Author: Michelle Miller Alaska
Date: 2023-10-13 04:00:00+00:00
Description: "The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it." Those thirteen little words, whether the number be lucky or unlucky, were the truest that were ever uttered from my lips. Humanity is in a constant struggle with is good and what is evil. What one considers a sin, one may consider it a pleasure and vice versa. What one considers to be the purest form of enlightenment, one may see it as the ugliest thing ever. I am a simple man who makes his living as a photographer... now. I am also a man who, a long time ago, sold his soul to the Devil to give into my own temptation.
Publisher: Amazon
Rights: Copyright &#x00A9;2023 byanonymous

Immortal Sins

Michelle Miller

Copyright ©2023 Michelle Miller

All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

For permission requests, write to the publisher, at “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Art by Michelle Miller

Edited by Dbie Johnson

Formatted by Designs by Del
michellemillerauthor@gmail.com

TRIGGER WARNING!! This book contains explicit language, sexual scenarios and violence and is intended for mature readers ages 18+

To my favorite Marine. I love you more today than yesterday. Thank you for your help with certain aspects of things in this crazy world.

To my parents, thank you for your unwavering support and constant push to better myself.

To my girls, Sherry, Dbie, and Ivy. Thank you for everything you do and have done every single day since this journey started. You all do different things and for that I love all three of you!

To my readers, without you none of this would be possible. Thank you for believing in me and helping me strive to be the best writer I can be. Don’t forget to leave reviews after reading … they truly help.

Contents

1.

PROLOGUE

2.

CHAPTER 1

3.

CHAPTER 2

4.

CHAPTER 3

5.

CHAPTER 4

6.

CHAPTER 5

7.

CHAPTER 6

8.

CHAPTER 7

9.

CHAPTER 8

10.

CHAPTER 9

11.

A SHORT NOTE FROM DORIAN

12.

CHAPTER 10

13.

CHAPTER 11

14.

CHAPTER 12

15.

CHAPTER 13

16.

CHAPTER 14

17.

CHAPTER 15

18.

CHAPTER 16

19.

CHAPTER 17

20.

CHAPTER 18

21.

CHAPTER 19

22.

CHAPTER 20

23.

CHAPTER 21

24.

A NOTE FROM DR. FRANK N. STEIN (Please give to Christian)

25.

A NOTE FROM VANESSA AVES (please give to Christian)

26.

CHAPTER 22

27.

CHAPTER 23

28.

CHAPTER 24

29.

CHAPTER 25

30.

CHAPTER 26

31.

CHAPTER 27

32.

CHAPTER 28

33.

CHAPTER 29

34.

EPILOGUE

35.

OTHER WORKS FROM MICHELLE MILLER

“The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.”

Those thirteen little words, whether the number be lucky or unlucky, were the truest words that I ever uttered from my lips.

Humanity is in a constant struggle with what is good and what is evil. What one considers a sin, another may consider it a pleasure and vice versa. What one considers to be the purest form of enlightenment, another may see as the ugliest thing they have ever seen.

I am a simple man who makes his living as a photographer… now. I am also a man who, a long time ago, sold his soul to the devil to yield to my own temptation.

The further you venture into my story, of which I tell from the confines of my dwelling, you will find out everything about me. I have many, many quirks that some may call shortcomings. I am confident, which is misconstrued as arrogance.

Do I really give a shit about what people think of me? No. It is my life, and I will live it the way I fucking want. Consequences be damned and believe me when my story unfolds you will see what I mean.

I have been around longer than most. Again, that will all be explained. Temptation is a bitch. I have loved and outlived everyone I have crossed paths with. Strange? Not if you know me. I hope to paint a clear picture so you will know me.

I ask for no pity from those who choose to read my story. Love me or hate me; I do not care. Pity, I do not wish for. I make my own choices, for they will always remain my own, all for yielding to the temptations brought before me that I find oh so sweet.

Who is this mysterious man? You ask as wonderment fills your mind and echoes off your lips. Who is this man that sold his soul to the devil?

I shall tell you, my name.

My name is DORIAN GRAY.

Where to start with this wonderment called my life. I suppose I should start from the very beginning. The day little Dorian Gray was brought into the world.

I was born into humble beginnings, in a small village in England. My parents struggled for everything we had and sacrificed whatever they needed to, to make sure I was taken care of. As crazy as this sounds, I was born in the year eighteen fifty-nine. Yes, you heard that correctly.

I will not touch on what my family ultimately went through. That is something I no longer discuss at length. All you need to know is my parents died within days of each other in the year eighteen eighty-three. I was twenty-four years old. For some reason I was spared the atrocity. I wished not to know why; I assumed the other died of a broken heart when the first departed that world. They were buried next to each other in the Catholic cemetery.

I brought myself up from my humble beginnings to wealth and stature. Well, sort of. The wealth came from swindling unsuspecting young maidens, and the occasional young man, who were infatuated with my charm and good looks. Who wouldn’t be? I was twenty-four years old and had everything to offer. Or so they thought.

Was it wrong? To others it would seem atrocious. To me, it was as normal as putting on shoes. Good and evil braided be. You cannot have one without the other, no matter what the outcome, so I rolled with it then, just as I do now. We will get to my current life in a few more minutes. For my past developed who I became, and it is vital. At least I believe it to be, and that is all that really matters. Whether you do or not, I do not care. Like I said, I do what I want when I want.

After I had acquired a small fortune through a former acquaintance, I purchased my home. It was a mansion really, big enough to be a museum. House number twenty-four, for my current age. It had a ring to it. Narcissistic? Definitely.

I continued to make my living swindling others. That was until I met Basil and the events that unfolded from that fateful meeting.

It was a few months after my parents’ deaths. Basil rang and asked me to sit for a portrait. The day of the sitting I had overheard Basil and a friend of his, Lord something or other, his name escapes me, about wanting to showcase and display a portrait of a beautiful young man. Basil emphatically disagreed.

This is where I learned that Henry, that was his name, Lord Henry thought you should live life to the fullest by indulging in one’s impulses. He also said beauty and youth were fleeting. I had commented, in passing, that I would trade my soul to the devil if the painting shriveled into a grotesque old man while I stayed young and vital. It was purely innocent; I knew nothing like that would ever happen. It could not. When the painting was finished, it was given to me by Basil as a gift. The man was smitten with me I knew, but my feelings for him were nothing but gratitude for creating such a masterpiece.

Henry took it upon himself to try to figure out my personality back then. To no avail. Within a few weeks, I had told him I had fallen in love with an up-and-coming actress named Cybyl. I had invited Henry to accompany me to the theatre. The once budding actress turned into a mortification overnight.

She had told me after the performance: “Now that I know what love is, I can no longer pretend.” Those words she uttered thoroughly repulsed me. Everything I loved about her she took away in the blink of an eye. I wanted nothing more to do with her.

“Seems a little harsh, Mr. Gray.”

I forgot to mention that these memoirs are being recorded by an internet reporter that caught wind of my existence. What happens to him by the end of this interview is entirely up to him.

“I suppose, back then, it was.” I replied as I took a drink of my whiskey.

I continued with my story… I returned home after breaking things off with Cybyl and looked at my favorite painting. The painting of myself. It had changed. At least the face had. It held a grimacing look of disapproval. It was then I decided to ask for Cybyl’s forgiveness. I had planned on seeing her the next day until Henry came over, uninvited, to tell me she had ended her life the very night I brushed her off.

Was I upset? Not in the least. Everyone makes their own decisions in life. It was not my fault she did what she did, not really. I felt no guilt, no shame, no remorse.

A few days later, I moved my portrait into its own room. The room was no bigger than a pantry really, but it has its own space. No one needed to witness the changes in the portrait’s appearance. Apparently, my half assed wish came true. I had made a pact with the devil that night in the studio.

This next part of my “humble beginnings” changed me forever. Made me the man I continue to be today. I had run into Basil on the streets of London one evening while I was taking my nightly stroll. He had told me of rumors that had been circulating of me destroying the lives and reputations of many people throughout London.

I refused to accept blame, again noting that people willfully make their own choices in life. He claimed that he no longer knew who I was. He was right in that respect. He never knew who I was as a man at all. I took him back to my country estate, and he followed me to the room that held the masterpiece he created. Once we entered together, the painting had become a horrifying rendition of myself. I explained that the painting had taken on my soul. He responded kindly that if this was in fact the appearance of my soul, I needed to repent for the things I had done and pray for forgiveness.

Fuck that! Pray to what exactly? The devil made me; God would surely not save me. Not now. He outraged me. The nerve of this high and mighty man! Out of a fit of rage, I murdered Basil that night, in that very room. I sliced his throat with a letter opener I carried with me for protection from the underbelly of London. I later blackmailed another former friend of mine to dispose of the body.

Fifteen years later, in the year eighteen ninety-eight, I went to a local opium den. I was craving something. What, I was not sure. Instead, I ran into the brother of Cybyl. His name was James. Nothing had happened between us, but he had made a comment about my true age compared to the way I looked. Chronologically I should have been thirty-nine years old. Reality had me looking like a strapping twenty-four-year-old. People were starting to piss me the fuck off.

Later that same week, I held a hunting party at my estate. Hunting foxes was all the rage. So why not host a gathering? Somehow in the confusion, James was “accidentally” shot and killed as he hid in a thicket.

Will I admit it was me? Absolutely it was. It matters not whether I confess this now. Every interested person involved at the time is now dead and gone, and I continue with my existence.

“This all seems unbelievable,” the reporter added in as I had finished that part of my story.

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“I’m not sure how this will go over if I publish any of this.”

“It doesn’t matter whether you publish this or not. You wanted to hear my story so I will continue to tell it. What you do with it afterward is up to you.”

“Seems fair. Just how old are you anyway?”

I grabbed my now empty tumbler and walked to my bar to refill it.

“One hundred and sixty-four years old.”

“Excuse me?” The reporter looked at me like a deer in the headlights. The reaction I had grown accustomed to after a century and a half on this planet.

“You heard me correctly.”

I grabbed the decanter of whiskey from the top of the bar and sat it next to my full glass on the coffee table. I sat back down and made myself comfortable. This was going to be a long few days. The reporter and I agreed that he would stay in my home while he recorded my memoirs, if you will.

I reiterated the fact that I was truly the age I was. During the rest of my stay in England I pretty much stayed dormant. I had a reputation that needed protecting, after all. I had made my name in society, and I was a very wealthy socialite, of sorts.

I did have one minor setback. I had become involved with a person that would be considered transgender in this era. It was not love, but it was companionship for the both of us. She moved in with me and things were going well, until she entered the forbidden room without my permission. I snuck in behind her.

“Do you see the monster that I truly am?”

“I do.”

“Do you think you could love that monster.”

“Yes, I could.”

That was not the answer the painting wanted to hear. Within a flash it turned its ugly head with the wickedest look on its face. On my face. I took the same letter opener out of my breast pocket that I had killed Basil with. I ever so gently nuzzled myself next to her ear, I grabbed her neck with my hand and pulled it back. As I whispered sweet nothings in her ear, the blade sliced through the skin of her throat. She collapsed on the floor moments later, bleeding from her wound. Again, no remorse. No sadness. No shits given. She would be a person society did not miss. She was an abomination in her own right, at least in the standards of that time. I never saw, and still do not see, a person’s sex. You fall in love with who you fall in love with.

The rest of my story takes place from the time I reached New York to the present. I will warn you; it is not for the faint of heart. Remember, I do what I want when I want, consequences be damned.

I concluded this part of the interview for some much-needed rest. We would continue the following day. The young interviewer looked at me like I was full of shit. I would prove his doubts wrong with the rest of this retelling.

The next morning, I rose before my houseguest. I had placed him upstairs in one of the spare bedrooms I had on the massive estate. I looked around the bottom floor at all my favorite things. The walls were adorned with paintings. I preferred them over photographs. Photographs only capture certain moments in a person's life; paintings capture eternity. At least in my mind.

All my paintings were portraits, I was never really into landscapes. But for a narcissist like me, I enjoy being looked at. When not in public, I got that feeling twenty-four hours a day. Some find it odd, but I do tend to celebrate the oddities in life.

A few moments later, the internet reporter whose name was Christian, came downstairs. He wore sweatpants and a tight-fitting muscle shirt. I will not lie; the boy was quite attractive. Dusty blonde hair, much like mine, and the darkest of green eyes I have ever seen, in contrast to my aqua blue ones. He may be my hardest temptation yet. Pun intended. The muscles he was showing off, unintentionally of course, were chiseled to perfection. He padded his way down the stairs and back to the side table that he sat at the night before when this interview started. He promptly sat down and opened his laptop, ready to start.

“Good morning, Mr. Gray.”

“Dorian, please.”

“Okay. Dorian.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you.”

“Would you like some breakfast? I can have the cook make you anything you like.”

“Coffee is just fine, thank you.”

“They do say breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

“I know, but I’m not hungry.”

“Okay, coffee it is then.”

I shook a gold-plated bell in my hand, calling for one of my servants. I asked her to bring the silver pot full of the strongest coffee I had on hand. It is called Wish You Were Dead or some shit like that. I acquired it for the name alone. It made me laugh, but it was great coffee.

As we waited for the coffee to be prepared, I took my usual place on the black plush sofa in the great room and made myself comfortable. Christian looked over at me with a quizzical look. He had something on his mind and did not know how to ask. That much I could see. When you have been alive for as long as I have, you learn to read people.

“What’s on your mind, Christian?”

He looked at me, surprised. “What makes you think I have something on my mind?”

“All reporters do. Just ask me what you want to ask.”

Christian fidgeted in his seat before he mustered the courage to ask me the question that I knew would come from his lips eventually.

“What’s it like?”

“What’s what like?”

“You know.”

“I do, but you need to say the words, Christian.”

“What’s it… like to be… immortal.”

I stayed silent as my servant came out with the coffee. She set the silver tray, coffee pot, and cups in the middle of the coffee table. She had also included a plate of pastries from my favorite local bakeshop. The little oddities in life. When the servant took her leave back to the kitchen, I answered Christian’s question as honestly as I could.

“In the beginning it was a blessing. Now I find it to be somewhat of a curse.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Everything I have ever known; everyone I have ever known from a century ago is dead. Hell, most of the people I knew ten years ago succumbed to the same fate.”

“Well, yeah, I guess that’s a bummer.”

“Living for so long, my circle of friends is very, very small as of late. I can count three that have remained loyal. But we will get to them in a few days.”

Christian stood and poured himself a cup of coffee. He took it black and out of pleasantries, he placed a bear claw on a dessert plate and took it back to the side table with him. I poured a cup for myself, grabbed an éclair off the tray and shoved half of it in my mouth. Proper etiquette? Not in the slightest, but I was in my own home and did not give a shit.

Christian chuckled a little and sipped his coffee. “Where did we leave off yesterday?”

“I believe we finished my back story.”

“Ah yes. So, I guess we can continue with what brought you to New York in the first place. As always, I will record and take notes. Can never be too careful.”

“I understand. Do what you need to do.”

Systematically, Christian took out a steno pad and a pencil from the briefcase he had left on the table, along with a mini recorder. He pressed play and pivoted in his chair to look my direction.

“Day two. The estate of Dorian Gray. Tell me what brought you to New York.”

I paused for a few seconds. “What brought me to New York? Quite frankly, London has lost its luster. I had become bored. I wanted excitement, I wanted adventure. And the stories I had heard of the city that never sleeps piqued my curiosity.

“In the fall of the year nineteen sixty-eight, I moved to the heart of the city. Times Square. To some, not the safest of places to take residence, but given my circumstances I knew I would have no issues with anything or anyone. I rented a small apartment that was above a Chinese restaurant. It was a shithole, but I was never in it for long periods of time. By the time nineteen sixty-nine rolled around, my mind was occupied with other things. The sex trade.

“It was everywhere. Sex shops, peep shows, full on porn shows, you name it, Forty-Second Street had it, in abundance. My favorite place to frequent was called Aphrodite’s Retreat. It was a place of pure debauchery. Sex workers, couples, and the like flocked in droves. Whatever you wanted to do to a person went on behind closed doors, in rooms that were in the establishment. I partook with a few women, but my hunger was growing. A hunger I did not know I had until then.

“I am a sexual sadist by nature. Having partners do what I want is a huge turn on for me.”

“Excuse the interruption, Dorian. But what do you mean sexual sadist? I want to make sure I report this as accurate as possible.”

“Surely, you’ve heard of BDSM.”

“Yes, I have.”

“Well, that’s what I mean by being a sexual sadist. Pure dominant and I like to inflict pain whenever possible.”

Christian nodded his head and I continued.

“My hunger had turned into something else by the end of January of that year. The sexual revolution had begun, and the number of sex workers had increased tenfold. Much like the Ripper back in my earlier days, I saw no use for them. Sure, they made their choice to do what they did. In the same fashion they made my cravings easier to feed.

“One night, I walked over to a local tavern on the block, I cannot recall the name, but it does not matter. There was a young, striking sex worker sitting at the bar. It was obvious what she was. I wanted to see how far I could go with her. A curiosity if you will.

I sat down next to her and began my spiel:

***

“Excuse me, do you work here?”

She turned her head toward me. She had red hair. She could not have been more than eighteen years old if she were lucky.

“I’m a waitress here.”

“Well, I think not. You are far too young to serve alcohol in this establishment.”

She hung her head, whether it was out of embarrassment or because she got caught in a lie, I never knew.

“You got me.”

“Would you like a drink?”

I pulled out a wad of cash from my pocket. Her eyes instantly went wide.

“Yes, please.”

At least she was polite. I called the bartender over and ordered an absinthe for myself and she settled for a beer. She produced a fake identification card from her clutch and handed it to the man standing behind the bar. He looked at her like he did not believe what was on the card but prepared the beer anyway. My guess was that she was a regular on the premises.

I waited for the sugar to dissolve into my drink and swirled it in the glass before taking a drink. Absinthe was illegal at this point, but there were a few places that kept it in stock and well hidden. You do not get a buzz from it like normal alcohol, it numbs the senses a tad, relaxes a person. That was what I loved about it.

“So, I gather you are a sex worker?”

The girl in front of me blushed a little. “I am.”

“Can I ask how old you are?”

“I’m eighteen,” she said under her breath so no one would hear.

“What’s your name?”

“Dakota.”

I knew that was not her real name. It was her street name. And that was okay. Whomever she wanted to be was fine with me. I had plans for her where her name was a moot point.

“Want to get out of here, Dakota? I know a safer place where we could have some privacy.”

I made sure to take the bank roll out again as I paid for both drinks and left a hefty tip on the bar. Her eyes widened again, and she excused herself to freshen up. Knowing she would finish her beer before we left, I slipped a roofie into her drink. Rohypnol was my choice of drug. Tasteless and fast acting. It was not officially on the market yet, but I had connections with some of the seediest people in Europe where it was already available.

As predicted, Dakota returned and downed the rest of her beer in one swallow. Soon, she would be impaired enough for me to fulfill my urge, my craving.

“I know a nice hotel we can go to if that’s okay with you,” I said to her as I stood up from the wooden, high-back barstool.

“Whatever you want, doll.”

I let the comment go. Quite frankly, it caused a wave of anger to wash through me. It was trivial, I know, but I was no one’s doll. I was a man for fuck’s sake!

“Follow me to my car, we need to drive there.”

“Whatever you say.”

Dakota followed behind me as we crossed the street to my classic nineteen sixty-nine Chevelle. All black and chromed out. By the time I placed my hand on the door handle to escort her inside, she had stumbled. The roofie was taking effect.

“Sorry about that, I lost my footing,” Dakota replied as she tried to regain her composure.

“It’s okay. The street is not level, could happen to anybody,” I lied to her. The street was perfectly level. She did not need to know that.

She slid into the passenger’s seat with ease, and I closed the door. I had to keep up the appearance of being a perfect gentleman when I was anything but. I was in the driver’s seat quicker than she could blink. I started the car and backed it out of my parking spot carefully. I put the car in gear and took her to the hotel.

Dakota was slipping in and out of consciousness. Which was good for me. The hotel I had planned to take her to was across the border in New Jersey. Lodi to be exact.

***

“Pardon me again. But how did you know where to take her?”

“I did my homework, if you will.”

“So, you had this planned before you came to New York?”

“No. About a month after I arrived, my urges were hounding me. Only I didn’t know what they were. Not until I got a good look at Forty-Second Street.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Christian said. He stood and got more coffee for himself.

“I didn’t either at the time. But let me finish this story and you will.”

Christian sat back at the table and waited for me to continue. “Where did I leave off? Ah yes, the hotel in Lodi.

“The hotel was a modest chain hotel that was about a half an hour away from Times Square. How did I know this? Something in the back of my mind told me to scout this place out. Call it intuition of my calling or whatever you want, but some dark force wanted me to do so. It was far enough away to not be noticed, yet close enough for me to escape.” I continued with my story:

Dakota continued to slip in and out of consciousness. When I reached the hotel, I grabbed the key to my room out of the glovebox. You see, I had been there earlier that day and secured the room before I even picked Dakota up in the bar. I helped her out of the car and escorted her to the room. As I was putting the key in the door, Dakota spoke for the first time in half an hour.

***

“Where are we?” her words still slurred from the roofie.

“We’re at the hotel, beautiful, as promised.”

“It don’t look familiar.”

“We’re in a different part of town, that’s why.”

She accepted my answer and nodded her head in acknowledgement. She stumbled in before me and made her way to the bed and plopped herself down as I closed and locked the door behind me.

“Can I get you something else to drink?” Forever the proper gentleman.

“Just some water. I’m dehydrated.”

I took a plastic cup from the sink in the bathroom and filled it with tepid water from the faucet. I carried it out to Dakota. She took it from my hand and began to sip on it.

“Better?” I asked with fake concern.

“Yes. I don’t know what came over me. I just got really tired suddenly.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty head. We have all night, sweetheart.”

“May I have some more water?”

“Sure.” I refilled her cup and put a few drops of the roofie drug inside. If she fell asleep, it would make my job a shit load easier.

Dakota drank the glass down fully. She placed it on the nightstand when she finished and sat speechless for a few minutes. I could see her head teeter ever so slightly. She was going down for the count.

“I’m sorry, do you mind if I take a quick nap? My head hurts.”

“Not at all, like I said, we have all night.”

Dakota removed the slinky red dress she was wearing. She had nothing on underneath. This could not get any better. I only had to worry about her shoes. Within moments she flopped back on the pillow and was out like a light.

***

“What happened next?” A wide-eyed Christian asked.

“I’m getting to that.”

“I hope this story has a happy ending,” Christian said out of nowhere.

“Happy for me anyway, I don’t think Dakota’s version would be considered as such.”

“What. Did. You. Do.”

I rang the bell for the servant to reappear. I had become so engrossed reliving my first tale of debauchery, it was now lunchtime. The coffee and pastries had been taken away. I asked for fixings for sandwiches with sodas to drink. Seeing as how Christian did not eat breakfast, maybe I would luck out and he would eat lunch.

I cleared my throat before I spoke. “Like I said, I am getting to that part. Patience young man.”

