Save Me; Ryeji FF

Chapter 1.

Warning: Descriptive depiction of violence, sexual abuse, and death.

There is a fine line between being a Hitman and a Serial Killer. A Serial Killer is a person who commits murder multiple times— no motives, no empathy, a psychopath. These people end the lives of others to sustain their desire for psychological gratification, the thrill of killing people to feel power.

On the other side of the fine line, Hitman. A Hitman is someone that commits a targeted murder. The line is getting blurred, isn't it? But what's their motive? Money. Contract killers often exhibit serial killer traits from sharing the same objectives, financial situations, and lack of emotional presence. Many of these killers become murderers out of desperation for the object that's made from society's construct. Feeling trapped with nowhere to go, they are forced to their last resort-- commit a sin at someone's bidding.

She reminded herself this, that this was someone else's doing, not hers. She constantly ran it through her thoughts as she tied up her next victim. It's just for the money. The dark-haired woman put her hair up into a tight ponytail, she reached for her knife that's sheathed on her right thigh.

"P-Please, you don't have to do this. I'll give you anything you want. Money, drugs. You name it, I'll give it to you.", the businessman pleaded for his life while he tried to escape from his tight restraints.

The hitman pulled her small hunting knife from the sheath and moved around the chair to look at her target's eyes while she cracked her neck. "Uh... no.", her deep voice sent shivers down the man's body.

"I- I didn't do anything wrong!", he yelled out in desperation to which she laughed boisterously. That's what everyone said when they were tied up to a chair, a foot in death's doorstep.

"Like hell you didn't", she smirked beneath her black mask that covered the lower half of her face, leaving only her dark eyes to show.

The killer took a seat in front of the bound man, "Not a lot of people can get away from facing the retributions of their heinous acts, they sit behind three closed walls and steel bars. People with such high power and a wealth that runs in their bank accounts like water-- People like you.", the knife ran along the man's shaky thigh. "You all can get away with anything as if society's rules can't touch you. Even if you get caught, for as long as you have the money, you can get away with anything. You'd know right?", she put her face closer to the sobbing man's face who tried to move away from her but to no avail.

"I don't know what you're talking about", he whimpered through his trembling lips. The masked woman raised the sharp blade and impaled his left thigh, screams filled humid air of the luxurious bedroom.

"Are you sure?", she said, pulling the knife out of his thigh and pressed it against his neck. The man's breathing became more staggered, sweat dripping down his forehead.

"Hey hey, breathe. Breathe with me. In... and out", he followed her commands, in fear of what she'd do next.

After his breathing calmed down slightly, she replaced the blade with her hand causing him to gasp from her touch. "Now, do you remember?", her tone came out lightly.

"Y-yes", the victim nodded repeatedly in her hands.

"What's her name?", she stared deeper into his fear filled eyes.

"I-I don't know.", her grip became tighter but not enough to strangulate him.

"Hae-Haerin.", he choked out, tasting the saltwater dripping along his cheeks. The hitman freed his neck, allowing him to breathe.

She leaned back on the backrest of her chair and crossed her arms, loving the sight of a man powerless in front of her. "That wasn't so hard, was it? Now tell me, what exactly did you do to her?"