The house was alive, but not in a comforting way. It was sick, decaying, and echoing with the remnants of forgotten screams. The walls groaned under the weight of their own age, the cracked plaster groaning like an old man in pain. The floorboards were warped, creaking under each hesitant step Jungkook took. The smell of mildew mixed with the faint, bitter stench of his uncle’s breath, which permeated the house and clung to everything it touched.

Jungkook sat on the cold, unforgiving floor of his room, his knees pulled tightly against his chest. His body ached with the familiar, dull throb of old bruises, a collection of dark marks etched into his skin. The sharp sting of the fresh cuts on his back burned in the dark, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the internal one. He had lived with it so long that it no longer shocked him. He had learned to live with it.

Tonight, the sounds had been louder than usual. The alcohol had made his uncle louder, his insults more cutting, his violence more brutal. Jungkook could still feel the sting of his uncle’s belt against his skin, the bruises on his arms from being grabbed too hard, the disorienting slaps that rang through his ears.

But it wasn’t the pain that lingered in his mind now. It was the words.

"You’ll never be anything," his uncle had spat, his voice thick with alcohol. "I should have left you on the street where I found you."

The words dug into his skin, deeper than the belt, deeper than any slap. They echoed in his mind like a chorus, relentless and never-ending.

In the corner of his room, shadows moved, shifting unnaturally, curling like smoke, only they were more than smoke. Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat, but he didn’t flinch. He was used to the shadows. The dark was something he knew intimately, and it seemed to know him back.

His uncle had gone to sleep in a drunken stupor, sprawled out across the couch with an empty bottle of whiskey at his side. The room reeked of it—alcohol, sweat, and years of decay. Jungkook could hear his uncle’s heavy snoring, his labored breathing punctuated by occasional coughs.

It was always like this. The violence. The drunken stupor. The constant humiliation.

And tonight… tonight, something felt different.

The shadows whispered, or maybe it was just in his mind. But it didn’t matter. The feeling was the same. It was an inevitability that wrapped itself around him like a cold, dead hand. He stood, his legs trembling slightly, but it wasn’t fear that made them shake. It was anticipation. The knife he had hidden in his pocket felt heavier than it should. The cold steel pressed against his palm, and he let out a shaky breath as he grasped it tighter.

His uncle lay on the couch, sprawled like a bloated carcass. His snores were deep and distorted, the sound a mix of exhaustion and drunken stupor. Jungkook’s steps were silent as he approached.

The darkness seemed to thicken in the corners of the room, the shadows closing in, crowding him like they were trying to push him forward. The whispering got louder, or maybe it was just in his head. His uncle shifted slightly in his sleep, but the room remained still.

"Do it," the shadows whispered.

Jungkook’s hand tightened around the knife, the blade glinting faintly in the moonlight that slipped through the broken blinds. He leaned over his uncle, the tip of the blade just grazing the man’s neck.

His uncle stirred, his eyes opening just enough to meet Jungkook’s.

"Jungkook… what are you—"

The first strike came fast, and the blade sank into the soft flesh of his uncle’s throat. A choking sound escaped the man’s mouth, but it was drowned out by the wet gurgle of blood pouring from the wound.

Jungkook didn’t hesitate. He pulled the knife out and plunged it down again, and again, and again. Each strike was met with resistance, each one finding its mark with horrifying accuracy. His uncle’s body jerked, flailing weakly in a desperate attempt to fight back, but it was futile. The knife cut deeper, slicing through flesh, severing blood vessels.

The sound of the blade sinking into the man’s body was sickening—a soft squelch, wet, and horrible. Jungkook couldn’t stop now. The dark shadow in the corner urged him on.

He kept stabbing until the gurgling stopped. Until the body lay limp beneath him. Until the blood pooled on the floor in a macabre testament to what had been done.

His uncle’s face was frozen in terror, his eyes wide open in disbelief. But Jungkook felt nothing. Not fear. Not regret. Only a hollow, empty relief.

The room was silent, save for the drip, drip, drip of blood falling onto the carpet. Jungkook dropped the knife with a soft clatter, stepping away from the corpse. He stared at the lifeless body, feeling a strange peace settle in his chest.

The shadows in the corner seemed to pulse with satisfaction. They wrapped around him, a cold embrace that felt familiar, like an old friend. The whispers had stopped, replaced by a thick silence that seemed to consume everything around him.

Jungkook moved without thinking, dragging the body to the basement. He didn’t look back as he carried his uncle’s limp from down the creaky stairs, the weight of the body pulling at his frail frame. The basement was colder, darker—no light, save for the dim bulb that flickered overhead. The shadows seemed to linger longer down

After burning his uncle's body, a smile decorated his face.

