The Killer's Nightmare - Chapter 1
Jaejoong/Yunho, Yoochun/Junsu
The ultimate killer he is, but what is it that haunts him so?
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The Killer's Nightmare; Chapter 1
Jaejoong sat alone in his expensive hotel suite, three shots of cognac resting on the marble counter in front of him. The bartender over the phone had advised against taking the cognac in shots, but Jaejoong wasn’t in a sipping mood. Besides, he’d bought the entire bottle; he should decide how he should have the liquor after spending a neat $10,000 on it alone.
He looked at his watch, feeling a little stupid for watching his alcohol “breathe”. Ten minutes should be enough, he thought, deciding against the rattling bartender’s nagging.
Jaejoong picked up the center glass and tipped his head backwards very slightly. Closing his eyes, he downed the shot. His nose burned from the spirits but his head buzzed with satisfaction. A plethora of flavors spread itself out on his tongue and Jaejoong immediately regretted taking the shot. He found himself indeed ignorant of tasting cognac, now fully aware that the cognac had been wasted down his oesophagus.
Sipping would definitely have been more apt.
There was much time on his hands, since the organization rarely sent him on runs; the rest of them were deft enough to handle the everyday requests.
A distant beep rang through the suite, soft, yet still catching his ears.
One, Hero: R155. Seoul, South Korea. Jung Joomin, kkangpae Chambers - 1 week.
The second glass had him already tipsy, the alcohol gradually seeping into his system, numbing it all and leaving him with buzzing warmth. It caught him by surprise - Jaejoong was never one to get drunk; he always had a good alcohol tolerance.
Slowly ambling towards the large four-poster bed, he dove into the comfortable duvets, leaving the third glass untouched. He had had enough. There, as he drifted in and out of slumber, he lay await for sunrise and his eventual flight back to Korea.
France had been beautiful.
“Get me a new chef now. Give Wang two months’ pay and tell him to go to hell. Better yet, get that stick out of his fat ass!” Joomin barked. Fireworks of saliva exploded from his mouth as he spoke.
“Is there a reason for that, boss? Because he’s already the seventh chef dismissed…” Yunho asked carefully, though not at all surprised.
“I want a new chef and I want him now, just get the damned job done!” Joomin scowled irritably at his nephew, unhappy at his questioning. A gang leader wouldn’t be a gang leader if his subordinates didn’t follow his instructions, right? He shooed Yunho away.
“Yes sir, right away.”
Apologetically, Yunho dismissed the much angered chef Wang, a fifty-something plumpish egoist who’d been working in Chambers for barely four days. A new task appeared before him. He had to hire a new chef before Joomin’s stipulated dinnertime, which was coming in an approximate hour.
Yunho cursed, irritated that he had to do such dirty work. Joomin never acted like the leader he should be, but instead took over Chambers as a tyrant, often giving unnecessary trouble to his subordinates. He didn’t even go easy on Yunho. In fact, Joomin frequently picked on the other to embarrass him, to test out his limits - anything to downgrade Yunho’s status in the gang.
Where the hell is Seonghyo? He should be doing this, not me.
Yunho pressed a speed dial and waited for the other end to pick up, impatience growing with each ring.
Finally, the old man answered and their conversation left Yunho feeling satisfied but odd, because the other side seemed to be in too much of a hurry, his voice trembling and constrained.
He’d made the necessary arrangements - another supposedly world renowned chef was on his way - Yunho only wished he would be anywhere near satisfactory for the impossible Joomin.
“I heard it’s because he refused to cook congee!”
“I do not wish to cook some low class porridge!” one of the workers had mimicked.
Yunho grinned, amused by the various dialogues he had overheard in the kitchens during his idle stroll. The entire situation was very silly, not to mention beyond childish. Apparently Wang refused to stoop below his status to cook a bowl of congee that Joomin had requested and therefore got himself fired.
He lifted his wrist to glance at the TAG Heuer as he waited, frowning at the clock face. Ridiculous as he was, Yunho was still compelled to satisfy Joomin. He tapped his fingers against his car, seconds later spotting an Audi turning into the estate.
Chefs don’t drive sports cars, do they?
Alert, Yunho went forward to meet the visitor.
“My name is Kim Jaejoong, the new chef,” the man spoke before words could even reach Yunho’s mouth.
