Chapter Text
Blood was always the worst to clean up. [F/N] glances at the blood splattered all over the clothing they had set on their bed, sighing.
The rush was incredible, feeling the blade dip under their victim's skin.
Red was such a pretty color. Especially on the pretty people, they picked. They feel their cheeks heat up at the thought of the beauty’s tears and beautiful cries—heart racing at the begging. The dark purple and blues like galaxies bruising that’d form on their perfect canvas.
Their victims were always so pretty. Eye candy they’d track down and seduce. [F/N] was a charmer, none of them suspected how fucked they were.
They breathe in, feeling their hands tremble in excitement, thinking about the beautiful flowers they cut and crush.
The eyes were plucked and kept in jars for [F/N] to admire. Locks of hair were braided and put in binders with photos they had taken for safekeeping.
Their pretty hands, if only there were a way to preserve it in its absolute perfection. [F/N] made sure to hold their lover’s hands before making the fingerprints unrecognizable.
The list of loves [F/N] had was long, what can they say? They're a romantic.
Pretty people shoot them in their heart with an arrow, and just like that, they slip and fall. They pick themself back up, ready to hunt and take what's theirs.
Curling their fingers around their lovers' hearts to take. They are no better than the people who cut flowers and leave them to wither— admiring the beauty until signs of life are gone.
Now that isn’t to say that everyone thought their lovers were as pretty as [F/N] did. And on occasion, when someone would speak ill of their lover, they might have slipped a pill into their drink.
Not to kill, of course, [F/N] would never let their hands soak in the blood of some ugly scum. Their lovers were the only people they would murder.
[F/N] forced a smile, picking their bloodied clothing up. It was time to clean up after their date, as per usual.
The latest darling to join their collection of butterflies was a lovely boy. His lips were painted in a deep red lipstick, [F/N] smudged with their thumb accidentally. He just wouldn’t keep her jaw open. It was truly unfortunate that they had to break it. He put up such a good fight too, bruising their arms and face.
But he was just too pretty to let fly away.
The cold water was ready for them to work the stains out. They wore yellow gloves for dishes, scrubbing the blood from their clothing when their phone rang.
They pause, smiling falling slightly.
It was late. Who could be calling at this hour?
They set the clothes in the water mixture and took their gloves off.
“Hello?” [F/N] asked, adding a smile to their voice.
“Hey,” A deep voice responded. Ah. Murdock.
They hummed, leaning against the bathroom door frame, “Calling so late, Mister?”
He chuckles from the other side of the line, “I do hope you don’t… mind?”
“With you, never.”
Murdock was their newest love. Yes, it was fast, they just had a date tonight with the pretty lady, but he… he was extraordinary. His smooth talking brought their head rushing with excitement. They met about a month ago, and it normally takes a few more weeks than that for [F/N] to truly fall in love with every aspect of their new darling, but they just couldn’t help it.
Heat pooled in their abdomen at the thought of him tied up with blood dripping down his face, body covered in cuts and bruises.
He calls their name again, dragging them out of their fantasy,
“Oh! Apologies, I was… lost in thought, late night, you know?”
That brought out more of his lovely chuckling, “About me?”
[F/N] squeaks, “Eh? I—” they fumble over their words, “No! I’ll have you know I just came home from a date,” they huff out, their face red.
“Did you now?”
They nodded their head with a hum, although he couldn’t see them, “Yup! He was really pretty too. Though we ended the night pretty early…” [F/N] trailed off with a pout.
“Really.” He said it in a way that sounded like he didn’t believe them.
[F/N] huffs, “Yes, really. Is it that hard to see me going on a date with someone pretty?”
Do you think I’m ugly? Was what [F/N] meant.
“Of course not, dear [F/N],” he paused with a slight ruffling in the background, “You’re handsome and/or beautiful; you could probably sweep anyone off their feet in a matter of moments,”
Their shoulders tense at his sweet words, “Well, aren’t you a flirt, Murdock,”
They cup their cheek with their hand.
“Anyway, let's not dwell on something that,” their heart skipped a beat at their darling's blood splattered on the plastic that covered the bed, giggling, “...Didn’t work out,”
“Didn’t work out?” He asked, curiosity dripping in his voice,
“He wasn’t a big fan of,” pursing their lips, [F/N] searches their mind for a lie, “Horror movies— I mean, can you believe it? Who doesn’t like a psychological horror movie? Or a jump-scare full of gory murder!”
“The horror,” he muses, “took him to the movies?”
[F/N] snorts, their hand dropping from their face, “Oh no, to dinner. We discussed our interests, and since I’m a romantic at heart, I, of course, brought up watching a movie afterward to keep the date going, and he refused to watch anything scary!” they raise their voice “‘Oh, I can’t handle such awful movies like Saw’ and blah, blah blah.” their voice deadpans at the end, “My partner has to love horror, otherwise it’s not meant to be.”
Sucking in a breath, [F/N] hoped their lie was believable. They silently apologize to the body under the water at the bay. He might have liked them, but it wasn’t something they discussed.
“Huh.”
They wince at his response,
“So you ended it just like that?”
[F/N] paused. Unable to think of what to say.
Slowly, they nod, “Well... I can’t—” they stuttering as they realize this could be used as an alibi if and when authorities question them, “We haven’t known each other for long, but, I mean, is it not obvious if someone doesn’t like my favorite things I can’t date them?”
That drew another laugh out of him,
“Not liking horror movies is a deal-breaker to you?”
“Yes.” [F/N] says with such seriousness they almost convince themself.
They love their partners regardless of what they liked. It wasn’t important when the blood and pleads were just so much more endearing than small talk.
It went quiet on the other line, [F/N] bit their lip after a few seconds. They pushed their hair behind their ear, fingers pressing against the bruise they got earlier.
As much as they rather not feel pain, [F/N] couldn’t deny just how pretty the bruises they got looked.
They glanced at the mirror, their heart leaping to their throat— purple and red on their cheek, reds littering their forearms. [F/N] was almost impressed. Their recent lover was strong, and they didn’t realize he put up that much of a fight.
Unfortunately, that meant they would have to wear makeup for the next few days, and undoubtedly, the police would be suspicious of them having injuries after going on a date with someone who disappeared.
He hummed, causing them to snap out of their thoughts,
“Sorry… I got distracted.” His voice hinted at something. “So that means you are free, no?”
[F/N] lips curled almost cruelly. Had they already hooked Murdock in?
“Yea, outside of work, of course,” they watch their face redden in the mirror reflection, planning what they could do to him.
“Say, would you like to accompany me to dinner on Friday?”