“We were friends… and brothers.”
Come to our place around 6.00 pm. If u don’t, i will kill you
i will go there first ;)
and kICK UR ASS STUPID
WHERE’S MY CHOCOLATES U STOLE THEM, RIGHT?
True to his word, Taehyung arrived first at Namjoon’s flat. He tackled Namjoon through the door and onto the couch, all the while yelling about his missing chocolates. Their playfight went on until it was interrupted by Jeongguk’s ass smacking. Taehyung gave him a rear end kick in return.
It wasn’t long before Yoongi and Hoseok joined them and Seokjin brought the snacks. The chocolates were promptly forgotten.
“Where’s Jimin?” Seokjin asked, tossing packets of chips onto the coffee table.
Hoseok immediately popped the packet labelled ‘barbeque’. “Boxing practice,” he answered around a mouthful of chips. “He’ll be here soon.”
“Tell him to hurry up.”
Hoseok nodded at the male sitting opposite him. “Taehyung, you text him.”
Taehyung sighed but pulled out his phone. He licked his greasy fingers clean and typed in the passcode. Several message notifications lit up the screen. For a second, he thought it was Jimin, but the number appeared as unknown.
I want to kill you all
You are with your friends right now, right?
I can see you
I hate you all
He raised an eyebrow. “The fuck?”
Namjoon peered over his shoulder and raised both his eyebrows so high that they disappeared into his beanie. Their reactions even had Yoongi curious. “What is it?”
Jeongguk bounced over behind the couch to see the phone screen. He chewed on his lip as he read but laughed it off. “Just some idiot trying to be cool,” he informed the other curious spectators.
“We acted like nothing happened…
We thought it was a stupid joke…”
But then… 2 days later, Seokjin found a note in his locker. It was crumpled and smudged, hastily stuffed in, but the words were readable, despite, and they sent a chill down Seokjin’s spine.
Whatever prank this was, it was going a little too far.
“Is that… blood?!” Hoseok half shrieked.
Seokjin could only grimace as the rest of their gang crowded around him in a circle, all eyes fixed on the note paper in Seokjin’s hands. It was Yoongi who snatched the paper and disposed of it in the bin.
But the words scribbled in black ink and red blood were permanently implemented in their heads.
You will die
“And everything started.”
Car engines. Rustling. Nimble footsteps. Twigs cracking, splitting, sharp and high. Crunch of dried leaves. Heavy steps under his window.
Too close. Too close.
Jeongguk’s eyes flew open. Silence. Only his soft breaths bounced off the walls of his room.
So what had woken him up, at quite literally, the middle of the night?
Then he heard it.
Jeongguk’s backyard was full of greenery. While the rows of hedges and towering oak were pretty to look at, they spilled confetti of leaves over the grass and Jeongguk just wasn’t bothered enough to rake it up. Maybe because he always found the sound they made under his shoes pretty. It was loud, crisp and clear, hard to muffle and calming.
Right now, it was anything but calming.
Jeongguk stuttered a breath. Slowly, he sat up, eyes planted on the window.
He heard the sound again. A shadow moved just above the sill. His heartbeats almost rivalled the leaf crackling.
With shaky fingers, he unlocked his phone and pulled up Namjoon’s name in his contacts. A hurriedly written, typo-ridden text was sent.
Hyugn i think tneres soenone in ny gardn
A sharp click.
He whipped his head back towards the window. The faded silhouette of a man’s head was now recognisable against the white of the window.
Was his heart supposed to belong in his throat?
Even more recognisable was the shadow of an automatic handgun. Small and easy to carry.
Suddenly, he forgot how to make his lungs function.
His hands moved to send Namjoon another panicked text.
The barrel was pointed straight at him.
He didn’t even have time to scream.
It was times like this that Namjoon wished he’s gotten his driver’s licence. Aside from Jeongguk, who was too young, he was the only one without ownership of a car. Seokjin would argue that Namjoon would be destruction on the streets and adamantly refused to let him even think of driving lessons.
So now, dressed in his pyjamas with nothing but a jacket and a beanie to keep him warm and fear as fuel, he ran to Jeongguk. The rather loud ‘ding’ of his phone had woke him up (and thank God, he did). The boy’s panicked text sent a sick feeling swirling in his stomach and his thoughts only took him back to the signs they should’ve payed attention to; the text messages, the note in the locker.
