CHERRY. SHE/HER. CANADIAN. INTJ. JUN BIAS (obv). 8TEEN. MINORS DNI.
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I DO NOT PERMIT ANY OF MY WORK BEING REPUBLISHED ON ANY OTHER PLATFORMS. Nor do I permit ANY forms of translations, rewriting, or any sort of continuations.
Hello friends!!! Sorry for going radio silent the last few weeks, I'm trying to get the slasher summer fics done, but I've been working literally non stop recently. Hopefully I'll have at least ONE out before summer ends, but the fics most likely won't be released in chronological order. Sorry for the delays friends
I've been trying to get the rest of the slasher summer fics to you guys, but I've been working so much recently so I haven't had like any time to write. Unfortunately they probably won't be out before summer ends, but they will be released at one point.
so i just got a job today (i start thursday) so i might not have all of my slasher summer fics out on the deadline i originally planned. i hope to have them all out by august but if they're not, im so sorry. ill try and have them all out on or around their original dates (with around a two day buffer), but i already know that i have to push back frequent flier from it original release date of this coming saturday. sorry for the delay :(
pairing: private investigator!minghao x detective!reader
genre: strangers to coworkers to ???: horror/thriller, angst, smut
cw: smut (mdni!), set in the 1920's, historical inaccuracies ahead, mentions of addiction (gambling), alchohol consumption, smoking (cigarettes), blood & gore, death, cannibalism (briefly mentioned, not really expanded on), probably inaccurate police procedures (idc tho fuck the cops), reader is lowkey an angsty loser but we love her anyway, more of a detective drama than anything, chan is here and we love him, lots of lingo from to 20's (id look up a list, but ill make a guide), s.coups is your chief, minghao is lowk crazy in this, etc.
synopsis: In 1920s Chicago, a cannibalistic killer begins to plague to city. After gunning for the case, a hotshot homicide detective is assigned the case and must work with a hotshot PI to bring the killer to justice.
total wc: 7k+
smut warnings after the cut :3
smut warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), fingering, semi rough sex (minghao is handsy and a bit aggressive but its nothing crazy), the scene is very brief, etc.
lingo guide: clams = money, whoopee = having a good time, breezer = convertible, get sore = get mad, hack = taxi, hacky = taxi driver
a/n: hello again friends! so sorry for the delay on this, i didn't want to rush my rewriting after the doc didn't save, so i hope it was actually worth it. part two of my slasher summer series is finally here! this one is the giallo, which is one of my absolute favourite genres. i really hope i managed to catch the essence of giallo, the way i see it they're all colourful crime dramas, i hope that actually comes across well in this. im really proud of this, i hope everyone enjoys!
also, this is heavily inspired by a ton of different shows and movies including criminal minds (specifically lucky and snake eyes), csi (the og), spider noir, suspiria (and all of argentos movies), and law and order: svu for the most part! i watch a ton of crime dramas, so i get a bunch of inspo from a bunch of places. another shoutout of inspo to the naturals series by jennifer lynn barnes, its probably my favourite book series in the world and i was rereading it while writing this!
Death was something you had known your whole life–you consider it a close friend. As a young girl, you watched as your mother murdered your father. He deserved it, at least that’s how your mother justified it. He drank, like most men do. He yelled at you and your mother, like most men do. But he never got aggressive. Never got violent. Not once did he hit you or your mother. It was confusing as a little girl to watch your loving doting mother hold a knife to your fathers throat. Even more confusing to watch her push it against his skin harder and slit his throat. Your mother stood still as the blood from your fathers neck sprayed out, she never noticed you there, she didn’t know that you watched a smile grow on her face as your father fell to the floor.
Once she had noticed you, her smile faded. Tears stained your little cheeks as your little mouth trembled. “He’s with God now,” your mother had said. She said the same thing in court months later after pleading not guilty. She had said it was his time, that God needed him and as his vessel, she had to take him there. You vaguely remember some old guy calling it psychosis. She was found guilty and was put to death.
After your mother did what she did, you were sent to live with your grandmother, and when you were 10, she went missing. Your grandmother was young for a grandmother, barely into her mid-forties. She was pretty, everyone knew this, and she was also a widow. After the death of your grandfather, a few years before your fathers death, your grandmother struggled to hold herself together. But slowly, throughout the years, she built herself back up. It was inspiring to see as a young girl. You learned that you don’t have to suffer after losing someone you love. You also learned that age does not define desirability.
When she went missing, you were thrown into an orphanage. You never once got any updates on her case, not if the police had any leads, not if they had any suspects in her disappearance. Nothing. So, over time, you forgot about her. You grew up in a tiny orphanage, not allowing anyone to get close to you and you tried to live a normal life. The only constant in your life was death. You never once planned on letting the one normal thing in your life go, so you chose to stick with it.
You should’ve known it was going to be difficult to become a cop, the industry being a boys club and all, but you stuck with it. You faced more hardships in your beginner years as a cop than you could’ve imagined. You had men constantly disrespecting you, hitting on you, making you seem dumber than you are. But you never quit, you couldn’t. And despite the disrespect you faced, nobody could deny your capabilities. In fact, you can recall your asshole of a boss calling you the most capable on your team. That title came with its perks, most notably being scouted by other teams. The homicide unit was the major one that was looking at you, also the most obvious given your history. Once the head of the unit approached you, you took the job as soon as you could, escaping from the boys club you were used to and joining a much more respectful one. One much closer to home.
You often found yourself sitting in random casinos when you weren’t working. You never gambled, you often drank, but mostly you watched. You watched people lose, watched some people win, it didn’t really matter, you just enjoyed watching.
Today, you sat at a roulette table nursing a martini while watching five people lose miserably while protesting their losses by saying, “this next one will be it, it’s the winning roll.” It was something you heard too often and they never won.
A man to your right leaned over to you, his voice low enough that no one else at the table could hear, but loud enough that you could over all of the chatter and music pumping throughout the neon-lit casino. “What’s my bet, darling?” He asked, rolling one of his poker chips between his fingers. You knew exactly what type of man he is–an addict. He would go with whatever you told him to, thinking that the prettiest thing near him was the good luck he needed to finally hit it big. So, you gave him a bet.
Mimicking his posture and tone, you looked him in the eyes and said the first number and colour combination you saw on the roulette board, “17 black.” The man nodded slowly, watching you take a sip of your martini before giving him the final piece of his bet, “all in.” He smirked and nodded again, turning to the dealer at the opposite end of the table.
“All in on 17 black.”
The dealer then spins the wheel, everyone watching around the table as the ball bounced over each number. The wheel slowed, bringing the ball to a stop in one of the slots; 17 black. Everyone cheers and pats the man on the back, you don’t. You stare at the wheel and take another sip of your martini.
“Why aren’t you playing? I’m sure you’d win some clams.” The man asked, sliding closer to you as another gambler placed a bet.
You point to the table as the wheel spins to a stop and the person who just placed a bet groans in defeat, “I like to watch people lose.”
The man beside you laughs, as if you had told the funniest joke in the world, still rolling the chip between his fingers, “I’m sure you’d have better luck with that in Atlantic City.”
It was then that one of the staff of the casino came up behind you, tapping you on the shoulder with a whisper of the word ma’am. You looked up to the staff member as he pointed in the direction of the entrance, where your notably eccentric chief stood. You nodded to the staff member and stood, finishing your martini in a single gulp. You placed the glass back down on the edge of the roulette table and looked at the man beside you, “I don’t believe in luck.”
You weren’t surprised that your chief had found you here, it was common knowledge that you enjoyed watching people throw their hard earned money down the drain. Something about the spectacle of loss eased your mind, but it was more so the mindset of these people that drew you in. They could lose as much money as they had in their wallets and they’d still sit at these tables, at these machines, determined to win it big. It was pathetic. You hated these people and their blind optimism, it’s why you loved to watch them lose. It’s why you became a detective. Killers–at least in your eyes–shared a lot of the same qualities with gamblers. The need to keep going, to place another bet, to take another life. The blind hope that this next bet would win, that they wouldn’t get caught. There was nothing more pathetic to you than being optimistic.
You made your way through the casino, pushing past the losers at the poker tables and the slot machines, and when you finally got to your boss he smiled kindly at you. You didn’t return the smile, he didn’t expect you to. “How are people losing tonight?” He asked, placing a hand in between your shoulder blades and leading you out of the casino into the crisp night air.
“I’m having a whoopee, as always.” You leaned against the outside wall of the casino, basking in the yellow glow of the neon sign. You patted down your pockets, finding your cigarette case and pulling it out. You slipped a cigarette from the case, putting it in between your lips as your boss did the same thing. He went one step further, pulling a matchbook from his shirt pocket and striking a match, lighting his cigarette. He leans towards you, holding the match out to the end of your cigarette.
