Seunggi lifted the cigarette to his slightly chapped lips and took another drag, slowly gliding his gaze over the rather large group of young people gathered outside one of the newly opened clubs located on the opposite side of the street. The sharp neon sign dyed his face orange and its light was hurting his eyes, but he nevertheless did not take his investigative gaze off them. He watched them closely, but preferred to stay out of their gazes. So he stood leaning sloppily against his car, under one of the wide-spreading trees, hiding in its shade.

He had already finished his work for the day and perhaps should have gone home, but something called him back to this part of town. He was already heading toward his small apartment he was renting in one of Seoul's poorer neighborhoods, but some voice in the back of his head whispered to him to head right here. In recent days, this strange voice seemed to intensify and appeared more and more frequently. Perhaps he, too, had a dark passenger inside him, like serial killer Dexter from a TV series he once watched? Perhaps something had entered him after what happened on Monday, or perhaps this demon had always been there, and now only his voice was becoming more pronounced. After all, it is said that appetite grows with food.

Now he also felt this strange hunger that he needed to satisfy...

It must have been an hour since he arrived here, maybe even more, but nothing caught his attention. He headed here because this was the district famous for its rich nightlife scene - Itaewon. He carefully scanned with his eyes the young people entering and leaving the numerous bars and clubs, particularly focusing his attention on the one just across the street. It was one of the biggest and most popular clubs in recent weeks, and he knew that the trendiest places also attract the most people.

He didn't mean just anyone. Oh, no. He wanted to find someone who, in his eyes, deserved to be punished. On someone who was a carrier of that nasty disease, as he liked to call it. The damn thing was spreading at an alarming rate, rotting society like gangrene through infected tissues, poisoning the entire body and leading to inevitable death. He had to stop it before he, too, began to change.

He was already about to lift the burning cigarette to his lips to, taking one last drag, extinguish the cigarette butt, when suddenly something, or rather someone, caught his attention - a young man who had just moments ago emerged from behind the door of the pub he was watching. He stopped motionless, letting his eyes follow the stranger as he, staggering slightly, passed a group of girls standing in front of the premises.

The boy was wearing light-colored jeans with a tear at the left knee and a plain white T-shirt. A leather jacket rested on his shoulders. On the surface, he might have looked like an ordinary Korean, but there was something unusual about him - the stranger had long, mid-back-length, raven-black hair. He didn't often see men with such long hair in Korea, but he saw one the other day. Intrigued, he took a step forward to get a better look at him, but still couldn't make out his face. He cursed under his breath and was already about to take another step when suddenly the stranger, as if feeling his gaze on him, turned his face toward him, and that was enough for him to know.

He knew him.

He had seen him before. It was him he had been watching, sitting behind the wheel of his cab, parked in one of the streets in the Insadong district, as he waited for Luna to come out of her apartment. The boy caught his attention as soon as he emerged from one of the low-rise blocks of flats along with another man. At first, they merely walked side by side, but there was something about them that caught his eye. He saw some strange tension in their bodies, some anticipation. And he was not mistaken, because a moment later the two began to kiss. He remembered until now how tightly his hands clenched on the steering wheel as he watched this disgusting thing. He felt sick and felt rage bubbling up in his veins. And then he still saw him talking to that pathetic fake of a woman.

When he followed her, driving violently out of the alley, he almost hit him, but the man jumped away almost at the last moment. He didn't have time to look at him any longer. He couldn't let someone like that thwart his plan. He had waited too long for that.

After everything was over, he kept thinking back to that moment. If he had turned the steering wheel a little harder, it would have been over, but that would have been too easy. He wanted to teach them a lesson. He wanted them to know that they were sinning. That he was disgusted with them.

Today he apparently got a gift from fate.

The stranger moved ahead, and he led him away with his eyes. The boy had certainly overdone it with alcohol. He walked with a wobbly, uncertain step, clearly staggering. He watched him, unable to tear his eyes away, until he felt a piercing pain on his fingers, in which he had been holding a smoking cigarette until now. He hissed loudly, abruptly withdrawing his hand, and the cigarette slipped out from between his fingers, falling to the ground. The glowing tip burned his beige pants and finally fell to the sidewalk at his feet. Seunggi raised his hand to his mouth and sucked on his burned skin, while looking around to make sure he could run across the street.

Soon he did just that. He did not bother to put out the cigarette butt. Leaving it on the sidewalk, he threw the hood of his brown sweatshirt over his head and ran up to the staggering man. When he was just a step away, the boy tripped over his own feet and nearly fell, but he, taking the opportunity, reached out and tightened his fingers on the man's shoulders, helping him up.

"Oy! Watch out!" he called out.

Having supported himself on him, the boy managed to keep his balance. He lifted his gaze and stuck a glimpse of his eyes, dark as night and somewhat cloudy from the percentages he had drunk. For a moment they stood so close that Seunggi could smell the sensual scent of his perfume, mixed with the scent of whiskey. Also, only now did he have the opportunity to get a closer look at him. The boy was extremely attractive, which made him feel strangely intimidated by his proximity.

"Th... Thank you," the younger man thanked, struggling to enunciate the words. His hot breath crashed against Seunggi's cheek, causing a shiver to run down his spine. So he grunted and, making sure the boy had regained his balance, slowly drew his hands back.

"You should be careful, or you'll fall over and hurt yourself," he said, feigning care.

"Ih... I think I got a little d-drunk...," the long-haired man confessed, as if that wasn't obvious enough. "Bh-but I swear..." That said, he raised his right hand, placing his left hand at heart level. "I h-had just one drink," he added, and a quiet giggle broke from his lips.

"It can happen to anyone," Seunggi assured him, while looking around to see if anyone was paying attention to them and to make sure the boy was here alone. He wasn't sure if, by chance, there wasn't a friend nearby who was celebrating with him at the club. When nothing out of the ordinary caught his attention, he shifted his gaze to the younger man again. "Why don't I drive you home?" he suggested, hoping that the long-haired man would agree and not resist.

"I'll take a cab... a cab," he replied, moving shakily in front of him.

Seunggi cursed in his spirit and grabbed him by the forearm, stopping him from leaving.

"I'm the cab driver," he replied, smiling encouragingly as the stranger shifted his cloudy gaze to him.

