The room was quite empty, cold, a deep darkness filled neatly every single corner without neglecting any single bit..

The clock flashed 3am, breaking the black atmosphere with a weak bloody shaded light.

The man was sitting quitely on the couch, enjoying the howling of the wild wind as it tried vainly to shatter the windows. Outisde, a violent storm was gathering, ravaging the town heartlessly as in reminding people not to mess with nature.

It was certainly the most violent storm hitting the town since the past 10 years. Yet it sounded so peacefull, so madly harmonious to the sitting man. A little drop of blood would fall gracefully from times to others from his wet hands to meet with the ground forming a puddle of scarlet  fluid. The dripping's weak sound mixed with the symphony making it almostly perfect.. With a sloppy gloved hand he lifted his teacup to his lips and sipped his tea, he scowled, it tasted way too sweet to his taste. 

 

"Please.. Kill me.." A weakly audible voice managed to beg, the woman crawled hardly on the ground, a tail of blood marked her way like a mark reminding she was right there. Her sweaty face turned snow white.. She could feel her veins running out of blood and it was not just  a feeling, the fluid kept on running away from her body, escaping from every single leak.. It was painful, so unbearable.. A cold shiver penetraded her entrails, frozing every single part of her fragile body but it didn't matter that much, it didn't hurt that much, how could she bother about such a side effect when she was living the real deal.. The pain was so sharp it made her sick, it felt as if she was going to puke her insides.. She wanted to die right there. She was not suicidal nor pessimistic but the pain was way too dreadful she couldn't endure more.. 

With a final effort she lifted her arm and grabbed the man's sleeve.

 

 

"Please.." The thunder resounded like an explosion muting the victim's entreaty.. 

The man put down his half-empty teacup then looked at his victim gently. It was dark but his eyes got already used to the obscurity. 

 

"Why are you crying ?" He wispered softly as he wiped the woman's pearly tear.

"Aren't you prettier in red ? Don't put on that sad expression, here smile" 

 

His hand was still wet with the woman's scarlet blood, he pointed his finger towards her sweaty face and drew a large smile on her lips. Like an achieved masterpiece, the victim fell on the ground as the painter lifted his brush. The portayal was now perfect. The man admired his work proudly, such a view was enough to make him hit the ecstasy. 

He shot a quick glance at the clock, it was showing now 3:47am. He sipped his tea for the last time then walked away from the crime scene. There was no trace, no hints. He left like a shadow without letting a mark of his existance. Leaving behind him a perfect crime.

 

************************

 

The man opened the fridge lazily, he scanned the interface, it was full of tasty food. He didn't feel like eating anything, but his stomach didn't share the same point of view. It has been almost a week since the last time he had a decent meal yet he already got used to it. After a long moment of reflexion he decided himself on an apple and a bottle of milk. He picked his food then kicked the fridge's door close.

 

"The joker striked again" A female voice announced firmly, the reporter put on a serious expression when announcing the breaking news.

The joker.. It was like that the media decided to call him.. Certainly due to that habit of his of drawing smiles on his victims' faces.. Maybe some references to some comics caracter. (1)

He found the name rather vulgar, hypocrite. Calling a serial killer with such a lousy name, how irresponsible.. He popped his dead-tired body on the couch and rose the sound volume.

 

"Lee Sun Gyu, 23 years old was found dead in her apartment after being stabbed several times, the methods of the crime conforms perfectly to the Joker's. As usual the killer didn't leave any single track behind him."

 

The whole text sounded wrong, totally hypocritical. The media didn't give any single damn about the victim, there was no compassion, no sympathy. It was all about the scoop, the breaking news was going to make newspaper headlines, then it will definitely become the society's hot issue. "The poor women" people would say, faking an air of sympathy. Then after several days they would move on, forgetting completly about the poor victim's case. 

 

"Lee Sun Gyu" He repeted weakly again and again, like trying to engrave the woman's existence into his head. He was not going to forget her like those insincere people because no one will ever remember a victim more than her assassin.. Her existence will be there, eternal and perennial as long as he is alive, because a killer doesn't forget..

 

The man switched off the TV and layed on the couch, he could feel every single muscle of his body ache. He rested for a while but didn't sleep. It has been a long time since he last slept. How much ? Even he didn't know, it has been a long time since he stopped counting. 

 

The alarm rang annoyingly at 7:00 am, the man groaned, his traumatized body wasn't ready to resume its activity anytime soon, yet he ignored his needs and hopped off the couch painfully. With a lazy pace, he draged himself to the bathroom and hopped into the shower. He shivered as the ice cold water made first contact with his chest.

