Requested by RiminJimin420

Song: Crazy Chicks by Ken Ashcorp
Member: Hansol/Vernon Chwe
Ship: Hansol x OC
Genre: Horror
Word Count: 654
Death is in love with Hansol and Hansol is in love with the idea of dying.

"You'd kill for me?"

She comes to me in the night, silent but for the sound of blood dripping from her fingertips as she stretches her hand out to caress my cheeks with bloodstained palms. She sits on the side of my bed, and the light on my desk flickers on, illuminating a small figure in bloodstained white robes, a wide, crazed smile peeking out from beneath the shadow of her hood, and the light from the lamp reflects off the blade of the scythe that leans against my motionless arm. 

She snaps her fingers, and I can finally move, jerking bolt upright and gasping for breath, clawing at my throat as I watch her grin grow slowly wider. Pale arms emerge from the depths of her robes and rise towards me, my own arms falling to my sides as her hands slowly wrap themselves around my neck, tightening their grip the more I try to struggle for air. Her smile never wavers, and even as my vision begins to blur and blacken, her laughter resonates in my mind before I'm falling, falling, falling, falling—

—

She comes to me in my dreams, her presence announced by the chills up my spine and the crawling feeling in my legs and the numbness of my arms and the way I can't seem to think clearly. She rests her scythe against my neck, that leer never leaving her face, even as she draws a line of blood across my lips with her dainty, blood-soaked finger. 

She snaps her fingers, and I open my mouth obediently, and the blood off of her fingers until she disappears from my side, the only memento of her visit the blood smeared across my mouth. 

—

She comes to me with 'gifts', sometimes a severed hand, sometimes a bloody eyeball, sometimes a human tongue, and once — just once — a still-beating heart. She leaves them by my head as I sleep, and she'll be there when I wake to the metallic smell of blood filling my lungs, red streaks into my hair, her grin burning its image into my mind.

Her hood falls back off her head, and the first thing I notice about her is the deranged spark in her eyes, and the dried blood decorating her cheekbones, and before I realise it, I'm following her out of my room and into the woods and up a cliff and towards a child and there's a knife digging its way into my spine, and there's laughter in my head and in my ears and all around me and through the laughter, I hear her voice. "Kill," she says. "Kill for me."

And I do.

—

She comes to me in the night, silent and deadly and beautiful in her own way, and as stained as her body is with blood, mine is ragged and raw and scarred from the pins she carries in her cloak, and as she glides towards me, the lamp on my desk flickering and dying, I flop over bonelessly like a doll, gazing desperately up at her, a single word escaping from my lips. "Master," I say, weak and broken and helpless. She sits on the side of my bed, hushing my demented whispers and patting my head just a little too forcefully, and a tear falls onto the sheets as she pulls me upright.

She snaps her fingers, and I jerk to attention, pleas and supplications dying on my tongue as I wait for her command. 

"Kill," she says, and although her voice is soft, deep and husky, her tone commanding and unforgiving, I can't help but feel as though her voice contains all the love in the world. "Kill for me."

Is it wrong? Yes, something, far, far away says, insistent and desperate, but her laugh resonates in my mind once more and I can no longer think. "Yes, master," I say gladly, and then I'm falling, falling, falling—

I have no experience when it comes to writing horror, so I hope this satisfies you!
I think I also kind of strayed from your prompt?
I'm sorry, but I hope you liked it!
Here, have some Hansol (and please forgive me if you didn't like it, you can request again if you want)

Please leave me a comment if you enjoyed!