𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 || 𝐉.𝐉𝐊

𝟏𝟐• 𝟔𝟔𝟔𝟕

Sirens blared everywhere.

As Jungkook held Jimin's bloody body in his lap, all he could feel was blood on himself. All he could hear was the sound of a crash. The sirens kept playing in the background.

“Sir, please move,” an unfamiliar voice said to him, taking Jimin away. He wanted to fight, and wanted to save Jimin. But he was too late. Like before. Like always. Too late.

He took in the nurses’ uniforms, the ambulance and police cars. He had called them. But what was the use? Jimin was unconscious, bleeding so much that it reminded him of his parents. It was all his fault.

Only his fault.

Why was he so stubborn? He should have listened to Jimin. At least that way, he would be safe, laughing with his parents. But he had to run out. An unplanned, unchecked and thoughtless attempt at finding the truth. At that moment, he didn't care. What did the truth even mean? More sacrifices? More loved ones getting hurt?
Revenge rang in his head. There was one person behind this. One person who hated Jungkook so much that they could snatch everyone away from him. He'd be all alone. Fighting for nothing but empty revenge. But what did revenge mean if he had no home?

His knuckles turned white as he stared at Jimin's bike. That was his favourite vehicle lying on the road; broken just like its owner. The truck that ran over Jimin vanished as fast as it appeared. It was like the flash of a second. Jimin had surpassed Jungkook's car and was shouting at him to stop. Amidst that madness, a truck came out of nowhere and crashed Jimin into a building’s glass door. Before anyone could follow through, the truck sped away. He wanted to follow it, but checking on Jimin was more important. And just like always, the people watched.

Jungkook didn't know what made him angrier : the fact that the culprit ran away; or that the public did nothing to help. He remembered the number of the truck. It was something he'd never forget. 6667.

Whenever he got hands on that driver, he'd make sure that his death would be so brutal he'd have to beg for it. That man will shed twice the amount of blood Jimin did. It was a promise. And Jeon Jungkook never broke his promises.

Six hours had passed. It was five in the evening by then. Waiting for Jimin to wake up was more difficult than he had assumed. Each passing second made him more anxious; worried about his best friend. Park Jimin was probably one of the last few people he could call close. Even when the doctors told him that Jimin would be fine, he didn't believe it.
Not because he didn't trust them, but because he knew that the serial killer was after him now. Anything he did had to be quick, he couldn't handle any more sacrifices. Not a single one.

“Mr. Jeon, Mr. Park is awake.” No sooner did the words leave the nurse's lips, did Jungkook dash into the room.

“Jimin hyung!” He knelt down beside the blonde man's bed, gently holding one of his hands.