Work Text:
before
Once upon a time, there was a young man—no, no, that wasn’t right. Where did one even begin in these situations? This story contained many layers, many secrets. There was no proper beginning, and there will be no proper ending.
Once upon a time, a child was born out of wedlock, with his true nature destined to remain a secret. Two people in his life knew, and one of them had taken the secret to the grave many years ago. A secret that child ended up paying the price for every single day, locked in a prison that represented his home. He was born here. Most likely he was going to die here, too.
Growing up, he listened to the inane chatter around him, the maniacal frothing of ones that crusaded against the unclean, un-human ones of the world. Abominations that needed to be cleansed to make the world a better place. There wasn’t a single soul in the building that doubted this crusade—
Except one.
One that was integral to their success. One that was woven deeply into the tapestry of the mission. Dealing in the deepest, darkest secrets kept his own secret hidden from view.
This story started long before this birth, but it was as good a place to start as any.
-
The room stank.
Crowded with men who rarely washed; crowded with men who’d spent the night in a hotel room sharing drinks with pretty ladies; crowded with men who prowled the streets in search of his next victim. Cologne, sweat, sex, blood, shit and piss. Men who hid their dirty habits underneath their spotless suits and their shiny shoes.
Rotten on the outside and the inside.
Jungkook resisted the urge to pinch his nose shut like he used to do as a child. A habit that was quickly broken. “Stop making a scene,” his father had hissed at him one day. “Act presentable. These are important people.” So, Jungkook had obeyed his father and learned to tolerate their rancid odors.
Jungkook still pretended to obey.
However, 28 years later and he was so very tired of the act; he knew his mask was cracking around the edges. His father’s looks turned more calculating, assessing. There was a knowing edge behind them that made Jungkook nervous. One wrong move might bring the ceiling down upon him because if he lost his father’s trust—
Yet he remained reckless, daring the consequences.
His father cleared his throat. Everyone in the room immediately went quiet and turned their gazes towards the man sitting at the head of the table. Disgustingly pious, hanging onto every word. They’d get on their knees for the man, no questions asked. Jungkook sneered down at his iced coffee. His faith in the human species was only dwindling. Nothing but a bunch of mindless sheep, waiting to be led to the slaughter.
Minutes ticked by, crawling like hours. Frustration etched deep into his bones, carving them from the inside-out. Anger vibrated through him; his leg bounced incessantly. Jungkook stared out the window, watching the rain sluicing down the pane of glass to disappear into a puddle of nothing. People talked, argued, and worshiped—all an incessant noise that buzzed uselessly around him. He stared there so long that the weather changed—the rain stopped and the sun appeared from behind the clouds.
Eventually, the meeting was dismissed; he ignored the pointed request to stay behind and left the room. The afternoon’s humidity smacked him in the face when he stepped outside. There was an itch between his shoulders that he couldn’t scratch.
“Keep an eye out. They’re becoming dangerous. More aggressive.”
“More dangerous, my ass,” Jungkook muttered under his breath. “More like you’re getting more stupid.”
The frustration still simmered underneath his skin, but the discouragement was stronger. Day in and day out, Jungkook was stuck with these people. There was no way out. Money wasn’t an issue, but it only got one so far, and then what? Spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder? He wasn’t sure if that was a better alternative.
Jungkook feared he’d be hunted down like an animal.
The sun beat down hot on his shoulders. Jungkook wasn’t doing himself any favors by dressing head to toe in black. Tight jeans, nearly painted on, were sticking uncomfortably. He pushed the shirt sleeves up his arms to expose his tattoo sleeves. Three short blocks to his apartment, the whole time wishing he was walking in a different direction. One that took him further from the crowded city streets.
But it was still daylight; Jungkook wasn’t safe. There were eyes everywhere.
-
After grabbing a few hours of sleep, Jungkook made his way to the convenience store. Sleeping in small chunks was tiring, but it gave him the freedom to be more nocturnal. Helpful, when his job was an overnight shift. The day remained unbearably humid. Sweat collected at his temples, the small of his back. He squinted towards the sun that was hanging lower in the sky before silently sighing. The darkness couldn’t come quick enough.