The liquid kept running on his body embrassing every single part of it giving him goosebumps. It didn't take him long to get used to the arctic temperature. He closed his eyes enjoying the refreshing feeling of the water hitting his chest. As he opened them again, the fluid turned out red and flowed quitely all over his skin, envelopping it completely. It was all just a vulgar joke played by his sick imagination.. Or was it real ? He couldn't tell. His mind wasn't sane enough to be able to differentiate.. Madness conquered his whole spirit blinding it, preventing it to see trough its own hallucinations.

 

He scanned his body as it got now fully covered with scarlet paint. He found the scene gross.. So disgusting it made him want to puke. Red didn't fit him at all.

 

With a lazy hand, he turned the valve tub then got out of the shower. He shot a glance at the foggy mirror to meet with his fuzzy reflection, the image wasn't clear enough, but he could destinguish cristal clear drops dripping all along his body then falling gracefully on the carpet wetting it. Dully, he put a towel around his waist and pulled his body towards the sink, he turned the valve letting the water flow freely, widly then crush violently down the sink.

With a quick move he wipped the froggy mirror with his arm and contemplated now his pale reflexion. His handsome face looked exausted, spectral.. His moon shiny gray eyes looked swallowed. He put his hands under the valve and crushed the cold water on his face trying vainly to wash away this tired expression. He pulled then the handle of a drawer exposing a set of medecines.. painkillers, sporifics... He pulled a little bottle, extracted two pills then swallowed them eagerly. 

A sharp headache hit him, he cramped his hands on the sink borders waiting for the pain to disapear. And so it did..

He shot a last glance at his now at ease expression then left the bathroom.

 

He walked slowly to his room marking his way with water strains. As he entered the piece he threw his wet towel on the bed. He walked towards his drawers and pulled a black suit and a black shirt. He didn't need a necktie, he found the clothing rather suffocating. He threw the set on his bed behind the wet clothe then put on some underwears. He dryed his hair, dressed quickly then silently left the house.

 

As he set his feet outside, a frozing breeze welcomed him. He shivered at the contact but got used to it quickly. He scanned the area and grimaced. The street was crowded with people, noisily poisonous humans.. He hated crowds more than anything, or rather he despised people. They take too much space and do nothing but corrupt the nature's beauties, he thought. He pushed his hands into his pockets and walked silently, doing his best to ignore the rotten noises reaching his ears. As he finally reached his destination he pushed smoothly the glass door and penetrated the piece accompanied by a little harminous ring of a bell. The smiling woman rushed towards him as her smile grew bigger, if it was even possible. 

 

"Welcome." She greeted happily. The man responded with a simple nod. "The regular?" She resumed.

 

"Yeah." He responded abstent-mindedly. The woman picked a set of red flowers then started her daily ritual, wrapping the whole thing artistically, producing finally a masterpiece bouquet. 

 

"Your girlfriend is really a lucky person." The woman commented with a wild smile as she handed the roses to the man.

 

"Yeah, she is." He whispered more to himself as he looked at his reflexion though the hazy glass. He payed then left the florist. The scarlet flowers shined elegantly under the weak sun's golden rays. The glowing reflection of the bloody light twisted madly on his dark suit like dancing to an inexistant music, like dancing to the life's murmur, to the cemetry's tacky silence.

 

The suited man walked between the rows of graves scanning every single one. He felt real good stepping on this poisonous ground. A worn odor of dead tickled his nostrils, it smelled like some addictive drugs. He closed his eyes enjoying the feeling of ecstasy the place filled him with. The grim clatter of dirt hitting the hard stones, the sinistral whistle of wind crying the deads.. Every single noise sounded beautifully harmonious to his ears, like a spectral concerto played by a ghost's orchestra. He resumed his search then stopped before one of the countless graves. The tombstone flashed "In loving memory of Lee Sun Gyu" What a lie.. How could a vulgar stone hold a memory of a person ? "Loving memory".. what a beautiful expression, one of those words we forget quickly. Even time doesn't pity, as time passes the elegent words would fade, erased by the world's cruelty. 

 

He layed the red bouquet on the cold grave then backed. 

 

"You look really good in red." He wispered then left. The roses he set on the woman's tomb was the last one she ever got. As the plant wilted, her memory faded as well. The woman was completly forgotten.. But she was still living into one memory, a dark little corner. Because a murderer do never forget..

OoOoOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOooooOoOoOoOOo

 

"Are you even listening to me?" The young man sighed, his interloctor was clearly not paying any attention to him.

 

"You are way too noisy, it's making me sick." The second person was troubled by the guest. He didn't have specefic feelings towards him, he didn't hate him nor did he apreciate him. He just couldn't stand loud people and Zelo was just this loud.

"I've been thinking.. Red would totally fit you, wanna see?" Yongguk commented calmly as he the fellow's reddish cheek. 

