JIMIN ONESHOTS IMAGINES

Serial Killer

— 48 —

Letting him in at your car as a stranger not knowing he is a serial killer.

—

"Miss President, do you have a minute to talk?"

A man, clearly a reporter rushed up to me just as I stepped out of my office building. Being the CEO and President of the biggest company in the country might sound glamorous, but honestly, it's a pain in the ass. The endless paperwork, the constant pressure, the cameras... I've given up so much of myself for this position. But I'll endure it. I always do.

"What is it?" I asked, adjusting the hem of my tailored dress. Reporters have been swarming like flies lately, and I can't stand them, especially the ones with cameras. I hate being filmed.

"There was a gruesome crime yesterday," the reporter started, stepping closer. "Many netizens believe it's the work of that serial killer who's been haunting our town. Do you have a comment, Miss President? How do you think we should solve this?" I raised a brow.

"The police and detectives are handling the investigation. I won't interfere, it's not my place," I replied coolly. "I'm the president of a company, not the chief of police. But if there's anything I can do to help... I'll consider it."

Of course, I had no intention of getting involved. All I did was sit in a chair and sign papers. Or so they thought.

"Miss President, it's time to go," my secretary interrupted, opening the car door for me. "No more reporters today. I've got this."

I nodded and walked to the car, ignoring the swarm of questions behind me as reporters grew louder, more desperate for a soundbite.

I drive myself, that's why I never hired a driver. Not even my secretary, who's more than capable, is allowed behind the wheel. I don't need a man to drive me anywhere. I like control.

Relationships? I've only had one. An ex I nearly married. We were both toxic, maybe even dangerous. Especially me.

Once in the car, I started the engine and drove toward my favorite spot, a place I escape to when I need to breathe. Somewhere quiet. Remote.

As I was driving, something or rather someone caught my eye. A man on the side of the road was waving, trying to flag someone down.

Against better judgment or maybe because of it, I slowed down and rolled the window down.

"Need a ride?" I asked, eyeing him. "Yeah," he said, flashing a pair of innocent puppy eyes. Please. I've seen enough fake charm to last a lifetime. I unlocked the door. "Hop in."

"Thank you so much," he said, sliding into the passenger seat and closing the door behind him. "It's nothing. Where are you headed?" I asked, gripping the steering wheel again.

"Oh, just drop me anywhere along your route. I'm not picky," he replied, buckling in. I glanced at him. "You know, getting into random strangers' cars can be dangerous."

He smirked. "Picking up random strangers is just as dangerous." I blinked, amused. "Wait... are you a serial killer too?"

He looked at me, curious. "What do you mean too? Are you a serial killer?" I gave a slight nod.

His eyes widened. "No way... don't tell me—you're the 'Killer Lady' they've been talking about on the news?!" I nodded again, smirking. "Guilty."

He practically bounced in his seat. "What the hell—this is insane! You're my inspiration!"

"Really?" I raised a brow, now genuinely intrigued.

"I strangle all my victims. Just like you." His voice dropped into an almost reverent tone. "I'm a huge fan. I never imagined that the president of the most powerful company in the country was the killer I admired most."

I laughed. "I'm very good at hiding my identity."

"That wink of yours? I've seen it on camera. Should've known," he chuckled.

"You're serious?" I asked, still amused. "That actually warms my heart. I've been doing this since I lost my parents. At first, I didn't think I had it in me. But over time, I got... comfortable with it."

He nodded. "It's fate we met this way. Two serial killers. Sitting in a car."

"What will they do?" I finished for him, smirking.

I leaned closer, and just then, I felt the cool press of a blade against my neck. I didn't flinch. I was expecting it.

"You gonna kill me, Park Jimin?" I asked, voice low, lips curling into a mischievous smile while raising a gun and pressing it against his head.

"Miss your toxic ex?"

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