Chapter Text
"They call me a menace
They say that I’m cursed
But somethin' about me is makin' 'em jealous
So listen and learn
I herd 'em like cattle
'Cause I’m surrounded by cowards
And I don’t give a fuck when I walk into battle
And thats why I got all the power
I’m where you wanna be
Ain’t no one ahead of me
All of my enemies made a decision
It's better to follow me
I make no apologies
All of my sins I would repeat and I repeat
'Cause I'mma be me 'til the death of me, oh yeah
I can smell your fear
The only reason that I’m here
Is to wreak havoc
Everybody prayin' that I’ll change, yeah
Maybe one day but tomorrow I’ll be back at it
'Cause bad habits they die hard
We live fast we die hard
Go against me you’ll die hard
Die hard"
Wreak Havoc - Skylar grey
---
“M-Minhyuk?” The man cries out as Minhyuk slowly puts on his black leather gloves. “I thought you loved me?”
“Oh, I do sweetheart.” Minhyuk smiles, as he pulls the slim blade from his belt. “I love to hurt you. Same difference.”
The man’s screams echo through the room as Minhyuk slits his throat, relishing the shocked look in his eyes as his blood gushes out on the carpet. Minhyuk cradles the man’s head, holding him close as he bleeds out. Minhyuk would have liked to take his time more, really enjoy the moment, but he’s on strict orders to get it done quickly. Still, clean and painless is not Minhyuk’s style at all, plus it really wouldn’t be fair to the cleanup crew if they had nothing to do, so he makes sure to make a few decorative cuts here and there.
A knock on the door tells him it’s time to go. Minhyuk wipes off his blade and steps outside. “Jesus, do you always have to be so theatrical?” his partner, Jooheon asks as he takes a look at the scene Minhyuk has left behind.
Minhyuk shrugs, flashing his trademark smile. “Hey, I have a reputation to keep up.”
“You’re fucking crazy.” Jooheon mutters.
Minhyuk sees the men in black suits waiting by the corner already, ready to take care of the body and any other evidence. He rakes a hand through his blond hair, smearing traces of blood in his luscious locks.
“At least let me join in next time.”
“That’s more like it, brother.” Minhyuk wraps an arm around Jooheon’s shoulders, pulling him close. Their laughter fills the empty streets.
--
Jooheon is his brother. Not by blood, but within the organization they might as well be. Dubbed as the cheerful twins, wherever Jooheon and Minhyuk go together bodies pile up in their wake. They get their orders from Hyungwon, son of the Boss, who also makes sure they don’t go too crazy.
--
“Minhyuk, I told you not to make such a mess, do you know how much it costs to have the carpet cleaned out every fucking time?” Hyungwon sighs, rubbing his temples with his fingers as he goes over the documents that were brought in before.
“You know that’s not my style boss~” Minhyuk says, his feet draped over the sides of the chair.
“First, I’m not your boss.” Hyungwon inhales sharply. “Second, I need you to do as you’re told.”
Minhyuk grins. “Or else? What are you going to do, fire me?”
Minhyuk is good. He knows he is good. He knows that he can get away with practically everything, because in the end, he always delivers. He knows the big Boss likes him, knows he is a big asset to the organization. (Plus, despite the fact that they always insult each other, Hyungwon and Minhyuk are friends, so formality has long since gone out of the window)
“Ugh. Just get out of my face before I let Hoseok throw you out.”
Minhyuk gets up from his chair. “Oohhh no, not Hoseok, now I’m really scared.” He pats Hoseok’s chest on his way out. “No making out during business hours, kiddoes.” Hoseok is Hyungwon’s personal bodyguard, but it is common knowledge that they are dating. Hoseok furrows his brow and does his best to ignore Minhyuk and remain a stoic expression, though his ears are burning red. Hyungwon yells some obscenities after Minhyuk, but he has stopped listening.
--
Minhyuk decides to take a long shower when he gets back to his own penthouse flat. It’s a luxurious space, much too big for one person, lavishly decorated, but what else do you spend money on when you already own everything you could possibly want? Life has been good for Minhyuk. He was drafted into the organization at the age of 16, flat broke, scared, alone and hungry. Hungry for blood. He soon discovered he had a taste for killing, a dark hunger inside of him that could only be satiated by taking a life.
The red stained water swirls down the drain as the blood washes from his hair. Minhyuk has his eyes trained on the mirror opposite of the shower (slightly narcissistic, yes). He’s beautiful. He knows he’s beautiful. Blond hair, pale flawless skin, toned arms –but not too buff, a physique that doesn’t betray his strength, skinny –but not too skinny, and a dick that makes people want to get on their knees (to pray, what else, you perverts).
Within the organization, people fear him. His reputation precedes him, and no one dares to get close to him (save from his friends, but he doesn’t sleep with his friends). Outside the organization, Lee Minhyuk does not exist. He plays whichever role he needs to play. Lee Minhyuk the accountant, Lee Minhyuk the artist, Lee Minhyuk the college student. No one knows who he is, who is really is, until it’s too late.
Minhyuk dedicates his life to his work, and in his work, he is never lonely. Other people are his play toys, there to entertain him until he grows bored of them and discards them. To Minhyuk there is no better feeling than the kill, the final moment as he cuts the fragile thread of life. He lives for the rush, the high of the adrenaline that surges through his body, a feeling that trumps even the greatest orgasm.
That’s not to say he never gets off. People are drawn in by his charming personality, his good looks, his easygoing nature. He has many one night stands, men and women, it doesn’t matter to Minhyuk. They are a momentary distraction (a fun distraction, sure, but nothing more) until he gets the real thing.
Minhyuk likes to get close to his targets. Make them feel comfortable. Make them fall in love. And in those short final moments, he is sure he loves them too. After all, don’t we always hurt the things we love the most?