It was nearly 6:00 pm when he arrived home. The lights on the house are turned on and giant clouds are gathering ominously above with a slight mist dribbling down the car's window.

Dr. Park got off the driver's seat and turned off the engine. He jingles with the key in his hand whilst he hummed a melody under his breath, walking behind the trunk and grabbing his stuff. In the line of his vision, he thought he saw his neighbor walk out. He turned to his side and spotted Mr. Chou standing by the mailbox.

He smiled at him and raised his hand, bowing his head lightly. The cranky man nodded shortly in return, blowing the smoke through the light fog of mist. Dr. Park had known Mr. Chou for a long time. That great neighbor of his was once his nightmare when he was ten.

It is funny to think about it now, but Dr. Park would not deny that he once thought that Mr. Chou is a murderer. Mr. Chou appeared to be a big guy with his round tummy bumping in front of him, a long silver beard, a black bandana tied on his head invariably, and an eye patch on his left eye. He always has that chemical stick in his mouth, blowing through it as though it's oxygen he can't live without. And he often wears that sullen expression on his face. He looks like a guy who can beat ten bears with each one punch. His voice was deep and powerful which made him look scarier.

As a kid, Dr. Park was afraid of him. Besides his cantankerous appearance, there's a rumor about him going around the town. They said Mr. Chou kidnapped kids, and he grilled them alive, and fed their remains to his pigs. However, it was just a tale made by adults to scare kids and deterrent them from wandering out of the street at night. As he grew more curious about Mr. Chou, he learned that he was just a lonely man with no family.

His wife left him with their two daughters because of his morbid addiction to alcohol. Dr. Park could not help to feel sad for him and his family, but he was just a kid at the time he found out about those realities and he can't do anything about it but wishes for Mr. Chou and his family to gather together again and start a new life. And until now, he still wishes and prays for him.

He couldn't help but sigh, remembering the tragic story of his neighbor.

As Dr. Park stepped his foot onto the doormat, he was struck with the appetizing smell of the kimchi stew simmering on the stove. He quietly went to the living room and left his bag on the couch.

"You're home!" Mrs. Park exclaimed as she took notice of her son. "Yeah, there's not much work in the hospital so I got home early. What are you cooking? Is that some kimchi I'm smelling right there?" He teased as he darted beside his mother. Mrs. Park giggled and picked up the food, and placed them on the table.

"Yeah, I cooked your favorite because I think that you have been skipping meals lately. Look, you're getting skinny!" She rebuked, frowning her brows as she acted mad. Park Jimin pulled a seat in front of the table, beaming.

"I was super busy with my job and stressed all about my patient and those gossips lingering around. So eating is no longer on my list-" Mrs. Park sighed. "That's the thing I feared the most, Chim. When you get drowned out with your work and you neglect your health."

"Alright, I'll leave you here. I still have to fold the laundry. Finish your food, okay?" Mrs. Min said as she took off the apron and placed it on top of the counter. Dr. Park only nodded slightly in response. Mrs. Park walked past him and he heard the footsteps gone into the living room.

He stopped eating and the taste of the food seemed to vanish on his tongue, as a memory of something crossed his head. The file... Right, the file... He kept it under the drawer on top of the cold yellow and white-colored folders. Fidgeting with other people's life has now been always Dr. Park's business — but the truth screams on his dream. They sing like crickets of the lonely mysterious night, waiting to be heard by righteous ears and sentient minds.

____

"Hello, Yoongi, it is nice to see you again. How are you?" The pale man, sitting across the table, stared apathetically at him. Min Yoongi may be considered insane but he's not dumb to not know what is going on. His eyes gazed in a daze at the smile the young psychologist has on his face.

He scoffed. "Stop fooling around, Dr. Park, you're not anything different from them. Just say already what you want. Stop making me look pathetic." Dr. Park was surprised at the statements that flew out of Min Yoongi's doll mouth, but instead of getting offended, he beamed. It was the longest paragraph Patient 666 had said since the first day they talked, and he will make sure to take note of it.

"We're not in the mood today, are we?" He asked, clicking through the tip of his pen with his thumb, leering knowingly as though he'd known Min Yoongi for years. He does! After all the newspapers he'd collected from the paperboy that rides along with his bicycle, going door by door to deliver those bundles of dark news. Running his eyes through the text that talks none but the same name that haunted everyone for how many years, while he sipped with his morning mug of coffee. Indeed, he does.

But it was not enough.

Dr. Park is a psychologist for five years of his career, he's considered one of the professionals in the field - howbeit, all those things he learned from school become useless as he stared deeply into the eyes of the twenty-two years old teen. Literally, a teenager.

