The Grim Lover

"I'm Wirun, Dr Won's lawyer. I request permission to attend the questioning," said the eldest brother, who was acting as Dr Won's lawyer.

 

I informed the receptionist that I needed to give my statement. The officer nodded without asking many questions. I assumed my older brother had already contacted them in advance, as is typical of professionals who are familiar with these procedures. "And I would also like to request permission for a relative of the doctor to be present. The doctor is in a rather vulnerable mental state and doesn't feel safe without someone close to him."

 

The officer in the outer office paused for a moment, as if considering something, before excusing himself and disappearing into the interrogation room. I assume he was going to ask someone for permission.

 

It's the higher-ranking officers who are at it. I glanced at Fourteen, who was standing beside me, with a worried expression. What if they didn't allow Fourteen to go in? Even having my older brother there wouldn't reassure me. In this situation, all I needed was Fourteen.

 

In less than a minute, the same officer opened the door and came back out. "Only one family member is allowed, and we request their cooperation in remaining seated and not disrupting the interrogation."

 

"Yes, thank you very much," the eldest brother replied, bowing slightly. I sighed in relief and bowed in thanks as well. Fourteen was standing tall and oblivious to everything.

 

After the agreement was finalised and acknowledged, the officer at the front desk opened the door for us to enter the interrogation room, a small room with only one large table and three chairs on one side. On the other side, one chair was occupied by the investigating officer, and another chair at the corner of the table was occupied by another police officer, who sat there with a meek expression. It was obvious he was just a low-ranking officer.

 

"Please," the investigator stood up and gestured for the three of us to sit in the chairs opposite him. My older brother sat in the chair furthest inside, and I sat in the seats in the middle and closest to the door, which belonged to Fourteen. The atmosphere quieted down to an unsettling level once everyone was seated, but I felt strangely calm. It wasn't as frightening as when I had to step out of the condo this morning.

 

"The summons was issued a long time ago. Why is it only arriving now?"

 

"But I’m still within the deadline," I replied calmly, my face expressionless and my response sounding rather blunt.

 

It was a stark contrast to when I got out of the car. After walking inside the police station and realising the zombie-like reporters couldn't follow me, I felt calmer, even though the investigator in front of me was acting as if I were already guilty.

 

"I meant the first warrant," the handsome policeman said coldly. He seemed to be trying to maintain a calm demeanour, but I could sense that deep down, he must be quite annoyed with me, even though I haven't done anything to him. 

 

"You’ve been gone a long time."

 

"I'm sick," I replied firmly, as always. "My boyfriend passed away. I have a lot of paperwork to handle. Once the funeral is over, I..."

 

"He tried to commit suicide but didn't die."

 

I secretly glanced at Fourteen, who was sitting next to me. He hadn't said a word since we walked into the interrogation room, just sat there listening quietly, like He was just observing. He didn't even look at me. The mask covering half his face made it difficult to read his emotions, but the beautiful eyes peeking out from behind it glared at the officer, as if one wrong word would drag the other's soul across the bridge prematurely.

 

"And now I'm sick," I said, taking the documents I'd prepared out of the envelope, placing them on the table, and sliding them towards the investigating officer. "This is my medical certificate. I have depression and an anxiety disorder. I'm currently taking medication. My condition is unstable, so I haven't been able to leave the house."

 

"Hmm." The young policeman took the medical certificate. He pretended to read it, but I think he just glanced at it briefly, only enough to catch the signature.

 

"Dr Beam only cares about the details of my illness and its severity. He doesn't care about that at all. 'If that's the case, you should request a postponement of your testimony. Just disappearing like this makes it look like you're deliberately not cooperating.'"

 

"I'm sorry, but I'm all alone right now. When my condition flares up like that, I simply can't bring myself to handle these matters." The investigator stared at me intently for a moment. He seemed to dislike my arrogant attitude, yet he still maintained his composure.

 

He handled the situation professionally. He sighed softly before handing my medical certificate to his subordinate, who was busily scribbling notes beside him.

 

"Then it's good enough that you came today," he said sternly. "I will be in charge of both of your cases, because I see a pattern. They are related, so if you think there's anything I should know, please cooperate by providing me with complete information."

 

"Yes," I replied, this time glancing to the other side. My older brother was sitting beside me as well. When I told him I wanted to give a statement to the police, he immediately offered to help as my lawyer. My brother gave me a lot of advice on preparing documents and answering questions in a way that would put me at the least disadvantage. "Actually, I'm here today to defend myself as much as I can. Regarding both allegations, the claim that I intentionally killed Mr Chanon and the claim that I ambushed and killed Gloy, I deny all charges."