“Says the man who’s been alive forever… forgive me that was rude.”

“Maybe a tad, but accurate enough.”

“Why don’t you speak in front of the staff?”

“They know me for who I present to them, not for who I actually am.”

“Don’t you ever have encounters here?”

Something about his question made me wonder if he was looking for such a thing, or if he was just curious as a reporter.

“I have, but the staff is usually gone when I do.”

“Will you tell me about those as well?”

“Christian, you will be receiving my entire life on tape. Not just parts of it.”

“So, am I to extend my stay until it’s finished?”

“That is entirely up to you.”

“Well, if I want this to be accurate, I suppose I should. Will you excuse me? I need to make a quick phone call.”

I nodded my head, and he went into the foyer. He took his phone out of the right pocket of his sweatpants and dialed a number. He turned away from me when the party on the other end answered.

“I know I said only a few days, but this shit is golden. This could possibly be bigger than just an article…yes…I understand…I will check in in a few days…yes…thank you.”

I had no intention of eavesdropping on Christian’s conversation with his boss but the acoustics in the foyer echoed throughout the estate.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, everything’s good.”

As if on cue, my servant came with what I had requested. An assortment of breads, meats, cheeses, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and condiments were placed on the coffee table. The sodas were placed in an oversized silver bucket on ice. I thought the poor boy’s eyes would pop out of their sockets.

“Dig in, Christian. I know you’re hungry. Take what and as much as you want.”

“This is some spread. Great food, great house, comfortable beds. One could get used to this.”

There he went again, passing inuendo as if it were nothing. I refused to read too much into it. There was no way I would take on another houseguest. Not after the last one. She will be part of this story as well, and what a time it was. If he wanted a fling, so be it. Anything more than that would not be in the cards no matter how hard he tried if he even did.

When Christian took what he wanted, I made myself my favorite sandwich. Roast beef with Swiss. A little bit of mayo and lettuce. Simplicity at its finest. I grabbed a soda from the bucket, opened it, and placed it on the coaster that I kept on the end table to my right. My tables were made of solid oak, stained grey, and I hated water rings of any kind.

Christian noticed and grabbed a coaster of his own. The kid was observant, I gave him that much. I took a bite of my sandwich and asked where I had left off.

“Dakota had just fallen asleep.”

“Right. Ready?”

Christian started the recorder once more and I continued yet again:

***

Once Dakota had passed out, I went to work. I removed her clear, plastic wedge shoes she wore from her feet. I picked up her dress from the floor. I took the items into the bathroom and meticulously folded the dress and placed it in the bathtub, placing her shoes next to it. The shoes themselves were heavy and they fell over on their sides, I left them where they lay.

I crept back into the main room and removed her clutch from the nightstand, again taking it to the bathroom. I rifled through it.

After I found and removed her identification, Social Security card, and money, I put the purse above the neckline of her perfectly folded dress.

Knowing she would not wake for at least an hour or so, I took those items to my car and placed them in the glove box. I popped open the trunk and grabbed the items I needed for the night of fun we were about to have. Tape, a ball gag, and gloves. Hey, I did say I was a sexual sadist.

When I returned to the room, I quickly bound Dakota’s hands in front of her with the tape and placed the ball gag in her mouth. All I had to do was wait for her to awaken and the fun would begin.

As predicted, Dakota woke up an hour later. When she saw her hands bound with tape and felt something in her mouth, panic set it. She began to scream only to realize they were muffled. To me, it did not matter. Every sound she made was music to my ears.

“Are you ready for some fun, sweetheart?” I asked menacingly as I walked to the side of the bed closest to her.

Dakota’s eyes widened and tears started to spill from them. She shook her head vigorously back and forth pleading with me not to touch her.

“Well, that’s not going to happen, you are mine for the night and I will do with you what I want.”

Dakota screamed louder. She inhaled through her mouth causing her to choke.

“I need you to calm down, breathe through your nose.”

Dakota tried to comply, to no avail. She was crying harder causing mucus to drip from her nose and streams of saliva to come from her mouth. Not the most attractive of looks. In fact, it repulsed me. She tried to speak but it came out incoherently.

“Wha a oo oin oo du oo meh?”

“What am I going to do to you?” I asked for clarification through her mumbled words.

Dakota shook her head yes frantically, causing the spittle from her mouth to fall on her bare chest.

“Oh, sweetheart. I am going to use you like the whore that you are.”

All she could do was watch in horror as I removed my dress pants and dropped them next to me on the floor. I placed leather gloves on my hands. Leave no evidence. I moved to the end of the bed and grabbed her feet. She tried to kick me away but that only caused me to tighten my grip on them. I pulled her toward me and flipped her over in a hurry. She continued to kick.

“I swear to fucking God, if you do not stop kicking, I will break both of them!”

My sternness registered within Dakota’s mind and the kicking instantly stopped. I raised Dakota’s lower body, so she was on her knees. I lined myself up with her beaten and abused pussy and plunged into her dry. She screamed out in pain, but I did not care.

The more she screamed and cried the harder I thrusted. I was that turned on. To be in total control of someone while causing them pain was an aphrodisiac to me. She tried to pull herself away from me, so I grabbed her hips, digging my fingers into her clammy flesh to keep her steady. She was in for the pounding of her life.

After a few minutes, Dakota’s breathing had changed. She got herself so worked up her breathing became labored, she still tried to breathe through her mouth. At that point I did not try to tell her to breathe through her nose. I was in a euphoric state that I could not control. Her suffering was my high and I was not about to lose it.

I was close to coming so I wanted to seal the moment with something she would remember, at least temporarily. As my balls tightened, I leaned over her and bit her shoulder. The scream that came from her soul sealed my fate. I exploded into her immediately, still attached to her body. Blood from my bite trickled down her skin.

Once the spurts of my bodily fluid stopped, I removed my teeth from her flesh. I unfastened the ball gag and took it out of her mouth. I spoke to her after I did so.

“If you fucking make a noise, it goes back in.”

Dakota slightly nodded in acknowledgement. She was spent. I felt more alive than I had in years.

“What happens now? You know you’re forking over that entire bankroll, you sick fuck!”

All she had to do was keep her mouth shut. All she had to do was stay quiet and I would have let her go. But no, she had to defy me. She tried to take back the power I had briefly possessed.

Without saying another word, I flipped her over onto her back. I left briefly to get tissues out of the bathroom to clean her face. She had not moved from the bed out of fear.

I wiped the tear stains from her face, the mucus from under her nose and the saliva that had collected around her mouth. I tossed the tissue on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Give me my cash and let me go.”

“I’m sorry sweetheart. Your fun ends tonight.”

My hands went around her throat instantly. She could not fight me off with hers as they were still bound. She began kicking again so I straddled her to ease some of their force. I pressed harder into her skin. Pushing as hard as I could. I felt bones break. Her windpipe had been crushed. Within a few moments, her breaths became labored and shallow. I stayed on top of her until I saw the last glimmer of hope and light leave her eyes.

***

“Wait, you killed her?” Christian asked in disbelief.

“I did.”

“How did you not get caught?”

“I removed all evidence from the room. At least all the pertinent things.”

“Did you ever find out who she was? I mean really was?”

“I did. Her given name was Susie Sanford. I’m guessing she went by Dakota on the street because she hailed from South Dakota. I destroyed her identification. They never knew who she was when they found her.”

“Was that the only time you did something like that?”

“What? Kill someone? Have you forgotten I killed three in London all those years ago?”

Christian stared at me and said nothing. It was then I knew he would either stay and hear me out completely or leave and say fuck it, this story is not worth the time of day.

“Can we take a break? This is a lot to process.”

“Absolutely. It’s about time for my afternoon walk anyway.”

“Are you leaving?”

“No, I walk through the gardens in the back. Relaxes me some.”

“Okay, we will continue when you return.”

I stood from the sofa and went to the eight-foot French doors that led to the gardens. I left them open to allow fresh air into the house. As I walked the path around the topiaries, I concluded that there was no way in bloody hell that this boy was ready for the rest of my story. No person in their right mind would be ready for a story like mine. As much as I wanted to tell it, needed to tell it, I pondered whether I should finish it. There was still so much to it.

I would propose the dilemma I was facing to Christian once I returned.

I spent more time than I intended out in the garden… my mind preoccupied as to whether my young friend could handle the cold, hard truth about me. I never really gave a shit as to what people thought about me, at least not when they said things behind my back. When they said that shit to my face, that changed things.

The sun had set, and the night sky illuminated with stars. I finally walked back in through the French doors, to find Christian sorting his notes, trying to make heads or tails of my story thus far. As soon as he felt my presence, he looked up.

“Hey. I thought you might have had second thoughts.”

“What if I am?” I asked as I walked to the bar to fill a crystal glass with whiskey.

“You can’t be serious right now! This shit is the bomb!! People will eat this shit up!!”

I let out a breath I did not know I was holding before I turned to my temporary houseguest.

“This shit you speak of, is my life. And it isn’t very pleasant.”

“Let me and your soon to be fans be the judge of that.”

Without saying a word, I moved back to my recent favorite spot in the house. My trusted couch. I situated myself in the corner once again and waited for Christian to ask me more questions.

“So, we left off with the killing of Dakota. What happened next?”

When I left Dakota’s lifeless body in the hotel, I headed straight back to Times Square. The scum in the cesspool of debauchery was out to play and play they did. Every night was a free-for-all. I went straight to my apartment. I had had enough excitement for one evening. I had just taken a life for the pure joy of it.

As soon as I entered my humble dwelling, I took the identification cards of Dakota and placed them in a small metal box and locked it up tight. I placed it in the bottom of my closet, putting the few hundred dollars she had in her purse inside a separate duffle bag. I turned to my left and my soul keeper stared back at me with a wicked smirk. He approved of what I had done, and he wanted me to continue down the path I was on.

“The soul keeper being your painting?”

“Yes, one in the same.”

***

Over the course of the next few days, I stalked and scouted my prey like a wolf on the hunt. The itch had been placed and it continuously needed scratching. I had to pace myself. I could not just kill every single night, that would have given me away. No, I had to be precise in my actions. Every movement, every interaction and reaction were paramount. If I came off too needy the girls would walk away. If I came off too forceful the cops would come, give me a warning, and send me on my way.

There was a double standard for sex workers back then. Crimes were committed against them every single day in New York, but most were never investigated. The police would arrest them over and over for solicitation. If they went to talk to them about any crime committed against their person, their pimps would retaliate. Sometimes the retaliation was worse than a night in jail. These girls could not win no matter which direction they turned. It made my playground all that sweeter. The news headlines started to appear the day after the incident. “Girl found dead in Hotel Room.” “Unidentified woman found slain.” Articles in the papers said the crime scene was meticulous. Not a shred of evidence to help with the investigation.

I had hit the jackpot with that first kill. It was time to expand and see exactly what it was I could get away with. The narcissist in me said I could get away with everything. I had to test that theory.

A week after Dakota met her demise, I went back to Aphrodite’s and saw who was to be my next prey. She was a tall, statuesque woman. If I had to guess she could have been in her thirties. Long, flowing black hair. She wore the same clear wedge type shoes as Dakota. She was dressed in short shorts that showed off her lean, long legs. She had a sheer blue peasant top on.

One glance and she did not look like a sex worker. The only thing that gave her away were the fucking shoes.

Anyway, she noticed me the same time I noticed her. She sauntered over to me and sat down in the seat next to me. I motioned to the bartender and ordered my usual. Absinthe. My newfound companion was intrigued.

“I haven’t ever had that. What’s it taste like?”

“Licorice.”

“How can something green be licorice?”

“Don’t believe me?”

She raised an eyebrow as if to challenge me. I ordered her one as well. She watched in disbelief as the sugar cubes were dissolved over the melon green elixir. She picked up the glass and placed it to her lips. The sound that came from her throat was heaven. It was a raspy growl that came out of sheer pleasure. My dick got hard.

“This is the most wonderful thing I have ever had.”

“I’m glad you like it. So, if you don’t mind me asking. What do you do for a living?”

“I’m here to show you a good time, is what I do for a living.”

She was a straightforward, brazen one. Not like Dakota. They were night and day.

“Do you have a name?”

“You can call me Lilith.”

I almost laughed out loud. In earlier times, Lilith was known as the mother of all evil. I could not help but wonder if she was as well. I let the thought pass as quickly as it entered my mind. No matter what evil this woman dished out, I could match her tenfold.

“Okay, Lilith. Want to go somewhere quieter?”

She moved in closer to me. She had almost slid off the bar stool and into my lap. I grabbed her arms to keep her upright, careful not to touch her skin. Her face was inches from mine. Her glossed pink lips turned up at the left corner.

“Wouldn’t you like to go in one of the back rooms?”

“Not really. Not in the mood for a crowd this evening.”

The back rooms in Aphrodite’s were supposed to be completely private. I learned later that they each held hidden cameras that would show patrons what was going on, for a price of course. Voyeurism at its finest.

“Let me go to the ladies’ room and then we can go wherever you want.”

“Okay, I’ll be here. Waiting.”

Lilith walked to the restroom that was in the far-right corner of the building. When she rounded the corner, out of my line of sight, I slipped the roofie into the remainder of her drink. I suspected she was already feeling numb from what she had ingested so this would not take long at all.

***

“How did you not get caught slipping them the mickey?” Christian asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Excuse me? What did you ask?”

“How did you not get caught slipping them the roofies?”

“Oh, I had it in a small bottle in my jacket pocket. There was a tube attached to it with a pump. I would place my hand over the top of the glass. As I did that motion, the tube would emerge out of the sleeve of my shirt. I would squeeze the pump and the liquid would dispense. When finished, I removed my hand and the tube retracted back into my shirt.”

“So, was it secured to your arm?”

“With a rubber band.”

“When did you remove it from your body?”

“When the girls would pass out and I went to my car.”

Christian nodded with acceptance. “Continue.”

***

Lilith emerged in record time. She stood next to me and smirked when she saw the bank roll come out of my breast pocket. They always loved the sight of cash. I placed the amount of the tab and another hefty tip on the bar.

“You going to finish your drink? It would be a shame to waste such an illicit concoction.”

Absinthe is not a drink that can be “chugged” for lack of a better term. It must be sipped and savored. Having not instructed Lilith on the proper drinking etiquette, she finished it in one swallow.

“Wow, that’s got a kick.”

“I should have told you it is made for sipping, not gulping. It matters not, let’s get out of here.”

I placed the gloves back on my hands. Lilith did not question what they were for, she simply folded her arm around mine and had me escort her out.

The mixture of the roofie, the alcohol and the cool night air hit her at once and she stumbled. I caught her before her face hit the pavement.

“Woah, there. Seems the alcohol got to you.”

“Must have, that was some strong shit.”

“Not to worry. Let’s get you to the car and to the hotel. You can sleep it off if you need to.”

“But what about our arrangement?”

There it was, she had a job to do. She had a pimp somewhere to answer to, or so I thought.

“The arrangement still stands. Do you need to check in with someone?”

“No, I’m freelance. Only me.” This was too good to be true. I could keep her for a couple of days and see what she was made of.

“So, I could keep you for a few days?”

“You have me until Sunday morning. I have to get back to New Jersey for my day job.” After Lilith uttered those words, she was out cold. I managed to place her in the car without incident. She hit her head on the roof of the car when I placed her in the passenger’s seat but that was the least of her worries.

I removed my suit jacket and the roofie device from my body, opened the trunk and tossed them in. I took a quick glance at the items I had packed for the festivities, to make sure I had everything. Tape, ball gag (I had replaced the one used for Dakota), letter opener, plastic, axe. Yep, it was all there. My growing hunger would be sated in ways I never thought possible.

***

“So, you traveled with what they call a stalker kit?”

“It was a little more than that, but yes. No one ever looked in the trunk of my car. You must remember, profiling a person did not come about for a few more years, so I was safe. I hunted in the past, the only thing that would have been out of place was the ball gag.”

“That was one hell of a risk.”

“The higher the risk, the bigger the reward.”

I did not bother to wait for Christian to reply to what I had just said, instead I jumped back into the events of that night.

We arrived at the same hotel in Lodi that I had taken Dakota. The pleasantries were different because Lilith was still passed out. I carried her to the room and placed her on the bed. I ran back out and grabbed my toys from the truck.

I wasted no time in getting her undressed. Her shorts were too tight for me to remove so I cut them off her body. I slipped the peasant top over her head, took off her bra and underwear and neatly folded them as I had with Dakota and placed them in the bathtub. I removed all forms of identification and money she had and stuffed them in the front pocket of my slacks. I removed her shoes and placed them, along with her purse, next to her clothes. The gag went into her mouth next. This time however, instead of binding her hands in front of her, I bound each hand to the headboard above her head.

I tented the room with the plastic I had acquired from a local hardware store in New Jersey earlier in the week.

I looked over at Christian and all the color had drained from his face.

“Are you sure you want to hear about all of this?”

“Ye…yes. It just sounds like something out of a horror movie, is all.”

“And that scares you?”

“Yes! It scares the shit out of me. How do I know you won’t do the same thing to me?”

“Because I trust you.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“If I didn’t trust you, you would have been dead the night you arrived. After the help had gone home, of course.”

A nervous laugh left his lips. The more he was in my company the more uncomfortable he became. I suppose I would have too if the roles had been reversed. I mean, who really wants to get inside the mind of a serial killer, let alone stay in their house?

“Well, okay then. One rule, no killing of me, ever. You want this story to be told, that is the one promise you must make me.”

“I promise, nothing will happen to you here. You have my word. Without my word, I am nothing.”

The truth was, I would outlive the boy. Just like all the others I had come to know and grew fond of over the years. Killing him would be unfair. He had potential. I wanted to see him live a full and prosperous life, however long it may be.

I looked at the clock on the wall and realized all my servants had gone home for the day and we had forgotten about dinner. I pulled the phone from the drawer in the end table to my right and placed a call to a local pizza joint.

“What do you like on your pizza?”

“I’m simple, pepperoni.”

I ordered two large pies. The worker on the other end of the call informed me they would be delivered within half an hour, which was fine by me. I needed a small break. The next part of my encounter with Lilith was gruesome to say the least.

I would be lucky if Christian held down the contents of his stomach by the time I was through.

My young companion and I had finished our meal. I had to hand it to the kid; he took this assignment on with a passion I had not seen in someone in a very long time. The part that I was about to tell him would make or break him. The night my savagery elevated itself on its own and catapulted me into a new lust without guilt. The lust for death. My surroundings handed my prey to me on a silver platter. The cesspool was so big, no one would miss a few fish.

“How whacked out is this next part going to be?”

“What do you mean?”

“Let me rephrase… how detailed will this next part be?”

“As detailed as the rest. Maybe more so. I hope you have a strong stomach. For this next part will define who I was for an extended amount of time.”

I could see the color in Christian’s face. It drained then went to a green tint if it were possible. I was about to ask him if he wished to step out of the room and leave the recorder on so he would not have to hear it, but he would have to play it back anyway to get the story accurate.

“Okay, let’s do this. Rip the Band Aid off if you will.”

“This will be where we leave off for the day as well. All this retelling has left me a bit tired.”

“All right, please continue.”

***

I patiently waited for Lilith to awaken. She started to stir about an hour and a half after I had taken her from Aphrodite’s. She tried to stretch her arms, only to realize I had restrained them. She started to mumble but of course the gag was placed in her mouth. At least she knew how to breathe with it. She did not panic. I thought it odd at first, then I realized she must have been used to some kinky shit hanging out at that sex palace.

I stood from the chair I had been sitting in. I was interested in what she had to say. I walked over to her and took the gag out and rested it on her chin for a few moments.

“So, you’re into kink?”

“Oh, my dear, you have no idea.”

“That will cost you extra.”

I did not respond to her. I simply nodded my head. For shits and giggles, I placed the gag back in her mouth, stared at her perfectly round left breast, lowered my head and bit down as hard as I could. Her screams of pain only caused me to bite her harder. When I felt the skin break, I backed off. I looked at her once more. Though tears of pain streamed down her face, she held her composure. Feeling challenged, I could not help myself. I walked to the other side of the bed and did the exact same thing to her right breast. Her initial screams of pain subsided after I unlatched myself from her bosom. She started to breathe heavier, so I popped out the gag once more and set it on her chin.

“You sadist fuck!! I demand that you untie me at once! Let me out of here!”

I walked back over to the chair I previously sat on and said nothing. I wanted her to wonder. I wanted her to fear… ultimately, I wanted her to beg.

“First of all, you agreed to come with me. Secondly, I have you for a few days. Thirdly, I can do with you what I want, and that’s what I intend to do.”

“Look, just because I agreed does not mean you can treat me like a piece of meat, you son of a bitch! I am human like everyone else trying to make a living!”

Blah. Blah. Blah. I quickly became sick of her noise. I rushed towards her and shoved the gag back in her mouth. I was having no more of her incessant bullshit. Nag, nag, nag.

I often heard that the reason men went to sex workers was because you could do things with them that you could not do with a spouse. Given my first experience with Dakota, the adage proved itself true. I was far from done with Lilith.

***

“Was there sex involved with her?”

I had to laugh at what Christian asked. There was always sex involved. Forced or not.

“Yes, always.”

Christian nodded his head and motioned for me to continue.

***

I waited twenty minutes until I made my next move, all the while Lilith was pleading with me with her eyes for me to let her go. I grabbed my duffle bag off the floor and set it on the side table. I opened it up and started searching for my next implementation of pain. It took a few minutes, but I produced the letter opener. It had shifted to the bottom of the bag.

I turned to her with it in my hand and unsheathed. Her eyes bulged and the tears flowed harder.

“This knife will be your friend, or your enemy, depending on how you behave.”

Lilith immediately pressed her legs together. I was ready to enter her. The sheer thrill of what was about to happen had me rock hard. I stripped out of my clothing. I stood stark naked in front of her. She turned her head, shielding her eyes the best she could with her left arm. She had no desire to look at me. All the better.

“Open your legs.”

No response was uttered from Lilith’s lips.

“I said, open your fucking legs!” To emphasize my point, I poked her with the implement. She immediately did as I asked. I wanted to hear all her glorious noises, so I removed the gag entirely. I smiled a wicked smile before I entered her. She begged me to stop. I thrusted harder. What she did not know was the more she begged the more turned on I became.

In an act of defiance, Lilith turned her head and spat in my face. I laughed at her attempt to fend me off. I took the opener and sliced down her left breast. Thin cuts always hurt the worst. They were like paper cuts but amplified. I then held the knife to her throat.

The harder I thrusted into her, the knife would break her skin, causing her to bleed. Knife play was fast becoming one of my favorite kinks. Before I nutted inside of her, I stood and shoved my cock into her mouth. She instantly began to gag. There was something to be said for restricting someone’s air flow with something that was supposed to be pleasurable.

I grabbed a fistful of hair from the back of Lilith’s head, pulling her down harder onto my rock-hard cock. She tried to breathe the best she could, but I began fucking her mouth like a wild man. The sensation and control were just too satisfying. She had a perpetual look of fear in her eyes and that drove me more.

I had gagged her so hard with my cock that when I released my load into her mouth she promptly passed out. I let go of her hair after easing myself out of her and her head fell back, hitting the headboard.