"A cab driver?" he repeated. "And where do you think your cab is?" he asked, like a small child, and Seunggi giggled.

"I parked there," he replied, pointing with his hand in the direction of a car the color of ripe orange. "Come on, I'll drive you home," he offered again, hoping this time to persuade him to go with him.

He felt his nervousness growing. When he saw that the boy was drunk, he thought persuading him wouldn't be difficult, but apparently he was wrong. Despite his shaky step and tangled tongue, the long-haired man still retained a consciousness of mind that did not allow him to trust a stranger so easily.

"But I don't want to go home," the man there replied, making a pouty face, as if he were a spoiled little boy, and moved his hand awkwardly, trying to free himself from the older man's grasp.

Seunggi laughed nervously while glancing toward a group of young people a few meters away from them. When he made sure they weren't paying attention to them, he moved his hand to grasp the boy's wrist and clenched his fingers tightly.

"You are drunk, you should go home," he said firmly, lowering his voice, and at the same time pulled him towards the cab, and the man there involuntarily took a few steps towards him, wobbling.

He had already pulled him almost to the middle of the street when finally the long-haired man managed to get his hand out, jerking it violently. When he freed himself from his grasp, he staggered, losing his balance. In the last moments, he managed to regain it.

"Nh-no!" He protested. "I don't want to go home. I want to go to Taehyung," he explained. "I want to go to Tae," he repeated.

"Okay, if you want, we'll go to Taehyung," Seunggi agreed quickly, fearing to silence him so as not to accidentally attract unnecessary attention and, grabbing his wrist, pulled him towards his car.

The man he was dragging stumbled and once again lost his balance, but he managed to catch him at the last moment. The long-haired man threw his arm over the man's shoulder and let him lead the way. Supporting him, the cab driver approached the car and stopped at the back door.

"My friend overdid it a bit with the drinking," he explained, giggling nervously as he noticed the attentive gaze of some woman who had just passed them, and as soon as the stranger had gone a safe distance away, he opened the car door. "Get in," he instructed, trying to keep his tone light so as not to arouse the suspicions of the long-haired man. "I'll drive you to Taehyung," he added, when the boy raised his slightly alcohol-cloudy eyes at him.

"He's my boyfriend," the man confessed, then giggled as if he had just said something funny, covering his mouth with his hand. "Actually... He's not my boyfriend," he admitted a moment later, then leaned toward the cab driver. "We're just fucking," he added. When he said this, he lowered his voice to a whisper, at the same time putting his index finger to his lips, as if telling him a secret, and laughed again at his own words. "But I like him..." he broke off and giggled again. "My boyfriend..." he repeated, arranging his lips into a blissful smile.

His gaze became absent, as if his thoughts were wandering somewhere far away. Seunggi took advantage of this moment of inattention to force him to get into the car. Placing his hand on his head, he bent it down to prevent the boy from hitting the roof of the car and hastily pushed his body inside. The long-haired man offered no resistance and slid deeper inside the vehicle, while he closed the door behind him and quickly circled the car to get into the driver's seat moments later. He jerked the door open and raised his eyes one last time, directing his gaze to the group of people gathered outside the club to make sure no one was interested in them, before finally slipping into the driver's seat.

As he started the engine, his hands clenched tightly on the steering wheel, and he reflexively held his breath. His muscles tensed to the limit. Only when he drove out of the Itaewon district, past the bars and clubs still bustling with life to reach a quieter and less busy neighborhood, did he let out a loud breath through parted lips. He felt the tension slowly leave his body.

He had succeeded.

As this thought germinated in his mind, he formed his lips into a wide smile. He glanced in the rearview mirror to look at the long-haired man in the back seat, but noticed that the man was sitting almost in the same spot where he had put him moments earlier, staring at the buildings they were passing. Feeling his gaze on him, he turned his face toward him, and their gazes crossed. The boy's gaze was still clouded by alcohol, but there was something unusually intense about it, causing Seunggi to be forced to avert his gaze.

"We'll be there soon," he said, returning to staring at the road ahead.

He felt like speeding up, but feared that by breaking the rules he might draw unnecessary attention to himself. So he drove according to the speed limit, being careful not to miss any of the red lights. He couldn't let a police patrol stop him now.

"Where are we going? Are we going to Tae?" The boy asked, looking around with half-lidded eyes. His eyelids were heavy. Drunken alcohol mixed with the cranked-up heating in the car made him increasingly sleepy.

"Yes, yes," the driver nodded.

With every distance he traveled, he felt his excitement growing. This boy had fallen out of the sky for him. He thought he wouldn't hunt anyone down today and go home, and the voices in his head would mock him again, but then he appeared. In addition, he was drunk enough to easily be persuaded to get into his cab, and now he didn't even ask how he knew where to go. The former one resisted and gave him a hard time.

Luna.

At that name, he snorted involuntarily. That's what they called him. He pretended to be a woman. He thought that if he put on a dress and grew his hair, he would look like them, but in fact he was just an awful fraud, pretending to be someone he would never be. The very thought made him sick to his stomach.

When he caught up with him and lowered his window while slowing down and offered to give him a ride, he refused. He insisted several times, but the boy was adamant and clearly alarmed by his pushy behavior. He glared at him as if he were someone better than he was, and then turned on his heel and moved ahead. Seunggi was furious. He grabbed some tree branch he spotted on the lawn next to him and, without even thinking, hit him in the back of the head. Hard. So hard that the boy fell back to the ground. Only being dazed, he let himself be dragged into the cab.

This time was different. The long-haired man was calm, docile. He let himself be controlled and surrendered to his manipulation. But he felt a strange excitement at the thought of how he would react when he finally realized the mistake he had made. He was sure that when that happened, the percentages consumed earlier would evaporate in a second, sobering his mind.

Would they be replaced by fear?

He was so absorbed in pondering that he stopped paying attention to what his passenger was doing. Only when the stranger began to twist restlessly in his seat did he glance at him in the rearview mirror.

"Where are we?" The boy asked, looking around. No nervousness could be heard in his voice, rather it was accompanied by anxiety, caused by disorientation after the alcohol he had consumed. The long-haired man was also visibly sleepy. His eyelids were rising and falling, as if he couldn't bear their weight.

