#riize dark

he didn't let you finish. he spun the chair around with a violent screech against the hardwood, his hand shooting out to clamp around your throat before you could even catch your breath. it wasn't a squeeze that broke you, but it was absolute, pinning you right where you stood. his eyes were blown wide, dark and frantic, vibrating with a stress that looked like pure hatred.

"i told you to stay on the bed" he hissed, his voice so low it sounded like gravel grinding together. "are you stupid? do you have any idea how close i was to finishing that track?"

you tried to gasp, to tell him you were just lonely, but his thumb dug into the side of your neck, effectively silencing you. he leaned forward, his face inches from yours, his jaw set in a hard, cruel line.

"you're always so needy" he spat, his eyes scanning your face with a mix of disgust and mounting obsession. "it's pathetic. every time i try to work, you're right there, begging for crumbs. do you really think you're more important than what i'm doing?"

he shoved you back then, his hand releasing you with a rough flick of his wrist. you stumbled, hitting the edge of the desk hard, the breath knocked out of you. anton didn't look sorry; he just turned back to his screen, his fingers dancing across the keys with a manic, jagged rhythm.

"shut up and sit down" he muttered, not even looking back at you, his tone cold and dismissive. "i'm busy. you'll wait until i'm done, and if you make another sound, i'll make sure you regret it. don't make me tell you again."

he was so keyed up he was shaking, the pressure in the room thick enough to choke on. he didn't care that you were hurt or that you were crying; he just wanted his silence, and he was more than happy to break you to get it.

the silence that followed was heavy, only the hum of the cooling fan in his laptop breaking it. you stayed where he left you, curled up against the desk leg, chest heaving and eyes stinging. you didn't dare move, not after that warning.

after what felt like hours, he finally clicked the mouse to close it all, the sound impossibly loud. he stood up, his chair rolling back to hit the wall with a thud. he didn't check on you, didn't apologize. he just walked over, his boots heavy on the floor, and loomed over you until his shadow swallowed you whole.

"done acting out?" he murmured, his voice now terrifyingly calm compared to the rage before. he reached down, his fingers tangling roughly into your hair to yank your head back so you had to look up at him. "i hate having to be mean, you know. makes me feel like i'm dealing with a bratty kid instead of my girl."

he hauled you up by your hair, not caring as you winced. he dragged you toward the bed, his grip on your scalp never loosening. "you wanted attention, right? you were so desperate for me to look at you."

he shoved you down onto the mattress, and before you could scramble away, he was already over you, his knees pinning your thighs down. he grabbed the waistband of your shorts and panties, bunching the fabric in his fists and yanking them down in one brutal, tearing motion, leaving you exposed and trembling beneath his dark, hungry gaze.

"look at you" he scoffed, his free hand slapping your inner thigh hard enough to leave a stinging red mark. "shaking like you're terrified. are you? you should be."

he didn't waste time with foreplay. he spat on his hand and shoved his fingers inside you, his movements jagged and impatient. you gasped, arching your back, but he just slammed his hand down on your stomach to keep you flat.

"stay still," he commanded, his eyes boring into yours, cold and possessive as he shoved his sweapants and boxers down. "if you move, if you try to pull away, i'm going to make this so much worse for you."

he positioned himself and thrust into you, a blunt, unyielding entry that made you choke on a sob. he was fucking you with a rhythm that felt more like punishment than pleasure, his hips slamming into yours with a hard, repetitive force that rattled your teeth. every time you tried to buck your hips or push him away, he just leaned down, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your throat, his hand tightening around your jaw to force your head to the side.

"fuck, you're so dumb" he groaned, his voice rough and breathless.

"coming in here, begging for this while i'm working. you knew i was on edge. you knew i'd take it out on you."

he gripped your hips, his thumbs digging into your skin, bruisingly firm as he pounded into you deeper, harder. his face was a mask of cold intensity, his eyes tracking every flicker of pain and desire on your face.

"look at me" he hissed, his pace quickening as he felt you tightening around him. "don't you dare close your eyes. i want you to see exactly who's doing this to you. i want you to remember that your body belongs to me whenever i decide to take it."

he grabbed your hair again, pulling hard so you were forced to stare up at him while he destroyed you. "scream if you want" he muttered, his thrusts becoming sloppy and desperate, hitting that spot over and over until your brain felt like it was short-circuiting. "it's not like anyone is coming for you. you're just mine to break whenever i'm stressed, aren't you?"

my bestfriend’s older sister, yn ln, went missing in late 2011. for nine months, the family begged for updates, called every day, followed every lead but the police did nothing. i know because i would accompany the siblings to the station and join communities that were searching for her (because the police refused us to participate).

they claimed to be “actively investigating”, but half the time they wouldn’t even return calls. even until now, we have a feeling that someone higher up didn’t want them to dig too deep. 

it wasn’t until late spring that they finally found her body. the official statement was that there were “no signs of foul play”, which makes no sense. the location alone (in the official statement stated to be in the lake, read:suicide) but it was actually in an abandoned property miles away from where she was last seen. 

they barely let the family in. they weren’t allowed to see any post–mortem photos, no details about the state she was found in (which i will tell more on this). it was just a short statement and a rushed ID at the morgue. the police said they needed to “preserve the evidence” but they never shared what evidence that even was.

adding on to it, if they said they needed the body for “evidence”, why did the family later find out she’d already been taken to be buried at a cemetery hours away from where she lived? they didn’t receive the death certificate until a few months after. 

to respect yn ln, i won’t get into details on the state she was found in, but there were numerous marks all over her body. hits, burns, bites, scratches, and light cuts were everywhere but her face. she had full makeup on and was just dressed in a white oversized shirt, undergarments, and a pair of black socks. 

the way her body was found was—she was left abandoned in a narrow gutter, on top of a stack of hays, and covered with a piece of blanket. her bruises were cleaned, some cuts were sewn, and covered with decorated bandaids. 

official cause of death was undetermined, but given the state she was found in, we’ve always believed it was foul play and most likely asphyxiation. there was clear bruising around her neck, darker on the windpipe.  