He yawned as he unlocked the back door and let himself inside.
There were the few odd customers, but most seemed to avoid the store. Most of the faces were familiar—weathered and deeply wrinkled, rough, unkempt facial hair, and cracked lips. They stumbled like the drunks, but their dark eyes were always sharp, knowing. They typically bought very little, made trades without money.
Jungkook saw the looks they gave him when he wasn’t looking—sometimes when he was. Those were the times when he slipped a knife from his pocket and slammed it down on the counter. Most backed away, holding their hands up. “It’s all good, my man,” they’d say and leave with their tails tucked between their legs.
Every day was always the same. Soon, these tests will escalate, but Jungkook was ready for them. He wasn’t afraid of them.
“Get the fuck out, Kwon. I’m tired of your shit tonight.”
“Tough crowd,” the older man sneered. Tonight he especially smelled like cat piss and Jungkook didn’t want to know; Kwon didn’t own a fucking cat. The man started to leave and then held out his hand. “Smoke.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes and fished out a cigarette from his pocket, smacking into his hand. “Fuck off.”
The man leered at him, and Jungkook slammed the front door in his face. Turned the deadbolt with a harsh click, flipped the ragged sign to read closed. It was still early in his shift, but he wasn’t in the mood to hang in this cramped space any longer. Not with this company.
The itch between his shoulder blades persisted, increasing as the night deepened.
Jungkook went out the back door, slamming it shut behind him in his haste. He took the long way home and made sure he wasn’t followed.
-
The night wasn’t much cooler. Humidity clung to the air in a last ditch effort. There was the faint smell of rain in the distance, hours away. Everyone was home, and in bed, with their air conditioners running full blast or suffering a restless sleep with sweat. There was only the rare human out and about in the city, stumbling around. None of them were a threat to the large leopard that silently stalked through the shadows, its coat nearly as black as the deep of night around it.
Freedom.
The leopard moved seamlessly through the night—a figure of the night—as he navigated out of the city.
In the forest, the air was heavy. There was an unnatural stillness in the air. Lifting his head, the leopard briefly scented the air. His large body was silent as he moved through the brush, soon jumping up into the treeline to continue his path, out of sight for his unsuspecting prey.
Soon, he caught the scent he’d been searching for.
It was unfamiliar. One that didn’t belong this deep in the forest at this time of night. This wasn’t a lost hiker. No, this was something far more sinister.
Humans. Hunters.
Their clothes were thick with protection wards, and a magic signature that the leopard was quite familiar with. Frustration tempted him to jump and rip them apart, but wisdom held him back. There were three of them and only one of him. Two were already pushing his limits—cripple one while he took on the other. But that left a third unaccounted for. While the leopard knew their hunting prowess certainly left a lot to be desired, he wasn’t taking any chances.
Their protection wards were of the lowest quality. More or less wearing a sweater vest to a gunfight. They didn’t know how much they were exposed; they were given the same spiel the other hunters got: potent shit, damn near invincible, don’t worry, kill them sons of bitches. No one ever noticed that the hunters never returned.
Sheep to the fucking slaughter, all of them.
They saved the high-quality product for the best of the best—the hunters that made even the leopard turn and run.
These hunters were nothing but a moving target. Wards tainted with the sour stench of their nervous sweat, already wearing weak in places. The leopard might almost feel pity had he not known they were here to exterminate until none of his kind remained. Instead, his heart hardened further, and he silently stalked them, waiting for a mistake.
They walked for a long time, muttering to themselves. Unhappy that they weren’t finding anything. Too loud, too vulnerable.
Bored, the leopard eyed a narrowing of the trees ahead and calculated the risks. He could use the tree for cover, could probably mangle two of them before the shock wore off on the third, or maybe he could toy with them first, maybe force them to separate—they always tasted better when they were terrified. Something about it got their blood pumping with a rich, coppery flavor that made the saliva pool in his mouth.