Jeon Jeongguk did not panic. Jeon Jeongguk did not send text messages at 12 am without reason. It could only mean Something Bad was happening.
Namjoon shook his head clear and kept running. The streets were silent, Seoul was sleeping. But down the road, a car engine roared. So he wasn’t the only one awake.
A sleek black BMV screeched around the corner and for a moment, he was blinded by the headlights. Another crazy driver. One of the ones who spend their nights wasting gas on pulling stunts. Namjoon knew them well from his night shifts at the gas-station.
When he blinked, the car had travelled half the distance towards him. The lights weren’t in his eyes anymore; he could clearly see the driver at the wheel – this wasn’t some reckless 20-something-year-old lunatic. This guy knew exactly what he was doing.
Namjoon paused and then it was right in-front of him. He could smell burning rubber. He could hear breaking glass. He could feel-
He felt nothing.
Everything went black.
3 hours 15 minutes
You should kill yourself Hoseok
all of your friends are going to die
*Unknown has sent an image*
*Unknown has sent an image*
*Unknown has sent an image*
Hoseok pressed the switch till his phone went black. He was shaking, he noticed. The phone dipped and fell onto the rug. He wasn’t bothered to pick it up.
His feet found themselves to the bathroom. He collapsed by the toilet bowl. It was meant to be a joke. It was supposed to be a stupid prank. Whatever he was expecting when he pressed the link, was not that.
(Was not Namjoon’s mangled body under car tires).
(Was not Jeongguk’s bloodied face and chest).
(Was not the corpses of his two best friends).
Flushing the toilet, he stood up shakily and held himself up with the help of the basin. As if he were a puppet being controlled by his master, his hands moved towards the cabinet out of his will. A handful of pills poured onto his palm.
He swallowed them all.
4 hours 57 minutes
It was quick and done in about five minutes. Seokjin was at-least glad he didn’t have to suffer.
It had been a simple knock at his window. He knew Seokjin would be awake. He had planned everything well.
Seokjin tried to be careful. He tried to be cautious. He thought twice before he pulled back the curtains. People don’t normally knock on windows at 5am but what could possibly happen?
He was met with a smiling face. Not the usual smile, something more sinister. He held a gun out, pointing at Seokjin’s chest. Right above his heart.
Funny thing was, Seokjin wasn’t scared. He had been too distracted by his smile. He didn’t even realise he was bleeding out till the sounds of his laughter melted in his ears. Like he was being drowned.
Drowned in his own blood.
7 hours 28 minutes
Hoseok was numb. The sun was bright. It blinded his eyes. It turned the world into a kaleidoscope. He was walking down the bridge but he couldn’t feel his legs. Hoseok was numb. The world was too bright. The wind was too loud. His ears were burning. The sun was too bright. His cheek hit the tarmac. He couldn’t feel it. He was too numb.
He couldn’t feel anything.
17 hours 8 minutes
jeon keeps ignoring my texts
tell him to reply to me
ur ignoring me too :(((
doES NOBODY CARE ABOUT ME
AM I JUST A POTATO IN UR LIVES???????
When his phone lit up with the sound of a notification, Taehyung practically pounced on it. Grinning, he pulled up the message bar expecting to see a text from Hoseok or Jeongguk. It wasn’t either. Nor was it any of the other gang as far as he could tell. The grin fell off his face.
I have Hoseok
If you ever want to see him again
Come to this address
Don’t call the police
I’m watching you
*Unknown has sent an image*
Chewing his lip, Taehyung pressed the link. The photo took a few seconds to load and when it did, it sent his heart on a wild run.
The photograph had been taken through a window but it still showed a clear view of Taehyung’s back and the silver of his phone. A cold sweat began to form at his nape. It couldn’t have been taken more than a few minutes ago. He ran at the window on shaky legs and fiddled with the lock.
His un-cooperative fingers only helped make the job longer. By the time he got the window open, the Unknown Caller was gone.
17 hours 25 minutes
He hadn’t wanted to go. But it didn’t feel like he had much of a choice. The warehouse was pitch black. An array of objects littered the area, just waiting for some unlucky person to trip over them. Taehyung only knew his way through the countless times he’d been here with the others.
He stopped at what he was sure was the centre of the warehouse. A lonely bulb dangled above his head. The only sign there was another person in the room with him was the sound of soft breaths, irregular to his own. Taehyung prided himself on his sharp ears.