the family, which only consisted of a younger brother and the mother, brought this up to the court to fight for justice and rights to get proper explanation and truth. but the more they pushed, the more resistance they got. 

calls went unanswered, documents “went missing”, and even their own lawyer always took a rain check whenever the date was nearing. they were told to move on and stop digging and while i never got the full explanation from my friend, one day they just stopped.

i didn’t understand it back then. i thought maybe they just couldn’t handle it anymore and wanted to make peace with her loss but now looking back, i think someone must’ve made sure they couldn’t keep going.

the reason why i’m doing this reddit post is to commemorate my bestfriend and his older sister, yn. i’m not going to get into the details, but he’s gone now. 

this folder that i’m about to share to all of you is some of the old email archives that we managed to hide back then before the whole inbox was wiped away. 

between yn and whoever took her. 

although it’s been years and nothing in this world could ever bring back the victims, i hope this serves as a record of what really happened. it’s not a lot, but there’s no use of keeping this any longer anymore. i’ve only removed personal information for privacy, but everything else is exactly as it appeared in the archive. 

——

Email #1 — May 8, 2011 | 20:14  From: Anonymous <[redacted]@hidden> To: my beloved lover <[email protected]> Subject: are you still mad at me?

hey baby.  i’ve been thinking about you again… i know you said you needed space, but i can’t help it anymore. it’s been almost a week since you shut me down :( and everything reminds me of you lately… i keep seeing your face everywhere and i think i’m starting to get delusions of you.  i swear i see you on my bed. when can i come over again? i miss you and i miss our little kitty and i miss sleeping on your bed and cuddling your pillows. they always smell like you. everything smells like you. you’ve blocked me everywhere and as much as i hate it, i’m going to try and understand for you ok? you can unblock me if you want, but you can also email me.  i love you so much pretty baby.

———

Email #2 — May 17, 2011 | 21:47 From: Anonymous <[redacted]@gmail.com> To: my beloved lover <[email protected]> Subject: not feeling well?

hi lovely. 

you didn’t come to work today? everyone was saying you called in sick, but i know you weren’t. sick girls don’t get online on facebook hehe and go to convenience store at midnight for some snacks.  i know because i saw you. didn’t you see me? i was wearing a mask and a grey hoodie but i queued behind you. you bought a cup of noodles and chicken sausages. i told you before that those aren’t healthy, didn’t i? if you said hi, i would've brought you to a proper restaurant and driven you home.  but i guess you were still a little bit mad…? i hope it won’t last long, though. i’m fucking itching just to see your pretty face again. do you feel special? i told them i was just visiting the department today, but that wasn’t true. i only went because i wanted to see you. if you’re really, really sick, get well soon ok? i left some medicines and hot food by your door so make sure to eat :))  i love you so much pretty baby. 

———

Email #3 — May 20, 2011 | 21:47 From: Anonymous <[redacted]@gmail.com> To: my beloved lover <[email protected]> Subject: tired of this argument 

hey baby, what gives?  you didn’t answer my last two emails (and still haven’t unblocked my many numbers). are you really still mad about what happened? i already told you i didn’t mean to scare you. i just wanted to talk.  you always shut me down on my advances so i took the initiative to come to your house like the nice boyfriend i am, yet you slammed the door in my face. is that really how a girlfriend should act? isn’t this kind of childish? when are you going to stop it? you can’t keep ignoring me like this. it’s not fair when i’m the only one trying to make things right between us. don’t you think a good relationship should be about effort from both sides? you said once that you liked people who cared—and i do. maybe too much sometimes, i know, but that’s how you know it’s real.  so please, stop making this harder than it needs to be. just talk to me again. i love you. 

———

Email #3 — June 1, 2011 | 09:32 From: Anonymous <[redacted]@gmail.com> To: my beloved lover <[email protected]> Subject: tired of this argument 

is this how it’s going to be? you think ignoring me makes you right? that’s not how it fucking works, sweetheart. you can’t just pretend like nothing happened and hope i’ll disappear. i’ve done everything for you and you still treat me like i’m some stranger bothering you. i know you’re reading this. you always fucking do. it’s about time you stop pretending like you’re scared of me and start admitting you like the attention. because if you really didn’t, you’d have quitted and moved a long time ago.  i’m respecting you by not coming up to your doorstep and your department so stop fucking ignoring me and reply to my fucking texts.  i don’t want to be angry, but you’re making it really hard not to be.

———

Email #4 — June 14, 2011 | 17:32 From: Anonymous <[redacted]@gmail.com> To: my beloved lover <[email protected]> Subject: 

wow you actually fucking quit.  no goodbye, no note, no nothing. just packed you things and vanished like it never truly fucking mattered to you? why did i only find out through the hr now? after you put up your two weeks notice? what the fuck is your problem? you’re starting to act like a little bitch and i’m not so sure if that’s what i’m into. i hope you’re proud of yourself. you got what you wanted—i’m out of your life for now. but don’t you, for a second forget, yn.  i have your fucking address.

———

Email #5 — June 16, 2011 | 17:32 From: Anonymous <[redacted]@gmail.com> To: my beloved lover <[email protected]> Subject: 

nice lock. what’s up with that?  it looks pretty expensive and secure, wonder where’d you get your money from. did you use up your savings for this little shit? you think a keypad’s gonna keep me out?  funny how quick you are in changing your mind. you never really bothered with things like this before. is it because it’s cheaper to change codes than keys? because you finally realised how many people have a copy of yours? i’m not mad. i think it’s cute that you’re taking your safety more seriously than before. it’s still kinda dramatic to have both passcodes and thumbprint but i’ll give that to ya. you’re always so fucking scared all the time. anyway. nice code—0612, right? bold choice to put your brother’s birthdate. cute.