This is…the chef? Should I be concerned?
“You don’t look like a chef,” Yunho commented, surveying his new employee. He was expecting an old, greasy face in the standardized white chef uniform with the big hat. Not this one that was fair and impeccable. Kim Jaejoong’s outfit consisted of only a pair of skinny jeans, boots and a casual shirt. Not at all chef-like.
“You don’t look like a member of a gang like Chambers,” he replied swiftly as he contemplated the building that loomed ahead.
Yunho grinned, thinking they would get along in the future. Jaejoong was perhaps about his age, maybe a little older.
“Do you really cook, though?”
“Even if I can’t, you’ve already hired me, haven’t you? You can be extra careful and check for poisons if you like,” he snapped, eyebrows hitched in irritation.
Surprised, Yunho furrowed his brows, lost for words.
“Just… whatever,” Jaejoong kept his eyes averted.
Yunho closed his mouth. Maybe they weren’t going to be friends after all.
“I’ll take you to the kitchen. You’ve got -” Yunho looked at his watch again, “Less than an hour to prepare some congee for the boss.”
The chef nodded, unbothered by the urgency.
“I’m Yunho, by the way.”
Chef Jaejoong was getting more and more agitated by the minute. Time was running out for him, as the week was coming to an end and he had yet to take down his target, Jung Joomin. All because the nasty man had not been sacking his chefs for a while, then his “employer” would not consent to let Yunho hire him until Jaejoong threatened to slit his throat.
For the worst part, the weather was not looking good.
Abalone and scallions sliced, boiled chicken shredded, garlic diced, Jaejoong was left with the century eggs. He took the eggs one by one, slicing them ever so thinly and carefully. It was crucial to slice them as thin as possible, because Jaejoong knew himself that large chunks of these eggs especially, tasted revolting.
“Jaejoong!” an urgent, low voice spoke from somewhere behind him.
“Shit!” He hissed in frustration, dropping the knife in his hands. Blood started to trickle from beneath his fingernail, where the knife had sliced the flesh instead of the egg.
“Are you alright? Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” said Yunho with genuine concern as he leant over Jaejoong’s form to peer at his finger. Jaejoong ignored him, and sucked on his injured finger before spitting the blood out seconds later.
Scratching the side of his head, Yunho looked at him guiltily and said, “I was just trying to remind you that you’ve got only six minutes left. That’s all. Sorry about that.”
“I’m almost done, anyway. Just hold the egg and I’ll slice it with my right hand,” he ordered.
Kim Jaejoong, Chamber’s new chef, returned to the main office, where the obese head of Chambers sat wolfing down the congee he’d just prepared. He held a covered dish western-style, his injured finger bandaged and covered with a glove. Despite clear reluctance from Jaejoong, Yunho - citing issues in his conscience - just had to make sure it was well taken care of.
However, no one seemed to notice little shapes protruding from behind his white tablier.
“How’s the congee, sir?” asked Jaejoong politely, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Joomin took his time to reply the enquiry, for his hands never left the spoon that kept ferrying mouthfuls of porridge from the bowl to his mouth. When he did, he brushed Jaejoong off, saying, “What are you, stupid? Anyone could have whipped up a simple dish like that.”
Jaejoong smirked at Joomin’s almost barbaric table etiquette. He couldn’t detect a single trace of leadership in the man, but instead saw a conceited moron who had just been given too much authority.
You won’t get any better than tonight, because you won’t live it out, fool.
“Here’s dessert,” said Jaejoong smoothly.
“But no one called for dessert -” Yunho had not the chance to continue.
“I don’t care,” Jaejoong stated blankly, hurling aside the dessert lid and seizing the dagger on the plate before letting that go as well. A loud crash sounded as the plate landed on the ground and in that very same second, Yunho found a dagger an approximate centimeter below his eye while a significantly larger one lingered at the neck of his boss. The silver of the blades sparkled under the chandelier’s shine, glistening in the men’s eyes.
“It’s only because this wouldn’t fit in my pockets,” he finished coolly, teasing Joomin with the blade of his dagger.
Before anyone could process the moment’s happenings, about half a dozen armed men emerged at the door; the apparent result of the alarm set off beneath Joomin’s desk. Jaejoong let out a small laugh - at Joomin’s cowardice - but frowned slightly when he caught sight of the windows, for he noticed a significantly darkened sky.
