The interrogation room Jongin is being held in is even colder and smaller than the one Kyungsoo had been in mere minutes ago.

Jongin is sitting across from Kyungsoo, his hands still cuffed and his eyes anywhere but on Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo is simply watching Jongin, words failing him once again. He doesn’t know what to say.

Then he remembers that if he doesn’t say something, Jongin could go to prison for twenty-five years or more.

Twenty-five is a long time.

Kyungsoo opens his mouth to speak, but Jongin says something first.

“You know, I was seventeen and stupid when we first started this .” Kyungsoo clamps his mouth shut. “I didn’t mean for it to get so far… I just… couldn’t stop,” he admits shakily. “I don’t know why I couldn’t just say ‘no’ to him, but … it looks so bad now that I think about it.”

“Jongin…”

“I’m so, so, so ing sorry about Chanyeol. I… I got there too late. He-He was already dead by the time I got there… , what are you going to tell Baekhyun? How am I going to look any of their loved ones in the eye?” Jongin’s tanned skin turns pale as he thinks about it, running his hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry about that right now, Jongin,” Kyungsoo murmurs, wanting to get straight to what he needs to do.

But his words only seem to anger Jongin. “Don’t worry about it?! How can I not ing worry about it?! I killed people, Soo, or at least I helped and sometimes, I just knew and didn’t do a damn thing!” he spits angrily, slamming his fist onto the metal table.

Although he jumps in shock at his lover’s harsh words, Kyungsoo’s hand makes its way to settle on top of Jongin’s tightly clenched fist. Jongin’s eyes snap up to look right into Kyungsoo’s.

His words are soft, airy, like his touch. “I don’t blame you. I really don’t, Jongin. I don’t believe you’re capable of being a murderer, not without being convinced by somebody else,” he confesses quietly.

Jongin seems to relax a little.

“I want to speak to that detective. The one that was in here earlier.”

Kyungsoo nods. “Joonmyeon.” As soon as his name leaves Kyungsoo’s lips, the angelic man walks in, closing the door behind him.

He offers Jongin a smile as he pulls a second chair up, sitting next to Kyungsoo at the interrogation table. Jongin doesn’t return the gesture, simply continues to stare Kyungsoo right in the eye. Joonmyeon doesn’t comment on it, just takes out that same recording device and sets it on the table, pressing the button to start recording the pending conversation.

Jongin doesn’t bother to look at the detective as he speaks. “I used to be normal, I suppose you can say. I act normal, really. No one knows what goes on behind the mask I wear. But that first time, the first kill, was Taemin. Taemin was a friend of mine in high school. He was older than me. I respected him.”

He pauses, shuddering. Kyungsoo squeezes his hand tighter. “It’s okay, Jongin,” he says reassuringly. Jongin nods to him.

“I never meant to hurt him. I really didn’t. But he hurt a close friend of mine, he hurt her really, really bad. He cheated on her with her older sister. Do you know how that feels, to know someone you trusted could do something so awful?” he grinds out, his words burning with rage. “I just wanted to talk that day.”

“So you went to his house?” Joonmyeon prods gently.

Jongin nods. “Yeah. But someone else was there first. Her brother, the brother of the girl he cheated on. His name was Oh Sehun.” Kyungsoo feels his insides freeze, his grip on Jongin’s hand slackening. “He was my age. A year younger than both Taemin and my friend, his older sister. See, Sehun never liked his oldest sister, the one Taemin cheated with. He called her a and a . But he loved his sister who was only a year older than him. And that means that he hated Taemin for hurting his favorite sister,” he admits.

He suddenly goes quiet, breathing steadily to calm himself. Joonmyeon looks at Kyungsoo, who is still frozen, and makes a note to talk to him after the interrogation is over. “Did Sehun do something to Taemin? Was he angry enough to hurt him?” he asks gently.

Jongin nods again. “Yes… He had a knife. He was so angry that day. I started screaming for him to stop, but once that knife went into Taemin’s side, over and over and over again…” Shaking his head, Jongin lowers his head in shame. “I didn’t try anymore after the first time. It’s not that I couldn’t, it was just that I didn’t want to. I liked it. I liked seeing Sehun hurting Taemin.”

He hears Kyungsoo’s quick, heavy breathing and squeezes his hand, giving the older a sorrowful, regretful look. He takes another deep breath and then continues, his voice devoid of all emotion.

“I got myself tested after that. I couldn’t just ignore it. I was scared. Apparently, I’m what people call a sociopath. The doctors told me that there’s really no difference between a psychopath and a sociopath. It’s just that a sociopath isn’t as likely to turn to violence as a psychopath.”

Jongin lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head and lowering it, facing the ground.

“I say that’s bull.”

Kyungsoo can’t help but start bawling as soon as the door to the interrogation room closes. Joonmyeon immediately wraps his arms around the younger boy and pulls him into the room with a giant, glass window that looks in on the interrogation room. He hugs Kyungsoo tightly, understanding just how torturous, how painful, that interview must have been for him.

“Se-Sehun is his-s partn-ner?” the doe eyed male wails as quietly as he possibly can, burying his face in Joonmyeon’s neat blazer. “That-That baby? Sweet, in-innocent, l-little Oh-h-h Se-Sehun?”

Joonmyeon looks up to the doorway, his eyes landing on the tall figure of Yifan, who nods at him in acknowledgement. The smaller nods back, knowing what they both have to do as Yifan disappears.

He looks back down at Kyungsoo, sympathy dancing in his eyes. “Is there someone that you can call? Anyone you can talk to?” Kyungsoo shakes his head. “Any relatives?” Another shake. “Friends?”