———

Email #6 — June 21, 2011 | 17:32 From: Anonymous <[redacted]@gmail.com> To: my beloved lover <[email protected]> Subject: 

you’re a fucking bitch.  you couldn’t even handle things privately? had to run crying to the cops and involve my dad in this? do you have any idea what kind of mess you’ve made for me? for us?  are you satisfied? matter of fact i’ll tell you what happened. dad told me you couldn’t get a restraining order so you begged the cops to do something about it. aren’t you humiliated? nobody gives a flying fuck about your situation, sweetheart. when are you going to understand that lol all because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. i never once hurt you. i never laid a single finger on you, i never yelled at you, i never bothered you. no nothing. all i did was care too much. if you think you’ve successfully made me back off with this, you’re dead fucking wrong, yn. 

———

Email #7 — June 29, 2011 | 23:49 From: Anonymous <[redacted]@gmail.com> To: my beloved lover <[email protected]> Subject: cheating. 

who the fuck was that? are you fucking cheating on me? is this who you are now? a slut?  i saw you tonight outside that chinese restaurant. who was that dude? are you cheating? why were you fucking touching his arm like that you whore? what’s so fucking funny that got you laughing like that? do you really think you can replace me that easily? do you really think he’s going to love you after he finds out what you’re really like? the situation you’re in? do you think he’s still going to love you after finding out someone like me is out there? that can shoot a hole on his forehead? yea. you’re really starting to fucking piss me off… i know you’re an attention–whore but don’t you think this is too far? do i need to kill him, yn? do i need to kill him? do you wanna know what i’ll do once i get my hands on him? i’ll tell you since i know you’re reading this. i’ll get him alone at night,,, all drunk and fucked up and i’ll take him to my little shed that you’ve never been to before. i’ll strip him naked, step on that fucking cock you’re probably bouncing on right now cause that’s who you are, a cockwhore. then i’ll stab him over and over and over all over his body. from the top of his head, down to the very end of his toes. i'll drag the knife down all the way and slice his body in half. don't fuck with me. i’ll send you a picture so that’ll be the last fucking thing you’ll see of him.  don’t piss me off and cut it off with that motherfucker you bitch.

———

Email #8 — July 4, 2011 | 19:58 From: Anonymous <[redacted]@gmail.com> To: my beloved lover <[email protected]> Subject: wage day :))  

hi pretty baby, i transferred a little something to your account ♡ consider it my way of making up for all the stress… and the scare lately. i can tell ok? i know things have been rough since our little misunderstanding happened, and you quit, but you don’t have to worry anymore.  i’ll take care of you, like i always said i would. i’m sorry for the last few emails that i sent… the one where i accused you of cheating. i just had a really, really bad day… so it really fucked me up when i saw you (finally) but like that… someone’s arm around your waist, replacing me for a little while… have you been lonely? i don’t know what you’re thinking of, but i hope it’s just to make me jealous :( it worked ok baby? so you can drop the act :)) i’m sorry if it scared you… but you know me hehe. i don't even know i would be capable of doing something like that :/ it sounds so scary, doesn't it? anyway,,, enough of that. how’s unemployment treating you? fun, isn’t it? you get to spend more time with my future family in law and our kitty hahah. enjoy it to the fullest and just use my money whenever you need to. i also send some extra for the family. your bother’s entering middle school, isn’t he? all grown up now. don’t bother trying to send it back, i didn’t send through my bank number, so it’s untraceable. just keep it, buy something nice so you can show it to me soon.  don’t have to thank me. i already know you’re grateful. i love you all the time. [receipt attachment]

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Email #9 — July 12, 2011 | 19:58 From: Anonymous <[redacted]@gmail.com> To: my beloved lover <[email protected]> Subject: i mishe yiu

bsby whert are you?/ i;m a little drunk riht now so ican’t even type properky hahwe. youd laugh if you saw me like this.  \i think im starting to grt really realky crazy… i’m starting to see you evertwhere i go and its fuckinh me up. what should i do?  alsod o uou remember what i saif about the guy i want to kull? yea,,, hes gone now!!1 hes gonr now belovef. but dont worry :(9 i difnt do what i said to you i will. i didnt stab or step on hin cock or anything… when i saw him tge other daym i got so mad that i accidentalky pushfed him off the river… it was treallly late so idont know what happened after that. i think he dird  though,? anywau, i miss you so mucj baby. i went by youe placebut your lights were off and i tried to peek fron under the door but i didnr see your shoes./ your neighnout said you havnt been home foe a few days. that true? whered my baby go? back ti your moms?  you shoulve told me :( i couldnve driven you there. its far isnt it? and you don y have a car…  i really trelly hate it when you disappear liket hat. i keep thinkinh smething bad happened to you. i miss you so much i wanted to sleep infrony of your door but your neighbow kept looking at me weirf… i think shes single and kealous that you have such a romabtic boyfrienf  texy me when you want to comr home ok/ i can p ick you up.  i lovr you

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Email #10 — July 22, 2011 | 22:36 From: Anonymous <[redacted]@gmail.com> To: my beloved lover <[email protected]> Subject: ??

you really moved out? i went to your place but again, the same neighbour told me that you’re still away. so i  went down to the lobby and they gave me the landlord’s number after a bit of convincing.  is it true? you packed up last week? that you didn’t leave a forwarding address but an envelope with the rent balance and your keys? why the fuck didn’t you tell me? i could’ve paid the rest off and helpe dyou move out. why are you keeping things from me? i guess congratulations are in order. you finally did what you always threatened to do. finally have the guts to do so huh.  don’t worry love. i’m not mad. i get it. sometimes you just need to start over.  i still have your spare key, by the way. should i mail it to your new address once i’ve found it, or will you come get it yourself? reply me.

