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Kim Namjoon, first member and leader of KPop boy band Bangtan Sonyeondan, took it upon himself to go the extra mile for his bandmates as often as humanly possible. Tonight, he was stuck in his studio late after promising the group he would go through some of their work and polish it up.
He felt as the band's leader, it was the least he could do. Exhaustion wasn't an option for him. Or not showing it, at least. The members had asked him to do this as they were a bit worried about the songs they were currently working on, and he wanted to help alleviate some of their stress. Yoongi and Jin had offered to stay late at the studio with him, but he didn't see the need. He felt he could get more work accomplished on his own anyway.
Getting work done would have proved a lot easier if it weren't for the fact that the power to the entire building suddenly cut out.
"What the hell?" Namjoon spoke out loud to himself. He wondered if it was a circuit issue within his private studio, located on one of the top floors of the company's building. With a deep sigh, he grabbed his phone and turned on the flashlight as he made his way to the door. Opening it and seeing that the entire hallway was pitch black as well, he realized it was not just his studio that had lost power.
It's the entire fucking building. Aish.
He stumbled his way back to his studio chair and decided to try and wait it out. Hoping the power would return within a few minutes. When it was evident that the power wasn't coming back anytime soon, he decided it was pointless to stay there. He tried calling his members to let them know he was ready to come be picked up, but his cell service wasn't working either.
He smacked the back of his phone a few times in a surge of frustration, annoyed at the darkness surrounding him and the fact that he couldn't get through to his members. To add to this string of unfortunate events, before he could try again to reach the others his phone completely died. With no power left in the building, there was no hope of him being able to charge it either.
"Motherfucker," he whispered under his breath. He placed his elbows on his desk and held his head in his hands as he let out a deep sigh. He knew at this point the only option was to leave the building and either find the nearest phone or simply walk home.
That's when the next rage filling thought hit him. The elevators won't work. I will have to find my way down countless stairs in the dark. I can't even yell for help because I am the last one in the building.
He went to drop his head in defeat and miscalculated how close his desk actually was, so he ended up slamming his face into the hard wooden surface. It took everything in his soul not to let tears escape his eyes. The term 'pissed off' was a bit of an understatement for him at the moment. He didn't know how the hell he was supposed to descend hundreds of stairs in pitch darkness without actually falling and breaking his neck. I might as well just throw myself over the rails and get it over with.
After taking a few moments to calm his nerves, he figured it was as good a time as any to get going. He stumbled his way back to his studio door and once he made it to the hallway he had to put his hands on the wall to even remotely feel for where he was going.
The place was eerie, and something else suddenly caught his attention while he was in the hallway. Usually even when the power was out, exit lights and emergency lights would still be on to at least cast some small shadows and a bit of light.
Yet right now, there was absolutely nothing. Even all of the emergency and exit lights were off. It was extremely disorienting, and even though Namjoon knew he was in a very familiar building, tension arose in his heart.
This was too odd, and too damn freaky.
He couldn't tell if it was paranoia or not, but he could have sworn that as he inched his way down the halls, hands staying firm on the walls as he tried to find the door to the stairs, he kept hearing whispers in the dark.
"Hello?" He whispered back and stood still. He listened closely only to be met with a sickening kind of silence, only the kind that would be found in a deep dark void of nothing. The power outage created what felt like a different dimension. One that Namjoon had absolutely no desire to be in.
He figured it had to be him imagining things. He could have sworn he kept hearing whispers coming through the darkness and kept pausing, but had to remind himself that he was the only person in the entire building. He knew his own fear was getting the best of him and he was imagining things. He felt his heart begin to race as a sense of urgency set in. I really need to get the fuck out of this building.
He didn't know how much further he had to go before reaching the stairs, but once he felt the cold, metal elevator doors beneath his shaking fingertips he knew he had to be close.
Except something was wrong.
It wasn't whispers he was hearing anymore.
It had now changed to footsteps.