You both took long drags, inhaling and exhaling to let the smoke billow in the yellow light. Seungcheol stared at you for a brief moment while taking another drag before tapping out the ashes at the end of his cigarette, “we have a case.” He stated, finishing his cigarette and allowing you to finish yours before elaborating. Again, he placed his hand in between your shoulder blades to lead you to his breezer. “Two bodies were found on the south side, one male, one female. They were both missing limbs and solid chunks of their torsos. I’m making you lead,” he explained as he started the car and drove off.
You turned your head to look at him, raising a brow, “I hear a but in there, Choi.”
“But,” He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, making sure to stay focused on the road. “There’s a private investigator that had been hired by lord knows who, you’ll have to work with him.” He took a right turn onto the highway, his speed picking up. The highway was lit brightly with the lamps positioned on both sides, some lamps their standard yellow, some a bright purple. Your hair blew wildly in the wind as Seungcheol’s breezer picked up speed.
You simply chose to ignore his comment, putting it out of your mind and choosing to focus solely on the case. “Tell me more about the murders.” You told him, turning your head to face him. He did exactly that.
Seungcheol explained that each of the bodies had been found in alleyways, the male had been missing both of his arms and his right leg, the female missing both of her legs as well as her left forearm. And like Seungcheol had said before, both had been missing rectangular chunks of their torso. Another thing Seungcheol had taken note of was the fact that neither victim had been identified, and no one had reported them missing. The scenes themselves were obviously just dump sites, Seungcheol noting that there was no blood at either. The only thing out of place at both scenes was a singular poker chip, both of different values, but printed with the same lions head. A clear signature.
By the time Seungcheol had finished debriefing you, you had both arrived at the police station. You both exited his breezer, walking into the station. None of your fellow officers greeted you, but they all made a point to greet your chief. The blatant disrespect used to bother you, more so when you were a petty officer, but when you became a detective, the disrespect only got worse. It started with just ignoring your existence, but as you climbed higher up the corporate ladder, people began to talk behind your back, accusing you of sleeping with Seungcheol in return for your position. They were other rumours, some more plausible than others, but mostly they were completely ridiculous. It was that ridiculous that made you decide to stop paying attention to everyone. Once they realized you were deadset on keeping to yourself, they all chose to ignore you. You didn’t care, it made your job easier. You didn’t have to get close to anyone, didn’t have to care.
Seungcheol led the way through the precinct, straight to your personal office. That was another point of contention, obviously the men thought it was wrong for the only woman officer to have her own office, but you earned it. Fair and fucking square. After all, they aren’t commander, you are. You pushed past Seungcheol in the doorway, walking behind your desk and sitting down, “I’ll need the case file.” You told him, pulling your chair closer to your desk, with a quick glance up at him.
Your desk was covered in files, honestly, it should probably have been a concern. But of course, all of your higher ups (besides Seungcheol obviously) showed absolutely zero respect for you and made you fill out all of the paperwork that they should’ve completed. It was infuriating, especially on top of all of your own paperwork you had to fill out.
Seungcheol eyed the papers on your desk with an eyebrow raised, “I’ll have Chan bring it your way.” You nodded and he grabbed the handle of your office door, closing it behind him as he left, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your many many files.
The crime scene photographs had yet to be developed at this point and unfortunately, you didn’t know who to blame. Normally, the blame would be placed on Chan, the intern of the month, but honestly, you don’t believe for a second that Wonwoo–the crime scene photographer–even gave Chan the film. Wonwoo was forgetful like that.
But even with a big piece of the crime hidden from your sight, you couldn’t even worry about it. Not when you had some strange man walking through your office door without knocking and taking a seat across from you like he belonged there. You chose to ignore his presence until you physically couldn’t anymore, which took a shorter amount of time than usual. He really shouldn’t have put his dirty ass boots on your desk.
You reached forward and pushed his feet off, glaring at him over a stack of files, “if you want my respect,” you started as he moved to put his feet back on your desk, “put your feet on the damn floor.” He put his feet back on the floor, raising his hands in retreat.
You turned back to the case file, flipping through the medical examination reports and whatever else was thrown into the file. There wasn’t much there, most of the papers in the file telling you exactly what Seungcheol had. This was the irritating part of your job, the fact that no one did theirs. The only new piece of information you discovered was a bloody note hidden inside a newspaper from the day before each body was found. With the first body, the unidentified man, the note read “beginner's luck.” With the woman, the note read “winning streak.” It was clear, paired with the poker chip, that the killer was a gambler, or had history with gambling. So you took notes on your theory, writing down your thoughts in a small spiral notebook.
“What’re you writing there?” The man across from you asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on your desk, eyeing you down. You didn’t answer, your eyes flicking back and forth between the case file and your notes. “Oh, come on, sweetheart. Can’t ignore me forever.”
You briefly looked up, your eyes catching his, “I can,” you averted your eyes, finishing your notes, “and I will.” He pointedly rolls his eyes once you look back up at him. You placed your pen down and leaned back in your chair. “I can only assume you’re the private investigator I’m meant to work with?”
He nodded, pushing off your desk to mimic your posture, “you’re a genius.” He said sarcastically. He opened his mouth to say something more, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.
You beckoned for whoever it was to open the door, once again ignoring the cocky PI in front of you. Chan stuck his head through the crack in the door, a small manila folder in his hands, “sorry to interrupt, commander.” He spoke softly. You had always felt bad for Chan, since the day you first met him. He’s a lot younger than most people in the precinct, not that you’re much older than him. He had always been kind to you, mostly because you had always been kind to him, unlike the rest of your fellow officers. Chan respected you, not in the same way Seungcheol did, you suppose. Seungcheol respected you as someone who worked so incredibly hard to command that respect, Chan, on the other hand, respected you as someone who deserved it without question. It was kind of refreshing to witness, the slightest bit of fear you registered in Chan’s voice whenever he spoke to you.
You waved off his comment, to which he gave you a small smile–the slightest flicker of that fear dissolving–and he stepped inside, walking to the side of your desk. He held out the small manila folder to you, “the crime scene photos. Sorry it took so long for me to get these to you, commander.” He bowed his head as you took the folder from his hands. You returned his smile while he straightened out.
“Thank you, Chan.” He bowed once more at your words and turned to the door, making it to the doorframe before you spoke again. “One thing, Chan, before you leave,” he turned to face you, his hand on the doorknob. “Don’t apologize for something that’s not your fault. Everyone here knows that Wonwoo slacks off more than he does his actual job.” You then nodded for him to leave, which he did with a smile.
Once the door was closed behind Chan, you returned your attention back to the PI, placing the folder on top of the file without even opening it. “So,” he spoke, crossing one of his legs over the other, “can you not ignore me for long enough to learn my name?” He asked with a smug grin. There was something condescending about the way he speaks to you. Granted, there was something condescending about the way that everyone spoke to you, but the way he speaks to you, like you’re stupid, like you’re lesser than him. He pissed you off.
You tilted your head at him, smiling to yourself before clearing your throat, “Xu Minghao.” You stated, thoroughly enjoying the way his smug grin fell. “You used to work as a homicide detective out of a precinct in the north of China until you were ultimately fired for letting a killer walk free. You then moved here, to Chicago and started your own private agency, solved a bunch of cases, yadda yadda, now you're here. I’m the best detective in this precinct, you can bet your ass I did my homework.” You pushed yourself out of your chair and grabbed both the case file and the photos. “I also know that you know very little about this case, only what whoever you were hired by told you, so study up. I’ll be getting lunch.” You dropped both items on his lap and left the room.
While you don’t exactly trust Minghao, you do have to give him a bit of credit for how quickly he picked up the details of the case. He wasn’t even close to being on par with you in terms of, well, everything, but he was an okay detective. After you went back to your office, he had immediately started to go over the case files. There was nothing new to discover about the scenes or the bodies, but there was always something new to learn about the killer themselves if you studied the scene long enough.
Minghao and you both had different methods of investigating. You chose to write down your thoughts and theories, while Minghao kept it all in his mind. He would tell you everything he was thinking and you’d put it to paper, it was a pretty efficient system. Despite not really liking each other, you worked well together, at least in an office setting.
“The killer has to be confident, dumping the bodies like that.” He thought out loud, pressing two fingers into his temple gently. You had both been at his for hours, bouncing ideas off of one another to the point that now you were just refining your original thoughts.
You shook your head, staring at the crime scene photos laid out on your desk, the random files now moved to the floor. “If he were confident, he would have killed them there. He just dumped them.” You stated, pointing at the two full body photos of both victims. “A confident killer wouldn’t have to dump, he’d be able to kill in broad daylight fully believing that he wouldn’t get caught.”