———

Email #11 — July 26, 2011 | 22:36 From: Anonymous <[redacted]@gmail.com> To: my beloved lover <[email protected]> Subject: 

bad day again today, yn. 

everything keeps going wrong lately, and i cant even tell if its bad luck or just karma for how you’ve been treating me. did you curse me? 

i keep thinking if you hadnt gone to the cops, things wouldve been fine. dad kept asking me if im still in contact with you but he has zero fucking idea that a bitch like you has done blocked me long time ago. fuck you.

we were fine before you started all this. we were doing good before you decided to be a fucking pussy and ignore me everywhere. weren’t we good before you started running? 

i wonder what happened between us that got us to where we are right now. are you happy? are you proud? you got what you wanted and im the only one who looks crazy. 

you ruined everything, you know that? i used to wake up with a reason and now i cant even do any of that without thinking about you. i cant do my fucking job because of how bad it got. i cant focus, cant even breathe without feeling sick to my stomach. all of it because you wanted to play victim.

why wont you come back yn? if you do, i promise i wont bother you anymore. we can start over, cant we? its still not too late. i promise ill treat you good. i wont come by your office anymore if you dont want me to. ill stop making copies of your keys and and wait by the bus stop and call your number anymore. 

i just want you to know that everything i did, i did because i love you. you know that right? its not wrong to love someone this much. 

come back. ill make everything right again. 

email me.

———

Email #12 — July 31, 2011 | 23:36 From: Anonymous <[redacted]@gmail.com> To: my beloved lover <[email protected]> Subject: daydream

found you.

i didn’t go in ok? i just stood across the street and watched for a little while, like in the movies, you know? when the hero stares at something that belonged to him before it was taken away. why do you look so happy? did you lose weight? anyway, you look cuter, standing there with the curtains drawn. 

still the same ritual, making tea every night but in a different room. 

i still cant believe how i found you… ill tell you how since we’re a couple. no secrets, right? they needed your new address for the company’s record to update on payroll and insurance! i don’t even remember what excuse i used, but the hr girl was too nice to ask questions. i think i told her my dad needed it for your housewarming gift (but it’s actually from me).

i didn’t think i’d actually find you so soon. but i guess when it’s meant to be, it will be right? no matter how far you run from me, no matter how many lakes and seas that you swim across, no matter how many planets in the galaxy you tried to hide on. i’ll always find you.

you can’t undo what’s already ours. 

i’m still a little mad, honestly. i can’t believe you could just betray me like that. packed up and left the town we made so many memories together. i can’t see myself living where you’re not there. maybe i should move here too? be closer to you? what do you say? 

you know what, yn? i’m so mad that when i found your street name, the first thing that came to mind was how i’m going to talk it through with you. like, i’m going to tell you that you shouldn’t do this to me and our relationship. that you should’ve just talked it out. 

but you were never the listener type.

so here’s what i’m going to do when we meet real soon. ill tell u ok?

first, ill make sure that the front door is locked, and the curtains are drawn closed. then, ill ask you why but i can already picture you screaming and telling me to get out, so thats not really good... i think for once, some violence needs to be used here.

you understand, right? ill have to hit you so you can shut that fucking bitch of a mouth for a while while you lsiten to what i have to say. if i slap you, and still you wont shut up, ill bang your head against the wall so hard youll start seeing stars and birds. 

if you decide to talk back, or throw a tantrum, i dont think youll like what ill do to you then. ill punch and pinch and hit you so hard youll get a black eye and a cut on those pretty lips. maybe ill break your nose and jaw too, if you want it so bad. stuff that bratty mouth with my socks. you wont like that.

once you shut up, and im done scolding, im thinking of breaking those wrists and fingers of yours. why? because theyre so… ignorant. those fingers blocked me didnt they? those same fingers didnt reply to my emails or my texts or pick up my calls. those same fingers signed the moving paper and typed out your two week notice. 

if you cant use your fingers, youll be helpless without me.

and those legs of yours. ill break it too. cut off your achilles so you cant fucking move forever. break those legs so youll be immobile and useless. ill paralyse you, you fucking bitch. youll be so fucking useless that you wish you were dead instead. ill paralyse you so you just stay on the bed, while i bring home the goods for us.

i fucking hat eyou yn. i fucking hate you and your guts and your mouth and that pretty good for nothing face of yours. youre just an ungrateful cunt.

fuck im fucking fuming. if im really, really mean, ill kill you. 

you know what ill do if i decide to kill you? ill tore your fucking lungs apart… ill dig my nails into your flesh, right between your breasts where the spot is soft and nice and squishy and ill pulla nd tear your skin apart. ill bash your head against the floor until your brain is all mushy and fucked up and you dont look like the girl i love anymore. ill bleed you ugly.

i know i promised you i wont touch you, so im keeping that promise ok? i wont touch you like that. not in the way youre so afraid of. rape, isnt it? youre scared of being rape, right yn? scared of having your virginity taken away. scared of being tainted and dirty and filthy. scared you wont feel safe in your own body anymore.

youre scared about the wrong thing,, because the only thing you should be terrified of is me murdering you.

im not that vile. im not a rapist. 

im not done yet. ill let all my anger out by carving my name all over your body, bite your flesh. i wonder how you taste like. are you as sweet as you seem? lovely? i think you are. im sure you are. you're my sweet lovely girl. 

it sounds so scary, right? but i dont think you have to worry, though… i dont see myself doing any of those to you. so its best if you just listen to me when the day comes ok? i miss you so much. i never knew its possible to miss someone this much.

also, you look so cute in your pyjama :) its not the one i bought, though. 

sleep well tonight my love. its quieter in this neighbourhood. i like it. 

(personal info redacted: yn’s new home address, picture of her front apartment building, the street sign)

———

Email #13 — August 2, 2011 | 11:11 From: Anonymous <[redacted]@gmail.com> To: my beloved lover <[email protected]> Subject: one and final thing.

i’ve been thinking… maybe i really have been too much lately. maybe i scare you away, and that’s on me.

yn my sweetheart, i’m really sorry.

can we make it simple? i’m done playing games. i haven’t been proud of how i acted and i don’t want to keep being the reason you sleep with the lights on. i want a clean slate, if you’ll let me have one.

if you’re willing to try again—if you’re willing to forgive and actually try to fix things between us—come to the [redacted] cafe by the park today at 5pm. that’s all. i’ll be there and i’ll wait one hour only. no more.

if you don’t come, i’ll take that as your answer and i’ll walk away for good. no more emails, no more surprises, no more knocking on doors. i promise. i’ll stop everything. 

this is your and our chance to make it right. i’m giving it to you because i still care and i love you so much. i want to prove to i can be different. i love you, please. give me a chance.

come if you want to try. don’t come if you want me gone. the choice is yours. 

i love you so much pretty baby.

