ꜱʟᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ || ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪᴏɴ & ᴅᴇᴠ (ɴꜱꜰᴡ)

[Devils Temptation]

"Here we go... just take a seat right over there, Royce. I'm told you've had no issues on the prior few mental evaluations but this is just standard practice to maintain your clearance. We should be through all this in just a few minutes... now, can you tell me how you have been these last few days."​

"Good. I feel fairly refreshed in the mornings and there isn't much stress in my life."

"I see. Have you been facing any negative emotions lately or possibly depressive and/or suicidal thoughts?"​

"No, not in the slightest. There are times I work so hard I feel like I could drop dead in bed when I get home but other than that, things are well."

"Hah... well that's normal. You sound like you have good stress regulation. What do you do to unwind from a hard day, Royce?"​

"I take walks. I enjoy walking a lot, especially during the night. People don't interest me very much so I try to avoid them... I'm a little awkward socially, if I'm being honest with you, doctor."

"Do you feel there is a reason for that, Royce?"​

"...Not in particular. Some people are charismatic and good at socializing. I am not so I prefer to avoid it."

"You're said to be rather introverted and quiet at work, are there any thoughts you are holding onto regarding your fellow coworkers that you may describe as intrusive? This evaluation is purely confidential, I assure you."​

"...Intrusive? Hah... I don't think much at all about my coworkers beyond work. They aren't really the type of people I'm interested in, doctor."

"And what does that mean?"
​

"Exactly as it sounds, sir. I have no real interest in them outside of them merely being coworkers. After all, there's nothing they're doing out of the ordinary so is there a reason I would look in their direction - much less care about them? When you see someone walking down the street to their work, do you stop to take a glance at them? No. What about some screaming lunatic on the sidewalk? If, even for a moment, they catch your attention. That's what I mean. People don't pay attention to those they consider to be boring and in the background."

"Huh. So you're saying you just find them boring?"
​

"Yes."

"...Anything else you want to tell me before we conclude?"​

"No."

"Very well. Your results look healthy aside from a slight concern in socializing but your coworkers seem to have no trouble with you so I see no reason to pursue it. Thank you for your time, Royce. I will send in the evaluation to have your clearance refreshed." ​

---

---

Ruffled, dark hair spilled over Royce's gray eyes while he stared aimlessly at the wall in front of him. White wall, beige desk. Slow tick of the clock as he contemplated on the prior interaction with the psychologist. Lying was bad. Anyone knew that. Not all lies were a terrible thing, though. That was something he learned earlier in life from those that had raised him - in that sense there were some addendums he would have given in his psych evaluation. Intrusive thoughts. Everyone had them - anyone who pretended they did not were just merely lying to themselves about the type of human being they were. Sometimes an especially annoying coworker would inconvenience his otherwise smooth day.

In times like those, of course he wanted to slap them.

Who the hell wouldn't?

Royce could already see those thick flapping gums as the man occupied the space in front of the elevator, yapping like some complete moron while people were trying to push past him. Thoughts like those were healthy and normal in his eyes but what was not had certainly been the way he looked at normalcy. Society existed in a certain equilibrium where all the more depraved acts hid just loosely beneath the surface. Swept up by those that wanted to keep some semblance of 'order' in something chaotic. There was a certain expectation that a person could go to work safely, afford a living, and then potentially retire one day...

That unusual variables like murders, abuse, starvation were something that most people would not have to be concerned of.

People were civilized and boring, after all.

No one would hurt someone else without a good reason, after all.

It was better to be average, after all.

"Sorry about the delay, Royce!" Swing of the door opening for the doctor to step in, an older man with a rounded stomach and a thick, white beard. He had a habit of stroking it while he was speaking for some reason, as if everything Royce said was, in some way, interesting to him. Pulling a document out of his folder, he would hand it to the man. "Here you go. It's a provisional document, should let you get back to contract work immediately. Sorry to keep you so late - I'm sure a young man like you had plans for the weekend!" Apologetic squeeze to his shoulder to which the dark-haired male would merely stand to his full height and merely gave a shake of his head and a curt -

"No. Just heading back to my place. Thanks for the document, doctor. Have a good evening." He did have plans... it was a little annoying but now they were delayed plans. Small deterrents like this didn't bother him too much but sometimes they piled up a little more bit by bit and he was suddenly left feeling an irritation well beyond anything that made any amount of sense. Itchy. It felt like his brain was feeling itchy. Or maybe it was his fingertips trembling a little...?

Fuck.

Wait, he was really fucking annoyed, wasn't he?

Yet, in spite of that his expression had not changed in the slightest. Messy hair covered the expression in his eyes and even as he rose to leave the room with the evaluation in hand there was not the slightest indication that anything was even wrong with the man. Out the hall and into the lobby, he pulled his coat over his shoulder and then without another word stepped into the darkening evening - practically blending into the crowd perfectly. No different than anyone else living their own lives, not at all unusual, not at all threatening... in every way, he had that capacity. To merely be just another in the crowd. Maybe it would have been for the best if that was all he was... some days he might have even wished it was like that. Go home, relax, work the next day. Live an average life without pulling back the veil.

Unlocking his phone, his thumb slid over his text messages. A dozen from the same conversation had spammed his phone...

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!"

"I did what you fucking asked, there's no one here --"

"Once I find out who you are, I'm going to make your brains kiss the fucking curb."

...

"You seem a little tense... relax a little. Don't worry. I'll be there. I had a little checkup to do."

"Don't worry. Your secret is safe."

"Don't worry, we'll meet soon. Be patient. If you didn't do what I asked, your life is over - you know?"

Small smile etching over his features as he navigated through the crowd, almost appearing as if he was texting with a friend... if only the crowd could have known that he was the largest deviant out of them all.

---

---

Harsh KICKS would have the furious man's foot digging into a trash can over and over until it was dented and folded... somewhat on the older end with a scruff and graying brown hair. Jacket from his suit discarded onto the alleyway ground and dress shirt unbuttoned enough to show the sweat-soaked drench along his collarbone. Kick after kick was muffled with another curse as if he were losing his mind entirely. "Fuck... fuck!! I'll show you to mess with me, you fucking rat -" Over and over again until his head snapped at the sight of a new arrival stepping into the alleyway. From the time it had taken Royce to get there, his body language had changed entirely. Slumped, improper posture turned into a towering straightened sight that loomed over him. Those more timid, smaller steps had transitioned to long, confident strides and most striking of all had been the leisurely smile plastered across his facial features.

"Hey, old man. Your foot doing okay? Shouldn't really be kicking like that, it sure is gonna hurt in the morning!" Laughter spilled out from his mouth in rumbling waves with that gleeful grin faintly looking handsome if not wildly unsetting.

"Beat it jackass. I'm fucking busy --"

"I'm the guy you're looking for, Mr. -- you know? The messages you got. Those were me. See?" Shifting his hand into his pocket, he would pull out his phone to send another text message and within seconds, the man's phone lit up with the notification.

'Told ya!'

...To which his demeanor changed entirely and he would size up Royce immediately.

"...Who the fuck are you and how do you know any of this shit? Do we know each other?" Grabbing a suitcase beside himself, he dropped it in front of himself and kicked hard to have it sliding all the way over to Royce.

"Here. It's the money. Keep your fucking word and don't let any of that shit come to light. If I have to, I'll take you down with me." Kneeling, Royce would open up the suitcase. Several bands of hundreds were neatly stacked into the suitcase. At least a hundred thousand in total... he was surprised such an out of shape pig like him could have hauled it here! Dipping a hand into his pocket, he would pull a lighter out and right in front of the man - snapped his thumb along the ignition and lit the money on fire.

"W-What the fuck are you doing, you psycho?!" Snapping harshly, he would lurch forward to try and grab the suitcase just to be met with a CRUNCH of a fist digging against his jaw to force him to go reeling a few steps back with a mess of drool slipping down onto the ground from his open mouth.

"Let's get one thing straight, old man! I'm not here for the money. You are specifically why I am here. You asked if you knew me, the answer is no -- but I know you. Mr. William Reeds. You're a very affluent politician. Big on order and stability, you want to drive the crime in this city down with an iron fist. Respectable but unfortunately, it's just an attempt to cover your ass - isn't it? Everyone has their choice of poison, Sir. It's just that... raping young women isn't a very sweet one, is it? You take bribes too. I hear you're rather sadistic in bed. Perhaps you can demonstrate to me?" Grandiose little 'bow' as Royce seemed to give him the stage for the time being, hands wrapped behind his back with a big 'warm' grin.

"...Cut the bullshit, kid." Massaging against his jawline, he would knead his thumb against the faint swelling of a bruise. "What the fuck are you calling rape? Those women chose to sleep for me to get further in their careers. Just because a bunch of sluts wanted to use me, I can't use them? How the fuck does that make sense? Bribes? What the fuck do you know about bribes? You think you're some fucking hero? Some vigilante that's out to clean up the mess in this city? Hahahaha! What a fucking moron! Come on then, kid. Have your few minutes of fame before you end up buried for fucking with the wrong guy --" Ah, man... he always hated this part. The misconception. It was the weirdest misconception too. Why... why did everyone assume that he was out here to help others? The color on the politician's face would vanish for a moment when Royce would pull a knife out of his pocket and held it in font of his face.

