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@goreboy: sure Baby catch me if you can
It was messages like these that made his blood boil the most. The catty nicknames and taunts that really show Ronin’s true depravity. He was a murderer . A sick fuck who did little outside of tormenting the good of the modern world. And despite that being his livelihood, when met with threats of capture, he couldn’t care less!
@K9: I will. Just you wait.
He typed it out, feeling his fingers jaggedly tremble, trying to hold themselves back from a lengthy diatribe that he’d surely get mocked for. He was used to the teasing. After 2 years it’s hard not to be, but right now he really needn’t get more flustered.
He didn’t wait for a response, flicking back over to another tab on his desktop; The Butcher’s police reports spread out on scanned documents, each fitted with the scrawling hand of the men in blue. He had been going through each of the reports, noting each death's location on a map he kept up in another window, now pin-pricked red with small dots that coagulated like a sea of blood; Ronin’s massacre.
He was desperate for another lead, something to dig him out of the hole he found himself in, seeing neither the path forward nor backward, stuck simply in place to wallow in the details… “The devil is in the details.” Ronin had often said over call in his whiny, pitchy tone. Yet, these were the moments Valentin hated him the least. After all, the voice sought to humanise him, even if it was grating on the ears.
Never once had he seen him though. Yet he was aware everyone else had. He had heard many a time about Ronin’s deplorable fashion sense from the likes of both Angel and Misaki, and was well aware of Luca and Felicie’s apprehension of his appearance. Under other circumstances, he’d feel offended that Ronin would have obstructed him from such a view, yet it made perfect sense given their intentions with one another… Valentin had neglected to show his own face as well, so perhaps it was only fair.
Yet he wondered, what could someone like The Butcher even look like? At first, before he’d even joined the server, he’d imagined him much like how he imagines Vince; Tall and gruff, with wide shoulders and thin eyes that pierce harshly into one's chest, reading the sins of their hearts and beating out their last breath with intimidation. Yet, once he got to interact with Ronin, that idealisation was swiftly discarded.
Now, well- he's not sure how he imagines him. He evidently has an affinity for grunge-like aesthetics, and according to Luca sports some especially “unflattering jeans” (though Luca’s taste is not to be trusted), yet his relationship with Angel would suggest he is reasonably attractive… Unless Angel was desperate, which wouldn’t be completely surprising. He exuded enough confidence to suggest that he was, though, which really got V’s mind racing…
If he could just get a glimpse of his killer, that’d make his hunt so much simpler! Yes. That was it.
He flicked back over to his chat with Ronin, the petulant nickname “baby” flashing in the gaudish pink of the chat client, grinding his gears and making him flush. It was stupid, he really shouldn’t get flustered by things like this, from people like this .
He scoffed, sighing to himself as he read over Ronin’s messages. If only these were different circumstances.
@goreboy: Eh. thats what you always say
@goreboy: And where has that gotten you?
@goreboy: 2 years in the biz and you still havent found me
He clenched one hand into a fist, clicking off the terminal with the other to get back to his sleuthing. Ronin was always such an asshole. He made him crazy! Made his heart race and his skin flush. Made him scroll through reams of documents detailing down to the finest points all the horrific acts he had committed. If it weren’t for the screen in between them, well, Valentin was certain that he’d know Ronin better than anyone!
The annoying flicker of the chat terminal’s notifications sounded. Once, then twice, then once more- V sighed, rubbing a tired hand upon his temple. It was really too late to be dealing with him, but justice never sleeps, so neither does he.
@goreboy: you just gonna ignore me are ya?
@goreboy: nah. you’re probably busy “hunting me down” arent ya?
@goreboy: Understandin my serial killer psyche and what not
@goreboy: so Fuckin Obsessed with me
@goreboy: you almost make me blush
He couldn’t stifle his audible groan. Ronin was being needier than usual.
@K9: Go seek your attention somewhere else. You have an entire server of pricks to bother.
@goreboy: eh. theyre not as fun to play with as you
He had to cover his eyes at that. Whether it be to shield him from such a snide remark, or to hide the heat that sizzled quietly under his skin, he wasn’t sure. This feeling, it had to be irritation- hatred. Sizzling, bubbling, hot. That’s how you’d describe it, no?
Ronin wasn’t being unjust, though. At least, not right now, so why was he making him feel this way? And why, pray tell, were the corners of his mouth fighting against his better judgement, upturning awkwardly into what some may call a smile. A smirk? A simulacra of emotion.