 

The police didn't seem surprised by my denial of the allegations. It's clear what it means to come here with a lawyer. I wasn't going to disappear while the media was making a big fuss about the day my boyfriend died, and then come back and say, "Okay, I did it. I'm turning myself in."

 

"Then let's take it one step at a time," he said, leaning back in his chair. His relaxed demeanour made it seem as if he was waiting to hear a story from me. Rather than giving testimony about a case involving the lives of two people, "Tell me what happened in the operating room."

 

"yes"

 

I began recounting the events of that day in detail, starting from when I, Gloy, and Chieng were having coffee in the hospital cafeteria. I described Chanon's symptoms, the politician's son, as best as I could remember, and amazingly, I remembered almost everything. I even remembered the colour of the shirt he was wearing when he was brought to the emergency room. I remember he came with his girlfriend; she was the one who gave information about his antidepressant medication and also called Chanon's mother to inquire about any other drug allergies. We learned that someone in his family—his mother—had a history of anaesthetic allergies. That's why the anaesthesia team that day had to prepare the medications, equipment, and anaesthesia tools in accordance with strict allergy-free protocols for the patient.

 

"Are you certain there was no error in the anaesthesia procedure?" the investigator pressed after I had given a partial account, just as I noticed the name on his lanyard: 'Police Lieutenant Chada.' "Let's not even talk about the motive or intent to kill, but how certain are you that the patient didn't die due to negligence?"

 

"I'm one hundred per cent sure," I answered his question with almost no processing time, "before the surgery."

 

"My anaesthesia team and I thoroughly cleaned the anaesthesia machine. Normally, there's residual medication in the ventilator tubing, so we use gas to flush it out as per standard procedure. During surgery, the patient will receive only oxygen through the ventilator tubing; there's no general anaesthesia because we use the TIVA technique to deliver medication intravenously instead. We've switched the muscle relaxant from succinylcholine to a less allergenic one, and we've also requested and kept dantroline on hand as a backup."

 

"Excuse me, but this Dantrolene is..."

 

"Oh, it's a medication used to treat patients who have an allergic reaction to anaesthesia," I quickly explained. When it comes to work-related matters, I often forget that I'm not a professional. I was in the middle of a conversation with the doctor, so I kept forgetting to elaborate. 

 

"It's a medication that's not available at every hospital, but since we're a central hospital, we have it in stock. I requested some for that case as well."

 

"And when the patient had symptoms, did you use any medication?" the police lieutenant colonel continued to ask.

 

"No, I don't use it," I replied immediately, causing the other person to raise an eyebrow slightly, as if they'd seen a loophole in my answer. So I quickly continued, "Because the patient didn't have an allergic reaction. What he had was serotonin syndrome, a condition resulting from taking several medications that stimulate serotonin production simultaneously. These could include painkillers, as well as various antidepressants. As I mentioned earlier, the patient was being treated for depression, and judging from his symptoms, he likely took the medication shortly before the incident, and it's possible he overdosed."

 

"But according to Dr Gloy and other staff members, the patient had an allergic reaction in the operating room. Why are you the only one whose diagnosis is different from everyone else's?"

 

"I can't answer that," I replied honestly. I thought his question didn't make sense. He'd gotten that information from someone else, so why was he asking me? "Even now, I still don't understand why everyone gave that same testimony, when in the operating room, I clearly stated that it wasn't an allergy based on his family history. Although the symptoms were very similar to high fever, high carbon dioxide levels in the blood, and rapid heartbeat, I diagnosed it as serotonin syndrome, not myocardial infarction (MH). I knew his medication history, and his symptoms at that time didn't involve severe muscle spasms. If it were MH, even with muscle relaxants, he would still have significant spasms. So I chose to give him medication to reduce the symptoms of serotonin syndrome instead, and his condition gradually improved. But his death was due to excessive blood loss, not related to any other complications."

 

The investigator fell silent. He was probably reorganising his understanding, because all this time he had only received information from Gloy's side. And I don't know if it's because I speak quickly, but whenever I have to debate, my speaking speed always seems to increase.

 

"Actually, determining the cause of death isn't that difficult. If the family is truly concerned about the cause of death, they should have the forensic team investigate. They can check which medications the patient received before death and also perform a myocardial induction (MH) test. We know the patient had a risk of allergic reactions to anaesthesia because their mother had the MH gene. While the patient may or may not have this gene, it's important to note that even with the MH gene, there's still a possibility of not experiencing any allergic reactions. 

 

This disease occurs randomly and is very difficult to predict. Some people have this gene but can tolerate anaesthesia normally."