I had worked up an appetite. I ordered food from the café that was in the hotel and had someone leave it outside the door. No one needed to see who I was, and I sure as shit could not have them come into the room.

I woke Lilith up. My method was a little unconventional. I took the letter opener and poked all over her body with it, leaving wounds that bled. They were only an eighth of an inch in diameter but enough of them would cause serious bruising and pain. After all, that is what sadists are known for, right? Causing pain?

When Lilith finally woke, I brought the tray of food over to her and sat on the edge of the bed.

“You must be hungry.”

“I’m not.”

“Come on. When’s the last time you ate?”

“I guess it was yesterday morning.”

The sun had risen, and it was now a Saturday. I had one more day with my toy and I intended to use it to my full advantage. I picked up a piece of toast from the tray and began to force feed her, giving her no choice in the matter.

“I admire the fact that you have moxie, but eating is a priority. And before you ask, no, it’s not poisoned. I kind of want to keep you around a while.”

Okay, so it was a half lie I told. While Lilith had been passed out, I moved my duffle bag to the foot of the bed. She had no idea what was going to happen next, but she would soon find out. I released one of her arms so she could eat. Once she finished the food off the plate which she took from me willingly after my force-feeding attempt, she asked for more.

I denied her request, telling her I would feed her again the next day. I waited for Lilith to compose herself before I continued with her. A few minutes later I untied her completely, flipped her over on her stomach and taped her arms outward from her sides, securing her to the bed frame. I did the same with her legs. I rubbed my gloved hands up and down her entire body, slicing into the blank canvas staring back at me. Cuts, one to two inches long and a small distance apart. Close enough to heal but painful, nonetheless found their home all over her back, in clusters. She screamed and writhed under me.

She had been with me for less than a day and I was already growing bored with her. She quit putting up the fight I so desperately needed from her. The bed she was sprawled on was a California King, plenty of room for my end game.

I reached into my duffle and unrolled more of the plastic I had brought. I cut two pieces off and brought the tape back out. I walked over to Lilith’s right hand, encased it in the plastic and taped it just above the wrist joint. I went to the other side of the bed and did the same to her left.

Panic entered the mind and eyes of Lilith. She began to squirm, or at least attempted to, and scream.

“What the fuck are you doing? I thought you were letting me go!”

“Did I ever say that? I recall telling you I wanted to keep you a little longer. I never said anything about letting you go.”

The reality of her circumstance kicked in full force and her screams became deafening. I jammed the gag back in her mouth and buckled it tighter than normal around the back of her head. I did not care if she was comfortable anymore, I had a job to finish.

The axe emerged a few short moments later. Lilith would die that evening, and I would leave no trace of who she was except the clothes she wore. I went to her right arm first as it would be the more difficult of the two. Since every sex worker was probably in the “system” at the police stations across town I had to take whatever evidence there was and get rid of it.

Fingerprints and facial recognition would be my downfall in the early stages of the game. I could not let that happen. I took the axe and carefully ran it between the wrist joint, creating a guide if you will.

***

“How did you become so precise? This was only your second kill.”

“I will explain more of that in a minute.”

***

Finding where the blade needed to hit for a clean cut, my mark was made and I swung the axe with everything I had, hitting my target. Lilith’s right hand had been detached. Whatever blood was to seep out would be from her arm and it would be absorbed by the mattress. With a spring in my step, I did the same thing to her left hand, creating the same result. Fingerprints alleviated.

I stopped and sat in the chair once again, leaving a screaming Lilith on the bed. How to pull off the next part needed some careful consideration. I scanned the room to ensure I had covered every conceivable place that could possibly retain blood splatter with plastic. Beheading a person is not an easy feat, even for the experienced. Precision is the key, and I sure as fuck did not do anything half-assed.

Lilith stopped making any kind of noise whatsoever. I took that as a sign that she had passed out from the pain of losing both her hands. All the better for me. She would be relaxed and taking her head would be easy.

I looked at the clock in the room. The time was just past noon. Lilith had been with me for just shy of seventeen hours. I did not want to waste any more time. I was done and so was Lilith. I untapped her arms and placed them next to her body. I went to the left side of the bed. Her head was facing towards the door. I moved it slightly to get just the right angle I needed. Two forceful swings of the axe and her head detached itself from her body. Job complete.

I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up the best I could of the blood splatter on my face and dressed myself. Once complete, I wrapped Lilith’s head in plastic as well and taped it securely. I placed her head and hands in a trash bag and immediately took them to my car, placing them in the trunk. Next, I took down all the plastic I had placed in the room.

I had not noticed before but upon one final sweep of the room, I saw the necklace Lilith had been wearing. I slid it off the stump of her neck. It was a jade pendant on a sturdy gold chain. I placed it in the front pocket of the duffle bag along with my gloves. The sheets of plastic were also put inside another garbage bag. I picked both bags up from the floor. I left the hotel carefully so no one would see me and drove back to Times Square.

***

“How did you get rid of the body parts?” Christian asked immediately.

“I would dispose of them in random places. Sometimes in aqueducts, sometimes in the river, sometimes I would burn them in a barrel in the middle of nowhere in the countryside. It all depended on my mood when the job was completed.”

“And you did all of this by yourself?”

“In the beginning. You will soon learn that I eventually had a partner of sorts.”

“Okay so, back to the precision question.”

“Ah that. Well, you see when I was in London, I befriended a man named Victor Frankenstein.”

“Wait, like Frankenstein’s monster, Frankenstein?”

“One in the same.”

“You have got to be shitting me! I thought he was something of folklore.”

“Rest assured, he is not. He had a morphine addiction back then.”

Christian started typing something on his laptop. He started to scroll through some pages before he spoke.

“So, what of Dr. Frank Stein now? The medical examiner?”

“From the same family, Victor was his great, great, great, great grandfather.”

“Holy shitballs!”

“I will tell you more about the new medical examiner later. As for precision, I learned quite a bit from Victor. He was an eccentric fellow. Always fantasizing about life after death and the like. He showed me all the key points of anatomy. It helped me.”

“Okay, let’s wrap it up for tonight. You look exhausted. And I could use some sleep too. Continue tomorrow?”

“Yes, bright and early.”

I waited for Christian to ascend the stairs to his room before I moved from the couch. When he was out of sight, I headed into the room I needed to visit, if not for peace of mind, but for a recharge. I opened the door and walked down a small hallway. The room was airtight and made of the finest white Italian marble. Once I heard the door latch behind me, I sat in the chair I had placed in front of my portrait.

My soul had seen better days. Now, it looked like nothing but a crazed animal chained to a wall. Its withered face looked back at me with no visible emotions. It was neither pleased nor displeased. Maybe it was as tired as I was becoming. The thought of immortality is great upon fruition; however, it is a very long and lonely existence.

I would have to explain all of this to Christian in future days. He would inevitably place another call to his editor asking for another extension. My story was too vast to be told in a week’s time. I knew how this would play out; some people were just too predictable.

I stayed in my sanctuary a few moments longer. When no reaction came from my true self, I left the room and headed upstairs to my master suite. I disrobed and left my clothes where they landed. The servants could clean it up later.

I slid into my bed with Egyptian cotton sheets and before I knew it, I was sleeping like a baby.

Morning was upon us once again. I stared at the ceiling in my sleeping quarters and pondered where to take my story next. Christian would inevitably know everything about me, but I had to be careful with event placement. I could not jump too far ahead, but I could not give every specific detail either. It would bore the crap out of the boy. The details I chose to leave out, he could later Google and find out for himself, or he could confirm that what, in fact, I was telling him was true. Either way he would be satisfied, and so would I.

Today was a Saturday and my staff would not be present for the weekend. Most had families so I always gave them the weekends off so they could spend time together. I was not as much of a selfish prick as some had claimed I was in the past. Sure, I manipulated people into doing what I wanted, but I also knew the importance of family. Strange as it was, since I really had nothing of one to speak of.

I padded down the stairs after dressing in the most comfortable clothing I could find. I was used to wearing suits, but I opted for sweatpants. Gray in color and a tank top. I placed the silver rings, I always wore, on my fingers. One on my right hand, and four on my left hand with two on my index finger. I had worn them since I achieved status in London. It was a hard habit to break. Each one unique and each held a purpose for being. All gothic-looking in nature, again little oddities in which I relished.

I made my way down the stairs only to find Christian had awoken before me. He took some liberties in my kitchen it appeared. I cleared my throat to make him aware of my presence.

“Good morning, Dorian… er, I hope you don’t mind. I took the liberty and made some breakfast.”

“That’s positively wonderful. It smells good. What are we having?”

Under normal circumstances I would have been outraged if someone explored my house without my permission. But Christian had a job to do, yes? And that job was to get to know me completely. I let the trivial matter go. For now.

“I made omelets with ham and cheese. There’s orange juice, coffee, and toast. I wasn’t sure what you liked so I made both white and wheat.”

Christian had all the breakfast items on the serving cart and had it placed in the designated “interview area”. We loaded plates. He took his after I took mine and settled into what became our comfortable spots. As I sipped on my coffee, I asked a question.

“Is there anything else you would like to know about me before we get into the heavy stuff?”

“Well, I suppose I could ask the cliché question of what you like to do?”

I took a bite of my omelet before I answered.

“Ah, well. I am a very complex yet simple man. If that makes sense.”

“It does. Go on.”

“I love the theatre. I catch Broadway shows whenever I can. I am very much interested in botany. And my favorite spirit of all time is absinthe.”

“I gathered that much from the accounts of your first two victims. Why not now?”

“Why not now, what?”

“Why are you not drinking it now?”

“Simple. I have no desire to kill anyone. And it’s too early in the morning.”

“Did all of the killings happen with victims from Times Square?”

“I will get to that in a moment. Let’s finish breakfast first.”

I figured Christian would have inhaled his meal just to get back to the story he so desperately wanted to tell, but instead, he took his time. He probably wanted me to think about what I was going to tell him next. The truth was, after the last victim I spoke of, I stayed semi-dormant. I was in the process of recruiting a partner, and someone else stole my thunder, so to speak.

When Christian was satisfied from his morning meal, we resumed the interview.

“Okay, so we have just finished with Lilith, what happened next?”

“I met a man who would become my partner.”

***

My urge to kill had been fulfilled, temporarily. My “soulmate”, for lack of a better term gave no inclination as to wanting more abuse, so I continued to frequent Aphrodite’s as much as possible for the social aspect of it. Most of the time I drank alone. There were no new faces frequenting the joint, and the ones there were not piquing my interest.

One evening, a gentleman walked into the establishment. He looked nervous and out of place. He sat next to me at the bar and ordered a whiskey, neat.

“Interesting place,” he said in passing.

“First time here?”

“No, you?”

“Not at all.”

Through our conversation, if you want to call it that, I found out that his name was Richard Dickman. Yes, that was his real name, and whomever his parents were to name him that gave that man a complex from the day he was born.

Observing his body language, he appeared to want something more. Something carnal. Something savage.

“Ever been with one of these women?” I asked. as I sipped my drink.

“Absolutely not! I’m a married man!”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“I love my wife.”

“Then why are you here?”

Richard had no answer for me. Deep down, he knew why he was here. He wanted to experience things that his wife would not allow him to do with her.

“Not to change the subject… what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a computer specialist. I work night shift.”

“Shouldn’t you be working now?”

“Nah, it’s pretty slow at night. Hence the reason I came. I could be absent my whole shift and go back and clock out and they would never know.”

That started the wheels turning in my head. This became way too easy. I just had to wait. There would inevitably be another kill. Just not this night. I needed to study my accomplice. And that is exactly what I did.

I watched as Richard drank like a fish, became boisterous and abruptly walked out of the bar when he finished. I presumed it was to go clock out from his shift. The time on the clock said one forty-five am. His shift ended at two, at least that is what I concluded.

“He sounds boring. Why would you associate yourself with him?”

“It was all part of my end game, Christian. You will soon find out.”

A few weeks had passed. It was the middle of summer in the year of nineteen seventy and the scantily clad sex workers became even more so. They no longer left anything to the imagination as the temperatures rose along with the humidity.

Richard and I had been meeting at Aphrodite’s religiously on Friday nights. The shift he worked was, in fact, from six pm to two am, Monday through Friday; weekends off. It was time to break him in.

We sat in our usual spots at the bar. Some young, fresh meat entered the bar. Richard cat called to them as soon as they walked past us, being the pompous drunk that he had become. I leaned in next to him.

“Want to have some fun?”

“Like what?”

“With one or both of them, your preference.”

“How about one for each?” Richard laughed hard at his own statement. The man was too much for me at times and he would eventually learn a lesson he would never forget.

My trunk of toys had increased to heavier items. I kept the letter opener and the axe, but I graduated to rope, floggers, brass knuckles, wooden paddles. Yes, the urge had been growing, and growing steadily.

I excused myself and headed to the restroom. That was when I made my move. I passed the two young girls that had entered earlier. One was a blonde and the other brunette. As I walked by, I stopped momentarily and whispered in the blonde’s ear.

“You see that portly gentleman sitting alone at the bar? Go join him, I will be right back.”

I pulled the bank roll from my breast pocket luring them to do so. Without a word, the girls turned and headed in Richard’s direction. Money was the root of all evil, especially mine.

When I returned from the restroom, the brunette was all over Richard. The blonde seemed to be waiting for me. I noticed they had yet to be served alcohol.

“Richard, what is wrong with you?” I had caught him off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“Why have you not asked these young ladies what they wished to drink?”

“I am so sorry! Forgive my absentmindedness. Would you ladies care for something?”

They both ordered beers and settled in, and the one who waited for me appeared more comfortable. I forewent asking their names. This night held a different outcome, in my mind anyway. Whether Richard was game did not matter. I had plans for him as well.

An hour later, which was far too long for my liking, the girls excused themselves. They rudely told us both they had to use the facilities. When they were gone, I did my usual set up. I walked to the other side of Richard, placed my hand over the brunette’s glass and shot in the roofie. So Richard would not notice, I laid into him.

“You talk too damn much, you know that?”

As I walked to the other side of him, I did the same with the blonde’s glass. Mission accomplished. Richard spewed on and on about how this was what happens when you are trying to get to know someone, blah, blah, fucking blah.

***

“I’m guessing things did not go according to plan?”

“Oh, they did, sort of.”

“Sort of?”

***

Once the roofies took effect, I changed tactics. Instead of making the drive to Lodi, I stayed local. There was no way in hell Richard would make it. He was just as bad as the girls on his own accord. He had drunk himself into the usual fall on his face stupor as the previous evenings we met.

I had strategically parked my car in front of the Times Square Hotel. It was a few blocks down on the opposite side of the street from Aphrodite’s. I had secured a room on the top floor earlier that evening before heading over. When I got my drunken companions into the elevator, I pushed the button to take us to the top floor. My bag of toys had been placed in the closet already and the “Do Not Disturb” sign hung from the knob on the outside of the door.

I unlocked the door and the three of them poured themselves into their newfound home. At least it would be for the next few hours. After the girls situated themselves on the foot of the bed, I, once again, changed tactics. I wanted this over as quickly as humanly possible.

“Ladies, would you mind taking a shower before we start?”

The two spoke very little but shucked their clothes off and went to the shower together. Richard had plopped himself in an oversized chair that was next to the window and looked as if he were about to pass out. Fucking figured. The night I needed him, he fell short. With his balding head and thick mustache that was in bad need of a trim, I could see why.

His wife was probably not as attracted to him anymore and the only way he could find pleasure was with the sex workers in the depths of hell. They were not picky if you had money. I never understood why the profession was not legalized. It was the oldest profession in the book. Maybe it was because throughout time, the ladies became more obvious.

In the eighteen hundreds, it was a little more discreet. At least in England it was, anyway. At least I thought it to be. The biggest things we had back then were the opium houses in China Town.

***

“Wait, you had a China Town? In England?”

“Yes, I believe we may have been the first to have places of that nature. London embraced many nationalities, much like the Americas did. China Town was the most popular for obvious reasons.”

“So, much like Fentanyl today, Opium was the drug of choice?” Christian asked.

“That and morphine, yes.”

“Did you ever partake?”

“I partook in other guilty pleasures then.”

“Like what?”

“Orgies, voyeurism, things of that nature. Not widely accepted back in those days.”

“Where did those happen?”

“In my home. Whatever happened behind my doors stayed behind them. And those involved knew never to speak of such ‘atrocities’ for fear of their reputations being tarnished.”

“Any one of importance?”

I thought of the museum curator that frequented my parties. He was much like Richard. Overweight, mustache and full beard, badly dyed blonde hair. He was married by society’s standards, but he was anything but heterosexual. He was as gay as gay could be. I never thought less of him for being the way he was. He was a very interesting man and held my utmost respect. I always said, you cannot help who you fall in love with. The same goes for attraction.

“It does not matter now. All I will say is this man had an arrangement with his wife. They lived separate lives for the most part and only made appearances together when social functions called for it.”

“Are you saying the man was homosexual?”

“I am.”

“Are you? Um… sorry, that’s none of my business.”

Part of me wondered why Christian asked the question. Was it out of genuine curiosity or was it because he wanted to paint the overall picture of me? Yes, the pun was intended with that thought.

“It’s fine, Christian. Don’t be afraid to ask me things. I will let you know if I chose not to answer a question.”

Who was I kidding? I am a malignant, narcissistic asshole. Of course, I would tell him everything he wanted to know.

“I am, and always was, what you would consider pansexual by today’s standards. I don’t see the sex of a person. Whomever I am attracted to is who he or she is. I do not discriminate.”

“So, you’ve had sex with both men and women?”

“Yes.”

“At the same time?”

“Yes. But that encounter may be explained later as well.”

“Tease.”

I laughed hard at his comment.

“We have a lot to get through. I don’t want to jump ahead of myself.”

“Okay, I guess that would be best. So, continue with the rest of the story from the Times Square Hotel.”

Pulling myself back into that space in my mind, I continued as if we had no interruptions.

***

The girls had come out of the shower, stark naked. Modesty was not their strong suit. But I never expected it to be. The blonde wasted no time in telling me she wanted me to fuck her first. She and her friend had other appointments to keep that evening. Pre-planned if you will.

Well shit! She moved a little faster than I liked but only I knew how the night would end. I motioned to the brunette to keep Richard company. Anything to keep him awake even for a little while. She walked over to him, unzipped his pants, and began to stroke his cock which was as flaccid as a wilted flower. More power to her if she could get any type of result.

My partner, as it were, wasted no time. She practically ripped the clothes off my body. Luckily for her, the thrill of just being in the situation had my cock hard and ready for her. She grabbed me forcefully and inserted my shaft into her lukewarm pussy. It was a turn off for sure. I would have preferred her to be hotter than she was, but her body temperature dictated otherwise.

The girl was a waif of a thing. She looked like she was skin over bones. The streets had not been kind to her. She was most definitely not my type, but it mattered not. I fucked her hard and fast. She would have bruises between her legs for days, well forever in this case. After I shot my wad into her cunt, my limp dick fell from her. She tried to suck me off immediately after, but I was having no part of it. That specific fetish only happened if I asked for it.

She was insistent, but I fended her off the only way I could. I grabbed either side of her face with my hands and twisted her head to the right, instantly breaking her neck. She did not utter a sound. Her girlfriend would never know the difference. I placed the blonde on one side of the bed on her back. I closed her eyes with tissues from the nightstand and made it look like she was sleeping.

The brunette was having no luck with Richard whatsoever. Again, a detail that did not matter. By the time he woke up, he would not remember what he did. Not that he would actually do anything until after the fact but that was a moot point, for now.

I walked over and pulled the brunette off Richard’s lap by her hair and pushed her hard to the door of the hotel room. She caught herself with her hands before her nose made contact. Smart girl.

When she turned around to look at me, I pinned her right arm against the door and moved in closer to her face. I could smell the lingering alcohol on her breath and grinned when she tried to get her eyes to focus on my face.

I reached up with my other hand and placed it on her cheek softly, then dug my fingers down the length of her jawline. I chuckled at the attempted struggle she tried to yield. But the only thing that mattered to me at that moment was her body and what I would do to it. She threw drunken curses at me which I ignored.

My hand tightened around her neck as I forced her against the door, eventually sliding her down to her knees. There would be no foreplay, there would be no enjoyment, no fun… at least not for her. She attempted to grab my cock but managed to slap the inside of my thigh instead. I was not sure if she was going to try and get me off or was fending me off. It did not matter. I grabbed her jaw hard and tight with my right hand forcing her mouth open.

Before she could protest, I roughly inserted myself into the opening I had created. I felt her teeth grate on the top and bottom of my cock and I must admit, it brought me a small amount of pleasure, but the fact that she was using her tongue to try to push my cock out of her mouth gave me the most excitement.

The futile attempts she made to try to expel me only served to cause me to plunge deeper into her mouth. I pulled out and a bit of drool dripped from my cock. It stuck to her lips and swung like a pendulum down her insufficiently sized tits. The drool eventually slid between the two of them. As I pushed back into her mouth, a small swishing noise could be heard as the air in her mouth was replaced by me. The farther I went in the more resistance I felt. I wondered at that moment if I could kill her just by fucking her face.

I made sure from there on out that every thrust I took hit the back of her throat. I became bored rather quickly as I was not satisfied with the outcome. With the next thrust, I forcibly held her head and pushed my cock as far as it would go, breaking her barrier. The feeling was exquisite, warm and the tightness was unbelievable. I loved seeing her chest heave when my cock went down her throat. Combined with her gagging I was on the verge.

I grabbed her head with both my hands and began to fuck her face against the door. Every thrust I made; her head knocked on the door in unison. The sensation was overwhelming as I continued to break her barrier for breath and sliding it back out. My orgasm was threatening to release. Within a few pumps my cock exploded down her throat. I held her head steadfast as I released hearing her gasp for air.

In an unplanned moment, I kept my left hand on the back of her head, spread my legs to anchor my position and placed my right hand over her nose. As my satisfied cock was still inside her wanton mouth, her eyes began to tear. Her air supply was being cut off and that very act kept my dick hard. She tried to slap me away with her hands as I pinched her nose closed with my thumb and forefinger. She tried to move to get away from me, but her feet were pinned to the door.

When the movement from her arms stopped and they fell limp next to her body, I unplugged her nose and withdrew my cock. I moved to the side as she slumped to the floor. Stored up saliva pooled out of her mouth after her head hit the floor onto the rug. I looked over at Richard. He was just beginning to wake up from his stupor.

I cleaned myself up in the bathroom, picked the brunette up off the floor and placed her in the bed next to her girlfriend. I dressed myself quickly and sat in a chair at the dinette table that was in the room.

Richard came to a few moments later.

***

“Holy shit dude! He knew nothing?”

“Slept through the whole thing.”

“I guess that was good for you?”

“The arrangement couldn’t have been more perfect really.”

“How was that?”

“Patience, Christian,” I continued.

***

After looking around the room for a few minutes, trying to remember where he was and how he got there, Richard noticed both girls on the bed.

“What the fuck? Did I miss all the fun?”