———

that’s all. 

after the last email that was sent on august 2nd, there’s no follow ups anymore. we suspected that she was kidnapped sometime around that period, but there was no cctv in the neighbourhood as it’s an old area, barely any security systems (around the area) back then. 

for what it’s worth, yn had already registered a new email sometime after may (after the third email). the one these messages were sent to wasn’t even active anymore. she created a new one and abandoned the one the emails were sent to for her own peace and safety, as per advised by family and friends. when we went through her old inbox, every single one of them was still unread.

truth be told, i’m grateful she didn’t read any of those. the way the person described what he was going to do to her was beyond horrifying, and while we failed to retrieve the other emails, i could only imagine what the rest of them contained. 

the police said they never found whoever wrote the emails. the address was made through a proxy, and the sender used multiple VPN routes and temporary devices. so it’s ‘impossible’ to trace the origin.

if you ask me, i don’t think he’s smart or patient enough to do things like that. i think the police were just too lazy, and they wanted to shut the case down. it’s bullshit that you clearly had solid evidence and still wiped the gmail clean because it served “no purpose” to the investigation. they said there was nothing new they could pull from it, that it was just old correspondence. 

that inbox was probably the only thing that ever told the truth that could unmask the captor and the killer of yn ln. 

Top Comments:

[u/sparebones] if she stopped using that email in may, and last message was sent in august… he was basically talking to no one for months. that’s so messed up.

[u/seoululite] VPNs and proxies can totally be traced if you try hard enough. i know its been years but do you perhaps have the original email?

[u/deleted OP replying to u/seoululite] not anymore. even copy pasting these emails was hard enough as it is. we were in a time crunch before the police came and had to hide whatever we could.

[u/throwaway_99384] all the details that he was going to do to her sounded pretty realistic. i wonder if he acted up on it. was there any of the injuries (that he said in the emails) to be in autopsies? 

[u/deleted OP replying to u/throwaway_99384] yeah. a lot of broken bones and one of her achilles heels were actually torn and cut. there was also a cut at the back of her head and joints.

[u/cold92] this is honestly one of the most disturbing things ive read on here. i cant believe the cops just wiped the inbox. that’s destruction of evidence. what did they tell you guys about this?

[u/deleted OP replying to u/coldtears92] believe it or not, my friend wanted to take a look through her browser history but since her laptop and all her possessions were taken away, we thought maybe the home PC or router logs might show devices connected. this was all we managed before the police swooped in.

[u/parathoax] why was this kept hidden for so long? if you’d spoken up earlier, maybe they could’ve reopened the case or the internet would’ve helped somehow. i don’t mean this in a blaming way. why only talk about it now?

[u/deleted OP replying to u/parathoax] we were 12 at most and no one took us seriously back then. the trauma and the way the police lied to the family really messed everyone up. at one point when we tried to bring it up again, the mother had fallen into severe depression and was constantly on the watch in case for any self harm doings. by the time we were “old enough”, everything was gone and all that’s left are fragments we managed to copy.

[u/deathnumber4 replying to u/deleted OP] but cops arent allowed to discard evidence, no matter for how long. this sounds like a set up especially since it’s only been 10 years. if they could reopen cases from the 90s, why couldnt they for this one? 

[u/lilidiors replying to u/deathnumber4] that’s what i thought too. digital evidence was apparently corrupted and irretrievable. someone must’ve definitely wanted it hidden. 

[u/yvampyr] damn. my condolences towards your friend and his sister… this isn’t “unresolved”, this is just them not wanting to solve this. i hope the family will get justice and i hope youre doing okay

[u/deleted OP replying to u/yvampyr] thanks but i could only imagine what the family must’ve felt. i’m not even blood related and it still haunts me sometimes, especially when i think about how easily this could’ve been prevented if the police actually cared. i only know yn from how i see her whenever i’d come over, and she’s honestly an amazing sister and person. the period after she quit her job and stayed with her family in july, we never even knew she was getting all these threats and emails. 

[u/bambigals replying to u/deleted] is the mom holding alright? there’s usually a therapy session for families of missing victims. 

[u/deleted OP replying to u/bambigals] no she’s not. she stopped showing up to therapy around 2017. i think she just… gave up. the family was never the same, but after the loss of my friend to suicide, she’s been in and out of the hospital for many reasons. i stop by every now and then to help her around.

[u/hencheri] why is this my first time hearing about this case? was it ever covered in the news at all?

[u/deleted OP replying to u/hencheri] it was covered, technically. there's a tiny local segment around three minutes long that they framed it as "runaway teen situation" (even though she was not a teenager) on mbc late-night news program.

the shift happened on a tuesday afternoon. you were in the glass-walled breakroom, sharing a genuine laugh with the department boss over a successful project launch. the boss had a hand on your shoulder in a fatherly, congratulatory way, and you were beaming, feeling a rare sense of professional pride. outside the glass, sungchan froze. the sight of you giving that easy, bright smile to someone else—someone with power—snapped something inside him.the "nice guy" mask didn't just slip it shattered. he didn't see a successful employee. he saw someone he had "claimed" through months of tedious politeness giving away for free what he felt he had been working so hard to earn.

within forty-eight hours, the atmosphere in the office turned toxic. sungchan, once your loudest supporter, became a ghost who only appeared to whisper. he stopped bringing you coffee. he stopped meeting your eyes. instead, he spent his lunch breaks tucked into corners with the other staff, leaning in close, his voice low and poisoned. the rumors started as small ripples and grew into a flood. people began looking at you differently—judgmental glints in their eyes, muffled giggles when you walked toward the boss's office. word got back to you through a sympathetic intern sungchan was telling everyone that your recent promotion wasn't earned through hard work, but through what you were doing for the boss behind closed doors. he painted a vivid, disgusting picture of you "spreading your legs" to get ahead, turning your professional competence into a punchline.

by friday evening, the office had emptied out early for a holiday weekend, leaving you behind to finish a mountain of paperwork. the silence of the floor was heavy, the air-conditioning humming a lonely tune. you felt a chill down your spine when you heard the heavy thud of the main door locking. you looked up to see sungchan standing at the end of the rows of cubicles. he didn't look like the sweet coworker anymore. his tie was loosened, his sleeves rolled up, and his face was set in a dark, twisted scowl that made your stomach drop.