 

"Hmm... I understand your explanation. I advised them from the very first days to wait for a detailed autopsy to determine the exact cause of death. However, the father insisted that they didn't want anything to be done with their son's body anymore, so we could only do a preliminary autopsy. He wanted to hold the funeral and cremate his son's body as soon as possible."

That's the strange part. It's unbelievable that no police officer or anyone else questioned why they were so eager to cremate their child's body. Despite making such a big fuss about wanting justice for his son, he refused a thorough autopsy. "Don't you think that's strange?" I asked, unable to resist. I could feel my older brother's gaze fixed on me; he was probably expecting something.

 

He was so agitated that he couldn't wait to say anything. "He's not okay with his son dying in the OR, but he refuses to wait for a further autopsy."

 

"The deceased's father stated that he understood the cause of death from the surgeon, and therefore, no further tests were necessary. Essentially, he wants to press charges against you for what appears to be a deliberate murder of his child."

 

"I didn't kill him," I insisted firmly. "No matter how many times I say it, it's the same thing. I provided standard treatment. There was nothing wrong with it."

 

"The strange thing is the investigation itself. Why does it not seem like they're trying to find the truth? It seems more like they just want to catch me."

 

My older brother quickly grabbed my hand. I knew this wasn't the answer we'd agreed upon, but the more I tried to explain, the more irregularities I found. It was clear that things weren't as straightforward as the other side wanted them to be. These police officers knew it, but they shamelessly went along with it simply because the other side held power.

 

"You shouldn't talk to me like that. You already have enough to deal with," the young policeman said coldly to the older man.

 

He whispered to me, "Enough. I know my older brother is right. I shouldn't have known and accused them so blatantly, but I couldn't help it. It was incredibly frustrating." "I know you're unhappy, but this is the decision of our relatives. We can't stop them. Our only duty is to try to find the truth as best we can."

 

Trying? Don't laugh. The only one trying is me, struggling even though I have almost no strength left. It's just me here, not those guys in uniforms.

 

"I'm sorry," I took a deep breath and apologised, though reluctantly, thinking that my older brother would have wanted me to.

 

"I just think it doesn't make much sense."

 

"Nothing makes sense right now. That's why we called you here."

 

"Then may I ask a question?" I could sense my older brother was holding his breath. He probably wanted to cover my mouth with his hand, but couldn't, so he just squeezed my wrist like an owner afraid their dog would escape and bite someone. 

 

"Just asking based on experience, Officer, what kind of reasoning would normally exist for relatives to not want a thorough autopsy of their child, especially when they're determined to prosecute whoever harmed their child?"

 

"It's a sensitive matter for the victim's family. You're a doctor, you should know that."

 

"If it's such a sensitive issue that questioning it is forbidden, then why would he sue?"

 

"Please..." my older brother started to dissuade me, but I thought it wouldn't be very helpful.

 

"Or perhaps the relatives are afraid that something might be detected during the test?"

 

The room fell silent before I heard my eldest brother sigh softly, as if he was too weary to speak. Meanwhile, a low chuckle escaped from the other side of me. Fourteen sat cross-legged, arms folded, looking completely at ease, and seemingly held the opposite view to his older brother.

 

"I like it when you're so cocky," Fourteen's voice chimed in. "It's cool, even if it risks getting you sued even more." I met his gaze before quickly lowering my head, feeling the urge to laugh. If I suddenly burst out laughing now, it would be weird. They already think I'm abnormal enough.

 

"I think you should be more careful with your words," the handsome police officer warned me a second time. In his eyes, I was probably truly beyond redemption, which is understandable because no normal person would repeat the same mistake within minutes like that. 

 

"His relatives have their beliefs; you might not understand, but that's not wrong. They have the right to do so. However, making baseless accusations that cause harm to others is wrong."

"But I was just asking," I shrugged, feigning innocence. "I didn't say there was anything wrong with the patient."

 

"I'm just asking if it's possible there's something that relatives don't want anyone to know."

 

"You're a doctor; you know what we can examine on a corpse."

 

"So, what do you think it will be, officer?"

 

"Anything is possible."

 

He absolutely refused. The handsome police officer lowered his voice, staring at me as if he wanted to throw me in jail, which I thought he could have done if he wanted to. It's just that he might be the type who has a strict code of conduct, so he's trying to make my wrongdoing seem justifiable.

 

"We will investigate further to find more evidence on this matter. If you have anything that you believe can confirm your innocence, please feel free to send it to me."

 

"Okay then," he cut me off, as if he was losing his patience with me completely. "You have every right to fight back."