“No, you can still have fun with them if you want. As for me I’m done for the night.”

“Are they passed out?”

“It appears that way.”

“Do you think they’ll mind if I have fun while they are in that state?”

“I paid them enough money; I don’t think they’ll care. Whether you get a response or not is another story.”

I set the bait for my friend to do something he normally would not think of doing. As much as the opportunity arose for him to have sex with someone other than his wife, he never took it. He was always afraid of rejection. Well now he did not have to be. They would never know.

Richard came to life in a way I had never seen. I took the gloves I had on off my hands and placed them in the duffle I had stashed inside the closet, and promptly moved it to the front door. I headed back to the restroom to fold the girls’ clothes and leave them in their proper place. I turned back to see Richard touching every part of the girls’ bodies with his bare hands.

I made myself scarce as Richard did his thing. That was something I did not want to watch. I could hear the bed creek as Richard was “taking advantage” of one of them. He started with the brunette and eventually made his way to the blonde. A few moments later he came rushing into the bathroom.

“Dorian, I think I fucked up, man.”

“You what now?” I said as I placed the empty purses next to the appropriate outfits.

“I said, I fucked up. With the blonde. I think I killed her.”

My reaction had to be one of surprise. I did not want him to know the job had already been done.

“What the fuck, Richard?”

I stormed out of the restroom and immediately went to the bed. I “checked” for signs of life.

“I don’t know. They both look worse for wear. Did I do that to them both?”

“It appears so. Neither is breathing.”

I stayed calm as Richard went into a tizzy. He could not believe he had done such a thing. He was not that type of man, blah, blah, blah. I finally calmed him down and talked some sense into him.

“Okay, shut up and listen for a moment. What did it feel like when you killed her?”

“What?”

“What did it feel like when you killed her… well them. Your answer is very important.”

Richard thought hard about what I had asked him. I could see him trying to process everything that happened in the past few minutes. He finally spoke.

“I guess it felt good.”

“Either it did, or it didn’t. Be surer of yourself.”

“It did… it felt good. It felt better than good if I’m honest with myself.”

“I thought you might say that.”

“Are you disappointed?”

“No, I’m not.”

That was not a lie. The truth was, that admission fit my plan nicely. It meant that I could bring him with me, let him pass out, do my thing, and leave. A new twist to my sick, demented game.

“So, what happens now?” he asked.

“We leave.”

“Just like that? What about checking out?”

“Not to worry. Leave the room key on the nightstand. Let’s go.”

Without asking further questions, I picked up the duffle and Richard and I left together. He had forty-five minutes before he had to clock out from his shift. His car was parked at his place of employment, so he chose to walk back. He needed to sober up before he drove home. We made plans to meet in two weeks. He needed to reflect on “what he had done” and I was perfectly fine with it. Instead of moving my car down the few blocks to where my apartment was located, I decided to go for a drive.

***

Christian sat with a puzzled yet curious look on his face.

“I know you have questions, ask them.”

“How did you convince Richard that he had done the killings himself? Surely, he wasn’t that gullible.”

“You’d be surprised what the mind can convince one of. Especially when slightly impaired.”

“So just by those four little words of ‘how did it feel’ he believed he did the act?”

“Subliminal suggestion is a wonderful tool, when used correctly.”

“You have an interest in psychology too?”

“No, it’s from observing people for one hundred and sixty-four years.”

“So, not only did you become a sexual predator, but you also became an emotional one as well?”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but in a matter of speaking I guess that’s accurate. If you think that me finding people’s inner weaknesses and plotting suggestions in their minds to enhance them classifies me as an emotional predator, then I suppose I am.”

“What did you see in Richard that made him the perfect target?”

“That man was a walking mess from the word go. He wanted acceptance, he wanted to take control of something. You could tell by the way he talked too much at any given moment. His stories had to be better than others, he wanted to be the center of attention in public and a dominant one in private. Something his wife would not allow him to be.”

“Is everyone really that transparent?”

“They become so, eventually. Once you observe a person long enough, their true self comes out. Whether it be through body language, their mannerisms or even their subconscious thinking.”

“And you learned all this just by watching people?”

“I’ve done it for over a century and a half. It hasn’t failed me yet.”

“I have an unrelated question.”

“Go ahead.”

“How did you fund all of this? You weren’t working from what you have mentioned. How were you able to get the hotel rooms and the toys as you called them.”

“That’s a simple answer. I funded everything from the money I stole from my playmates.”

“And you said you were a gentleman.”

Christian’s comment came off a little sarcastic. It was off putting to say the least. I never explained to anyone why I did what I did, and I had no intention of doing so now. The answer I gave should have told him everything.

“I was and am still a gentleman. I court women and men alike properly. I do the acceptable things ones of stature require. I may put them off a tad by being brutally honest with what I say to them. What I do in my private time is my business and my business alone.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you. You have to understand how surreal this seems. First off you tell me you’re an immortal being who’s over one hundred and fifty years old. Then you tell me you became a serial killer, and by the powers that be managed to get aways with it, to be told with future details. Can you see how unbelievable this sounds?”

I was growing irritated. Christian had touched a nerve that had not been touched in a very long time. The possibility of rejection. I did not do well with rejection, so instead of waiting for him to reject me and my story, I laid it all on the table.

“Look, Christian. If you think that I am full of shit, that my story is full of shit and unbelievable, then you can pack your shit and get the fuck out of my house!”

Christian’s eyes went wide. He had not counted on me reacting the way I did.

“I meant no disrespect. You know I didn’t. And I never said I couldn’t sell the story. The gothic community will love you. I apologize for what I said. Can we just start over?”

I nodded my head yes. Rejection averted. At least for now. What the future held I did not know, but I would continue to tell Christian everything he wanted to know.

“Tell me what happened with Richard. After you reeled him into your plans.”

“I had to do some information gathering of my own on the man. Sure, he seemed like he wanted to take part in things, but he did have a big mouth, so I had to do some surveillance on him.”

“So, you essentially started stalking the man?”

“I did. In the end, he became the pivotal piece in my end game.”

“What does that mean?”

“You will soon find out, my young friend.”

***

I started stalking Richard the night after my latest kills. I was not sure he would be in the mindset he needed for me to complete my tasks. I followed him to his humble home that was conveniently twenty minutes from the Lodi Hotel. He never mentioned that he lived in New Jersey. He was the typical married man, two point five kids, white picket fence. Very simple. Little did he know his simple life would be turned upside down.

I also followed him to his place of employment. I snuck in one evening undetected just to see what the man did while there. True to form, his big mouth liked to brag about shit. A little too much. Fortunately for me, his coworkers did not believe a word he said. In time, that mouth of his was going to get him, and possibly us, in a shit ton of trouble.

He continued to leave during his shift and frequent Aphrodite’s without me. Whether he was venturing out on his own, I had no idea. I was not about to find out what he was up to in that regard. However, if he was it was an unexpected perk for my plan.

***

“How so?” Christian asked inquisitively.

“He would eventually fuck things up. He was by no means as skilled as I was when it came to saving souls.”

“Is that what you thought you were doing?”

“In a strange way, at the time, yes.”

“That seems like strange thinking.”

“To some it is very strange thinking. But having made a pact with the devil and selling my soul, I thought that by releasing these women from their mortal lives, the pain and anguish of doing what they chose to do would end.”

“Hmm… I guess it could be plausible. But I’m sure their souls went to the underworld.”

“No, I’m sure they went elsewhere if you believe in that sort of thing. Someone took their lives. They did not take their own.”

“Are you saying you’re agnostic?”

“I’m completely atheist. I have seen too many freakish things in my life to believe that a God exists.”

“But you believe in the Devil, they go hand in hand.”

“I accept the fact that without good there is no evil, I said that before. Good and Evil braided be. But if there were such a God, would he allow all this death to happen? He or she is supposed to be the savior of all sinners. I have yet to see it.”

“They say he will come when he has seen enough.”

“I’ve been around a very, very long time and have yet to see him make an appearance. So, excuse me if I do not carry the same beliefs.”

I immediately turned the conversation back to Richard. Two things I do not discuss in the company of anyone: religion and politics. Those subjects cause too many unwarranted arguments between people, even those that are the best of friends, sometimes shifting the friendships or acquaintances elsewhere.

***

After I was satisfied that Richard would be the perfect partner, we continued with our normal routine. We varied tactics now and then. Sometimes we would just pick random sex workers off the street and take them to the lakes or out by the river. I did not kill every single one of them, but I would leave them in a perpetual state of confusion of the night’s events.

They would wonder how they got where they were. They may have a description of their assailant, but it was usually Richard they woke up enough to see. I was almost always waiting for him in my car when I finished getting my rocks off and leaving behind souvenirs of my efforts: scratch marks, teeth marks, and the results of knife play.

Richard never bothered to wear gloves to cover his tracks. He got into the moments a little too eagerly and he either forgot or seriously did not give a shit and wanted to be caught. Either way nothing he did bothered me.

Our partnership continued for several years. The headlines were always the same. “Unknown Female Found Dead in Hotel” or something to that effect.

Richard started getting more brazen the longer we partnered together. Once he woke up from a night where I had beheaded and behanded a runaway. As morbid as the scene was already, he did his business then proceeded to cut off the girl’s breasts when he was finished with her and placed them on the headboard as a calling card. He went back later that night, after we separated, whether out of guilt or some other feeling and tried to burn the evidence. His efforts were thwarted from what the story in the paper said. It reported that the maid saw smoke coming from the bottom of the door. She tested the doorknob, and it was fine to enter the room. She saw a small fire in the wastepaper basket then looked to find the horror that was in front of her. She could not give an accurate description of who was in the room that evening.

***

“It sounds like he was becoming more of a hinderance than anything at this point.”

“We had been at it for many years at this point, and yes he was.”

“So, what did you do then?”

“By this point my lust for saving souls was coming to an end, at least temporarily. So, I did the only thing I could.”

***

It was the night of what was to be my last kill. Richard had no idea I had grown bored with playing in the cesspool. Rumors started circulating amongst the public that it had to be a local killer that was doing all the carnage in Times Square. They had just started profiling within the police department. Some even believed it was an officer doing all the killing, as they had complete access to all the institutions on the street without question.

Richard and I met at Aphrodite’s as usual.

“What’s the plan for tonight? One, two, three of them?”

“I’ve always told you, no more than two at a time. Things become too complicated with more than that.”

“But I want to torture one while the other watches. That’s the most fun.”

He had a point; it really was but he was never conscious when I played. So, he never really knew.

During our conversation that evening I came to find out that his wife was divorcing him because she found out he was going out and paying for sex. He had confined himself in the basement apartment of their home to stay away from her. She was due to move out of the house that very day, so he was out here biding his time until she left completely. Given the time, I presumed she already had.

“Look, I know you want to have some fun, but tonight you will have to do it without me. I have other plans.”

Richard’s eyes narrowed and he looked at me suspiciously.

“What other plans? This ain’t like you.”

“I have a date. Broadway show. Can’t get out of it.”

“Fuck! It has to be tonight?”

“Sad to say, yes. But you’ve done this without me before. You can do it again.”

“I guess, but it’s not as much fun without you.”

“Sorry, I can’t. Same time in two weeks?”

“Yes, I will be here with bells on.”

I leaned into his ear before I left Aphrodite’s as I removed myself from the bar.

“Make sure you pick a good one and go for the gusto.”

“How was he supposed to pull it off on his own? You were the one with the trunk of toys.”

“Ah, well, Richard had put together his own small bag of toys with the basics. Knife, tape, gags, chloroform. Nothing as sophisticated as mine. He would never compare to me and that’s what I counted on.”

As soon as I left Aphrodite’s, I planted myself across the street at a late-night news stand and watched Richard’s movements. True to form, twenty minutes later, he walked out with a woman who was a good five inches taller than him with the shoes she had on. I could not wait to see how he would get the wet rag to her mouth to knock her out.

They both walked to his car and once she slid into the passenger seat, he covered her mouth and nose with chloroform. Rookie mistake. He would inevitably have to do it a few more times during the evening. He would have a fight on his hands.

When I saw his car go in the direction of the Times Square Hotel, I jumped into mine and drove to Richard’s house. When I pulled into his driveway, I noticed there were no lights on and the description of the car his wife drove was not there. She had moved out and took the kids, leaving her sex deranged husband to his own devices. Her words, by no means mine.

I picked the lock on the front door and entered his humble abode. I saw the door that was to the left of the central living area. The basement apartment. I quickly walked toward the door and opened it. I flipped the light switch to my left and proceeded down the staircase that led down below. It was a large area. One room with a bathroom off to the right. A closet was added next to the staircase. I opened it. It looked smaller than it was. It was deep and long.

I hurriedly ran back up the stairs, out the front door and to my car. I grabbed my bag of toys, and the container that held all the trinkets I had kept from my victims as reminders of who they were. I would no longer need these items. It was time to pass them on to the “true” killer.

The only thing I replaced was the original letter opener I had always used. I obtained one that was similar in description. I was not willing to part with my first implement. It had significant sentimental value.

Once I placed the items in the closet and some out in the living area, I left Richard’s home, never to return. I drove back to Times Square, entered my apartment, and became a recluse for the next few years, so to speak.

I stopped going to the venues, clubs, and refused to interact with the sex workers altogether. My time had run its course. Things in society were beginning to change and I was not comfortable with them. Laying low was my best option. Richard, however, was not quite done.

“What do you mean society was beginning to change? It changes every single day.”

“I agree with you. Let me rephrase. Things within the police departments and technology were beginning to change.”

“Meaning what exactly?” Christian walked over to my bar and perused the alcohol I had on display. “Do you mind if I have one?”

“By all means. Pick your poison.”

“Thanks. What was happening within the police departments?”

“Criminal profiling had started. They profiled me to a tee. Malignant narcissist, sexual sadist, immaculate and confident with my killing, aged between thirty-five and forty. They got that part wrong entirely, but they didn’t know that.”

Christian settled for scotch, neat. He poured me a whiskey. He eyeballed the absinthe I had but more than likely had no clue how to prepare one so settled for the easier of the two options. I thanked him and he returned to his seat at the table.

“Right. Chronologically, how old were you then?”

“One hundred and twenty-one. Still looked like I do now. Twenty-four.”

“During all this time, no one could give an accurate description of anything?”

“Not where I was concerned. Not at first. But that soon changed.”

“Changed how? “

“Thanks to Richard’s big mouth, and a general description that was given by one of his conquests, I was soon to become a person of interest.”

“I see nothing happened to you, during that course of events.”

“No, I hid my tracks perfectly, but it became the biggest inconvenience and thorn in my side for a short time.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“I will when I return. I must excuse myself. Nature calls.”

I rose from the couch and headed to one of my downstairs bathrooms. The one I went to happened to be connected to the room that held my painting. I did my business and when finished, entered the room that held my soul.

The painting had not changed. It seemed comfortable. Something I had not seen in quite some time. Apparently, airing my dirty laundry was to be part of my process. I was not about to argue or ask any unwanted questions to piss it off. I just backed out quietly and rejoined the man that was keeping me immortal on paper, for the moment.

“Where did we leave off?” I asked as I began pacing the great room. My legs had grown tired of sitting.

“You were about to tell me of the inconvenience with the police.”

“Yes, right. Now mind you when I mention this, the years will have jumped but I will fill that in soon enough.”

“Okay. Like how much of a jump are we talking?” Christian stopped before he asked the next part of his question. “I know, patience. There’s a reason you are telling your story this way, I know.”

“Quick learner you are, and very observant.”

“I have to be with what I do for a living.”

“Yes, I imagine you would have to be. Nineteen eighty-two.”

“What?”

“That was the year.”

“The year you became a person of interest?”

“Yes. All the other details will be divulged after this part of my story. You will have everything you need to fill in the gaps.”

“Give me a moment to change tapes, if you would, before you start.”

“Of course.”

Christian removed a fresh cassette tape from his briefcase. This type of technology was considered old school with all the recording devices through phones and whatnot, but he preferred to record things this way. I could not find fault with it.

“Tape number three, with Dorian Gray. June seventh, twenty twenty-three. Please continue, Dorian.”

I cleared my throat and took a swig of my drink before I continued.

With all the killings that were happening in Times Square, not just by myself and Richard, the police needed a new way to wrangle suspects. They were slow to respond to anything at first. They were still trying to figure out if Richard was a local or if he was a drifter, or what his actual story was.

They had just come off a barrage of senseless killings two months prior with the Son of Sam, so the community was in upheaval. For those that do not remember, Son of Sam reigned supreme between July of nineteen seventy-six to July of nineteen seventy-seven.

The height of our reign started two months after his. September of nineteen seventy-seven. After David, Son of Sam, was captured, he confessed to eight killings. He had nothing on us. Let me rephrase, he had nothing on me. I was far too creative. So much so, the police were sickened by what they saw in the aftermath of me, which ultimately became the aftermath of Richard.

By the time nineteen eighty rolled around and I had decided I was done, Richard went into a frenzy on his own. Well, attempted to, at best. During one of his exploits, one of his toys woke up halfway through her torture, saw his face, and pretended to pass out again. He had taken her to the lake, raped her, robbed her, and left her. He decided, for whatever reason, not to kill her. My guess was he did not have enough time because he had to clock out from his job.

She had reported her assault to the police. Richard’s rendering was in the paper the following day. It looked like him but was not quite accurate. This image had him with a full head of hair when in fact, he was balding in the middle of his head.

That was a minor oversight. Richard had not made the suspect list. Yet. His time would come a few months later with the start of the new year.

During nineteen eighty-one, a disease called AIDS was becoming very scary for everyone. Richard decided to end his career with a bang. He attempted to take two women on his own. The Lodi hotel, his place of choice. He botched his game completely. The two girls overpowered him, knocked him over the head with a table lamp and ran out. Richard was lucky enough to escape undetected, but the police had a more accurate description of him. That was when the investigation started.

***

“How did that even come about?”

“A coworker of his had called him into the police as a person of interest after seeing his picture in a New Jersey paper one morning. He was called in for questioning and the police were at my door shortly after.”

***

I heard a strong knock on my door. It was authoritative. The day I had dreaded was upon me.

“Just a moment please,” I answered, as I covered my self-portrait with a bed sheet. I answered the door a few moments later. On the other side were two overgrown Neanderthals. One in plain clothing and one in an officer’s uniform.

“We are looking for a Dorian Gray.”

“You found him. What can I do for you gentlemen?”

The plain clothed officer introduced himself as Detective Marrow and his partner, Officer Smith.

“Can we come in? We have a few questions to ask you,” Detective Marrow said as he started walking through the threshold. So much for waiting for an invitation.

“Please do. What do these questions have to do with?” I widened the door so the two could enter.

“We are investigating a man by the name of Richard Dickman. Your name came up in passing.”

“What exactly did Richard do?”

Fuck, I knew what they thought he did. I just had to play this off the right way or I would end up in a cell next to the man. I would not do well in prison.

“We aren’t quite sure yet, but he is suspected in being involved with the Times Square murders.”

“Richard? Seriously?” I tried to act as surprised as I could.

“How do you know him?”

“In passing honestly. We used to frequent… and this is most embarrassing… Aphrodite’s.”

The detective shook his head.

“Did you go together?”

“No, we just happened to be there on the same night of the week. Friday is when I used to go.”

“What do you know of him?”

That was a loaded question if I ever heard one. Officer Smith looked around my soapbox of an apartment for whatever evidence he could find, which would be none.

“Again, this is most embarrassing, but to be honest, the more he drank, the more he talked.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“I found out by his own admission that he was married, in the process of a divorce, and he worked at a computer place around the corner from Aphrodite’s.”

“He told you all that?” the detective asked in disbelief.

“He told everyone that. The man was loud and boisterous the more he drank. Everyone in the venue could hear what he said.”

“Would you classify yourselves as friends?”

“No, just acquaintances, as I stated previously.”

Officer Smith came to my covered painting on the wall, I stopped him before he could peek under the sheet.

“Excuse me, officer, could you not touch that?”

“What is it?”

“Unfinished artwork I am in the middle of working on. I wish it not to be seen until it’s finished.”

“I can relate. My wife does the same thing with her books.” Officer Smith let it be and continued to scour the rest of the apartment.

“I have one more question for you, Mr. Gray, and we will be out of your hair.”

“Ask me what you wish. I have nothing to hide.”

I had everything to hide, but they had no idea.

“Did you ever hang out with him outside of Aphrodite’s?”

Here came one of the biggest lies I ever told in my existence as a human being. Well, I should say, a partial lie.

“Nope. He was a man I wished not to keep company with.”

“Why is that Mr. Gray?”

“Something about him just rubbed me the wrong way. Aside from conversing with him at Aphrodite’s, I had nothing to do with the man.”

***

“That lie actually worked?” Christian asked stupefied.

“Yes, it did. You have to remember, Richard at that time fully believed he was responsible for all the killings, even though he had nothing to do with the ones I had done.”

“All through the power of suggestion?”

“Yes. If you tell someone something long enough, and if their brain is of an accepting state, they will believe anything.”

“Quite the master manipulator.”

“That wasn’t always the case. Most of the time it worked but there were a few instances where it didn’t.”

“You mentioned the AIDS scare. What happened to Times Square then?”

“The mayor at the time, an eager chap named Bill, took it upon himself to renovate the entire community. He closed all the sex venues, peep shows, and sex shops. The first major store to make an appearance at that time was from a major film franchise. It held items of all children’s favorite cartoon characters. After that, higher end stores would emerge as time went on.”

“When was Richard finally captured?”

“That would have been the summer of nineteen eighty-two.”

After visiting me at my apartment, the investigation into Richard was thrown into full throttle. I had heard through the grapevine, if you will, that Richard’s mouth never shut while at work. The nights he decided not to go out, he bragged about everything. At first, his coworkers did not believe a thing he said. The more he talked, the more they began to question. The more they questioned, he drew diagrams of places. The weirder he became, a call or two were placed to the police department on his behalf.

“How did you find all this out?”

“Subsequent news articles and the like that came out after they captured him.”

***

The police were able to obtain the physical address of Richard through some questioning the officers did one night at his place of employment. When Detective Marrow led the raid of Richard’s home one Saturday afternoon, they found all the evidence they needed. My tool bag of toys, the souvenirs, along with whatever Richard kept on his own. He was arrested and placed in custody shortly afterward.

My plan worked perfectly. He had no choice but to confess a few days later. The evidence against him was just too great although it was all circumstantial. Because he had ventured out on his own, he truly thought he had done them all.

***

“That’s some fucked up shit. He never mentioned you after that one day?”

“No, I went to see him after he confessed, under a fictitious name of course. I reiterated the fact that all the killings had been his idea from the start. He accepted his fate. Case closed.”

“What about the gloves?”

“Those were never found. I removed them from the evidence I planted. I burned them with my roofie injector, as I so fondly called it. I never existed. I was not in the system. Richard was stopped and booked once for public intoxication but nothing major, so by the time DNA evidence was introduced they had the key that locked the case up tighter than before.”

“Time to clarify some things, if you would indulge me.” Christian grabbed his notepad and pen from the table and moved forward in his chair.

“Anything you need.” I had stopped pacing the great room and sat down myself, waiting for his next question.