He nodded along as you spoke, “but it takes confidence to kill like this, to take limbs and flesh. He’s confident enough to kill, but not confident enough to do anything in public.” He picked up a photo, one from the medical examination, of the back of the Jane Doe’s head. The picture shows a deep gash in the back of her head, an injury she shared with the John Doe. It was clear that the victims had been blitzed, hit upside the head. That was the way he abducted them. That then begged the question, were the blitz attacks something the killer just wanted to do, or had he done it before.
“He’s probably done this before.” Minghao said, as if he had read your mind, “he’s killed people before, but it’s just now that he’s taking limbs. Got any cases like that in all these files?” He asked, dropping the photo back on your desk while gesturing to the stacks of files resting on the floor.
You turned to look at the files, then moved all the crime scene photos out of the way, “let’s figure that out.”
That led to the two of you spending lord knows how many hours looking through files upon files trying to find some case that even slightly resembled the signatures in the case at hand. All of the cases you looked through were equally as disturbing; bodies burned, children murdered in their homes, murdered animals, for most people, it would be too much to read, but it didn’t affect you. Maybe it would’ve, if you hadn’t gone through what you’ve gone through, but you’re jaded now. You didn’t even bat an eye.
You flipped through what was probably your fiftieth case file, getting irritated with the fact that you aren’t getting anywhere. Minghao didn’t seem to be fairing much better, his brows furrowed, eyes squinted, and head down. Frankly this whole situation is getting exhausting, briefly considering the thought that, no, this killer didn’t kill before, these were his first kills. But you didn’t quit, how could you? If you quit, you’d be just like the cops who were supposed to find your grandmother.
You propped your arm up on the desk, resting your head in your hands as you picked up a new file, flipping it open. The first thing in the file was the crime scene photos, clipped to the rest of the papers. You slipped the photos out of the paperclips, spreading the photos on your desk. Most of the photos on your desk were typical photos; the body at the scene, the scene itself, post-autopsy, and so on and so forth. One picture, however, caught your eye. It was of the scene, an alleyway, just like the recent kills, but it wasn’t the alley that intrigued you, it was something in the corner of the photo, slightly concealed underneath a dumpster. On first glance, you could easily miss it, but once your eye caught the colour, you couldn’t ignore it. You wondered if the bright red poker chip was taken as evidence.
You looked through the rest of the pictures as well as the medical examiners reporting, noting that the victim did seem to have been blitzed before their death as well as the fact that the body had been dumped. There was nothing in the report that suggested the victim was missing any flesh, showing that if they were killed by the same killer, they had escalated very quickly. You turned the file towards Minghao, “this one.” He took the file from your hands, cocking an eyebrow towards you as if asking why. You pushed yourself out of your chair, leaning over and pointing at the poker chip hidden underneath the dumpster.
You watched his face contort in understanding and then confusion as he read through the case file. “So, if this is the same killer,” he started, closing the file and placing it on the desk, “why did he make the jump to taking limbs and flesh?”
For the next week, you and Minghao chased random leads, coming up empty on most and the ones that weren’t bogus just helped close other cases. There was only one other case that matched the modus operandi of the one you were actively working and unfortunately you had already discovered it. So you had to explore other avenues. You followed limb and flesh stealing leads expertly found by Chan while Minghao followed the poker chips, now that a third had been found.
Your main goal was to identify the why. Why did he take the limbs? Why did he take the flesh? Was there a reason he had to take both? Did it satisfy some sexual fantasy, or was there something in his head telling him he had to take them? The why was one of the greatest mysteries in your line of work and half of the time it’s never answered.
In your office, you and Chan were sitting at your desk, bouncing ideas off of one another as to why. Chan was convinced the killer was trying to become Frankenstein, collecting limbs and flesh to make someone new. You were leaning more towards sexual gratification being the motive, but honestly, neither sounded right. You had to figure it out, though. The heat is on having found three bodies within a month, this case has to be solved.
“A fetish is a lot more plausible than Frankenstein, Chan.” You rolled your eyes, folding your arms over your chest as Chan shook his head, leaning onto your desk while he flapped his hands, trying to explain why his theory made all the sense in the world.
“Think about it, commander.” He started, standing up and walking to the side of your desk. “The killer took an arm, a leg, and chunks of flesh. If he killed,” Chan paused, bringing his hands in front of him to count on his fingers, “maybe eight more people?” He didn’t sound so confident anymore, but he made up for it with his enthusiasm as he planted both hands on your desk. “Collect the proper parts, sew them together, and boom!” He straightened up and clasped both hands together as he exclaimed boom, “it’s alive!”
You shook your head, but still smiled at him. It was hard to believe someone like Chan, someone so full of life, worked at the same precinct as the most jaded detective in all of Chicago. Even if his theories were a little outside the box.
“Chan,” you started, tilting your head at him, “in what world does it make sense that someone trying to create their own Frankenstein would get limbs from both men and women? If anything, he would stick to one gender.”
Chan narrowed his eyes at you, “it’s Frankenstein’s monster, and maybe he’s making two, the monster needs a wife, right?” He shrugged, sitting back down in the chair across from yours.
You laughed softly, “never change.”
He ran a hand through his hair, “but seriously, is it a fetish? Don’t people with fetishes-”
“Preferental offenders.” You interrupted.
“Don’t preferential offenders typically have a preference? Why would he kill two men and one woman, especially if he has a fetish, it just doesn’t make sense.” He asked, crossing his arms with a sigh.
You leaned back in your chair. Frankly, you were thinking the same thing. A preferential offender, as Chan had said–and as the name implies–has a preference. If he wanted limbs for sexual gratification, he would probably be quite particular in regards to who that limb came from.
“What about,” he grimaced, “could he be eating them?” Chan asked coyly. It was a possibility that no one wanted to consider, but as he said it, you could tell it clicked in his head as the theory that held the most truth, a truth that you could see as well. It was clear as day that this man was cannibalising his victims, whether he himself is eating them or he’s feeding them to others was less clear.
You opened your mouth to respond, but got interrupted by Minghao opening your office door, three small evidence bags in his hand, “I believe I found where the poker chips came from.” He said, closing the door behind him. Chan stood from the chair he was in, offering it up to Minghao and taking a seat on the edge of your desk.
Minghao passed the bags over to Chan, who examined the poker chips in each; the red poker chip from the first murder, the green from the second, and the blue from the third. “Where are they from?” Chan asked, placing the three bags on his lap.
“Some jazz bar in the upper east side. The Lion’s Head.” Minghao explained, “hence the lion head. But I checked it out, the bar itself is just a standard bar, but there’s this interesting little hole in the back wall.”
“A speakeasy?” Chan asked, turning his head to Minghao.
Minghao cocked his eyebrow at Chan, “are you even old enough to know what a speakeasy is?” Chan simply rolled his eyes and gestured for Minghao to continue, “yes, a speakeasy. There’s this whole underground gambling den, they wouldn’t let me down there, but I’m sure if they would’ve, I would’ve bagged those exact same chips.” He pointed at the bags resting on Chan’s lap.
Chan looked down at the bags, cocking his head, “this one was pulled from the first scene right?” He asked, holding up the red chip. You nodded at him, “this one from the last?” He held up the bag with the blue chip.
You nodded again, “what’re you getting at?” You asked, leaning forward.
“Red chips are valued at five dollars, green at twenty-five, blue at fifty. The chips left with each body increase in value.” Chan explained, standing up from the desk and placing the bags down in order. “His signature isn’t just the chips, but also the increasing value.”
Another week of chasing leads and coming up empty. It was now to the point that you all started to lose hope. The norm in the precinct was nobody seeing you, Chan, or Minghao for pretty much the entire workday, the three of you hiding out in your office, trying to solve this case.
Chan groaned, catching both yours and Minghao's attention. You both looked down at him, your faces riddled with confusion as the young intern rolled from his stomach to his back on the floor. “We’re not getting anywhere.” You shook your head, opening your mouth to counter his pessimism, “don’t even try your whole false optimism thing with me, we all know you’re just as pessimistic as I am right now, and all the time, actually.”
“Chan, we just got a lead.” Minghao told Chan, resting his head in his hand which was propped up on the arm of the chair. “You figured out the thing with the chips and the cannibalism.”
“So, in other words, I got you a lead.” He grinned up at Minghao from his spot on the floor. Minghao just nodded in agreement, since there really was no point in arguing that. Chan was the one who made those two discoveries, so really, he deserved more credit than you know he’s going to get.
A knock at the door diverted all of your attention; Minghao turning around in his chair, Chan abruptly standing up, you just raising your head to the door. You beckoned for whoever was on the other end to come in, who happened to be Seungcheol, paired with a worried expression. “Another body has been found.” He sighed, doing a come hither motion with his fingers to you and Minghao, “you two need to get to the scene.”
