The Siren's song is irresistible. It takes over, until you're drowning in the song and in the sea.

-Pain and Power: the Empire of the Sirens by Park Chanyeol

Minseok's last memory was him by the beach.

He lived near the sea, but never felt the need to visit it until today. He distinctly remembered the feeling of the grains of sand that had made their way into his shoes, more and more getting in between his toes as he walked. The little pricks didn't hurt -- they were just annoying enough that he couldn't ignore it.

And then he turned and was walking into the sea. The water moistened the sand and he made wet squelching sounds with every step. The rolling waves filled the imprints his feet left and he felt cut off from land and he found himself surrounded by the deep dark blue. It was as if he was alone in the world, alone with the waves. They lapped at his ankles, then his calves, and when they were at his knees, numbing the joints, he suddenly questioned why he was in the middle of the sea during the winter. He couldn't feel his toes or the annoying bits of sand anymore and he wasn't even sure if he was still moving.

But then the water was at his thighs and the roaring waves thundering in his ears suddenly and unknowingly silenced, muted as a . . . something floated above. It was melodious yet tuneless, wordless yet meaningful; it was beautiful and painted the end of the world, and as the spirit crooned, he found himself wanting to weep.

And then he was crying, the tears rolling down his cheeks and falling silently into the sea that was up to his navel. The ripples reached the shore that he would never see again and he wanted to wonder at the drops that crystallized and froze in the winter air, but he couldn't. He tried to imagine his family, his mother, his friends, his home and the images blurred and wavered in the distance, tauntingly out of reach. He tried to imagine his own face, he tried to do something, anything, but his thoughts were broken and sluggish, strewn across the ocean.

And then the waves were at his chest.

He gasped for breath as the realization hit him with the icy shock. But it was too late because he was too far gone.

He tried gasping again -- he tried breathing -- and the salty seawater entered his nose and began to fill him.

And then he was drowning, the freezing waves batting him effortlessly from side to side as if he was a toy, and the memory flickered and faded. Consciousness escaped him no matter how frantically he chased, slipping through his fingers like the fine grains of sand that were still in his shoes and weighing him down.

The water reached his lungs, forcing out the oxygen and letting numbness seep in.

The water at his cheeks, washing away the tears and burning his eyes.

And darkness.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“K . . . a . . . i . . .” Kai muttered as he slowly drew the blade of his pocketknife across the fat nouveau riche's stomach. He paused momentarily, wrinkling his nose when the skin refused to let him draw a straight line for the “i” and ended a little jagged.

“ this,” he said. He leaned over to dab the knife in the open wrist wound, still bleeding, and back to dot the “i” and finally finish his masterpiece.

He stood up and stretched, wiping his hands on his pants, not caring about getting blood all over the expensive designer jeans. To be honest, he had more experience in getting rid of blood stains than girls who hit puberty too early. And anyway, the stains added a nice touch to his overall image.

Satisfied, he surveyed the room with cool content. It was the king suite of a five star hotel and Kai had to admit that the man, though disgustingly oily with a disgusting personality to match, had good taste. The room was everything creamy and soft and being in it made Kai feel fluffy. The walls were some off-white color that managed to look okay, and the shaggy carpet that reminded Kai of honey caramel was even more beautiful with the corpse lying serenely across it. The bedsheets were light gold silk, and so were the curtains that billowed from the air conditioning, letting in rays of warm sunshine.

“Speaking of sunshine . . .” he said out loud. He didn't care that people thought talking to themselves was weird because he enjoyed it when the public called him a psychopath. He really wasn't one, because psychopaths lack the ability to love and he knew how to love. He killed for love. But he liked it when people called him that; it made him chuckle a little inside.

Pulling out his phone -- a Samsung Galaxy too big to be practical -- he called number two on speed dial.

“Hey,” he said cheerfully when the other side picked up. “Jongdae and I are going to Hyo's bar. Wanna come?” He leaned against the wall and absently nudged the corpse with his toe.

“What, to celebrate your most recent success?” Sehun replied. He sounded a little distracted, but it was probably just his obsession with acting disinterested because it made him “cool.”

“Yeah, so you're coming right?”

Kai knelt down to study the golden ring on the victim's finger. It caught the sunshine and flashed obnoxiously into his eye, and he decided to leave it alone.

Sehun made a grunt of agreement. “Just let me finish this job.”

“Oh, you're doing a job right now?” He moved quickly around the room, straightening some things, knocking others over. “Then I guess I shouldn't distract you,” he said with mock seriousness as he wiped down everything he had touched.

The other boy grunted again. “Yeah, stop bothering me.” And the line clicked off.

Kai rolled his eyes and called number one on speed dial while stuffing all his trash (gloves, baby wipes, his hotel slippers, that sort of stuff) into a plastic 7-11 bag with the other hand. “Hyung, come pick me up,” he said without letting the other greet him.

“Okay, Nini!” The other's singsong voice sang through the speaker into Kai's ear and he couldn't help but roll his eyes again.

Ending the call, he surveyed the room one last time before opening the door and leaving. The door clicked shut behind him, hiding the corpse -- a surprise gift for the hotel's workers. As Kai stepped into the elevator and watched the numbers turn, he thought of the nouveau riche that had been madly in love with him for the past three months.

It really wouldn't be a surprise to anyone that someone as rich, powerful and bad-tempered as Mr. Lee would be the target of an assassin. He had always been angry, impulsive and a little depressed, until that new intern Kim Junmyeon appeared. Because Junmyeon, with his cheerful, bright and obsequious demeanor, really helped Mr. Lee become a better person, but sadly it wasn't enough. For things like this, it would never be enough.

So in a little while -- maybe tonight or maybe early morning the next day -- when the company receives news that their CEO had passed away, no one would be surprised. And no one would think twice when Junmyeon writes a letter of resignment, saying he can't bear to work there anymore. In fact, they might even nod sympathetically and mention him in their funeral speeches.

The elevator dinged and Kai stepped out, smirking at the predictability of the mundanes.

so yeah, 2 plots.

please comment! ^_^