Outside, it was raining cats and dogs.
Joomin barked out a louder laugh, signaling his men to stop entering the room any further. “So who sent you? You’re clearly outnumbered, aren’t you boy? Or girl? With that pretty face you can pass off as one, I bet. Tell me who you are - I might have mercy and have something for you to do here, in Chambers,” he demanded, obviously wanting anything but food.
Jaejoong ignored Joomin’s threat, not even deliberating at the chance. He had no need for it. “I have twelve daggers - more than enough to kill all of you.”
Who wants to go first?
He gave Yunho a hard kick, sending him a distance away before reaching behind the custom-made tablier. Fishing out five tiny daggers, the killer loaded them onto his hand before hurling the blades at the rookies charging at him. Three penetrated one of the men, causing blood to splatter everywhere. The other two struck another, painting the beige curtains and matching carpets a disgusting crimson red.
Objective - kill the leader. Damn it, I need to stop getting distracted.
“Stop trying to hit him! Get your guns out, you fools!” Yunho roared, authority lacing his anger. Jaejoong resisted a laugh; Yunho had proved him wrong by showing he had a functioning brain.
In a fraction of a second he eluded the shots Yunho aimed at him, swift, like the professional he already was. Giving the room a quick scan, Jaejoong quickly noticed that not everyone were armed and concentrated on taking down those that were.
Dodging showers of bullets, the killer fought to keep his position near Joomin, effectively preventing him from escaping.
“Damn it, Yunho, do something!” Joomin’s face whitened like a sheet of paper, his fear driving him to hysteria as he realized his men were losing.
Jaejoong looked around him for an opportunity to finish Joomin. He wouldn’t be able to keep up with this, not when more and more men were joining the fight. The killer looked around the room for an alternative. Some lay around him in pools of their own blood, injured or dying with their weapons strewn everywhere. He spotted a potential revolver, and was pleased when a plan quickly formed within his mind.
Whilst still hurling his little daggers at the remaining men, he bent down to pick up the gun conveniently left beside him. But before he even got back up, Jaejoong felt the wind being knocked out of him as Yunho’s body made contact with his own.
“I can’t shoot him! He is too close to Yunho hyung!”
“Shit!”
“I don’t have a clear aim either!”
Joomin took the opportunity - possibly his only - to scoot off, not giving a hoot if his men were dead or alive. Reacting fast, Jaejoong socked Yunho in the gut and pushed his body off from his own. From where he lay on the ground, Jaejoong immediately reached his arms out to shoot Joomin in the legs. He couldn’t afford to let him get away at this point of time.
Aiming at the chandeliers overhead, Jaejoong cast a gloomy shadow over the room instantly with the last of his bullets. Low curses could be heard from around the room as the men panicked, not being able to see in the precarious darkness or know who or where to shoot, while also afraid of being shot at as well.
At last, Joomin felt someone grab him from behind and the next thing he registered was a familiar blade cutting at his throat. He could neither move nor see; Joomin was as good as dead.
“Wait! I can…I can give you anything… you want. The top… position at Chambers, money, whatever…you want…Don’t kill me!” Joomin begged softly, gurgling and choking from the blood in his throat.
Death scares you, huh? How pathetic. Yunho, do you see what kind of leader you have?
A few random gunshots, failed attempts to get at Jaejoong, could be heard in the deadly silence. “Stop! Any of your bullets may just hit the boss!” Yunho hollered at his men. Jaejoong paused, surprised by Yunho’s loyalty to Joomin.
Too bad, Yunho, even if you still wish to protect a scumbag like him, you can’t save him. Not from me.
“You’re mine, nothing can save you now,” Jaejoong whispered into Joomin’s ear, smiling. Just as he gave the finishing blow once and for all, an ear-piercing clap of thunder boomed.
The horrible noise cut through the atmosphere like blade through butter, clutching Jaejoong’s heart.
Amongst all the emotions that were flowing in him, Yunho was also appalled. He had never once missed a target and yet this chef, this “Jaejoong” managed to dodge four at once. It made his gift seem all too juvenile. He stood in the darkness, gun in hand, staring at the path Jaejoong had run in before the chandeliers were destroyed.