 

"No thanks!" The younger's voice broke at the end of his sentence. He desengaged from the older's touch. A drip of sweat slipped down his porcelaine face. He appreciated the other man but he couldn't help fearing him, he knew of what he was capable.

 

"Then leave. You know I hate company." The man replicated firmly as he served himself another cup of coffee. He sipped into his drink. It was bitter just the way he liked it.

 

"But.. The target.." The young man objected.

 

"I'll look at the files later." It was useless to debate with him when he was annoyed. Knowing that, the younger picked his coat then left. 

 

Yongguk closed his eyes entering into his daily meditation. He didn't think about anything. He just set his mind free and let himself appreciate the silence again. He could feel his head ache after hearing the non-stop talking the boy stuffed him with.

He opened his eyes painfully and peeked at the pile of files stacked on his desk. Tons of papers with tons of useless informations about his next victim. But no names. It was absurd, he didn't need any other informations besides this single one, yet it was ridiculously absent.. The victims, being into suspicious business, would always wear fake names to hide their true identity, and they were doing it rather well. Even the organisation, as powerful as it is, was unable to unearth this little information. But it didn't matter, he knew he would know it sooner or later, the mystery made the whole thing even more exciting. 

He opened the top file, a woman's picture was attached. He read some needed informations about the target then detached the shot and pined it on a big board between a bunch of pictures. It looked perfect there between the others, yet it lacked this touch of his, this pretty red smile the other pictures had drawn on their faces. He caressed the little paper gently. 

 

"You will look even better with my collection" He wispered to it then went back to his desk. He tossed the files into his trashbin. He didn't need to know anything else about the woman, not even the so-called crime she did which condemned her. He didn't care about the organisation either. Was it evil or some noble justicary? He didn't give a damn about it. For him the organisation was just a mere tool he used to identify his next target easily. They also knew that pretty well but didn't care much about it since the man did a great job. 

 

With a sloppy hand he dialed the only phone number he knew and waited for his interlocutor to answer, which didn't take long.

 

"So you did take a look at it after all." The fellow's voice faked an irritated tone.

 

"I told you I will." 

 

"So what is it ?" Zelo sighed. He knew the man needed him to make the first contact with the target, and even though he would just do little, it made him really happy to know that the other one did trust him even a little bit. 

 

"Contrive to make me infiltrate the host club the target frequent." Yongguk ordered as he served himself an nth cup of coffee. 

 

"Count on me." The older could almost "hear" the younger smile through the phone. He was pretty sure the boy was a masochist. Always enjoying to be ordered by him and he actually enjoyed playing the sadists, or more like he really WAS one.

He swallowed his drink in one shot then layed on the couch resting his body. He was more than excited for tomorrow.

 

****************************************

 

"Welcome into our Host Club, madam" The young host bowed gallantly. He helped the woman take of her coat then asked her gently to follow him.

 

"Here, the private room you reserved. Our number 1# host will immediatly come keep you company." With that he excused himself. It didn't take long for the waited host to penetrate the room. The woman looked at him with amazement. The man was totally her type. He was actually the type of evey single woman, he was wearing a black Tuxedo with a halfly ed black shirt, exposing his bare chest.

The cold expression on his face made his hot face even more irresistible. 

 

"That is one handsome host we got here." The woman commented playfully.

 

"Thank you, madam." Yongguk's expression didn't leave its dull coldness. He sat calmly on the sofa behind the woman.

 

"Call me Jessica." She replicated as she sticked even closer to him.

 

"What would you like to drink, Jessica?" He didn't bother complementing her fake name or her image like would do any other host in order to win the woman's heart. He hated being an insensere cliché, even if he had to be one. The woman didn't feel bothered by her host's coldness, on the contrary, she found this part of him y. 

 

"The best wine you have." She commanded arrogantly as in showing how rich she was.

 

"As you wish." The man left the room for a couple of minutes then came back with a bottle of wine. "Château La Mondotte Saint-Emilion 1996, the best Red wine in the country." He opened the bottle and poured the scarlet liquid into two glasses. Yongguk rose his drink. The smooth room's light pierced the fluid creating a glowing crystalline reflexion, the shades twisted madly with evey movement coming from the fellow's hand. This latter admired the show. 

 

"Did you know.." He started lazily, more like speaking out his mind. "A legend says that, nobles used to try to poison each other, so clinking glasses together" He proposed a toast to the woman who toasted back with pleasure. "..would cause each drink to spill over into the others' therefore showing the other part the drink is safe." Yongguk's words flowed clearly, not really directed to a specefic person. 

 

"And so, why are you telling me that? Are you by any chance trying to poison me ?" She asked playfully then sipped into her drink faking a noble courtesy.