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: ᴘʀɪᴇꜱᴛᴇꜱꜱ
0:00ㅇ──────── 2:41​

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺​

"You got it wrong again, old man. What the hell gives...? Hero? Justice? No. I'd applaud you for getting around the system so well! Why is that something to be ashamed of? You got strong following loopholes in society. I'm not here to 'bring you to justice' or whatever deluded nonsense you have in your head. Murderers and rapists... and in a broader light, politicians, CEOs, cops... do you know what they all have in common? They're strong. They're in a position of power. In those moments that I'm tearing down something powerful, I feel alive. Don't you feel the same way, William?" Tremors between his fingertips would make the knife shake lightly, hand squeezing at the hilt and relaxing again and again like he could barely contain himself.

"When you beat those women to an inch of death while fucking them, did you feel strong? When your hand went around her throat or you slapped her across the face after calling her your fucking toy... did it make you hard beyond belief?" Faint hint of a flush would cover across his features and he would let out an excited exhale in spite of the look of disgust covering the politician's face.

"Like I fucking said, I didn't rape anyo--"

"Oh, but you did! Why are you lying?! Do you think I didn't do my research? Man, I fucking hate liars... I hate, hate, hate liars... people like you and I, we pretend to be human but at the end of the day we're anything but - I know you enjoyed it. I enjoy it too... feeling powerful over someone. We're not completely alike, you know? I don't really get why someone feels tough breaking down someone, something so weak. For me, I can only get my rocks off after I've slaughtered someone... something strong. It's the worst, really... I wish I was more pathetic like you." Speaking mostly to himself, he let out an exasperated sigh and took a step forward, lips folding into an increasingly more warped grin. One step forward. The man took a step back. The mood in the alleyway changed when it became increasingly more apparent that Royce could not be reasoned with.

Suddenly, the anger started to fade to fear. The relationship transitioned from friendly to the terrifying distinction between predator and prey.

There was hardly any room to run. The politician had come assuming that he could bargain to save his career but...

He made a mistake.

"Who... who the fuck are you...?" Shaky breath, cold sweat dripping down his chin and the sensation of his back hitting the brick of the alleyway behind him. For once, Royce felt a wave of relief. For once, the man was looking at him, truly looking at who he was. It felt so good... moments like these felt so fucking good.

"My name is Royce Kiran... you might know me by another name, though. What was it they were calling me on the news...?" Tapping his temple, the color drained from William's face entirely and he pieced it together.

"You... you're The Executioner?"

"Oh, that's right! That's what it was! Pleased to make your acquaintance, you little pig!"
​

---

---

​

News channels were quick to flock to news of yet another murder. A stream of nearly ten that had started from about three years back... all localized to one city. All of the kills had distinct themes in common with one another, the fact that they targeted normally powerful, seemingly untouchable men that always ended up unveiling something utterly disgusting about them. Skeletons in their closets or past victims of their own - even more macabre than that had been the manner by which those victims perished. The killing blow was always the same. Carves over their throat to sever their neck and spine altogether and have them decapitated next to their bodies. That was how he had earned the nickname of The Executioner. Every murder looked like it was some sort of execution. No one had even remotely made progress on who he had been, or how he seemed to know so much about individuals that were seemingly so powerful.

Many theorized that The Executioner was a collection of people... someone higher up in the government capable of digging deep in phone logs, internet activity, flight logs -- but no one had really quite managed to piece together who he was or even the slightest thread he left behind. The assailant was overwhelmingly meticulous to the point that even with how gruesome he left the sight of the murder, there was nothing to ever connect him back to the murders.

"Another murder has rocked the once safe haven of our city. The hit seems to align with the style of The Executioner, a criminal that has been on the loose terrorizing our beloved city by targeting those most in power! Behind me, the alleyway where another grisly murder has taken place of politician William Reeds. Police have sectioned off a perimeter around the alley but as is the case with all murders from The Executioner, new information has come to light regarding Mr. Reeds and alleged activities performed by the politician to a variety of unwilling victims, mostly women, throughout his long career --" Every news channel had been honed into his every act -- but the sentiment online could not have been more different.

Ugh, this is why media is so fucking bogus. Look at how biased this bitch is.

I bet if she was the one getting raped, she wouldn't say he's terrorizing anything.

Are you people fucking for real? Who cared if he killed a rapist, you want someone like that prowling around on the streets?

Yeah, for real - this guy is sick in the head, have you seen the live leaks of some of the shit he's done? He's deranged.
​

Turns out when you give piece of shit pricks who are untouchable their justice, people tend to like you. Who would have guessed?

...He hasn't killed even one innocent person yet, has he...? Then, maybe he isn't really that bad of a person --

Back and forth. Back and forth... back and forth. The sentiment about him seemed to constantly shift... some that despised him, some that feared him, some that felt nothing towards him. And some... that felt everything towards him. The thought of who he was, what he could be.

It was one such person just like that - who had all too much to share with him that would receive a stream of text messages one day on her phone...

"You've been a bad girl lately, haven't you? It isn't good to lie about your credentials to go places that should be off limits to you."

"You're rather captivated with the thought of me. I wonder why that is? I never went into this hoping or looking to be anyone that people looked up to."

"But... you've intrigued me. I wonder if you can help me with a little something. You seem like a smart young lady."

...
​

Briefly, a video would be uploaded to her phone, the same alleyway that the murder had taken place in. Blood splatters on the ground and the brick walls... the sight of two men sitting next to one another, though one was entirely unresponsive and had a knife just barely lodged into his neck from the angle the video was shot. It didn't look fake. An unpleasant crunch as a figure grabbed at the knife to drag it more mercilessly across the throat -- but that part of the video would have been cut off, all she would hear was a painful crunch until everything cut.

...

"I wonder if he felt remorse for the women he beat and raped as his head was falling off his neck? Huh... sometimes I wish I could speak to the dead."

"Sorry, this must be a little strange. I want to meet. I don't usually do this... so I'll offer this just this once to you."

"Return to where it all started three years ago within two hours."

"I'd advise you to not contact the police. I know where you live... but I have no plans to harm you. Just to avoid you religiously until I can finish what I need to do."

"Take care and have a lovely day."
​

That was the last message she received... no amount of responded texts or attempts to communicate with him were met with any response whatsoever. Not even the small tag at the bottom of her texts to indicate that her messages had been read. Two hours. Two hours was all she had to meet him.

@Passion

 

[Passion]

EIGHT YEARS AGO

 

"This summer has proven yet again fatal to our city. Another apartment complex fire was put out late Thursday evening on Falcon Drive. The extreme temperatures and dryness of the summer are believed to have contributed to the quick spread of flames that consumed the Westlake Apartments. The fire unfortunately took the lives of eight. Henry Weston, the owner of Westlake Apartments, has yet to comment regarding the recent tragedy."

​

​

He never would comment. Not when Westlake Apartments, Pineview Estates, or Skyview Heights burned down, despite them all being his properties. The only time Henry Weston spoke publicly was when he opened up new and more expensive complexes to renters on the ashes of his former tenants. Some had found it odd that in five years, three of Henry Weston's properties had burned down. However, it was easy to blame the renters. It was merely a danger of living in an apartment. Possibly, but the real threat was being gaslit by a man who valued money over life to a disgusting degree. However, his heartless greed paid off. Foul play was never assumed and thus never found.

Roaring flames cut through the deep night as the Westlake Apartments burned. Home to a few hundred mid to low-income families. It was a shame it had happened so late at night. Many were tucked away asleep, and by the time they had woken up, the entire first and second floors were on fire. So many screams ripped through the once-silent night before the firefighters had arrived there. Some jumped from their windows and balconies; many rushed to the roof, where some were also saved, but the others…

"STELLA!"​

From the sidelines, a young woman screamed as loud as those trapped by flames. Unable to just stand and watch for more than a few seconds, she ran into the burning building through the front door. She went to turn down the hall that would lead to stairs to find that it was a burning inferno.
​

"STELLA!!!"​

I need to get to the second floor…

I shouldn't have stayed out so late…!
​

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!"​

​

A nightmarish scream that would forever haunt her rang out.
The voice sounded familiar; it couldn't be Stella, could it?!​

Panic set in at the thought of her older sister suffering and dying in such a matter. It made her feel faint… or was that the smoke inhalation? It was all a haze, but she did know a firefighter had pulled her out of the burning building unharmed, but not the same could be said for her sister.

On July 13th, Stella Lyrett was pronounced deceased with seven other tenants.

A few months later, construction would start to rebuild the complex under the name of 'Grandview Tower,' leaving Westlake Apartments nothing but a distant and bad memory.

