Enjoy the extra chapter guys~
Happy birthday donghyuck_domingo_

⚠️Warning⚠️
-graphic depictions of violence/gore

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Jaemin took long strides down the underground train platform, passing late night workers who were on their way home, some cleaners, and various pieces of rubbish that people hadn't bothered to bin.

It was extremely dark, almost pitch black had the filthy overhead lights not shed at least some semblance of brightness. The walls were sprayed with graffiti, nasty profanities everywhere along with vulgar pictures, threats from pathetic gangs who barely even held a torch to Jupiter, and unsightly cracks.

As Jaemin slowly reached the last exit, which was six, he noticed the way the door was grimy and disgusting, not experiencing a decent clean in at least ten years, if not more.

He then glanced at the new lock on it, the metal still dirty but clearly not as old. His finger traced the small keyhole, retracting quickly as a smirk spread across the young adult's face.

This was definitely it. After all, he had personally accidentally burned this exit down with a grenade about five years ago, courtesy of Yuta who had died with that weapon that day. His tongue graced over his lip as he pulled his sleeve over his hand and wiped away the grubby sign where only the 'S' was sort of visible.

The more he scratched off the caked-on dirt, the more apparent the word 'seven' came to be. The man he had mutilated a few days ago had told him that Jupiter's new headquarters were exit seven, and here it was. A mysterious room that had been forsaken and abandoned after the 'accident'.

Jaemin couldn't get in, obviously. But he was glad to know he had found the place and knew just where to come when it was time to put a bullet in Haechan's head, just like he had done for Mark.

In all honesty, he hadn't a clue why he did it. Maybe it was his anger towards the fact that Mark had a lover and paid less attention to him. Or the way his leadership skills were unparalleled, yet he himself was a soft touch. Hell, it could've been sheer rage and frustration that most teenagers and young adults felt towards the world.

He didn't know.
He didn't think about it, either.

"Excuse me?" A soft voice hummed from behind him. The blonde pursed his lips and found an inner calm before facing the stranger.

"Yes?"

"Why're you standing around this door?" The male enquired, hands on his slim waist and attire casual. "It's...odd."

"Just curious," Jaemin lied through his teeth, raising his hands in mock surrender. There was no doubt that this guy was a mafia member. The forward attitude, too-normal-to-be-natural look, and the subtle knife hidden in the waistband of the boy's jeans that Jaemin found easy to spot.

"Curious? It's a burned out station controls office."

"Well, why are you questioning my whereabouts, hm?" The taller posed, cocking his head to the side and unintentionally wearing a dark and malicious expression.

"Because....." the brunette clicked his tongue, "Loitering around the subway is dangerous. I'm on patrol."

Yeah right. Patrol for Jupiter, the younger thought, shrugging nonchalantly and stepping away from the sealed door. "Whatever."

He started to walk back down the platform when the other quickly grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around.

"What business do you have down here?"

"Chill it.....Taeyong," Jaemin arched his brow, shifting away from the shocked man's grip.

"How-"

"Name tag," he pointed out, noting that it was the symbol for the local library. Obviously the members were still dispersing to remain under the radar by day.

"Oh...." Taeyong swallowed harshly, fixing his jacket to cover it. "You should go. The station will close up soon."

"You too," Jaemin hummed, turning on his heels and sauntering back towards the stairs he had descended previously. Though what had changed from when he arrived to his departure, was his face.

He was smiling psychotically now that he had found the base. That nervous member was definitely trying to steer him away, so it only added to his confirmation.

Oh Haechan, he thought, biting on his thumbnail as a heat swelled up in the pit of his stomach. A twisted feeling he got at the idea of murder. Mark had told him it was his 'bloodlust', but it was really arousal, he had learned. It was the same for when he slept with people.

Your leadership will be short lived, Darling. Just wait 'til I have my fingers around your neck....

"Fess up, Asshole. Where's the money?" Kim Jungwoo, a man with an insatiable thirst for other's pain, or otherwise known as a 'sadist', hissed. The man he stood in front of was trembling and shielding his face while slumped against a bench, sitting.

