The night draped the town in a thick cloak of darkness, every shadow an unspoken fear. Whispers fluttered through the streets like untamed birds, carrying the name that gripped the hearts of even the bravest: Ghost Bunny. Those who dared to say it spoke in hushed tones, recounting tales that mingled in the chilly air—tales of a figure that wore a bunny mask, with haunting white eyes and lips stained crimson, casting a pall of dread over the midnight hour

Jungkook walked the empty streets, the moonlight cascading through the branches of leafless trees, illuminating his ghostly form. His pale skin glistened like freshly fallen snow, devoid of life yet exuding an eeriness that seemed to repel all warmth. He relished the fear he instilled, an unparalleled rush coursing through him as children’s laughter faded into quiet, leaving the world suspended in a thick tension

He was a collector of shadows, carefully crafting stories that seeped into the fabric of the town. Each night, he haunted the alleyways, listening for the giggles of unsuspecting children, memories of earlier times before darkness enveloped his heart. Once, he had been like them, innocent and bright, but fate twisted him—a cruel creator that turned joyous laughter into haunting silence

Caught in a labyrinth of his own making, Jungkook felt the weight of his choices. He knew the terror that enveloped the town; it pulsed through the air thickly, like fog settling in for the night. Families locked their doors and windows as whispers filled their homes

Parents: “Don’t go out after dark,” they warned The Ghost Bunny is lurking.” Their fear fed him, a fuel that kept him moving, yet a part of him ached for something he could hardly remember—connection, warmth, a fleeting glimpse of hope

Jungkook: he look at them and smirk little and started walking away while the bunny mask on his face