To the family of the victims, it was obvious what was happening here. This had to be insurance fraud, and it didn't take someone with much smarts to piece that together. What was most upsetting was that the crime wasn't committed during the day; It would have at least allowed people to be more alert or possibly away at work or school. He had probably done it in the middle of the night since only a madman would, and no way Henry was a madman, right?​

When the families gathered to talk to a lawyer and news outlets about it, it was only a few days later they would receive a letter threatening a defamation case if they were to follow through. At the end of the day, it was just their 'gut' feeling (and common sense) but without any black-and-white evidence. It was hopeless… but the 'sympathetic' man did offer the survivors free rent at one of his other complexes, the Oakridge Apartments that with traffic was about two hours from the city.

Livia couldn't turn away free rent, but it was one of the very first buildings that Henry had bought, and with its deteriorating condition, it was only a matter of time until he would set her and everything she owned ablaze just like her sister.

Neither Livia's fear nor her hardships would silence her. She dedicated her free time to running a website where she tried to draw attention to the disturbing patterns and lifestyle of Henry Weston. Unable to pay to take a rich man to court, she had hoped that over time word would spread of his crime. At least with how many families were affected by the fires, it was easy to stay anonymous. Sadly for Livia, no one noticed her website much beyond other victims. Nevertheless, the experience she gained running such a site would help her greatly in the future.

---

TWO YEARS AGO

 

"This just in! Henry Weston, the man who has provided housing to many residents throughout the city and beyond, was just found gruesomely murdered last night near Seagate Docks. Based on the cause of death, police currently theorize this is another job of the Executioner, who has been terrorizing the city for the last few years."

​

No way.

He was murdered?!

Karma had finally come to collect in the form of death, and for the first time since her beloved sister died, Livia felt... peace. The Executioner has done what she nor society would ever do. She had wondered if the Executioner noticed the patterns of Henry's greed or even happened to stumble on her first website dedicated to trying to expose Henry's dark truths, but that site wouldn't be up for too much longer before Liv used her experience to great a new and better site...

JANUARY 18TH 2023​ Hello, I'm EMBER! Welcome to my website! Here you will find news articles, discussions, and theories regarding the Executioner with a thriving community. While I do not condone crimes such as murder, it is refreshing to see those properly punished who truly deserve it. The Executioner has provided closure to many, including myself. I never thought I would say a murderer is my hero, but he truly is. The rules here are pretty simple; be civil, legal, and be kind to one another even if you disagree. Also, while you can state your opinions here, keep excessive hate bashing of the Executioner to a minimum as this is a place for open minds compared to black and white thinking. To provide context, I have included police reports, witness statements, and news articles of all stories tied to the Executioner. You will also find maps and timelines. However, I will not be sharing any information that I discovered during my research that could narrow down the identification as I do not wish to help capture the Executioner. That is up to the police. For media inquiries, please email EMBER at: E-R﹫media.net — EMBER​

​

For a chaotic city, sometimes it just took something simple and local to captivate, and that was exactly what E.R. was. It was an organized place for those interested or concerned about the Executioner. Not only that, but he was a hot topic on the moral end due to his choice of victims and so the interest in him quickly was spreading throughout the states. People wanted a place to vent and read the stories without all the bells and whistles of other media sites and social media, so ER.net was successful and growing.

---

LAST YEAR
​

While EMBER had written most of the website without bias when it came to the facts and details, over the last year or so, she had become increasingly personal. Antsy for stories not just for her readers, but for her own yearning.

She kept hinting that she wanted to meet him and those hints were becoming bolder and bolder, but often with a hesitance. She wasn't looking to be his next victim although she didn't quite fit his type. Still, she spoke with a filter, never mentioning her sister or Henry Weston on this new site, but it was evident that one of his victims was someone who had deeply hurt her to the point she spent all day focused on her site with her admins.

With her high drive for more information for her interest and to add fresh content to her site, Liv managed to get her hands on nonpublic information and reports. Posting pictures not seen on any other media, sharing information before the big news outlets had a chance, exclusive voice recordings of potential witnesses, and interviews with experts such as retired detectives about their opinions. While gathering all this information, Liv went out of her way to make sure she covered her tracks. She did not want the Executioner to find her when she wasn't ready for him, nor did she want the feds to stalk her for having such a website.

However, despite the risks, she couldn't stop.

Her website was her livelihood, her outlet for her grief and survivor's guilt, her purpose, and her only connection to him.

It had by evident that her posts were laced with a distorted mentality that was getting worse and worse.

JUNE 4TH 2024​ Hello Everyone! It is EMBER here again. It has been a few months since the Executioner last killed, or the police have been keeping their cases extra close to them as of late. Maybe it is just me, but it stresses me out when I haven't heard about him for a bit. I worry that he might end up killed while taking care of another heartless person. I guess it sounds strange for me to say I miss a serial killer. Still, he is my hero for bringing my family and others justice. Maybe that isn't his intent, but it is the reality. I would do just about anything to personally thank him. I do thank him a fair amount in my dreams and in my prayers. That probably sounded weird. Oh well... While I may never have the chance to tell him, at least I can provide this community to show that in the ocean of people who hate and fear him, there is still a bunch who are open-minded towards his actions. I hope you are at least reading this, Executioner, but even though I'm anonymous, there is a lot I wish I could tell you without the eyes of thousands. I know it is probably worthless words to you, but if only you knew how much you have helped me… P.S. Next week I'll be posting the rules for our new short story contest. This time the theme will be centered on the Executioner in the Middle Ages, How many do you think he would have killed? What would he do differently? What kind of victims would he have then? … And so on! - I look forward to reading your stories! — EMBER ​

---

PRESENT DAY
March 2025​

Livia had just finished posting an article to E.R. with exclusive photos that she had stolen from Local 4; a popular media outlet to many. With a fake badge and a quiet demeanor, many from Local 4 assumed that 'Lisa Hall' was a forgettable intern in the bustling field of chasing breaking news. Everyone was too busy to really care about the girl who happened to show up at many crime scenes and helped herself to loosely protected files and reports. Being a fake reporter had started to feel like a full-time job as of late, one that she never collected a check from.

Her new post was gaining a lot of traction. It showed pictures of a bloody sidewalk and a piece of cloth that some believed came from the Executioner during a possible struggle of his last murder. No one knew if it was from the victim, the Executioner, or if even it was there from something totally unrelated. It didn't take people much to start buzzing when they were glued to the edge of their seats especially for an engaging and very active site like E.R. While there wasn't much depth to the actual photo, E.R.'s community was happy to babble about it. Debating the color, fabric, and story of it all.

Perhaps Livia should partially blame her community for her fixation on the criminal. It became a normalized game to analyze every little clue about him. He was all Livia could think about; him and his website and the community she created all around him. She was strengthening his image and growing a following that both feared and idolized him. She helped stage the public and media perception with her online popularity.

While watching the comments and discussions buzz in, she sat on the bed of her cramped apartment. Her walls were littered with maps, possible sketches, new articles, photos, and as well as some other more personal touches all centered around him; as of late, she had also included personal letters and fan art. It was chaotic, just like the rest of her room, but this didn't bother Livia. It was a reflection of her tangled mind, her focus solely on the man who she felt avenged her sister's death in a way she truly wished she could have herself. She only saw a purpose tied to him, if that was running ER.net full time or trying to find a way to meet him, everything in her life at this point tied back to him.
​

He was her everything.

Her job, her interest, her hobby, her fixation, her fantasy, her fear, her hope, her dreams, her way of coping, her EVERYTHING.​

It was all done at a distance and never had she gotten her hands dirty behind some secret extremes to get information, so she had always felt safe in her bubble of isolated obsession and investigation. However, that veil of comfort would be ripped from her in the form of text messages.

If it wasn't so specific and not on her personal cell compared to her burner, she wouldn't be so concerned. However, being called out alone was enough to make her blood run cold. Someone might know her secret as 'Lisa Hall', but there was no way they should have her personal number. Not only that, this stranger suggested that he knew where she lived.

However, what was most compelling was the video that was sent. It was too brutal to be easily faked. At that point, Livia felt faint. Not because of the violence sent to her phone, but could it really be HIM?

Her vision blurred, and she felt like her body might collapse. She tried to read the other messages through her doubling vision while it felt as if her heart might leap out of her chest.
​

Don't faint. Don't faint. This is real. Be smart.​

She took a sharp breath, Liv steadied herself to focus on her phone and attempt to ground herself back to reality. She continued to read to find that she had a time limit set in place.

She would have to think later. She had to get back into the city as quickly as possible. She would throw on an oversized coat over her top and shorts before slipping on a white pair of sneakers. She didn't have time to fix her messy hair that was caught in a bun. It was fitting for a girl who spent most of her time locked away in her apartment running a website. Nonetheless, appearance mattered little right now to her. If she missed this chance, she would forever be haunted.

Where it first started?

His first victim was killed in an abandoned warehouse in Iron Gate Industrial Park. Not really a good place to be meeting a killer, but Livia also was hiding her own secrets. If she was truly going to meet a serial killer willingly, it was something best left unknown to not draw attention to herself. Still, Liv wasn't entirely foolish. She knew very well this could be a setup to be killed, but... did it really matter at this point? All that truly mattered was HIM.