 

"Sure, I'll find one for you," I replied with a smile. "Just in case there are any left that weren't destroyed and then re-forged." Lieutenant Chada took a deep breath. He nodded casually before continuing to ask questions.

 

"Then could you please tell me about the night that Gloy died? There's footage of you entering the central hospital late at night. I'd like to know What are you here for?"

 

"I went to find the evidence," I answered straightforwardly. "The evidence you're talking about. I've been trying to find it since before I came here, but..."

 

"In short, there's nothing at all. The anaesthesia forms, the medication dispensing forms, everything has been altered. So I don't know what evidence I can use to prove that I didn't do it."

 

"Why do you think the documents have been forged?"

 

"Because I wrote it myself," I replied, slightly irritated that he asked such a question when the answer was obvious. "It's a different document altogether, and the information in the anaesthesia system was modified after the incident. It specifies the date and time of the last modification."

 

“Okay."

 

The policeman paused to consider for a moment before nodding in agreement.

"We previously reviewed the documents you mentioned, which were prepared by Dr Gloy, but we will review them again."

 

"One more round, please."

 

"Thank you very much"

 

"So, what were you guys talking about when you encountered the Gloy?"

 

"It wasn't anything important. Gloy just came and asked what I was doing there, saying I'd abandoned my work and responsibilities, leaving them for others."

 

"And what did you answer?"

 

"I don't remember exactly, but generally I cursed back. I was angry," I replied, not caring how he looked at me.

 

I tried to make myself look better than I was, because the truth is the truth. Gloy insulted me, so I insulted her back. A fistfight, isn't that normal? "You don't think I'd just stand there and let her insult me, do you?"

 

"So, that means you had an argument, right?" He ignored my question and asked another instead. I guess he's starting to get used to my personality. I guess I'm getting more and more annoyed with you.

 

"Yes, we had a fight."

 

"And what did you do after that?"

 

"I'm going back. There's nothing left to look for. I've already been found, so I don't see any reason to stay any longer."

 

"How are you getting back?"

"I'm driving. It's my car."

 

"Alone?" I paused for a moment at this question, but I knew how to answer. It would be impossible to say that fourteen were with him; I'd be incredibly stupid to sit here and explain why he caused his heart to stop beating. Or even if these naive police officers believed my story, it wouldn't change the fact that it was suicide. It would be better to confess that I was the one who brought a fake patient to disrupt the emergency room in the middle of the night.

 

"Yes, just me."

 

The young policeman stared intently at me. He probably thought he had sharp eyes and a brilliant mind, but from his appearance, I thought he wasn't. It's nothing special. If he were really smart, he would have realised from the start that I didn't do anything wrong.

 

"Are you going straight home, or are you stopping anywhere?"

 

"I'm going straight home, not stopping anywhere."

 

"And do you know the address of Ms Gloy?"

 

"Yes," I replied. "We've been close for a long time. I already knew."

 

"What time did you get home that night?"

 

"Good morning, maybe around 1:30 AM. Something like that."

 

The police officer nodded in agreement, while his assistant busied himself scribbling away. Writing things down was fine, but he wanted them to use what they had written. Please, let there be some benefit to be gained. It's not like you're going to find a way to get me thrown in jail anyway.

 

"Can anyone confirm that you were already home at 1:30 AM?" I paused again, and this time I wasn't sure how to answer.

 

"Hey, should I just say 'Fourteen'? Wouldn't that complicate things? Should I reveal my face? Big Brother is sitting right here, and I don't think he should know about Fourteen's situation right now. Or any evidence that could confirm your position at that time?"

 

"Uh—"

 

"I can confirm it," Fourteen interrupted. This was the first time he'd spoken since entering the room. "That night, I went to sleep..."

 

"Condos started flooding back around 1:30."

 

"Um...excuse me, but what is your relationship to the doctor?"

 

"He's a friend," Fourteen answered confidently. "One hasn't been feeling well lately, as I mentioned, so I've been staying with him often." 

 

Fourteen's words sounded surprisingly believable. His confident demeanour made him seem like someone who had never lied before. However, from the police's perspective, I think they wouldn't be entirely convinced. Fourteen came with me and claimed to be a friend, so it's possible he's giving information to protect me. But at least it's better than relying solely on my own testimony, because since arriving here, 

 

I haven't provided the police with any crucial evidence related to the case. Could I ask to see the CCTV footage? But wouldn't that give the police too easy access to my address? What if they tracked my movements the entire time I was hiding there? No, the really bad thing is they'd see Fourteen return with me in a dangling outfit. Or could Fourteen erase the images of himself from the camera?

