Shadows of curiosity | psycho murderer x reader

Part 1

The keys rattled as you unlocked the door to your apartment. The click of the lock echoed in the small, dimly lit hallway, where the only welcoming sound was the low hum of your fridge. You tossed your bag on the floor and kicked your shoes off without much thought, collapsing onto the old couch that sagged beneath you. Your body felt like lead, and the buzzing thoughts of the day circled in your head like a relentless swarm of bees. Work had drained you, as usual—same deadlines, same faces, and no one who noticed you were barely holding it together.

Your only solace was watching TV in the dark. Not because it cheered you up—nothing really did anymore—but because it numbed your thoughts for a little while. A barrier between you and the endless void inside. You reached for the remote, flicked on the TV, and the screen blinked to life. A DIRECTV interface popped up. Your fingers hovered over the Netflix button, but then you heard something from the news that made you freeze.

"Today at 3:40 AM, inmate Park Jun escaped from Seoul City Prison."

The reporter’s voice was calm, professional, but you heard the tension underlying it. The camera switched to a grainy mugshot of a man. Park Jun had sharp, sunken eyes that felt like they were staring straight into your soul. His thin lips were set in a cold line, as though smiling was a concept alien to him. There was something unnerving about his expression—a kind of quiet, deliberate rage.

The reporter continued, “Jun is highly dangerous, convicted for multiple counts of homicide. He is known for his unpredictable behavior and is suspected to be armed. Authorities warn residents to stay indoors and report any suspicious activity immediately. If you have information on his whereabouts, please contact the police.”

You felt a strange calm wash over you as the words sank in. A murderer on the loose. The reporter warned that he might be lurking in the area, and for a moment, you wondered what the neighbors were thinking. Maybe they’d lock their doors, double-check their windows, and peek through their curtains in fear. But you? You simply stared at the screen, unmoved.

The thought of someone dangerous, even deadly, being nearby didn’t ignite the same fear in you that it might in others. The idea of death wasn’t intimidating—it was oddly... comforting. A part of you had long stopped caring what might happen to you. You lived alone, spoke to almost no one, and went through life like a ghost, drifting without purpose. If anything, the thought of Park Jun appearing at your door was more intriguing than terrifying.

You knew how the media loved to exaggerate stories to create panic. Maybe Park wasn’t as ruthless as they claimed. Maybe the world had driven him to that breaking point—just like it had pushed you into your own darkness. In another life, you thought, maybe the two of you wouldn’t be so different.

The screen cut to a map, showing the last known location of the fugitive. You noticed the prison wasn’t far from where you lived. Just two or three neighborhoods over. Close enough to make you feel like the story was no longer something happening to someone else but right outside your door.

The idea lingered in your mind longer than it should have. What if Park Jun really was nearby?

You stood up, your legs aching from hours of sitting at work, and shuffled to the kitchen. The fridge was almost empty—just a few leftovers and some beer bottles. You grabbed one and popped it open, the bitter taste washing down your dry throat.

The thought gnawed at you. Why did the news make you feel so... interested? You weren’t supposed to feel anything—yet here you were, replaying the reporter’s words in your head. You leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the darkened window across from you. The night outside was thick and quiet, like the city was holding its breath.

You knew better than to go outside. Yet, for the first time in a long while, you were tempted to. There was a thrill in the air that you couldn’t explain—a strange, morbid curiosity about how this night might end. What if Park Jun showed up? Would you scream? Would you fight back? Or would you open the door and let fate take its course, with nothing left to lose?

You finished your beer and walked back to the couch, dragging a blanket over your legs. The news anchor was still talking, but you didn’t care anymore. The only sound that mattered now was the faint ticking of the clock. Midnight was approaching, and for some reason, the night felt heavier than usual.

Suddenly, there was a noise.

You froze.

It was faint—just the slightest scrape against the window. Your heart skipped a beat, but not from fear. Instead, a strange sense of anticipation filled you. Slowly, you turned your head toward the window.

There it was again—a gentle, deliberate sound, like something being dragged against the glass. The streetlight outside barely illuminated the window, casting long shadows across your apartment. You strained your eyes to see through the darkness, but all you could make out was a faint silhouette—something, or someone, standing just out of view.

The logical part of your brain told you it could be the wind, or maybe a stray animal. But deep down, you knew better. It wasn’t the wind.

You should have been scared. Your mind screamed at you to grab your phone, call the police, do something—anything. But instead, you sat perfectly still, your breath shallow, your eyes locked on the window.

What would you do if it really was him?

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

For the first time in months, maybe years, you felt something other than emptiness. You weren’t afraid of the night, or the possibility of what waited outside. You were curious.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly, each second feeling heavier than the last.

And then, the scraping stopped.

The room was silent again.

But you knew—deep in your bones—you weren’t alone anymore.