“I came. No police. Nobody, just me,” he called out at the other person. “Where’s Hoseok?”
The Unknown Caller laughed lowly. “You’re a little too late. He’s already gone.”
Taehyung cocked an eyebrow. “Gone? What do you mean ‘gone’?”
“Gone. Dead. Like Jeongguk. Like Namjoon. Like Seokjin.” He laughed again.
It was then that Taehyung came to realise that he’d made a huge mistake. He had never even asked for proof. With only an assumption that Hoseok had been kidnapped alive, he had decided to play Hero. Slowly, he took a few regretful steps back.
The Unknown Caller took a few forward. “Come now, don’t leave just yet. We still haven’t had any fun.” He was standing partly in the light now. In his hands, he twirled a kitchen knife. On his face, he plastered a smile.
Taehyung gulped. There was no possible way this could end well. A thousand thoughts raced through his head. A thousand regrets. ‘I’m not old enough to die!’ he wanted to scream, but his voice was lodged in his throat.
The Unknown Caller moved until he was fully under the dim glow of the lightbulb. Then he raised his head so Taehyung could see his face, slightly tilted with his eyebrows raised; as if he was expecting a reaction.
Taehyung’s breath stuttered. He gasped. “So… it was you…”
The other man’s lips pulled back into a wide grin. “It’s me~” he said playfully.
Then he took two long strides and plunged the knife into Taehyung’s abdomen. “It’s me,” he repeated, more softly this time. “Are you surprised?” He twisted the knife in its hold. The other boy moaned and coughed. Little drops of red splattered the floor.
“You won’t live long.”
Taehyung collapsed onto his side, hands clutching the wound on his stomach. The other male’s face blurred and spotted with black. He wasn’t sure if it was tears clouding his vision or the rapid blood loss. He didn’t want to die. He was too young. He hadn’t done enough. Subconsciously, he felt the tip of the knife cut through his back. Quite literally, he’d been backstabbed.
The last thing he heard before he slipped was the Killer’s soft voice.
22 hours 1 minute
Yoongi stared at the boy through the peep-hole for a good fifteen seconds before unlatching the lock. “What are you doing here?” He asked incredulously.
Receiving no reply, his eyes zeroed in on the object the boy held loosely by his thigh. “Is that a knife?! Why the bloody fuck do you have a knife?”
Yoongi faltered at the boy’s voice. He opened and closed his mouth stupidly until he found a reply. “Who’s dead?”
The boy smirked a little as he trailed a finger down the spine of the knife. “One, two, three, four, five…” he looked at Yoongi through hooded eyes and smiled – a predator’s smile. “You’re number six.”
His first instinct was to shut the door, but he reacted a little too late. He’d been too stunned.
The other boy wedged a foot between the door and the wall and though Yoongi did his best, he managed to force his way in.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Yoongi was trying to stay calm but this sudden, unexpected situation was making his heart beat a little too fast for his liking. What was happening?
The Intruder took his moment of vulnerability to land a punch on his jaw that sent him flying. His hip collided painfully with the staircase and before he could get back up, the boy was on him again. One particular blow sent a stinging pain over his mouth. Gingerly, Yoongi raised a finger to his bloody lip.
The boy was kneeling over him now, knife still in his hand. “You know what I did to Taehyung?” he whispered. Yoongi shook his head. No, he didn’t want to know. But the boy continued on, nevertheless. “I stabbed him. Like this.”
The blooming pain was enough to make even Min Yoongi grimace. A weight lifted off his legs as the Intruder stood up.
“Namjoon? I ran him over with a car.”
He didn’t have the knife in his hand anymore but a chair. A wooden chair. A rickety, wooden chair. A chair that splintered when he brought it down and successfully emitted a strangled yelp from Yoongi.
The boy went on, completely ignoring his cries. “I tormented Hoseok till he killed himself…” He fisted Yoongi’s collar in his hands and heaved him off the stairs, only to toss him at the wall. His back ricocheted off and he slid, or rather collapsed into a bloody heap at the foot of it.
“And Seokjin and Jeongguk…” The Intruder moved to stand over him and Yoongi struggled to lift his head high enough to meet his eyes. He only caught a glimpse of a gun before his head fell back against his chest. He hurt all over and it hurt bad. So he gladly accepted the relief that came with the two bullets in his chest.
“Why did you do it, Jimin?”
“Why did you kill your friends?”
“I didn’t like them. That’s all.”