That night, a storm truly broke. Thunder ripped through the sky as if trying to tear the city's suffocating atmosphere apart. I sat in my apartment, my heart pacing. Mike had dropped me at my door, promising to "grab some late-night snacks," and then vanished.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang frantically. I rushed to open it, but it wasn't Mike. It was an armed SWAT team.
"Hime, you're under arrest for suspected involvement in Simon's murder and theft of corporate secrets."
Before I could process it, the CEO stepped out from behind the team, with Yuchi by his side sporting a twisted smirk. The CEO looked at me with eyes full of lust and fury:
"So, you used that brat to eliminate my rivals? Too bad Yuchi found the evidence in your locker. Let's go. We have plenty to 'discuss' in my private interrogation room."
I was thrown into a car, handcuffed, and blindfolded. When the black cloth was removed, I found myself in a dark basement, reeking of mold. The CEO approached, lifting my chin: "Where's your little Mike now? Isn't he coming to save you? Or did he realize I set a trap and run away?"
Just as he was about to press a filthy kiss to my neck, a strange sound echoed. Not an explosion, not a scream, but the sound of metal screeching against the stone floor—steady and cold.
Screech... screech... screech...
From the darkness, a tall figure emerged. Mike stood there, not with a scalpel, but dragging a heavy iron chain—at the end of which was the severed head of the SWAT captain who had arrested me.
Mike wasn't smiling. His eyes weren't deep crimson anymore; they were a hollow, soulless white—his most terrifying state, when his madness surpassed all control.
"Hime..." Mike's voice was hoarse, devoid of any playfulness. "I told you not to let go of my hand. Why did you let this trash touch you?"
He stepped forward, ignoring the trembling guns of the bodyguards pointed at him. With every step, the floor seemed to crack. He glanced at the CEO, then at Yuchi, who was literally wetting herself in fear.
"Today... I won't be creating art. I'm going to... disassemble you all, piece by piece."
Gunshots roared through the dark basement, tearing through the tense air. Bullets whizzed towards Mike, but it was as if an invisible shield protected him. Mike didn't dodge, didn't move; he just stood there. The bullets embedded themselves in his skin like hitting solid rock, then clattered to the floor. Mike didn't even flinch.
His madness had transformed him into an invulnerable entity. His hollow, white eyes swept over each bodyguard, making them so terrified they dropped their weapons.
"Don't soil my floor."
Mike whispered, his voice low but filled with absolute command. He tossed the SWAT captain's head aside and then, empty-handed, charged into the bodyguards. He didn't use a knife; he used sheer, overwhelming strength. Each bodyguard was torn apart, their bones crushed as if they were rag dolls. Screams, bone-cracking sounds, and splattering flesh mingled into a horrific symphony.
I was chained to the chair, unable to do anything but watch the terrifying scene before me. Blood splattered onto my face, but I dared not close my eyes. Mike was too terrifying, too brutal, yet all of this was happening because of me.
After "cleaning up" the bodyguards, Mike turned to me. He walked over, completely ignoring the CEO cowering in a corner. With one hand, he easily snapped the handcuff that bound my wrist, then lifted me gently as if I weighed nothing at all.
"Hime... I'm taking you home."
Mike's voice was low, still hoarse with the remnants of his madness, but the hollow white in his eyes began to soften as he looked at me. He held me tightly, his body radiating heat like a furnace. Mike rested his chin on my hair, taking a deep breath, as if my scent was the only thing that could pull him back from the abyss.
He walked past Yuchi, who was huddled in the corner, and the CEO, who lay sprawled on the ground. Mike didn't even spare them a glance. To him, those two were now just corpses waiting to be "processed" in the most literal sense. The most important thing now was to get me home, back to his safe "kingdom."
My body went limp, my breath hitched, and I plummeted into darkness right in Mike's searing arms. The sheer horror had surpassed my limits, forcing my consciousness to shut down.
Feeling my weight collapse against him, Mike froze. His hollow white eyes constricted, the black pigment rushing back, but carrying a sense of absolute panic.
"Hime? Hime! Look at me!"
He roared, his voice cracking with terror. Mike dropped to his knees, one arm still shielding me like a priceless treasure while the other frantically stroked my pale face. The killing intent from moments ago vanished, replaced by a dark, abyssal despair. He pressed his forehead against mine, muttering like a madman:
"Don't leave me... I'm sorry, did I scare you? Don't die, Hime. I'll kill them all, I'll burn this place to the ground, just please wake up..."
Mike looked up at the CEO and Yuchi cowering in the shadows. His gaze wasn't about art or punishment anymore; it was pure, unadulterated hatred. Because of them, Hime had fainted. Because of them, she feared him.
He lifted me in a bridal carry and walked out of the basement without looking back. But before leaving, Mike snapped his fingers. A ghastly blue flame ignited out of nowhere, incinerating all evidence and beginning to lick at the feet of the survivors. Their desperate screams were left behind.
Back at the apartment, Mike laid me gently on the bed. He didn't wash up, despite being covered in the scent of blood and gunpowder. He stayed there, kneeling by the bedside, clutching my cold hand against his cheek, weeping silently.
"If you don't wake up, I'll turn this entire world into a graveyard to be buried with you, Hime..."
I woke up with a headache throbbing like a hammer against my skull. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast long shadows on the ceiling, and the metallic stench of blood had been replaced by the soothing scent of sandalwood in my familiar room. But what caught my attention most was the heavy warmth beside the bed.
I turned my head, and my heart tightened. Mike was kneeling on the floor, his head resting on the edge of the bed right next to my hand. His uniform was in tatters, stained with dark, dried blood and singed with soot. His usually arrogant "genius" face was smeared with grime, his eyes closed, yet tear tracks still lingered on his cheeks. He held my hand so tightly, as if loosening his grip for even a second would cause me to vanish into thin air.
"Mike..." I managed to croak out, my voice hoarse.
He bolted awake instantly. Those pitch-black eyes widened, filled with panic and dread. When he saw I was awake, he didn't pounce like usual. Instead, he recoiled, retreating a few steps as he looked at me with fear—the fear of being rejected.
"Hime... you're awake?" his voice trembled. "I'm sorry. I made your bed dirty. I'll leave right now... if you're afraid of me."
He started to stand, his towering frame now looking lonely and broken. Seeing the hands that had torn through an entire SWAT team now shaking because he feared my hatred, a strange, overwhelming pity washed over me. I knew he was a demon, I knew he was mad, but all that madness revolved entirely around protecting me.
I reached out, grabbing the hem of his dirty shirt and giving it a gentle tug.
"Don't go. Stay here with me... Mike."
Mike froze, his shoulders shaking violently. He turned back to me, unable to believe his ears. Then, like a lost child finding his mother, he collapsed at my side, wrapping his arms around my waist and burying his face in my lap, sobbing uncontrollably.
"I thought you'd kick me out... I thought you'd fear me like everyone else... Don't leave me, Hime, I have no one but you..."
I gently stroked his disheveled hair, feeling his hot breath and this extreme dependency. I knew I was playing with fire, but looking at Mike like this, how could I ever bear to leave?