This chapter is kinda short oop-
And I'm just warning y'all, it contains murder and mentions of murder and smut skskskkj.

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"Fuck.. " Jeongguk moaned as he was bouncing on a stranger's cock.
The stranger was grunting, thrusting up in a rythm matching with Jeongguk's.

Both were feeling close, the rythm of their hips getting messier.
Both came after a few more thrusts, breathing heavily.

Jeongguk smirked as he grabbed the knife hid in his nightstand, the stranger not noticing anything as he was still riding his orgasm.

Jeongguk giggled as he stabbed the man in the heart multiple times, his free hand covering the man's mouth, muffling his screams for help.
No one could hear him anyways, Jeongguk's walls were soundproof and no one was around.

Jeongguk sighed in satisfaction,getting off the dead man's cock,licking some blood off his knife.
He walked to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself before proceeding to carry the dead man in his car.

It was 1 am, no one was outside, the perfect time for Jeongguk to drive to the nearest forest and burry the dead body here, after taking a photo with his camera of the new masterpiece he made yet again.

After Jeongguk 'cleaned all the mess', he stopped to a non-stop shop where he bought some biscuits and coke.

When Jeongguk arrived home it was around 1: 45 am.
The young boy falling asleep, looking so innocent, innocent after he killed a man again.

That's what Jeongguk does, sleep with men, killing them after. Jeongguk wanted to be the last, the last person a man slept with. To be remembered as the pretty innocent-looking boy, with his big doe eyes and his bunny teeth being the last thing someone saw after they took their last breathe.

Jeon Jeongguk, 21 years old boy, an art student, drawing pretty well and he himself being a masterpiece of art created by gods, a small waist, thick thighs and muscles.

People thought a dead body is horrible, terrifying, something not good to see.
But Jeongguk's mind is twisted, Jeongguk thought he was making art when the splashes of blood covered a person's body.

He liked painting someone with their own blood.
Their body being his canavas and their blood his paint, his knife being the brush.

The 21 years old boy felt no guilt, no regret. 
The boy didn't feel any regret in 'making art' his way at all.
He felt happy, really happy.

He made those kind of masterpieces for months, no one suspecting anything.
He made 32 masterpieces, and in his opinion there are so many more to come.

So many canavas to paint and transform into art, and Jeongguk was more than happy to be the painter, the artist.

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Next chapter is coming in two days

I'll probably be posting from one to three chapters a week.