Perhaps it was because this implied a sense of favouritism. Yes, it was definitely that. To be sought after like how he pursued Ronin; with a fervent hunger that had yet to be quenched. It was flattering , sure, but nothing more!
@K9: I’m glad you find such pleasure in tormenting me.
@goreboy: aw is that so?
@K9: No.
He didn’t treat this like a game one would “play.” So of course it didn’t make him fucking glad. How stupid could Ronin be?
He squashed that thought pretty quickly, though, as evidently he was smart enough to outsmart him time and time again.
@goreboy: you wound me. are you Really sure youre not a serial killer?
He had to chuckle a little at that. Clever word play from his clever killer. He typed with a newfound ease;
@K9: With the amount of times you impose that disreputable moniker upon me, one might assume you’re simply asking for my attention. You’re well aware of the reaction it provokes from me…
@K9: You aren’t getting desperate, are you @goreboy?
A little part of him pleaded for it to be true, so that he wouldn’t be alone in this little pit of his. If the desperation went both ways, well then he could at least meet his killer in the middle of it all. Any lead. Any semblance of a lead that could direct him to a sense of understanding. Why did Ronin act like this? Why was he so cruel yet addictive? Why could he uproot his life and lead him down a path of ridiculous mystery and chaos to this very moment of time, calculated to immense precision? A mind much like his own in divisiveness yet so different in morality. Yin and Yang.
@goreboy: yk you dont have To @ me in dms right?
@K9: Dodging the question. That is so like you.
@goreboy: like you’d know
@K9: I would.
@goreboy: fucking bet
He had little time to ruminate upon Ronin’s remarks before a bright flashing window popped up, arrogantly beckoning for his attention. He squinted his tired eyes, reading the pink text with a groan.
[goreboy would like to voice call you.]
Alright. Groan retracted. His interest is piqued, and his anticipation is giddy. He eagerly clicks accept.
“For a moment I thought you wouldn’t pick up. But then I remembered you’re obsessed with me.” His snide tone filtered through the earbuds he had scrambled to get ahold of when the notification popped up. He had heard it a million times before yet it still made his skin prickle. With disgust , of course.
“Ugh, obsessed with putting your heinous deeds to rest. Nothing more.” He sighed out, though he didn’t feel the usual pang of immense disgust that came with reprimanding the younger man.
“Sure. You wanna tell me how that’s goin’?” He could hear the smugness dripping in his slick tone. Valentin squinted, as if the gesture might allow him to peek through the bright pixels of his screen, and out into the room of the man on the other line, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.
“It’s going swimmingly. You really should start running if you know what’s good for you.”
“Ah, but you know I don’t. Don’t you? Since you know me so well. ” He mocks with a thin laugh; one that’s long and drawn out. Very characteristic of him.
“I know more than you think.”
“Oh yeah? What’s my full legal name then? Address? Place of work? C’mon you must know that !” It’s as if every question beckons forth a brewing intensity within him, threatening to tip over the precipice of his being and really spill what he’s thinking. What he wants to know. Ah, but he relents, pushes it down where it can ruminate safely in his gut to be dealt with later.
“I know your name is Ronin, and up until recently, you maintained a steady residence in the town of Angelwood. I know you’re currently employed as a mechanic, you have a former relationship with the model and influencer Maria De La Rosa-”
V can almost hear him stiffen at that. It was info he had not yet shared with him. The thought of him, just beyond that screen, possibly caught off guard, left his face running hot and his face contorting into glee. He loved this-
“As of now, I do not have a full name, as there was no one by your name living in the town of Angelwood. So it seems you are either going by a false name, or have changed it.”
“I’ll be your saint for once and clear that up for you. I changed it.” Ronin added quite quickly, his tone short and stern. It was a new sound for him.
“Care to clear up the rest of it? Since you’ve decided to be so forthcoming, you might as well just tell me your full name and address right now.”
He could hear himself, his voice bouncing off the screen in front of him, echoing back his teasing tone that so obviously dripped with some macabre sense of satisfaction. He was playing the game now- for the game was fun. Especially when you had some semblance of a high ground.
“You wish! If I forked over everything that easily, what would be the fun in it?”
“Killing you, perhaps?” He felt himself smirk as Ronin laughed.
“So the vigilante with the moral high ground gets off on killing me? Doesn’t sound very saint-like.”
“Of course you wouldn’t see it as such- Just this once I afford myself a pleasurable kill and of course you ridicule me. Don’t you understand that the pleasure is justice? ”
“Yeah pleasure me with your justice yadda yadda- at least take me out to dinner before you start talkin’ dirty, V.”