“You insinuated that Son of Sam was a novice compared to you. Just how many killings did you get away with?”

“We went out twice a month. Average one person per incident from nineteen sixty-nine to nineteen eighty-two if you count Richard’s solo missions. You do the math.”

“That’s over three hundred women.”

“The number seems like a lot, but it was just a drop in the bucket back then with everything else that was going on. But everything came to a halt after that year.”

“You really don’t harbor any remorse or guilt for what you’ve done, do you?”

“I told you; I never have with anything I’ve done. Does that make me a bad person? It depends on who’s looking.”

“How do you deal with it?” Christian’s question was genuine. He wanted to know how my mind worked.

“There’s only one way to truly release yourself of guilt.”

“And what is that?”

“To embrace your sins. Accept who you are. Question nothing.”

“Do what you want, when you want, consequences be damned?”

“Exactly.”

“I take it you do not do well with authority.”

“I don’t mind authority. It does have a time and place, but I generally don’t like the confines in which it constitutes one to be in.”

“What does that mean?”

“Again, it relates to me doing what I want when I want. I refuse to be put inside of a box. I refuse to be told this is right, and this is wrong. I know the difference, although my perceptions may be outside the norm.”

“They are extremely outside the norm. I understand you believed you were doing the right thing, and saving souls etcetera, but society will never see it as such.”

“Do I give a shit what society considers normal? No, I don’t. Never have. And I don’t believe I ever will as long as I walk this earth. If you wish not to continue, I again will give you the option to leave.”

“Are you kidding? People will want to know if the monster was able to redeem himself!”

“Is that how you think of me? A monster?”

I had to ask. Essentially, in layman’s terms I was one. Albeit a victim of my own circumstance, but a self-made monster, nonetheless. That part ironically weighed on me heavily. I had never been described like that before. Hearing it from an innocent’s lips made it hit home harder than it should have.

“No, I don’t see you as a monster. Not in the true sense of the word, but you must admit there are undertones. You bend unknowing people to your will with ease. You use them for what you can, and you discard them. One may see a monster effect. What I see, is a displaced man who tried to make the best of his situation. We all make mistakes. We are human after all.”

Christian tried to make me feel better in a very awkward moment. It did not work. At all.

“If I were to stop the story here, what do you think people would think?”

“They would think I was just interviewing a serial killer who literally got away with murder.”

“But I did. You aren’t lying to them.”

“No, but they will want more. Like did the infamous Dorian Gray ever fall in love? Did he ever have kids? Did he start his life over? Stuff like that.”

“I did fall in love, twice, after Cybyl. Once was in the mid-eighties and the other was just recently.”

“Do you feel like talking about them?”

“I do, but I will start with the latter first.”

The next part of my story that I am about to tell you occurred between the years of nineteen eighty-three and nineteen eighty-five. Another wave of the women’s movement was in full force and things in the States had shifted yet again.

I had moved out of Times Square by this time and purchased the country estate in upstate New York where I currently reside. The city will be unnamed, but it was comparable in size to London. I lived far enough out of the city to retain my privacy, yet close enough for day-to-day living. I did still like to get out and socialize whenever I could. To feel like I was a normal person, during the day at least.

I quickly became a pillar of society once again, much like I was in London. I held charitable events at my home, made sizeable donations when needed, and sold myself as an upstanding citizen. Things felt great. I felt great. I truly believed my past was behind me- Richard had made sure of that a few years before. Nothing and no one could touch me.

That specific thought had a fleeting end. I had not looked for it. I had not wanted it, but Cupid thrust his arrow directly into my cold, shriveled heart. The problem was, she belonged to another. Forbidden fruit if you will. Did that stop me from pursuing her? No. In fact, it made the game more fun. I hope I am keeping your full attention; I would hate for you to become bored with me.

“Who was this lady love that you speak of?” Christian asked, as we ate Chinese food. Sweet and Sour pork for him and Kung Pao Chicken for myself. I could never get enough of this shit. It was too damn divine. One of my favorite foods, next to anything Mexican. I could live on either or both and not eat anything else for the rest of my life.

“Her name was Lily.”“Was?”

“Yes, she is no longer in my life.”“Dead?”

“I hope not.”

“Sorry, had to ask.”

“I did not kill every single person that came into my life, remember. Most left or died by other means.”

“Understood. Enchant me with Miss Lily.”

***

Enchanting she was. From the moment I saw her at the farmer’s market on a brisk fall day in September, year nineteen eighty-three. I had done my usual Tuesday routine. I quite enjoyed the farmer’s markets. They reminded me of the streets of London. To say I was homesick for the place was an understatement, but there was nothing for me to go back to there. I acquiesced that whatever life I had left, I would spend here, so why not make the best of it, no matter how mundane it became.

I smelled Lily before I saw her if that makes any sense. A warm body walked by me, and my nose was instantly flooded with the smell of honeysuckles. When I looked up from the stand of exotic fruits, I saw her. She seemed familiar to me, but not. Like I had seen her somewhere before, but I could not place where.

The statuesque blonde, curly hair up in a bun secured to her head with an old-fashioned hair pin, adorned in a light summer dress with flowers as blue as her eyes, turned and smiled at me. She was perfect. She was also walking with a man who was clearly not interested in the events of their day. An argument ensued between them.

“Lily, when you said you wanted to do something adventurous, this is not what I had in mind.”

“Of course not, George. You want to keep me locked up in the house and in your bed for all eternity. I need fresh air and sunshine on occasion!”

“Says who?”

“You’re a pompous, arrogant, excuse of a man! I don’t know why I bother with you!”

Lily tried to walk away, and he forcefully grabbed her and pulled her back to him.

“Don’t you dare embarrass me! Especially in public! You cunt of a woman!”

Before I could stop myself, I interjected into a situation that had nothing to do with me. The truth was her companion needed an attitude adjustment. I was about to give him one.

“Excuse me, I could not help but overhear. I believe the young lady would like to be let go.”

“This doesn’t concern you, asshole. Back the fuck off.”

“Oh, but I do think it concerns me. It concerns me a lot. A woman of her stature deserves to be cherished. Not manhandled by a weakling in public.”

***

“Okay, I know how that sounds given my past, but it was true. All women were to be cherished and treated like the queens they were meant to be.”

“And the sex workers didn’t deserve the same treatment?”

“They needed saving. Big difference.”

“Fine line.”

I continued with my story without missing a beat.

***

“What I do with her is none of your fucking business,” her partner said through gritted teeth, loud enough so that only I could hear.

“You have made it everyone’s business. At least here. Look around.”

He did and what he saw mortified him even more. All eyes were on him. I deduced he liked to be the center of attention but not in that way. Not when something caused him embarrassment. He immediately let go of Lily’s arm and stalked off. Before he was out of ear shot, he turned and spoke to her.

“I will see you at home, later.”

“I think not. I am done. I will send for my things when I get settled.”

“Fuck you. I was about done with you anyway. Fucking whore.”

After Lily composed herself to the best of her ability, she turned to me and spoke.

“I must apologize for his actions. He does not know what to do with me when we are around others.”

Her voice was the most eloquent, musical sound I ever heard. I had not heard a voice like that since Cybyl. I was taken aback.

“Pardon me for staring, but have we met somewhere before?”

“I don’t believe so.” The more she looked at me the more she studied me. Recollection of anything did not surface.

“Would you like to go for a coffee? To relax and just talk? You’ve had a hard morning.”

“I haven’t done that in ages. Not since I became involved with George. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“It would be my pleasure, my lady. Follow me.”

She let out a small giggle as I extended my arm. She looped hers into mine and I escorted her to a quaint coffee shop on one of the corners by the market. I held the door for her as she walked through, and pulled her seat out when she found the “most perfect” of tables.

We both ordered cappuccinos for a mid-morning pick me up. It seemed we had a few things in common and I had not even delved into her person yet. Once she calmed down and settled in her seat, she began to ask me questions.

“So, what is it you do, Mister?”

“Gray. Dorian Gray.”

“Your name seems so familiar to me for some reason.”

“I am frequently in the papers here.”

How far back she did not need to know.

“No, not from that. From another time entirely.”

I could not grasp what she was telling me right then. I hoped she would expand on her theory if I were lucky enough to get a second encounter with her.

“What on earth are you getting on about?”

“Just a theory I have. It’s not important.”

“Everything is important if one believes it is. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Well, then, I will have to tell you about this theory another time. For we do not have time today.”

“Because of George?”

“No, because I need to figure out where to go.”

“Ah, yes. You did expel yourself from George’s house. May I ask a rather personal question?”

“If you must.”

“You seem too good for him.”

“What is that supposed to mean? And that was not a question, Mr. Gray.”

“You just seem like you come from another place. You don’t act like most of the women around here.”

She smiled a coy smile when I said that to her.

“I can say the same for you Mr. Gray.”

“I, in fact, don’t hail from here. I come from London.”

“Maybe that’s where I know your name from.”

“You’ve been to London?”

“I lived there once, some time ago. But I came here from Ireland.”

“Now you definitely have my full attention, Miss Lily.”

“I have no doubt that I do, but before we even think about a second date, could you recommend a place for me to go? Temporarily at any rate.”

“Actually, I have the perfect place.”

“Where would that be?”

What I was about to say next would put her off, I knew, but it was perfect. It was quiet, and the rent was a great price.

“There are no places like that in this area that I know of, not even back then. There’s nothing but homes up here.”

“Precisely.”

“You seriously did not invite her into your home.”

“No, not this one. There is another.”

“The guest house on my property.”

Lily almost spat her coffee out when she heard my statement.

“Are you serious? I could not impose on you like that. We literally just met.”

“Look, by leaving I presume, and correct me if I’m wrong, that it has left you in a rather precarious situation. I have a solution for you, even if it is just temporary.”

Lily thought it over for a few moments before she answered.

“Sounds like a pretty good offer. What’s in it for you?”

She was a smart one, I gave her that.

“Nothing but the pleasure of your company whenever you choose to give it. I promise I will not bother you. Anything you want, I will see to it that the servants get it for you.”

“When can we get my stuff out of George’s place?”

“We can do it now if you like.”

“I don’t want to go back there.”

“I can take care of that too.”

I placed a phone call to my butler after I received all the pertinent information from Lily. I used one of the pay phones in the back of the coffee house to do so and moments later I returned to Lily.

“My butler will have your things within the next hour. They will be in the guesthouse when we return home.”

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“No thanks necessary. Just willing to help a person in need.”

“You are quite the gentleman, Mr. Gray.”

***

“So, you do think of other people besides yourself. Bravo.” Christian started clapping his hands in approval. Not the reaction I expected.

“Not everything I did or do is vile.”

“But everything you do has a purpose. Whether it be consciously or subconsciously.”

Now Christian was beginning to understand how my mind worked. For every action there was an equal and opposite reaction. Sometimes the reactions were warranted and sometimes not. It was how one dealt with the unwanted reactions that mattered most.

“How did the evening end with Lily?”

***

I had instructed my butler to call the coffee shop when he returned to my home. Lily and I sat for another two hours making small talk until the call finally arrived. I excused myself once again from Lily’s company to take it.

“Is everything okay? You look a little annoyed,” Lily asked as I sat back at the table.

“Everything is fine, your items arrived safely. What I am annoyed about is the attitude of your former housemate. He was quite rude with my butler.”

“That’s George. Every waking moment of the day.”

“What does he do that makes him so sour?”

“He’s a plastic surgeon. He deals with people that are unhappy with themselves every fucking day. It’s not surprising that it rubs off on him.”

“He changes the natural beauty of a woman, is that what you’re telling me?”

I will admit, I never understood the whole plastic surgery craze. A person was made the way they were made. No amount of tweaking and fixing would help if you had a shitty disposition.

“And some men. But they go to him, not the other way around.”

“He sounds like a modern-day version of Frankenstein.”

“You know Dr. Victor Frankenstein?”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, never mind, it’s been a long day. Shall we be on our way?”

“Sure, would like to pick up some takeaway before we go?”

“That sounds heavenly. What do you recommend?”

“How do you feel about burgers and fries?”

“I love them but was never allowed to eat them.”

“Because of George?”

“Yes, I’m embarrassed to say.”

“Tonight, that changes. You will get what you desire, my lady.”

We walked down a few blocks from the coffee shop to the local burger joint. We placed our orders to go. It was a good half-hour drive to my place in the country and relying on experience I knew the food would still be hot and not soggy by the time we reached our destination.

If Lily thought I had let her comment about Frankenstein pass, I had not. I would bring it up again in a future conversation to find out exactly what she meant, or she would tell me when she divulged what was truly on her mind.

When our orders were done and packed correctly, we headed to my car and made our way to my property. I was still driving the same car I had while I was in Times Square.

“This is quite the car you have.”

“Yeah, she’s a classic that’s for sure.”

“How long have you had her?”

“I bought her new off the line.”

I threw a bone. I wanted to see if she would enchant me with tales of her former life. She did not bite, she acted as if she ignored me and what I said. We were winding up the driveway to my home and the scenery changed. Weeping willow trees lined both sides, creating an archway of green. Lily was entranced by what she saw. Even more so when she saw the house. I parked the car, opened her door, and walked her to the front door of the estate.

“This place is magnificent! I don’t see a guesthouse. Does one even exist?”

“It does, but you must come inside to get to it. It’s faster this way.”

Without hesitation, Lily stepped through the front door. Instantly her mouth hung open with all the artwork and plush décor.

“You have a beautiful home, Mr. Gray.”

“Dorian, please. We are passed pleasantries.”

I walked to the French doors and opened them, letting in the fresh cool air. Lily followed and saw the gardens. To the right of them, stood a quaint guesthouse that resembled my home on the exterior. The interior was a simple four room, ranch style home. No stairs. Simplicity at its best.

“You have done well for yourself, Dorian. I am impressed. But I must take in the sights another day, I am hungry and tired.”

“Of course. Forgive me for being rude. Let me get your food and I will bid you good night.”

I walked back to the bar where I had placed our food orders, took mine out of the bag, and handed her the bag and her food.

“It is I who is being slightly rude, Dorian. I do not mean to be.”

“It is understandable, my lady. I trust you will find your accommodation satisfactory. If not, there is a black phone in the kitchen. It connects to my butler directly.”

“I will bid you good night, kind sir. And thank you again, for everything.”

Lily kissed me gently on the cheek out of gratitude, and she promptly took her leave. I watched until she made her way inside the front door of the guesthouse. I closed the French doors and settled in for the evening.

***

“You never found out about Frankenstein?”

“Not that night, no. It eventually came out, sooner than I thought it would. Much like Lily was, I am tired and must rest. It is getting late. I will bid you good night.”

“All right then. I have a few things to compose if that’s okay with you. I will head up to my chambers in a little while.”

“As you wish, Christian. My home is yours.”

I walked directly up the staircase once I peeled myself from the couch.

Once I went upstairs, leaving Christian to do whatever it was he needed to do, I entered my bedroom and shut the door. My mind had taken me back to a time that I loved. Crazy for me to say something like that I am quite sure. But it is honest. I loved that part of my life. Until it changed. Those specific details would be known once I spoke more with Christian. You will have to wait and see if I had any hope at redemption.

I sat on the lounger at the foot of my bed longer than intended. By the time I snapped from my thoughts, I heard Christian’s footsteps, padding down the hall to his sleeping quarters. I admitted to myself that though this was a business arrangement, having company in the house once again was a nice diversion from my lonely existence. Would I ever admit that out loud? No. I had reverted into myself and showing emotions and feelings were only warranted when I was around a select group of people. None of them were here now.

I needed a shower. I also had to prepare my headspace for the events that would be retold the following day. Reliving my time with Lily would test me at best, I was sure of it. Before I departed for my shower, I picked up the black phone on my nightstand instantly connecting with my butler. I arranged to have a fully catered breakfast from my favorite restaurant. I instructed it to be delivered by six and kept warm until Christian and I rose from our slumber.

After my shower I slid into my bed. I knew sleep would not come for me that night. Images of Lily invaded my mind. She was a hard woman to shake. Even now. Oh, what could have been. I missed her, and to this day she does not know. And she never will. Sadly, she is out of my life. Forever.

Morning came and to my surprise, Christian and I had woken up at the same time. He was making his way down the stairs as I opened my bedroom door. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs when he saw the array of food placed and prepared precisely to my specifications. I ordered everything from the menu, and I do mean everything.

“Dorian, what is all this? I swear you will make me fat before I leave here.” Christian turned and looked at me with amazement.

“I gather you approve?”

“Approve? You’ve done too much already. I swear you’re spoiling me.”

‘I had an ulterior motive.”

“And what was that?” Christian’s left eyebrow rose with curiosity.

“This is to sustain us for the entire day. Breakfast is a comfort food of mine.”

“Will Lily be a sore subject for you? If so, we can bypass her altogether.”

“We most certainly will not. She was a very important part of my life. I am not about to exclude her.”

When our first course of breakfast was finished, I placed the carafe of orange juice on the bar and added some champagne. I had a craving for mimosas. Life with Lily always required champagne, no matter what time of day. If I were to reminisce about her, I may as well do it accordingly. I filled two champagne flutes and handed one to Christian.

“Where would you like to begin?” he asked, as he held up the flute in an unspoken toast.

“You’re the interviewer, where would you like me to start?”

“The day after she arrived seems appropriate.”

“You all set up?”

“I am, I prepped last night.”

“Okay, prepare yourself. Some of this will knock your socks off or be completely unbelievable.”

“Nothing you have said so far seems to be that far-fetched.”

“At one point, you had your doubts.”

“Yes, I did, but after reflection and review, I no longer have them.”

That was a relief. I would hate for him to go through the long process of recording my story only to scrap it down the road.

***

I woke the following morning to find Lily exploring the gardens. She danced around the fields of flowers much like a young girl would on the first day of spring. She was oblivious to my silent invasion. Even in her child-like state she was the most extraordinary creature I had ever laid eyes on.

Her pale skin reflected the sun like a shroud; her sea blue eyes glistened when a small ray of light caught them in just the perfect way. Her smile lit up the entire garden, radiating happiness and joy. To say I was smitten would have been an understatement. Just looking at her sent my heart a flutter.

Was I acting like a love-sick schoolboy with his first crush? Yes, I was. Did I give a flying fuck? Absolutely not. I had not felt this way since Cybyl. I admitted to myself right then that it felt fucking great, and I was in love with her.

Lily finally noticed my presence. She stopped dead in her tracks, looked at me and began to laugh uncontrollably. She placed her right hand over her mouth to try to stifle the melodic noises coming from her heart but failed miserably.

“I am so sorry, Dorian. I had no idea you were there. How long have you been watching me?”

“Not long enough, my lady. Not long enough.”

I saw a slight hint of a blush wash over her face. She walked over to the back patio and sat in one of the metal chairs placed in front of the breakfast table.

“What does a lady have to do to get a cup of tea?”

I pointed to the bell on the table. She looked at it with curiosity. “And what precisely does one do with this contraption?” she asked with a sparkle in her eye.

“You pick it up and move it until it makes a noise.”

I sat opposite her at the table.

“I know how it works silly man. I didn’t think anyone used these anymore.”

Lily rang the bell, and my butler came out a few moments later.

“You rang, Miss?”

“I did. May I have a London Fog and some white toast? Butter on the side, please?”

“For you, Sir?”

“I will have the same. We will take it out here.”

“Very good, Sir.”

My butler, whose name was Bentley, turned on his heel promptly, and went back inside.

“Pardon the interruption but what is a London Fog?”

“A London Fog is a fancy concoction of steeped Earl Gray tea, with steamed milk. It can be drunk unsweetened, but I prefer the sweetened version better. You just add a little vanilla syrup to it.”

Before I could ask Lily about the question she asked me the previous evening about Frankenstein, Bentley returned with our tea and toast. He garnished the tea with lavender petals for an added touch.

“Will there be anything else, Sir?”

“No, Bentley, we are fine for now. Thank you.”

Bentley took his leave. I let Lily eat in silence for a few minutes before I started bombarding her with questions.

“What exactly did you mean last night?”

“About what?” she paused as she ate.

“About Frankenstein. You asked if I knew him.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Did you know him?”

“Can I be completely honest with you?”

“Whatever you say here will be held in strictest confidence.”

“Are you sure? What I am about to say seems ludicrous to some. At least it was to George.”

“Let me make some things perfectly clear. One, I am not George. Two, I have seen some unbelievable things that most have not, and three. Fuck George! The man is not worth the air you breathe!”

“Are we jealous, Mr. Gray?”

“Certainly not, my lady. I am not one to get that way. It’s such a wasted, unwarranted emotion.”

“Why do you keep calling me your lady? I am certainly not.”

“I never got your last name.”

“Crawford. My last name is Crawford.”

“Duly noted, but my pet name for you stands. Please tell me your story. I promise not to judge.”

“I would hope not, Mr. Gray…er Dorian. A true gentleman never does.”

She did have a point. But being that no human is perfect, or immortal for that matter, no one should judge another at all, no matter how crazy their story may be. If the person telling it believed it to be true, who were we to question its validity?

“Let me ask you a question first, Dorian. Were you in London during its dark period?”

“Are you referring to what the history books called the Imminent Demise of London?” I was stalling answering her question. She was supposed to tell me about herself, not the other way around.

“The very same event, yes. I only ask because of the other comment I made to you last night. The one about you seeming familiar but not.”

I sighed heavily and took another sip of my tea before I continued. I did not want to scare the girl off, but the way she was looking at me with anticipation and concern on her face, I had to be completely honest with her.

“The year was eighteen ninety-one. Hell on Earth was the event you speak of. Yes, I was there.”

“I knew it! I knew I had met you before. I agonized all night trying to place where!”

“If I had met you then, there is no way I ever would have forgotten you.”

“But we did meet, Dorian. It was only for a moment. I did not look the way that I do now.”

My mind was now agonizing with recollection. Suffice it to say, I could not remember the time or place.

“You must forgive me. I cannot recall where we had met.”

“At the time we met, I went by another name. Brona.”

I almost choked on the piece of toast on which I was nibbling. It could not be! The last time I heard that name was from Victor Frankenstein. He informed me that his acquaintance had died from consumption.

“Again, forgive me… the last time I heard that name it was because Dr. Frankenstein was mourning a death.”

“But you do remember us meeting? I will explain the rest shortly.”

“Victor had brought you out to a gathering our mutual friend, the museum curator, was having at his wife’s estate.”

“Yes! I was involved with Victor then. However, things did not work out for us. I had moved on, but he refused to let me go.”

“What does that mean, exactly?”

***

“So, she’s been alive as long as you?” Christian asked out of the blue.

“Not as long as me, but yes, it appeared so.”

“How are these things even possible? I know what you say is true. Well, I believe it is. What I can’t get my head around is how any of this is even possible.”

“Even I cannot answer that. All I can say is the powers that be, whatever they are, will make things happen if you wish for them hard enough.”

“Like miracles?”

“If you call what happened to me a miracle, you are way off the mark. The Devil does not produce miracles. He produces abominations.”

***

“It means, Dorian, that Victor created another monster.”

