psychopath | park jimin ff

dos

it had been a week since i last seen kim haneul.

a week since her words echoed in my head.

"what if i told you that was bullshit. that i know for a fact you didn't kill your mother and i can figure out who did."

how could she do that?

her job was to evaluate psychopaths, not solve cases.

her job was to tell me i was crazy and to tell me that it'll get better.

not to fill me up with hope and sexual frustration.

and now here i am again, walking the same path i have been walking on for two years. walking to the room that held the most beautiful woman i had ever laid eyes on.

the door was pushed open for me, as per usual, and there she sat. her long legs were crossed as she sat in a blue plastic chair. glasses adorned her slim face and a bun was atop her head with a few frazzled pieces accentuating her face even more.

beautiful.

"ah, park jimin. lovely to see you again. you may leave, officer." haneul dismissed. the officer did as told and exited.

"so, are you ready to begin?" haneul smiled, pulling out a black pen and notepad.

"before we do, can i ask you something?" i spoke, my voice hoarse from the lack of usage.

"sure, of course," haneul smiled.

"how could you solve my case? how can you prove my innocence?" i asked. i thought and rethought ways to approach the topic, but i couldn't think of any other way than flat out asking.

"wouldn't you rather know how i figured out you were innocent instead?" she smirked.

"s-sure" i stuttered.

"you see, it all started when i got a call from hal. he wasn't feeling well and wanted to retire so he called me. he briefly mentioned my other patients, but you. you, he went on for for hours. he talked about how you sat in the godforsaken chair and answered monotonously. how you answered like you should. how you didn't even bother to plead otherwise. you just accepted that your mother died and it was all your fault." she spoke.

"so?"

"so, psychopaths usually speak of how they murdered their victims. as if they deserve to be rewarded for what they had done. you, you are just facing the music. you know that in order to get through it all, you just have to do what is asked," she shrugged.

"many people do that, though," i shrugged, listening intently.

"true, but it's different for you. while true murders don't mind seeing the images of their work, i can guarantee you will act differently," haneul said, picking up a file with my name on it. she pulled out photographs, holding them up.

my heart fell into my stomach, vomit threatening to crawl up my throat and onto the chipped tile floor.

images of my mom with her face completely mutilated and misshaped filled my view.

memories of me walking in, drunk off my ass, only to see my mother dying on the kitchen floor tugged at my heart. tears pooled in my eyes.

"ya.." i spoke, defeated.

"are you truly capable of doing this park jimin?" she taunted.

my heart beat was speeding up.

"ya!" i spoke a little louder, my heart racing faster now.

"are you truly capable of hurting the ones you love, huh?! are you?!" she scolded.

"stop it! please! just... just stop," i shook, the tears falling. my body shook with rage as i collapsed to my knees.

"park jimin. you're not the perpetrator. you're the victim."