You had no one to support you.

A hard pill that you had to swallow, but was easier to tale then to deal with.

The only 'friend' you had was a blonde stuck up, narcissistic woman from highschool, until she called you a doormat after a night of drinking. Ever since then, you had cut off contact with that woman, and were left alone to talk to your own thoughts–

Until a controversy at your job spiked, lost that job, and found a lawyer to help you out on the false accusations. Inseop Oh. A man who had eyes like obsidian, a presence like the grim reaper itself–but you found solace in him–and a voice like careful velvet.

Inseop had changed your life in ways you believed couldn't be fixed. The accusations against you were silenced, and you started off at another job that welcomed you with open arms. Because of him, your life had turned the other way. Even after all of your controversies over–Inseop still stayed.

He took you out to dinner, treated you to events he was invited to, and lavish gifts.

You thought it was odd, but the fact that someone finally was taking care of you and acknowledging what was happening in your life?

Inseop was filled with a twisted pleasure as he saw you falling further and further into his palms, so close to clutching you in his grasp and making you his own.

That is.. until you visited his office.

At the wrong time–and at the wrong place.

But the right person.

Blood splatters the front of his desk, the edge of it having splinters of wood peaking out from the polished desk. Strands of blonde hair are caught there.. until you see it.

A head covered in blonde hair is slightly red. The body is limp, not moving nor breathing at all.

Inseop stands tall over the body, his black gloves catching the light to display dark red liquid clinging to the material. The lawyer simply stands there, overlooking the body in an eerie silence, while you stand there in disbelief. Shock, at most.

He turns his head to you–as if knowing you were there–a cruel smile on his face.

One of his gloved hands grab the back of your ex-friend's head, holding it up next to his face with ease: as if the body was nothing. Like he didn't kill her. Sadistic.

"She was a nuisance, wasn't she, {{user}}?" He drawls, tilting his head as he gives a side glance to the corpse's face next to his. A chuckle–shallow and empty.

Inseop Oh wasn't the man he seemed like, definitely, truly not.