𝙋𝙎𝙔𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙇𝙊𝙂𝙔 / Chanbaek.

Apricity's danger.

Looking deeply into the watcher's eyes, Chanyeol couldn't help but to be enthralled.

The swirling pools of toxic oil stared back at him, but it wasn't the colour that was intriguing him... no, it was his own reflection. His image was warped in the hydration, and yet, he was enticed by how his face was fully submerged inside of such a small organ.

He could see the silhouette of his nose, and how it's sharp lines carved into the surface. His appearance was sucked in, portrayed by the colour of rotten wood.

He could see himself in the stranger's eyes. Now, take that however you will...

The watcher hummed, catching Chanyeol's attention like a fish hook, snapping him out of the trance. "I'd appreciate it if you stopped staring. If you continue, I don't know what I'd do..." He said, turning his head away from view.

Fearful, Chanyeol darted his face back to his lap, nervously tapping his foot against his leg as if he was a terrified rabbit, trapped in the jaws of it's captor.

The killer ran his tongue over his teeth, irritated. He breathed out, allowing a smirk to amass onto his features.

"Now, Chanyeol. I won't be repeating anything, so don't interrupt and pay me your upmost attention." He ordered, slowly chucking at how the blonde had quickly raised his head.

"Imagine this..."

It was an annoyingly-hot, winters day. Lonesome, the raven speed walked into the looming, busy school.

The sheer speed of his footfall caused loose hairs to break free from their unbreakable fortress, that was focused on concealing his entire forehead and eyes from view. He had learnt, over the years, to rely on his other senses, and the shadows he could see through the curtain of strands, to make sure he didn't bump into anyone.

Determined, he managed to survive everyday, with his eyes hidden from view. It wasn't that he was insecure, not really, it was just an easy way to avoid eye contact. Back at home, in the orphanage, he was hated to the brink of bloodlust, even the minor action, such as making eye contact, could lead the boy to face some severe punishments. He knew it was wrong of them, and yet, for kids like him the orphanage was the only thing they had.

As the orphanage was all he had, after school, the boy would try his hardest to waste as much time as possible before going home. Naturally, this led the boy to be aware of all the different characters that resided inside of the school walls.

He wouldn't dare to get a detention, fearing the consequences, and it was hard, too, due to his vow to silence.

He had no friends, and that wasn't an understatement. If he decided, one day, that he wanted one, he was so socially inexperienced that he wouldn't know how to act. But it was alright, nothing could ever go wrong when it is just me, myself and I.

As he spent time after school, he would witness lots of the football games. He had never had any interest in doing the sport, but as he watched it so often, he grew a strong love for observing. You can see where this is leading, can't you?

Paying so much attention, he knew their every tactic, every member and every rule. And due to his silence, he couldn't help but to listen in on the opposing team's ideas, their pep talks and their schemes.

This is what lead to his first murder.

It was a rather somber day and black clouds hung in the sky like suicide victims. The boy had picked a trademark, red, plastic seat on the frontline, directly next to the barricade. This time, he sat nearby to the other school's team, choosing to stay his distance from the home students. If he was caught here by any staff, he would be sent home, questioned, or worse; banned.

From that seat, he could hear two men, laughing together. Listening in, the boy heard the fruits of their conversation.

"Dude, we'll never win with that quarterback. Would be a shame if something bad happened to them, right?" He smirked, gaining a boisterous punch to the arm from his teammate. The man gave an evil smile back, before leaning in to whisper their plan into his friend's ear. What ever it was enticed a chilling grin to spread on the latter. They were planning something horrid.

Anxious, the boy licked his bottom lip. Being so silent led him to see such horrible acts, and see such horrible people.

It was what led him to decide that the world would be so much better without people like them, without people like those at the orphanage, and without people like his bullies, who were ruthless and inhumane.

He kept an eye on the pair for the entirety of the game, yet they made no movement to harm the quarterback. That was until the final ten minutes...

The man was running towards the home team, ball in hand. The talented quarterback naturally ran forward to defend his side, but before he could reach them, the other man from before was tackling him from the side, and at an angle that was against the rules, the boy noted.

The running man also crashed into the quarterback, force now coming from both angles. The smack resulted in a loud crunch of bone, throwing the quarterback underneath their suffocating bodies, making the watching boy lurch from the sidelines, his stomach turning in disgust. A bone had definitely been broken.

It was the quarterback's arm.

The referee looked over, bored, previously fully turned away from the game. He saw, on the pitch, the quarterback's friends throwing the opposing men off of him, yelling. The referee stormed over, scolding the home team.

Enraged, the boy watched as his home team's protests were ignored, the opposing men were let off, and the quarterback was helped off of the pitch, his red '61' smudged with ashy mud.

"Wait!" Chanyeol yelled, "That was me!" He interrupted, his eyes flying wide. Did that mean?... he slapped a hand over his mouth in realisation.

Snow patted onto the window, piercing the quiet with its consistent thumps.

The watcher looked over to him, slowly, an unreadable expression groping at his features.

"A-are you saying that... the r-reason for all this murder was... me?" the blonde choked, shaking as he pulled at his hair, mouth dropping open.

The watcher deeply chuckled. Chanyeol gaped in disbelief as he watched him. How had this quiet, innocent boy turned into what he hated? Questions staked up inside his conscious, blurring his vision.

"Murder? It was all just a mere coincidence." He informed, the words stabbing Chanyeol in the heart.

"Why didn't you ever act on your desires for revenge?" The killer asked, cocking his head to the side, his, now white, hair rolling over his forehead handsomely.

Chanyeol chuffed, how much did this killer know about him?,his jaw quivering as he tried to speak. The words not wanting to surface.

"Because you did it for me..."