He clenched his eyes shut, not that that made any difference, and took a deep breath as he attempted to calm his nerves. It's all in your imagination. Nobody else is here. It's just the darkness getting to you.
As he stood there trying to collect himself, a loud buzzing noise echoed through the halls a split second before all of the emergency lights flickered back on. "What is-" Namjoon began to speak to himself out loud, but went silent when he caught a glimpse of something from the corner of his eye.
As he slowly turned his head towards the small light being emitted from a little overheard sign that read "Stairs," he was met with a figure standing below it. The light was dim and casted shadows on the figure so it was hard for Namjoon to make sense of who it was. However, whoever it was stood almost seven feet tall, at the least. Namjoon felt like he had seen someone of this build before but he couldn't figure out or place his mind on who it had been that he'd met. He just felt like he had met someone in his life who was this tall before.
"H-hello?" Namjoon asked, hesitation in his voice. He stood there still as a brick, unsure of what to do or say.
The figure stepped forward and was now lit up by the small lighting.
"N-no-no-" Namjoon instantly felt his heart pound a million miles a minute in his chest as beads of sweat formed on his head and began dripping down to his cheeks.
The seven foot figure stood there. Dressed in nothing but all black. They had a pig mask on that was drenched in both dried and dripping blood. In their right hand they held an axe that was currently tilted downward, with crimson red blood dripping from the tip down onto the floor.
Namjoon knew of this image. Although not personally.
The profile of this man fit one of someone who was part of an old legend. The legend of a serial killer that society had named the 'slaughtering squealer.' Although the members had always found the name kind of funny, nothing about this serial killer's antics was in any way a laughing matter. The legend went that a man dressed in a pigs mask would chop up his victims with his axe and then cut off their limbs, slicing their skin off in order to make dolls out of them.
There had, over the years, been victims found whose bodies had been dismantled in this very fashion, but the man was supposed to be a myth. Society always thought these bodies were the work of a copycat, or it was coincidental.
Namjoon didn't want to stick around to find out. "What the fuck! What the fuck!" He screamed when he was finally able to find his voice through his panic. He didn't know what to do, as the person in this costume was blocking the stairs. Is it a prank?! It's just a prank, right?!
The figure began quickly approaching him, sending Namjoon on a full sprint through the darkened halls in order to escape. "Who the fuck are you?!" He screamed behind him. Part of him wanted to believe this was some kind of Halloween prank, considering it was October and Halloween was merely a few weeks away. However, the story of the slaughtering squealer was so sensitive that nobody ever dared using it as a Halloween costume.
Because it was in fact illegal for anyone to do so.
"No no no no, it can't be-there's no-there's-nobody is allowed to-" Namjoon was hyperventilating as he was sprinting and trying to make sense of the situation. Was this the person who he could have sworn he heard whispering? Was this the person whose footsteps he heard?
He kept turning his head to see the person walking towards him with the axe raised in the air.
"Whoever you are, fuck off!" He screamed multiple times. He knew this wasn't a prank anymore when the person took the axe and slammed it into one of the hallway walls, completely destroying it. Blood from the axe now splattered across the drywall.
"Please-" Namjoon cried. "I-I-who are you?! What do you want?!" He continued to sprint, but was having a hard time finding his way through the darkness. He wasn't even sure what to do or where to go. Fear was clouding any reasonable judgment. He knew he needed to somehow make it back around to the stairs, but with this person after him, all he could do right now was hide. He dove back into his studio and locked the door. Thrown back into pitch darkness, he got on the floor and crawled his way across the room and nestled himself behind the couch in his studio. He could hear footsteps right outside his door, so he covered his mouth with his hand and tried to muffle the sounds of his panicked breaths. His nostrils flared as he tried to soften his breathing in order to be quieter. When the footsteps stopped, it was so silent again he could swear he heard his own heart racing in his chest, and it terrified him that the intruder might also hear the beating of his heart too.
