A/N Almost done. Thank you all for sticking with me. I fell like I have grown as a writer here and hope to make fewer mistakes in the future. Enjoy
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That night, when he snuck out of the dorm Ravi's rage was a red-hot, burning his chest.
They called the shots. They had power over him.
What made it even worse?
Ravi had given it to them.
Not since he had left home had he felt so helpless, so pathetic.
Steeling though darkened alleys, he howled into the silent night. A quest of icy winter wind threw the sound back in his face choking him. He jammed his balled-up fist deeper into the pockets of his jacket against the cold.
Under his jacket, in the front pouch of his hoodie, Ravi felt the package N had given him when he left. Standing up a dim streetlight, he pulled out the package. It was still warm from resting up against his body. Sliding off one of his gloves, he carefully unwrapped it. Inside the package was a twelve-inch stiletto.
The knife blade was long and narrow. Less than half an inch wide at the base. It tapered up to a needle-sharp point at the tip. The handle was short, fitting comfortably in Ravi's grasp. Strips of black leather wrapped the metal of the handle, giving his fingers a non-slip grip. The hand guard was lightly curve, protectively hugging his fingers. Even in the faint light of the alley the blade glowed.
"They have taken your power," the blade whispered to him. "But you know what to do to take it back."
Ravi started moving forward again. He held the knife in a tight fist, arm hanging by his side. Adrenalin rushed through his system firing up his heartbeat. The red haze that had clouded his vision refocused. His eyes became sharp and clear.
Ahead of him he could make out a figure approaching him from the other end of the alley. Ravi glanced around. Not seeing any CCTV's in the area, Ravi picked up his pace, heading for the lone figure in front of him.
As they drew closer together, Ravi could just make out it was a man. His clothing consisted of layers of miss matched pieces thrown on for warmth not style. From the way the man staggered as he shuffled down the narrow alley, stumbling into the walls on either side, Ravi could tell he was drunk.
Ravi timed his movements. As the two passed each other Ravi's right hand viciously swung up towards the man's chest. The knife's sharp point slid through the man's many layers of clothing with little resistance. The skin resisted slightly but Ravi expected that and forced the blade into the man's chest. With an ease that only comes with practice, Ravi slid the blade under the rib cage and directly into the man's heart. A quite moan like a lover's sigh was the only sound that escaped the man's lips as he slumped over Ravi's arm, dead.
Ravi closed his eyes and took a deep cleansing breath of the cold night air. He could feel a thin stream of blood trickle across his hand to fall to the ground. With that blood, all of his rage and frustration flowing out of him. He was the master here. He was the one with the power.
Gently, he laid the man's body on the ground. He could afford to be gentle now, magnanimous. He retrieved his knife being careful not to get any more blood on himself. Re-wrapping the knife in the newspaper N had packaged it in, he slipped it back inside the pouch of his hoodie.
Heady exhilaration once more infused his steps as he turned his back on the body he casually discarded in the alley. Ravi headed toward the nearest main street. He found himself near a subway entrance and used the nearby deserted restroom to wash the blood from his hand. When he finished only a small stain remained on the right-hand cuff of his jacket.
Once again outside, he recognized where he was. It would be too risky to take a taxi or even the subway. Instead he pulled his knit hat low over his brow and ears and his collar up over his chin and began the long walk back to the dorm. Since his legs were no longer fueled by his rage, they were quivering with exhaustion by the time he eased himself back through the basement window.
The dorm was dark and silent when he let himself back in. Only a single light in the kitchen burned. Sitting on a warming plate on the high kitchen counter was a pot of tea. The fragrance wafting from the pot was Chamomile, his favorite. Pouring himself a cup, Ravi drank, letting the warmth of the tea seep into his cold numbed body.
Next to the teapot Ravi saw a pad of paper and a pen. Picking up the pen, Ravi began to write.
The words exploded onto the paper like a bomb.
A/N According to law enforcement, Rage killers are prominent among people known as serial killers. Some underlying trigger always sets them off. This is my interpretation of such a killer.
Each member of VIXX will have their own separate story so I hope you will keep reading to the end.
Next up will be our sweet maknae, Hyuk.
As always please vote if you enjoyed my humble attempt to entertain you, dear readers. Also feel free to leave comments, even if they are negative. Even negative comments will be welcome as it will help me improve my writing.
Also I claim no credit for the photos or videos I used to enhance my story. Where even possible I will leave credit to the owners.
Seeyou again soon
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Killer Concepts
Mystery / ThrillerWhat happens when a group of strangers are thrown together by a TV show and discover they share an unusual habit? That they are all serial killers. You get VIXX, a Kpop group with an very sharp edge. What drives a person to kill and in some c...