STOLEN CONFESSIONS | yandere.

i | money is the reason we exist

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NATIONAL ANTHEM | LANA DEL REY

money is the reason we exist. everyone knows that it's a fact kiss kiss.

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WARNINGS: DEATH, BLOOD, SLIGHT INTIMATE SCENE(idk😛)

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Just beyond the dark hallway behind a rather slow nightclub on this Monday night stood two figures happily giggling away their joy in being in each others presence, clearly intoxicated from a long night of partying. Except it was truly just one enormous lie. No of it was real, all fabricated by the much younger boy.

The boy, Sam, who would kill the older man.

Sam is what most would refer to as an assassin, or possibly a hit man; one who kills in exchange for a large sum of money. Because money is the reason we exist. It determines whether or not we can afford to eat three meals a day. It allows one to either sit out in the frigid night or indulge in the warmth's a house provides. It dictates if you live or die. And Sam would rather not die from neglect and starvation. So he trades his own life for others in a sense, his life being money as it's the only thing keeping him from ending his own life from his misery.

But don't get your panties in a twist. Sam doesn't just blindly follow the orders of his clients, killing those who could potentially be of innocence. He does his research, or what others call stalking. Along with his... coworker could be used to describe Johnny, him and Johnny see who truly crosses all the criteria to properly be disposed of.

Those who Sam describe as being the monsters of the world. The monsters that rot the societies and only produce harm and trouble to others with their existence. An example being the man who stood far too close to Samuel for his liking. The man... his name was irrelevant and forgettable, is an abusive man to not only his subordinates but his own family. His daughter and wife who couldn't escape the grasp of the manipulative, cunning man could only sink deeper and deeper into his web of schemes and lies. And now here Samuel comes along, wielding his weapon of death to create a rift in their family dynamics as a whole. Who knows, maybe in some twisted way they'd be upset over his death, but undoubtedly they'd move on with their lives and leave this sick man in the dust.

But Samuel wasn't claiming to be a hero. It wasn't like he's actually a good person. He's only doing this because of his greed for money. Sam too could be compared to those monsters if he desired to do so, but he didn't care what others thought of him. It was only his decision whether or not his victims would perish if he saw them as beasts. And it's not like they could stop him in doing so.

Samuel, now staring blankly at the man, had made the conscious decision to now execute his plan of murder. It wasn't like the man noticed his unnatural shift in behavior as he was far too intoxicated to care, too busy worrying about stabilizing his body from toppling over embarrassingly in front of the handsome young boy. But he's not gay, no he could never be. It's not his fault a male took interest in him or that he decided to play along because of his gorgeous smile and his not so subtle flirting. It's the boys fault for being so desirable and naive for the man to take back home and show special treat to. Well, if he even could in his drunken state.

"J-James... *hiccup*," The man called, looking with hooded lids at the much younger boy, consuming the gorgeous sight with his eyes. "James" brown skin glistened with sweat, brightening up beautifully against the dim light of the street lamp. His bleached, straight blond hair pulled back in a ponytail was streaked with moisture from the musty, cramped bar. "James" honey eyes, branded with an obvious lust, sent shivers down the old man's spine. He felt so young again. And oh, the way the young man smirked at him, swaying his slutty hips concealed by a pair of low rise slacks as he approached him gave the older butterflies. Something his old, wrinkled wife would never be able to do with her aging state.

Oh, how excited he is to take this boy home.

The man felt his breath hitch as "James", now only centimeters apart, playfully wrapped his lean arms around his neck, the golden bands he wore brushing lightly against the exposed nape. He felt his penis hardening under the boys lewd stare, suddenly feeling extremely trapped under his gaze.

He loved how exhilarating this all was.

Ja- Samuel was absolutely disgusted by this man but hid it quite well, grinning and touching the monster intimately despite how badly he wanted to spit on and kill the man in cold blood. But obviously he couldn't act so irrationally. He wasn't a professional for nothing.

Samuel placed his cheek against the dampish button up of the old man, his bony, ringed fingers dancing across the man's nape, resisting the urge to laugh mockingly at the way the man trembled so pathetically under his touch. He's so gross, so repugnant. Sam can't wait to rid him of his life.

Sam giggled in the man's ear, beginning to toy with his greasy hair, tugging on the locks to bring his face closer to his. Samuel was not a short man by any means, standing at the height of 5'11, he tends to shadow most people, including this 5'9 elder, although not by much. That didn't mean he wouldn't end this monsters life.

The man, dazed and lost in the honey swirls of James irises could only breathe shallowly as the boys luscious, pink lips, his head now risen to meet the man's, closed their distance from his own cracked ones. Slowly, very slowly he sees the plush cushions approach. Until they're hovering over his. He couldn't take his eyes off them, he couldn't look away...

Smile. No, a smirk appeared on his lips. A smirk that harbored ill intentions abruptly popped out of thin air. It was far too random. The man had a bad feeling, feeling himself sober up slightly, but he was far too late. His own web of greed had been twisted around him and now he couldn't escape Sam. Couldn't run away with his life.

The man couldn't even think to move away from James when he suddenly felt a searing pain in his gut. He's been betrayed. He was sold out. He's so stupid. How could he be played like a fiddle by his seemingly innocent young boy! He was so stupid. He needed to scream. He needed to let all his frustration and anger out on this boy, flip the tables and-

Blood. Blood was gurgling in this throat, spitting out of his new open wound. He can't breath. All he can feel is pain.

The man dropped to his knees, desperately trying to hold his throat together as he made an effort to scream for help. But all was in vain as he could only succumb to the pain and darkness quickly taking over his vision.

This man is finished.

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CHAPTER TWO IS A DIRECT CONTINUATION OF THIS !!

HOPE U ENJOYED HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY ❤️