You stood, grabbing your jacket from the back of your chair and walking to the door, “Chan, you’re with us.”
The scene was nothing you weren’t used to. Another alley, another deceased male, another poker chip. This victim was missing both of his legs and unlike the others, his face was beaten beyond recognition. Right as you all noticed the poker chip, Chan pointed out the value. According to the young intern, the black chips are valued at one hundred dollars. “Why waste the chips?” Chan asked, squatting down to pick the chip up. “This one's a free hundred dollars.”
“It’s a message.” Minghao states.
“But what’s he telling us?” Chan asked, standing up. “He’s a gambler? He’s taking a gamble with these kills?”
You shook your head, taking the chip from his hands, “I think it has something to do with the values. How many chips come after the black one?” You asked Chan.
“Two. Five hundred and one thousand, purple and yellow. At least, that’s typically how it is.”
Minghao stepped forward, taking his eyes off the body and looking at you and Chan, “so, two more victims? Are you sure that’s the message?” He asked, taking the chip from you. You simply shrugged. It was the most obvious message to you at this point, but you’re sure that once you continue investigating, something else will come to you.
Seungcheol stepped up from behind you, looking past you all into the small crowd forming on the sidewalk. He tapped yours and Minghao’s shoulders and subtly pointed to a man in the crowd. The person looked like any regular member of society; dressed like he was either on his way to the office or on his way home. Either way, he didn’t strike you as a person of interest. At least not until you looked down to his hands. Slightly concealed in his palm is a small black object, some gold glinting in the light. From where you stood, it was identical to the poker chip that Minghao was actively shoving back into Chan’s hand.
Minghao called out to the man, asking him to stay where he is and that he just wants to ask him a few questions. The man’s eyes widened–clearly spooked–before he stepped backwards, pushing his way out of the crowd and sprinting down the road.
You were quick to follow, ducking under the police tape and pushing through the crowd. You had always been a fast runner, breaking a record in your gym class in high school. You caught up to the man easily, only a few seconds behind him as he tried his hardest to get away. A shout from behind you caught your attention–Minghao closing in on the two of you and telling you to move aside, he has him. You moved to the edge of the sidewalk, seeing Minghao in your periphery, he brought his arm up to–you could only assume–pat you on the shoulder, but he fully pushed you onto the road.
Minghao turned to you, stopping right there in the road before doubling back. You sat up from your spot on the road, “the fuck are you doing, Xu?” You yelled, pointing in the general direction that the suspect had vanished in, “go get him!”
He didn’t, kneeling down to you, profusely apologizing for pushing you while Chan ran past the two of you and down the road, trying to find the suspect. You stood up, grabbing Minghao by his lapels and pulling him up with you. You let go of him and raised your hand, striking it across his cheek.
You often found yourself sitting in random casinos when you were stressed or pissed. So of course, you sat at a roulette table, nursing a martini, watching people lose. How could you not? After losing yourself, you deserve to watch the losses of other people.
You now fully understood exactly why Minghao had been fired from his job back in China. He let a killer go free then and he let it happen again here. You tried so hard not to care about what he did, but this case would have been solved had he not pushed you. You could’ve had the culprit in your hands, could’ve arrested him. So, you got sore at Minghao, you screamed at him, even hit him, but he didn’t even bat an eye. He just took it, and that pissed you off even more.
So, you left. You left the precinct and came back down to the same casino you’ve gone to for the last couple of months. You were on your third martini, which was almost empty. You weren’t just gonna leave the drinks, after all, the guy sat beside you so kindly offered to keep buying them. Conveniently, the man sitting beside you today is also the man who sat beside you now over two weeks ago, you’re sure he didn’t remember you, though. The drinks he keeps buying you do come with one condition, you have to place his bets for him.
17 black, 36 red, 22 black, 32 red, somehow, each and every bet you placed for him happened to be a winning bet. You’ve never believed in luck, especially not now, since you got placed with the most irritating partner on planet earth, but maybe you were a bit lucky, at least to this strange man.
“You’re my lucky charm, girlie.” He flashed a crooked grin towards you, sliding a poker chip in front of you. You took another sip of your martini and placed it back on the edge of the roulette table, looking down at the chip. It had to be a coincidence, or maybe you were just very lucky. In the center of the chip was a gold lion's head, identical to the ones on the chip found on the bodies.
You looked up to the nameless man beside you, a smile of pure gratitude on your face, “actually,” you started, pushing yourself up and away from the table, “you might be my lucky charm.” You didn’t stay long enough to hear his response, walking away from the table and out of the casino.
On the street corner, you waved your hand out in the road, until a hack finally pulled up. You climbed into the backseat, the poker chip in hand as the hacky drove off in the direction you instructed. The drive was long, with you recklessly fidgeting in the backseat, running your nails through the ridges of the poker chip.
The building the hacky parked in front of is probably one of the nicest in the entire southside; a grand apartment complex with a dark oak door and stone gargoyles carved into the stone pillars on the railing. You knew Minghao lived on the southside–having found out when Seungcheol gave you his file–but you hadn’t assumed he lived somewhere as nice as this. Call it personal prejudice.
You pulled out your wallet, quickly throwing a few clams at the hacky before climbing out and running to the door. It opened easily, and fortunately for you, there was no one sitting at the front desk, so you ran straight down the hall to 1E, Minghao’s apartment.
It was much too late for you to be banging on his door the way you were, but you did it anyway. Luckily for you, Minghao happened to still be awake, opening his door with an angered expression. “Why are you here?” He questioned, glaring at you.
You lifted your hand, showing him the poker chip. He cocked his head in confusion, “look at the symbol. It’s the exact same as the ones left at the scene.” You pushed your way into his apartment, kicking off your shoes at the door and leaning against his kitchen counter. “It’s from a casino called The Lion’s Den. Not that jazz bar. Four chips from the same casino.”
He closed the door, walking up to you, “The Lion’s Den?” He cocked his head, “how does this help us?”
“How does this-” You scoffed, “we know where he preys on his victims. But, apparently this isn’t useful because it helps us catch him. It doesn’t let him get away.”
He shook his head, “I didn’t let him do shit. I stopped to help you.”
“Help me?” You scoffed, again. “You pushed me to the ground. What? Did you do that to purposely stop? Are you working with him or something?” You shouted, pushing off the counter, stepping closer to him. You were now almost fully face to face with him, watching as the anger appeared to fade from his face.
He opened his mouth, as if he was going to speak, but closed his mouth as his eyes flicked down to your lips briefly. “I just wanted to help you.” He whispered, stepping closer to you. You backed up, your back hitting the counter. He planted his hands on the counter, one on either side of you. You stared up at him, something about the shift in atmosphere leaving your mouth dry.
His eyes flicked back down to your lips and they back to your eyes, before he muttered fuck it under his breath and leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. From the second you connected, the kiss was heated, his hands moving to your waist, slipping underneath your shirt. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.
It isn’t right, you know it. This isn’t why you’re here, but there’s one thing about you that hasn’t changed in all your years as a detective; you’ll do whatever you have to do to solve a case.
He slipped his hands higher up your body, his fingers finding the clasp of your bra and undoing it swiftly. He pushed up your shirt, pushing you back for a moment to remove your shirt fully, your bra following shortly after. You pulled him back into you, his hands travelling down to your ass before slipping underneath your thighs and lifting you up. He pulled you away from the counter, carrying you down the hallway to his bedroom.
He kicked the door closed behind him, throwing you down on his bed. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at you before he slowly started to undo his shirt. Once his shirt was off and thrown to the floor, he reached forward, undoing your pants and yanking them off alongside your panties, leaving you completely naked in front of him. He ran his hands up the inside of your thighs, ghosting his fingers over your bare cunt.
He watched as you shivered under his touch, the smallest noise releasing from your mouth. He smirked, finally pressing the pad of his thumb against your clit and rubbing circles into it. His other hand also slipped in between your thighs, two of his fingers pressing into you.
His fingers pistoned in and out of you at a pace you couldn’t even comprehend, it felt as if Minghao was trying to pull every ounce of stress out of you with his fingers alone. He didn’t say a word, just kept his fingers thrusting in and out of you while you whimpered and writhed under his touch.
Suddenly, he removed his fingers, standing up from the end of the bed and making a show of licking his fingers clean. He let out a low moan as he pulled his fingers from his mouth, his other hand undoing his belt and throwing it on the ground. He pulled the rest of his clothes off full and crawled on top of you, lining himself up and pushing in.
You shifted in bed, turning to face Minghao as he slept. You reached over and poked his arm, making sure he was asleep before getting out of bed and putting your panties and pants back on. You quietly left the room, finding your bra and shirt in the kitchen and fully redressing yourself.