Considering that I don't even have a clue where your boyfriend lives, we're definitely not going to him, Seunggi thought and snorted involuntarily.

"We're close now, we'll be there soon," he lied, however.

The long-haired man looked around again, as if trying to figure out where they really were, and nodded, as a sign that he understood. For a moment he sat in silence with half-closed eyes, before suddenly moving violently in his seat, drawing the driver's attention.

"I think... Ch-I think I'm going to throw up," he groaned. His right hand rose and, grasping the thin material of his T-shirt, began to pull it away from his chest, as if the cotton was burning his skin or compressing his lungs so much that he was unable to breathe through it. "S-stop the car... I'm going to throw up..." he repeated, then covered his mouth with his hand, as if trying to stop nausea.

"Fuck!" Seunggi cursed, then looked around.

He noticed that they were just passing close to a gas station, so he turned hastily toward it and stopped the car. He had not yet had time to turn off the engine, and the long-haired man opened the door on his side and got out of the car, almost falling out of it.

"Fuck," the cab driver cursed again, looking out the window at the stooped silhouette of the boy standing with his back to him, who had run out of the car moments earlier. "And what now, Seung?" he asked himself, combing his fingers through his slightly greasy hair.

Things were not going as he had dreamed, but oh well. He had to pull himself together. He had come too far to give up now.

He looked in the direction of the small store that was located at the station, and something occurred to him. Perhaps this was the way? He opened the glove compartment and took out his wallet. He took it in his hands, then raised his eyes to make sure the long-haired man wasn't paying attention to him, and slowly opened it. He undid the zipper of the small pocket that was hidden inside and immediately noticed the small plastic bag he had slipped there some time ago. He carried it with him just in case.

He glanced once more in the stranger's direction; it looked like the boy was no longer vomiting, as he stood leaning against the wall in the same spot, but he was too busy with himself to pay attention to him. So he returned his gaze to his hands and slipped this small bag out of his wallet pocket. Inside were several white pills. They were sleeping pills that a psychiatrist had prescribed for him when he went into treatment after the voices in his head began to intensify. He discontinued the therapy soon after, but kept the drugs. He couldn't remember the name of them, but they had a nice kick. All he had to do was take one, and after several minutes he was literally losing touch with reality. They were already practically at their destination, if he gave him the drug now, the boy would be gone before they got there.

He spilled the pill on his open palm and was about to slip the bag into its previous place, but hesitated. He opened the bag once more and took out another white pill. The boy was quite a bit taller, more athletic and younger than him. He couldn't risk one capsule not being enough. Clenching his fist with the pills, he slipped his wallet into his jacket pocket and got out of the car. The long-haired man stood leaning against the wall, his eyes closed, and he was breathing deeply. He seemed to be getting better. He approached him slowly and stopped a few steps in front of him. He grunted to get his attention and slipped his hands into the pockets of his beige pants. In his right, he still held both pills.

"I thought I'd jump over to that store and buy you something to drink, hm? It will do you good," he said, feigning concern, while nodding, indicating the nearby market. "Maybe something with sugar, it will sober you up more," he added. "Do you want me to buy you something else? Some food?" He asked, although he didn't care at all if the stranger was hungry. This was just an excuse so that he would have something to dissolve the pills in and force him to take them, without any unnecessary struggle. After all, he couldn't give them to him on the palm of his hand.

"No, as soon as I eat something, I'll throw up again," the man replied, crooking and rubbing his lips with the back of his hand.

"Okay, in that case, I'll be right back," the cab driver muttered and moved ahead, slipping his fist with the pills into his jacket pocket so as not to accidentally lose them on the way.

"Hey, you!" the younger man called out to him suddenly. "Wait," he asked, and Seunggi stopped and shifted his gaze to him. "Sex," he threw in briefly, and the cab driver pulled his eyebrows together.

"Huh?" He grunted in surprise, turning more firmly toward the younger man.

"I mean..." the long-haired man began, but he immediately broke off and grabbed his head, pressing his palms against his temples, as if trying to collect a scattering of thoughts. "Condoms," he finally called out enthusiastically, as if he had just come up with an amazing idea. "I'm extremely horny after alcohol," he added, and Seunggi squirmed involuntarily, but forced a smile nonetheless.

"Okay, condoms," he confirmed and turned on his heel, moving toward the store.

"Just take the XL!" the boy shouted after him, and he squirmed even more, glad that the stranger could not see his face. "Taehyung is a big boy," he giggled.

Seunggi didn't comment on his words, he rolled his eyes, then quickened his step and disappeared inside the store a moment later. Inside, there was only some middle-aged woman manning the cash register, and a young boy wandering around the store. He had bleached hair that looked like a nest and oversized, worn-out sweatpants. He might have been in his twenties. In his left hand he was holding a skateboard, and with his right he was taking a Coke out of the refrigerator. Without looking at him any longer, he snatched two juices quickly, not even bothering to look at what exactly he was taking. He didn't care whether the long-haired man liked oranges or preferred apples, after all. What mattered was that he drank the pills.

He headed to the cash register and approached the saleswoman. He had his head bowed, trying not to be too conspicuous. He preferred that the woman not look at him and remember his face. When the woman scanned the juices, he simply threw the money on the counter without saying anything. He had already taken the juices and was about to leave, but he raised his eyes and looked at the stand that was on his right. On it were chewing gum, lighters and condoms. He quickly grabbed two packs of the largest ones and, having waited for the woman to scoop them onto the cash register, added the needed difference of money. He left the store without saying a word.

As soon as he heard the door close behind him with a slam, he looked around. Making sure no one was around and no one was watching him, he unscrewed one of the juices and dropped the two pills he had prepared earlier into it. Twisting the cork, he began shaking the bottle to make the pills dissolve faster. When he was sure they were no longer visible, he continued toward his car. The long-haired man was still in practically the same place, but now he was sitting on a small wall with his head tilted forward so that his long, raven-black hair obscured his face. He slipped his juice into the pocket of his jacket, so as not to accidentally make a mistake, and approached him.

"Here you go," he said briefly, and when the boy raised his eyes at him, he held out the condom packages and juice toward him.

"Thank you," the younger man replied, and took the drink and both packs of condoms from him.

