Pumped Up Kicks

Prologue

It was Yoongi's third time, a young woman with dark hair. He didn't know her, nor did he care about her. She didn't make it hard anyways. It was easy to break into her apartment. Too simple to take the knife out of the rack. It wasn't like she knew he was there anyway. She never noticed him as he came up behind her and drove the knife into her neck. She fell like a leaf in the wind, making it easier for him to finish the job he had set out to do. Maybe stabbing her seven times was too much, but you could never be too sure in this job. He slowly got off the body. Blood kept pouring from the wounds he had just inflicted with the steak knife. He groaned as he looked at his clothes. The crimson blood splattered across his jeans, his hands were dripping in the liquid. He leaned over to remove the knife that was still lodged in her chest. More blood splattered across his hands.

The jingle of the door handle caught his attention. It rattled and shook vigorously, trying to open. "Ji-Uen? I forgot my keys." The voice called out, a male's voice. The male knocked on the door as if he would have grabbed her attention anyways. Yoongi walked towards the door, being as quiet as possible. He hadn't thought her boyfriend was going to return so soon. But here this male was, banging on the door. Yoongi gripped the knife tight in his hand as he reached for the door handle. He felt the sweat seep out of his forehead as he began to twist the doorknob. He slowly opened the door, following it to stay out of sight. Her boyfriend walked in without a care. His shoes tapped against the flooring as he made his way to the bedroom. Yoongi quickly closed the door, following after the man.

His eyes were dull and lifeless. He felt a smile creep onto his features as his head twitched to the side involuntarily. His grip tightened on the knife when he heard the blood-curdling scream. He leaned into the doorway with a sigh, "Hey."

The male had quickly spun around at his voice. "What have you done?" He shouted as he quickly distanced himself. His body was shaking uncontrollably. Yoongi pushed himself from the doorway and sauntered over to him.

"It was easy," he chuckled as she glanced at the knife. "Too easy. I wanted a challenge. I'm not like the Golden Rabbit. I don't wear a mask. So I can't let you go, hyung."

He lunged himself on top of the male, plunging the blade into his chest cavity. The blood splattering against Yoongi's black jacket. The male started to cry out before Yoongi quickly silenced him, cutting his throat open. The blood sprayed Yoongi's face, bleeding into his soft blonde hair. The male fell to the ground, mere feet away from the female. Yoongi stepped away from the bodies, walking into the bathroom to inspect himself.

His face was covered in blood, it slowly dripped down his checks. Stuck onto his hair and eyebrows. His neck was covered in the liquid, it felt as if every inch of his skin was smeared like a canvas. His jeans were drenched, but the blood was hardly noticeable on his hoodie. He dipped his head under the faucet, to clean the blood off of his hair and face. His hands were rinsed in the process. He dried himself off with the small towel that rested on the counter. He wiped the blood off of his neck. The clock on his phone read as eleven at night, safe to say it was dark enough outside that his blood-stained pants would look black.

His phone began to buzz, the profile picture of his friend appeared across the screen. Yoongi swiped the green answer button.

"Hello?"

"Yoongi? Hey, man are you home right now?" The voice of his friend rang into his ear. He didn't feel like lying.

"No. Why?"

"You have to be careful. All the serial killings have skyrocketed lately. And they've been in your area." Yoongi felt his mouth go dry. He heard the clear fear in his friend's voice. Somehow, that made him feel guilty as he walked past the two bodies laying on the ground.

"Jimin, I'm fine." He responded quickly, realizing he had paused for too long. Jimin sighed on the other side of the phone.

"Just head home quick dude. I've heard the bunny guy isn't the only killer in here in Seoul anymore. It's scary man." Yoongi exited the apartment while listening to his friend ramble on about the infamous serial killer that lived nearby. Everybody knew of him, a tall man who stalked in the shadows looking at humans like prey. Nobody has ever seen his face, perhaps it was the fact he wore a mask. A stark white mask with two large, black eyes.  A button nose and a buck tooth smile. It was common knowledge that he drew his mask on the walls with his victims' blood. He let everybody know it was him.

With the course the killer was going, everybody in Seoul would soon be dead. The news covered every murder the male committed. Every victim he killed would flash across the TV screen. Yoongi never pitied the victims though, he couldn't bring himself to. Not when he had started to do the same thing. In all honesty, Yoongi respected the killer. The fact he went out every day to find somebody to kill. That he was always the topic of discussion. Yoongi listened to Jimin continuously blabber about the killer across the phone.

Yet somehow, Yoongi found it disgusting. Disgusting how the male was always the topic of discussion. How he was always in the news headlines. How come Yoongi never got a chance to even be mentioned? He was the quiet homicidal maniac that would stalk his victims on social media. Find the patterns they followed daily, then use that to his advantage. Whereas this bunny killer runs out to kill whoever is nearby. Never properly checking to see if they could be holding a weapon or if they're capable of catching him.

Jimin had long since hung up on him. Leaving him in the silence in the dead of night. The moon illuminated the asphalt underneath his feet with the help of the street lamps. The blood had dried to appear as a brown looking color. He looked at the brick building in front of him, his apartment complex. He glanced around himself, seeing if anybody was nearby. You could never be too sure. He entered the building, pulling his keys out of his pockets. He walked the flight of stairs, he, unfortunately, lived on the 14th floor of a 20 story building. When he unlocked the door, he went straight to his room, looking for his pajamas. He changed his clothes, quickly shoving his bloodstained outfit into the washing machine. He made sure all entrances to his apartment were locked and secured.

He fell onto his couch and turned on the TV.  The news channel was on again. Talking about another recent murder of four high school girls. All of them killed during a party. A photo was displayed on the screen. A blurry photo of the masked killer. That was the most anyone has gotten of the killer. He seemed tall and fit. Parted black hair that fell over the white mask. Black sweater and jeans.

Holding a knife covered in blood.