You walked to the front door, slipping your shoes back on and looking out the peephole. On the other side was Seungcheol, Chan, and a few others from your precinct, just like it had been planned.
It was when Minghao had pushed you out of the way that you realized his involvement in the case. It wasn’t a coincidence that he had a reputation for letting killers go. So, you took a weekly trip to the casino, this time, not alone. Seungcheol had joined you, the two of you connecting the dots. While at the casino bar, a poker chip caught your eye, more specifically the glistening lion head.
It was then you planned the undercover operation. You were to find some way into his house, subdue him in an unsuspecting way, then let your fellow detectives into the apartment. It’s gone completely according to plan, even more so that as Seungcheol led the investigation of his apartment, a dark room was discovered in the back of the apartment, full of developing film of each victim.
As difficult as the case had seemed at the beginning, it was now open and shut, the killer himself crawling into your lap. You didn’t believe in luck, never have, but today, you really did seem to be the luckiest person on planet earth.
trying to get eat your young to you all within the next few hours, but a good chunk of the doc didn't and i just found out about it this morning, so im trying to rewrite all the stuff that didn't save. hopefully i can have it finished by tonight, if not, it WILL be out tomorrow i promise!!!!
also, unfortunately my docs also did not save ANYTHING i wrote for the rest of the slasher summer fics, so there probably won't be any teaser until we get the later fics.
im so sorry for the inconvenience with this, but the fics WILL BE RELEASED I PROMISE YALL!!!!!!
pairing: private investigator!minghao x detective!reader
genre: strangers to coworkers to ???: horror/thriller, angst, smut
cw: smut (mdni!), set in the 1920's, historical inaccuracies ahead, blood & gore, death, cannibalism, probably inaccurate police procedures (idc tho fuck the cops), reader is lowkey an angsty loser but we love her anyway, more of a detective drama than anything, etc. more may be added once the fic is fully released
synopsis: In 1920s Chicago, a cannibalistic killer begins to plague to city. After gunning for the case, a hotshot homicide detective is assigned the case and must work with a hotshot PI to bring the killer to justice.
total wc: approx 5k+
teaser wc: 427
release date: June 13th
smut warnings after the cut :3
smut warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), fingering, oral (m&f. rec), semi rough sex, biting, lil bit of possessiveness, etc. more may be added once the fic is fully released
a/n: whaddup!!!!!! im so hyped for this fic. this is the second fic in my slasher summer series and its based off of one of my favourite slasher subgenres: the giallo!! suspiria (1977) is one of my fave movies of all time, so shoutout supsiria. thank you all for the support on this series so far, im having the most fun writing everything, and i will be dropping more teasers soon, i promise! (ive tried to get things out to you earlier, but im trying to get a job rn [struggling more like it] so ive been pretty busy, my apologies!) the taglist for this series is open and will be linked at the end, you can also comment to be added to the taglist of this specific fic, but i do recommend looking at the taglist form since it has all 13 fics :) love u all 🍒
Death was something you had known your whole life–you consider it a close friend. As a young girl, you watched as your mother murdered your father. He deserved it, at least that’s how your mother justified it. He drank, like most men do. He yelled at you and your mother, like most men do. But he never got aggressive. Never got violent. Not once did he hit you or your mother. It was confusing as a little girl to watch your loving doting mother hold a knife to your fathers throat. Even more confusing to watch her push it against his skin harder and slit his throat. Your mother stood still as the blood from your fathers neck sprayed out, she never noticed you there, she didn’t know that you watched a smile grow on her face as your father fell to the floor.
Once she had noticed you, her smile faded. Tears stained your little cheeks as your little mouth trembled. “He’s with God now,” your mother had said. She said the same thing in court months later after pleading not guilty. She had said it was his time, that God needed him and as his vessel, she had to take him there. You vaguely remember some old guy calling it psychosis. She was found guilty and was put to death.
After your mother did what she did, you were sent to live with your grandmother, and when you were 10, she went missing. Your grandmother was young for a grandmother, barely into her mid-forties. She was pretty, everyone knew this, and she was also a widow. After the death of your grandfather, a few years before your fathers death, your grandmother struggled to hold herself together. But slowly, throughout the years, she built herself back up. It was inspiring to see as a young girl. You learned that you don’t have to suffer after losing someone you love. You also learned that age does not define desirability.
When she went missing, you were thrown into an orphanage. You never once got any updates on her case, not if the police had any leads, not if they had any suspects in her disappearance. Nothing. So, over time, you forgot about her. You grew up in a tiny orphanage, not allowing anyone to get close to you and you tried to live a normal life. The only constant in your life was death. You never once planned on letting the one normal thing in your life go, so you chose to stick with it.
a/n 2: as i said before, the taglist is open! if you're interested, please comment and let me know, joing the taglist via the slasher summer taglist form, or even join my perm taglist!!! reminder that if you're interested in joining my taglist, you MUST have an indicator on your blog showing that you're over 18, or you will not be added.
cw: set in the 1500s, historical inaccuracies ahead, NOT omegaverse (cannot stress this enough), blood & brief gore (nothing too in depth, but still there), death, body horror, probably inaccurate lycanthrope/werewolf lore, my take on lycanthropes (im full on making shit up), can lycans hypnotize people?? idk but they can here!!!!, beauty & the beast retelling (in a vague way), nobody speaks for the first like 2k words (im sorry, it wasnt supposed to be this way), open ending/cliffhanger (don't hate me), etc.
synopsis: In the 1500s before the world had yet to be civilized, a small settlement is haunted by the brutal mutilation of townsfolk. Some believe the deaths are the result of animals, others, the more spiritual of the townsfolk believe the deaths were at the hand of something more vicious, something more human.
total wc: 5k+
continue reading under the cut. viewer discretion is advised.
a/n: and the first slasher summer fic is here!!!! i know the teaser contained smut warnings, but i realized that it didn't really fit in with the plot i had in mind, so i scrapped it. im so excited for this, its been so much fun to write, as have the other fics. im working on getting all the rest of the teasers to you all, but i might not post all of them, maybe two or three more, we'll have to see. as is with the rest of my work, this is unedited and unbeta'd, however, if anyone was interested in beta reading my work, let me know, im more than open to making a few friends in the caratblr space :3 thank you all for reading, see you next saturday 🍒
6/6/1503.
Somewhere, deep in the woods of the northern New World sits a settlement. One small enough to house the small sum of one hundred and seventy five settlers, but large enough to be displayed on a map, to be seen from the skies, if that were even possible. This settlement, Bromwich, was home to many families and few on their lonesome. In the morning, the settlement is quaint, a soft mist coating the ground as a few farmers left their small homes to tend to the earth and its creatures. In the night, the settlement isn’t much different, dimly lit lanterns illuminating the man-made paths as the children followed their parents to their homesteads, tucking in for the night, leaving the settlement almost completely quiet, except for the howling of wolves deeper into the wood.
A few remained out of their homes at night, some even working through the night to the morning. Most felt they had to; the blacksmiths who insisted on completing their work so no one had to wait for their metal works, the apothecaries who felt that collecting herbs and ingredients at night was more productive than in the morning, a few children who would sneak out to play in the wheat fields, but mostly the hunters who would leave late at night and return a few days later with their game in tow. It was never odd for these hunters to not return for days, or even weeks at a time. It was the disappearance of the head of the Choi household that led to suspicions arising throughout the settlement. It wasn’t until Master Choi’s body was discovered torn to shreds by the treeline that a curfew was set, not only for hunters, but everyone in the settlement. While most could rest easy with the knowledge that Master Choi was either mauled by a bear or maybe even a wolf, the more spiritual of the settlement began to theorize.
Many elders were overheard speaking of a monster–some wretched thing that was both human and beast–that scared the children. Soon enough, the elders were forbidden from speaking of such a thing, and soon after that, another hunter went missing. Master Jeon, much like Master Choi, was an expert hunter, so his disappearance came as a shock to everyone. What didn’t come as a shock, however, was when his body was discovered along the treeline, even more mutilated than Master Choi’s. Both deaths were felt deeply within the settlement, the funerals beginning to pile up as more and more hunters were found mutilated. The elders told more tales of the half-man half-beast purging the settlement of its hunters. Everyone was on edge and terrified of what was happening. It wasn’t long until only one hunter remained, the families of the others left widowed and fatherless.
Master Kim was never worried about bears, or wolves, or half-human half-beasts. He was convinced he was above dying like all the others. He would go out and kill a rabbit, and maybe if he was lucky, a deer or a moose. And most of all, he would come back. He wouldn’t leave his wife a widow, his son without a father, he would be different. So he set out with his wheellock gun, a kiss on his wife's cheek, and a pat on his son’s shoulder with a goal in mind. And he returned three weeks later on the treeline, just like the rest of them.
