I Told You, I'm A Monster

Chapter Thirteen

"Again, again!" Jungkook threw another rock, and then another, both hitting the balloon again. When he was about to throw another one, he heard a scream. "Hyung, there are people in there!"

"I know, Kookie. Listen to them scream. Isn't it beautiful? Just listen."

Jungkook didn't like this. He'd never expected for anything like this to happen. But, he closed his eyes and listened anyway. Their screams of anguish rang in his ears and reverberated through his body, right down to his cock, making him groan. "Get naked again and bend over, hyung," he whispered.

Jimin was hoping for this exact reaction from the younger, and he had his pants pulled down and was on his knees within the next few seconds. Jungkook spit on his now fully hard cock and rammed into Jimin, fucking him to the sounds of screaming and splashing. That was the first time Jungkook learned to associate sex with something so wrong that felt so right.

Jungkook is brought back to the present by a tap on his shoulder. He turns to see Hoseok timidly standing there. "Hello, um, Hoseok right?"

"Yes! Um, can I sit down?" Jungkook nods, and the older sits across from him with a smile. "Thank you. I love puzzles." He digs through the pile for a few edge pieces and puts them together. Jungkook looks at him curiously. Before he can ask him anything, though, Hoseok whispers, "I know what happened to Jimin."

Jungkook leans closer to him under the guise of reaching for more puzzle pieces. "Tell me, please." Hoseok nods and tells him everything, from the first stolen pocketknife, to the second one, to his dream, and finally, what he'd told the doctors and what happened as a result of it. "And I don't know how long he's going to be in solitary confinement. I am sorry." Jungkook is taken aback. 'So it's his fault.'

"I see. Thank you for telling me." That's all he says as he bends his head over the puzzle again, ignoring any other attempts Hoseok makes to talk to him. Dr. Song comes back to take him to his room so he can have a bit of quiet time before dinner. He's going to help the patient into his bed when he's stopped. "Doctor, can I please stay in my wheelchair? It's easier to look out the window that way. I like looking at the birds building their nest." He points so the doctor can see.

"Oh my, how lovely!" His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. "Of course, Jungkook. I'll be back shortly." Jungkook nods and thanks him before wheeling himself to sit in front of the window. When he hears the door close and lock, he immediately unfastens his pants and reaches his hand into them to wrap around his throbbing cock. He closes his eyes and strokes quickly, imagining Jimin's ass in place of his hand, and jacks off to images of choking Hoseok with his bare hands. When he's finished and has licked all of his cum from his hand, he watches the sparrows building their nest with a smile on his face. He's done unspeakable things to plenty of people, but he has a soft spot for animals. Jimin, on the other hand, has had to have Jungkook talk him out of hurting animals multiple times.

That's one reason why Jungkook loves him unconditionally: He does still have a heart, even though he has to be reminded of it constantly. Jungkook won't let anyone come between him and Jimin. Not Hoseok, not a handful of stupid doctors, not anyone. Jungkook will make damn sure of that. No matter what it takes.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It's been a few days since Namjoon first had "friendly" thoughts about Seokjin. They've been having their regular morning talks, but there's been a very slight shift in their demeanor around one another. Seokjin is more relaxed, and Namjoon doesn't think about choking him anymore. When Namjoon is alone, though, he tries to picture Seokjin in the same position as his countless female victims: on his back, staring weakly up at him with his throat slit. But each time he pictures it, the image turns into one of them on a bed with white sheets and blankets, candles lit, pink rose petals strewn everywhere, and Seokjin's neck perfectly intact.

And each time that happens, Namjoon's cock stirs, and he feels an unfamiliar pull in his chest. There's something that feels wrong about marking the beautiful doctor like that. He doesn't tell anyone about these thoughts, though. He can't. He won't. Especially since he's straight. He's always been into women.

Frustrated with himself and his thoughts, during his quiet hour, he lies in bed and closes his eyes so he can go back to daydreaming about his past exploits. He lazily jacks himself off as he flips through the different images in his mind to find the perfect one to help him along. Finally, he settles on the day he killed an American tourist. Her tits were huge, her hair was long and dyed black with electric blue highlights, and her eyes were wide and green and so innocent and pleading as she silently begged him not to hurt her, that she would do anything if he'd leave her alone. The way her tits bounced when he fucked her, God, he'd give just about anything to see and feel them again. Thinking about them and the act itself brings him to a quick orgasm that leaves him feeling momentarily satisfied.

He wipes his hand on a dirty t-shirt and tosses it in the corner, happy to leave it for the staff to pick up if it means he can get in an afternoon nap. As always after he jacks off, he immediately falls asleep, having learned by now to ignore the bright lights in his room. Forty-five minutes should give him a good enough nap without leaving him too tired.

As he sleeps, his dreams are filled with Seokjin. He dreams of the two of them sitting in a library and talking, and around them are books about all kinds of subjects, from literature to philosophy to history. Slowly, the books on the table around them change to file folders filled to bursting with paperwork. The images pop up off of the pages, and Namjoon recognizes them as crime scene photos containing the gory remains of his victims. Seokjin looks at him, disgust and horror on his face, before standing from the chair he's sitting in and fading into nothing.

Namjoon awakens with a start, covered in a sheen of sweat and breathing heavily. He's so disoriented that it takes him a few minutes to remember that he's in a mental hospital, not the library.

What the hell is happening to him?

There's a knock on the door before Dr. Zhang pokes his head in. "Namjoon, it's time for dinner."

"Okay, um, I need a minute." The doctor nods and closes the door, and Namjoon can see him standing outside the door as he rises from the bed and splashes water on his face using the pitcher that's always left on the desk and refilled every day. He puts on a clean shirt and the door is opened again, Dr. Zhang smiling kindly as he ushers Namjoon to the cafeteria. He scans the room and sees Hoseok sitting on the far side by himself, and there are a couple of patients he'd seen in passing but didn't care to remember their names. He sits by himself with his tray and picks at his food, only eating the fruit and a couple of bites of meat before he's escorted back to his room.

He keeps coming back to his dream, though, and the look on Seokjin's face. Namjoon doesn't want to make him look at him like that. But why the fuck does he care so much? He can't come to any conclusions on his own, so, begrudgingly, he comes to the only conclusion that he never wanted to come to. He has to confide in Seokjin. But, he has to find a way to do it that won't make him look like a pussy.