“In what way? You are far from a monster, Lily.”

“I was with another man at the time. He had demons of his own to deal with. I was very sick. Consumption was overrunning my body. Mentally I was fine. Physically, my shell of a body was giving up. The man I was with called Victor to make me comfortable in my final days. He sent my companion out of the room to fetch some warm, clean towels. When he left the room, Victor proposed something to me that I thought impossible.”

“What was that?”

“He asked me if he could give me eternal life, a chance to start over, would I, do it?”

“You were not in the right headspace for something like that! How dare he ask such a thing.”

“But I was in the right headspace. What he proposed sounded like heaven on Earth. Well, at the time it did.”

“You obviously agreed to it.”

“I did, but at a price. I had trusted him with my life when we were together. There was no reason for me not to trust him then.”

“What happened next?”

“Victor was the last person to see me alive. He recited my favorite poem to me as he took a bed pillow into his hands. He kept reciting it as he placed the pillow over my face. He waited until I took my last breath.”

“Victor took your life only to give it back. Why didn’t he just try to cure you of the consumption?”

“There was no cure for it, Dorian. And as selfish as Victor had become when it came to me, he did what he thought best.”

I had distanced myself from Victor and London’s inner circle at that point in my life. I had no idea Victor was still trying to create the perfect monster. Let alone a female one.

***

“Was Lily trying to tell you that he was creating another monster for someone else?”

“Let me explain Victor. The man was obsessed with death and life thereafter. He had a theory that you could bring someone back and recondition them to be something better than they were before, or he would create new bodies entirely.”

“According to folklore, he had created one. Once. He was quite the disfigured abomination.”

“I read the same, although I had never seen it. Did it ever exist? Yes, I believe it did.”

“What was Victor missing from his life that made him do these things?”

“Aside from his severe morphine addiction, what he really wanted was love.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“Yes, but Victor was not the type of man to which one could easily relate. Every conversation was of a scientific nature. And I will admit, he was quite boring at times. If he came across that way with men, there was no way in hell he could ever relate to the persuasions of a woman.”

“I suppose you’re right. That in and of itself is a lonely existence.”

“You can be with someone, love them with all your heart and soul and still have a lonely existence. Just because you’re together does not mean you’re not alone.”

“I am guessing that comment has something to do with Miss Lily?”

“Let me finish our story. You can decide for yourself.”

I poured another flute of mimosa and propped my feet up on the coffee table.

Lily pushed her plate away from her when she finished her toast. Her London Fog had grown cold in its cup.

“Do you mind if we walk while I tell the rest? I fear my backside has gone numb.”

“Whatever you wish.”

We stood and headed down a garden path. The trail was the longest one the gardens had. She would need time to retell her journey.

“So, what I later found out, when Victor took my life, my partner was grief stricken. He had tried to make it back in time before my former life was extinguished, but Victor saw to it that that was not a possibility. My partner, Ethan, wanted a proper funeral. Victor convinced him that a funeral was not feasible. Cremation would be better given the state of my body.

Victor took my body away from the only true home I had ever known. What happened next is truly deplorable.”

“It can’t be that bad. You are standing next to me.”

Lily let out a labored sigh. This must have been worse for her than I thought.

“The asshole, excuse my language, kept me in a bathtub full of water! For how long I do not recall. It must have been for some time. He said he continuously massaged my body to keep me from wrinkling. Personally, I thought he did it because he got his rocks off by doing so.”

“Please don’t take offense to this, but you are probably right. The man never truly knew the company of a woman.”

“The fuck he didn’t! When I was Brona, he knew every inch of me. And just like the rest of his life those encounters were boring as well.”

I could not help but laugh. The poor man could not catch a break, no matter how hard he tried. Maybe that was the problem. He tried too hard with everything.

“How exactly did he bring you back to life?”

“During a thunderstorm. He turned on his machinery, waited for lightning to hit it and charge the water that I was in.”

“That does not seem plausible. Didn’t he risk burning down the place?”

“One would think, but out of sheer dumb luck, or precise planning, I’m not sure which, his freakish experiment worked.”

“What did all that entail for you afterward?”

“I had to be reconditioned. The more time that passed, I started to remember things. Things I would not tell him about until after. He helped me, educated me and that sort of thing, but then he tried to control me, and thought I was his.”

“Not the best of scenarios.”

“No, it wasn’t. The more he tried to control me, the more I rebelled. He thought he created a woman that would be subservient. What he ended up creating was a stronger, more independent woman. He didn’t like it.”

“So, what did you end up doing?”

“I left him one night when he was working late in his lab. I left a note telling him how grateful I was for the second chance in life and told him I would use all the newfound knowledge to the best of my ability. I left for Ireland that very same night.”

Rumor had it that Victor’s first monster came back to try to reunite with his first family before he was made into the monster he became. When he was rejected, he went to the Arctic and Victor followed to put an end to its misery. Ultimately, Victor died of pneumonia.

While Lily was in Ireland, she had heard he had taken his own life. Overdosing on morphine. However, it happened, a brilliant mind was extinguished.

“How did you end up here?”

“I grew tired of Ireland. It was my place of birth, but it lacked the luster and chaos I desperately wanted. I had always read stories about the city that never slept. I wanted to see if it was true.”

“Haha… that was the very same reason for me coming here. I stayed in London for quite a while but, like you, I grew bored. And here I am.”

“I am quite impressed with it really. So many things to do and see. Not that I have seen much.”

“We will have to fix that then.”

“You have already given me a place to stay. I will not put you out any further.”

“I insist. Let me court you the way a proper lady should be courted.”

Again, a slight blush tinted her fair skin. The way the wind blew allowed me to take in her scent of honeysuckles.

“Since you insist, Dorian, then I shall allow it to be.”

“Thank you, I promise you will not regret a moment of it.”

We continued to walk through the gardens until late afternoon. We laughed, joked, got to know each other, and had a surprisingly good, calm afternoon. When she grew tired from the fresh air, she excused herself for a short nap. I told her to dress in her best outfit as I had plans for that evening. I wanted to spoil her. Show her off if you will even though she was not mine to do with as such. She agreed and told me she would meet me on the patio at seven sharp.

***

“Where did you take her?”

“Las Cage aux Folles had just opened on Broadway. It was in its second week of production. She had never been so that’s where the night started. We went to dinner afterwards.”

“Sounds like you two had some wicked chemistry going on.”

“You have no idea how wicked it became. But during that time, she was just coming off a fucked-up relationship. I was not going to force the issue.”

“I bet that was hard to do.”

“Immensely. She saw me as a gentleman, so I acted as such.”

“It seems to me like you enjoyed every minute of it.”

“I did. Knowing that she was from the same place I was, albeit under messed up circumstances, was even better. I could be the person I once was. Before the brutish events took over my soul.”

“What about this Hell on Earth event, or whatever it was you both spoke of.”

“Ah, that fiasco. It was reported that England was to fall into infinite darkness and demons would reign supreme. Some shit like that. I had closed myself off from everything and everyone at that point, so I paid no attention to it. Although, I do seem to recall that London was in complete darkness for about two weeks.”

“Isn’t England always dark and dank?”

“No, not always. But this was different, even for us at the time.”

“Do you think something supernatural happened?”

“Whether it did or didn’t I have no clue. I was in a bad place myself. I didn’t want to deal with everyone else’s bullshit.”

“Time for Mr. Gray to regroup?”

“Something like that.”

What I refused to tell Christian was that supernatural forces were in fact at work during that short time of eternal darkness. The Devil was up to no good and my desire to kill grew stronger. I locked myself in my home, sent my staff home and isolated myself. I did not want to act upon my urges. I believed if I did, I would go to a place from which I would not be able to return. It was the longest two weeks of my life. My internal struggle became so great I thought I might make myself crazy. I was to the point where I was having discussions with myself. Sometimes aloud and sometimes strictly in my head. Those were what scared me the most; the voice I heard was not my own but that of my soul that was hanging in an enclosed room. No one ever needed to know of my potential psychotic episode. I had done enough damage when I first came to New York. That would have classified me as certifiably insane. On a good day.

“Things progressed with Lily?”

“They did. I courted her for half a year before I requested that she move into this house with me. We were spending every waking moment together anyway. It was the natural order of things.”

***

Lily had her items moved into the main house hours after my asking her to join me. Like a giddy schoolgirl she skipped through all the rooms in the house. She was about to open the door that led to the room where my painting was stored.

“Not that one!” It came out harsher than I intended.

“The bloody rumors are true then,” Lily stated instead of asking.

“What rumors?”

“The rumors of you having a specific painting that only you can see. Some say you made a pact with the devil for immortality. Is that true?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. Do you think I had forgotten about the comment you made the first night we met? You bought your car fresh off the line? By the way you look there is no possible way. Ten years old and buying your first car? Not likely.”

I had nothing to say to her. If I tried to tell her otherwise, she would know I was lying. What she did next, I was not prepared for. She walked over to me, kissed me hard on the lips and pushed me to the marble floor. She collapsed on top of me, straddling my waist. Our mouths intertwined. Tongues fighting for dominance.

Lily broke the kiss first. She left me breathing hard. She leaned into my left ear. Before I knew what happened I felt a sharp pain, followed by the oozing of blood. When her head rose away from my face, I was mortified to see the entire lobe of my left ear had been bitten off. The nerve of this woman. She angered, yet excited me at the same time.

She spat my earlobe to the floor, placed a finger on my bottom lip and stroked it gingerly.

“Go into that room and heal yourself, my love. If you prove my theory correct, I shall give you whatever you want.”

I looked at her like she had lost her mind, but I could not help myself. I grabbed her hips and held her steadfast.

“Your wish is my command. Just promise me one thing.”

“What is it, my love?”

“Do not ever enter that room unless I tell you to. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Now, go.”

I removed Lily from my body and helped her off the floor. My dress shirt had been ruined by all the blood that came from such a trivial injury. I entered the room that held my soul, closed the door, and did not appear for a few hours.

***

“Wait, the painting heals you as well?”

“Impossible, right? But yes, it does… um… well did. I have been with it for so long now, automatic healing is now a perk.”

“I hate to ask this, but can you show me? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s a lot to ask. But if I see something firsthand…”

“The more believable it will be. I get it.”

I rose from the sofa and walked behind the bar. The infamous letter opener I had used during my stint in Times Square was placed on the glass shelving that ordained the wall directly behind the bar. I removed it from its holder and unsheathed it.

I walked back to Christian with it in my right hand. Standing directly in front of the boy, I pierced the skin in the palm of my left hand. I did not stop. I drove the knife clear through until it protruded out the other side. I left it in for a few moments before twisting it. This type of wound for a mortal would result in nerve damage and possible surgery with stitches or staples to close the wound. I removed it.

Christian stared in awe as blood gushed to the floor. I held my hand up in front of his face. He watched as the back of my hand started to close on its own. I turned my hand so he could see my palm. It was doing the same thing. In just a few seconds the wound was completely closed.

I moved my hand normally, showing that I still had full function of it.

“That is unbelievable. Had I not seen it with my own eyes…”

“It took some time to get used to if I am being honest.”

“That is one ability I would not mind having. Your ear healed the same way?”

“The lobe grew back after a few hours. It was slightly uncomfortable.”

“Did Lily approve?”

***

When I walked out of the room and stepped behind Lily who was standing next to my gramophone, she turned quickly when she heard my footsteps stop. She looked me over not once but twice.

“I knew it!”

“My lady is pleased?”

“Your lady is more than pleased. She is relieved! I thought I had seriously hurt you.”

“As you can see, you have not. Fret no more, my dear.”

“What is it my love wants?” Lilly cooed as she stepped into my body.

“I wish to treat my lady to dinner, then I wish to ravish her body in our bed, if she will permit me.”

My heart raced behind my chest waiting for her answer. I desperately wanted the woman standing before me. I would be crushed if she turned me down, but being the perfect gentleman, I would wait if she refused my request.

“As far as the first part of your request it sounds heavenly, and I am absolutely famished. As far as the second part of your request, would you terribly mind if we wait and see how I feel after dinner?”

My heart sunk into my stomach, but I could not let it show. I had loved this woman from the first time I laid on her a mere six short months ago. I wanted to relish how she felt against my bare skin. No barriers. No walls, just us. Carnal and pure. I rang the bell for Bentley and told him what we wanted for dinner. As he left the great room, Lily had placed a record on the gramophone.

It was Beethoven’s Waltz in E-flat major. I returned to her promptly and took her hand in mine.

“Would you do me the honor of giving me this dance?” I asked as I bowed in front of her and kissed the top of her hand.

Lily curtseyed in kind and accepted my invitation. We danced throughout the room until dinner was served.

***

“The courtship continues.”

“We were always like that. We found that reverting back to proper English behavior suited us best. At least while we were inside the house.”

“The evening was a success?”

“It was more than a success. It was heaven.”

For once in my life, it was not all about me . Believe me, I was just as puzzled as you may be about now. My wants and needs did not matter. If I made Lily happy, I would be satisfied. At least momentarily.

Dinner came and went; we made the usual small talk. Lily seemed to be preoccupied.

“What weighs on your mind, my lady?”

“I am just wondering if sleeping with you is such a great idea.”

“Excuse me?” I was not expecting her comment. This was the natural course of events, at least with normal couples. Then again, Lily and I were anything but normal I would later find out.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, believe me I do. It’s just…”

“You haven’t been with anyone else since fuckface George, is that it?”

“Well, yes.”

What Lily did not realize was her answer sent my heart into my throat, and it was beating out of control. Her answer pleased me more than it should have. I would give her anything in the world that she wanted but when it came to my sexual urges, that I had when she was near, she would be the one fulfilling mine, not the other way around. If I could make her into the perfect submissive, my world would be complete.

“And the problem is what exactly?”

“I don’t know if I can please you the way you desire. It’s a bit of a hardship when one has not been with many men.”

Lily outright lied to me. She in fact had been with many men, back when she was Brona. In fact, that was her occupation. She also forgot she had been in my home in London. She sat for a photograph in my great room. I took her against the wall that very day. It seemed I knew more about her in her past life than she remembered about me. Ironic that I would end up and fall in love with a reincarnated version of a sex worker.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Lily’s eyes widened and she stopped chewing the last bit of food on her plate. She was apprehensive as fuck and quite frankly, I did not care. Her actions were starting to bring the beast out in me. One that had not surfaced in a good amount of time.

“Fine, let’s get this awkwardness over with.”

Lily threw her napkin that was in her lap onto her plate, scooted her chair back and stomped up the stairs like a spoiled child. I had to play this right with her. I could not go sadistic on her. Not yet. I took a few deep breaths to clear my head before I headed up. When I reached our bedroom, I found Lily sitting on the couch in the corner of the room, stark naked. She really did not want me to have any fun. That was not about to stop me, I wanted to see what she made of at least a little bit.

I walked towards her, stripping my clothes along the way. Once in front of her, I took her head in my hands and kissed her deeply, passionately. She moaned as I did so, letting her hands run across my chest. The feel of her hands on my body sprung my cock to life. I was not fully hard yet, but I would be soon.

The longer I kissed her, the more I became aroused. Soon, my hardness was resting on the inner thigh of her left leg. I lowered my head breaking our kiss and began circling my tongue around her nipples, taking turns between them both.

“Oooh, yes, Dorian.”

I took a nipple in my mouth, sucking it, biting it, and switched to the other doing the same thing. I put my knee between her legs and rested it on the mattress to steady myself. Before long I felt dampness on the cap of my knee. I looked down and realized it had come from Lily.

I was not done teasing her. I wanted to see how easily she orgasmed. I circled and pinched her clit with my right hand. Her orgasm started but I did not stop. I played with her clit a few more seconds and worked both my hands outward. They touched her milky thighs. I took my fingers and traced small circles closer and closer to her pussy and then reversed the action.

As Lily’s head fell backward in bliss, I plunged a finger into her wetness without warning. Just as she moaned in pleasure, I removed it quickly. She gasped in surprise. I had enough. I wanted to taste my Honeysuckle. I slowly lowered myself in front of her until my mouth was level with her mound. She kept herself neatly trimmed. The carpet did not match the drapes. My tongue reached out and gently flicked her clit.

Her constant moans of pleasure egged me on, and I flicked her button harder.

Again, without warning, I inserted my tongue into her pleasure zone. I pushed it in deeper and deeper with every inward thrust until she screamed out in pleasure. She saturated my face with her juices. Once I helped her through her orgasm, I stood up and kissed her so she could taste herself on my lips.

Just to fuck with her, I turned around and was about to leave the room.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“You acted like a spoiled child when you came up here. I’m not pushing the issue.” I said it with a slight irritation to my voice to see what she would do.

“But I must reward you for, giving me so much pleasure, my love.”

I had to keep myself from laughing out loud at her. Had she dared to try to become the dominant? That was not going to happen. Not with me.

“Oh, my lady, what you are about to do is not classified as a reward. It is your duty to me.”

She stood up from the couch and walked over to where I stood. Once in front of me she lowered to her knees. I must admit, I loved seeing her in that position. She stared wide-eyed at my unit. I was bigger than she expected, not only in length but in girth.

Without skipping a beat, she took as much of me as she could into her mouth until I hit the back of her throat. She gagged a small bit but ignored it and started bobbing up and down on my rock-hard cock. She slowly took me out of her mouth as she swirled her tongue up and down my length. The feel of her tongue was exquisite, and I was about to come. I could not hold out, not with her.

Once I was back inside her warm, eager mouth I began to pump, hitting the back of her throat. What she did next, I did not expect. She bit down on my shaft quickly. Not too hard and not too soft. I let out a guttural growl and my seed exploded into her, catching me off guard. She swallowed every bit of my seed, then licked the remains off my dick before she popped me out of her mouth.

Without asking any questions, or waiting for the moment to end, I picked Lily up from the floor and carried her to our bed. I tossed her roughly and haphazardly onto the bedspread. My body was instantly on hers. I should have gone easier with her, but she brought out the animal in me when she brought out her teeth.

In one hard movement, I penetrated her. I was balls deep. I looked at her to see if she was okay. Tears of pain streamed down her face. I did not care. A little pain with pleasure never hurts anyone. Not ultimately.

The more I pumped, the more she relaxed. With every stroke her inner walls contracted around me pulling me in deeper. If that were even possible. Our tempo increased. The headboard was banging against the wall like a shotgun.

I was about to come and began to pull myself out of her. Babies were not on my agenda.

“No, it’s okay. I’m on the pill.”

I did not listen to her. I was not about to take the chance of having any mini-Dorians running around. Not that I did not want kids, I did; however, outliving them should not occur. Selfish? Probably. The right thing to do? Most definitely.

I continued to push into my Honeysuckle until her orgasm hit. Once it did, I pulled out of her upon protest and shot my seed onto her stomach, and immediately rolled over onto my back. Yeah, I am an asshole. That part would never change.

I turned my head and looked at Lily. She stayed quiet and stared at the ceiling. She looked bored, or irritated. I could not be sure of which.

“What’s the matter?” I finally asked when she had not said anything.

“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

One thing I learned over my many years in existence is when those three little words fell from any woman’s lips, things were anything but fine.

I sighed heavily, sat up against the headboard and spoke, ready to accept defeat.

“No, it’s not. Are you going to tell me? Or do I just pretend right along with you.”

“That just wasn’t what I expected is all. I thought there would be more passion. More feeling. It reminded me of…”

“Don’t you fucking say his name in this bed! And furthermore, NEVER compare me to that fuckwad! I am not, nor will I ever be HIM!”

I did not wait for Lily to explain herself; I quickly picked my clothes up from the floor after I bolted out of bed. I slammed the bathroom door shut and quickly dressed. I flung the door back open to see Lily sitting upright with a dumbstruck look on her face.

“What did I say that was so wrong?”

“You spoiled, ungrateful bitch of a woman. If you don’t know what you said, it’s not my job to tell you! Stay away from me until you figure it out. When you do realize your mistake, we’ll talk. I’ll sleep in another room until you do!”

I left abruptly. When the door slammed behind me, I could not help but don the smallest of smirks. One way or the other, she would accept the fact that I was the dominant one in the relationship. Not her. Ever.

***

“How did that work out for ya?” Christian asked when I calmed down. Just reliving my time with her made my blood boil. But she was a necessary part of my story.

“It worked out fine. She came to me a few days later, apologized for comparing me to her complete asshole of a former lover, and we were great.”

“Well, in all fairness, you were one too.”

“I never said I wasn’t. I have been my whole life. That never changed. Not really.”

“Is that what drove you and Lily apart eventually?”

“No. We were great for the first year of our relationship. We became quite a socialite couple. We attended charity events, parties, after parties, Broadway shows. Our pictures were in every gossip column in existence during that time. Things started to change the second year into our relationship.”

“How so?”

“By nineteen eighty-three the sex industry had found a new way to make money. Since the live venues and such had been closed, girls needed a new way to make a living. VHS and video production.”

“But home videos had been popular since the seventies.”

“Yes, but only in the privacy of one’s home. By the eighties, it was a lucrative business. Former sex workers were transformed into porn stars. Easiest money on the planet.”

“I’m guessing Lily took offense somewhere along the way?”

“I was never sure why, until later. But she hated it from the beginning. I never had one in the house, nor watched any of it.”

“Did she ever find out about your extracurricular activities of the past?”

“She did, but only because those activities inadvertently crossed paths within our own life.”

“What the fuck?” Christian asked as he switched tapes in the recorder.

“I know, right? No matter how hard someone believes they have changed they never really do. Not deep down. The skeletons are never truly extinguished, they are just pushed aside to rise from the darkness another day.”

“I’m not quite sure I understand.”

“You will by the time I finish telling you of Lily and me.”

The breakfast buffet that had been displayed for hours now had run its course. I had Bentley remove it from our line of sight. We had eaten so much; dinner was not on the planning board.

“Can I get you anything before we continue? A refreshment of some sort?” I asked as I stood to stretch my legs.

“This will sound weird, but would you mind if I tried one of those London Fog things?”

I chuckled a little bit. Christian was wise beyond his years but childlike at the same time. His curiosity about things made him the best in the business with his craft. Aside from the fact that he was mortal, he reminded me of myself when I was his age.

“Sure, anything you want.”

Two London Fogs were placed on the coffee table with freshly baked lavender scones minutes later. Christian took his tea and a scone and sat back at his workstation. I watched as he took a sip.

“Oh. My. God. This is amazing!”

“I will give you a tip. Big chain coffee shops can’t make them. Go to the smaller mom and pop ones. They do a decent job with them.”

“I will keep that in mind. Thank you!”

“You are welcome.”

“Okay. What was the one event that caused things to start changing with you and Lily?”

***

As I stated earlier. The sex industry rebranded itself. Producers started filming sex tapes for mass production to be viewed in the privacy of one’s own home. Seeing that it was a more lucrative business, some sex workers broke free of their pimps and went independent, and some were still strapped by their pimps, wanting their cut of the profits.

Lily had gone into town one day on her own. This was mid nineteen eighty-four. She said she needed some alone time, to clear her head. She ended up in Times Square. For what reason, I never found out. She never told me. She claimed to have overheard two men talking of an underground auction. This specific auction dealt with young women.

