He got him cornered. He had made sure he had no way out. Keeping the gun in his right hand and his knife still hidden in the back pocket of his pants, as he slowly got closer to his victim, without showing the slightest hint of fright.
          Jaehyo wasn’t the guy you would expect to be a homicidal maniac, but guess what. He was. And had been for quite some time too. His first murder was an accident. He was with his friend, out in the woods when, whoops, he had driven the other up a tree and was suddenly in the progress of cutting through his friend’s veins with his own keys. They were only 16 years old, Jaehyo having been born earlier in the year. After this he wanted to test himself, see what more he could endure before going mad. Anyone who looks at him can see, he was already a psychopath, but he would never have admitted that.
          Ahn Jaehyo hadn’t realised that this was an addiction - a little something he could never get out of no matter how hard he tried. Not even when his older brother begged for him to stop, begged for him to get to his senses, begged him to get himself together and seek some help. Not even when the older man gasped in a silent beg for air as Jaehyo tightened his grip around his hyung’s neck, until he would never beg again. Never do anything again, for that matter. Jaehyo had looked up at his brother’s wife’s face, shocked and with pure disgust plastered in her features, and given her a nod. A nod, as if nothing had happened. The poor woman had been petrified, her eyes never leaving Jaehyo when he walked out of his hyung’s apartment, heading back to his own. Happily strolling down the streets he had whistled a soft tune to himself, his suit covered in the blood of his 5 year old nephew. Not caring about the stares or attention he got, seemingly oblivious to all of it. This was all just normal to him.
          He hadn’t even noticed his wrongdoing when he had picked up a e from the streets, brought her up to a hotel room and then beaten her senseless. Hadn’t noticed it when he struggled with getting a blood stain out of his favourite dress tie. Jaehyo hadn’t even noticed what he was doing when he closed the door behind him, leaving a stranger tied up in a cellar slowly filling up with poisonous gas.
          Right, where were we. Jaehyo had him cornered... suppose you want to know who ‘he’ is. Also suppose you’ve already figured out he’s just another victim. He kept getting closer, holding his gun at eye level with the other.
          “Are you scared, little Zico~?” he said in a sing-song voice. Getting even closer, poking the other’s cheek with the gun, grazing it over his skin and under his jaw. Pushing it upwards, he lifted up Zico’s chin and marveled at him. The only response he got was Zico trying once more to get out of his handcuffs, striking a death glare at Jaehyo, which didn’t seem to notice. Jaehyo then moved in and pressed a small kiss on the other’s lips. He pulled up his knife with his left hand before moving it to the back of Zico’s head, holding the knife with his index and middle finger but tangling the rest in his hair, tugging at it causing Zico to accidentally part his lips with a small sound. Jaehyo used the chance and deepened the kiss, massaging the other’s scalp. He pulled away with a devious smirk, twisted his left hand so that it wrapped around Zico’s neck, carefully placed the blade just above that oh-so-precious vein, and made the cut.