Just as the thunder sounded, Yunho caught a flash of metal in the black space he had been staring at.
Is that an earring? Did he just turn his head around?
Quickly, he set his gun near where he remembered seeing the shiny flicker and fired, hoping that he would not miss Jaejoong for the fifth time.
He did not.
Yunho knew the bullet hit someone, because there was a very soft gasp shortly after. Without further hesitation, he fired a second shot; the muted bang breaking through the silence once again.
It brought out another fresh scent of rust that he knew was blood, Jaejoong’s blood, because Joomin would have already been dead.
Jaejoong felt the second bullet strike him near the stomach.
His heart was beating so hard he could hear almost hear the steady rhythm pounding in his head. The noise resembled a hammer driving a nail into his skull, drilling back in the memories of his past, a painful reminiscence he wanted to forget more than anything.
He could hear his sisters’ screams... he could recall the view of his old home from underneath the table.
On the brink of delirium, Jaejoong forced his mind back to reality. It brought him to realize that his life was hanging loose by a thread. A few seconds had him successfully compose himself and revert back into the killer, where darkness posed no difficulty for him.
He already knew where everyone was. From their hushed whispers, from them shifting their weight from one foot to the other… from every breath they drew, Jaejoong could identify the henchmen’s positions.
More importantly, he knew where Yunho was: crouching by the corner of the room, trying to detect his movements. In a fit of anger, Jaejoong pivoted around and sent his last dagger flying towards Yunho, wounding him precisely in the abdomen.
Initially, he had had no intention of hurting the other, but things were different now.
That’s for shooting me twice.
However, a second cackle of thunder had the killer in Jaejoong completely disappear. Crouched into a ball, he covered his ears in attempt to block off the monstrous thunder song as tears began to form in his eye sockets. His mind was caught in a whirl; his past was clawing at his back, chasing…taunting him.
I have to get out of here. Before I go crazy. Wait, I am crazy.
As fast as he could manage, Jaejoong steadied himself, shaking off the last cobwebs of his dreadful past. Blood was draining out of him at an incredible rate and he knew very well that all of it would be bled out in minutes.
Making a wobbly dash for the nearest window, Jaejoong leaped out of the opening and disappeared into the night.
The ultimate killer he is, but what is it that haunts him so?
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The Killer's Nightmare; Chapter 1
Jaejoong sat alone in his expensive hotel suite, three shots of cognac resting on the marble counter in front of him. The bartender over the phone had advised against taking the cognac in shots, but Jaejoong wasn’t in a sipping mood. Besides, he’d bought the entire bottle; he should decide how he should have the liquor after spending a neat $10,000 on it alone.
He looked at his watch, feeling a little stupid for watching his alcohol “breathe”. Ten minutes should be enough, he thought, deciding against the rattling bartender’s nagging.
Jaejoong picked up the center glass and tipped his head backwards very slightly. Closing his eyes, he downed the shot. His nose burned from the spirits but his head buzzed with satisfaction. A plethora of flavors spread itself out on his tongue and Jaejoong immediately regretted taking the shot. He found himself indeed ignorant of tasting cognac, now fully aware that the cognac had been wasted down his oesophagus.
Sipping would definitely have been more apt.
There was much time on his hands, since the organization rarely sent him on runs; the rest of them were deft enough to handle the everyday requests.
A distant beep rang through the suite, soft, yet still catching his ears.
One, Hero: R155. Seoul, South Korea. Jung Joomin, kkangpae Chambers - 1 week.
The second glass had him already tipsy, the alcohol gradually seeping into his system, numbing it all and leaving him with buzzing warmth. It caught him by surprise - Jaejoong was never one to get drunk; he always had a good alcohol tolerance.
Slowly ambling towards the large four-poster bed, he dove into the comfortable duvets, leaving the third glass untouched. He had had enough. There, as he drifted in and out of slumber, he lay await for sunrise and his eventual flight back to Korea.
France had been beautiful.
“Get me a new chef now. Give Wang two months’ pay and tell him to go to hell. Better yet, get that stick out of his fat ass!” Joomin barked. Fireworks of saliva exploded from his mouth as he spoke.
“Is there a reason for that, boss? Because he’s already the seventh chef dismissed…” Yunho asked carefully, though not at all surprised.