A teenager who can make a valedictorian and a Doctor of Psychology (Psy.D.) graduate look dunce. Dr. Park looks like a feline having an eye to eye contact with a feral lion, as he tried to read Min Yoongi's mind but they appeared as plain brick.

Min Yoongi was hard to read. There is nothing in his eyes. They're dim and filled with obscurity, inscrutability, and conundrum. A crow rattling and cawing at the dusk. If everyone can be seen as an open book — he is the athwart, an unresolved closed book if Dr. Park defines him.

"Let's start, shall we?" He asked, displaying a thinned smile with his eyebrows raised. Dr. Park took a long deep breath in, flipping through the papers clipped on the clipboard he brings around.

"Today, we're gonna talk about your family. Is that okay with you, Yoongi?" He asked once again, polite and calm. Min Yoongi did not answer which Dr. Park concluded to proceed on a certain topic.

"How's your relationship with your mother, Yoongi? Are there any conflicts between you and your mother that may cause your misunderstandings?" He inquired, looking up from the paper laid lifeless on the desk. Dr. Park waited for a few more minutes, giving Min Yoongi time to adjust before he answered.

The minutes passed and no words were heard from the mint-haired boy. The room chimed with deafening silence, nestling against the dreary thin walls. As the clock flailed its finger, Dr. Park could feel the glum atmosphere inside and the room speaks of no life.

"How about your siblings, Yoongi? Do you have siblings?" He tried again in the hope to receive an answer this time, but the answer that he got was far away from the answer that he expected.

"Why are you doing this, Dr. Park?" Min Yoongi asked back instead, staring vacantly at the doctor. Dr. Park opened his mouth but he couldn't find his voice. Min Yoongi chuckled bitterly. "For the money, obviously."

He inhaled deeply. Min Yoongi bent his waist and moved forward, smirking predatory. Dr. Park felt a finger of chills tap him in the back. He noticed the sudden exchange of behavior with the patient, and Min Yoongi's eyes were unusual. They're not normal, no, they're not humans. His eyes are all black, stared deeply into his unsettled soul.

"But, what else can you do for money, Dr. Park?" Min Yoongi whispered. His voice sent shivers down his spine. He furrowed. "I'm not doing this for money, Yoongi—"

"Money, money, money, look at these humans." He laughed derisively, skimming his fingers vaguely on the desk. Dr. Park watched in a puzzle, but he remained calm.

He galloped. Min Yoongi waved his hand, making a gesture. "I don't know if you're trying to be a hero here, or what. But don't you think Dr. Park... you should be worried more about yourself?

Because... because I can see here, after a few months ahead, you're floating dead fish in a bowl and your Coccydynia mother, that might die after you, dropping tears on your casket," he mugged and burst into a peal of shriek laughter. Dr. Park could feel the heat of anger rises throughout his body—but he knows better than exploding in his emotion, he knows damn well that the boy is eluding him out of his wit.

Dr. Park tried to convince himself that Min Yoongi doesn't know what he was saying. It's not him. No, definitely not him. Dr. Park knew Min Yoongi could not say those words. It is another person. It's the mentally disabled Min Yoongi, the alternate of his image — but it surely is not Yoongi. But how much does he know Yoongi? Does he really know him? Perhaps he was just pretending to know him, but the truth is, he knows nothing about him. Nothing.

And then — Min Yoongi stopped laughing. His expression dropped and was covered with darkness, and cold, and his eyes leered madly.

"Have you ever heard of death?"

"Do you know how it feels burning alive, Dr. Park? That searing pain that you wish you are dead. Worms crawling out from your pores. You are set on fire, getting cooked alive like a sacrificial goat — but those worms seemed can't die. They crawl out of your socket, your ears, your nose, and they eat you like rotting flesh faster than the flare—" Dr. Park can no longer stand what he was hearing. His skin split away from his body and he's full of dreads and uneasiness. The disturbing description caused the hair on his body to prickle. He had enough and he's sick of it as if something is kicking in his stomach. A crow. An alive crow inside of his stomach, chirping.

"Open the door, we're done!" He yelled to the guard calmly, and he heard the door screech behind him. Dr. Park slowly stood up. His gaze stuck on Min Yoongi, and he gradually turned around.

As he was about to approach the door, a deep voice called his name causing him to stop. He slowly looked over to his shoulder, still seeing the infuriating smirk drawn on Min Yoongi's face.

"I'll see you in hell, Park."

****
I'm sorry if the story is boring, but trust me it'll get better soon. We're not in the exciting part yet😉.