A/N: This is originally posted in an app called "RFA Amino for Mystic Messenger". You can find me there as "Sumin Han" where I dump all of my thoughts.
You can probably tell what sort of story this is from the title or picture, or both. I didn't go into detail but still: read at your own risk.
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He doesn't know when he starts hearing them — these dark voices that tell him things.
Sometimes its whispers are loud, sometimes faint enough to let him sleep through the night.
When he doesn't listen — it screams.
So he listens. He is obedient.
It digs into the graveyard of his soul, where he has buried all things supposed to be dead. So it fully knows him, it dictates what he must think and must do.
When it says jump, he jumps. When it says strike, he strikes — he does everything it says. He is held as a hostage and he develops a Stockholm syndrome relationship with it.
Even when it came to her, it knows well what he should do.
So he listens again.
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"Trick her."
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He waits till an hour before evening and calls her over, he whines about his lessons and how much he is having a hard time on each of them. He admits that he isn't one of the brightest light bulbs out there and she feels bad as he does so.
She worries more and agrees to help him, he can't stop smiling. He prepares everything he needs as soon as she hangs up.
She is so good to him and he must make sure she is all to himself.
After some time, she arrives with books and references within her thin arms. She frowns when she sees how poor he does in his exams, but she smiles with determination to help him through the hell of his midterms.
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"Make sure she drinks it."
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During a break on their study session, he stands and slips into the kitchen. He'll make her some tea.
His hand quivers as he holds a small teacup and his breath comes deep and ragged from his lungs, a bead of cold sweat runs along his cheek. Warm water is poured and tea powder is added to the cup.
He then drops special ingredients into the beverage, he twirls it around until it is toxic. But subtle for her to not notice.
It will just be tea to her taste.
She drinks it with a smile when he gives it to her and her pretty eyes starts to droop halfway through their resumed session.
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"Tie her up."
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He takes some rope he has hid under the couch.
Her head has fallen on the table, her hair becomes the curtain of her face, but through her locks he sees the thin lining of her pink lip.
Tea has spilled and tainted some pages of a book with its auburn color, then it also plummets on the furs of the carpet.
She is carried into his arms like a bride on a wedding night, he takes her to his bed.
Gently, he sets her down on the sheets and rolls her to her side.
He gathers her hands behind her and wraps a knot along her wrists, pretty red marks already on delicate skin — he can't have her attack him.
Then next, he binds her ankles together — he can't have her running.
He nearly jumps out of his skin.
A loud ringing comes from the living room, must be her phone. So he answers the call in her place.
It's Zen looking for her.
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"She's washing her face right now, I think we'll be up too late..." he tells Zen and he hears a groan and some scolding to study harder.
"Take care of her."
Zen ends the call.
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Her eyelids slowly lift and she panics instantly when she notices the bindings on her limbs. There is a look of horror behind her clear and bright eyes.
"Why are you scared? We love each other and no one loves you more than I do," he smiles as to calm her. She is shaking now.
He embraces her and she continues to tremble like a leaf within his arms. "You're confused... Zen... Jumin... Seven... They keep trying to take you away from me. But know that my feelings are stronger than anyone's."
The heartbeat against his chest is stronger and louder than his.
She screams.
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"... Yoosung! You're not my boyfriend...!" tears appear on corners of her eyes as she screams until she sores her throat and pleads to leave.
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There is also a scream inside his mind.
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"Put your hands on her neck... Squeeze... Squeeze... Squeeze. That's right... don't let go... Good."
"... She is quiet now," he mutters. His nails are red. "She's beautiful."
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"She will be much beautiful in pieces."
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So he cuts and cuts until there are different shades of red all over him.