"I-I swear I had it. Someone took it while I was-"

"Bored now," the red-head whined, pulling out his own special weapon, the nail-clippers. Obviously, he didn't use them for killing people. But Jungwoo was actually used for torture and retrieving answers, rather than field work.

Donghyuck stood behind them in the desolate park, the trees shrouding their conversation and covering their location. He was remaining quiet, always finding a charm to his sadistic member's games.

"Okay, let's start with the real conversation," the tall boy giggled joyously, crouching down in front of him and ripping his hand into his grasp. "This won't stop until you give us a real excuse, Mister."

"Oh my god...." the other wailed, shaking uncontrollably as Jungwoo carefully placed the clippers at his index fingernail, clipping it off and laughing obnoxiously loud when the victim shrieked in surprise, expecting pain.

"See? Now that this part is gone," he murmured, reattaching the odd weapon choice to the shortened nail, "We can go deeper. Where's the money? Hm?"

"I-I don't know...."

"You see, Mister," the red-head sighed almost disappointedly, though of course he wasn't, "I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm a dog. I smell bullshit from a mile away, and I rip people to shreds when they displease me." He clipped down on the nail, ripping an unready piece from its bed and snickering when blood bloomed from the pathetic wound.

The man bit back a sob, scrunching his face up and trying not to scream.

"No?" Jungwoo pouted, tilting his head and going again, though this time unearthing the entire nail and listening as a deafening crunch sounded and left raw and exposed muscle behind.

The skin had torn away, the nail dropped the the ground, and blood poured from his finger. His hand was already turning red as blood flowed towards the abused area to keep it going.

"Money, money, money," the tall male chimed, checking over his shoulder to see Donghyuck watching with a dark smile. The shadows of the night casted over his face made it ten times more intimidating.

"Go on, Woo," the leader urged, "He hasn't spilled, yet."

"Just admit it, Mister," Jungwoo grinned, his eyes laced with murderous venom and excitement. "You don't have it. Say it with me; You. Don't. Have. It."

"Ngh," he winced, too damn shellshocked to even find his voice. His nerves had gotten the best of him, and it was clear.

"Okay," the younger sighed, clipping the top of the finger away and chomping straight down on the pile of nerves. Shrieks and cries flew across the open area, falling onto either deaf ears, or none at all.

"Usually," the young member explained, "I actually clip softer parts like lips, ears, sometimes parts of the cheek if I'm bored enough. But you're even more pathetic than the others. You can't even handle a finger."

"Admit you never had it, Jackass. I might spare your life," Donghyuck uttered from afar.

The man whimpered when more of his finger, the muscle exposed and bleeding hard, was chopped off. "I-I-"

"Faster!" Jungwoo hissed, pulling out his dagger quickly and pressing the pointed tip against the pleading man's neck. "Haechan and I don't have all day, Fucker. We have better places to be."

"I don't have it. I-I wasn't able to make enough in time. I-I'm so sorry...." he sobbed, head tilting down as pained noises wracked throughout his body. The red-head rolled his eyes, standing up and spinning the blade around his fingers.

"Gotcha," he whispered, stepping back as Donghyuck brushed past him.

"Next time you strike a deal with me," the brunette spoke lowly and darkly, "Follow through on your end of the goddamn deal."

With that, he pulled out his trusted knife, ripping the older's head back by his hair and slashing across his throat mercilessly. Blood sprayed out and ended up in flecks across the pair's faces.

They both groaned simultaneously, disgusted by the consequence and standing back to let the corpse bleed out. As Haechan wiped his face with the back of his sleeve, he peered at Jungwoo carefully.

"Good job."

"Thanks. He was a pain in the ass from the beginning."

"Tell me about it," the younger grumbled as they began their journey back to the base. Donghyuck paused, realising he had forgotten something.

The young adult quickly etched a rough lightening bolt into the deceased guy's cheek with his dagger, the symbol of Jupiter. He then caught up with the older and continued walking.

"You said 'next time you strike a deal with me' like there would be one," Jungwoo muttered, playing with his clippers peacefully. "So mean."

"I'm not mean," Donghyuck scoffed, flicking his blade up in the air just to catch it again. "I'm bad. There's a difference."

"Psh, sure there is."

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