Act 1, Scene 1

It is a routine job, as far as these things could ever be routine. Some rich businessman or another who had failed to honour his underground obligations after making it big enough to hire a couple of bodyguards. The house is your typical on-top-of-a-hill modern mansion, all glass and steel and no elegance whatsoever.

Act 1, Scene 2

The bodyguards all two of them, what a joke are easy enough to despatch in minutes. Kibum doesn’t break a sweat. He never expected to.

The man, as expected, is in the master bedroom with his wife. They are awake and active when Kibum comes in through the window, but it takes no more than a minute to silence them both with his Glock 19. Unfortunately, he had not considered the mistress being present as well, and she manages to make it out of the door screaming before he can take care of her.

No matter. He is supposed to empty the house anyway, as a warning to future contemnors. This is merely a complication.

There is an elderly woman in the first room downstairs. The mistress, who is currently lying dead on the stairs, did not wake her at all. His bullet lets her sleep for all time.

Act 1, Scene 3

There are two boys, he knows. Kibum prides himself on his research; it’s one of the reasons he does so well. Both in high school – they could put up a fight. He goes to deal with the elder first, but the boy’s bedroom is empty. He understands enough psychology to know where the boy would have run to, though.

There is no light in the younger’s room, but the boys are breathing heavily enough that he can hear exactly where they are. It is easy enough to find the light switch – on the right wall next to the door – and Kibum throws it on. The elder boy has ducked behind a nightstand, but Kibum can see from the door that he is a 6-footer at least. It takes two shots to fell him; one to the back and another one in the head.

The younger dashes out from underneath the bed when he delivers the kill shot and makes a run for the door, but somehow stumbles over his own feet and falls into Kibum.

The gun goes skittering into the corner. The kid is all elbows and fight and soft long hair, and Kibum throws himself atop the smaller boy to stop him from getting away. The boy wriggles out of his grasp with surprising flexibility and flees the room. Cursing, Kibum retrieves his gun and gives chase.

The boy hasn’t gotten very far. The front door is operated by a passcode and his fingers shake too hard for him to key it in. He turns around and Kibum lifts his gun, ready to end everything within his self-imposed time limit of ten minutes. Two surprises in one night is not something he is happy with.

Where his brother cowered, the boy is defiant, raising his chin to look at Kibum from underneath his ridiculously long fringe. Up close, Kibum can appreciate the fact that he is stunningly beautiful, but that makes no difference because he’s killed many beautiful people before.

Then the boy looks at him, looks straight into his eyes, and Kibum finds himself unable to pull the trigger.