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You once fell in love with someone who described himself as the devil. A figure of temptation and seduction. An existence known as evil to mankind – yet he calls himself that. You were content in your relationship with him; he was a tease, sure, but he knew how to not cross a line. He paid attention to your mood, your likes, dislikes — he paid attention to you.
You were with him for a year, you bore with his bullshit, his teasing, his rambles, his personality, all of him. You had accepted him for who he was as a person and he loved you for that. What you didn't know was that he was hiding a dark secret — but how can it be considered a secret if he’d been so open with it?
**
"What do you do outside of your normal routine and the mechanic stuff?" You had asked your boyfriend once while you were in his arms.
"Oh you know, torture people, sell some of what they own." He replied casually, a playful smirk planted on his lips.
"Are you serious? What are you, some kind of mass murderer of something?" You asked, laughing softly at his reply. He had always been a tease, you thought he was joking, teasing you to make you smile.
“No, but I am a serial killer.” He replied, a smug smirk planted on the corners of his lips.
“Oh please, what are you? The butcher?” You jokingly asked as you nudged his side a bit.
"Why? You don't believe me? That hurts my pride, sweetheart." He cooed, faking a hurt expression.
You roll your eyes at him. "You're so dramatic. Of course I don't believe you, why would you kill people without any reason?" You replied, a huff escaping your lips.
A hum could be heard from your boyfriend as if he were thinking of something. "Suit yourself." He replied, shrugging as he continued to hold you silently — Oh how much you regret not believing his words.
**
You'd been waiting for your boyfriend to get back from his 'late night walk', sitting on the couch anxiously. It had been three hours since he went out, and as the hands on the clock ticked to two in the morning, you grew worried at each second that passed by. You took a deep breath, finally deciding to go out to try and find him — which led you to a situation that's too much for you to bear and process.
"Ro…?" You called out, eyes wide as you stood a few steps away from your lover who was standing in front of a bloody body, crowbar in hand. Your eyes drifted from him to the corpse lying lifeless in front of him — head smashed flat upon recognition, bits of flesh clinging onto his crowbar, chest ripped open, aorta peeking out of its ribcage, faintly beating heart being held in his other hand, flesh and blood spattered on the walls and floor of the alley.
"Well, well, ain't this a sight?" He sneered, resting the end of his crowbar on his shoulder. His attention focused on you,frozen in place, both of your palms pressed over your nose and mouth as if it would stop you from vomiting at the grotesque sight. With your face pale and your body cold, you tried your best to snap back to reality.
“Ronin, what the fuck is wrong with you….?” You blurted, out absentmindedly staring at him with an obviously shocked expression. Your boyfriend started to make his way towards you, his clothes soaked with blood. With every step forward he made you match them with a step backwards, refusing to acknowledge the monstrous sight in front of you – until your back hit the cold, hard wall.
"Do you like the sight, baby?" He’d asked, stopping in front of you as he leaned his face close to yours, the same playful smirk planted on his lips.
"N-no…" You muttered, voice shaky from fear. Frightened of how close he is to you, scared that he might do the same twisted thing he did to the lifeless person; to you. You pushed him away with all your strength as you looked at him with a terrified expression.
"You're a monster." You spat out staring at him with a look of disbelief mixed with disappointment, hatred and fear – a look that you have not yet given him over the years you were together. You locked eyes with him for the last time, trying to see if the Ronin you knew was still inside the very man standing in front of you before you turned your back to him and ran away as fast as you could.
He held his hand out to try and reach out for you, to force you to accept him just like how you accepted his existence, just like how you didn’t turn your back away from his sinful self. He caught a glimpse of his blood soaked hand and clenched it, staring at your back which grew smaller and smaller from the distance between the two of you.
“It’s fine, I’ll make you accept me someday. My sweet, little bunny.” He muttered to himself, his eyes darkening as he looked at your figure like you were a creature that was marked by him – a quarry that he’d wait for until the time is right to strike. Like a lion waiting for its prey to mellow before chasing it and taking it down.
You packed your bags in a rush that very same night, erased every trace of your existence from that very house you spent your relationship with – the very same house that he still stays in up to this very moment.
**
"Y/n, darling, are you okay?" Your fiancee asks as they look at you with worry. You've been drinking with colleagues at a bar to celebrate the company's success.
"I'm alright…" You answered, sitting up straight only to feel the world spinning as you automatically lean on your fiancee for support.
"Seems like you drank way too much." They pointed out, a soft, gentle smile planted on their lips as they took you into their arms, easily lifting you off from the chair you sat on. You wrapped your arms around their neck, resting your head on their chest as a hum of satisfaction left your lips.
They carried you towards the car, gently putting you down on the passenger's seat and putting your seat belt on, their face close to yours. You pecked a kiss on their cheek, a playful giggle escaping your lips. Unbeknownst that a tall masked figure stood behind them, crowbar in hand, striking them with said weapon on the back of their head with full force, making them collapse on top of you, head bleeding from the hard impact. As for you, your eyes are heavy, struggling to keep them open along with a heavy head and spinning world.