“Jus-Just Luha-han. But-But he’s Se-Sehun’s boyfr-friend… I can’t-can’t do th-this to him-im…” he sobs.

Joonmyeon frowns. He bites his lip. “Why don’t I call my brother in? His name is Jongdae. He works in therapy. You can talk to him about this,” he says soothingly, rubbing Kyungsoo’s back.

The younger agrees quickly, nodding so fast that Joonmyeon swore that he’d lose his head. “I-I’d like th-that.”

Joonmyeon quickly excuses himself from the room, pulling his phone from his pants pocket. He dials a number as the door closes behind him. Kyungsoo catches only a few words before the door slams shut. “Jongdae? Hey, I need you to come down to the station. Why? Because I need your help,” he said, tapping his feet impatiently. “Alright, I’m expecting you in five. No, five isn’t too damn short, I’m having a mid-life crisis here! Yeah, I know I’m only twenty-four. Fifteen? Fine.”

He walks out towards Kyungsoo, who has seated himself on an uncomfortable office chair, and is still sniffling, wiping his tears away with his sleeve. Joonmyeon coughs, catching Kyungsoo’s attention.

“Oh… J-Joonmyeon,” he hiccups. “Is your brother coming?”

The older detective nods. “Yeah, he’s on his way.” There is a pause between the two males, Kyungsoo’s whimpers being the only sound exchanged between the two. “Listen,” Joonmyeon begins. “I need something from you…”

Kyungsoo takes a few deep, calming breaths, shuddering as he does. “You need Sehun’s address, right?” he mutters. Joonmyeon nods. “He hasn’t been home lately. It’s been three days, and Luhan hasn’t heard a word.” Kyungsoo’s explanation must sound so stupid, but it’s the truth.

Heaving a sigh and crossing his arms in exasperation, Joonmyeon grumbles, “I figured as much. He must’ve known that we were onto the murderers…” He stops, seeing Kyungsoo’s face pale and eyes water once more.

Murderer.

The wide-eyed boy hates that word being tossed around to so casually describe Kim Jongin, the baby-faced animal lover who just so happened to be both Kyungsoo’s boyfriend and a sociopathic serial killer.

Although…

Murderer seems to be the only logical thing that Kyungsoo can think about Jongin at this point.

“I’ll give you Sehun and Luhan’s address… so please, warn Luhan while you can.”

A series of loud knocks on the door awaken Luhan from his light sleep. He frowns, wiping his eyes, bloodshot from an excess of crying and a lack of sleep. Practically falling out of bed, he stumbles towards the door.

He blinks in surprise when he sees a familiar face; Wu Yifan, the officer who had arrested Luhan for drunk driving almost four years ago.

It was that night, the night he spent in lockup, that he met Sehun. Sehun had been suspected of vandalism and petty theft that night, but was let go due to lack of evidence. Luhan had been a mess that night. The only reason he’d been arrested was because his friend, Tao, had ditched him for a girl that night, and Luhan had no way of getting home.

Back then, Luhan had just moved from China to stay with Tao. He barely spoke Korean at all and was making rapid excuses in his native language. Yifan was the only detective who understood and, thankfully, took pity on the youthful-looking Chinese boy. Luhan was released the next morning with no charges.

He bumped into Sehun as he left the station.

After that night, Luhan had never thought, in his wildest dreams, that the very officer who helped him out of a jam when he was still a greenhorn in Korea, would be standing at his door.

But Yifan stands in front of him, looking much more serious than he had years ago. He looks older, like the years haven’t been very good to him. At his side is an angelic man who looks around the same age as Yifan. He looks serious, too, but also sympathetic.

“He-Hello,” Luhan stutters out. He wishes that he was wearing something other than his silky, pink jammies. “Is… Is there something I can do to help you?”

Yifan doesn’t hesitate. “I’m Wu Yifan, and this is my partner, Kim Joonmyeon. Do you know where your boyfriend, Oh Sehun, is?” Luhan shakes his head. “Then, I’m going to ask you to come with us. There’s a few things we think you need to know.”

Luhan crosses his arms, looking between Yifan and the other man, Joonmyeon. “Why? Is Sehun in trouble again? What did he do this time, joyride?”

The two detectives exchange hesitant looks.

It’s Joonmyeon who speaks next. “Maybe you should sit down, Mr. Luhan.” Luhan shakes his head fiercely. “I really think you should sit down,” he insists, the sympathy growing stronger in his eyes.

Looking to Yifan, who nods, Luhan agrees. He lets the two inside and makes tea as they sit down on the couch. Luhan takes a seat on the chair adjacent to the couch. He pours the tea without a word, offering a cup to both detectives.

Yifan turns it down with a shake of his head, but Joonmyeon graciously accepts with a slight bow of his head.

“Now… can you please tell me what this is about?” Luhan asks, his entire heart filling with dread. The feeling weighs his heart down into his stomach.

Neither of the detectives speak right away.

Yifan finally speaks, “We have a Kim Jongin in custody right now. He’s under suspicion of killing eleven people in the past five years.”

Luhan nearly drops his teacup.

“Jongin?! That idiot baby? He couldn’t swat a fly without feeling bad… Are you sure you don’t have the wrong person?”

“We’re sure,” is the reply he gets from Joonmyeon. “We’re sure because he’s admitted to all eleven of the murders. And those eleven are the ones that he’s participated in.” That makes Luhan stop.

He thinks for a moment, the words laying in his brain to be processed.

He stutters out, “S-So… Jongin… he-he had a partner?” Yifan nods. Luhan shakes his head quickly, violently. “No, no, you’re making a mistake. It’s not Sehun, we’ve been together since his high school days… I-I wo