My Class Is Serial Killer and the System Wants Me to Embrace

The Price of Hesitation

The next morning, I woke up to seventeen missed messages and the sound of my phone vibrating itself off the nightstand.

Most were from Jake, who apparently had been trying to organize a dungeon run since 6 AM. Sarah had sent a stream link. Tyler had shared a motivational video about "grinding your Class from day one."

And one message from an unknown number: Found something. Meet me at Henderson Park, noon. Come alone. - R

I checked the time. 10:47 AM. I'd slept through my alarm and half the morning.

[Quest Timer: 27 days, 16 hours, 29 minutes remaining]

I dragged myself to the shower, trying to wash away the residue of last night's dreams. Killer's Dream had been working overtime, showing me increasingly elaborate scenarios. Some were clinical and efficient. Others were disturbingly creative. All of them featured me as the protagonist, the hunter, the executioner.

The System was trying to normalize it. Make it feel natural.

I turned the water as cold as I could stand, gasping as it shocked me back to reality.

Downstairs, Dad had already left for work, but Mom was in the kitchen reading something on her tablet. She looked up when I entered.

"Morning, sleepyhead. There's coffee if you want it."

"Thanks." I poured myself a cup, adding enough cream and sugar to make it palatable.

"Jake called the house phone this morning. Something about a dungeon?" Mom raised an eyebrow. "I told him you were still sleeping. He sounded... enthusiastic."

That was one way to put it. Jake had gone from zero to obsessed with his Flame Mage Class basically overnight.

"Yeah, he wants to do a Level 1 dungeon run. Supposed to be easy experience."

"Are you going to go?"

I thought about it. A dungeon run meant being around other Awakened, using my skills in combat, potentially triggering my Class abilities in ways I couldn't predict. But it also meant acting normal, maintaining the Rogue cover story.

"Maybe later this week. I've got some stuff to figure out first."

Mom nodded, accepting the vague answer. "Just be careful when you do go. I know they say the low-level ones are safe, but people still get hurt."

"I will."

I finished my coffee and headed back upstairs to get ready. My phone buzzed again—Jake asking if I was alive. I sent back a thumbs up and told him I'd catch up with him later.

Henderson Park was a twenty-minute bus ride from my house. I arrived fifteen minutes early and found a bench with a good view of the entrance. Predator's Eye automatically scanned everyone who passed.

[Jogger - Level 5 Runner - Threat: None]

[Mother with stroller - Unawakened - Threat: None]

[Businessman - Level 3 Merchant - Threat: None]

Stop it. These are just people. Not targets.

But the skill didn't care about my protests. It ran constantly, painting the world in threat assessments and vulnerability analyses.

Raven arrived exactly at noon, wearing different clothes but the same combat boots. She had a laptop bag slung over her shoulder and carried two coffee cups.

"You look like hell," she said by way of greeting, handing me one of the cups. "Rough night?"

"The System gives me dreams about killing people. So yeah, rough night."

"Jesus." She sat down next to me and pulled out her laptop. "Okay, so I spent most of last night diving into some very dark corners of the Awakened internet. Forums that normal people don't know about. Places where people discuss things the government would rather keep quiet."

"And?"

"And Forbidden Classes are real, but information about them is heavily suppressed. Most posts get deleted within hours. Accounts get banned. There's clearly an active effort to keep this stuff under wraps." She opened a document on her screen. "But I managed to grab some screenshots before they disappeared."

The document was filled with forum posts, research snippets, and what looked like leaked government documents. I scanned through them, my stomach sinking with each paragraph.

[Forum Post - User: ShadowKnight99 - DELETED]

"My brother Awakened as Tyrant last year. He tried to resist. Lasted three weeks before the System penalties put him in the hospital. By week five, he'd started a cult following and didn't even remember who he was before. If you get a Forbidden Class, you either feed it or it feeds on you."

[Research Note - Dr. Helena Voss - CLASSIFIED]

"Forbidden Classes appear to have a corrupting influence that extends beyond simple skill acquisition. Subjects show measurable changes in brain chemistry, particularly in regions associated with empathy and moral reasoning. The longer they resist their Class requirements, the more severe the degradation."

[Government Memo - Department of Awakened Affairs - REDACTED]

"Recommendation: All Forbidden Class individuals should be monitored closely. Termination may be necessary if subject shows signs of losing control. Public disclosure of Forbidden Classes remains prohibited to prevent panic."

I looked up from the screen, my coffee forgotten. "They're saying the Class literally changes your brain."

"Not just changes it. Corrupts it. Eats away at the parts that make you human." Raven scrolled to another section. "But here's the interesting part. I found three cases—just three out of dozens—where people with Forbidden Classes managed to maintain their sanity for longer than a year."

"How?"

"They all had the same strategy: regular, controlled feeding of their Class requirements combined with external accountability. Basically, they killed on a schedule, they chose targets carefully, and they had someone checking on them to make sure they weren't slipping."

External accountability. Someone who knew what they were and kept them honest.

"Raven—"

"I'm volunteering," she said, cutting me off. "Before you ask or try to talk me out of it. I'm volunteering to be your accountability partner."

"You can't. If anyone finds out you're helping a Serial Killer—"

"Then I'll say I didn't know. That you lied to me about your Class just like you're lying to everyone else." She closed the laptop and turned to face me directly. "Marcus, you need someone. Everyone in those case studies had a partner. Someone to keep them grounded. Someone to tell them when they were starting to slip."