"Here, why don't you sleep for now, sweetheart?" A voice all too familiar coos as he squeezes your face hard in between his palm, pulling out a small container of water from his pocket to make you forcefully drink it.
**
You wake up from your slumber, you don't remember what happened, you have a massive headache. You try to move your hand to massage the bridge of your nose but to no avail. You feel the stinging friction of the rope on your skin, you try but struggle to pull your wrist out from the restriction, which you fail to do so. A grumble escapes your lips as you realize that the room you're in is faintly lit with red light, your vision darkens, your breathing increases.
“Where am I…?” You ask yourself, looking around the room anxiously. Your memories of last night are blurry, you remember your fiancee picking you up and a stranger coming up behind them, hitting them with a crowbar. You pursed your lips, heart beating rapidly from anxiousness and worry.
You try to stand, but your feet are also tied tightly together, not giving you any room to escape. The attempt causes you to fall out from the chair and on to your side. You groaned in frustration, irritated by your helplessness to do anything but wiggle around like a worm.
The creak of the door can be heard echoing throughout the room you’re contained in, followed by heavy footsteps of someone.
“I see that you’re awake now, doll.” The voice sends chills down your spine, you feel all the color drain from your face as you feel nothing but dread all throughout your body. A very familiar voice which you knew very well who it belonged to.
“R-Ronin..” You stutter out, you feel a lump forming in your throat.
“It's impressive how you still recognize my voice even after all these years.” Ronin spat out, a laugh escaping his lips.
‘How could I forget your voice that has haunted me for the past 5 years since that happened?’ You thought, taking a deep and shaky breath.
“Please Ronin, it’s been Five years since that happened. I haven’t told a single soul –” You shout, getting cut off by him.
“Five years since I gave you a chance to escape too.” He mischievously whispers, crouching in front of your helpless figure that now lays on the cold hard floor. Grabbing your cheeks hard to make you look at him. You struggle to pull away from his grasp, closing your eyes, and pursing your lips.
“All five years to let you find your pretty little happiness, just for me to ruin it.” He added, grinning with malice while he looks down at your figure.
“Come to think of it, you already have a fiancee, right?” He points out, hitting his fist on his palm.
“Please don’t touch them.” You mutter, voice cracking as you look at him with despair filling your eyes – only to be greeted with your fiancee’s bloody face.
He stares at you, taking in the desperate expression you’re making. He feels his cheeks heating up.
“Oh, my darlin’ bunny…” He trails off, leaning his face close to yours, nose barely touching, you can feel his warm breath against your skin, you smell the strong scent of iron that makes you gag.
“Don’t you wanna look at the face you love so much?” He added. Your breath trembles, a choked sob escaping you as you try to get your face away from him.
“You’re sick…! Crazy! A maniac!.” You shout at him, tears flowing down your cheeks as you continue to pull your face away from his hold.
“Hey, isn’t that too cruel? Aren’t you happy to see the face of your beloved fiancee?” He asks, a menacingly satisfied smirk planted on his lips. Wearing the face of the person you promised yourself with – freshly peeled, glued on a mask, still bloody with bits of flesh hanging on the skin.
With him forcing you to look at such a gruesome sight, you finally pull your face away from his hold and finally throw up. Nauseous from the sight in front of you, sick of the man who seized you.
Staring at your figure, he lifts the mask off his face and throws it across the room. He grabs your tied up feet and pulls you towards him with ease, grabbing your chin harshly to force you to look up at him.
“You look so gorgeous when you’re broken like this.” He whispers, leaning his face closer to yours to pull you in a rough kiss. His eyes locked on yours, taking in every reaction you’re making – and you? You can’t do anything, he’s way too strong for you to go against. You shut your eyes close, beads of tears forming at the corner of your eyes, your restrained hands resting on his chest while you try to push him away. All the strength in your body drained by the kiss that the man initiated.
Pulling away from the kiss, his sharp, lovesick gaze stared at your glossy eyes. Admiring that certain look on your face, an expression that one makes when everything they’ve built for themselves shatters in just one moment.
“Do you like me now, darlin’?”
“Never.” you spat.
A deafening silence followed before a manic laugh escaped his mouth.
“Oh to speak the truth, anything but the truth, care to overindulge me tonight, darling?” He whispers in your ear, hands tightening around your tied wrist.
“Over my dead body, Ronin fucking Beaufort.” You whispered back as you struggled under him, kicking your binded feet as an attempt to break away from him.
“Such a shame.” He whispered once again before slowly digging his knife deep in your chest which made you freeze and stare at him in shock, all the strength you had disappeared as you coughed up blood.
“Over your dead body you say?” Ronin croons and buries the knife deeper in your chest as a chuckle escapes his lips.
“Consider it done, baby.”
**
The clacking of glass can be heard as Ronin puts down a jar on his bedside table, humming to himself as he stares at the jar containing your eyes.
“Now, you won’t have your eyes wandering around looking at anyone but me, right?”