Immediately he slipped them quickly into his jacket pocket, then pushed himself away from the wall on which he was sitting, trying to get up. As he did so, he staggered and almost lost his balance, simultaneously bumping into Seunggi.

"Careful!" the cab driver called out, helping him keep his balance. "Are you standing?" He asked before letting him go to make sure the boy didn't fall, and the man nodded. "Okay. Drink your juice and let's go," he added, nodding toward the younger man's hand, in which he still held the bottle.

He feared that the long-haired man would refuse. So he didn't press, so as not to arouse his suspicions, but to his satisfaction the boy nodded in agreement and sat down again on the wall where he had been sitting moments earlier. As he unscrewed the cork and put the bottle to his lips, the cab driver held his breath. Unable to look away, he watched him closely. He wanted to make sure that the man drank the entire contents to the last sip. The younger man pressed the bottle to his lips and quickly took several large sips, and the corners of Seunggi's mouth lifted involuntarily.

Things were finally starting to come together.

To hide his satisfaction, he took out the bottle of juice he had also bought for himself and also began to drink. From nervousness, he felt an increased thirst. While drinking, he did not take his eyes off the black-haired man. Not a minute passed, and the boy threw the empty container into a nearby trash can. Without finishing off his own drink, the cab driver popped the cork and took a closer look at the younger man. He knew that the drugs he had drunk should soon kick in, so he tried to spot the first signs of drowsiness.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked, feigning worry.

"I need a minute more," the man replied.

For the first time that evening, the boy did not sound like he was still drunk. The timbre of his voice was now lower than before. Seunggi straightened his figure and turned his face toward him, clearly surprised by this. When he moved so abruptly, he became so dizzy that he was now the one who had to hold on to the wall that the long-haired man had been leaning against a moment ago.

"W-what's going on?" he choked out.

Now, for some reason, even pronouncing those simple words was challenging. It seemed to him that the temperature outside had risen to sky-high degrees, and he was having a hard time catching air. Reflexively, he raised his hand and, grabbing his sweatshirt, pulled the fabric away from his sweaty body. There was Sahara in his mouth, and his eyelids seemed to weigh a ton.

The long-haired boy, who had been sitting with his head bowed so far, suddenly laughed out loud, as if he had just heard some incredibly funny joke, and raised his head so that he was finally able to see his face. Seunggi blinked several times. Apparently, he must have had some kind of hallucination, because the boy's face did not resemble the one he had seen literally a moment ago.

Now it was pale as chalk, his eyelids were covered with black shadow, which was arranged in a shape somewhat resembling a card-shaped diamond, although the vertical lines that were above and below his eyes were much thinner. The man's lips were black, arranged in a mocking smile, reminiscent of a Glasgow smile. However, he wasn't sure if it was formed by scars or just makeup that looked like an extension of his lips.

The young man stopped laughing as suddenly as he had started a moment ago, and for a moment there was complete silence, disturbed by his own nervous breathing. Seunggi tried to step back, but his head was spinning again, so he held on to the wall once more, and the long-haired boy, who had been sitting on the wall until now, stood up. Only now did he notice that he was no longer dressed as he had been before, although he had no idea when he had been able to change or put on that strange makeup. He was now wearing black leather pants and a black jacket, also made of leather, thrown over his bare, muscular chest. The stranger moved toward him with a confident step, as if he had not consumed an ounce of alcohol that night. His step was sure, determined and incredibly agile. He stopped, a step away from him.

"Oh my!" he exclaimed, as if something had troubled him, and covered his black lips with his hand in a theatrical gesture. "Did you get a little sleepy?" He asked, tilting his head to the side, as if to get a better look at him.

His voice had also changed. It was now much lower than before. It sounded like it was distorted by something, even though the boy didn't use anything to change its sound.

Seunggi didn't answer anything, for some reason he was unable to formulate a single word. His mind was chaotic, his tongue was like a peg. His head was spinning so much that he was afraid to move, lest he accidentally collapse to the ground like a log. The long-haired man reached out his hand and grabbed the bottle of unfinished juice he still held in his hand, then lifted it to eye level so that he too could see its contents clearly, then stirred the remaining juice. When he did so, Seunggi noticed the remnant of white sediment and already understood what had happened - he was the one who drank the sleeping pills he tried to give him...

The long-haired man curved his lips into an even wider smile, watching the white sediment at the bottom of the bottle for a moment before finally shifting the gaze of his jet-black eyes to him.

"I hope you didn't throw so much of this shit in here that you'll be dead before we can have some fun," he said, then hurled the bottle to the side. Although he didn't look in that direction, the bottle he threw fell into the trash. "Time for a little nap, Seunggi," the Crow muttered in a low voice.

The cab driver wanted to ask how the stranger knew his name, but before he could part his lips, darkness enveloped him. As his heavy eyelids drooped, obscuring his dark irises, the long-haired man's laughter crept into his ears, resounding loudly to the accompaniment of the crow's cawing.

***

When Seunggi woke up, he had no idea how long he had been unconscious. He didn't know where he was or what had actually happened when he fell asleep. His eyelids were still incredibly heavy, but he could feel his consciousness slowly returning. So he forced himself to open his eyes, but the image he saw was blurry. He saw only some blurred shadows, patches of color and light. After a few quick blinks, the image came into a little more focus, and he knew that it would probably get better with each passing moment. It seemed to him that there was a woman in front of him. He could have sworn he spotted blond hair and something pink, which was probably her dress or blouse. He parted his lips to call out to her and ask for help, but all that came out of his mouth was an indefinable mumble. His temples throbbed, as if he had taken a horse dose of drugs or drank liters of alcohol, even though he had not consumed a sip. He knew that it was the drugs he had prepared for the stranger, which he had drunk by mistake, that had such an effect on him. He had taken them before, but never in such quantities.

He clenched his eyelids, only to lift them again a moment later. This time the image was already clearer. The woman was still in the same place. He could see her blond hair almost clearly now, but her face was still blurry. She looked unconcerned, as if his presence made no impression on her.

Could it be that she was cooperating with the black-haired man?

"H-he... Help me...," he grunted out with difficulty, trying to get her attention, but she did not respond to his cries. He didn't know if she ignored him on purpose, or if the words that came out of his mouth were incomprehensible.