 

"I can delete the image, but I can't edit it. A Grim Reaper isn't an editor," Fourteen's weary voice echoed in my head, along with the last glimmer of hope has vanished, and new anxieties have begun to creep in. But if Fourteen gives that testimony, what will happen in the emergency room? If Fourteen is asked to reveal his face, and the police question the doctors at the hospital further, will they remember that Fourteen was the patient who suffered cardiac arrest and was admitted to the emergency room at the same time I infiltrated to gather evidence? Will they be able to make the connection?

 

"Don't worry, no one will remember," Fourteen's voice echoed in my head again. "I've taken care of everything, both the people and the cameras." 

 

That reassurance made me sigh with relief. Fourteen was more careful than I thought. He had erased all the staff's memories and the footage from the emergency room's security cameras that night. But it would have been much better if he had been more careful and deleted my image from the other cameras as well. Otherwise, I'd be lying depressed in my room right now, instead of having to give a statement as a suspect in another case like this.

 

"Who would have known your friend would die that night? I deleted everything in the emergency room simply because I didn't want them to be troubled by my body suddenly disappearing."

 

But if we're going to delete it anyway, why not just delete everything? I argued with him in my mind.

 

"Okay, I was wrong. I didn't think. If you want an apology, find me a time machine." 

 

If we were at the condo, I would have slapped him. But right now, we're sitting in front of a police officer in an interrogation room. 

 

"And do you know if he went to the hospital?" the investigator pressed on.

 

"Yes," Fourteen replied. "He said there are some documents that need to be picked up at the hospital."

 

"So you let him go out alone so late at night?"

 

"Won usually goes out late at night anyway. He's just a guy."

 

"But isn't he sick?"

 

"He seemed fine that day, so I thought he could handle it myself."

 

"That's strange," the handsome policeman said, chuckling, "you don't seem very worried about him."

 

"Normally, I worry about him, but that day we had a little argument, so I was too lazy to bother him." Hearing that, my eyes widened in surprise. But I quickly composed myself and acted normal, because it wouldn't be good if the police saw me acting as if I'd just heard this for the first time.

 

"Are you... sulking?" the police officer repeated, with a slightly confused expression.

 

"Yes, he said I'm less handsome than his ex-boyfriend, so I'm sulking."

This time, I turned around abruptly. I knew I had to make up stories to survive, but I also needed to steer the plot in this direction. Or what? Even though I knew he was a troublemaker, I didn't think he'd come all the way to the interrogation room like this.

 

"But now he probably admits that I'm much more handsome, so I'm not sulking anymore." Fourteen turned to look me in the eye and continued. With a completely straight face, showing no sign of embarrassment whatsoever, he said, 

 

"Right?"

 

Let's go to hell, Nuan!

 

Bang!

The sound of the door slamming was louder than usual. Normally, it would irritate me, but today it sounded pleasant, like a stirring drumbeat. The mood of a famous rock band. My back slammed against the wall. It hurt a little, but I didn't have enough time to open my mouth and scream because in a split second, Rim...

 

My lips were taken over by someone who brazenly violated my rules. He didn't ask for permission, and I quite liked that. I liked that he could read my mind and didn't hesitate to strictly keep his promise. I really appreciate people who keep their word. This was more than a kiss. It was like he was sucking the soul out of my body, devouring my desires insatiably. The clothes Once neatly clad on his body, were now yanked and torn apart. The outer suit jacket fell to the floor, the top three buttons were undone, followed by the belt and slacks, which easily slipped off his hips.

 

Even though my mouth was being relentlessly kissed, I wasn't just standing there limp and letting him have his way with me. I tried to take off my suit. He took it off, tossed it on the floor, before returning to deal with his own belt. But the power-hungry lunatic refused to cooperate. He grabbed both my hands, pressed his body against mine until I was practically one with the wall, and simultaneously thrust his tongue into my mouth, the sound of saliva making my mouth tingle.

 

I tried to shake my hand free from his grip, but it seemed impossible. I'm sure I'm not that weak, especially if I were a man. Normally, I could easily overpower him, but the villain who's devouring me right now isn't an ordinary man.

 

Why would the Grim Reapers need so much strength? Their work doesn't require that kind of physical exertion.

"Hmm..." I started protesting when the Grim Reaper seemed to have forgotten that I'm a human who still needs to breathe, and whose body… It's like I'm surrounded on all sides. Does he intend not let me do anything at all?

 

"Whining," Fourteen reluctantly pulled away, but as soon as her mouth was free, she couldn't help but grumble, "So demanding."