“I want a new chef and I want him now, just get the damned job done!” Joomin scowled irritably at his nephew, unhappy at his questioning. A gang leader wouldn’t be a gang leader if his subordinates didn’t follow his instructions, right? He shooed Yunho away.
“Yes sir, right away.”
Apologetically, Yunho dismissed the much angered chef Wang, a fifty-something plumpish egoist who’d been working in Chambers for barely four days. A new task appeared before him. He had to hire a new chef before Joomin’s stipulated dinnertime, which was coming in an approximate hour.
Yunho cursed, irritated that he had to do such dirty work. Joomin never acted like the leader he should be, but instead took over Chambers as a tyrant, often giving unnecessary trouble to his subordinates. He didn’t even go easy on Yunho. In fact, Joomin frequently picked on the other to embarrass him, to test out his limits - anything to downgrade Yunho’s status in the gang.
Where the hell is Seonghyo? He should be doing this, not me.
Yunho pressed a speed dial and waited for the other end to pick up, impatience growing with each ring.
Finally, the old man answered and their conversation left Yunho feeling satisfied but odd, because the other side seemed to be in too much of a hurry, his voice trembling and constrained.
He’d made the necessary arrangements - another supposedly world renowned chef was on his way - Yunho only wished he would be anywhere near satisfactory for the impossible Joomin.
“I heard it’s because he refused to cook congee!”
“I do not wish to cook some low class porridge!” one of the workers had mimicked.
Yunho grinned, amused by the various dialogues he had overheard in the kitchens during his idle stroll. The entire situation was very silly, not to mention beyond childish. Apparently Wang refused to stoop below his status to cook a bowl of congee that Joomin had requested and therefore got himself fired.
He lifted his wrist to glance at the TAG Heuer as he waited, frowning at the clock face. Ridiculous as he was, Yunho was still compelled to satisfy Joomin. He tapped his fingers against his car, seconds later spotting an Audi turning into the estate.
Chefs don’t drive sports cars, do they?
Alert, Yunho went forward to meet the visitor.
“My name is Kim Jaejoong, the new chef,” the man spoke before words could even reach Yunho’s mouth.
This is…the chef? Should I be concerned?
“You don’t look like a chef,” Yunho commented, surveying his new employee. He was expecting an old, greasy face in the standardized white chef uniform with the big hat. Not this one that was fair and impeccable. Kim Jaejoong’s outfit consisted of only a pair of skinny jeans, boots and a casual shirt. Not at all chef-like.
“You don’t look like a member of a gang like Chambers,” he replied swiftly as he contemplated the building that loomed ahead.
Yunho grinned, thinking they would get along in the future. Jaejoong was perhaps about his age, maybe a little older.
“Do you really cook, though?”
“Even if I can’t, you’ve already hired me, haven’t you? You can be extra careful and check for poisons if you like,” he snapped, eyebrows hitched in irritation.
Surprised, Yunho furrowed his brows, lost for words.
“Just… whatever,” Jaejoong kept his eyes averted.
Yunho closed his mouth. Maybe they weren’t going to be friends after all.
“I’ll take you to the kitchen. You’ve got -” Yunho looked at his watch again, “Less than an hour to prepare some congee for the boss.”
The chef nodded, unbothered by the urgency.
“I’m Yunho, by the way.”
Chef Jaejoong was getting more and more agitated by the minute. Time was running out for him, as the week was coming to an end and he had yet to take down his target, Jung Joomin. All because the nasty man had not been sacking his chefs for a while, then his “employer” would not consent to let Yunho hire him until Jaejoong threatened to slit his throat.
For the worst part, the weather was not looking good.
Abalone and scallions sliced, boiled chicken shredded, garlic diced, Jaejoong was left with the century eggs. He took the eggs one by one, slicing them ever so thinly and carefully. It was crucial to slice them as thin as possible, because Jaejoong knew himself that large chunks of these eggs especially, tasted revolting.
“Jaejoong!” an urgent, low voice spoke from somewhere behind him.
“Shit!” He hissed in frustration, dropping the knife in his hands. Blood started to trickle from beneath his fingernail, where the knife had sliced the flesh instead of the egg.
“Are you alright? Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” said Yunho with genuine concern as he leant over Jaejoong’s form to peer at his finger. Jaejoong ignored him, and sucked on his injured finger before spitting the blood out seconds later.