He lowered his eyelids and shook his head, trying to sober his senses. Whoever the long-haired man was, he was probably lurking somewhere in the shadows, just waiting to be able to attack him again. He had to get out of there as soon as possible. After a moment, he lifted his eyelids and noticed that the previously blurry image was finally beginning to come into focus. He shifted his gaze to where he saw the woman. Finally, her face took on clear features.

Her appearance surprised him. She was older than he initially thought, her features no longer as soft as those blurred by drugs. Just as he had guessed earlier, she had straight shoulder-length blond hair, slightly gray skin and dark eyes. She wore blue shadow on her eyelids, had long, thick eyelashes that looked artificial, and her too-narrow lips were covered with garish pink lipstick. He didn't know her, but there was something familiar about her. He turned his head to the side, wanting to get a better look at her, and the woman did exactly the same, copying his movements.

"Hh... Help me..." he repeated, but to his surprise, the woman's lips moved along with those of his.

Was she mocking him?

He reached out his hand to touch her face, but his fingertips, instead of making contact with the warm, soft skin, touched the cold, smooth surface.

He blinked rapidly and parted his lips to say something, but noticed that the woman he was staring at was doing exactly the same thing, and suddenly realized that it wasn't some unknown woman...

It was him...

Panicked, he raised his hands and touched his long blond hair.

"Jesus!" he cried out loudly. "Oh God, what have you done to me!" he continued, while touching his cheeks decorated with blush with his hands, while staring at his own reflection with panic and disbelief.

Frightened, he looked around, trying to figure out where he was. There was not a living soul around, and he was in a small room that looked like some sort of dressing room. In front of him were three cosmetic dressing tables with mirrors that surrounded black frames with round bulbs, on the frame of one of them hung colorful boas, to his right he spotted a cabinet, and on its shelves were stacked mannequin heads dressed in wigs of different colors and lengths, similar to the one on his head, and in the depth of the room stood a rack of sequined and tulle creations. He wanted to move, but quickly realized that his legs were tied to the chair he was sitting on. He also noticed that his abductor had managed to dress him up, replacing his brown sweatshirt and worn beige pants with a pink dress with tulle ruffles. At this sight, an involuntary scream broke from his lips. He grabbed his blond hair in a handful, wanting to pull the wig off his head, but suddenly heard a low, unwavering voice:

"Leave it!"

Seunggi froze. With his heart beating hard, he turned his face to the left and only now noticed that, deep in the room, a young man was sitting on the top of one of the cabinets. The boy had his head bowed in such a way that his raven-black hair formed a velvet curtain through which he could not see his face, but he still knew very well who he was. He was still wearing black leather pants and a leather jacket thrown over his bare chest, exposing his athletic body. In his hand, he held a silver zippo lighter, its flame moving gently. He didn't look at him, but he was still afraid to move. He swallowed nervously.

"W-what did you do to me?" He asked, for a moment shifting his gaze to his own reflection, and squirmed at the sight. "God, how do I look..." he groaned.

He raised his hand and touched his face, at the same time moving closer to the mirror to get a better look. He fluttered his long false eyelashes and raised his hand to grasp them with his fingers a moment later. Before he could tear them off, the stranger jumped to him and slapped his hand with his own, thus forcing him to stop his actions.

"Leave, or you'll ruin my work, and I tried really hard," he scolded him.

Seunggi raised his eyes and met the gaze of his attacker's black eyes. The boy still had black shadow on his eyelids, his face was as pale as chalk, and his lips, surrounded by black lipstick, curved in a wide smile, revealing a row of white teeth. He looked like a freak, but even the strange makeup couldn't hide how handsome he was. Not knowing why, Seunggi felt intimidated by his proximity and withdrew his hand obediently. The stranger corrected his wig, carefully arranging the blond strands, then took a step back so he could get a good look at him, and a moment later his soft lips once again stretched into a beautiful smile.

"Perfect," he assessed, clearly pleased with his work. "I have to admit that pink is your color, and for the fact that your legs are so damn crooked, you look pretty good in that tulle," he joked and winked at him.

Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and approached one of the cosmetic toilets, and the cab driver led him away with his eyes. His stride was completely different from the one he had seen outside the club. Now he moved nimbly like a wild cat, gently swaying his hips. He in no way resembled a clumsy boy staggering from an excess of percentages. With each step, his body moved and flexed with the grace of a predator. Each step was careful and deliberate, drawing attention like the hypnotic melody of a snake charmer.

The black-haired man stopped and slid out the first drawer. He took his time, as if he was well aware that he was being closely watched. Without looking at him, he began to look through the contents of the locker.

"W-why did you dress me like this?" Seunggi asked, finally getting the courage to speak up.

He didn't know why, but he felt his cheeks burning. There was something incredibly appealing about the unknown man, even though he was well aware that he wasn't kidnapping him to hit on him. Until now, he had ignored the physical attraction he felt around other men, but there was something special about him, and it was hard to ignore how handsome he was.

"After all, you've dreamed about it, haven't you?" the younger replied with a question, snapping him out of his reverie. He took out one of the lipsticks from the drawer and twisted it out of the box, as if he wanted to carefully examine its color. "Oh, do you think I should also dress up more so that you don't feel lonely?" He continued, turning his gaze toward him. His lips were still adorned with a smile, but his tone was somewhat mocking, as if he was amused by this strange game. "Maybe red, hm?" He said more to himself than to him, and turned his face toward the mirror.

From where he sat, Seunggi could only see his profile. The man looked at his reflection and moved slightly toward the mirror, then applied lipstick to his lips. He had very nice lips. They seemed soft and delicate. Although they were already covered with black makeup, he pressed the tip of the lipstick to his upper lip and applied a layer of blood-red lipstick, carefully marking the shape of the cupid's bow. He then painted the slightly larger, bottom one and spread the lipstick, connecting the lips to each other.

As he did so, he glanced at his reflection and, having tossed the cosmetic into a drawer, reached his hand toward where the boa scarves hung. Without thinking, he chose a red one and took it off carefully, only to wrap it around his neck a few seconds later, throwing it nonchalantly over his right shoulder. When he thought he was ready, he turned toward the cab driver and spread his arms, gracefully displaying his improved appearance.