Another scent caught his nose, and the leopard went still in the trees.
Too fucking close, way within range to be detected. How had he not—
The hunters’ reaction time was much slower—they paused nearly ten seconds later. A lifetime in the matter of life and death. Nothing happened. The forest was silent around them; the leopard could hear the spike of nerves in the humans—one of them gulped, another’s hand trembled on his crossbow as they surveyed for the threat. Tension slowly grew in the air. Even the leopard felt his hackles rise.
Their protection wards were useless against this threat.
The leopard crouched lower, observing, breathing slow and shallow. Unnoticed and nearly undetectable. The being stepped into view. It was in human form—male; handsome, even—but there was nothing human about the scent. But the hunters were fooled and they let their guard down. The leopard smelled the relief that flooded through the veins. They saw no threat.
Imbeciles, the leopard thought and silently bared his teeth at them.
”Now, now, play nice,” a voice chided in his ear. No one had spoken aloud, but the words were crystal clear.
“Shit, my man. You scared the hell out of us,” the tallest hunter spoke to break the heavy silence.
“What are you doing out here? It’s dangerous—”
“It is dangerous,” the being agreed. It—he; this human-not human—had a low voice, rich and masculine. It was such a pleasant tone that completely went at odds with the danger that the rest of his being screamed. “What are you boys doing out here all yourself? You should be in bed, sucking on your mother’s—”
The implication was clear. “You!” A hunter interrupted and rushed towards him. Only to stop suddenly, crumpling into a heap on the ground. The leopard detected no more vitals. The other hunters were too slow to react, were only lifting their weapons—a crossbow and a gun—when they both crumpled as well.
It was over before it even began. The human-not human had remained perfectly still throughout the sequence. No spells? No incantations? Not even a flick of the fucking wrist? A strong scent of burning seared the air, but there was no visible fire. No heat, other than unbearable humidity of the night. There was fucking nothing.
How fucking annoying. His kills were stolen, and in such a boring fashion, at that.
“I didn’t even finish my sentence,” the human-not human complained with a pout. “I was going to say ‘on their mother’s famous hot chocolate’—really, I heard hers is amazing; the blonde one, not the brunette—but ah well. Really messed up the vibe I had going there.”
The leopard remained motionless in the trees. Who was the human-not human talking to? Him? If it was a ploy to coax the leopard out of hiding, it wasn’t working. Not that there was much he could do against a threat like this. One that didn’t even have to lift a finger to— what? There wasn't even the familiar traces of ozone that lingered after someone cast a spell. There was just…
Burning.
The leopard had his suspicions.
The human-not human whistled as he walked away. ”Here kitty, kitty.” The leopard couldn’t tell if it was a taunt or not. ”Enjoy your snack.”
The leopard silently bared his teeth at the retreating figure. Asshole. He remained motionless in the trees for a long time before his gaze shifted to the bodies. Slowly, he pushed himself up and jumped out of the tree, landing gracefully in the brush. Everything living had fled these parts and wouldn’t return for a long while, so the leopard leisurely walked for the bodies, then hunkered down to feed.
Instinct told him the human-not human wouldn’t return.
After feeding, the large cat settled back on his branch and licked the blood from his paws. A leopard could get spoiled not having to kill his own prey to feed. But he missed the rush from the kill, the adrenaline spike that it gave. Tonight, he was too distracted with the unsettling appearance to worry too much about his energy.
The sky lightened, lifting the shadows of the deep night, and that was his cue to leave. The leopard jumped off the branch. He stayed through the shadows as he ran through the city, following the alleys and lines of roof tops. He stopped at a building and darted in through a slightly opened window. Then he straightened up in human form and passed by a mirror, pausing when he caught his reflection.
Jungkook grimaced as he wiped a drop of blood still lingering on his cheek. “Messy,” he chided himself before disappearing deeper into the apartment.