Oh he just wants to recede into his own skin and die. But in a good way? This doesn’t feel bad. No, it feels awful, yet exhilarating. It’s humiliating, yet exciting. It’s both terror and ecstasy, really, bickering with him.
…
“Shit.”
“What was that?”
He didn’t mean to say it out loud, but the realisation was so profound that it simply bore a vocal understanding of it.
Did he like this?
Did he like- Ronin?
“Nothing. I’m tired of your poor attempts to tease me is all.”
This was really bad. In love with a serial killer? The very serial killer he’d spent the better portion of 2 years hunting down? Yeah, that serial killer, his very own Butcher now skewering his heart with a knife so sharp he could barely feel it. It almost felt merciful if not for the blood it drew.
“You’re real feisty tonight! What’s got you so worked up, hm?” And he was none the wiser too! Well, maybe not. Ronin was so far up his own ass that he’d probably assumed that most of the people in the server had some underlying, undying affection for him.
It was not undying- but it was shaping up to be affection. Affection for Ronin- from V. It sounded as ridiculous as it was.
“You know exactly what has got me riled up.” He responded, trying his best to keep his tone flat and angered. “We seem to always be playing this game, back and forth, I don’t understand how you don’t tire of it.”
“I could say the same for you.” The smirk in his tone was evident. “As I said, you’re obsessed with me!”
“Then that would imply that you, too, are obsessed with me.” He quickly objected, though the idea felt hollow on his lips, slipping on its fickle feet.
“Sure, I won’t deny it.”
What.
See, that was what kept him going all these years. The surprise. Every time he figured he was bored of him, only slogging on with this case for the sake of justice, the man would just pop out and surprise him like this!
He couldn’t possibly reciprocate these feelings- No, he’s just using clever wording to mess with his head.
“You mean to say you’re obsessed with me?” His voice treaded carefully, a little tense towards his response.
“Fucking enamoured even. You’re my little enigma.” His tone didn’t exactly make it sound like a compliment, yet it felt like one, sending his heart fluttering with a disgusting shimmer that made him internally slap himself for ever thinking of Ronin in such a way. Even if that way was, well, reciprocated.
“Enigma? That’s ironic coming from you.”
“Sure, but at least I can admit it. You’re a mystery to me, and so is your backwards logic. It’s clear you don’t have me figured out but- well I can’t say I’ve fared much better!”
This affords Ronin a precious laugh, for V rarely laughs for anyone but his own company. It’s unbecoming of a vigilante, of course, yet here Ronin has him unravelling.
“Despite this, I am certain you have more information on me than most who have attempted to track me down.”
“Aw, look at you complimenting me.”
“Comment rescinded.” He interjects as Ronin laughs breathily. V really wishes he could see him. See how he wore that expression. Would it knock any sense of affection out of him? Or would it make it even worse?
“Aw, don't be like that. You’re cute when you play nice.” He heightens his pitch in mockery, causing Valentin to groan, leaning back in his chair and letting his body, weighed down by the constant bombardment of warring emotions, sink into the cushioning.
“Shut up.”
“You love me.”
“Sure, if it makes you feel any better.” He sighs, feeling himself come down from the high of the conversation slowly, as if drifting amongst a steadying current, like a feather floating in the air.
“The feeling’s mutual.” He says with a laugh that’s so drawn out, almost like a cackle, that it makes it exceedingly hard to tell whether he means it or not. Either way, it still leaves Valentin’s heart palpitating, his hands clenching in on themselves to steady the rocking boat that is his emotions. “And one more thing before I go.”
“Oh, what is it now?” He huffed out in faux annoyance, putting on an extra sense of irritation to mask the part of him that childishly squealed at the prospect of being loved back.
“You want my full name?”
“More than anything.” Once he had that, it narrowed his broad horizon of people down to hopefully the bare minimum, affording him the capability to truly put a stop to this guy. That is, if he really still wanted to do that-
“The devil is in the details!”
And then the mother fucker hangs up.
And V is left to sit, ruminating with both rage and affection over the man he has dedicated so much of his time to. Was he really in love? This had to be love. For he knew nothing else but justice. And the justice of hunting Ronin down would surely be the sweetest. Surely deserving of the title of “Love”.
The stark screen of the chat window stared back at him, and it’s only when he reread the messages that, like a flickering lightbulb suddenly returning to its full shine, he understood what Ronin meant.
With butterflies in his stomach, he pulled up a search client: RONIN BEAUFORT.
He hit enter with a smile, ready to meet his killer.