 

"I'm going to die!" I grumbled, refusing to give up. My mouth always works well, no matter the situation. But my body... that's another story. Even though I'm willingly letting the Grim Reaper nuzzle my neck now, it doesn't mean I'm going to give in completely. "Aren't you afraid I'll die?"

 

"You won't die from something like this."

 

"Who knows?" I whispered softly, reaching out to touch the century-old Grim Reaper's manhood without hesitation. Unbelievably, it was...

 

"I've grown this big after just a few minutes of kissing and foreplay. You're making me so excited, I might have a heart attack!"

 

"Please keep it light."

 

"I'm serious."

 

"Then just be patient," the young Grim Reaper leaned his face closer, nuzzling my ear. His hot breath caressed my skin, accompanied by a low hum. Softly, with a satisfied tone, he said, "If you rush in now, you'll regret it."

 

That alone sent shivers down my spine. I never imagined Fourteen could create something like this. I thought his sex would be more intense. It felt like I was being punished, but when I actually experienced it, it was gentler than I expected. His words were still harsh, yet strangely sweet to the ear.

 

"Stay still, don't be stubborn," Fourteen said sternly as I tried to unbutton his shirt. My left leg was lifted and wrapped around his slender waist. Before I could feel the warmth trying to penetrate the bottom edge of my underwear, "Have you done it yet?"

 

"I...I already did it," I stammered, my voice filled with excitement. I immediately understood that the word "did" in Fourteen meant preparing beforehand.

 

"I started that kind of activity, of course. I was prepared ever since he said that if I agreed to testify, he would do everything I wanted."

 

And he knows exactly what I need from him most right now. I was so preoccupied with his shirt that I didn't even realise when Fourteen had unleashed his wickedness. He slipped it into my underwear and started rubbing it back and forth rhythmically. It was huge, hard, and burning hot. Our masculinity rubbed against each other, soaking my underwear. Moans mingled with our moans. Just the rubbing alone made my heart pound so hard it felt like it would burst from my chest. I desperately hoped Fourteen would give it to me soon, to insert it fully, to make me speechless. I didn't want to imagine it anymore.

 

"You did well today," Fourteen said softly. I didn't expect him to bring that up now. At this moment, I don't want to think about anything at all.

 

"That's it. I just want to have sex. I want to go crazy and forget everything. 'Great job...my talented one.'"

 

"yeah..."

 

But maybe...this isn't so bad after all. He called me a talented person.

 

"You know why I'm trying so hard," I said, chuckling softly, as I reached one hand around my back and slipped it around my waist. The underwear was pulled down to that twitching, throbbing opening, and fingers were used to massage it, relieving the unbearable urge.

 

"Don't you ever think about trying for yourself?"

 

"See... I'm trying for myself." Without further ado, I leaned in and bit his lower lip, tugging gently like a puppy teething. Fourteen, let me have my way without a single word of complaint. "Try to get him to give in to my wishes."

 

"You're willing to fight just to sleep with me, huh?" Fourteen chuckled softly, moving his hips faster until my body trembled. "You..."

 

"His condition is really serious."

 

"I know... I understand." Hearing Fourteen's voice so close as we moved and rubbed against each other only intensified my desire. This kind of physical contact...

It was stimulating enough, but it didn't satisfy me... "That's just how I am." I need more. I wish he would deal with people like me once and for all.

 

"Giving up already?" Fourteen teased. He knew everything in my head. Of course, he knew how much I needed him. But they still wouldn't stop teasing each other, "You want it so badly, don't you?"

 

"Uh...fourteen."

 

The Grim Reaper smirked, clearly enjoying himself immensely, before unexpectedly scooping me up into his arms without any warning. Startled, I raised both arms and wrapped them around his neck, my legs automatically intertwining with his slender waist.

 

"You looked stunned," Fourteen teased. I slapped him back, but the Grim Reaper didn't seem fazed at all; in fact, he seemed amused.

 

Fourteen lay me down on the sofa in the middle of the living room. I lay flat along the length of the sofa, breathing heavily. It was both exciting and uncomfortable. I felt like I couldn't breathe, so all I could do was lie there and watch as the Grim Reaper, straddling me, slowly undressed in a very seductive pose.

 

With just a slight movement, I could see his sculpted muscles. The tattoos stretching from his chest to his back moved like animations. Especially when he ripped his shirt off and threw it aside, a hot flush spread through my lower abdomen. The line from his lower stomach disappearing into the waistband of his pants drove me crazy. I wanted to lunge forward and lick it. How could he drive the viewer so insane? Was this the power of the Grim Reaper, too?

