Taehyung is a crazy, obsessive fanboy who has fallen madly in love with handsome icon, Jeon Jungkook.
He will do anything to be noticed by his idol, and makes sure to be by his side whenever he can - even if his methods aren't exactly legal.
AU:
...
The orange haired male stared down at his shaking hands, eyes vacant and expression unreadable. He watched stoically, as they quivered and shook, unable to cease the movement no matter how much he wished too. It was as if he had lost control over the limbs, like they were no longer a part of him but of someone else unknown.
Finally finding the will to move again, he leaned back on his palms, using the leverage to unsteadily lift himself to his feet. Breathing heavy, and body trembling, he closed his eyes as he tried to flush the burning adrenaline out of his system.
This was how he always felt after one of his violent episodes. Body on fire, thoughts all scrambled and vision blurry. He would become trapped in his own body, a soulless puppet with a one track mind and an unbreakable will to kill. (ʜᴀ ɪ ʀʜʏᴍᴇᴅ -)
One may even compare him to a bomb of some sort. Unpredictable, dangerous and ready to go off at any time. In fact, it was very easy to ignite the burning rage within him. A simple graze of the hand, a smile that lasts just a bit too long - even a distant gaze from meters away.
Anything and everything could set him off.
The dazed yet uncaring teenager looked down, eyes gazing over the corpse in front of him. The body lay twisted and contorted, limbs strewn about at odd angles and head bent sharply to the side. The girl's mouth hung open, jaw locked in utter terror.
The thought that her last view on this Earth had been one of his own grinning face, filled him with a sort of dull joy that worked to bring him down from his erratic state.
Now once again in complete control of his body, he reached down towards his victim and worked to retrieve the knife that still remained inside her. He gave a tug, finally freeing the weapon that was tightly lodged in her ribcage.
Wiping his blood stained hands onto his clothes (though this didn't help much since they were quite bloody as well), he grabbed the body by its left foot, the black high-heel that had adorned it before lost somewhere in the scramble.
To his dismay, this girl had put up quite the fight, leaving him with a jagged scratch across his torso. Those heels could definitely do more damage than he had first thought and he decided to keep this is mind for future reference.
Dragging the corpse to the dumpster behind him, he stopped in front of it and let go of the leg he had been using as a handle.
Taking a small break, he took a step back and sighed. The girl was very light, but after fighting of her feeble attempts of survival his body was aching with newly forming bruises and scratches.
Looking down at the annoyance that had caused him this pain, he noticed a small bracelet hanging on her slender wrist.
Interest peaked, he reached down and yanked the jewelry off of her, not caring when the chain snapped into two pieces.
It was actually very beautiful, with small silver charms encrusted with diamonds and a small metal tag engraved with her name in fancy writing.
Deciding to take it as his prize of victory, he slipped the object into his pocket before returning his attention to his main job.
Now, with his last bits of adrenaline, he picked up the dead girl bridal style, holding her at an odd angle in an attempt to avoid getting more blood on himself.
He observed her face, taking in the prominent features for the last time. Shiny brown hair, a small round nose and plump red lips - all things he assumed a certain someone would have enjoyed, possibly even eventually come to love.
But sadly for her, that certain someone belonged solely to him.
Angered by the sight of her, he moved forward on his toes, tossing her body into the waiting bin uncaringly.
Now, he returned his attention to the rest of the scene, rolling his heavily stained sleeves up in anticipation of the clean up to come. This wasn't a new situation to him and through out the last two years he had gone through this process many times.
He moved to his sitting back pack, unzipping the biggest pocket and looking inside. After digging around for a bit he stopped, pulling out a large bottle of bleach and a handful of cloth rags from behind his camera case.
Now on his knees he began to scrub, pouring out a amount of the heavy duty cleaner onto the iron colored stains in the concrete. Though this was the most tedious part, the young male always made sure to be extra careful.
Because, if he got caught, who would be there to protect the one he loved?
After an hour of hard work and a quick but necessary change of clothes, he grabbed the now nearly empty jug of cleaner and emptied the remains onto the bloody knife in his burning hands.
Finding his cleaning job to be adequate enough, he tossed the jug into the dumpster behind him before tucking the now shiny knife back safely into the secret compartment of his book bag.
Content and lively, he gave a soft smile before tossing the backpack over his shoulder and heading for home.
During his quiet, (now 3am) walk he found his mind wandering back to the girl he had brutally murdered less than two hours ago. He hadn't known her at all. He had never seen her at any of the fan meets or concerts. It was if she had appeared out of thin air.
She had been a lively fan though, cheering happily from the front lines, and singing along proudly to each song. Even had a cute smile, one filled with so much earnest joy and hope.
One that he had also seen change into a horrified 'O' shape when he had taken his knife and-
He stopped now, reaching his doorstep and taking out his keys. Truthfully after tonight's events, he was exhausted and simply wanted a good nights sleep. He did in fact have a lot to do tomorrow.
He would have to leave very early to get to the apartment complex in time.
After a quick shower (and another bleach scrub down), he climbed into his bed, cuddling into the covers and hugging tightly onto the small stuffed bear that, during the day, rested on top of his Pokèmon themed bedspread. (ᴄᴜᴛᴇsᴛ ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀᴇʀ ᴘsʏᴄʜᴏᴘᴀᴛʜ ᴏғ ᴀʟʟ ᴛɪᴍᴇ 10/10)
He let out a soft sigh of ease, closing his eyes and allowing his body to relax. The day was finally over and after all his 'hard work' he was truly exhausted from head to toe.
For the last time, his thoughts drifted back to the day's victim. Her screams still played through his head like some kind of sick, twisted lullaby, that oddly enough seemed to mellow him even more.
It was truly too bad.
So sad, that her life had to have been cut so short when she had still had so much hope for the future.
He rolled over now, soft lips curling into a small and gentle looking smile.
Well, that was simply the price to pay for touching his property.
