I Told You, I'm A Monster

Chapter One

"That was fun. Wanna play a game?" A deep, gruff voice. A wild-eyed gaze.

"N-no, I don't!" A slightly higher pitched voice. Fear and panic in his eyes.

"I showed you what to do. You watched me do it. I want you to do the same thing now."

"No, I don't want to!"

"If you don't do it, I'll do the same thing to you, kid. Fucking do it."

Hands are placed on his back. Those same hands rip his underwear away from his small body.

"Do it now before I change my mind."

With tears and snot covering his small, chubby face and an erratic heartbeat, he submits to the criminal's wishes.

Namjoon is brought out of his thoughts by the door opening. 'Damn, can't a man get a little privacy?' he wonders as he turns from where he was facing the corner to see which of his usual doctors came to visit him today. But he doesn't recognize the man standing hesitantly in the doorway. He looks new. Young. Scared. He smirks as he fully faces the doctor. "Hello there."

"Hi, Mr. Kim. I'm Dr. Kim Seokjin, and I will be taking care of you today."

"How can you take care of me when it looks like you can't take care of yourself?" Namjoon steps closer to the doctor, who is clearly trying not to bolt from the room. "You're sweating profusely. You're pale. You look like you're about to faint." He grips his hand, making him jump. "Your hands are ice cold. Doctor, are you sick? You don't look well." He places his other hand on the doctor's forehead and looks him in the eyes, seeing panic and apprehension. He has him exactly where he wants him now. Or so he thinks.

"No, Mr. Kim, I'm not sick." Dr. Kim steps easily away from his patient, much to his own surprise, and flips open his chart. "I appreciate your concern, though." He takes a deep breath before speaking again. "It says here that you have a strict routine, and now is when we're supposed to talk for an hour." He perches on the edge of the worn, rusted metal chair that's sitting by the equally rusted metal desk. "So, Mr. Kim, what would you like to talk about?"

"First of all, call me Namjoon." Namjoon rolls his eyes as he lies on the bed and laces his fingers behind his head. "Second, none of the other doctors actually talk to me, so you don't have to, either." He closes his eyes and doesn't say anything more after that.

"But, Namjoon, I want to." One of the other man's eyes opens as he turns his head towards Seokjin. "I read your chart. I know what happened. We don't have to talk about that, though. We can talk about anything. Movies, music, I don't know, the weather. Anything. It has to be lonely being cooped up in here all the time without anyone to talk to."

Namjoon ponders for a few moments as he looks Seokjin directly in the eye. He seems genuine, sweet, and dedicated. But, sadly, Namjoon knows that'll change. Eventually, places like this turn the best people into shells of the people they once were, left to blow through life like plastic bags on the wind. Namjoon was one step ahead of them, though. He doesn't even know who he used to be before that fateful day. He's brought out of his thoughts again by Seokjin clearing his throat.

"Well, my favorite color is black. And I really like studying." Simple things. Namjoon can talk about simple things.

"Black is a good color. Strong, solid, reliable. What do you like to study?"

"Whatever I can get my hands on." Namjoon shrugs. "Language and history mostly."

"Those are good things to study." Seokjin can tell Namjoon doesn't want to be pushed about it, and he did read his chart about how he was supposed to go to one of the top three best colleges in South Korea before things went terribly downhill for him. "What kinds of movies do you like?"

Namjoon is surprised. Every other doctor he's had has prodded him to death about studying and how he should apply himself more and yadda yadda yadda. He actually has to think about the question for a moment before answering. "Whatever they show here a few times a week."

"Ah. Anything in particular?" Namjoon shrugs, effectively signaling that that topic of conversation is over. "Well, I like all kinds of movies. My favorite are action movies, and I hate horror movies."

Suddenly, Namjoon is interested in the conversation again. "Why do you hate horror movies?"

"Oh, the blood and gore are too much for me. Some of them also have implied rape, which I can't handle because it's such an unspeakably horrible thing to do to a person." As soon as the words have left Seokjin's mouth, he wishes with everything in them that he hadn't spoken them.

Namjoon feels something inside him break. He calmly rises from the bed and moves to stand directly in front of Seokjin, looming over him and making him feel small. He doesn't speak, and Seokjin is too frightened to move or look away. Namjoon's large hands grip Seokjin's throat and yank him to his feet, making him choke.

"Is it now? Is it so unspeakably horrible, doctor? Shall I show you how unspeakably horrible it is?" He spits the words out as if they were acid, and before either of them can make another move, the door flies open and two men wearing sharp blue scrubs come barreling into the room. They wrestle Namjoon away from Seokjin, and one jabs a needle into his hip, instantly making him lose consciousness, and they lay him on the bed and cuff one of his ankles to the bed post before escorting a shaking, coughing Seokjin from the room and sitting him down in a chair in the hallway.

"Dr. Kim, are you okay?!" Dr. Lee comes running, and he kneels in front of Seokjin with concern.

"He-- I--" Seokjin shakes his head as he rubs his throat, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Okay, why don't you go home. Rest a bit. Come back tomorrow, hm?"

Seokjin can only nod. He rises from his seat, collects his things, and leaves to go home, wondering again just what the hell he had gotten himself into.