Scratching the side of his head, Yunho looked at him guiltily and said, “I was just trying to remind you that you’ve got only six minutes left. That’s all. Sorry about that.”
“I’m almost done, anyway. Just hold the egg and I’ll slice it with my right hand,” he ordered.
Kim Jaejoong, Chamber’s new chef, returned to the main office, where the obese head of Chambers sat wolfing down the congee he’d just prepared. He held a covered dish western-style, his injured finger bandaged and covered with a glove. Despite clear reluctance from Jaejoong, Yunho - citing issues in his conscience - just had to make sure it was well taken care of.
However, no one seemed to notice little shapes protruding from behind his white tablier.
“How’s the congee, sir?” asked Jaejoong politely, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Joomin took his time to reply the enquiry, for his hands never left the spoon that kept ferrying mouthfuls of porridge from the bowl to his mouth. When he did, he brushed Jaejoong off, saying, “What are you, stupid? Anyone could have whipped up a simple dish like that.”
Jaejoong smirked at Joomin’s almost barbaric table etiquette. He couldn’t detect a single trace of leadership in the man, but instead saw a conceited moron who had just been given too much authority.
You won’t get any better than tonight, because you won’t live it out, fool.
“Here’s dessert,” said Jaejoong smoothly.
“But no one called for dessert -” Yunho had not the chance to continue.
“I don’t care,” Jaejoong stated blankly, hurling aside the dessert lid and seizing the dagger on the plate before letting that go as well. A loud crash sounded as the plate landed on the ground and in that very same second, Yunho found a dagger an approximate centimeter below his eye while a significantly larger one lingered at the neck of his boss. The silver of the blades sparkled under the chandelier’s shine, glistening in the men’s eyes.
“It’s only because this wouldn’t fit in my pockets,” he finished coolly, teasing Joomin with the blade of his dagger.
Before anyone could process the moment’s happenings, about half a dozen armed men emerged at the door; the apparent result of the alarm set off beneath Joomin’s desk. Jaejoong let out a small laugh - at Joomin’s cowardice - but frowned slightly when he caught sight of the windows, for he noticed a significantly darkened sky.
Outside, it was raining cats and dogs.
Joomin barked out a louder laugh, signaling his men to stop entering the room any further. “So who sent you? You’re clearly outnumbered, aren’t you boy? Or girl? With that pretty face you can pass off as one, I bet. Tell me who you are - I might have mercy and have something for you to do here, in Chambers,” he demanded, obviously wanting anything but food.
Jaejoong ignored Joomin’s threat, not even deliberating at the chance. He had no need for it. “I have twelve daggers - more than enough to kill all of you.”
Who wants to go first?
He gave Yunho a hard kick, sending him a distance away before reaching behind the custom-made tablier. Fishing out five tiny daggers, the killer loaded them onto his hand before hurling the blades at the rookies charging at him. Three penetrated one of the men, causing blood to splatter everywhere. The other two struck another, painting the beige curtains and matching carpets a disgusting crimson red.
Objective - kill the leader. Damn it, I need to stop getting distracted.
“Stop trying to hit him! Get your guns out, you fools!” Yunho roared, authority lacing his anger. Jaejoong resisted a laugh; Yunho had proved him wrong by showing he had a functioning brain.
In a fraction of a second he eluded the shots Yunho aimed at him, swift, like the professional he already was. Giving the room a quick scan, Jaejoong quickly noticed that not everyone were armed and concentrated on taking down those that were.
Dodging showers of bullets, the killer fought to keep his position near Joomin, effectively preventing him from escaping.
“Damn it, Yunho, do something!” Joomin’s face whitened like a sheet of paper, his fear driving him to hysteria as he realized his men were losing.
Jaejoong looked around him for an opportunity to finish Joomin. He wouldn’t be able to keep up with this, not when more and more men were joining the fight. The killer looked around the room for an alternative. Some lay around him in pools of their own blood, injured or dying with their weapons strewn everywhere. He spotted a potential revolver, and was pleased when a plan quickly formed within his mind.
Whilst still hurling his little daggers at the remaining men, he bent down to pick up the gun conveniently left beside him. But before he even got back up, Jaejoong felt the wind being knocked out of him as Yunho’s body made contact with his own.
