Prologue

Another day, another person dead

 My eyes were heavy, from those steps I made towards this whole luxurious mansion. It was big and just enormous for my eyes to skim through every door it had. Oh, how lucky would it be to live the high life in pure luxury? With gleaming parquet floors, and a high ceiling containing a big shiny window towards the moon. The soft steps moved forward, slowly.

 One by one my eyes trailed off in fantasies. The dark aura that filled the modern interior of this house led to more mystery in my perception. Though it was just normal to invade rich people's houses, ending their lives before they could say a word, this felt like misery. My brain couldn't process well, but all the interiors and kinds of pieces this house gave me were familiar. Unfamiliar but familiar; I have never been in this house before though. 

 Swinging my knife around my hand, I let out a small whistle, on my way to find the client. It felt exciting; usually, as well I would have gotten this feeling but this time was quite different. The sound of the knife squealing over the walls that it touched, was pure fun to my thoughts. Who was the prey this time? Who was lucky enough to meet me? 

 "Standby, the client is dangerous" A message hits.

 I laughed mockingly at the text. Getting the sarcasm out of my head I didn't bother if he was dangerous. Dangerous? Funny. Mockingly funny. Who was the client even? Who was the dangerous client? If he were a menacing idiot, it would be such a great hunt.

 Checking in the kitchen, extra room, bathroom, all done. The only room left was the bedroom. I felt like an idiot afterward, thinking why I didn't check the bedroom even after a few minutes of wondering about his house. It's quite mentally appealing because the house was so neat, but quite a waste of seconds. The door swung open, however, the figure that I was searching for didn't appear in front of my sight. How is this possible? Instead, pieces of photographs were scattered all around the room. Worse, they were pictures of me.

 "What the fucking heck?" I mumbled as I established my way towards a whiteboard. A whiteboard filled with my own fucking face. Thousands of pictures stuck through it with red thread that linked them.

 "A stalker? How did he-" A poppy caught my eye. Before I could even pilot my way to spot more things that were stuck on the board, a gun pressed on the back of my head. 

 "Poppy" the voice mouthed.

Ryan

 Aurora, the way her mahogany black hair falls perfectly on her back. Not short but not too long, it fits her so perfectly. 22 was her age that was the best to live at, especially the one that was best for me to make her mine. Shining ocean-blue eyes sparked as she turned around. Oh her eyes, how they were so admirable that I wanted to swim in, like all those days I spent diving in the deep ocean. But her eyes were the ones that I could watch for hours. Nothing could perhaps fit into 1 tenth of her beauty, and I meant it as nothing. As she turned around, all I desired was to pull in to kiss her. A night would be perfect just staring at the stars, well, staring at her. Stalking for days that I even forgot the daily life that I'd spent working, and drinking coffee. Maybe it was the best life I, myself desired, but this was just divergent. I didn't like her, nor did I love her. Figuring out that she was somehow after me, because of that one fucking video I took from my department, is such thrilling. It wasn't the best way to meet a person though.

 "Who are you?" She asked, her words barely even making sense.

 I dropped the gun on her head, knowing she wouldn't just stab me in the heart after I let go of her. It would be merciless, I know she wouldn't. After all the stalking, I have come to realize the fact that she unravels her interests deeply. I may have put enough effort into getting her interest.

 "A novelist is what you say?"

 her job was quite cocky and everything. I didn't know how I felt about that, but it sure was some kind of torture to her beauty.

 "Sure, novelists don't sound too bad. Now that you must have suspected why I'm here, why haven't you taken my life already?"

 The question changed the mood and tension between us. Though I thought she was quite innocent, well, she isn't to insist right now. 

 "My residence isn't made for spills of blood, of pathetic humans." 

 The cold demeanor never swifts away though. Though I had an interest in her as much as I hated her for preparing to kill me, I didn't know what to do practically. 

 "Right, Aurora." She introduces me.

 "Did you not realize the pictures of yours stuck in this room? That you thought I might not have known your name?" I laughed. 

 The cute blush on her face (Might have been a desire to kill me but) when she looked around the board. She wasn't wrong, it was how you start a normal conversation. Was it cliche? Yes. But was it what needed to be said in this kind of situation? No. Did I love this situation? Perhaps so.

 "Right, what did you even do to get your name on the billing boards?" By billing boards, she meant the person who is wanted dead.

 "Well, I took a video of a high-class dude, killing about 20 people. Stray people to be exact. I didn't want to cause problems on just deaths of the poor."

 I cut myself off before I could drag another huge conversation on how I was just lonely as fuck. That was exactly why I had to find things to cure my boredom. I didn't dare to open my mouth afterward. Didn't want the first impressions of hers to be a psychopath.

 "Interesting," She smiled.

 The smile she gave, made me lose a few heartbeats. But interesting? Oh, she sure is a catchy person to find me interesting at most. More than what I know from an extravagant person, who has the urge to spend all her money on the clients she'd killed.

 "Interesting? Really little fox?" I gave a delighted light smile in return. 

 Her fragrance spreads around the room like rosemaries. Though she kept her calm, the stooped shoulders, and the nervous fidgeting on her knife she had, filled every molecule of air with tension. 

 "Yes, interesting. Now, are you going to protest, or would you be lovingly killed by me?" The words slipped out hot and attractive.

 The aura of hers filled with how she would kill me, lovingly. Her eyes kept me glaring at them. They were mouth-watering. Not only them, but her whole entire presence is. She stood, stock still, releasing the grip on her knife. 

 "Oh, I preferred none. But you're quite keen on this situation, aren't you?""Perhaps so" She replied

 The night air swifts again, as she drops her knife on the ground.

 "I'll let you go, mister. You seemed to be more than just a meager person. Am I wrong?"

 Am I wrong? What did she mean by that? Was she fighting her urge back to me so that the roof above our head wouldn't be the same? But now that I think about it, what if she desired to revel in this situation? In something more pleasurable. In something more of fantasies. The gaze met back.

"You're not. Ryan, I'm Ryan" I finally introduced my name. "R-ry- what?" As she said, we both could hear a large gunshot hit through our eardrums.