***

“Wow! Did they sell women for trade then?”

“I wouldn’t have thought so, but everyone has their kinks, and if money can be made…”

“I get it. Lily must have been livid.”

“That was an understatement. What happened next, I was not prepared for.”

“ Dorian, we cannot allow this to happen.”

“Lily, it’s none of our business. People do shady shit all the time.”

“I can’t let these women be sold as sexual slaves, Dorian. Women are not men’s property!”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but some may not see it that way.”

Lily’s face turned a deep shade of crimson out of anger.

“Is that how you see it, Dorian? Women are on this earth to be play toys for men?”

“If it is against their will, absolutely, not. If both parties agree…”

“I can’t fucking believe you right now!”

Lily stormed away from me and looked out the window by the French doors.

“How old is this woman?” I asked her as I slinked up behind her.

“They claim she is fifteen years old, Dorian. I can’t allow this.”

I could see her point. Fifteen was a little young to be thrust into the corrupt world of debauchery.

“What do you suggest we do? Rescue her and kill the scum that went to bid on her?”

I said it haphazardly. I did not think she would agree to such a ludicrous plan. Not to mention the fact I had no idea how we could pull something like that off.

“That’s a perfect plan!! Let’s go, right now. The auction starts in an hour. This girl is the first one showcased.”

“Wait just a minute. How do you suggest we get rid of these men? Can’t we just outbid them all and take this girl?”

I had not killed in a few years. Honestly, I had no desire to start again. I had worked hard to keep that monster at bay.

“No. Those men must pay for what they have done. We will figure it out once we get there.”

Before I knew it, we were rushing out the door, and I was driving to the underbelly of New York.

***

“Underbelly of New York?” Christian asked as he popped the last piece of scone in his mouth.

“Alphabet City.”

“And where exactly was it located?”

I admired Christian’s eye for detail. He left nothing out. I felt like a history teacher throughout this entire process.

“It was and still is, a neighborhood located within the East Village in the Manhattan borough. It got its name from Avenues A, B, C, and D. They are the only avenues in Manhattan to have single-letter names. The area is bordered by Houston Street to the south and 14th Street to the north and extends roughly from Avenue A to the East River.”

“What was Alphabet City known for then?”

“It was a place where junkies and dealers came to play.”

“What was the addiction?”

“At that time, heroin. A perfect place for upstanding men of society to claim their sex toys and whatever other things they chose to indulge in.”

“I see. And where was this auction held?”

“In an underground strip club that had been abandoned when the undesirables took over.”

***

The entrance to the building in question faced away from the alley that it bucked up against. It looked like two separate worlds. The side we were on was deemed safe. As soon as you crossed into the alley, you took your life in your own hands. I was uncomfortable as shit and Lily noticed.

“We will make this quick, my love. I promise.”

The quickness of our mission would be decided when we sized up the room in which we were to enter. We had no idea what we were up against. For all we knew there could be fifty men bidding on the same girl.

Lily and I had agreed that if the crowd were too big, we would go with my backup plan of bidding on the girl ourselves. We entered the establishment, gave our reasons for being there, and were escorted to a back room.

Much to my surprise, and relief, only four other men came in. One was the man who had put the girl, who had yet to be seen, up for sale in the first place. Lily looked at me and nodded her head. The original plan was to be put into play. Kill them all and rescue the girl.

***

“Not what you intended, am I right?”

“No. So I played it off. I had no intention of killing anyone that night. Lily wanted it that way, so I would let her do it.”

“Wow, tested her from the time you met her it seems.”

“I did, I won’t lie. She talked the talk, a lot. I wanted to see if she had what it took to walk the walk.”

***

Lily and I kept our composure, then the room darkened from outside sources. A man, shrouded in black robes escorted a frail, naked girl into the middle of the room. She was a mere child. You could tell by the way she was built. Once she was situated for all to see, the man in black disappeared from where he came from.

The lights illuminated the room once again and the girl’s former Master held a huge smile on her face. Lily voiced her opinion.

“What made you bring this mere child here?”

The rotund man who had olive skin, a bald head, and the most clownish mustache I had ever seen on a person, chuckled before he spoke.

“Quite frankly, I have grown tired of her. She has the makings to be a good submissive, but I have grown impatient with training her.”

Lily shifted in her seat. She was becoming unnerved. She stood abruptly and walked over to the girl. Placing her hand under her chin, Lily forced the girl to look at her.

“Keep your hands off the merchandise until bidding is over!” the girl’s Master grabbed a chain from the floor and yanked on it hard, causing his toy to fall to the ground.

Lily ignored the demands of the brutish man. She again placed her hand under the girl’s chin and brought her head up to her level after she crouched on the floor with her.

“What is your name, child?”

“Katarina… Kat,” she said in a barely audible voice.

“Kat, I need you to close your eyes until I tell you to open them. Is that understood?”

Kat nodded her head in response. Lily went right to work. She removed the hairpin from her curly locks of hair. The pin doubled as a dagger. Methodically she went around the half circle of men that came to bid on Kat and quickly stabbed and twisted the jugulars of all but one.

Kat’s Master sat in horror as he watched the other three men bleed out to their deaths.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You will never get away with this!”

“It appears I already have. Let go of Kat’s chain and hand over the key.”

“I will do no such thing!”

Lily was behind him in a flash. She held the dagger to his throat.

“I said, let go of her chain and give me the fucking key!”

The Master did as he was told under duress. Lily threw me the key and I unshackled Kat and helped her stand. I put my coat over her body. She stayed where I left her staring at my chest. She refused to look up.

“Kat, darling. Turn around.”

Kat did as she was instructed without hesitation. Lily joined her in the middle of the room. “What do you see?”

“A sick excuse of a man,” Kat responded after she raised her head slightly.

“What else?”

“I see a man who uses women for his own sick perversion.”

Lily held her arm that held the dagger out so Kat could see it in her peripheral. I had no idea where this was going, so I stayed silent.

“Look at the man who chained you. Look at the man who abused you. Refused to feed you. Refused to treat you the way a child should be treated.”

The more Lily spoke to Kat, the more Kat’s face turned from one of innocence to one of utter hatred.

“Give the man what he deserves, Kat. Free yourself of him completely. Don’t let him do this to another woman.”

Kat screamed out of anger, grabbed the dagger from Lily’s hand and stabbed her former Master in the chest. She withdrew the blade and stabbed again. She kept stabbing until Lily finally stopped her. Blood covered Kat’s face, my coat, and splattered on her torso where my coat would not cover with her movements.

Lily took the blade from Kat’s hand, wiped the blood on the man’s pants and placed it back in her hair.

“Now, turn and look the man before you in the eye.”

“Why, he’s just another man.”

“He is the man that just saved your life, child. You owe him some respect.”

Kat raised her head and looked at me for the first time since we’d been there. She surmised right then that she did not like me.

“I do not like him. I will do your bidding, but not his. Never his.”

“No need to worry about that. He is off limits to you.”

We left the back room to find two other girls that had been placed for sale. This was something I had not counted on. I turned to Lily and gave her a look of disdain. I spoke trying to lighten the mood.

“Rest assured, your night of embarrassment and misery is over, and will never happen again. Where can we drop you ladies?”

Lily grabbed my right arm, digging her fingers in as she pulled me to the side.

“We are not dropping them anywhere. They come home with us.”

“What now?”

“They come home with us, for a few days. End of story.”

Before I could respond, she walked away from me and centered herself amongst the girls telling them of their fate for the next few nights.

***

“I guess Lily took charge there.”

“Unfuckingbelievable. Right? This was not part of the plan, at least not on my end of things. I was not prepared to turn my home into a wayward place for women. I had enough space to do so, but for Lily to openly defy me the way she did, pissed me the fuck off.”

“I can see why. That was uncalled for. They did leave after a few days though, right?”

I shot Christian a look that told him otherwise.

***

One month later, three women turned into twenty. Two months later, twenty increased to thirty. Lily had something planned. It was more than obvious but I was out of the loop on things. I found myself sleeping alone more often, and conversations were held in secret. That was until a voluptuous woman named Theresa entered our home.

She was gorgeous. Long, strawberry blonde hair, curves in all the right places and tits that would make a bullfrog stand and take notice. Even though Lily’s attention was diverted from me, the moment I noticed another woman, the claws came out. She stopped her conversation with Kat and was immediately by my side.

“Theresa, welcome to our home. Make yourself comfortable. If there’s anything you need, please let us know.”

Theresa walked off, still watching the two of us.

“What the fuck was all that?” I asked when Theresa was out of earshot.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“You ignore me pretty much for a month, now you’re all over me like flies on shit.”

“I don’t like it when you look at other women.”

“How can I not? My house is full of them!”

“Oh, so now it’s your house!”

Lily raised her voice a little too much. Kat was by her side in an instant.

“Is he causing a problem, Miss Lily? I can fix it for you.”

“No, Kat. Just a minor disagreement is all.”

Kat had enough balls to walk up to me and stare me down.

“You disrespect Lily one more time, I swear to Christ I will kill you.”

Kat turned on her heel and walked away. I would have loved to see her make good on her threat right then, only to see her efforts fail miserably.

“I’m sorry for not giving you the attention you deserve, my love. I have been preoccupied with other things. What if I made it up to you? Tonight.”

I could see the wheels turning in Lily’s head. Forever up to something. I just hope this something was worth my while.

“What did you have in mind, my lady?”

“That will be a surprise. Meet me up in our room at nine.”

***

“It sounds like you were getting bored with Lily.”

“Far from it. Look, I admire a woman who is strong and passionate about things. The thing that put me off was the fact that she didn’t include me in any of it.”

“Because you’re a narcissist?”

“That’s obvious. But I missed the connection we once had. We were growing apart and it was by her own doing.”

“Did you try to salvage things?”

“On a daily basis. It would either result in her telling me she would spend time with me later, or doors would be slammed in my face.”

“Harsh.”

“Very. “

“She did make it up to you, didn’t she?”

“She did.”

***

At nine o’clock I stood outside the door to my room and softly knocked on it. I heard no response from inside, so I opened it and entered the room. My eyes went immediately to the bed where I expected to see my Honeysuckle. What I found almost brought me to my knees.

Not only was Lily stark naked in our bed, but Theresa was as well. They were both engaged in a heated kiss.

I undressed and joined them, breaking their kiss and flopping on the bed in between them.

“Are you surprised, baby?” Lily cooed in my ear, teasingly kissing it, while Theresa grabbed my throbbing cock and began stroking it with her hand.

“I am, my lady. I had not expected this.”

“What would you like, my love?”

Forever testing, Lily. I asked for the unthinkable. I wanted to see what she could handle when it came to my kinks. If we were to continue our relationship, I needed her to know that there may be a third party involved occasionally. Sometimes it would be another woman, and if she so desired, I would involve another man. One that I approved of, not one that she chose on her own.

***

I had to take a small break before I finished telling the story. Reliving it caused certain side-effects. I hoped Christian had not noticed. I shifted uncomfortably on the sofa until I was able to put myself in a position that relieved the tension that was building in my jeans.

“You, okay?” Christian asked out of concern.

“I am. Nothing that can’t be dealt with at a later time.”

“Okay, pick up whenever you’re ready.”

A few deep breaths later, I was ready to let the story unfold.

“Where were we?” I asked when my hard on subsided.

“Testing Lily…again.”

***

“Tell me, my love. What do you want?”

Lily hoped that I would tell her that I wanted to fuck her and her alone. The opposite was in fact true. Theresa’s curves turned me on more than they should have. Her ample breasts would never fit in my hand, but I had a desire to hold them as she bounced up and down on my cock. The more Theresa stroked me, the quicker a stream of precum oozed out.

“I want Theresa on top of me, fucking my brains out, is what I want.”

Lily stopped cooing in my ear. If she was put off by my comment, she did not react as such. She moved to the end of the bed and helped place Theresa in the appropriate spot. I found it to be a turn on.

Before Theresa guided my shaft into her waiting cunt, Lily took her fingertips of her right hand, straddled my legs, positioned Theresa so she was leaning against her own body and began to rub Theresa’s clit that had poked itself out from under its hood.

The more Lily played; the higher Theresa’s knees lifted from the bed. I could not help myself. I plunged two fingers into her slit and curved them, letting them rub against her g-spot as I vigorously moved my hand.

I felt Theresa’s muscles contract around my fingers. I wanted to prolong her experience.

“Lily, stop playing.”

Lily immediately stopped and I removed my fingers from Theresa’s now dripping pussy. She moaned in agony as her orgasm had been interrupted.

“Please, don’t stop. Let me fuck you,” Theresa said through labored breath.

“Suck my dick first while I service my lady.”

Theresa moved herself so Lily could straddle my face. As intoxicating as Theresa was, she was not skilled in the art of fellatio. It did not matter; I was focused on Lily’s sweet pussy that I so desperately missed. I ate her like she was my last meal. She squirmed and moaned above me until she exploded her sweet nectar into my mouth and down my throat.

Lily had finished and was gasping for breath. Without a care in the world and being completely selfish, Theresa pushed Lily off my face and forcefully put my cock inside her. Still coming down from the high of tasting my beloved after so long, my body instinctively took over.

I raised my pelvis off the bed matching her down strokes, causing me to bottom out within her. Her moans soon turned to yelps of pain. By that point, there was no going back for me. I would make her come, but not until I came first, the only way I could. If I hurt her, she would get over it.

Lily had slinked behind Theresa once again and started playing with her nipples. I held myself steady by pressing my fingers into Theresa’s hips. She yelped in pain. She would be bruised the next morning. Again, I did not care. My release was coming sooner than Theresa’s. I moaned in pleasure as I pumped my load into her.

Theresa continued to ride up and down on my cock. It stayed hard but for all intents and purposes I was finished. As Theresa was about to climax, Lily pulled something from under the far-right corner of the bed. It had been hidden under a folded corner of the bedspread.

Theresa threw her head back as her orgasm was about to hit, as soon as she did, Lily took the dagger that doubled as her hair pin and slit Theresa’s throat from left to right. Blood fell like a waterfall from Theresa, subsequently landing on my chest, and soaking the entire bed. Lily pushed her off me and curled up next to me.

“You will never put your dick in another woman. Do you understand me?” What I admitted to Lily next, surprised even me.

“What happens if we have more encounters like this?”

“What, threesomes?”

“Yes, with this same ending? Do you know how turned on I am right now?”

“I will think about it. In the meantime, fuck me until I can no longer stand it.”

I kissed Lily deeply as I spread Theresa’s blood all over her body.

***

“How many scenarios did you have like that?”

“Unfortunately, for me, just the one. We were nearing Christmas. She was all about decorating the house and tending to the girls’ every need.”

“That sucks. Did you ever try to sneak off?”

“You would think I could, but Kat watched my every move. If Lily ever allowed her to, she would kill me and not think twice.”

“But you can’t be killed.”

“Lily and I knew that. The other girls didn’t. Not initially.”

“What do you mean, not initially?”

“There was another event that pretty much sealed my fate with Lily.”

“Was it Lily’s ultimate doing?”

“No, it was not. You may need something stronger to drink for this part of the story.”

“Don’t move, I’ll get it. Whiskey?”

“Have you had absinthe before?”

“No. It sounds interesting from everything you have said about it.”

“Grab it from behind the bar. Tall bottle, black label, melon green color.”

Christian walked behind the bar and looked among the ranks of alcohol I held. He whistled his approval.

“There are some things you can no longer find back here.”

“Everything can be found if you know where to look, my friend.”

“I suppose that’s true. What else do we need for this concoction?”

“Two tumbler glasses… you will also see a spoon with small holes in it.”

“I see it.”

“Bring that as well with the box of sugar cubes that are in the airtight container to your left.”

Christian somehow managed to carry all the supplies out from the bar and to the coffee table. I took the bottle of absinthe out from under his arm as he set the last of the supplies down.

“Now, before we start the process, I need a bottle of room temperature water.”

“What for?”

“You’ll see.”

Bottled water was never part of the original process of preparing absinthe. Back in London, there was a device that would warm the water in an urn type vessel. Once the water heated, one would twist the handle to the spigot and the water would precisely drip onto the sugar cube causing it to melt. The sweet goodness would then flow through the small holes in the spoon effortlessly into the green elixir below. But you had to make do with what you had. And that is exactly what I did.

Christian handed me a bottle of water, then turned and grabbed his recorder with extra tapes and placed it in front of him on the table, then sat on the floor.

“Is the chair becoming uncomfortable? I can have it changed out.”

“No, it’s fine. I felt like sitting in a different spot is all.”

Christian watched intently as I prepared our spirits. He was amazed that someone would go to such lengths to prepare such a thing that seemed so simple.

“I must tell you. Once the process is complete, it is imperative that you do NOT swallow this in one shot. It will knock you on your ass.”

Christian laughed and held up three fingers.

“Scouts honor, I will not swallow the whole thing.”

A guttural laugh escaped me. The more I was in the company of Christian, the more attractive he was becoming. Everything about my feelings was wrong. He was here in a professional capacity. I could not let those fine lines be crossed. Or could I? Either way, those boundaries would not be crossed this night. I knew what the absinthe would do to him, and I would not take advantage of him in an impaired state. Yet another ironic situation I found myself in, given my past.

It seemed my skeletons were jockeying for position much like horses would in a race. Only the lucky one made it to the finish line.

Our absinthe was finished. All the sugar had dissolved. Christian picked his up as I did mine. He waited to see what I would do next. I swirled the glass a tad so the sugar could infuse with the elixir. Christian followed suit.

“Remember, sip it.”

Christian did as I told him. When he swallowed the green fluid and waited a few moments, he felt the effects.

“Holy, fuck. You weren’t kidding about the numbing part. Now I see why you sip it.”

“Are you okay to continue?”“I am.” Christian pressed record on his device, yet again.

***

After my encounter with Lily and Theresa. Lily distanced herself even more from me. Questions circulated around the house as to the whereabouts of the “new girl”. Rumors had also been spread that I had killed her, just for the sake of killing and reaffirming my dominance. Lily diffused the situation before it got out of hand by telling the girls that she had left of her own accord.

They believed her. They believed every fucking word she said. It was like I was not even there. Had I been the one to say Theresa had left, all hell would have broken loose.

New Year’s Eve was upon us, nineteen eighty-four was coming to an end, and Lily threw an over-the-top party for the girls. I had more money than God, so I cared less about that. You cannot take it with you when you depart from this earth, so I continued to spoil my lady.

All the girls were having a good time when Lily stood on the dining room table. She walked back and forth as she spoke.

“Ladies, may I have you attention please?”

The ladies stopped talking immediately. The silence that resonated from the room was eerie. You could hear a pin drop if someone chose to let one loose from their grasp.

“Ladies, this is the dawn of a new year, a new age. I have heard what you have told me. I have listened to your concerns. The time to move is now, ladies. Now is the time to seek our revenge. Be the women we were intended to be!”

A round of applause erupted around the table. I was still sitting at the head of it and had no fucking clue what Lily was talking about. I thought she had consumed too much champagne.

“Lily, my love, sit down before you hurt yourself.”

She turned on me hard and fast, like a snake striking its prey. She stomped to the end of the table where I was sitting and got down on all fours. She leaned into me until our noses touched.

“I do NOT take orders from you!”

Lily turned from me then and crawled halfway down the table before resting her body on her heels.

“Ladies, for the plan to work properly. I need to know that I can trust you. I need tokens of your allegiance.”

What the fuck was this woman talking about? She had completely gone off the deep end, or so I thought.

“What tokens would those be, Lady Lily?” Of course, it was Kat that spoke up first. That little bitch followed her every move.

“I want you to go out, visit a man who had humiliated you in the past and bring me back their pinky finger. Right or left hand, I don’t care which. Just bring them to me and place them in the middle of this very table when finished.”

“This may take some time, Mistress.” Again, it was Kat who spoke.

“I have all night, ladies. Do what you will.”

When Lily finished speaking, the women left, including Kat, to do her bidding.

“What on earth are you trying to accomplish here, Lily?”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet, my love?”

“No, I haven’t, and I live here!”

“It’s quite simple, my love. I want world dominance.”

“By controlling women?”

“I will amass an army of women if that’s what it takes! We will be victims no more!”

I had nothing to say. I sat there stoic and perplexed. Had I heard her, right? I must have. She hopped off the table, walked over to me, kissed my forehead and went upstairs.

***

“Was this her idea of a new woman’s movement?”

“I suspect it was. With the way Victor rewired her brain I could never be sure what she was thinking. She was sweet and vulnerable most of the time but that last year she turned into a completely different…”

“Monster?” Christian suggested.

“Person. Although she was hinging on the unstable.”

“You must have been going out of your mind.”

“I was. I was sexually frustrated, and I was at my wit’s end. Imagine having a plethora of pussy in your home and you can do nothing with it? Not to mention the love of your life wanted nothing to do with you because her own plans interfered with everything.”

“I’m not sure I could deal with that.”

“By the time that night was over, I had had enough. I lost control somewhere, and I didn’t like it. It was not so much not being the center of attention, although that was a factor. It was largely because the guests in my home had no respect for me. They had forgotten that if it weren’t for me, they would not be living as lavishly as they were.”

“How long did your relationship continue after that night?”

“Six more months. Lily kept telling me she would change when it came to me. She kept telling me that she would get the girls to respect me, as she agreed that if it weren’t for me opening my home, they would have nowhere else to go.”

“Did she ultimately change?”

“Would you be utterly surprised if I told you no?”

“No, not in the slightest. Something tells me she never wanted to change.”

“She told me some things before she left that will blow your mind. There was more to her thought process than what I had initially thought. She was not the dimwitted, subservient blonde I hoped she would be.”

“Can we put this on hold for a sec… the little boy’s room is calling.”

“Absolutely.”

Christian stood from the floor, caught his bearings, and moved toward the downstairs restroom. He glanced at the door that led to where my painting was stored. Would I show him what it looked like? Maybe, if he really wanted to know. I found myself watching his form as he made his way across the floor. The more I watched him, the more attractive he became. Had I planned it to happen? No, I did not. But you cannot control those to whom you become attracted. No matter how hard you try.

The way he walked, upright and confident, was impressive. Most men his age walked slouched over and were uninterested in everything. Eyes always on their cellphones. To say he piqued my interest was an understatement. My loins told me otherwise. I would have to play this off a while longer before I approached the subject with him. I did not want to ruin the professional relationship we had.

As Christian came out of the restroom, he was running his fingers through his hair. The way his hair looked afterward made me come unglued. The way it was slightly unkempt. Lord have mercy. I had to finish Lily’s story before I even considered starting a new one with this boy. This man. Christian plopped himself back on the floor and motioned for me to continue with Lily.

***

Those last six months with Lily were a downright pain in my ass. The “tokens of allegiance” went from pinky fingers to hands, and they all ended up in the middle of my antique banquet table we used to feast from.

Lily’s morals were becoming less desirable by the day. Again, ironic since mine had been in question not too long ago. The night the hands were placed on the table, Lily grew bored. She announced to the group that she was going out for the evening and would be back by morning. I had no idea where she went. I had no idea when she would be home.