It wasn’t you. Not then at least.
Back then you were only a child, sure, it was in your blood, but you weren’t nearly strong enough to do what was done. It was your parents who feasted before you did. In the middle of the night, when the settlement was asleep, they would sneak out to the woods and no one would see them for days.
No one ever suspected them, you told others they were ill. A child like you had no reason to lie, so you were easily believed. During that time, you would be at home, hiding silver in every nook and cranny, putting dried wolfsbane into every herb in the kitchen. You were told to, of course. A young child should always do what they’re told. When you asked why you had to do these things, your parents always told you the same thing, you weren’t allowed to become like them.
Your parents turned up on the edge of the forest the same way all the others had, torn apart, mutilated, barely recognizable. You had to make an attempt at an identification, but you didn’t even need to see them to know it was them.
You think they would be proud of the woman you’ve become. You turned out different. You’re stronger than they were. After all, you were able to overpower them.
6/9/1526
Mingyu was well aware of the responsibilities bestowed onto him. After the death of his father when he was six years old, he was told that in the future he would become head hunter. And now, twenty three years later, he is responsible for almost everything when it comes to hunting. He’s gained the title of head hunter and the respect that comes along with it. He’s the one who goes out and when he can’t, he sends someone else out. He’s also the one who shuts down the rumors and the talk of these half-human half-beasts, which in the last twenty three years, have slowly gained the name of a lycanthrope or simply just a lycan. It was the library keepers, the apothecaries, and the priests who named the monster this, and soon enough, Bromwich was riddled with constant terror.
The children feared every noise late at night, mothers feared allowing their sons to join Mingyu on his hunting trips, library keepers handed out parchment with tales of these lycanthropes, apothecaries sold bundles of herbs said to ward of this new evil, and priests held daily sermons to banish these demons back to whence they came. If anyone spoke to anyone in Bromwich, they would be told that there is only one who fears not the forests’ evil; Kim Mingyu. The bestowment of many a responsibility since the death of his father has left him with the same fearless attitude Master Kim held. He has to be fearless, he has no choice. If there is not one the settlement can bestow their faith upon, the settlement would fall apart. The people need a head hunter. If he wasn’t there, the settlement would be plagued with starvation, the settlement would be defenseless, Bromwich would be no more. The people relied on Mingyu.
While he was responsible for putting the rumors of lyncanthropes to rest, Mingyu did believe that the tales contained some truth. Many hunters–and even normal settlers–have died horrific deaths on the edge of the forest, unlike the deaths of helpless prey found scattered in the woods. These people were found mutilated, brutalised, killed in ways that no normal beast could kill. It left much to the imagination. Were these people killed by a lycanthrope or was it just an animal that was yet to be discovered? Mingyu wasn’t quite sure and it wasn’t his job to be sure of something so profane.
The early mornings in the settlement had always been Mingyu’s favourite, ever since he was a child. Something about the thick mist covering the grounds, the birds calling from the skyline, and the calm quiet that was perfect to him. Just as the sun rose above the bloodied treeline, Mingyu awoke from sleep and ventured out of his small home. The air was always cold in the morning, despite the weather growing warmer with each passing day.
Instinctively, Mingyu glanced over to the treeline, his eyes following the small footpath each hunter would use to make their way into the woods. A feeling of unease set itself deep into Mingyu’s soul, as if the trees themselves were whispering dark secrets directly to him. It had been merely six days since he sent the last hunter out, a man only a few years younger than Mingyu, as well as the only son of the Lee family. He was given only five days in the woods with the strictest instructions to return by yesterday, but he didn’t. Mingyu told Master Lee not to worry, for if he did not return by Sunday, Mingyu himself would make his way into the forest to search for the man.
It wasn’t yet Sunday, but the fear that had rooted itself deep into Mingyu’s bones as he stared off at the trees was too potent to ignore. The settlement wasn’t yet awake, so Mingyu told nobody before slipping his hand through the front door of his home, grabbing his wheellock gun, and walking off towards the woods. The path is one he knows well; the flattened, dead grass winding this way and that, branching off in three different directions to guide the way to three different hunting trails. Mingyu travelled through the third, the same one taken by Master Lee’s son six days ago. The trail shows no signs of having been travelled in the past few days, not even a fading footprint in the mud from a few days prior.
However, one thing stood out in Mingyu’s mind, and it had nothing to do with the path itself. As head hunter, Mingyu mastered all skills in regards to hunting at a very young age. No one in the settlement could track like him, aim like him, or do really anything like him. Truly, no one was better at hunting than Kim Mingyu. As he walked the trail, Mingyu noted a single thing in his mind; it was completely silent. Not one rodent scurrying about in the grass, no bird flying overhead, not even a lone deer hiding in the treeline. It did nothing to ease his fears. Fears that only proved to be highly warranted as the stench of death wafted through the morning air. Best case scenario, the source of the smell would be a dead animal facing the worst stage of the circle of life. But that worst case scenario didn’t leave Mingyu’s mind as he walked closer to the treeline.
And Mingyu’s deepest fears came true as the gruesome sight of a mutilated body came into his eyeline. A body so mutilated that, had Mingyu not sent him out himself, he wouldn’t even be sure belonged to Master Lee’s son. He wanted so much for it to not be Master Lee’s son, but he knew better than to get his hopes up in regards to this cursed settlement.
He was nice, you never wanted him. You considered him a friend, but after all, he was the one on a hunt and you were so hungry, you just couldn’t ignore the urges anymore. That was one of the most difficult parts, the hunger, the want.
It was days later when you wandered back into the settlement and was forced to look everyone in the eyes, forced to look Master Lee in the eyes. It was devastating, watching everyone you know cry into each other's shoulders, Master Lee and the rest of the men trying so hard to remain stoic. It was Mingyu’s face that burned the most, even more so than the silver around your neck.
He avoided the eyes of everyone, as he always did. You could smell his guilt before you even left the woods, after all, he was the one who found most of them, he was the one who sent them to the woods. Even if he didn’t send them out or find them, you could tell that Mingyu would feel guilty no matter what.
You learned to never share that sentiment. Of course you felt bad, but the hunger always overpowers the guilt.
6/12/1527
As time slowly passed by, the settlement grew more and more terrified. In the twenty three years after the death of Master Kim, the settlement lost around fifteen townsfolk. In the year since the death of Master Lee’s son, the settlement fell to around fifty townsfolk–half of what it was twenty years prior. With the population dropping, everyone demanded action. The priests prayed to the extent of the God they believed in, the apothecaries left evil-warding hex bags in the window ledges of every home, the library keepers travelled to neighboring settlements, warning them of the evil that could come knocking on their doors.
It’s midnight now as Mingyu is pulled out of his sleep. Inside his home it’s eerily quiet, mimicking the stillness of the world outside. Mingyu reminds himself that it’s not entirely unusual for the world to be so quiet, especially at this hour, but it still sends a chill down his spine as he sits up in bed. Maybe it’s the wind blowing into his room that urged his attention towards the window, or maybe it’s the quiet howling he hears echoing through the woods, but he found himself standing at his window, staring out at the night sky, his eyes pointed straight at the woods.
Pulling a jacket over his shoulders, Mingyu slipped through the front door of his home and made his way through the footpath to the woods. The howling he heard through his window got louder and louder as he got closer to the edge of the woods, echoing through the trees. Mingyu paused at the treeline, staring off into the dense brush as if he were in a trance. Another loud howl sounded from deep within the woods, almost like the beast was calling Mingyu towards it, to its domain, its lair.
Mingyu briefly turned to face the settlement, almost completely invisible in the black of the night, before turning back to the woods after another howl echoed. He followed the sound into the thick of the trees. With no path to lead him, Mingyu was unsure of if he would make it back. Even if there was a path, would he survive the night after seeing the beast with his own eyes. Would the animal–or if the townsfolk were to be believed, the lycanthrope–just let him catch a glimpse of it and then wander back home? Or would the beast mutilate him next? Suddenly becoming all too aware of the risk he was taking, Mingyu turned back towards the settlement and took one step home. The beast then howled again, hypnotizing Mingyu with its call and pulling him back in its direction.
In the silence between every howl, Mingyu reminded himself of the horrors this beast has committed, he reminded himself of the friends, the family, he has lost and he turns back to his home. But it’s then, after that first step in the opposite direction that Mingyu is entranced by the beast's howl and pulled back in its direction. The echo of the call throughout the trees makes Mingyu’s head spin, if only the beast could say where it is, tell him exactly where to go, but it doesn’t. It simply howls again and Mingyu follows the best he can.