“I can’t shoot him! He is too close to Yunho hyung!”
“Shit!”
“I don’t have a clear aim either!”
Joomin took the opportunity - possibly his only - to scoot off, not giving a hoot if his men were dead or alive. Reacting fast, Jaejoong socked Yunho in the gut and pushed his body off from his own. From where he lay on the ground, Jaejoong immediately reached his arms out to shoot Joomin in the legs. He couldn’t afford to let him get away at this point of time.
Aiming at the chandeliers overhead, Jaejoong cast a gloomy shadow over the room instantly with the last of his bullets. Low curses could be heard from around the room as the men panicked, not being able to see in the precarious darkness or know who or where to shoot, while also afraid of being shot at as well.
At last, Joomin felt someone grab him from behind and the next thing he registered was a familiar blade cutting at his throat. He could neither move nor see; Joomin was as good as dead.
“Wait! I can…I can give you anything… you want. The top… position at Chambers, money, whatever…you want…Don’t kill me!” Joomin begged softly, gurgling and choking from the blood in his throat.
Death scares you, huh? How pathetic. Yunho, do you see what kind of leader you have?
A few random gunshots, failed attempts to get at Jaejoong, could be heard in the deadly silence. “Stop! Any of your bullets may just hit the boss!” Yunho hollered at his men. Jaejoong paused, surprised by Yunho’s loyalty to Joomin.
Too bad, Yunho, even if you still wish to protect a scumbag like him, you can’t save him. Not from me.
“You’re mine, nothing can save you now,” Jaejoong whispered into Joomin’s ear, smiling. Just as he gave the finishing blow once and for all, an ear-piercing clap of thunder boomed.
The horrible noise cut through the atmosphere like blade through butter, clutching Jaejoong’s heart.
Amongst all the emotions that were flowing in him, Yunho was also appalled. He had never once missed a target and yet this chef, this “Jaejoong” managed to dodge four at once. It made his gift seem all too juvenile. He stood in the darkness, gun in hand, staring at the path Jaejoong had run in before the chandeliers were destroyed.
Just as the thunder sounded, Yunho caught a flash of metal in the black space he had been staring at.
Is that an earring? Did he just turn his head around?
Quickly, he set his gun near where he remembered seeing the shiny flicker and fired, hoping that he would not miss Jaejoong for the fifth time.
He did not.
Yunho knew the bullet hit someone, because there was a very soft gasp shortly after. Without further hesitation, he fired a second shot; the muted bang breaking through the silence once again.
It brought out another fresh scent of rust that he knew was blood, Jaejoong’s blood, because Joomin would have already been dead.
Jaejoong felt the second bullet strike him near the stomach.
His heart was beating so hard he could hear almost hear the steady rhythm pounding in his head. The noise resembled a hammer driving a nail into his skull, drilling back in the memories of his past, a painful reminiscence he wanted to forget more than anything.
He could hear his sisters’ screams... he could recall the view of his old home from underneath the table.
On the brink of delirium, Jaejoong forced his mind back to reality. It brought him to realize that his life was hanging loose by a thread. A few seconds had him successfully compose himself and revert back into the killer, where darkness posed no difficulty for him.
He already knew where everyone was. From their hushed whispers, from them shifting their weight from one foot to the other… from every breath they drew, Jaejoong could identify the henchmen’s positions.
More importantly, he knew where Yunho was: crouching by the corner of the room, trying to detect his movements. In a fit of anger, Jaejoong pivoted around and sent his last dagger flying towards Yunho, wounding him precisely in the abdomen.
Initially, he had had no intention of hurting the other, but things were different now.
That’s for shooting me twice.
However, a second cackle of thunder had the killer in Jaejoong completely disappear. Crouched into a ball, he covered his ears in attempt to block off the monstrous thunder song as tears began to form in his eye sockets. His mind was caught in a whirl; his past was clawing at his back, chasing…taunting him.
I have to get out of here. Before I go crazy. Wait, I am crazy.
As fast as he could manage, Jaejoong steadied himself, shaking off the last cobwebs of his dreadful past. Blood was draining out of him at an incredible rate and he knew very well that all of it would be bled out in minutes.
Making a wobbly dash for the nearest window, Jaejoong leaped out of the opening and disappeared into the night.