She sped away in her old silver sedan onto Highway 76 straight into the heart of the city. With some speeding and luck, she would get there with thirty minutes to spare. She sat outside the abandoned warehouse and wondered if she was supposed to actually meet him there. She had pulled out her phone and thought about sending her location to a few friends just in case, but she paused. her warped mind, not doing so would prove her dedication and her willingness to trust a man she knew could easily slaughter her. She had to make a good impression if this was really the Executioner, although she was mostly a simple girl with a compromised mind.

For about fifteen minutes, Livia sat in her car with it on and her lights off. She looked around for any clues of any others in the area. She had every right to be paranoid, although, despite her delay, she already knew she would be walking in.

Her fate no longer in her own hands as the impulse to enter was far too strong.

With now only fifteen more minutes until the two-hour mark, Livia finally gathered herself enough to turn off her car, hop out, and walk inside. If it was dark, she would use her phone as a flashlight, if not, she would have it casually tucked in her jacket pocket.
​

"Is anyone he-here?"​

 

[Devils Temptation]

Is anyone he-here?​

No response. The abandoned warehouse had been decommissioned for some time - likely to be bulldozed over and replaced with something that had a less grisly backstory. Turning her phone off to search around just had the sight of a cleaned up but completely barren space. Where was he...? There was no one here. Her phone was completely silent and the window was quickly passing. Fifteen minutes. Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve... had she just been scammed by some sick fuck that had gotten their hands on a video to make her feel like she had a chance? Whatever dozens of scenarios might have been running through her mind, the time just continued to tick down minute by minute until finally, at the very last minute mark -

CREAK...

The doors pushed open for the warehouse and someone stepped in. Flashlight waved in Liv's face and the high-vis outfit the man had been wearing in signature orange shades would probably sink any hope whatsoever that she had encountered the right person. Especially after he spoke up with... "M-Miss! You can't be here, this is a construction sight!" ...some mousier appearing man. Messy dark hair and a briefly panicked tone as he hastily approached her before turning his flashlight off. "Please be careful, you could get hurt -" Before he tried his best to usher her out. The way he spoke had that softer tone to it, a little easy to overwhelm and a little too weak to be the person she was looking for. Not a chance that this man could have been him... she must have missed her chance. Her one and only chance to meet the man that had completely reworked her life for the better. Ushering Liv out towards the front gate once more with a few hastier shoves... his demeanor would change entirely once he realized that she was fully alone.

No one had been waiting to jump out at them at the gate, nor had anyone been waiting when he came in... and so while freedom was right in front of her with the open door it would suddenly -

- CRASH shut with the larger man grabbing the metal bar and yanking it close before smothering her smaller, softer body up against it. From the baggier clothes it was hard to tell but now that they were locked against each other - he had a deceptively strong build. Notably masculine and even more so than that, he purposefully hid his actual disposition. Back straightening, frown fading, and an utterly chilling stare that he gave her while half-obscured in the darkness.

"...You really came? Huh... she came. I can't believe it... you really are here." Repeating it to himself over and over again as if he were utterly baffled, a hand would dip into his jacket to pull out a knife. Playful albeit terrifying toss of the handle in the air before he caught it and pointed it straight towards Livia.

Did she make a mistake and she was just going to be next on the list...?!

Even more than that, she saw his face now. Maybe not his eyes, but she could identify him. Somewhat tanned skin, darker hair, messier haircut... decent few inches over her and a nice, bulky build. Of course she should have known, how could a serial killer let a witness run free like that...? Yet, instead of plunging that knife into her throat or her chest, he would just drop it on the ground in front of her and raised his hands in surrender. "That's the only weapon I had, miss... why don't you drop everything too? Leave it all here. We should trust each other, shouldn't we...?" Small, unsettling grin on his face as he turned around to walk off deeper into the warehouse.

Had she wanted to leave, the doors looked bolted shut now from whatever he had pulled. There was only one option and that was to follow him deeper into... wherever he was taking her.

Down the hall and into an underground level of the warehouse where the lights suddenly kicked to life after he flicked a switch. "Let's keep things a little anonymous, Ember. I am the Executioner. That's a little unwieldy to say so how about you just call me 'X'? You want a drink?" Nonchalant, his entire personality seemed to shift on a dime to something more playful and laidback, pulling the mini-fridge open in the basement and luckily for her... no dismembered parts were sitting in there. Just drinks. He'd grab her a water unless she had another request and proceeded to sit down on one of the chairs. The room looked to be a lounge that was cleared out, only two chairs remaining that faced one another. One for him... one for her.

"Tell me something, Em!" Uncorking the power drink he had grabbed for himself, he took a swig and winced slightly, thumb kneading at the side of his brow for... some reason.

"What's the worth of a human being in your eyes?" X had said he dropped his weapons. He had invited her here... so there was nothing to be scared of, right...? His mere presence was ominous - no matter how inviting he attempted to be or with however much charisma he might have possessed, the man felt unpredictable. Practically wild to an extent... but what was she truly expecting if not someone so strange? No one normal would defy society in a way he had, after all...

 

[Passion]

Did she misinterpret the text messages? Was she supposed to go to where her old apartment once stood or where he had killed Henry Weston, where this all started for her? Did he even have that information? It was safer to assume it was here, where the concept of the Executioner was born. However, her doubt started to grow as time continued to march forward. At this rate, she had to be at the wrong location, or he was the one running late.

She then heard the doors, and her breathing halted as she turned to face them. The flashlight blinded her for a moment before she saw a man who looked like he belonged there more than her. "Oh! I'm sorry! I must be at the wrong place!" Her heart fluttered, now a bit more worried about getting some kind of ticket. While Livia was one to find ways to wiggle around the rules for the Executioner, it was done so with careful planning. This… she did not plan for.

She would follow the stranger towards the door. She quickly wanted to get out of there and at least attempt to text back the unknown number. She must have messed up. However, her thoughts were scattered by the slam of the door she was about to walk out of.

"Huh?" Before she could properly question the closed door, she would find herself up against it with the stranger dangerously close. She extended her arms in an attempt to demand space.

So… she failed to find the Executioner and found a creep in a warehouse instead?—Good job, Liv.

"I'm going to go strange home! I'm not looking for trouble!" Yet… she was looking for trouble if she was looking for the Executioner.

It would turn out that she had found him. "What?" She was waiting to confirm, and she had no idea who he thought she was. At this point, she had so many masks due to all her dabbling that she wasn't sure.

The hands that were ready to push at him went up when she saw the blade. She still wasn't 100% sure who she was dealing with, but now it was leaning towards the killer. She hadn't had the slightest idea who the Executioner was. What he looked like. Sounded like. Nothing.

"P-Put that thing away! I don't have any weapons or ill intentions!" While she studied him and his crimes closely, she was not exposed to much violence. It was evident by how she shook like a leaf when close to him, but who could blame the young woman?

He would end up dropping the weapon and mirroring her hands-up gesture. An unspoken promise of a lack of violence, but she figured that could easily change if she wasn't careful. "I only have my phone and my keys." She didn't want to give up her phone. However, chances were he wouldn't even give her the time to call the police if he decided to make her a new victim.

He was trusting her with his appearance, but what good would that actually do? She was a 'no one' on the street and would sound crazy if she just claimed she had met a random person who happened to be the killer that not even the best detectives in the city could find. A whole lot of good that would do her. Maybe she could expose herself as Ember, but she didn't want that too. To be known as the girl who dedicates her life to a man who takes her life could ruin her reputation beyond the internet. Not only that, it would make her a liar. She had promised on her site she wouldn't expose the Executioner if she ever had the chance. Maybe if he started to be more mindless with his crimes, but not while he was taking out bad guys who hid behind their power.

She glanced back at the door just in case she needed to make an escape, but it wouldn't look easy to get out of there. In actuality, she didn't want to leave. She had been waiting to meet the Executioner for the last two years. She had hoped he was the real deal and not some deranged fake.

She would follow him with a heavy heart. She felt like the stupid girl in a horror film as she dared to follow the stranger down to an even darker lower floor that probably cut off any phone service she might have. If she died tonight, she totally deserved it. The difference was that her desire to know the truth, to meet the one who was her hero and her livelihood, was stronger. Without him, her life was empty. It was oddly worth the risk.

She stood there like a deer in headlights when he turned on the lights. She could see him clearly now. Her ears rang when he called her Ember. If he had called her Lisa, she would have been safe. Even if he called her Livia, the girl known for being basically invisible would probably have been better than Ember. He had to know her real name too, probably since he had texted her personal line. How did he piece it together? His kills caused waves of interest and fear to many who might be driven to make a site like E.R.

"Thanks…" She took the water handed to her, but she couldn't even get herself to take another step forward to sit. She just… stood there, unblinking. More than likely questioning if she was dreaming or if she was still somehow about to die even if he dropped his knife.