"And how do I look? Does the red suit me?" He asked, grinning at him.

"Y-you look a bit like... the Joker," Seunggi burst out before he could bite his tongue. When he realized he had said it out loud, a cold sweat poured over him. "Sh-sorry... I..." he tried to explain himself so as not to provoke anger in the unknown assailant, but to his surprise, the long-haired man laughed out loud, throwing his head back. Raven-black curls fell in gentle waves over his shoulders like a soft veil.

His laughter was loud, bouncing off the walls of the dressing room, but there was something theatrical about it, as if it were part of a game he had thought up. His amusement did not last long. He fell silent as quickly as he had burst into laughter moments earlier. He looked directly at Seunggi with a gaze so intense that it took his breath away. The long-haired man had beautiful eyes, surrounded by a curtain of thick, dense eyelashes. His irises so dark that he was unable to see the pupils. There was something unsettling about that gaze. He was beginning to hate his eyes. That black gaze, it was so piercing that he trembled with fear, but he still could not avert his eyes.

"Joker?" the younger man echoed, snorting with amusement. His voice was rough and firm, with a hint of a growl when he spoke. He took two steps toward him and, resting his hands on his thighs, leaned toward him. His face was now so close that Seunggi could feel his breath on his cheek. "Do you want to say that I look like a psycho murderer?"

"I-I..." Seunggi stammered, trying to get out of the situation somehow. However, the assailant stepped back and stretched his lips into a beautiful wide smile, as if his words did not offend him at all, and on the contrary, as if the comparison pleased him.

"I think you're right," he agreed after a moment of silence. "Sweet, but psycho," he confirmed, giggling. "That's how we like them best, don't we?" He asked, but didn't expect an answer.

He immediately turned on his heel and in a dancing hop approached the dressing table on which he had previously sat. He hopped onto its top, sitting down comfortably, and looked at Seunggi.

"Since we've already dressed up..." he began, piercing his black irises into him. "Then maybe we can get to know each other a little better...," he suggested, after which complete silence fell, broken only by the older man's loud, nervous breathing.

"W-why am I here? What do you want to do to me?" he finally asked, unable to stand the silence any longer and the tension that filled the dressing room space.

"I'm going to do with you what you planned to do with me," the other replied in a confident voice. A smile was still playing on his lips, as if this guessing game was giving him incredible pleasure.

"I thought you were drunk. I wanted to take you home," the cab driver lied, and the long-haired man laughed out loud, as if he had just heard the funniest joke.

"Is that why you tried to drug me with those psychotropics?" He asked, quickly getting serious. "Seung, do you really think I'm an idiot? I may be a little crazy, but I'm also fucking smart. Since you're not eager to talk, why don't I tell you what happened, hm?" he continued, although he didn't expect his explanation at all. "We've seen each other before, right? I know you saw me that morning, on Monday. With him. You saw my hands wandering over his body, how we kissed, and our tongues danced, rubbing against each other... Were you furious when you looked at us? Did you feel anger at the fact that we were so shamelessly flaunting our queerness? Or maybe not at all? Maybe you were jealous? Did you want to be in my shoes? He's remarkably beautiful, isn't he?"

He suspended his voice, allowing these presumptions to fully resonate. For a moment, there was absolute silence.

"I didn't know Luna," he confessed after a moment. "That morning, we bumped into each other by accident. I ran into her, and she lost her flyers, so I helped her pick them up. When I later tried to run across the street, I was almost hit by a cab. I didn't pay attention to the driver. Only later did I realize that I had seen his profile as he drove away with a screech of tires. Perhaps I wouldn't have known it was you if you hadn't made the mistake of showing up at the scene when Luna's body was found. I spotted you in the crowd of onlookers and knew it was you who killed her. From the very beginning, your face seemed strangely familiar to me. It bothered me for several days, until one time I woke up and knew... You were the one driving the cab that tried to hit me..."

"I don't know what you're talking about...," Seunggi lied, although he visibly turned pale upon hearing the black-haired man's words.

"Since I learned that you were a cab driver, I also guessed that you probably spotted Luna in Itaewon. For several days I've been hanging around those pubs at night, looking out for you, and make no mistake... When you saw me today, you thought fate had smiled upon you, hm? You thought you were clever, and I fell into your trap, and in fact it was you who fell into it... I noticed you first, so I entered this club and ordered myself a drink, and then all I had to do was walk out the main entrance and get your attention. I must admit that you disappointed me a little. I thought it would be more difficult..."

"Did you plan this?" the elder choked out, although it sounded like a statement, not a question.

"I'm quite an actor, aren't I? Do you think I have a chance for an Oscar this year? I really tried my best."

That said, he jumped down from the place he had occupied until now and moved towards him with a wobbly step, again pretending to be drunk. He stopped only when he was a step in front of the man tied to the chair.

"If only you had seen your face when I said I was going to throw up," he giggled. "Then it was enough to switch juices so that it was you who drank the drugs with which you wanted to drug me... and voilà! Here we are. Just you and me."

"W-will you kill me?"

"Of course I will," he replied with a broad smile. "But first... I want to hear it."

"What?"

"Your confession," he replied, staring directly into his eyes. "Well, tell me how your mother made you wear dresses, and now because of that you hate gays and other sexual minorities. How your classmates laughed at you at school when you were ten, so now when someone looks at you disrespectfully, you beat them unconscious with a bat. Is that how it works for you? Or do you just do it for fun?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't kill anyone," he protested.

The long-haired man snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Everyone says that. This is already getting boring," he sighed theatrically. "Serial killers really should work on better excuses..."

He turned on his heel and circled around him for a moment, like a vulture around its prey. Finally, without stopping, he took out the silver zippo he had been holding when Seunggi first saw him and levered its lid with his thumb, letting the lighter spit out a yellow-orange flame. Seunggi thought the boy would pull out a cigarette, but it looked like he had no intention of smoking at all. For a moment that seemed to last forever, he stared at the flame dancing under his breath, before finally starting to nimbly spin the lighter in his right hand, performing some impressive tricks. He played like this for quite some time without even looking at him. His fingers nimbly spun the zippo, time and again lifting the lid and lighting the lighter, only to immediately put it out again. Feeling the cab driver's gaze on him, he lifted the gaze of dark eyes to him and moved one finger across the flame, then two, then three. The fire shone through his skin, but there was no grimace of pain on his beautiful face, as if he felt no discomfort. Finally, he closed the lid with an unpleasant, metallic clang, and pierced the gaze of dark eyes directly into the face of the man tied to the chair.

