Description
order
A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal.
– Oscar Wilde
– Oscar Wilde
citizen
hedonist
seductive
— kim junsu — thirty — 178cm — 60kg — type B —
about
background
WARNING: Triggering content ahead (blood, murder). please Do not pretend to know any of his background in character unless plotted.
Kim Junsu was born to an upper middle-class family; he lived a normal childhood and adolescence of quiet, but sheltered, discontent; he was educated at some of the best schools in the country, and received good grades regardless of the quality of his work, but on his ability to schmooze; and everywhere that he stayed for any long period of time, always seemed to have a suspiciously high disappearance rate of family pets. While most children who learn to burn ants with a magnifying glass—or to melt slugs and snails with table salt—realize that anything more complex, or higher on the food chain, is taboo to maim or kill in the same way, young Junsu found that lesson to be beneath him.
He was fascinated by the squirming and squeaking of trapped rodents before they were crushed under rocks. He found dying house cat yowls to be particularly grating on the ears, but so satisfying when they stopped abruptly. And while the family dogs required more than a magnifying glass, salt, rock, or bare hands on their throats to dispose of, they were the easiest prey to lure out with the right appeals.
In his early twenties, Junsu discovered the same could be said of most people. His first victim was a young adult male, fresh out of adolescence, whom Junsu had offered to take in for a time from off the streets. Poison was easy, but the antifreeze proved slow, and left an ugly, weakened body behind. He kept the young man's shoes as a trophy, dumped the rest in a run-down part of town, and when the wasted corpse was found there was never a suspicion that the death was anything more than overdose.
He didn't claim his next victim until nearly a year later, and the older gentleman proved a tougher nut to crack. His methods had to evolve, as antifreeze poisoning simply wouldn't do a second time. A knife across the carotid was too messy, he was too slight of build to catch his dinner guest off guard to strangle him at the table, and guns were too loud and easily traced—but the femoral artery was vulnerable, and symbolic. He had lured the older man into bed at a hotel, slept with him, and though he lost his ity to the older man, his innocence had already been taken long ago; at the moment of , Junsu slit the man's thigh and felt the life and blood drain out of him while beneath him.
He drew his victim as a pale, lifeless lily bathed in his own blood atop the guady comforter of the hotel bed. The drawing was the only trophy he kept that time. He bathed himself of the blood in the shower, dressed in silence, and left without notice. The guttural bellowing of had drowned out the older man's death cries to the point that his dead body was only found the next morning by housekeeping, and by then the young male of medium build that the police would be looking for had already disappeared back into society. Throughout his twenties, Junsu remained a discriminating killer. His death toll remained relatively small, almost as if it were a rare hobby rather than homicide. As he grew older, however, it became more difficult to sate his peculiar appetites.
Now thirty, and affluent, Junsu lives a secluded life in the outskirts of the city. His home is palatial, his guests are few, and his expenses are limited besides the occasional bottle of wine and pound of Wagyu beef. However, thousands of dollars worth of fresh flowers are brought to him on an almost monthly basis, and the delivery people that visit often speak of the lingering, cadaverous scent. Of course, it's easy to convince a small mind with a smile and the offhand remark that the home used to serve as a mortuary. Most people never look beyond a charming smile and an affable personality to find the bodies hidden in the basement—until it's too late.
Kim Junsu was born to an upper middle-class family; he lived a normal childhood and adolescence of quiet, but sheltered, discontent; he was educated at some of the best schools in the country, and received good grades regardless of the quality of his work, but on his ability to schmooze; and everywhere that he stayed for any long period of time, always seemed to have a suspiciously high disappearance rate of family pets. While most children who learn to burn ants with a magnifying glass—or to melt slugs and snails with table salt—realize that anything more complex, or higher on the food chain, is taboo to maim or kill in the same way, young Junsu found that lesson to be beneath him.
He was fascinated by the squirming and squeaking of trapped rodents before they were crushed under rocks. He found dying house cat yowls to be particularly grating on the ears, but so satisfying when they stopped abruptly. And while the family dogs required more than a magnifying glass, salt, rock, or bare hands on their throats to dispose of, they were the easiest prey to lure out with the right appeals.
In his early twenties, Junsu discovered the same could be said of most people. His first victim was a young adult male, fresh out of adolescence, whom Junsu had offered to take in for a time from off the streets. Poison was easy, but the antifreeze proved slow, and left an ugly, weakened body behind. He kept the young man's shoes as a trophy, dumped the rest in a run-down part of town, and when the wasted corpse was found there was never a suspicion that the death was anything more than overdose.
He didn't claim his next victim until nearly a year later, and the older gentleman proved a tougher nut to crack. His methods had to evolve, as antifreeze poisoning simply wouldn't do a second time. A knife across the carotid was too messy, he was too slight of build to catch his dinner guest off guard to strangle him at the table, and guns were too loud and easily traced—but the femoral artery was vulnerable, and symbolic. He had lured the older man into bed at a hotel, slept with him, and though he lost his ity to the older man, his innocence had already been taken long ago; at the moment of , Junsu slit the man's thigh and felt the life and blood drain out of him while beneath him.
He drew his victim as a pale, lifeless lily bathed in his own blood atop the guady comforter of the hotel bed. The drawing was the only trophy he kept that time. He bathed himself of the blood in the shower, dressed in silence, and left without notice. The guttural bellowing of had drowned out the older man's death cries to the point that his dead body was only found the next morning by housekeeping, and by then the young male of medium build that the police would be looking for had already disappeared back into society. Throughout his twenties, Junsu remained a discriminating killer. His death toll remained relatively small, almost as if it were a rare hobby rather than homicide. As he grew older, however, it became more difficult to sate his peculiar appetites.
Now thirty, and affluent, Junsu lives a secluded life in the outskirts of the city. His home is palatial, his guests are few, and his expenses are limited besides the occasional bottle of wine and pound of Wagyu beef. However, thousands of dollars worth of fresh flowers are brought to him on an almost monthly basis, and the delivery people that visit often speak of the lingering, cadaverous scent. Of course, it's easy to convince a small mind with a smile and the offhand remark that the home used to serve as a mortuary. Most people never look beyond a charming smile and an affable personality to find the bodies hidden in the basement—until it's too late.
relationships
lover
name — status — yy.mm.dd
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tracker
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