The Serial Killer’s Girlfriend

I, a comatose woman, am the girlfriend of a serial killer.

My boyfriend, Ismael, adores me. Because I'm always asleep, Im not like the ninety-nine other playthings who tried to pry into his secrets.

The last poor soul who ventured into the basement looking for clues ended up, that very night, a slurry of bone and flesh, flushed down the sewer with caustic acid.

Every night, Ismael would pant as he pressed down on me, whispering, I miss you so much, darling. Please, wake up soon, wont you?

I was terrified, nearly clenching every muscle in my body.

I had to be the perfect, unwavering vegetative state.

His methods of dismemberment were horrifying enough; applied to me, it would be far worse.

Ive been trapped in this nightmare game for two years now.

Playing dead is my only way to survive.

Until one day, a new caretaker arrived.

When no one was around, she leaned in and whispered:

Stop pretending. I know youve been awake this whole time.

Jessica, the new caretaker, clamped her fingers like an iron vise onto my inner thigh.

Talk!

I didnt react, the heart monitors steady "beep-beep" the only sound.

The system panel shows your brainwave activity is as high as 180. Youre not a vegetable at all.

Jessica tightened her grip, her nails practically digging into my flesh.

Dont think you can fool the system! The previous ninety-nine players died. Do you really think you can survive until the end?

Im a player too.

I have a mission.

If I expose you, I get ten thousand points.

Then I can trade for a ticket out of this horror game!

She leaned closer to my ear, her voice laced with suppressed madness.

I kept my eyes shut, my breathing rate unchanged.

Jessica recoiled half a step, releasing her hand with a disgusted look.

What an actress.

You coward, what kind of woman survives by playing dead?!

She pulled a silver needle from her white coat pocket.

System item.

Ten times the pain, no marks left behind.

She raised the needle, aiming to stab my fingertip.

Brothers home!

The heavy security door was suddenly flung open.

Jessicas hand twitched violently, the silver needle missing its mark, embedding itself in the bedsheet.

She quickly retrieved the needle, her face transforming into a mask of subservience, and retreated to the side of the bed.

A strong metallic scent of blood permeated the room first.

Ismael stepped over the threshold.

He wore a pristine white shirt, its hem stained dark brown with dried blood.

He held a pink birthday cake box in his hand, still dripping crimson.

Ismael walked to my bedside, tossing the cake box onto the nightstand.

The box fell open, and a human head rolled out.

Its dull, grey eyes stared wide, red veins and bits of flesh still attached to the neck.

Look, darling.

Ismael sat down, reaching out to caress my bloodless cheek.

His fingertips were rough, calloused from years of gripping a knife.

This is the head of that nosy neighbor who wanted to call the authorities.

He said hed report my basement secrets to the Security Bureau.

And bring people to shut down my home.

Ismael let out a laugh, his voice a charming magnet, yet utterly chilling.

I made him watch his own body get ground into mince in the meat grinder.

I kept my eyes closed, showing no reaction to the head so close to me.

Jessica, in the corner, clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling a dry heave.

Ugh!

Ismaels hand, stroking my cheek, stilled.

He slowly turned his head to look at Jessica.

New here?

Jessicas face was ashen, her legs trembling, and she dropped to her knees with a thud.

J-Ismael Mr. Ismael

No manners.

Ismael raised his hand.

A silver gleam flashed from his sleeve.

A sharp surgical knife pierced Jessicas left shoulder.

The sheer force sent her flying backward, pinning her firmly against the white wall.

A scream tore through the rooms dead silence.

Ismael didnt even glance at her, turning his attention back to me.

With his blood-stained hand, he picked up his phone and opened a video.

He held the screen close to my face.

The video featured the screeching sound of a chainsaw cutting through bone, accompanied by a mans desperate screams.

Listen to that sound, darling. Isnt it beautiful?

Do you know? That neighbor was still begging for mercy before he died.

He said he had a wife and children.

But what does that have to do with me?

My world is only you.

Anyone who tries to disturb us, they have to die.

I lay still, my eyeballs motionless beneath my eyelids.

Jessica couldnt pull out the knife, blood staining half the wall red.

System! Why cant you just confirm the mission success! I clearly know shes faking it!

She frantically called out to the system in her mind.