The way his uncle stared at him as life faded from his eyes made the years of pain numben.

That night was the first night he fell asleep peacefully. Excited for his first day at high-school and no more bullshit of his uncle.

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the cracked blinds of Jungkook's new bedroom, painting the barren walls with streaks of light. He stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the tie of his freshly ironed uniform. His hands trembled slightly—not out of fear, but anticipation. Today, everything would change.

Gone was the bruised, broken boy trapped in a decaying house. Here stood Jungkook, a clean slate, ready to reinvent himself. He smoothed back his dark hair and practiced a shy, disarming smile in the mirror. It wasn’t hard to fake innocence when your face looked like his—soft, delicate features, big doe eyes, and a charmingly nervous aura. Nobody would suspect the darkness that simmered beneath the surface.

The shadows had been quieter since that night. They lingered, sure, but they were satiated, as if his uncle’s blood had bought him some peace. For now.

The school was massive, its towering gates opening to a sprawling campus that buzzed with activity. Students hurried to and fro, their chatter blending into a cacophony that filled the air. Jungkook clutched his backpack straps tightly and forced himself to look unsure, timid. It didn’t take long for the other students to notice him.

"Hey, are you new here?" A girl with bright eyes and an easy smile stopped in front of him. Her gaze flickered over him, assessing but not unkind. "You look kinda lost."

Jungkook nodded, letting his gaze drop to the ground like he was too shy to meet her eyes. "Yeah… I just transferred here."

She smiled wider, extending a hand. "I'm Soojin. Nice to meet you."

Before he could respond, another voice cut in. Deep, smooth, and commanding. "Soojin, don’t overwhelm the poor guy."

Jungkook turned toward the voice, and his breath hitched.

There he was. Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung was taller than most of the boys Jungkook had seen, his sharp jawline and piercing eyes giving him an almost otherworldly presence. His uniform hung loosely on his lean frame, the top button undone in a way that seemed effortlessly rebellious. He smiled at Jungkook, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

"I’m Taehyung," he said, holding out his hand. His voice was warm, friendly, but there was something about it that made Jungkook’s pulse quicken. "Welcome to our school."

Jungkook hesitated, just for a moment, before taking his hand. Taehyung’s grip was firm, his skin warm against Jungkook’s cold fingers. Their eyes met, and Jungkook felt something stir deep within him—something dark and possessive.

"Jungkook," he said softly, his voice almost a whisper.

"Nice to meet you, Jungkook," Taehyung said, releasing his hand and gesturing toward the school building. "Come on, I’ll show you around."

As they walked through the halls, Taehyung pointed out the different classrooms, the cafeteria, the library. Jungkook barely registered the words. He was too focused on the way Taehyung’s lips moved, the way his hands gestured animatedly when he spoke.

And then, she appeared.

"Taehyung!" A girl’s voice rang out, bright and cheerful. She jogged up to them, her long hair bouncing with each step. She was beautiful, with a radiant smile that lit up the hallway. She slid her arm around Taehyung’s waist and leaned into him, her gaze flickering to Jungkook with polite curiosity.

"This is my girlfriend, Eunji," Taehyung said, smiling down at her.

Jungkook’s heart sank, but he forced a smile. "Nice to meet you."

Eunji smiled back. "Welcome to our school! I hope Taehyung hasn’t been boring you with his terrible jokes."

Taehyung laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "Hey, my jokes are great."

They continued to banter, their chemistry undeniable. Jungkook watched them, his mind racing. The way Taehyung looked at her, the way his hand rested casually on her hip—it made Jungkook’s stomach churn.

But he didn’t let it show. Instead, he laughed along with them, playing the part of the shy, innocent boy. Inside, though, the shadows stirred, their whispers returning, faint but insistent.

"She’s in the way," they hissed.

Jungkook clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He wouldn’t act now. No, he had to be patient. He had to plan.

By the end of the day, Jungkook had cemented himself as the new, sweet boy everyone wanted to befriend. He had charmed his teachers, impressed his classmates, and, most importantly, secured a seat at Taehyung and Eunji’s lunch table.

As they laughed and talked, Jungkook’s gaze lingered on Taehyung. His mind was already working, already calculating.

He would get what he wanted. He always did.

And if that meant destroying Eunji in the process, so be it.