He questioned her, and she stood there in silence for a few long seconds. "The worth of a human being depends on the person. If you are really the Executioner, then you know this." His victims were usually scum, although, like most, Liv wasn't clued in enough to know this was about power. As a victim of one of the men he killed, she was one of those who saw him as an icon of justice, whether he liked that or not.

Finally, she would take a step forward. The gesture had some conviction in it, although she still would not sit. "If you are actually him, then I really have to talk to you." She had been dying to talk to him like she had done plenty of times in unsent letters. In her mind, her dreams, her journals… and yet now that she was potentially face-to-face with him, her mind was consumed with so many words and emotions; how could she even begin to convey them? She had almost wished she had written a speech in some desperate attempt to organize it all.

It made her feel dizzy and overwhelmed. She had so much drive which was both her strength and weakness.

"To be honest… I don't really know where to start. But… really… you are him?!" There was hope in her voice. A tone that was the complete opposite of the dread of his victims. Based on the way her eyes started to shine, she was on the verge of being starstruck compared to terrified. It further proved that indeed she was the mastermind behind the website that stalked every little thing he did or even might have done and even had fan art and writing contests.

Squeezing the water bottle in her hand from her own brewing tension. "My turn to ask a question. X, why did you want to meet me?" His answer could shape this whole interaction, as not even Ember could make sense of it. For how much she studied him, she actually knew very little. However, the simple-looking girl was noting his every word, movement, and even breath. He was her fixation, as he had been ever since he killed the man who killed her sister and burned away everything she ever owned.

 

[Devils Temptation]

The worth of a human being depends on the person.
If you are really the Executioner, then you know this.​

"And why would I know that? Is there something special about me that gives me the right to judge another person? What about you? Who gets to make that call? It's all a little strange, don't you think? We're always told growing up that all people are equal. In that sense of the word, does it really depend on the person?" Twirling the can around in his hand, he would take another swig and in spite of the nature of what he was drinking - the look in his eyes hardly changed. Somewhere in between wildly animated and languished, he moved and spoke as if at any time he was midway between bored and overwhelmingly ecstatic. Two faces. One person. It was hard to tell which one she was talking to... or if it was even a good idea to talk to someone like that. Taking another sip from the can, he would set it down onto the table beside him with a crunching THUNK.

But… really… you are him?!​

"Sure I am. Want some proof? Should I take you along with me? Sorry, honey... you don't really strike me as the type to do what I do. You'll just have to take my word for it! Oh well..." Hands outstretched wide with a shrug grazing her eyes. Either he was lying or he was not. If it was not him, it still stood to reason he would have known who the real Executioner was - there was no other way to get that video that had been sent to her over text, was there...? Yet, maybe he wasn't exactly what she was expecting. Not quite how the art seemed to depict him, nor was his personality quite like what his fans might have expected.

Something like that hardly mattered though. This wasn't a fucking show. She was here because she could have been useful to him.

why did you want to meet me?​

"Hm? Now... why does there need to be a reason?" Warm breath spilled against her jawline. All of a sudden, he was dangerously close. Palm against her jawline and the splash of his breath against her neck with that lower tone hitting just right against her ear. "...Is it so surprising that I noticed you, a woman that admired me so much and wanted to make her day? Hmmm? Maybe I found you very pretty and just wanted to thank you for the image you painted of me..." One hand remained on her thigh, holding it firmly. Every second felt like those lips were going to plant down against her neck... that he was going to devour her in another sort of way. Inevitably? He would just pull back without another word before the excitement, the heat could build too much and with it he was lounging back in his seat again. One leg crossed over his knee while he eyed down the energy drink to see if anything was remaining in it.

"You're very pretty, sure, I was wondering if you wanted to be an accomplice, actually. Like most people, I'm rather petty. I want to accomplish something, put my hands on someone, get something -- and when I can't do that I get very upset. You know how it is, right? To be deprive of something that you need to live." Of course not... not yet, at least. No one would understand what it was like to feel that crippling urge. Royce knew that in his heart, it was the reason he was so ostracized in society. Men like him did not belong in a world like this. Or if they did, it was behind bars where they could not hurt others.

"Your turn... why don't you tell me exactly why it is you're so fascinated with me?" Stepping out of his seat, he would give a small twist to slide behind her seat - taking those last few steps to plant his hands flat atop her shoulder and lean in a little closer once more. "I've thought and I've thought... and I cannot fathom why a woman like you would be so wild about a man like me. You wouldn't happen to be a cop, would you...? Nothing about you gives the vibe. So I wonder what it is?" Traces of his fingertips over the line of her shoulders, transitioning into the firmer knead into those rougher knots along her shoulders. Royce was trying to put her at ease... or at least it appeared to be so, his presence was always a little off regardless of what he did. "Maybe you're like those other women that fantasize over terrible men and that's why...? Do you want me to fuck you, Em? Did your thighs squeeze together watching some of the things I did?"

That was one possibility. Men like him always had a following. Some of the sickest, most depraved fan base-- people who were utterly fascinated and charmed by what seemed to be a charismatic man willing to take what he wanted. "Or... maybe we are linked in another way. Did I kill someone you knew? Maybe you're here for revenge?" Hands growing slack over her shoulders with a warning that sounded so sugary sweet despite the venom dripping off of it."...You should really reconsider if so." Another pause before he went back to massaging her shoulders. He did not look it but there was incredible strength in his palms. Most detectives assumed he was quite a bit larger than he actually was. The sheer strength needed to decapitate someone was hardly easy to come by...

"Haha! Relax, sweetheart." Cupping her chin, he would press a kiss to her cheek. "You're a superfan, right? So you know I don't kill women. They're not my preferred type of prey. I just want to know what makes your head tick. You'll be honest with me... won't you? You're the only one I've talked to about this side since... God, who knows how long it's been?!" Pulling his hands off of her, he would spin around and lean against her chair from behind, keeping his gaze on her from behind while waiting for her answer.

 

[Passion]

"We could get lost in semantics, but sometimes all you need is a bit of common sense and basic morals to know if one life is worth more than another. You target those who have committed terrible, greedy crimes. How can you say their lives are as valuable as those of regular, everyday people?" To her, it was that simple. Most of those he targeted had dark, unforgivable sins that they kept getting away with. Sins they would probably never repent for.

It was hard to believe she was finally meeting the man she had devoted the last few years of her life to. She still wasn't sure how to take it, and she didn't know how she wanted to present herself. How much did she really know about the man before her? He could be some kind of copycat. Until now, she had no idea who the Executioner was. He could have been old, young, crazed, serious; who knew especially if not her?

Every second she spent with him filled in the blanks about the man she had been writing unsent letters to, the one she had obsessed over, dissecting the smallest and often meaningless clues, the one who had taken justice into his own hands for her and her sister.

Honestly, she had no clue what the real Executioner thought of her website, and it was something she had often wondered about. Did he find it annoying? Invasive? Would the details she posted backfire and get him caught? Did he see it as amusing? Pathetic? Respectable? Even now, she had little idea. At least he didn't seem spiteful, but who knew what was really running through a murderer's mind?

"I'd think there would be a reason." ...Why was he so close again? She didn't want to be scared. If anything, she wanted to be friendly, but his presence made her anxious. She still wasn't sure if she was safe, and in general, the shock of finally meeting him lingered. It made how he continued to push at her boundaries seep into her skin.


Putting down her bottle, she placed her hands on his shoulders, a semi-polite gesture for space. While she spoke highly of him online nearly every day, while her posts had grown more deluded over time, she was hardly romantic. A tad, perhaps—like a fangirl praising a hero—but her lack of knowing him, not even a silhouette or a decent witness report, had left her feeling disconnected...

Until now.​

It hit her like a ton of bricks when her fixation and reality meshed, and she wasn't ready for it. His touch alone nearly knocked the air from her lungs. Her eyes fell half-shut, dazed.

"I...I don't feel good…" she confessed as his lips neared her delicate neck. Why was she paralyzed and finding it hard to think?

IT'S HIM. IT'S HIM. IT'S HIM. IT'S HIM. IT'S HIM. IT'S HIM. IT'S HIM. IT'S HIM.​

He pulled away, and Liv returned to reality, straightening her posture, her face glowing a soft shade of pink. "Sorry, this is… a lot." Timidly, she looked down for a few moments. Why was she like this? She should be more worried about being a woman alone in an abandoned warehouse with a strange man than her feelings.

"An accomplice?" She echoed, pointing at herself in disbelief. "M-Me?!" She had the power to send a strong public message for him, and running the site had shown a sense of loyalty, but other than that, Livia was just an ordinary girl. What could she possibly do for him?

He would question her, but before she could answer, he had found his way behind her to start rubbing her shoulders. He would surely feel the extreme amount of tension she currently had meeting him for the first time. It was hard to relax, especially when he would consider that she was working against him. Could she be running this site just to catch him? No… far too much fucked-up effort for that, despite how wanted he was.

When he suggested it was lust, she shook her head. "N-no, I don't even know you!" But the second he said it, she thought about it now that she had a face and body to put such thoughts to. The vivid thought alone was all that it took for the seed he planted to germinate, all while she was already tangled in thoughts of him. She was dangerously impressionable when it came to the one she was consumed by.