 

"Who knows." The woman laughed, taking the man's mysterious words for a joke. She knew there wasn't any chance the man would try to poison her, she knew there wasn't any chance he would try to KILL her or so she thought. She laughed arrogantly pretending to know everything. Big mistake, she was wrong.

 

With that a dead silence reigned on them; Yongguk wasn't making any efforts to entertain the old girl and the latter wasn't disturbed by it. She rested her head on the man's shoulder and embrassed his arm like fetching an intexistant affection. 

 

"Shall we dance." The woman suggested suddenly. She stood up and fixed her extravagent white dress. Yongguk went to a corner and started a Juke-box. An old Jazz song flowed in a slow motion. The notes were lazy.. Sloppy yet the whole thing matched perfectly.

Yongguk pulled the woman gently towards him and envelloped her petite waist.

Their bodies twisted with a perfect syncronisation. The man's steps were firm and composed while the woman's movements were quite loud and showy, but the whole scene matched perfectly.

 

"You are a good dancer." Jessica complimented as the notes went smoothly. The man didn't answer back and just kept accompagning the lady's movements. 

"So.. you was thinking about poisonning me didn't you. What a bad boy." She murmured seductively into his ear. A nimble hand sneaked smoothly on his chest and caressed the white bare skin. 

 

"You'd wish I had." He wispered back. The woman felt a gentle hand caress her stomach. The touch's warmth turned quickly into a frozing chill running up her spines. A painful cold embarressed her soul as her body heat decided cruelly to abondon her. With a shaking arm she touched her rib. She could sense a warm fluid leaking out her body. She looked at her hand terrified. The red liquid drippied silently.. Blood..

 

The woman broke from the host's grip. She backed painfully, it took her a big effort not to lose her equilibre. 

 

"Where are you going ? The real show just started." With that he pulled the woman gently by her arm and walked towards the table. With his free hand he picked the bottle of wine and poured its content on her. A sharp pain hit her like a Thunderbolt as the alcool met with her open wound.

 

"Look at you, you look splendid." Yongguk commented gently as he admired the view. The woman fell on the ground, panting. Her face turned snow white as blood stopped circulating. Her blond hair was dripping wet and her white dress was now stained with a clear red. 

 

"Red.. What a wonderful color." He murmured smoothly. The scene behind him was enough to make him hit ecstasy.

 

"Why?" Jessica managed to say. Her sweaty face twisted with pain as she held her ribs tightly.

 

"Why~ I wonder.." The fellow bowed calmly and caressed the woman's frozen cheek. The latter felt way too powerless to snatch his hand away. He flashed a warm reassuring smile then with a nimble finger drew a wide big smile on her pained face. After admiring the complete masterpiece he walked calmly towards the sofa, sat conformably and rose his glass high.

 

"Cheers!" He murmured to himself. He toasted in honor of that suffering woman.. in honor of that now dead corpse.. In honor of a perfect crime.. 

 

*****************************************************

 

A tiklish smell of doom floated gracefully up in the air. The wind howled, crying the deads. The sky cried its heart out as a cold heartless rain fell quitely on the silent stones washing out their loneliness, their misery. A tragic piece of theater with only deads and specters as actors. The scenarist, for lack of ideas, condemned the play with a killing quiteness.

A single man stepped into the decor, his worn face washed up with a sad rain. The drops flowed over his pale visage confusing inexistant tears. His light steps on the cinderish floor echoed into muffled catters, annoying the dead's peace. A sudden bang resounded, yongguk's lazy eyes followed the sound's provenence to meet with a lifless hand coming out from the ground, while haunted souls flew nonchalantly around him. The hand, followed by a dead body came out grimly, then walked slowly towards him. Yongguk just ignored it. Was it mad to pray for better hallucinations? he thought. 

After a quick analyse he found what he was looking for. He posed delicately the flowers on the woman's grave and prayed silently for her. With that he walked off when a new figure caught his sight. The new actor stood quitely before a random stone, a sad expression on his figure. The last rays of the sunset glowed elegently on his red suit. 

 

"Visiting a relative?" Bang questionned, surprising himself.

 

"No.." The redly suited man replied absent-mindly as he posed his unique red flower on the grave. "I don't even know this person." He closed his fox-eyes and prayed silently for this unkown soul. "The poor guy was totally forgotten.. How sad." He resumed calmly. 

 

"I guess." Yongguk commented almost soundlessly.

 

"I wonder.." The man's thoughts flowed loudly. "When I die.. I wonder if I will be completely forgotten." He threw his head to the back accepting the rain's soft tickles on his face. Bang looked from afar, the scene of the red man silently soaking under the rain looked like an old painting. A perfect mixture of sorrow and pain with a little touch of mystery.

 

"I will totally be." He laughed suddenly mocking himself then walked off silently 

leaving behind him a stunned man.