When the echo gets fainter and the call itself becomes more prominent, Mingyu realizes he’s on the right path. Not once in this journey had he looked down, if this were a hunt, he would have. He would have tried to follow the tracks, the footprint the animal left behind, but he let the call of the beast lead him. Stopping in his tracks, Mingyu let his eyes drift down to the forest floor and in the darkness of the night, his eyes caught the print of what looked to be a wolf paw. He was all too familiar with the tracks of predator animals, but this print was unlike any wolf he had tracked. The print was far too large, almost similar in size to that of a bear. What really caught Mingyu’s attention was the faint print of the claw, larger than any animal claw he had ever seen, the base two inches away from the base.
He crouched down to run his finger along the ridge of the print, memorizing the shape. It was only then that he realized that the howling had stopped. The forest was now completely quiet, not even the sound of any crickets chirping could be heard. Something not too far in the distance caught Mingyu’s attention, his head snapping towards whatever it was. As his eyes focused back on the vast darkness ahead of him, Mingyu watched as the moonlight reflected off of something in the near distance. He squinted, slowly focusing on the reflection, realizing then that he was staring into the eyes of the beast he had longed to see.
The large eyes of the beast slowly came into full view, as did its snout, long and wide with a snarl more terrifying than any animal Mingyu had ever seen. The beast took one step forward, its large paw drawing closer to Mingyu’s crouching form. He then stood, watching as the beast's eyes followed his movements. He took in the animal's stature: it looked just like a wolf, but its size was much larger. It was bony, as if it hadn’t eaten in months, but Mingyu knew that to be false.
Something in the beast’s eyes sent a shiver down Mingyu’s spine. The eyes, which upon first glance were that of a wolf’s, shared the same spark that Mingyu had seen in many people within the settlement. Something more human than a beast like this should ever carry.
Mingyu extended his hands in front of him as he began to back up, watching the beasts snarl become somehow even more grizzly. A voice in Mingyu’s head told him to walk towards the beast, not away, but he knew better. “Please,” he whispered, stepping away from the wolf, “let me go.” Almost as if the beast felt an ounce of sympathy for the hunter in front of him, the animal bowed its head and took a step back, allowing for Mingyu to turn and run back towards the settlement.
He ran straight back to his home, briefly collapsing against the side before pushing himself up and quietly walking inside. Lying in bed, Mingyu thought back to the beast’s enchanting howl, how it so easily lured him to its domain and how it easily could have taken his life like he was sure it took the lives of the others, but it spared him upon his asking. He couldn’t help but wonder why.
Why would it let him go?
Something wasn’t right.
You’re hungry, like you’ve never been before. You had to feast. But you let him go, why?
There’s nothing more painful than the transformation. It starts with the hunger, the overwhelming urge to tear your teeth into something warm, something living. The thirst came next, almost stronger than the hunger. You needed to taste them, to feel the warmth of their blood engulfing your senses, even the thought of feasting sent you into a frenzy.
That's when the change began. You wandered into the forest, into a cave that you had been familiar with since you first learned about what you are. You chained yourself to the stone and let it take you.
Your blood boiled beneath your veins, your bones breaking, reforming, somehow growing larger, too large for your small frame. Every part of your body burned and broke, every bit of you shattering and reshaping you into a monster, something that yearned for flesh and blood, something that needed to kill.
The change took a long time, the exact length you weren’t sure. You typically woke up still in chains, your vision was different, canine. It took a while to adjust to it, but after so many transformations, the adjustment became easier.
This time, you weren’t shackled. You never were when you needed to feast.
Your howl lured him in, it’s why you called. If you didn’t, he wouldn’t have come to you.
He was right there, staring into your eyes, it felt like he was looking into your soul. If you got just the slightest bit closer, he would have been yours. Would have kept you fed for so long. But he asked, pleaded to you, to be let go. And you did, you let him go.
You only hoped he hadn’t seen your eyes in it’s.
6/15/1527
A decision was made. Mingyu made it on his own, without telling anyone what he had seen. The beast was no longer the problem of anyone in the settlement. It wasn’t anyone's problem but his. The townsfolk protested, especially his mother, but his mind was made up. “Please,” she cried as Mingyu wandered around the house, filling a small knapsack with supplies for his hunting trip, “you mustn't go. We’ve lost too many, I lost your father. I can’t lose my only son as well.” Tears were now streaming down her face.
Mingyu closed his knapsack and turned to face his mother, “that’s exactly why I must; we’ve lost too many. This beast has taken too much from us, mother. It needs to die.” The way he spoke managed to calm the nerves of his dear mother, but the words he spoke were not exactly truth. He knew exactly what he wanted. And while he did want the beast to die, he wanted to know why it spared him. He wanted to know why it lured him to its domain just to let him go.
So he finished packing his knapsack and he left. It was early enough in the morning that the only people awake were the farmers who had an early harvest. A few said their farewells as Mingyu walked past, but it was clear they didn’t expect his return. He was sure that once his mother told people around the settlement of his departure, the whole settlement would begin to mourn him.
Mingyu knew that the chance of catching the beast this early in the day was slim, so he had planned prior to start his hunt by looking for the beast's home, wherever it may be. At the treeline, Mingyu hadn’t noticed anything noteworthy except for a few footprints. The footprints were smaller than Mingyu’s own, his thought being that they either belonged to one of the many women in the settlement or maybe one of the adolescent boys. He simply assumed that the boys had ventured too far while playing, something they got scolded for regularly.
He continued onward, growing wearier by the minute. The woods were silent, no animals wandering and breaking twigs as they did, no birds chirping from the trees, no bugs making their small sounds on the forest floor. The silence reminded Mingyu of the day he found Master Lee’s son, the days he found everyone else. He didn’t let his weariness ward him off, choosing instead to walk deeper into the woods, into more silence. He looked down at his feet, staring at an all too familiar paw print in the dirt. He squats down and presses his fingers into the soft dirt, “I will find you, beast.” He whispers to himself, looking up from the paw print to find a path marked by even more pawprints.
He stands back up and walks alongside the path of paw prints, leading him to a large rock structure, complete with an opening right in the front. The paw prints slowly faded as the dirt transitioned to stone, a few faint prints leading into the cave. As Mingyu slowly approached the entrance, he heard visceral growls and groans echoing through the cave. He slipped his knapsack off his back, pulling out his wheellock gun and quietly slipping into the rocks, following the echoes deeper and deeper into the caves, the noises growing louder. The echoing of the growls blended in with the source as Mingyu approached, until he found himself peaking around the corner of a stone wall.
It was too soon. You shouldn’t have changed so soon after your last. You were warned by your parents years ago that if you changed multiple times in such close intervals, your body may break down, your bones may shatter, and the worst ending for you being the possibility of the change becoming permanent.
You struggled with the hunger, you always had. You shouldn’t have let him walk, if you had just feasted, you wouldn’t be here.
This change was a last minute decision, you left as early in the morning as you could, earlier than anyone would be awake. You made you way into the cave and unsuccessfully made an attempt of chaining yourself to the stone before the change happened. You shouldn’t have changed, you know that, but you were just so hungry.
Now, you made your way back to the cave, your animal form resting on the cool stone before the second change began.
The coolness of the stone provided some relief from your bodys increase in temperature as the change began. You begin clawing at your fur, a pathetic, animalistic attempt to pull yourself out of your own skin, the heat becoming unbearable. Your breath comes out in short pants in between distressed whines.
Then comes the pain. You plant your paws in the stone, ignoring the sweltering heat as the space between your skin and your bones filled with pressure, your bones pushing the pressure outwards as your skin forced it back. It felt as if your entire no longer belonged to you, changing in a way that even God himself wouldn’t be able to comprehend. Your whines were now pained growls, the sound fading from the tone of an animal to that of a human. All five of your senses were heightened, your ears twitching at the soft and slow sound of something approaching, your mouth wide open and drooling at the scent of human blood coursing through your stalkers veins. It was hard not to turn and feast, but it was even harder to face this change.
You pressed your feet even harder into the stone, pressing harder and harder until the bones in your front legs snapped. You let out a shrill scream, the scream of a human, as you collapsed to the ground, your ribs breaking as you made contact with the stone.
You turned onto your side, panting and whining as the pain overwhelmed your body. Your eyes then found another pair. The eyes you stared into were all too familiar to you. Mingyu turned the corner in shock, slowly approaching you with wide eyes. He kneeled down beside you, extending his hand and placing it beside your paw.
Your eyes traveled down to where his hand was placed, then to your paw. You watched as the fur covering your paw retracted into your skin and the bones cracked and grew. Mingyu watched in horror as your bones changed from that of paws to a human hand, your skin pulling to fit the shape.
The rest of your body then followed suit: fur retracting, bones reshaping, skin pulling. The process left you naked, sweating, and whimpering on the stone floor.