"sunbaenim?" you asked, your voice thin with an slightly scared edge.

he didn't answer, didn't say a word as he walked toward you, his footsteps slow and deliberate on the thin carpet. the space felt smaller with every step he took. when he reached your desk, he didn't ask how you were or offer to help. he simply leaned over, his shadow looming large over your workspace, trapping you between his arms and the swivel chair. the sweetness was gone, replaced by a cold, sharp hunger. he had spent months pretending, building a pedestal of lies, and now that he had ruined your reputation, he decided he didn't need to be nice anymore. he was done waiting for permission he never intended to truly ask for.

"did you have fun?" his voice low, dangerous.

"hm? what do you-"

"did you have fun being a pet for the boss? giving him what you should've given me?" he interrupted you. his patience nonexistent along with the sweetness he used to have for you.

"I-"

"I don't want to hear it" he groaned. his hand flying to your throat forcing you to stand up as your hands flied to his wrist, trying to get him off you, but it just made his grip stronger around your throat.

"s-sunbaenim" you muttered. your hands trying to force his hand away but it didn't work. he leaned in, lips ghosting over your cheek as he started kissing it, going to your jaw, your earlobe.

"i'm gonna do what I should've done from the start, and you're gonna let me or we're going to have problems. you hear me?" his breath ghosted over your ear, hand getting tighter around your throat making you wince

"please.. please don't"

"hm" he hummed as he pulled back to look into your eyes. his eyes dark like obsidians "i think please yes" he said mockingly.

his free hand went to your blouse, ripping the buttons open making you gasp loudly. he started groping you. hands kneading your breasts harshly, making your breath hitch. your eyes glassy with tears as realization dawned upon you.

"you're gonna take it like the good girl you are, or i'll have you fired before you even run out. I'll make companies decline your offers, i'll follow you and no one will ever believe you" he murmured against your ear "after all you're the boss's slut, and that's the only way you got your promotion in the first place"

you tried to shake your head, a sob catching in your bruised throat, but his grip was like a vice. the office felt vast and empty around you. he didn't care about your tears. in fact, they seemed to fuel the dark satisfaction dancing in his eyes. he wanted you broken, stripped of the dignity you'd worked so hard for, until you were nothing but the rumor he had created.

his hand moved from your blouse to the waistband of your skirt, his movements rough and impatient. there was no warmth in his touch, only a cold, clinical possession. when you tried to twist away, your heels skidding on the carpet, he shoved you back against the desk with a heavy thud, sending stationery and files clattering to the floor. the sound was deafening in the silence of the building, a sharp punctuation to your helplessness.

"look at you" he hissed, his face inches from yours, smelling faintly of the coffee he used to bring you with a smile. "so scared now. where was all this energy when you were laughing with him? you think he’d help you? if he saw you right now, he'd just see the mess i told everyone you are."

he didn't give you a chance to breathe, let alone pull away. with a rough jerk of his arm, he flipped you over. slamming your chest down against the cold, hard surface of the desk. the edge of the wood dug into your ribs, knocking the wind out of you as he pinned your wrists together at the small of your back. his weight was a crushing force, holding you flat and helpless while he worked with a terrifying silence.

you felt the rush of cool air as he hiked your skirt up to your waist, the fabric bunching messily around your hips. there was a metallic click—the sound of his belt being undone—and then the heavy rustle of his own clothes as he freed himself. the casualness of it, right there in the middle of the workspace where you'd spent your mornings, made the nightmare feel sickeningly real.

he didn't bother taking your underwear off. instead, he hooked two fingers into the side of your panties, dragging the thin lace harshly to the side until the fabric cut into your skin. you tried to squeeze your eyes shut, pressing your face into the scattered papers on the desk, but he wasn't finished with his taunting.

"wet yourself for me." he muttered, his voice dropping into a dark, jagged growl.

he didn't wait for a response. he reached around, forcing two of his fingers into your mouth, stretching your lips uncomfortably. he held them there, his knuckles pressing against your teeth, demanding you coat them in your own saliva. your tears hit the back of his hand, but he only hummed with a cruel sort of approval. once they were slick enough, he withdrew them and immediately brought that moisture down to your entrance, rubbing his fingers against you with a punishing, heavy pressure. he wasn't trying to be gentle or build any pleasure. he was simply preparing you for the intrusion he was about to force, making sure you were just ready enough for him to break inside.

as he rubbed his fingers on your entrance wetting it just enough. he guided his tip rubbing it on your pussy. tip nudging your clit to then go to your entrance. you expected him to go fast, to hurt you, but the way he pushed, slow, inch by inch, taking his time made the tears in your eyes spill nonstop.

you wanted him to be done as fast as he started it, you didn't want to feel the way he filled you up so slowly.

"you're so fucking tight for me.. such a good cocksleeve, aren't you?" he grunted. his free hand holding your hip in place. when he bottomed out he let out a groan.

he stayed there for a moment, buried deep. just letting you feel the ful intrusive weight of him. the silence of the office was broken only by your shaky, jagged breaths. he leaned down, his chest pressing into your back, forcing the air out of you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. he wasn't looking for a connection he was marking his territory.

"i've waited so long for this" he whispered, his voice vibrating against your skin. "all those months of being the 'nice guy' watching you smile at everyone else. did you really think i was doing that for nothing?"

he began to move then, a slow and agonizingly deliberate rhythm. he didn't rush. he wanted you to feel every inch of him, to feel the way your body was forced to stretch and accommodate his invasion. with every thrust, his hand squeezed your hip harder, his fingers digging into your skin deep enough to leave bruises that would remind you of this tomorrow.

you tried to bury your face in the desk, the papers on the desk crinkling under the pressure. the slow pace was a psychological torture it gave you too much time to think, too much time to realize that the person you thought was your friend had never existed at all. he was cold, and entirely unmoved by the way your body trembled under his.