"Would you like me to refresh your memory?" He asked and, without waiting for an answer, took something out of his pocket and moved toward him.

Seunggi felt his nervousness growing, he moved restlessly, and when out of the corner of his eye he saw the long-haired man approaching him, holding something in his hand, he began nervously tugging at his bonds. In his overwhelming panic, he didn't have time to get a good look at what the stranger had taken out of his pocket, but he feared that he had pulled out a knife or other weapon with which he intended to torture him. His hands were not bound, but a thick jute rope was tied around his ankles. His attacker had made some kind of complicated knot on it, as he was unable to cope with it. He tugged at it hysterically, and shouts of panic began to erupt from his mouth.

The assailant covered the distance separating them in a few long strides, his heavy boots clattering loudly against the old, dilapidated wooden floor, which made an unpleasant creaking sound from time to time, until he finally stopped in front of him and took his head in his hands, at the same time turning his face toward himself.

"Oh, no, I beg you, don't hurt me!" the older one howled.

"Tell me about them!" the black haired man growled through clenched teeth. "Lee Seomoon."

"I don't know who is it," the other man denied quickly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that what the stranger took out of his pocket earlier was not a knife, but some kind of device. Most likely a recorder. It was now lying on the countertop of the cosmetic dressing table they were sitting next to. Its LED was glowing red, signaling that their conversation was being recorded. He didn't know if he was doing the right thing by denying everything. This might have increased his attacker's anger, but he was too cowardly to tell the truth.

"In that case, let me remind you," The Crow howled, and, clasping his hands more tightly on the man's temples, recalled in his mind the image of the events of that evening. "Lee Seomoon," he repeated with difficulty as he saw under his eyelids the image of the young man shielding himself with his hands from the blows falling on him. He could feel his fear in his veins, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. The victim's pain flowed through his body as clearly as if it were him being beaten with a rod, but still he didn't stop. He knew that Seunggi felt it too. "You dealt him more than twenty blows. Seo ended up in the hospital with internal bleeding, damage to his facial bones, broken ribs and a collapsed lung. Your blows broke more than thirty bones in his body, permanently damaging his brain...," he said through clenched teeth, fighting the pain that seared through his body, while Seunggi wriggled in his chair, moaning and begging him to stop.

When he felt like he couldn't take it any longer, he opened his eyes and took his hands, taking a step back. He was breathing heavily. Each connection with the victim cost him a lot. He needed a moment to be able to speak again. He raised his eyes and moved his gaze to the older man's face. There was no longer even the shadow of a smile on his lips and that arrogance he had noticed before. Sweat ran down his temples, making even his blond wig sticky on his forehead.

His chest rose and fell in chaotic breathing as he struggled to catch air, parting and closing his mouth like a fish.

"Mh-my sister got a tutu dress from my parents for her eighth birthday with such beautiful pink frills made of tulle..." he finally began to speak in a trembling voice. "I was less than twelve years old at the time. I don't know why, but for some reason I couldn't stop looking at her when she danced in that dress in the living room. She looked so gorgeous with those ruffles flowing with every turn. One day I walked into her room and that dress was hanging on the cabinet, and before I knew it, I had put it on. At the time, I had a delicate beauty and hair that reached almost to my chin. I looked so beautiful... I don't know how long I stood in front of the mirror then, staring at my reflection, but I didn't even notice when our mother entered the room. When she saw me, she was furious. She ripped the dress off me and spanked me so badly with our father's leather belt that I was unable to sit on my ass for a week, and then she dragged me by my hair into the bathroom and shaved it off with our father's shaving razor, leaving a length of a few millimeters. I don't remember how long I cried into my pillow that night, but I learned my lesson. I never did it again... I behaved normally and looked the way every man should. And so far it's been all okay, but I've been seeing more and more of these pseudo men who dress up in women's clothes or shamelessly making out with other men as if it were normal. This disease is eating away at our society like the plague."

"What happened that day?" The Crow asked.

"I was walking home and saw this boy. He was making out under one of the bars with another guy, and when he saw that I was looking at them disgusted, he blatantly laughed in my face. I got behind the wheel of the cab furiously to get home, but was unable to move. Before I knew it, I was driving behind him, following him. When he headed toward the park, I got out of the car and followed him. With each step, I felt my anger grow. I heard voices in my head that refused to calm down. They were shouting to me. After a while, he noticed that I was following him, stopped, and insulted me by calling me an old pervert, as if there was something wrong with me. And after all, he was some kind of freak. I was no longer able to control myself, I grabbed some branch that was lying on the lawn and began to beat him with it. I hit him for so long until he finally stopped moving, and when I realized what I had done, I ran away from there. Then I watched the news to find out what happened to him. When the evening news said he had died in the hospital..."

Seunggi was silent for a moment and finally lifted his gaze to him, although his stare was strangely absent. For the first time since he began his story, the corners of his mouth lifted in a smile, as if what he was about to confess made him happy. Seeing this smile, the Crow felt an unpleasant shiver run down his strong back.

"The voices in my head have quieted down...," the elder confessed.

The Crow clenched his jaw tightly, trying to control the anger that flared in his veins. He wanted Seunggi to pay for what he had done, but first he had to hear everything.

"Choi Guwon. Luna," he choked out, unsure if he was ready for what he had to do.

He knew the man was ready to speak, without his interference, but he wanted him to feel what his victims felt.

This was the only way he could punish him...

He grasped the guy's head in his hands and, even though the man began to struggle, knowing what awaited him, he clenched his eyelids tightly and recalled in his mind the events of the past Monday. He did not know Luna personally. He had only spoken to her for a moment, but for some reason all the emotions hit him even harder. When he felt her fear, it seemed to him that he was about to fall to pieces. He clenched his jaw tighter, fighting the pain that surged through his body, but he would not let Seunggi break out of his grasp.