 

"Wow...you," I couldn't help but groan when I saw his body in full view. This is what I've been longing for. I've been trying to take off his shirt for a while now.

 

But he wouldn't budge. He kept undressing me, stripping me down to just my tattered shirt, soaking wet underwear, and socks, while he himself remained almost fully clothed, with only his suit jacket left discarded at the door.

 

"What?" Fourteen turned to me, raising an eyebrow, while squeezing lubricant onto his frighteningly erect manhood. "Changed your mind?"

 

"No...changing would be crazy," I said, impatiently reaching down to massage my own penis. Just seeing Fourteen getting ready was enough.

 

Right in front of me, I was already imagining our next sexual encounter. "Put on a better face," Fourteen narrowed her eyes at me. "Aren't you ashamed?"

 

"No," I answered without the slightest shame, even though I knew my expression when I looked at him probably looked like that of someone high on drugs. "I feel like..."

"I'll get pregnant."

 

"Please," the young Grim Reaper looked at me with exasperation, "stop rambling. You're a doctor."

 

"But you're not a normal man, you're the Grim Reaper."

 

"A grim reaper mimicking a human body." Fourteen finished speaking, and then he squeezed himself between my legs. He pulled my underwear down my thighs. I cooperated fully, but it seemed he had less patience than I thought, so the damp underwear remained dangling on my right leg.

 

"Stop thinking such weird things."

 

"I know," I replied indifferently. "But thinking about it, it's fun."

 

"I know," Fourteen replied, before his long fingers, coated with lubricant, slowly and subtly slipped inside me. It didn't hurt at all, but it made my body suddenly feel hot, like I had a fever. "You have a lot of strange fantasies in your head."

 

"So, are there any that you like?"

 

"I don't feel anything," his voice sounded relaxed, a stark contrast to the way his fingers moved in and out. He eased off the pressure at first, letting conversation distract me, and when he saw I could handle it, he moved his fingers rapidly, as if the gentleness before was just a joke. "I'm inexperienced. I might have to try a few things before I know."

 

I wanted to say something in return, but I couldn't. My body was in turmoil. Fourteen wasn't patient with me at all. His fingertips repeatedly struck my erogenous zones while his other hand teased my manhood with equal intensity. And all the while, he stared at me as if I were prey, a toy he'd bought for his entertainment, and he could do whatever he wanted with me. That would be good. I want to be his toy.

"So...what now?" Seeing that I was speaking less, he slowly withdrew his fingers. Fourteen then repeatedly stroked my thigh. His face showed amusement, as if he were waiting for me to say something. "What do you want me to do? Just tell me."

"you...

 

"I promised to indulge you, so you have to tell me what you want," he teased me every chance he got. Fourteen probably thought this would make me learn my lesson and never dare to bother him again. Wrong. What was he thinking? They're struggling like that.

 

"Do I still need to tell you?" I said, with a poker face, my hands sliding downwards to facilitate the process and clearly showing the Grim Reaper what his next task was. "Serving you right here like this, if you still can't do it right, I don't know what else to say."

 

That was the last sentence I had a chance to speak loudly, because just seconds later, the flamboyant Grim Reaper shook off the game.

 

He teased me, then pulled my hips closer before thrusting his wicked manhood into me for a deep, punishing assault. There was hardly any time to prepare myself. He pounded into me with full force, one of my legs draped over his broad shoulder, the other hanging limply over the edge of the sofa, its strength gone, along with my underwear still clinging to my thigh. He was sucking the life out of me, draining my flesh and blood without remorse. Right now, he only cared about one thing.

 

"Like this?"

He would kill me, kill me because of his unbearable lust.

 

"Are you satisfied with this?"

 

"Ah..." I could only gape. My entire abdomen felt tight and constricted. I felt like something was broken after the sex. This time, he was huge and knew no bounds. The sound of the sofa legs scraping against the floor didn't faze the Grim Reaper at all; instead, he only got faster and faster.

 

"You're such a pervert, Won," Fourteen grabbed the leg that was draped over his shoulder and lowered it to the side, then reached over and grabbed both of my wrists together. He rested on my lower abdomen and then entered me with considerable force. "Do you know how much I had to endure your thoughts?"

 

"You...I..." I couldn't even form a complete sentence. My body trembled with his force. My lower body was tight, yet I liked it in a way I couldn't describe. All I knew was that it was incredibly satisfying. This was the feeling I craved, the feeling of being desired, of driving someone crazy because of me. I'd waited so long. "Don't stop...don't stop."