He killed the rising tension with a laugh and a kiss on her cheek. Liv would shake her head lightly to regain some of her senses. It didn't work.

"I know you don't kill women, but that doesn't mean you couldn't make me your first… maybe you don't like me for my website." She hesitated. After all her time and effort, she wanted his opinion on what he thought about EMBER and her efforts.

Her hands rested on her lap, thumbs trailing along the trim of her shorts as she fidgeted. "I want you to tell me as much as you're willing about this side of you. I swear on my life (literally) that I won't post anything without your permission." She understood how delicate this matter was. She could have every cop in the city and beyond looking for him, and he could kill her in an instant. It was so simple… and yet, so much was on the line.

"You killed Henry Weston. The man who set fires to his own properties for insurance money and kept getting away with it. One of those fires took my sister. The only family I had in this state. Not only that, but I lived there. I lost everything I owned." She fell silent, the weight of her past settling over her.

"I fought so hard to get him arrested, or at least sue him, but he was untouchable, especially for a nobody like me. But I didn't give up. I ran an old site that I'm guessing you found me through it—to try to bring justice. I was unheard of compared to E.R., but I never gave up. I couldn't focus on anything else. It consumed me. And then…"

"You."

She turned, sitting sideways on the chair so she could glance up at him. "You knew he was a terrible man. You punished him when I couldn't." She stood, facing him, a hand hovering near her chest as if her heart might leap out.

"X, I don't know why you personally killed Henry Weston, but… I've dreamt of this moment to thank you. Not just for killing Henry, but for all the terrible people you've killed. I don't see you as one of them. Not unless you kill someone who doesn't deserve it, but… even then… you're the one who killed Henry Weston. I wish I could have seen it myself."

Her eyes widened, a rush surging through her body. Whether it was the glimmer in her gaze, the raw emotion laced in her words, or how her soft presence suddenly sharpened, she was emitting an aura of something unhinged. She didn't kill—but she wasn't normal either.

"Thank you, X. Thank you. Thank you. I can never thank you enough." Her green eyes shimmered with tears, which she brushed away. "You gave me relief after so many years. You probably saved my life." She sniffled. "I'm sure my building was next on Henry's list." She took a step closer to him without a plan; she felt a pull towards the man who freed her from years of grief, although she was left with obsession. "I do know what it is like to be deprived of something that I need to live. Before you killed Henery, I was dead inside. You might kill some, but you brought me back to life."

She was overwhelmed by her mind rearranging her thoughts around X. There had been a puzzle in her mind surrounding him. And now, standing before her, was the biggest piece of the puzzle.​

Him.​

 

[Devils Temptation]

You knew he was a terrible man. You punished him when I couldn't.​

...

Punishment...? That name was familiar to him. Henry. Henry Weston... who was that again? It wasn't as if he particular cared about his victims after he was done with them. At that point, he had already gotten his fun out of them. Closing his eyes, he recalled. Faces. Conversations. Places. Right. There was someone by that name, wasn't there? Not someone particularly malicious compared to his other marks... just a man that was the epitome of greed. So much wealth under his control and so little regard for human life in spite of it. Royce thought that one was fantastic. He created an entire empire off of screwing other people! While she might have taken his silence, his closed eyes as contemplation, there was something a little more sinister brimming beneath the hood... a much uglier reality that, had she seen, she would have ran for her fucking life.

He was replaying it in his head.

The way the man pleaded, how he begged, how he showed off all his assets... the conversation had started precisely like that. Flaunting his own incredible money and insulting his poor origins. Every taunt that came out of his mouth turned into a plead just as quickly once Royce had quite calmly shown him that there was nothing he could have done to escape his fate. The moment that happened, it turned to pleading - to give him every stolen, dirty, filthy fucking asset on a silver platter.

So he begged...

...and begged...

...until his very last breath.

Why had he gone after that man? In front of her was a paragon of justice. Someone who spoke for those who had been silenced, those who were kept down. Repressed, powerless, weak - for him it was just another day like any other. Royce knew nothing of any illegal operations... just that Henry was a terrible human being by word of mouth. One that served as some of the wealthiest in the county and one that painted the real estate industry in a deep, red shade. The more he dug, the more he realized that his prey was just as rotten as he might have hoped. Powerful, rich, influential - that made him hungry. There was nothing more to it than the thrill of devouring someone that was so far above him by societal standards.

There was no thought of revenge. No thought of retribution for those ruined by that man's hand. There was only the sadistic satisfaction of showing to someone so rich and powerful how worthless their money was - to reduce them to nothing and crush them underfoot like an ant being snuffed out. Oh, he could taste it again. It tasted so fucking good --

Not unless you kill someone who doesn't deserve it, but… even then… you're the one who killed Henry Weston. I wish I could have seen it myself.
​

Snapped out of his fantasy right then and there by that little songbird that couldn't help but hum pure praise into his ear. Faint flush over his features and the tremble of his squeezed fist would go lax. She misunderstood... so did everyone - but she said something that caught his attention. She wanted to see it? "He begged a lot. Did you know? Maybe not. I don't record anything of my victims. That's meant only for my eyes... but he repented plenty in those final moments. Do you still think he deserved it?" Demons hid in beautiful masks to attract humans... and this one had his very own. Warm, charming smile and the all too sugary way his deeper tone brushed against her ear when he leaned forward and grabbed at the wrist that had planted her hand over her chest. Slow, practically sensual grazes of his thumb along her side of her forearm. "...He pleaded on how he would be better, how he'd stop cutting corners, stop taking the easy way out, would repay everyone he wronged -- that might've even been you. You could've been rich, you know?"

Slowly, his grip started to tighten... he didn't need someone so weak and easily tempted. Whatever rage she might have been holding out, crushed by the fact that he had commit that revenge she was incapable of, he took those ashes and embers and he would make them smolder. "Close your eyes... fantasize a little for me... it's a terrible world out there so we need to cope somehow. Unfair, painful, evil..." Both arms slid around her waist, grabbing at both of her wrists and guiding her to cup them together as if she were gripping something. Both palms on top of her own from behind, hand squeezing a little more harshly to seal the grip entirely -

"Close them..." Another tender caress... the call of a demon that was completely buried under the saccharine tenderness of an angel.

"Look. He's right in front of you. Can you feel it...? See it?" If nothing else... if she just turned out to be like all the rest, he was sure he could get rid of her easily enough. Women weren't particularly enjoyable to torment... but they weren't particularly difficult to break either. Terrifying her beyond repair was a valid solution to keep her from running her mouth -- but that was only if he found that she was too tender to make it into this life.

Wicked grin spread across his features, faint touch of a smirk on his tone. Arrogant and haughty, just like that fucking bastard Henry. "...Look at that wrinkled grin, the way he's sweating a little off his brow. Hands together, begging that he'd do everything right - that you wouldn't have to worry about it. All you need to do... all you need to do is drop the knife, Ember. Just drop the knife. Just sweep everything under the rug. Imagine all the money he could give you... you would never have to worry about where to live anymore. All you need to do is let go of your sister." Temptations one after the other before he reminded her what her grudge had been inspired from, where everything had started, WHERE THAT HELL IN HER LIFE FUCKING BEGAN.

"...Remember your sister. Remember what he did to her. Do you know how painful it is to burn to death? Your skin melting off, screaming in agony as every nerve in your body is mercilessly torn apart... remember, remember, remember." There was no way to take her back to those days that her sister was alive. No way to take her back to those days that Henry was alive so she could get her closure or even know what he truly would have said.

The only thing was what was in her mind. The fantasies she could conjure. The violent, sadistic whisper against her ear that constantly coaxed her to lose her morals entirely. To be his pretty little accomplice.

"Ember... make a choice. The weight of the knife is a little too much, isn't it? Look... it can be so heavy." Her hands would have tightened around something hefty. The handle of a... knife? He had another one? There was no time to worry about any of that. Not doing anything was the same as making a decision. Of course, there was no body in front of her... but he wanted to know if her rage would make her snap and stab that knife into the office chair right in front of them as if it were the chest of a human being.

...Surely not, right?

 

[Passion]

Her wrist was taken, guiding her to feel her own quickened heart. Her eyes locked onto his face, and her doubts about who he truly was began to fade as he spoke about the final moments of Henry Weston. Each year that man had evaded justice, her hatred for him had grown more bitter and twisted. She had thought about it every single day since her sister's death, and in time, she had come to desire his suffering.

"He still deserved it," she said without hesitation. "He had years to step up and offer goodwill or apologize to try to make amends. It shouldn't take staring death in the face for someone to finally repent. If anything, it shows how selfish he really was." She glanced down at his hand, still uncertain about this closeness, yet too drawn to pull away.