Namjoon didn't know whether to feel scared or relieved by the silence, but the contemplation didn't last long when an axe came through his studio door, shattering the glass and throwing pieces across the room. The clinking of the falling shards sounded like rain crashing on pavement.
With a shriek of terror, Namjoon's flight sense immediately kicked in again as he jumped to his feet. He did not give a single shit if he couldn't see, the only thing that mattered right now was getting the hell out of this building. Having a dead phone surely wasn't helping his situation either. He stood in place for a moment, making out the outline of the person who was wielding an axe. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness and it was getting easier for him to make out shadows. With the door open, the emergency lights from the hall also made it a bit easier to see.
"Fuck off!" Namjoon screamed, grabbing whatever was near him and throwing it at this person who he deemed was clearly some kind of sadistic fuck. He wondered who the hell they were and how the hell they got in the building. He knew they must have had something to do with the power, which also meant the person was familiar with the building.
He didn't have too much time to think about it as he dodged a blow from the axe, causing the blade of it to slam against the floor. Namjoon was able to make his way past the intruder and make a break for the stairs.
He wasn't fast enough.
It's as if the person after him had otherworldly speed and reflexes, and soon they had grabbed him by the back of his shirt.
"No! Get off! Get the hell off me! Let go! Let go!"
Namjoon's body was slammed backwards against the floor, his head bounced off the ground and sent white spots floating across his vision.
They're really trying to kill me. They're really a killer. This person is really a goddamn killer.
Not even a split second later, the killer was sitting on Namjoon's chest with their fingers wrapped around the rapper's throat. Namjoon could feel the life being crushed right out of him.
"S-s-to-op-" he choked out. He could feel the tears stinging his eyes before they sprinkled their way down his burning cheeks. He grabbed and clawed at the hands wrapped around his windpipe, trying to pinch and cause any type of pain so the person would let go. What he would do to get even a single deep breath in.
"P-le-a-s-e-"
More white spots filled his vision, mixed with the dimness. He could see the light to the stairs just right off in the distance. All he had to do was make it down, and he could run out of the building.
All he had to do was fight hard enough and be able to stand up, and run.
I'll be damned if I die here like this. This isn't how it's supposed to be. This isn't how it will end for me.
He was being choked and crushed so intensely that he felt blood begin to rush out of his nose. It began running down his cheeks, neck, and all over the floor.
He tried to think of a way out of this but there was nothing around for him to grab. So he did all he could think of. He could tell by the rough hands scraping at his skin that whoever this person was, was of the male gender. So Namjoon curled up his leg, took his knee, and was able to jam it right between the killer's legs. This sent the man falling over to his side for a brief moment, but that was all Namjoon needed.
Just a brief moment.
In the blink of an eye Namjoon shot to his feet. The killer reached his hand out and grabbed Namjoon's ankle, sending the boy falling forward and slamming his face into the floor. If Namjoon thought his nose was gushing blood before, it was even worse now. He could also feel trickles of blood flowing from his forehead and spilling into his eyes.
"Get the fuck off me!" Namjoon screamed as he took his leg and began shaking and kicking it. He slipped out of the man's grip and was able to regain his footing and continue to run. He ignored the pain as adrenaline coursing through his veins kept all injuries almost numb while he escaped. He made it past the door, grabbed the stair rail, and knew he had to be faster than the speed of lightning itself if he was going to make it down the stairs and out the door before he was caught again.
He couldn't see shit, so he blindly made his way the best he could.
Tripping, stumbling, falling and rolling down multiple steps. He didn't care if he got to the bottom with every single one of his bones broken. Those would heal.
A dead body, however, would not.
And he refused to let that be him.
Another dead body. Another chopped up victim. Another statistic.
He could hear the man running after him. He could hear the tip of the axe being dragged along the walls as they both descended the stairs. Namjoon didn't understand how this person was getting around so easily in mere darkness.