"Luna," he choked out, thus wanting to force him to confess the truth.

"Yes, fuck yes! I did it!" the man wailed. "I beg you to stop!"

"Luna!" he growled harshly. "I want to hear it," he breathed out with difficulty, seeing under his eyelids a bloody face, disheveled blond hair and a fading gleam in the eyes in which he had stared a few days ago.

"Aaah! I'll tell you! I'll tell you everything, I just beg you to stop!" he moaned pleadingly.

The crow recalled another moment in his mind. One more blow administered with such raw cruelty - the last one.

And when, under his eyelids, he saw that the glow in Luna's eyes had died down and scarlet liquid came out of her mouth, he let go of Seunggi violently. He staggered, breathing hard, and for a moment everything went black in front of his eyes. He reflexively leaned on the dressing table-top, fearing he would collapse to his knees. For a moment he stood like that, panting heavily, trying to control his breathing enough to speak.

Seunggi watched him closely. He was unable to say a word. He was also breathing heavily. He didn't know how it was possible that this boy was showing him all this through mere touch. As his fingers tightened on his skin, he saw his victims. He could feel their pain. He had never experienced anything like it before. Being the one who administered the blows, he felt satisfaction. His veins were filled with adrenaline. Euphoria. Feeling what his victims felt, he cried like a child, lashing out and jerking away. He begged for it to finally end.

When the long-haired man finally raised his head and shifted his gaze of black eyes directly to him, he noticed that his eyes were wet with tears.

Could it be that he too had felt and seen it all?

This time, in addition to the tears in his gaze, he saw something else and knew that it was over.

"I first saw her in Itaewon a few days earlier," he began to say, knowing that there was nothing he could do to change the course of events anymore. "She hailed a cab, and I took the order because I was already nearby. She was dressed in an airy dress in a shade of mint. She got into the car, and at first I thought she was a woman. I only realized when I heard his voice. All along the way, I heard whispers in my head. The demons told me that I should annihilate this freak, but I managed to restrain myself. I drove her to her place and then quickly drove away so as not to do something wrong. I tried to ignore the voices, but they intensified. Day after day. They were the ones that told me to find her. I watched her for several days until I finally knew I had to kill her to silence them. These demons..."

Seunggi broke off and giggled, as if someone had said something that only he could hear, then raised his gaze and looked the long-haired man straight in the eye.

"When I look at you, they talk to me too...," he confessed and giggled again. "They want me to beat you up, just like I did to her...," he added. When he said this, his voice changed. It became lower, more masculine, but at the same time cold, devoid of emotion, as if it was not him speaking, but something that possessed him.

The crow tilted his head to the side, and his dark eyes narrowed as he watched him closely. After a moment, he snorted, as if his words amused him. He straightened his imposing figure and slid out one of the drawers of the cabinet on which he had previously sat. A moment later, he pulled out something from inside it. Seunggi couldn't see exactly what it was, but he noticed a flash of light reflecting off the blade and knew it was probably a knife of some sort. It wasn't until the black-haired man turned toward him that he shifted his gaze to his hands, and, feeling his gaze on him, he twirled the knife on his index finger, as if to demonstrate what he had prepared for him.

Seunggi had never seen such a knife before. It was small, but looked remarkably sharp, its handle entwined with a red cord. Seeing the blade shine, he swallowed hard, and his attacker stretched his lips in a smile, as if he sensed his fear. He twirled the knife on his finger and hurled it swiftly in his direction. Seunggi screamed in terror, reflexively covering his face to hide it in his hands, protecting it from the attack.

He was convinced that in a moment a terrible pain would spread through his body, but nothing of the sort happened. He listened for a moment, but was answered by complete silence. So he spread his fingers apart to look through them, but found that the long-haired man was still standing in the same place. He noticed that several additional daggers had appeared in his hands, looking exactly the same as the previous one. Not knowing what actually happened, he finally slowly moved his hands away from his face, and the stranger again stretched his lips into a beautiful bow.

"Well," he spoke up, with a nod of his chin indicating his feet.

Seunggi followed his gaze and saw that the bonds that had been restraining his legs until now had been cut by the dagger the man hurled. He swallowed with difficulty at this sight. He didn't know how it was possible that the black-haired man was able to throw the knife from such a distance with such precision to cut the jute cord that now lay around his feet. Surprised, he raised his eyes and looked at his attacker again.

"You wanted to beat me up, so get to it," the younger man said, throwing some metal rod in his direction, which fell to the floor at his feet with a loud clang. "Show what you can do," he added, lifting his chin proudly, as if challenging him. "However, I must warn you that it will not be at all as easy to kill me as you think..."

"W-why?" Seunggi asked, hesitantly grabbing the rod from the ground and rising from his previous position.

He clenched his fingers tightly around the iron, feeling its hard, cold texture under his fingers. His palms were sweaty from fear, so he clenched them even tighter to make sure his grip was strong enough for him to deliver a precise blow. He knew that he would probably only have one chance to do so.

"Are you sweet, but psycho?" he choked out, recalling their earlier conversation, and the Crow laughed out loud, tossing his long, raven-black hair back.

For the first time since they met, his laugh no longer sounded so theatrical. It was beautiful, melodious. It didn't last long, however. The boy quickly fell silent and looked into his eyes with his night-black ones.

"I am already dead," he replied, arranging his lips painted with red lipstick into a wide smile.

***

Ayashee:

And yet, The Crow hunted down the taxi driver and punished Luna's murderer...

Will he keep his promise to Tae and not get caught?

Or will he make a mistake under the influence of emotions and our handsome agent will pick up his trail?

xoxo

PS. Taking the opportunity, I also wanted to invite you to check out my birthday project for my friend JustVtine - a translation into English of her beautiful story about our dear Taekook -  Aphrodite's Pearl. The story is not long, it will have only 6 acts, but it is really beautiful. It's a romantic tale of love in ancient Greece, but there will also be emotions and wonderful spicy scenes. If you feel like it, I invite you to check it out! 

Please give it some love.

https://www.wattpad.com/story/362363041-aphrodite%27s-pearl-%F0%9F%95%8A%EF%B8%8F-taekook-%F0%9F%95%8A%EF%B8%8F-eng