06/15/1527
Mingyu couldn’t believe his eyes. For over twenty years, the people in the settlement theorized about what could possibly be causing the terror they faced: a wolf, a bear, a scorned man, a lycanthrope. Never did Mingyu believe that the most fantastical of the theories would be correct. Whether you were a lycanthrope or not, he wasn’t sure. But what he was sure of is that a girl he knew his entire life, someone he comforted after the death of her parents, transformed from a beast to human before his eyes.
He watched in shock as you stumbled to a dark corner of the cave, out of his eyeline, then as you stumbled back out in garments he had seen you in just a few days prior. He couldn’t move, you weren’t in much better condition, having just gone through such a change. You stumbled to the wall of the cave, sliding down to the stone floor, visibly exhausted.
“You,” he managed. “But we were kids when this all began.” He pushed himself against the far wall of the cave, keeping his distance from you.
You turned your head to face him, nodding slowly. “My parents. How do you think I ended up like this?” He stared, opening his mouth to ask about their death, but you seemed to understand exactly what he was thinking, “their deaths were my fault. They tried to keep this secret from me, tried to control it. I tried to control it, it’s not possible.” You explained.
“You let me go.” He said matter-of-factly.
“I don’t want to kill, Mingyu.” You stated, pushing off the wall, planting your hands on the ground. “I don’t want to be this, but I need to live. Imagine starving yourself until you physically cannot stand it any longer. I go as long I can without feasting, but it becomes too much after too long, the hunger is unbearable.”
“In the meantime, I feast on animals. Bears, deer, whatever I can find, but after all this time, the animals are aware of my habits, I can’t find big enough animals to quench that hunger. When I see a human in that form, a frenzy begins, I cannot control it.”
He nodded, as if understanding your words, but in his mind, he couldn’t comprehend a thing you were saying. How could he? He was the one who was supposed to protect Bromwich, he was supposed to find the beast terrorizing the settlement. And he succeeded. He found the beast, but the beast before him wasn’t the one the settlement would immediately prosecute. The settlement would see a girl thats lived there her entire life, a girl who lost her parents at a young age and has been on her own ever since. They won’t see the beast that almost brought Mingyu’s life to an end.
But if he explains what he saw, if he tells everyone that you’re this monstrous beast that’s been feeding off of the settlement for years, he knows exactly what will happen. You’ll be prosecuted for your crimes, more specifically, you’ll be treated like a witch, like an other-worldly being. You’ll be taken by the strongest of the settlement and dragged to a tree right on the edge and before you get to make your case and plead for your life, you’ll be hanged. Hanged for crimes you apparantly had to commit.
He stood up, picking up his gun from where he dropped it, pointing it directly at you. “You have to go.” He whispered, not breaking eye contact. You raised your hands, rapidly shaking your head, “yes. You can’t go back to Bromwich.”
“Please,” you whispered, sliding back against the wall, finding yourself in the corner of the cave. “Let me go.” They were the same words he had uttered to you a few nights ago, you only hoped he would have mercy on you like you did on him.
“Don’t you understand?” He asked, “you can’t go back.” He repeated, gesturing with his gun for you to get up. You stood shakily, your body still not fully adjusted to being back in your human form. “I’m letting you go. When we’re out of the cave, I’ll fire a shot. You will leave and I’ll tell everyone that I killed the beast.” He lowered his gun and gently grabbed your arm, leading you out of the cave.
“What about me?” You asked, falling to the forest floor once outside.
“You’ll die with the beast. It took one last victim.” He pointed his gun to the sky and pulled the trigger. “Don’t go back to Bromwich.” He instructed, turning towards the settlement and walking away.
06/02/1528
A decision had been made. It was the right decision, Mingyu was sure of it. The settlement held a funeral for you, luckily they believed every word from his mouth. He managed to catch up with the beast as it rested in a cave, however, it wasn’t just the beast that was in there. In the darkest corner of the cave, there lied your body, your mangled body.
He killed the beast. Mingyu became a hero. The elders of the settlement were sure they’d be writing about the tales of the lycanthrope for years to come, but only Mingyu knew the truth.
A new law was set in place after that day; Mingyu would be the only hunter to leave the settlement, he was the only one allowed to hunt. And on his hunting trips, he always finds himself back at that cave, waiting for you, waiting for the howl that drew him from his sleep and brought him face to face with that beast for the first time. He always hopes that you’ll return to the woods one day, or maybe he’ll find you.
But for today, Mingyu’s a hero and he’ll be written about for years to come.
genre: strangers to ???: horror/thriller, angst, smut
cw: smut (mdni!), set in the 1500s, historical inaccuracies ahead, NOT omegaverse (cannot stress this enough), blood & brief gore (nothing too in depth, but still there), death, body horror, probably inaccurate lycanthrope/werewolf lore, my take on lycanthropes (im full on making shit up), beauty & the beast retelling (in a vague way), etc. more may be added once the fic is fully released
synopsis: In the 1500s before the world had yet to be civilized, a small settlement is haunted by the brutal mutilation of townsfolk. Some believe the deaths are the result of animals, others, the more spiritual of the townsfolk believe the deaths were at the hand of something more vicious, something more human.
total wc: approx. 3k+
teaser wc: 578
release date: June 6th
smut warnings under the cut :3
smut warnings: unprotected sex (its the 1500s bro, cmon), fingering, oral (f. receiving), semi rough sex, scratching, biting, etc. more may be added once the fic is fully released
a/n: sososo excited to post this teaser!! for those who don't know, this is the first fic in my slasher summer series, which is a series of fics based off of slasher/horror subgenres, the subgenre for this one being grimm fairytale retelling!! thank you all for the support on the announcement, and if you haven't seen it, check it out here! I'll be posting the teasers for each of the fics throughout the month and they'll all be linked on the announcement post, so be sure to check it out!! the taglist for this series is open and will be linked at the end, you can also comment to be added to the taglist of this specific fic, but I do recommend looking at the taglist form since it has all 13 fics :) love u all 🍒
6/6/1503.
Somewhere, deep in the woods of the northern New World sits a settlement. One small enough to house the small sum of one hundred and seventy five settlers, but large enough to be displayed on a map, to be seen from the skies, if that were even possible. This settlement, Bromwich, was home to many families and few on their lonesome. In the morning, the settlement is quaint, a soft mist coating the ground as a few farmers left their small homes to tend to the earth and its creatures. In the night, the settlement isn’t much different, dimly lit lanterns illuminating the man-made paths as the children followed their parents to their homesteads, tucking in for the night, leaving the settlement almost completely quiet, except for the howling of wolves deeper into the wood.
A few remained out of their homes at night, some even working through the night to the morning. Most felt they had to; the blacksmiths who insisted on completing their work so no one had to wait for their metal works, the apothecaries who felt that collecting herbs and ingredients at night was more productive than in the morning, a few children who would sneak out to play in the wheat fields, but mostly the hunters who would leave late at night and return a few days later with their game in tow. It was never odd for these hunters to not return for days, or even weeks at a time. It was the disappearance of the head of the Choi household that led to suspicions arising throughout the settlement. It wasn’t until Master Choi’s body was discovered torn to shreds by the treeline that a curfew was set, not only for hunters, but everyone in the settlement. While most could rest easy with the knowledge that Master Choi was either mauled by a bear or maybe even a wolf, the more spiritual of the settlement began to theorize.
Many elders were overheard speaking of a monster–some wretched thing that was both human and beast–that scared the children. Soon enough, the elders were forbidden from speaking of such a thing, and soon after that, another hunter went missing. Master Jeon, much like Master Choi, was an expert hunter, so his disappearance came as a shock to everyone. What didn’t come as a shock, however, was when his body was discovered along the treeline, even more mutilated than Master Choi’s. Both deaths were felt deeply within the settlement, the funerals beginning to pile up as more and more hunters were found mutilated. The elders told more tales of the half-man half-beast purging the settlement of its hunters. Everyone was on edge and terrified of what was happening. It wasn’t long until only one hunter remained, the families of the others left widowed and fatherless.
Master Kim was never worried about bears, or wolves, or half-human half-beasts. He was convinced he was above dying like all the others. He would go out and kill a rabbit, and maybe if he was lucky, a deer or a moose. And most of all, he would come back. He wouldn’t leave his wife a widow, his son without a father, he would be different. So he set out with his wheellock gun, a kiss on his wife's cheek, and a pat on his son’s shoulder with a goal in mind. And he returned three weeks later on the treeline, just like the rest of them.
a/n 2: as i said before, the taglist is open! if you're interested, please comment and let me know, join the taglist via the slasher summer taglist form, or even join my perm taglist!!! reminder that if you're interested in joining my taglist, you MUST have an indicator on your blog showing that you're over 18, or you will not be added.