"This could get you killed."

"So could a dozen other things I do." She shrugged. "At least this way I'm making a choice about it. Plus, if you do go full psycho, I'll know about it early enough to either help or..." She made a throat-cutting gesture.

"That's not reassuring."

"It's not meant to be. It's meant to be honest." She pulled out a notebook and pen. "So here's what I'm thinking. We need a system—lowercase s, not the nightmare System that Awakened you. Rules. Boundaries. Things that keep you human."

Despite everything, I felt a spark of hope. "Like what?"

"Rule one: You only kill people who genuinely deserve it. And I mean genuinely—we're talking serial rapists, murderers, people actively ruining lives. Not just assholes or petty criminals."

"The System gives less experience for justified kills."

"Then you level slower. Better to be Level 5 and sane than Level 20 and a monster." She wrote it down. "Rule two: You document everything. Every kill, every thought process, every decision. I review it regularly to check for signs of corruption."

"Like a murder diary."

"Like an accountability log. And rule three—this one's important—you tell me immediately if you start feeling different. If killing starts feeling good. If the guilt goes away. If you start fantasizing about innocent people."

I thought about Killer's Dream, about the scenarios it fed me every night. "Already happening with the dreams."

"Dreams you can't control don't count. I'm talking about conscious desires. Active planning outside of Class requirements." She tapped her pen against the notebook. "Can you do that? Can you be honest with me even when it's scary?"

Could I? This girl I'd just met was offering to tie herself to my nightmare. To risk her life and freedom to keep me from becoming a monster. It was insane.

It was also the only lifeline I had.

"Yeah," I said. "I can do that."

"Good." She pulled out her phone. "Now, let's talk about your first target. You said this Director Han gave you a list?"

I hesitated, then pulled out Han's tablet from my backpack. I'd been carrying it around like a lead weight. Raven scrolled through the five profiles, her expression getting grimmer with each one.

"These are all genuinely terrible people," she said finally. "Any of them would be... defensible."

"Defensible. That's one way to put it."

"You have a better word for killing someone who beats his girlfriend so badly she's lost hearing in one ear?" She pointed at Darius Cole's file. "Or this guy—" she switched to Chen Wu "—who drove two people to suicide because he was squeezing them for loan payments?"

"Murder. The word is murder."

"Execution," Raven corrected. "Murder implies the victim is innocent. These people aren't."

We were just arguing semantics at this point, but somehow it mattered. The words we used. The way we framed it. The difference between becoming a serial killer and becoming... what? A vigilante? An executioner?

A monster with good intentions?

"Which one would you choose?" I asked.

Raven studied the profiles for a long moment. "Vincent Kane. The con artist."

"Why him?"

"Because he's the least violent, which makes it easier for you psychologically. But he's also the most actively harmful right now—he's currently running a scam targeting elderly people. According to this report, three of his recent victims lost their entire retirement savings." She looked up at me. "Taking him out would prevent immediate, ongoing harm. That's got to count for something."

It did count for something. But it also meant planning an actual murder. Tracking someone. Learning their patterns. Waiting for the right moment.

Becoming a predator.

My phone buzzed. A text from Director Han: Still expecting you at Café Noir at 3 PM. We have much to discuss.

I showed it to Raven. "He's going to ask if I completed the kill."

"Tell him the truth. You tried and couldn't go through with it."

"He's going to push me to try again."

"Probably. But you don't work for him, Marcus. He's offering guidance, not giving orders." She closed the tablet and handed it back. "The choice is still yours."

The choice. Right. As if I had real choices anymore.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, watching people pass through the park. Normal people doing normal things. A couple walking their dog. Kids playing frisbee. An old man feeding pigeons.

People who didn't have to choose who lived and who died.

"I have to do it, don't I?" I said quietly. "Sooner or later, I have to cross that line."

"Yeah," Raven said, equally quiet. "You do. But you get to choose how. And you get to choose who. That's more agency than most people with Forbidden Classes get."

My phone buzzed again. This time it was Jake: Dude where are you? We're doing a dungeon run in an hour. Tyler, Sarah, Lisa, and me. We need a 5th. You in?

A dungeon run. Normal Awakened activities. A chance to pretend I was just a regular Rogue, grinding levels with friends.

A chance to delay thinking about murder for a few more hours.

I looked at Raven. "Want to come on a dungeon run? Meet my friends, act normal for a bit?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You sure you want to introduce the girl who knows your secret to your civilian friends?"

"You're better at lying than I am. And I could use the distraction."

"Fair point." She stood, shouldering her laptop bag. "Alright, let's go pretend to be normal teenagers for a few hours. But Marcus?"

"Yeah?"

"After the dungeon, you need to make a decision. Which target, when, how. Because that quest timer isn't going to pause just because you're scared."

[Quest Timer: 27 days, 14 hours, 03 minutes remaining]

"I know," I said, standing up beside her.

We headed for the bus stop, and I texted Jake that I was bringing a friend. His response was immediate and enthusiastic, complete with flame emojis.

For the next few hours, I could pretend. I could be Marcus Chen, Level 1 Rogue, going on his first dungeon run with friends.

But eventually, I'd have to become something else.

The question was whether I could do it without losing myself completely.

Raven's words echoed in my head: Be a weapon aimed at monsters instead of becoming a monster.

I just hoped the difference wasn't as thin as it seemed.

To be continued...