Namjoon had finally made it to the bottom floor and he threw himself through the door into the main lobby. The windows and doors on the first floor were all made of glass, so he could finally see now that the light from the moon and lights of the city outside were seeping in.
He made a beeline for the front door. As he grabbed the handles and pushed forward, it hit him.
The doors were locked and he did not have a key.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He could hear the footsteps behind him rapidly descending the stairs that he'd just escaped from. He knew it was now or never. He frantically searched the lobby for anything that would be useful when he spotted some big, metal chairs. He quickly ran over, grabbed one, and smashed it up against the glass doors.
A small crack formed, but it didn't shatter.
"Come on, come on." Namjoon tried to encourage himself, telling himself he could do this. He could escape. He took the chair and started smashing it against the corners of the glass door, causing more cracks in the glass to form. He began screaming for help, hoping someone in the outside world could hear him. He didn't know how long he'd been trapped in this nightmare, but he knew it had to be within the very early morning hours at this point. Possibly one or two in the morning.
"Help!" He screamed as he repeatedly smashed the metal chair into the door with desperation. He turned when he heard the man approach the lobby and start running after him.
"No! Help! Someone help! Please!" Namjoon continued to hit the glass door, each hit created more cracks but it was taking forever for the door to completely shatter so he could get through it.
The man reached him, taking his axe and swinging.
The sharp edge sliced through the sleeve of Namjoon's shirt as he barely dodged it. He stumbled backwards and fell to the floor again. The man wielded the axe in the air and aimed for Namjoon again, but the boy was able to roll and dodge it again. With quick thinking, he instantly had a plan. Get in front of the glass door and let him swing the axe. Make damn sure it misses me.
It might be my only chance.
He hurried back to his feet and made his way back to the front glass doors. He turned and faced the man trying to kill him. He stared at the bloody pigs mask with fierce eyes, in a desperate attempt at his own intimidation.
"Go ahead. Go ahead and swing it. Fucking coward. Let's see you try to kill me." Namjoon's heart was beating out of his chest. Sweat poured off of him as he knew he had to get the timing of this completely right. He wiped at the blood, sweat, and tears drenching his face.
"Go ahead and fucking do it. Now."
The man walked towards him, raised the axe, and swung.
In a split second, Namjoon ducked and moved, being missed by the axe. However, as the axe flew forward, its blade met the glass door.
Completely shattering it.
Namjoon came up from behind and shoved the man out of his way, sprinting through the opening of the door and out into the open Seoul air.
He knew the danger wasn't over. He turned to see the man with the axe still standing in the doorway. Namjoon was so desperate for help that he ran right out into the street screaming and crying for help. He jumped in front of a car, moving out of the way while the driver slammed on the breaks and came to a halt.
"Help! Help me please! He's coming! He's after me! Please call the police. You have to call the police!" Namjoon screamed and begged to the driver through their window. The driver got out in the middle of the street and attempted to calm the boy down. "He's going to kill me. Please call the police. He's trying to kill me."
Namjoon looked back and no longer saw the monster in the doorway. He had no idea where he went. Which only terrified him further.
More people got out of their vehicles and surrounded Namjoon. A young woman was screaming that the poor boy was in shock and did her best to call him down. Multiple people were calling the authorities on his behalf.
Everything continued to feel like a distant dream to him. Nothing felt real as he was hauled away to the hospital in an ambulance. He remembered trying to ramble on and on to the cops about everything that had happened and what the man was wearing, but he couldn't quite remember what he'd said.
By the time he was at the hospital, he was still panicking. While getting stitched and cleaned up he kept screaming over and over that he wanted his brothers. "You have to call them. You have to warn them. They could be next! Someone please call my brothers! I need them here! I need them safe!"
He was given sedatives and the nurses promised that they would call the brothers he was referring to. Within about half an hour, the other six of his members had rushed into the hospital and straight into his room. He was much calmer now, having been medicated and cleaned up. He now had bandages covering the stitches that painted his forehead.