I couldnt see the system panel, but I could imagine her despair.

Ismael put away his phone, wiping the blood from his hand on my hospital gown.

Pretty, isnt it?

I was as quiet as a corpse.

Ismaels lips curved into a smile, his eyes glazed with obsession.

Such a good girl.

Youll never betray me, will you?

He stood up, walked to Jessica, and yanked out the surgical knife.

Blood spurted out.

Jessica collapsed to the floor, clutching her wound, her eyes filled with terror and resentment.

Ismael patted the bloodied blade against Jessicas face.

Dont think I dont know the tricks of you so-called players.

Trying to find clues from me?

You dont even qualify to be made into a specimen.

I dont care who put you here as a caretaker.

If you dont take care of her properly, next time this knife will be in your brain.

Jessica spent three days recovering from her wound.

During those three days, she didn't dare lay a hand on me again.

She merely sat on the chair beside my bed, muttering nervously under her breath.

Points repurchase items

She was exchanging things.

I lay quietly, my breathing maintaining a constant twelve breaths per minute.

Ismael was not home.

A series of murders had recently gripped the city, and the Security Bureau was cracking down hard, leaving him with many "loose ends" to tie up.

Jessica stood up.

In her hand was a syringe filled with a pink liquid.

Truth serum mixed with a waking agent.

She walked to my bedside, looking down at me.

This is top-tier stuff I got for five hundred points.

Inject this, and even a dead person could sit up and recite pi.

She expelled the air from the syringe, and a pungent chemical smell wafted out.

Go on, inject it. Once you do, youll be free.

She roughly yanked my arm, plunging the needle firmly into my vein.

The cold liquid pushed into my bloodstream.

Jessica released my arm and stepped back two paces, a fanatical smile spreading across her face.

She pulled out a miniature camera and aimed it at my face.

Tell me! Are you faking it?

What is your true identity?!

The liquid flowed through my bloodstream, burning like fire.

Nerve endings began to twitch wildly, muscles involuntarily spasming.

A powerful urge to confess everything surged through my brain.

Jessica brought the camera closer to my mouth.

Speak! Say it to the camera!

My Adam's apple bobbed once.

Ugh!

I abruptly turned my head, a mouthful of bile and stomach acid spewing out, landing squarely on her designer sneakers.

Jessica froze.

Impossible! How could a system-issued medicine fail?

Speak! Who are you?!

She grew frantic, reaching out to grab my shoulders and shaking me hard.

I unconsciously opened my mouth.

Bleargh!

More vomit gushed out, splashing over half her pants.

Jessica shrieked, jumping back.

Damn it! My limited edition sneakers!

She lifted her foot, ready to kick my stomach with full force.

Stop.

A chilling, icy voice came from the bedroom doorway.

Ismael stood there, a blood-dripping fire axe in his hand.

He looked at the vomit on the floor, then at the mess on Jessicas shoes.

His brows were furrowed tightly.

What is this?

He pointed the axe at the foul-smelling puddle.

Jessica froze, quickly retracting her foot and hiding the camera behind her back.

J-Ismael Mr. Ismael, this is I was feeding the patient nutrient liquid.

Nutrient liquid?

Ismael walked closer, his leather shoes making suffocating tapping sounds on the floor.

Why does it smell like an emetic to me?

He came to my bedside and reached out to touch my forehead.

No fever.

Darling threw up?

I remained with my eyes tightly shut, a smear of grime on my lips, completely unresponsive.

Ismael turned his head, staring intently at Jessicas shoe.

A glint on Jessicas shoe surfacethe camera lens wasn't hidden well, it was exposed.

Whats that?

Jessicas face instantly went pale, cold sweat soaking her back.

Th-this this is

Ismael swung the axe, splitting Jessicas shoelace and the camera clean through.

Parts and fragmented bone flew everywhere.

Ah!

Jessica clutched her bleeding foot, rolling wildly on the floor.

I hate these sneaky things the most.

Ismael dropped the axe to the floor with a dull thud.

Drag her out. Chop off this hand.

Since she dared to point such a thing at her, this hand is useless anyway.

The basement door opened, and Jessica was dragged away by Ismaels several vicious dogs.

Her screams turned into desperate whimpers, finally cut off by the heavy, soundproof door.

Ismael filled a basin with warm water and fetched a clean towel.

