Mine (Jenlisa)

one.

Lisa's POV~

The best part of choosing a victim... Well, for me, it is the little things. Seeing what they do for fun, that is always eye-opening. This one, my next, he was a strange old man. He normally went from his job as a university attorney to his home, where he would beat his wife, and his son; then go to sleep.

He has only one minor deviation in his schedule. Every week or so, on a Saturday, he would stop off at the Hongdae University library to drop off and pick a book. A legal thriller. They were always legal thrillers.

Legal thrillers and crime fiction... bah. The authors writing that stuff do not know what it is like, or they would write it different. They do not know the pleasure of driving a knife into someone's hand as they cry for mercy, the pleasure of seeing the blood bubble on their lips when their throat is cut.

The pleasure of all the screams: the screaming drowns out the thing that drives me mad. It drives away the shadow.

Yes, I'm sanest when I kill.

Usually, the men I kill are the ones who make sure their misdeeds go unseen. When they beat their wives, they hit them in the stomach. They would never leave a mark, or society would know.

I don't mind leaving marks. Nobody will see their bodies, anyway. They are fucking cowards, all of them, cowards, and bullies that would disappear without a trace.

I strut the library staircase to the second floor, where the genre fiction is kept, thinking about how I will do it even as I watch him climb the stairs above me. His legs move like puppet legs, wooden, and mechanical up the steps. Inhuman.

I will follow him to his car, I think. Then the syringe, the catch.

Then the kill.

Jennie's POV~

It was a beautiful spring day in Hongdae. The arboretum glowed with dappled sunlight and college students wandered lazily through the green paths, enjoying the weekend off from class. In the native sagebrush, blue butterflies danced in the air, above us, oak leaves glittered silver in the breeze.

I couldn't have cared less.

"Will you hurry up, Jisoo, please?"

"Ppong! You have got to be the most boring person I know. Stop and smell the roses! And by that, I mean there is a super cute guy over there painting in the rose garden." Jisoo tilted her head to one side, her black hair falling over her face. "An artistic guy. I like that."

"We don't have time for guys. We are already late!"

I was shuffling quickly through the arboretum, dragging my co-worker behind me through the gardens. All around us, college students strolled lazily around in pairs or groups. A dozen sorority girls had put out a blanket so they could work on their tans on the grassy lawn, and every guy who walked past slowed to half-time to gaze at the rainbow of bikini bottoms covering skinny tan asses. I shoved my way past the ogling meatheads.

"We are only, like, ten minutes late," Jisoo said, sighing as I yanked her out of the sunny arboretum and through the library doors. We hustled past the front counter to the back, where I grabbed a cart quickly, and pretended that I had already started shelving.

"You are so lucky Nayeon is late. I can't handle her temper," Our boss was, as Jisoo put it, more sadistic than Disney's Ursula and less forgiving than Inspector Javert.

"Lucky, nothing. I knew she would be late. You want to skip back to the arboretum and check out that artsy guy?" Jisoo gave an exaggerated wink.

"No."