Now with both wrists captured, she would follow along. She closed her eyes and tensed when he made her picture Henry. The man was dead, and she was glad he was. X had put this to rest for her, or so she thought, and now she was being asked to revive him in her mind? It was sickening. Worse still were the memories of hellish flames, the searing pain, the ashes, the death, and the trauma they had left behind. Yet despite all that, Ember had said she wished she'd been there. She had wanted to savor the suffering of the man who had brought so much of it to her own life. The only way for her to taste it now was to go back.

"Money won't bring my sister back," she said quietly in response to the idea of a payout. Wealth meant nothing to her, though she had attempted to sue him since it was the only legal option she had to punish him. But over time, her spite had twisted into something far uglier, and now it was surfacing... financial punishment wouldn't have been enough.

The screams from that day still haunted her nightmares. They hadn't even sounded human, just pure, raw agony. None of the victims deserved the horrific fate Weston had dealt them. Thinking of the pain her sister endured made her want to break down and cry right there. It was deeply upsetting. X even mentioning it felt cruel, though she couldn't be surprised that a serial killer would exploit a newfound weakness of hers so quickly.

She wasn't sure what was in her hands now, but whatever it was, it felt like a weapon in this context. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself while her mind burned with memories of the past. The helplessness as the flames roared and the legal system refused to hold Henry accountable, despite all the patterns of his fatal greed. It would forever be a scar that stung.

"Henry…" Her voice shook. "I wanted to tell you how much I hate you. I never knew I was capable of such hate, and honestly… I wish I never knew of it." She spoke as if he were right there in front of her, forced to listen. "I watched you get away with it again and again. I'm sure you thought you had the city wrapped around your finger. I knew it was only a matter of time before I woke up burning just like my sister unless you were stopped. It's unfair that you lived a life of luxury built on the suffering of so many."

Her body trembled like a leaf, her breathing hard and sharp as her emotions surged. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. If it weren't for the fear of getting caught, she probably would have killed Henry herself at some point. The thought had consumed her life, just as X had now. It was painfully easy to imagine driving a knife through the man's chest, and that was exactly what she would do.

There were no more words to waste. A man like Henry Weston would never understand. Trying to explain anything to him would be pointless. She was sure he had begged for his life while thinking of lavish vacations and real estate, never sparing a thought for people like her, people who would be forever haunted by his selfish greed.

"BURNING FOR ETERNALITY IN THE DEEPEST PIT OF HELL
IS THE ONLY PUNISHMENT SUITABLE ENOUGH FOR A MONSTER LIKE YOU!"​

Opening up her eyes, she was blinded by tears, she screamed and lunged toward the chair, stabbing with all her strength. The force behind her strike was so fierce that had the chair moved, she would have spun and fallen. Every ounce of her body, her strength, and her pain poured into that violent attack.

 

[Devils Temptation]

SPLATTER.

Foam splashed in every direction the moment she drove that knife in, gushing onto the cushion and seat below with Royce jumping back half in surprise and half in sheer, manic amusement at the sight of her literally losing her mind at the mere prospect of stabbing the man that had ruined her life. "Ha... ahahahaha! Easy now! You can't hit a climax that hard with something so unsatisfying!" Recoiling a few steps from the clearly unstable, shaking girl - he was still in perfect range for her to swing back and grab him with the knife that he had just handed her... though he hardly cared. Instead, he seemed to admire her handiwork. Sloppy for a proper kill but for someone's first time, a plunge like that would have completely opened a gaping hole in anyone's chest. ...Would she have stopped when she met the wretch of muscle or the toughness of bone? Or would she plunge over and over again until she finished the job?

Royce quietly contemplated, hand on his chin and the smile vanishing entirely from his face. That... that part of her was interesting. Society existed on the mundane. Norms that ensured that people would not turn on one another and bare their fangs into each other. Rules, laws, common sense. If he stripped back all of that what was really left? Raw, vivid emotion so overwhelming that it could make anyone dizzy and feral. For as much of a mess as Liv's face had been in that moment, drenched in tears and shaking with so much emotion that she could hardly get another word out with feeling that adrenaline high - he could not help but find it beautiful.

...Had he looked like that in his moments that he finished someone off?

God, he felt so alive in those moments...!

One deep inhale would have his elated pulse slowly easing to a glide. Pushing someone like her too much would cause her to snap like brittle metal... but he wondered how malleable he could get her if he tempered her... heated her up, softened her, pounded her into increasingly stronger of a shape. Could he have her matching his image? By the time he reached forward once more, that wild grin had vanished entirely from his face and a hand would cup at her jawline. Thumb slowly sweeping along the underside of her gaze and his forehead resting right over her own with a single, shaky breath breaking his silence towards her. "Feels wrong, doesn't it...? A person shouldn't get off on hurting someone like that... but they had it coming. And nothing will happen to them otherwise. You're not a bad girl. You did very well, actually." Swiping those thicker tears off the side of her jaw and cheek, he would take a few moments to meticulously care for her.

Stroking her hair, caressing her cheek, whispering softer assurances into her ear.

"Everything's going to be okay..."

"There you go, let it all out - no one else has to know about this but you and me."

"Doesn't it feel a little lighter to say those things publicly? You can't even state words like these on your forums..."

"With me, you're completely free to have whatever you want..."

Over and over until he felt that he could separate from her and ease the knife out of her hand fully - if she had not dropped it. The seat had been ruined and so he instead slumped down onto Livia's seat, pulling her by the wrist to sit her down atop his lap - legs hanging off one end of his thighs. Royce squeezed atop her palm and that hypnotic grin of his would return back to his face. "I won't make you hurt anyone. You don't need to do any of that... but the city is getting a little more careful and I can't scout out everything I need to. Or get the information I need. You know... there's going to be more victims like you? People happily abuse those they can get away with. You don't have to help me but --" Words trailing off as he put on a 'fake' conflicted expression atop his features. Furrowed brows and the smallest grimace at the edge of his smile.

"--you do know you wont feel like this with anyone else but me, right?" Leaning closer, he whispered against her ear... "You can just go back to you usual life, Liv... but don't ever say this out loud. Even if he did deserve it. Society will see it as wrong. Just live quietly. That's all you can do if you leave here." Weak. Small. Inconsequential. The same bawling girl that watched her sister get utterly roasted alive with not a single muscle moved to help her. That was all she would return to without him... but by his side? There was so much more she could do. So many more emotions she could act on and someone else who would never judge her for what she truly wanted to do. It was just like Royce said - that part of his speech was not a lie. There would be countless more like Liv in the coming years.

They were made every single day or every single week of every single month... over and over. A never ending cycle of the powerful and affluent abusing the defenseless, weaker class for whatever their desires might have been.

Royce had no intention to change society. Just to sow terror among those who felt they were untouchable.

 

[Passion]

Gripping the handle of the knife, Livia trembled in place. Her trauma regarding that fiery night was still engrossing. Had the murder of Henry Weston really freed her from her pain? Such a question would be valid, but she did still have so much relief knowing at the end he was left begging for his life. He should have been burned alive over and over again, but knowing he no longer breathed did give her some peace. However, as she stood there shaking and wide-eyed, it was evident that she was still quite disturbed. Chances were she would be until her final breath.

Feeling his unfamiliar touch on her nearly made her jump, but she would ease to listen to the man she had seen as her hero for years.

"I shouldn't still have all this rage!" She had felt her buried emotions surface when she had plunged the knife. These emotions were violent, painful, and consuming. "It feels so good to let it out, but—" she didn't have words to explain the rush she was feeling. It was as pleasant as it was scary.

As tears continued to blur her vision, he offered words of compassion, words that made her sob harder, yet also stirred a fierce urge to stab and claw at the chair. No... this wasn't how she had wanted their first meeting to go! She had hoped to appear calm and composed, but instead, he was witnessing the fires that still raged in her mind since that cruel, fateful night.

How embarrassing...

With his patience, Livia would find some of her ground again. Untensing enough that he could retrieve his weapon without issue. Dazed, her body easily fell into his lap. She sniffled and tried her best to gather herself while he explained her possible role in this all. Despite her moment of vulnerability, she felt her spirit stir awake at the mention of her inability to feel this way about anyone else. She knew this well. There was no one else to whom she would dedicate her life, career, and even sanity to. However, what stuck out most was him saying her real name.

They both knew too much.

"I'm insulted that you think you need to tempt me." She reached up and her fingertips touched his jaw carefully. Tracing his shape as if making sure if he was real or if this was just another vivid dream. It all still felt so surreal. With a deep breath, she confessed the obvious simply by how active her site was, "After all, you have been who I think about every hour of every day." Her fingers slipped up the side of his face before her fingertips raked through the hair on the side of his head. She had given him a warm smile despite her tear-stained face.

They had just met face to face, but she was already captured by him in a way that went far beyond anything physical.

"No one on this planet is as dedicated to you as me. I've built a stage, a place of reference, a creative outlet, and even a community of followers for you. I've grown your reputation so even more people both fear and respect you. I don't know you well enough to know if any of that appeases you… but the fact it is all for you should mean something." She desperately searched his eyes for a hint of his pleasure with her.