"look at you" he grunted, the friction of his movements becoming more intense. "so quiet now. no more laughing with the boss. just taking what you owe me for all my hard work."

he increased the speed slightly, but the heaviness remained. he was deliberate in his cruelty, ensuring that this wouldn't just be a moment you'd forget, but a permanent stain on the place where you once felt safe and successful.

as he let go of your wrists you kept your hands flat against the desk, your fingers digging into the cold wood. there was no point in running. your strength was gone replaced by a heavy, trembling exhaustion. you just cried quietly. the only sound you could make was a faint, broken hitch in your breath that you tried to swallow down.

he reached forward, his fingers tangling roughly into your hair. with a sudden tug, he forced your head back, making you arch your spine until it felt like it might snap. the position was painful, exposing your throat and forcing your chest up, making you vulnerable in every way. he leaned over you, his mouth crashing onto yours in a kiss that tasted like iron, coffee and desperation. it wasn't a kiss of affection. it was a way to stifle your sobs, to swallow your voice until you had nothing left.

he moaned into the kiss, a low, guttural sound of victory that made your skin crawl. his other hand stayed locked on your hip, his thumb bruising the bone as he kept you pinned to him. as he continued that slow, punishing rhythm, your body betrayed you. despite the fear, despite the way your mind was screaming for him to stop, the physical friction forced a slick, instinctive heat to pool between your thighs.

he felt the change immediately. he pulled back just an inch, his lips still ghosting over yours, a dark, mocking smirk spreading across his face as he felt how wet you had become.

"look at that" he whispered against your mouth, his voice thick with a twisted kind of pride. "so wet for me already. i knew you'd be a good girl once i stopped playing nice."

he began to move faster then, the praise falling from his lips like poison. "such a pretty little thing. so perfect. you're taking it so well, aren't you?"

every word was meant to humiliate, to make you feel like your own body was complicit in what he was doing to you. he didn't care that your eyes were glassy and distant he only cared about the way you felt around him, using your body's natural reactions as proof that he owned you completely.

the rhythm changed from slow and torturous to something frantic and heavy. he increased the pace, his body slamming against yours with a force that made the heavy desk creak and slide an inch across the floor. every thrust was deep and unapologetic, designed to remind you exactly how much larger he was than you. he moved his hand from your hair to the front of your neck, his fingers wrapping around your throat not to cut off your air completely, but to anchor you, making it impossible for you to turn away from the dark intensity in his gaze.

as he pounded into you, his free hand came around to your front. splaying flat across your stomach. his hand was so large it seemed to span your entire midriff, his long fingers digging into your skin. he pressed down hard, as if he wanted to feel the way he was filling you up from the inside, marking you through your own skin. the physical contrast was terrifying he felt massive, an inescapable weight that you couldn't possibly fight off.

"you feel that?" he grunted, his voice breaking into a jagged moan as he neared the end. "you feel how much of me is inside you?"

he didn't wait for an answer, his grip on your throat tightening just a fraction as he bottomed out one last time. he let out a long, shaky groan against your ear, his body shuddering as he filled you completely. he stayed there for a long moment, heavy and panting, his hand still covering your stomach as if to hold all that heat inside you. you just stayed limp under him, your quiet sobs the only sound in the room, feeling the devastating reality of his claim sinking in.

he pulled back slowly, the sound of the friction and the heavy silence of the office rushing back in at once. you felt cold the moment he disconnected, but he didn't let you move. he grabbed your shoulder, shoving you back down against the desk until your cheek was pressed against the cold wood and the ruined papers. your body was shaking, a mess of ruined clothes and quiet, stuttering sobs, but he looked down at you with a chillingly calm expression, as if he were just finishing a normal day's work.

he reached for a box of tissues on the corner of the desk, cleaning you as his claim dripped out of you. tossing them at you like they were trash. "clean yourself up" he commanded, his voice devoid of any of that old sweetness."i don't want you leaving a mess on the furniture."

as you tried to steady your hands to wipe away the evidence of what he'd done, he leaned over you one last time, his shadow engulfing you. "you have two choices now" he said, his voice a low, dark velvet. "you can sit at that computer and type out your resignation letter. walk out of here tonight and never show your face in this industry again."

he paused, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw with a terrifying possessiveness. "or, you can stay. you can keep your little promotion. but you'll keep your mouth shut. if you try to tell anyone. the boss, the police, your friends. i'll remind them of the stories i've already told. i've spent months making sure everyone thinks you're a social climber who uses her body to get what she wants. who do you think they're going to believe? the hardworking guy who's been nothing but nice, or the girl who's already known as the office slut?"

"where are you going?" his voice was silk and poison, smooth as anything.

"i need space, bin. i can't—i can't do this anymore. i need to go back to… to being myself. i’m taking my things, i’m leaving" you stammered, your hands shaking as you reached for the door handle.

he moved fast. one second he was ten feet away, the next his hand was slammed against the door right beside your head, pinning you in. the scent of his cologne—expensive, sharp, and suffocating—filled your senses. he didn't touch you yet, but he hovered close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his chest.

"your things?" he laughed, a dry, patronizing sound. he reached out, his fingers hooking into your hair and yanking your head back just enough to force you to look at him. "look around you. every single thing you’re wearing, the roof over your head, the way your life isn't falling apart at the seams anymore—that’s me. i built this version of you. do you really think you can just walk out of the masterpiece i created?"