He was unaware at the time, but when he had fallen down the stairs multiple times he had ended up fracturing his ankle and three of his ribs.
The pain of that would present itself later.
He reached his arms out for them as they ran to him in endless tears. They hugged him and kissed his face all over. He tried to tell them as quickly as possible everything that happened and none of them could believe it.
"My poor hyungie!" Jungkook cried. All of them offered reassurance that he was going to be safe now and they'd never let anyone hurt him ever again.
"They-they haven't found him. He's still out there," Namjoon informed. Dread settled in everyone's hearts.
The nightmare wasn't over.
Police promised full scale protection until the man was found. Emergency alerts went out all over the city that a killer was on the loose and the entirety of Seoul was placed under lockdown. Nobody was allowed out of their houses and all businesses had to lock up and shut down until this killer was found.
He was found sooner than expected. Hiding inside a hole within a cement wall in the basement of the band's company building.
The news spread like wildfire and the man was immediately identified as soon as the police had ripped the pig mask off.
Namjoon would soon find out why the stature of the man after him seemed so damn familiar at first. It was because he knew him.
They all knew him. He was the company's janitor.
They never saw much of the janitor, as he always kept to himself and was always sort of lurking in the shadows, but it was him, nonetheless.
----
It had now been a month since the incident and so much information had come out.
The janitor was immediately sentenced to the death penalty because it was revealed upon investigation that he was in fact, and always had been, the 'slaughtering squealer.' It was him who had been murdering people for countless years. Chopping up their bodies with his axe.
He was the man behind the legend.
It had all been real and Namjoon was his next victim. He would never know why.
Once the members learned of this, their hearts were heavy knowing someone right in their building had been a serial killer. After this incident a ton of new security measures were put in place for both the company and for the members themselves.
Namjoon was also in intensive therapy, because he constantly had nightmares and extreme paranoia. He was on medication for help with the pain of his stitches, just now healing from a concussion, and also on some anxiety meds.
The members did their best to take care of him, but it wasn't easy. Their leader was scared and always would be. While time passed he did get better, however. His nightmares subsided and his pain was slowly healing. Knowing he had people around who loved him and cared about him so much really aided in his healing.
Closure came the day that the man was finally sentenced to death. Broadcasted live, he was executed by lethal injection.
The members didn't particularly care to watch. It was in their best interest to avoid seeing his face.
---
It had been six months now and Namjoon was well on his way to recovery. He was happy, playful, and more trusting than ever. It took him a while to leave the dorm, as for the first few months he'd been working from home. The company building had been cleaned up and he was finally in a good spot mentally to return to his studio. The members were thrilled to see him back on his feet and to have him fully immersed back into his work.
They took more time off when they knew Namjoon needed a bit of a mental break. It was a Friday afternoon and they'd chosen to go to the amusement park. The afternoon was filled with rides, food, and little prizes from the games they'd played. As the afternoon turned to night, Jin mentioned that it was getting late and it was time everyone got some rest.
Making their way back to the car, Namjoon couldn't help but feel like he was being watched. He looked around but there was nothing out of the ordinary. He knew it was his anxiety and paranoia getting the best of him again. As he sat in the back of the car he did deep breathing exercises that he'd learned from his therapist. The members noticed him doing this and instantly showed concern, offering him words of encouragement.
"I'm-I'm alright, really. I'll be alright," Namjoon informed.
Jimin reached over and held Namjoon's hand as an act of comfort. The leader looked out the window and tried to distract himself. He was just happy they were going home now, as he was definitely drained from the day.
As Jin was driving the car out of the parking lot, something behind a distant tree caught Namjoon's eye. He could have sworn he saw something poking out from behind that tree. He rubbed his eyes and blinked, trying to get his vision to focus better. As the tree got further in the distance, he saw a man come out from behind that tree.
A tall figure was staring straight at him. A figure wearing a bloody pigs mask and holding a blood soaked axe.
[The End]