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Fredrich Waltz

In this world, one cannot say anything without proof to back them up.

Fredrich stepped in and looked around. A simple apartment complex. Well no, that wasn't a right description. This was fancier. It reeked of wealth and the lobby alone made it clear that only the rich could afford these apartments. He lifted his phone and looked at the hotel layout that was presented on the screen with a red dot. "He's a few floors up." he explained to Sang-Min then moved to the elevator. "Are you sure you don't want to wait in the hallway once we get there? You seem to have experience with this man." he said as the elevator doors closed in front of them.

Without proof, you'll never catch me.

Fredrich Waltz

In this world, one cannot say anything without proof to back them up.

"Are you sure you can handle that kind of blood, Han?" Fredrich asked, his expression hard as always. "Torturing someone is one thing, but death ways much heavier." He stopped when the elevator beeped and waited for the doors to open before moving in. He followed the tracking device until it led to one particular room, the very same that had been used on Sang-Min before. He slowly lowered his phone, looked to make sure the blond was ready, then forcefully knocked on the door.
He only had to knock once. The door slid open on its own.

Without proof, you'll never catch me.

Lounging on his chair next to the virtual fireplace heater was the crimson-haired author. He was very relaxed and casually sipped on his glass of red wine, relishing the flavor as he read a book. He didn't look like the psychopath he was deep down, and that's what made it so disturbing.
Hearing footsteps, Barnabas closed his book and turned his head to look at his visitors. "Ah, so you finally came." he said with a cheerful smile. There were specks of blood on the side of his face. "I was beginning to think you didn't care about that boy."
"Where's Ethan?" Fredrich said as he took a step forward and showed his police badge.
"He's in my secret room. Although I suppose it's not so secret now." Bard chuckled and pointed to the wall. A bookshelf was moved to expose an open door. Inside the mysterious room was a small, soundproof, and dungeon-like area. Chains were on the wall, some of which were holding the limbs of a limp Ethan. There was a pool of blood beneath him, specifically his arm rest. In the pool of blood was a finger with a ring on it.
Behind his chair was a twitching and growling shadow, and next to it was a very detailed drawing of the creature with unseeable chains binding it to its spot.
"Careful," Bard warned as the detective peered in. "He's tired from all the work I put him through." he said with a light laugh.

"It's already done." Barnabas said, unscathed by the insults. "The entire manuscript was done. All I had to do was draw the illustrations that give my books such flare. It all started with a drawing with a log cabin, and you know the rest. Now that they're being delivered to my editor, I figured I would let you pick up my star." he chuckled again. He set his closed book on the table as well as his glass, lacing his fingers over his crossed knee. "Magnus... You're quite confusing, Mr. Han. First I hear Ethan, then a Magnus. Ah, it's not like it matters. Both of them were able to receive sufficient training from me." he said with a grin that secretly held malice in it.

"An overdose... on orange juice?" As absurd as it sounded, Barnabas smiled patiently and tilted his head lightly. "And yet you're the one glaring at me like a psychopath." he chuckled. As Sang-Min left, he pulled out his sketchbook and began drawing something that had been lingering in his mind for some time. His drawing was fast and detailed, it was nearly done by the time the blond asked him about the wine. "You may have some if you'd like, although I'm not sure what your police officer friend will do with a minor consuming alcohol, even wine." he laughed to himself while still paying attention on his drawing.
There was a shuffling sound that made the artist pause. He looked over his shoulder to see the tall detective carrying a pale and unconscious Ethan in his arms. Fredrich had a grim look on his face as he carried the boy out. In the midst of his walk he looked over at Sang-Min, saying nothing but giving him his cue to do whatever he'd like. Then he left the room.

Barnabas met Sang-Min's gaze without any fear or hatred. He looked completely the same as he had when they first met: pleasant, kind, and modest. "My revenge is done, so I won't be chasing after you. Yet at the same time, I will." He lifted his hand and pointed at his temple. "The memories will chase you forever. Everything I have done to you and your friend will always be painted in the back of your eyes, and each blink and moment of sleep will be nothing more than a replay of your fears. This grace of yours hides nothing. I can read it well in your eyes. The hatred, the fear, and the joy." He smiled evilly. "We're cut from the same cloth, Mr. Han. When we're done here you'll have an insatiable taste for blood that won't go away. Whatever you've held inside will be unleashed, and I assure you that it will be wondrous. Now, here is my last game."
Barnabas turned and dropped his sketchpad onto the table. On it was a picture of three ambulances outside his apartment complex. People were surrounding the building to try and capture a glimpse of what was happening. One ambulance was already being loaded with what could be assumed to be Ethan. The other two were empty, though many workers were running into the building.
"A game of chance. There is no guarantee what the outcome will be." he murmured as he gazed distantly at his picture. He leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees, looking more weathered than elegant now. "It's a shame," he murmured to himself. "I'd love to watch you become your new, true self. Who knows? Perhaps you will be an author, too."

Bard raised an amused eyebrow at the blond's musings then smiled at him. "It would certainly be entertaining to help mold your newfound blood lust - It would even make for an interesting book, but Fate is already in motion." he said and waved a hand to his drawing. "That trigger will be pulled. Where the bullet will go, I don't know. If I survive is also something I will not know. I do know that if I do happen to survive then I will take you further into the darkness and show you just how addictive and pleasurable it can be. There's a new world waiting for you to explore, whether you want to learn it on your own or have a veteran teach you is all your decision." He leaned against his chair and laced his fingers over his crossed knee, waiting patiently for what would happen.

Barnabas yelled out when he was shot, gripping his trembling and wounded hand. "Then... it's a deal." he grunted with a light smirk. As his picture foretold, the flash of ambulances showered the room with shades of red and blue. The thuds of footsteps came, and shortly after multiple paramedics ran in to save the bleeding author.