 

I like how he treats me so roughly. It's like when I have sex with P'Fah. P'Fah, who is kind and lovely, like a loyal old dog in normal times, but no one knows that he transforms into a vile demon every time we make love. P'Fah likes to act like he wants to destroy me, to utterly wreck me. He mounts and thrusts without caring that he's a famous gentleman, the dream guy of many young people, and I am a trustworthy doctor, a gentleman in a lab coat who seems like he's never sworn before in his life.

 

Fourteen is making me feel that way. I believe that at this moment, he wants nothing more than me. My body, lying there for him to do as he pleases, responds to his intense drive without complaint, only saying, "More, harder, please don't stop yet. I can still take more." This is a profound pleasure I haven't felt in a long time, and Fourteen is giving me back every last drop, making it worthwhile.

 

"Call his name," Fourteen whispered huskyly in my ear. He pulled me onto his lap, facing outwards. I leaned my back against his broad chest, allowing him to lift my knees under his shoulders in an embarrassing position while I trembled as he thrust into me. "Go ahead. You miss him, don't you? Call his name."

 

The wicked Grim Reaper kept whispering those words, as if hypnotising me. I knew what I was thinking, or who I was thinking of, and I wasn't resentful at all that my mind wandered elsewhere while I let him have his way with my body. On the contrary, I felt like Fourteen liked it this way. He was waiting to hear another man's name from my lips.

 

"Call him quickly, what are you waiting for?"

 

"Brother...Fah," I stammered, my voice trembling, because this crazy, energetic guy wouldn't stop bullying me without a break.

 

"Louder"

"Fah..."

 

"Speak nicely," his whisper made my face flush. "What's wrong with your voice? Why isn't it as good as when you're arguing with me?"

"Fourteen...ah!"

 

"Whose name should I call you?"

 

"It will...it will be finished."

 

"Won, I told you to call me that."

 

"P'Fah!"

 

I let out a last ounce of strength before Fourteen changed my position again. He pulled back, forcing me to kneel on the floor. He pressed my face down onto the sofa and began his self-centred act again, without giving me a single moment to breathe. He kept repeating it. Each time he penetrated me, it hit the hidden erogenous zone inside me with force. The more he emphasised it, the more I cried out. And the more I moaned, the more he enjoyed it. Moans and gasps of pleasure escaped his lips intermittently. It was like a beautiful, melodious melody to me.

I can't... I'm too happy already.

 

"What...are you done already?" Fourteen chuckled softly as she felt my body twitch and tense up in waves, the pent-up tension being released. I came out all over the sofa and the carpet downstairs. My body was limp like wax melting in a flame. I was breathing heavily and weakly. "You're no match, Won. You're the one who asked for it."

 

"Truly"

 

The foul-mouthed Grim Reaper withdrew again. This time, he made me sit on the floor facing him, leaning my back against the base of the sofa. He lifted both my legs… My arms wrapped around his waist, and I thrust into him again, pounding so hard my head shook. I could barely keep my eyes open, but I tried to look at his face as he enjoyed my body. Fourteen was so handsome, so incredibly good-looking, that it made my heart race. His sharp eyebrows were furrowed, sweat glistened on his face, and his jawline was so defined that I couldn't resist tracing the line of his alluring face with my tongue.

 

I raised both arms and wrapped them around his neck, my legs behind Fourteen's waist, spreading my legs wide to let his warmth engulf him completely while we exchanged passionate kisses. He ravished every corner of my mouth, and I reciprocated without giving up, licking him loudly and even biting his soft lips with playful intensity.

"You'll regret doing this to me." Fourteen whispered, his voice trembling, before instantly withdrawing. He stood tall, towering over me, his large hand stroking the enormous, about-to-explode member.

 

"Clever people...close their eyes."

 

I looked up and closed my eyes obediently as instructed. A low growl, like a roar, escaped his throat before I felt something… Warm liquid smeared on her cheek, then spread to her mouth and chin.

 

"Open"

I opened my mouth again as he commanded. My mouth filled to the brim. A familiar scent filled my mouth. I gently pursed my lips, out of habit, letting the large object move in and out slowly, while I slowly swallowed the remaining drops without any hesitation.

 

"Very good," Fourteen praised me again after withdrawing. He was slightly out of breath as he reached out to stroke my head. I slumped against his lap. He moved his head affectionately, rubbing it against mine to let me know how much I enjoyed his roughness. "Do you like it?"

 

"I like it," I answered without hesitation. "I like it very much."

 

"Have you said thank you yet?"

Just a simple sentence was enough to send shivers down my spine again. I really like how he says, "You're so talented." I want to be like him for a long time to come.

 

"Here, you crawl."

Be a good boy to him, for many more times to come.