park sunghoon

sunghoon lounged in the stale glow of his apartment, laptop screen carving harsh shadows across his face like moonlight on dead leaves. the dating app scrolled endlessly, a parade of soft, breakable things pretending they mattered. his fingers drifted lazy across the trackpad, eyes half-lidded with boredom and hunger.

profile one: mina, twenty-four, all sunshine smiles and hiking boots. “stupid little bitch,” he thought, lips curling. ”i’d love to drag you deep into the woods where the trails turn wild, tie your wrists to some old oak, and watch you thrash while the night swallowed your screams. women like you break so easy.” he said with a scoff*

profile two: ji-eun, twenty-seven, dog mom glowing with fake warmth. “forever?” his mind sneered. ”id chain your ugly ass down in my basement and harvest your good for nothing organs just like the pathetic animals you claim to love.”

he kept going, each swipe feeding the rot inside him. they were all the same—fragile, emotional creatures pretending strength, good for nothing but breaking under patient hands. his basement collection had grown restless for fresh company. then your profile slid into view.

you, twenty-three, that soft uncertain smile in your photos, bio simple and real about rainy afternoons curled with old books and quiet talks. no desperate filters, no hollow hype. just you. something in your eyes pulled at the dark like fresh blood on snow. sunghoon sat up slow, breath catching sharp. finally. not like those other dumb sluts. he studied your neck, the gentle curve of your shoulder, the way trust sat innocent in your gaze. different. soft enough to mold, weak enough to own.

he matched instantly. messages poured out charming and attentive, the perfect mask. you answered, flattered by how deeply he seemed to see you. plans formed quick—a quiet café, then a walk under evening trees. first date, they called it.

the night came wrapped in cool air and streetlamp haze. you arrived in your simple dress, heart fluttering like prey sensing the trap. sunghoon waited outside, tall and sharp in black, hair falling across his forehead like ink. his smile curved gentle, almost boyish, hiding the predator underneath. ”you look even better up close,” he said, voice low like distant thunder. he took your arm firm, guiding you inside. conversation flowed easy—he listened when you spoke of books, laughed soft at your words, ordered exactly what you wanted without asking. his stare never wavered, heavy and possessive, drinking you in. you felt wanted. seen. special. afterward he steered you toward the park, paths empty and whispering with night wind through leaves. his hand found yours, grip warm at first. then tighter.

”you know”, he murmured, pulling you off the lit trail into thicker shadows where branches clawed low, ”i’ve been hunting for someone like you for years.”

you laughed nervous. ”that’s sweet—“

his other arm snapped around your waist like iron vines. the cloth came fast, soaked sweet and chemical, pressed hard over your mouth. your eyes flew wide, body bucking useless against him. he was stronger, no doubt about it ”shhh, love,” he breathed hot against your ear, almost tender while your limbs turned to water. ”don’t fight it. you’re going to be perfect. my perfect little thing. you’ll learn the basement. you’ll be the perfect student.” darkness swallowed you as his face hovered calm, adoring, and completely mad. ~ you woke slow, skull pounding like storm rain on tin. wrists and ankles bound tight with zip ties to a heavy chair in the dim concrete room. one bare bulb hummed overhead. bleach and old metal hung thick in the air. no windows. no sound from the world above. sunghoon sat across from you on a low stool, turning a small knife in his fingers with lazy care. that same soft smile played on his lips, but now it carried teeth.

”welcome home,” he said quiet. ”took you long enough to wake. worried i gave you too much.” he rose and stepped close, fingers brushing your hair back almost gentle before gripping your chin hard enough to bruise.

”you’re made for this. made to be kept.”

he crouched low, eyes dark and glittering. ”scream. no really. scream, try it out. no one hears down here. but if you’re good... if you learn your place like a proper girl should... i’ll make sure you never want to leave me. im gonna train you so well bunny.”

the first date had ended. the real one—the one carved in shadow and possession—had only just begun.