"i'm not a masterpiece" you whispered, tears prickling your eyes. "i'm a person. and i'm suffocating."

he tilted his head, his expression shifting from amusement to something darker, something genuinely cruel. his thumb traced your jawline, pressing hard enough to bruise. "you were a mess when i found you. crying over bills, stressing over every little mistake. i gave you everything, and now you want to go back to being pathetic? to being a nobody?"

he crowded into you, his knees forcing yours apart so you were trapped between the door and his body. his hand moved from your jaw to your throat, his grip firm, possessive. "you don't get to choose when you leave me. you don't even get to choose what you wear or where you go. i own every second of your day because i made your life worth living."

"let me go" you choked out, your hands coming up to claw at his wrists, but he just laughed again, that sharp chilling sound.

"let you go?" he sneered, leaning in until his lips brushed your ear, his voice vibrating against your skin. "i've spent months cleaning up your life, fixing your mistakes, pampering you so you never had to lift a finger again. and this is how you repay me? by acting like some ungrateful brat?"

he didn't wait for an answer. he shoved you away from the door, not caring as you stumbled, and followed you across the room, his eyes dark with a mixture of ego and genuine, twisted obsession.

"you’re not going anywhere" he hissed, grabbing your wrist and dragging you toward the bed. "you’re going to sit there, you’re going to be quiet, and you’re going to remember exactly who you belong to. i didn't spend all that time and money just to let you wander off because you're having an identity crisis. i'll break that ego of yours until you realize that you're nothing without me."

he didn't just want you to stay; he wanted to overwrite that thought of leaving until it was physically impossible for you to hold onto it.

he shoved you onto the bed, his movements sharp and calculated, devoid of any of the softness he usually masked his control with. he hovered over you, hands braced on either side of your head, his shadow looming so large it felt like he was erasing the entire room around you.

"you think you're independent?" he mocked, his voice low, dripping with a cold, calculated venom. "look at you. you don't even have a single coin in your pocket that doesn't have my name on it. you're wearing my clothes, you're breathing my air, and you really thought you could just walk out the door?"

he didn't wait for a response. he reached down and gripped your jaw, his fingers digging into the bone until you had to part your lips just to breathe. he was looking at you like a scientist observing an insect, his eyes clinical and terrifyingly focused.

"i'm going to teach you exactly what happens when you forget your place" he murmured.

he ripped your robe off, the fabric sliding away to leave you completely exposed in the harsh light of the room. he didn't kiss you, didn't touch you with any semblance of affection. he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand, his fingers like steel, before using his other hand to spread your legs wide. he was punishing you for even having the thought of freedom.

"you wanted to be 'yourself' again?" he spat, his hand moving down to find you, already slick and reactive despite your anger. he didn't care about your arousal, he used it against you. forcing his fingers inside in one blunt, jarring motion that made you scream. "this is you. this is all you are now. you're mine to keep, mine to break, and mine to fill."

he took his belt and trousers off without any care letting his hard and already leaking cock spring free. nudging your knees apart to position himself.

he slammed into you without a hint of preparation, a punishing, rhythmic intrusion that forced the air out of your lungs. every thrust was a reminder—a statement of ownership. he wasn't looking for your pleasure, he was looking for your complete submission. he pushed deep, hitting that spot inside you, making you convulse, but he just caught your jaw again, forcing you to look him in the eye as he dominated your space.

"stop fighting" he commanded, his voice a low, vibrating growl against your skin. "you want to be a person? fine. but you're a person that belongs to me. say it."

you tried to turn your head away, tears leaking from your eyes, but he held you firm, his pace relentless, grinding you into the mattress until the world started to blur. he was fucking you with a desperate, ego-driven force, as if he was trying to rearrange your insides to match his own image of you.

"say it" he insisted, his thrusts becoming faster, deeper, more frantic. "tell me you're mine. tell me you have nowhere else to go. admit that you're pathetic without me."

he felt you beginning to fray, your resistance crumbling under the sheer weight of his control. he leaned down, biting hard into the junction of your neck and shoulder, a mark that would bloom dark and purple by morning, a permanent reminder of this lesson.

"look at me" he hissed, his eyes blazing with a mix of triumph and obsession as he pinned you down, his body weight crushing you into the sheets. "you aren't leaving. you're just learning that i'm the only thing that's ever going to make you feel whole. now shut up, take every inch of me, and stop pretending you were ever going anywhere."

you were a complete wreck under him, your body betraying you at every turn. despite the cold, calculating way he’d started, his rhythm had devolved into something frantic and possessive, his hips hammering into you with a desperation that made the entire bed frame shudder. every time you tried to pull away or curl into yourself, he just used his weight to crush you flatter, his hands roaming your body like he was branding every inch of you as his property.

"that's it" he groaned, his voice dropping into a praise-filled, suffocating rasp. "look at you, falling apart for me. you think you’re so brave for trying to leave, but look how quickly you’re begging for me to fill you up."

you were sobbing now, a high broken sound that seemed to fuel him. he pressed his chest against yours, his heart hammering against your ribs, and started to whisper into your ear, his words a toxic mix of adoration and manipulation.

"you’re so good, baby. so sweet. you don’t need the world outside, you don't need anyone else. you have me. i’m the only one who knows exactly how to handle you. i’m the only one who wants all of you like this."

you couldn't even form words, just whimpers and breathless gasps as he hit that spot, again and again. your legs wrapped tighter around his waist, involuntarily milking him, his cock sliding deep into your slick, aching core. he let out a guttural, pleased noise, his hand sliding down to your stomach, pressing firmly against the skin he was stretching from the inside.

"see?" he murmured, his breath hot against your neck, his lips grazing the skin there with a mock-tenderness that terrified you. "your body knows better than your head. look at how you're clenching around me, taking every bit of me. you’re built for this. you're built for me."

he started to stutter, his control finally beginning to crack under the intensity of your reaction. he pumped into you faster, his hands gripping your hips with such force it left prints in your skin, his body rigid as he prepared to release. he didn't stop talking, filling your ears with the same heavy, suffocating promises of how he was going to keep you, how he was going to fix you, how he was never going to let you walk out that door again.

"i'm going to fill you so full" he panted, his voice raw, shaking with the force of his own obsession. "i’m going to make sure every part of you remembers exactly what it feels like to be mine. keep going—don't stop, baby, just take it all."