My Girlfriend Is A Serial Killer [G!P] [COMPLETED]

Becky's POV

Just another typical day. I'm walking through the crowd in the central mall, surrounded by thousands of people all going about their lives without a care in the world. But not me. I'm not here for myself, I'm here for someone else.

Yes, I'm following my next target. No, I never call them my victims. In fact, they're never victims at all. They deserve everything they get. Maybe "targets" is a better word. Yes, that's better. So who are they? How do I choose them?

It's simple, actually. There are plenty of bad people in this world. I mean, no one is inherently good, are they? I work for one of the top lawyers in the country, and it's not hard to find someone who gets away with it, someone who escapes justice. It's always the one who gets away. I choose them, I watch them, and then I execute the final act at just the right moment.

There he is, my next target. Happy and smiling, thinking he's gotten away with everything. He has no idea what's coming for him. I remember the family he tore apart, the devastation they felt because of him. He's a murderer. He killed innocent kids. Little boys. Now tell me, does he deserve to live? I know he'll do it again. I know exactly what he feels now. But kids? Never.

I wait for the perfect moment. Every action must be precise. Every calculation must be right. One slip-up, and everything falls apart. I can't afford mistakes. I have someone on the line now, someone I can't give up on.

Using a gun is sloppy. Too easy to trace. But they can be useful. Knives are better, cleaner—if done right, they leave no trace. But someone like him requires strength, fear. I know exactly what to do. I'm not going to give him an easy way out. He deserves pain. The same kind of pain he inflicted.

I wait. And wait. The final act is always the most thrilling.

As soon as he enters his car, I make my move. I strangle him from behind. Yes, that's right. A copper wire. Small, tight, unbreakable. It digs into his skin, imparting the very pain I want him to feel. The same pain those kids felt.

"Drive," I tell him.

He struggles at first, but I tighten the wire. One strong pull, and his windpipe would snap. It's over. He's clever, though. He realizes. Once he accepts that, he has no choice but to obey. That's the thing about fear and pain—they break you.

I can't do it here, not with so many people around. Too many eyes. I give him the directions, and once we reach the location I've chosen, I tell him to get out. This is where they get brave, where they try to fight back. I know how to handle that.

"Nice and easy. Don't do anything stupid," I warn, aiming the gun at him.

"Please let me go. Why are you doing this?" he pleads.

"You really don't know? Did those kids tell you to stop, and did you listen?"

"I'm sorry, ok? I couldn't stop myself. I had to."

"To kids?" I ask, my voice sharp, disbelief lacing my words.

"I'm sorry... I'm really sorry. You do this too, you can understand, right?" His eyes are pleading now.

"No, I don't. You killed innocent kids. I would never."

"Why?" he asks, incredulously.

Seriously? Did he really just ask me that?

"Because even I have standards," I reply, my eyes narrowing, watching his fear grow.

"You know what? You're going to wish you never got away from the law."

(A/N - Not going into further details, as it might be too disturbing. Let me know if you'd like me to, and I'll try.)

Another one added to the list. Another for the police to investigate, for the media to feast upon. Sometimes, I wonder if I'll ever stop. If they catch me, maybe it will all end. But then again, it would be Freen on the other side. Do I want that? Never.