"I'd do just about anything for you that doesn't take me away from you. So I'm not looking to get arrested or killed but besides that—" She considered her dangerous implication that she would possibly do anything for him. There had to be limits… but there were few, especially in the short term.

"I'd kill for you if we could get away from it." She cringed a bit at her own words. With the way she said it, she would do it, but she didn't seem to want to do it. She was too innocent to know bloodlust, but she was warped enough to take things too far for the wrong right person.

She lowered her hand back to her lap. Was she coming off too strong? No... if he knew of her as Ember, then he knew he was meeting his biggest public fan. "I'm quite good at gathering information and getting into places I don't belong. Let me know how I can help, and consider it done. I owe you so much, X..." Based on some of the information she released on E.R., she was willing to take some pretty big risks from lying about her identity to sneaking into restricted areas. X had to be careful, to give her an impossible goal would make her short circuit while trying to make it a reality.

 

[Devils Temptation]

I'm insulted that you think you need to tempt me.​

"Oh, but I'm not! Now, why would you think that? Tempt you? It's important when you play roulette... that all the rules are laid on the table - otherwise, it really isn't all that fair, is it?" Grinning, the arch of his smile pressed against that handsome, sharper jawline. Certainly not a bad looking man by any metric... if not for the more quiet, gloomier vibe he took upon himself, it was easy to perceive him as attractive. The vibrance, the energy, the charisma... he felt so different in moments like these. That smile of hers was pretty but how much better would it have looked after she cracked it in that moment she snuffed out someone's life? Royce couldn't help but wonder. She claimed she could do it, that he she was obsessed... PASSIONATE about him but how much was the truth and how much was some pathetic schoolgirl's crush?

Either she would sink or she would swim when the time came.

...He was interested enough in knowing exactly which she would be even if she ended up not being useful to him. There was a morbid fascination to seeing whether or not he was truly unique in this world.

I don't know you well enough to know if any of that appeases you… but the fact it is all for you should mean something. ​

"Hmmmm~? Now... what makes you think I even want all that spotlight? Do you think I do it for the fame? Or the attention? But yeah! You sure are right! Hahahaha! You couldn't be more right - just the mere action itself is just so..." Adorable. Like a puppy trailing after him - ♡ Even in that moment he had not really cared for her in the way she seemed to think he had. Livia was just a normal girl. Another mundane woman in this world that abided by such strict, pointless laws. The interest and affection that glinted in his eyes was blatantly present but the nature of it was not something she would be able to understand. Not as a woman, or a love interest, or even as a partner... just some interesting little tidbit he wanted to unravel.

I'd kill for you if we could get away from it.​

Another grin. Wicked and broad, revealing the glint of his teeth and just the faintest shift of his hair that revealed the look in his eyes further. His hair was naturally messy so it was hard to really get a proper read on the expression he wore at any given moment - "...Are you sure of that?" Grim. His tone had turned blunt and firm, the smile left his expression and a harsher grimace would have etched along his lips. Gripping under her chin, he raised it just enough and pressed his thumb along the lower lip with a firm roll and knead. "If you do that... you know you'll have to leave your life behind, right? You'll be completely mine at that point. Nowhere to go... no one to turn to... but me. Are you really ready for all that? You can't blame me for being skeptical, can you? So... how about this - I'll promise you just one thing." Sliding her off his lap, he would dip a hand into his pocket to pull his phone out once more. His actual phone. Something that was worth its weight in gold to the police.

"Let's test how suited you are to this life first... I'll give you three trials. Each harder than the last. If you can manage them - you're going to become MY woman. Let me show you my vision for the type of place this world should really be. But... if you fail at any of them, I'll drop you right back in your life and you'll never see me again. Sounds fair, right? You said you didn't want to get arrested or killed... I can't take you with me if it ends up being the case that you can't keep up!" Royce threw his arms up in that playful, matter-of-fact sort of way. Dangling the ultimate prize in front of her, to be that agent of change she begged for so many times... to be his. To belong to the one object of her complete and utter fascination... could she really have something so wonderful?

One finger was held up in front of her, cryptic grin returning once more.

"Step one... nice and simple. You're going to infiltrate this building. It's holding a press conference. Certain... bigwig CEO that's paying a visit. They're on high alert for anyone influential in this part of the city. Go in, join the conference... your goal is pretty basic. Just take note of the cameras and security, the exits and routes taken by the VIP. They'll be residing in this building for a while and they'll have a few more interviews. A good hunter needs to know what way the rabbit will run, don't they?" Keeping the phone open in front of her, he flipped to the article detailing the address... the person in question - he slowly roped her into something that seemed far removed from actually getting her hands dirty... and yet so fucking tantalizing ...she would be mapping out the death of someone by her actions. Could she really stomach it?

Sometimes all someone needed was the slightest nudge to lose their minds entirely... he knew that best of all with the sheer desperation he had witnessed in his time as the Executioner.

Love-starved. Obsessed. Needy.

He gripped her chin -

"...you can be a good girl for me, Livia... now can't you?"
​

Before their lips met once and for all. A brief, chaste kiss that barely let the poor girl savor his taste - or the warmth of his lips - all he did was expose her to what it felt like to be taken by him for a fraction of a second.

 

[Passion]

She bit her lower lip, her eyes flickering with intensity as his statement lingered. She craved his thoughts on her work and efforts, even if they meant little to him. To her, it was a passion project built entirely around him, yet he offered little feedback. At least he didn't seem displeased.

"While I want to know, how was I supposed to know what you would like? You never left behind many clues, so it has been difficult to piece together a picture." Now, just being in the same room as him was finally letting her have a glimpse of the elusive man she had been so fixated on.

Without missing a beat, she would nod her head. "Yes, I am sure. Why would you doubt someone like Ember?" The online alias had been writing articles, personal thoughts, fiction, and so on about him. She had always supported him as the hero she thought he was.

Killing was something she had considered while lost in the limbo of her own mind, where her warped thoughts always led back to him. She owed this man everything and felt compelled to honor him, willing to go to extremes to prove the depths of her devotion. Could he truly grasp that Livia's entire world revolved around him? She had nothing to lose except him; no job, no family, and only a handful of 'friends'; most of whom were just fellow admins of the site and community she built in his name.

A normal girl?
Ha.

"I have nothing to leave behind. You are my life." Again, her goals were simple: to not get arrested or killed, as it would take her away from him. Nothing else really mattered at this point in her life. "I am already yours." It felt weird saying such a thing to an unfamiliar face… but he did own her reality. Perhaps she needed to be guided to see the bigger picture, but Livia was happy to be blinded as long as he was in her life.

"We've only just met, but since the fire, you and my hatred for Henry have been all I've had. I don't blame you for being skeptical, but not only am I Ember, I'm also... different. But… I don't want to scare you off because of it." Scare off a killer? However, she knew how easily men could interpret a woman's attachment as suffocating. The way he doubted her willingness showed he didn't yet understand...

He would, but would he still accept her?

She would return to her feet and become distressed and disturbed at the mention of trials. She started to breathe harder, her complexion losing some color... This was not a game. In this case, failure would probably lead to her death… literally. Not because of what he might put her through, but—

SHE COULDN'T LIVE WITH FAILURE,
BECAUSE SHE COULDN'T LIVE WITHOUT HIM.​

The realization caused her mind to buzz and her stomach to flip. "I…" She took a breath, and the girl gagged as anxiety gripped her. "X, I can't—" How could she agree to something that could result in her NEVER seeing him again? What if she failed despite her best efforts or if something happened beyond her control? "I'll do what you wish, but I can't agree to such consequences." How could she tell him that it would be breaking one of her rules, that it risked her life without sounding like a damn nutjob?

HE DIDN'T UNDERSTAND!​

But why would he? He didn't know how warped she was unless maybe he studied between the lines of her forum posts and patterns. It was for the best that he didn't know. She knew logically devoting her life to one person was foolish, but how he moved her and changed her life was mind-altering.

At least the first trial did not sound very hard based on the fact that it danced close to what she already had experience with. She carefully read the address… but her vision blurred. "Can you send me this information? I can't think..." Her head was still spinning.​

Keep yourself together, Liv…
He isn't going to want some damaged and unstable girl on his side.​

Her face was taken, and she found herself dangerously close to him. She stopped breathing, and the brief kiss sent her over the edge. Between meeting him for the first time, the high-stakes agreement she was being pressured to take, and now a hint of what it would be like to be his… The spark brought to life new fantasies and future daydreams.

She fell forward as if trying to greedily capture his lips once more, but…

All had faded to black. ​

Livia had fallen against him and passed out, overwhelmed by the weight of it all and possibly by the fact that he could make her forget to breathe. Could she handle this life? It didn't seem like it, but she had the potential to based on how important this was to her. To doubt the spirit of someone as fueled as Liv was a mistake.

Livia would awaken after twenty seconds or so. Confused for a moment before deeply mortified. "I-I'm so sorry! I-I can do it! Trust me, I won't let you down!" She couldn't afford to. Still, she wished she could curl up and hide. Her self-control around him was poor... How embarrassing…