The following morning, Jungkook slipped into the flow of high school life with practiced ease, his shy smile and soft-spoken demeanor earning him a handful of "Hi"s and friendly glances as he passed through the hallways. He carried his books close to his chest, his head slightly bowed, the perfect picture of innocence. But his mind was anything but.

He had spent the night replaying every interaction, every smile Taehyung had given Eunji. The shadows in his room had been louder than usual, their whispers crawling into his ears and setting his nerves on edge.

“She’s ruining everything,” they had hissed. “She doesn’t deserve him.”

Jungkook hadn’t argued with them. Instead, he had made his plan. It wasn’t enough to simply remove Eunji from Taehyung’s life—he had to do it in a way that would leave Taehyung vulnerable, open, ready to be claimed.

Now, sitting at their shared lunch table, Jungkook let his gaze linger on Eunji. She was laughing at something Taehyung had said, her hand brushing against his arm. Jungkook clenched his fork tighter, the metal digging into his palm. He forced himself to smile, his expression soft and unassuming.

"So, Eunji," he said, his voice quiet but curious. "How long have you and Taehyung been together?"

Eunji beamed at the question, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Almost two years now," she said, glancing at Taehyung with a look of pure adoration. "He’s amazing."

Jungkook tilted his head, feigning interest. "That’s a long time. You must trust each other a lot."

Eunji nodded enthusiastically. "Of course! Taehyung’s the most loyal person I know."

Jungkook hummed, as if in agreement, but his mind was already spinning. Trust. It was such a fragile thing, so easy to break. He glanced at Taehyung, who was busy teasing one of their other friends about his terrible taste in music. His smile was radiant, carefree.

It was almost a shame Jungkook was going to ruin it. Almost.

---

After school, Jungkook lingered in the library, waiting for the right moment. He had noticed Eunji’s routine—the way she always stopped by the library to grab a book before heading home. Today was no different. She walked in, her bag slung over one shoulder, her phone in her hand.

Jungkook approached her with hesitant steps, clutching a random book he had grabbed off the nearest shelf. "Eunji?" he said softly.

She looked up, surprised but smiling. "Oh, hey, Jungkook! What’s up?"

He shifted on his feet, letting his gaze drop to the floor. "I… I don’t know if I should say this. It’s probably nothing, but…"

Her brow furrowed, concern flickering across her face. "What is it?"

Jungkook glanced around, as if making sure no one else was listening, before leaning in slightly. "I overheard something today… about Taehyung."

Eunji’s smile faltered. "What do you mean?"

Jungkook bit his lip, hesitating just long enough to make her uneasy. "I was in the art room during lunch, and I heard some girls talking. They mentioned Taehyung and…" He paused, his voice dropping to a whisper. "They said he’s been texting someone else. A girl."

Eunji’s face went pale. She stared at him, her eyes wide. "What? That… that can’t be true."

Jungkook shrugged, his expression apologetic. "I didn’t want to believe it either. Taehyung seems like such a great guy. But they sounded so certain. I thought you should know."

Eunji’s hands trembled as she clutched the strap of her bag. "Did they say who the girl was?"

"No," Jungkook said, shaking his head. "But they said she’s in our grade. I’m so sorry, Eunji. I really hope it’s just a misunderstanding."

Eunji nodded slowly, her jaw tightening. "Thanks for telling me, Jungkook. I… I’ll talk to him about it."

Jungkook watched as she left the library, her steps hurried and her shoulders tense. A small smile played on his lips. The seed had been planted.

---

That evening, Jungkook sat in his room, staring at the small burner phone he had purchased the day before. It was a cheap, disposable thing, but it would serve its purpose. He typed out a text, his fingers steady despite the thrill coursing through him.

> Hey, I had a great time talking to you yesterday. Can’t wait to see you again tomorrow. ;)

He saved the message as a draft, then typed in Taehyung’s number. It hadn’t been hard to get—one of their mutual friends had let it slip during lunch.

Once the message was sent, Jungkook leaned back against his bed, his heart pounding. It was a simple trick, one that relied on timing and paranoia. But he knew it would work.

---

The next day, Jungkook arrived at school early, slipping the burner phone into Taehyung’s locker. He had deleted the sent message and wiped the phone clean, leaving no trace of his involvement.

By lunchtime, the tension between Taehyung and Eunji was palpable. Eunji barely touched her food, her eyes darting to Taehyung every few minutes. Taehyung, for his part, looked confused and frustrated, repeatedly asking her what was wrong.

Jungkook watched it all unfold, his expression carefully neutral. Inside, he was smiling. This was only the beginning.

The shadows in his mind purred with satisfaction.