His movements were exquisitely gentle as he carefully wiped the grime from my lips.

Darling, dont eat anything others give you from now on.

Its dirty.

Jessica didn't die.

She spent three thousand points to acquire "Limb Regeneration Liquid."

The next day, she reappeared in the living room, her hands perfectly intact.

Her face, however, was paler, and her gaze upon me was like that of someone looking at a corpse destined for dissection.

Ismael didnt show much surprise.

In this horror game world, where strange things were commonplace, limb regeneration was just another "player privilege."

As long as that privilege didn't threaten him, he would tolerate it.

He even seemed to find it an amusing circus act.

Your medicine, though, its better than any hospitals specialty drug.

Ismael sat on the sofa, twirling a delicate surgical knife in his hand.

Jessica knelt on the floor, trembling all over.

I I have an ancestral secret recipe.

If its a secret recipe, then hand it over.

Ismael said casually, the knife tip scratching a shrill white mark on the glass coffee table.

Jessica gritted her teeth, a hint of ruthlessness flashing in her eyes.

This medicine requires a human heart as an activator.

And it absolutely must be the brain of someone in a deep sleep!

She suddenly looked up, her finger pointing directly at me, lying on the sickbed.

Mr. Ismael, she never wakes up; shes the perfect activator!

Just take her brain, and I can brew an omniscient, omnipotent elixir for you!

She dropped the pretense, going straight for my life.

Omniscient and omnipotent.

This was the ultimate pursuit of all the major bosses in horror games.

Ismaels hand stilled.

The knife tip embedded itself in a crack in the coffee table.

He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over my lifeless face.

I lay quietly, the heart monitors waveform as steady as stagnant water.

Omniscient and omnipotent?

Ismael pulled out the surgical knife, blowing away tiny fragments from its edge.

I just want her to stay with me forever. What do I need omniscience and omnipotence for?

Knowing too many secrets, watching this world rot, thats a kind of torment too.

He stood up and walked to my bedside.

Jessica, still unwilling to give up, shouted loudly.

Mr. Ismael! This comatose patient is just a waste of expensive medical resources! Why not

Silence.

Ismael cut her off.

He stretched out his hands and brutally choked my neck.

His grip was immense, instantly cutting off my breath.

Oxygen was forcibly deprived, and my lungs began to protest instinctively.

But I still maintained the perfect role of a comatose patient.

No struggle, no frown, not even a tremor of my eyelids.

The heart monitor began to emit a piercing alarm.

The waveform on the screen became extremely erratic.

Ismael stared intently at my face, watching my complexion change from pale to crimson, then to a terrifying purplish-blue.

One minute.

Two minutes.

Just a second before I was about to completely suffocate and go into shock, Ismael released his grip.

Fresh air rushed back into my lungs, but I still didn't gasp for breath, relying only on the ventilator's assistance to slowly recover.

Ismael was utterly satisfied with this reaction.

She is my girlfriend, my exclusive possession.

Whether or not to kill her depends on my mood.

He turned around, looking down at Jessica.

You want to kill her?

Jessicas body trembled violently, and she lowered her head, not daring to speak.

Plenty of people want to kill her.

Ismael smiled, but there was no warmth in his eyes.

Last month, that guy who called himself a high-level player also wanted to kill her, saying she was an obstacle to clearing the game.

Later, that player was skinned alive by me and made into a living room rug.

Ismael walked to Jessica, patting her cheek with the rust-stained back of the knife.

Want to try?

Jessicas system panel flashed wildly.

She slumped to the floor, drenched in cold sweat.

I I wouldnt dare.

Ismael snorted coldly, retracting the surgical knife.

Theres a gathering at the Red Moon Club tonight. Bosses from all major districts will be there.

Clean her up.

Put her in that black evening gown.

After all, itll be her last public appearance.

The last sentence was spoken softly.

But I heard it clearly.

Ismael was going to kill me?

Jessica heard it too.

The fear in her eyes instantly vanished, replaced by fervent greed.

She scrambled up, walked to my bed, and yanked off the blanket.

Her nails dug into my flesh again, feigning to adjust my clothes.

This time, she lowered her voice and laughed.

Did you hear that, you useless thing?

Tonight is your death knell.

Your brain, its mine for the taking.