I suspected she was going out late at night to pick up other men to kill them. Too many headlines in the papers coincided with the nights she went out. “Esteemed Banker Found Dead in Hotel Room.” “Prominent Plastic Surgeon: Victim of His Own Blade.” It all made sense.

Kat, the loyal subject of Lily, started an argument with me as soon as Lily left. I tried to ignore her until she was up in my face.

“I say we kill you and make it look like an accident. Lily has not been happy with you for a while.”

I stood from the corner chair I was sitting in abruptly. The noise that was made caught the attention of the other women in the room. Kat ran to the banquet table and grabbed a carving knife. She held it straight out in front of her.

I was tired of the game. I was tired of the charade. I did something that would surely make them think twice about crossing me. I walked towards Kat. The closer I got, the more she tried to warm me off.

“I swear to God, you lay one hand on me I will stick this knife straight through you!”

I ignored her warnings and continued my journey toward her. Instead of stopping when I reached the point of the knife, I waited until the tip pierced my skin, took a deep breath, and walked the length of it. When I stopped walking, the only thing visible was its handle. The blade, buried deep into my chest cavity. A good two inches of the blade pierced through my back.

Without looking, Kat turned to the women and shouted “The bastard is finally dead! Now we can run this house in the manner it should be!”

Kat did not receive the reaction she hoped. Instead, she got the fright of her life.

“Before you make idle threats, make sure your enemy is dead.”

Kat turned like a snake on her heel and looked at me with the widest pair of eyes I had ever seen. I stepped backwards and held my arms out to my sides, and turned in a circle ensuring she would get the full effect.

“This is impossible. You can’t be…”

“Can’t be what kitten? Still breathing? Still standing? Still talking?”

Thinking that by removing the blade I would fall to my feet, Kat forcefully removed the knife from my body, again hoping for a reaction she did not get. I did not falter, I did not drop to the floor, and the blood that expelled from my body, while substantial, eventually stopped.

I held my shirt open so she could see the fact that I had healed right in front of her. She stood, frozen in place, until I was back in front of her.

“You look scared, kitten.”

“I’m not afraid of you!” Despite her best efforts at bravery, her bottom lip quivered as she spoke to me.

“You should be.”

Before she could react, I knocked the knife out of her hand, grabbed the very same arm and held her close to my body with hers facing outward. She scanned the room full of women, frantically pleading for help. None came. They just looked on as if it was a normal course of their day.

“When Lily hears about this…”

“What? What do you honestly think she is going to do, kill me? That’s an impossible task to accomplish.”

“She will hate you for the rest of her days.”

“She does now. Again, how is that relevant?”

“She loves me!”

“She only loves herself! Kitten, make sure your claws are sharpened before you whip them out to cut people. Maybe you will have better luck in the afterlife.”

Without warning, I twisted her neck to the right. It was slow, and painful. When I heard the telltale sign of bones breaking and detaching themselves from her brain stem, I let her fall to the floor.

The other women in the room went about their gossiping and drama induced conversations. That was the last straw for me. I bellowed at the top of my lungs.

“Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. House!!”

“We ain’t leavin’ until Lily says! This is her house!” One of the bitches that was relatively new, had balls to speak to me that way.

“Lily does not OWN this house. I OWN this house. Get the fuck out and get out now or suffer the same fate as your sister here.” I pointed to Kat lying in a heap on the floor.

“What about our things?” the same bitch asked.

“You came in with nothing, you leave with nothing. I OWN everything you have here. You are not entitled to it. GET THE FUCK OUT!!!”

Pandemonium ensued. Women scattered everywhere and they all but trampled each other trying to get to the front door. Did I feel bad that I had displaced them in the middle of winter? Nope. Did I care that they had no warm clothing? Not in the least. As soon as they walked down a few blocks out of the neighborhood, some man would try to pick them up. They would either accept their offers or freeze to death in the night. I did not care what they did, just as long as they left my home for good.

Bentley cleared the carnage from the buffet table, removed Kat from the floor and brought me dinner that I could eat without having the feeling of hurling my guts out. What he did with Kat’s body I never knew, nor did I care. I had peace and quiet for the first time in a very long time. Things were right in my world again, momentarily.

***

“Lily must have been a force when she returned.”

“She was not pleasant, that’s for sure.”

***

Lily returned home the following morning as I anticipated she would. I sat in the chair at the head of my table the entire night waiting for her. She walked through the front door and knew something was off. The house was too quiet, and Kat, who usually greeted her every time she came home, was not there.

“Dorian!”

I let her call my name a few times before I gave up my location.

“I’m in here, my lady.”

“Dorian, where is everyone? Where are my girls?”

“They aren’t here.”

“I can see that, shit for brains. Where did they go?”

“I kicked them out.”

“You did what!!”

“You heard me, I kicked them out.”

“Kat would have killed you for attempting to do that.”

“Oh, she tried. But failed miserably. You seemed to have forgotten that we are immortal. Your girls, were not.”

“We could have turned them, Dorian. We could have had an army like us. We could have ruled all of New York. Hell, we could have ruled the world.”

I stood from the chair flabbergasted from what was coming out of her mouth at that moment.

“Do you hear yourself? Have you lost your fucking mind? You can’t just make someone immortal, Lily. It’s impossible!”

“We’re immortal! How can you say that!”

“Wrong, Lily. I am immortal, the devil saw to that. You… you are just one lucky experiment out of many failed ones.”

Lily slapped me hard across the face. I did not move.

“You son of a bitch! How could you say that! To me, of all people! You know what I went through to become who I am.”

“Therein lies the cold hard truth, Lily. You never really changed. You stayed the same. The only difference is you received a makeover. You, like all of Victor’s other monsters, will eventually meet your death.”

“And you will live forever alone and unloved in this big empty house with only your paintings to keep you company.”

“You may be right, Lily. But at least I will still try to find love for the right reasons not the wrong ones, and not for my own personal gain.”

“You are a cruel man, Dorian Gray.”

“And you, Lily Crawford, are a woman I no longer wish to see. Get out.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I said, get out!”

“What of my things?”

I pointed to the suitcase that she seemed to have overlooked by the front door. The next comment she made showed her true colors.

“This is not everything. I have too much stuff for just one suitcase, Dorian.”

“No, the contents inside are accurate. You will leave with what you came with.”

I let her keep the jewelry she wore. She thought it was real, but when she went to pawn it or sell it, she would find out the items were nothing but glass. Had she proved herself to be the perfect submissive and not undermined everything I tried to do for her, real jewels would have been replacements. But that day, sadly, never came.

“You will want me back, Dorian. They all want me back, eventually.”

“Hell would have to freeze over first.”

Lily regained whatever composure she had left. She walked to the door, picked up her feeble suitcase and walked out of my life forever.

***

Christian stayed silent. He had no words. At least none that he found fitting for the moment. The truth of the matter was I did not want him to say anything. They say love makes you do stupid things. In this case, whoever said it was right. I gave up my home, my privacy but most importantly, I gave up who I was just to be loved by a woman whom I thought loved me the same way.

“I’m sorry. That had to hurt. A lot.” Christian finally said after a few moments.

“Live and learn, is all I can say.”

“I can tell by the way you spoke of her. She broke your heart.”

“I won’t lie. She did but it wasn’t because of the things she did. She was more like me in that respect. It was because she could not and would not love me the way I loved her.”

“Did you ever find love like that? Like you wanted?”

“I thought I did, but it wasn’t meant to be.”

“To be explained later?”

“Yes, later.”

I turned and looked out the windows of the great room. To my surprise and delight, the sun was cresting over the horizon. I had not seen a sunrise in a very long time. Not to mention the fact that I had not stayed up and talked with someone for just as long.

“Oh, my lord! Is the sun coming up? I did not intend to keep you up all night, Dorian.”

“It’s quite alright Christian. I quite enjoyed it. Come out on the patio with me, let’s watch the sunrise together.”

Okay, a feeble attempt and the cheesiest pick-up line ever said, but Christian finished his absinthe and joined me on the patio. We stood next to each other on the tile and as soon as the sun started to rise, Christian stood in front of me. My body tensed. I was not sure what to do next. Was the man hitting on me? Was I missing something? Apparently, I was not.

Christian eased his back into my torso as we watched the sun completely rise.

Christian turned and looked me dead in the eye when he said what he said next.

“Would you mind if I slept in your room today?”

I averted the question with a fucked-up answer.

“Sure, you can sleep in my room. I can take a guest room.”

“That’s not what I mean, Dorian.” Christian grabbed my hand and put it in his. “I meant do you mind if I sleep in your room, with you.”

“Are you sure this is what you want, Christian? What about the professional courtesy clause or whatever it is.”

“I will stay until my work here is done. What happens between us will not interfere with that.”

Now, I was not sure if he wanted me because of me as a person, or if he wanted me to add some personal spice to his story about me.

“This feels slightly off to me. Answer me this, do you want me for me, or do you want me because you’re writing a story about me?”

“Dorian, are you going to stand right in front of me, look me in the eye and deny the attraction between us?”

“I wasn’t aware you felt the same way.”

“I am terrible at showing outright feelings. I was wrong. Maybe you don’t feel…”

Before Christian could finish his sentence, I slammed my mouth on to his. The whimpering he made told me he had not been the subject of affection for a while either. He was hungry and he was eager. I could tell by the way his body responded to my subtle touches.

I broke the kiss before we got carried away and I took him right out in the open on the patio. He deserved better than that.

“You must understand one thing, Christian.”

“What is it, Dorian?”

“What happens between us in this house, stays in this house. It is not to be something for the whole world to read about. You swear to me you will keep it where it needs to be kept.”

“I swear, Dorian. Nothing we do will ever leave my lips, be put to paper, or broadcast over the web. I have more respect for you to do something like that.”

I looked deep into his eyes and believed he was telling me the truth. I had so much more to tell him about my life. Things that could possibly make him think differently about me. I should not have cared. I never cared what people thought of me, but for some reason, Christian’s opinion mattered. I did not have a reason as to why it did, it just did.

I turned to walk back into the house. Christian kept his hand in mine the whole way. I left the French doors opened to let some fresh air in. Christian and I ascended the stairs together. When we got to my room, I opened the door and let him enter first. I kicked the door shut with my foot a short time later.

Christian jumped when the door slammed shut. He looked apprehensive at best.

“Again, I will ask, are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes, Dorian, it is. My body is just sore. Too many days in the chair.”

While the absinthe had a slight numbing effect, I wanted to set the mood. I walked over to a small refrigerator I had in my room for late night cravings. I took out a bottle of wine and opened it to let it breathe.

“I could give you a massage. It may make you feel better.”

“I would like that very much.”

“Undress for me. Leave whatever you want on. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Christian stripped in front of me. His hard, chiseled body was everything I expected it to be and more. He left his boxer briefs on.

“Where do you want me?”

“On the bed. I have more room to work.”

As Christian situated himself, I warmed the massage oils I kept on the top of my dresser. Once they had warmed to the desired temperature, I brought the bottle with me and walked to my bed. I then placed a small amount in my hands and straddled Christian, my ass resting on top of his.

I started with his neck and worked my way to his shoulders. The man was full of knots and tension.

“Let me know if I hurt you Christian. I will stop.”

“Mmm, don’t stop. Your hands feel good.”

I continued down his back to his lower back and eventually my hands ended up under the waistband of his underwear. I waited for Christian to protest. He did not. I refused to rush the experience, so I added more oil to my hands and proceeded to massage his legs. I turned myself on the bed, keeping our bodies connected.

Occasionally, as I massaged his upper thighs, I would coyly brush my hands against his balls or move them extremely close to his asshole. The moans that escaped his lips told me he was completely fine with what I was doing. Not to mention the fact that he had a full fledge hard-on. I adjusted myself once more, so I was facing the headboard once again.

Christian flipped over on his back underneath me. Having his cock underneath me in such proximity made mine grow in a matter of seconds. Christian noticed.

“If you want to suck me off first, I will let you.”

He would let me. I had to laugh inwardly at that statement. He had forgotten that I am a Dominant when it came to sexual encounters. He was so darn sexy with the way he was looking at me I let it go. I did not want to spoil the moment.

I stripped Christian of his boxer briefs and tossed them to the floor. He was beautiful. His perfect, flawless cock sported a reddish head, and a drop of precum landed on his stomach just below. I would not rush. I wanted to play. To experience everything with him that he would allow.

I grabbed his cock with one hand and began stroking him gently as my other hand cupped and stroked his balls.

“Dorian, please… I want to feel your mouth on me.”

That was all it took. He had all but begged and it sent me over the edge. I hoped I would get him to beg more later.

I placed myself between his legs and laid on my stomach. My elbows held my weight on either side of his lower body. Once I was in position, I slowly sucked his entire length into my mouth, all the way the base of his cock. I then took my tongue and licked his vein that protruded. His moans became louder, and his legs began to twitch with pleasure. I placed my hands on top of his thighs to prolong his pleasure.

On my up stroke to the top of his magnificent dick, I would drag my tongue all the way up his vein simultaneously, then back down I would go, swallowing all of him. I could feel he was close. I eased the tip of his cock into my throat cavity. I took small, quick movements with my head so only the tip of his dick was receiving attention. It drove him wild, he exploded down my throat a few moments later.

Christian looked at me lazily. He was spent. I was ready for the moment to end and was satisfied with curling up next to him for the rest of the day. He had other plans.

“Let me return the favor. Stand up.”

I asked no questions. I did as Christian wanted. I stood next to the bed on the side where I usually slept.

When Christian swung his legs over the side my cock was inches from his face. His eyes went wide when he saw how long and thick it was.

Christian then placed his hand at the base of my hard shaft and guided me into his mouth. He bobbed up and down as he swirled his tongue around the tip of my throbbing dick. What he could not fit in his mouth he used his other hand to stroke me. Whether it was because it felt good, or whether it was just the fact that it was Christian sucking me off, I blew my load quicker than intended. Christian swallowed what I gave with no complaints or hesitation.

Instinctively I took his head in my hands and kissed him passionately. I could not help myself. This man had weaseled his way into my heart.

“I want you, Dorian,” Christian uttered out of labored breaths. Without missing a beat, I grabbed a condom out of the top drawer of my nightstand and sheathed myself. I turned Christian and positioned him on his knees on the edge of the bed in front of me. He adjusted so his hard, muscular ass was tilting out in front of me. He had also spread his legs as wide as he could to keep himself in place.

I grabbed lube from the same drawer and lubed not only myself, but Christian’s asshole as well. I placed one finger inside him and pumped a few times to get him used to my presence. I inserted another and performed the same process. Once I was three fingers in, he was ready for me. Just to be safe I placed more lube at his entrance.

I spread his cheeks with my hands and guided myself in. He cried out from the initial shock. I slowed for a moment and placed my cheek against the back of his head as I continued to ease myself in. Once I was completely in, I stopped so he could get used to my girth. As soon as Christian backed into me it was on.

I began pounding into Christian. Hard and fast, then slowly, then hard and fast again. I fucked him wildly, with mindless abandoned. Christian took every bit of it. When I felt his sphincter contract, I took my right hand and moved it to Christian’s leaking cock. He moaned with pleasure with just my touch alone.

I kept fucking him and stroking him simultaneously until my orgasm finally found me. I wanted us to come together, so I increased my speed while stroking Christian’s pulsating cock. A few moments later, both of our bodies tightened and arched back. I thrusted into Christian with each wave of my climax. We started and ended at the same time. That rarely ever happened. Quite frankly, I enjoyed every moment of it.

I waited until we both caught our breath before I pulled out. I stepped back to give Christian room to move. He scooted off the bed backwards. He did not want to get lube on the bed coverings.

“The restroom is through that door if you wish to clean up,” I said as I pointed in the general direction.

Christian said nothing as he walked past me. Things seemed different suddenly. I was not sure why. It could have been because I had done something, or it could have been just the situation in general.

When Christian returned, he put his underwear back on, crawled into the bed and scooted to the farthest side from me. I said nothing, instead I used the restroom to discard the condom from my now limp cock. I tied off the end and threw it into the wastebasket.

I usually sleep in the nude when the weather allowed but because Christian had put his undergarments back on, I came out wearing a pair of lounge pants. I slid into my side of the bed and rolled to my right side and turned off the lamp on the end table that was always left on during the day. I hated fucking with lights when entering a room for the first time.

Christian bucked up against me and placed his arm around my mid-section. I grabbed his hand in mine and brought his arm up to my chest.

“Thank you for an amazing evening, Dorian. I enjoyed it very much.”

“But.”

“But nothing, don’t ruin this, Dorian.”

“What is this, exactly.”

The asshole in me returned once again. This time it was for an entirely different reason. I was protecting my heart. Something deep within told me Christian only did this out of pity for me and my inability to find love the way I wanted.

“This, as you so eloquently put it, is two people who are attracted to each other enjoying themselves.”

Nothing else was said about it. Christian kissed me on the cheek and nestled next to me for the time being.

I could not sleep. Images of Christian and our encounter invaded my mind. I slinked out of bed when Christian started to lightly snore. I could not bear to be in the same room with him. Not because I did not want to be I did desperately. The fact that I had crossed a line with him weighed on me heavily.

Although it was Christian who initiated it, I reluctantly had to be the one to end it. If it meant he left my home and my story never was told, so be it. I could not in good conscious use the man for my own gain, even if it were purely for pleasure. I, like he with me, had too much respect to let something so trivial as sex ruin the friendship we had developed. I just hoped he understood. Another thought entered my mind as soon as the previous left.

What if Christian was testing me? Yes, what if he was testing me the same way I had tested Lily? What if he wanted to see if I would break every rule I had ever set for myself? I had to explore every avenue of the predicament I found myself in. Worst case scenario, I would chalk it up as being just a one-night stand between friends. Nothing more. I could not allow anything more to happen between us.

I was not the man he needed in his life. I was far too sinister and he, well, he was way too pure for the likes of me. I would not corrupt his soul the way I did others. He had too much to live for and Dorian Gray was not one of those things.

Christian came down a few hours later. He padded to the great room and grabbed a cup of coffee for himself. He neglected to see me sprawled out on the couch. He noticed me when he sat back in his usual spot: the side table from where our relationship began.

“Good afternoon, Dorian. I wondered where you took off to.”

“I’m sorry, Christian. I couldn’t sleep.”

“You mean, you couldn’t sleep up there with me.”

I shot from the couch and started pacing the floor. I could not help it.

“That’s not it at all, Christian. I wanted to be with you more than anything.”

“But.” He turned the tables on me.

“But… I am not the man for you.”

“Whoa, who said this was going to turn into a relationship?”

Although that possibility had never been discussed, the words stung. Even though this is what I wanted, they still hurt some.

“Isn’t that what you want? A relationship with me?”

“No, and not for the reasons you might think.”

“Fill me in then. These mixed signals are confusing as shit!”

“Will you please sit? You’re making me nervous.”

I plopped my ass back on the couch with a thud and waited for him to speak again.

“I do not want a relationship with you because, in this stage of my life, I am not ready for such a responsibility. I can barely figure myself out. I would hate to try to figure out something that is so important in one’s life, on top of the other.”

What he said made perfect sense. I was not ready for a relationship myself. I did not know if I ever would be if I were honest with myself.

“That makes sense. I mean you have a lucrative career ahead of you. I could see how a relationship would hinder that.”

“Look, Dorian. What we shared was special, and it’s a morning I will never forget. You showed your vulnerability. And for that, I will always be grateful. I experienced a side of Dorian Gray that no one will ever know about.”

A huge wave of relief hit me, and I did not have to be the one to break things off as it were. Christian did it for the both of us.

“What’s the next part of your story?”

“You still want to work with me?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I keep my personal and professional life separate. I see no reason to not continue.”

“Well, all right then. I guess we can move on to nineteen eighty-nine.”

Much like after my stint in Times Square, when I threw Lily out of my home, I became a recluse for the third time in my life, only this time it did not bother me as much as the times before. I developed a few hobbies.

As much as I enjoy all my paintings and still prefer them to photographs any day of the week, I found I did not have the talent needed to produce such beautiful renditions. Yet another ironic twist entered my life. I was a natural at photography. What were the odds?

“What drew you to photography in the first place? Being an adamant fan of paintings and all?” Christian asked.

“Destiny, is all I can say.”

“Excuse me? I thought you didn’t believe in all that.”

“I don’t but how else can I explain it? I had people that were new in my home sit for stills so I would have a memory of them. Now, I shoot memories for others.”

“You came full circle it sounds like.”

“It would seem so.”

“What were the first things you photographed?”

“I started with buildings around the city. I would take my camera when I went to the market on Tuesdays and when I was done shopping, I would meander around, take several angles of the same building et cetera.”

“Did you branch out to other subjects?”

“I did. Because of a chance encounter, I started photographing people.”

“Chance encounter?”

“Let me explain…”

***

The chance encounter that I am referring to happened on one of my mornings when I went out to check out the scenery. I was walking a little off my normal path when I heard strange noises coming from an alleyway. I had been photographing buildings for so long, I had forgotten about the human element of things.

Out of curiosity I tiptoed into the entrance to the alley. I saw a man buried deep in a dumpster. He was foraging for something. Given the state of some economic hardships, I assumed he was a homeless person looking for food. I raised the camera to my face, looked through the lens and began to snap photos.

The noise from the camera echoed throughout the alley and startled the man. He shot out of the dumpster with a look of anger on his face.

“What the hell are you doing?” he bellowed out as he regained his footing.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, what the hell are you doing? Why are you taking my picture?”

“I meant no disrespect, it’s just a hobby of mine, and quite frankly the architecture around the city is becoming cumbersome.”

“And most who think they can take pictures, can’t.”

“I don’t think mine are that bad.”

“I’ll tell you what, if you help me find two rolls of undeveloped film in this pile of shit, I will look at your stuff.”

Not exactly what I had in mind for the morning but why the hell not? What could it hurt? I walked over to the man, and warily placed my portfolio and camera bag in between the dumpster and the wall so it could not be seen if anyone else decided to come through.

“You’re a photographer too?”

“I am. I own a studio two floors up from this dumpster.”

I hopped in the dumpster while the man conveniently stayed outside of it.

“Um… how did your film get down here?”

“An eighteen-month-old hellion on two legs is what happened.”

I looked up and noticed a window was open. It must have been from his studio.

“Let me guess, they got bored and started throwing shit?”

“Exactly.”

I put my hand up a few moments later and held one roll of film in my hand. The only good thing about this specific dumpster is that all the garbage was in plastic bags, and none were leaking.

‘What are one these rolls?”

“One has wedding photos and the other is graduation portraits for yearbooks.”

“Oh, yeah it is time of year, isn’t it?”

“Abundantly so.”

I found the other roll of film and handed it to the man whose name I had yet to get. I hopped out of the dumpster and grabbed my gear.

“Does your offer still stand? To look at my stuff?”

“Yeah, it does. Name’s Ben.”

“Dorian.”

“Well, Dorian, Mr. Want-to- be-photographer, follow me.”

I followed Ben up two flights of stairs to his studio. The space was huge. It held several backdrops, lighting filters, and some clothing depending on what type of photos the client wanted. He had a great set up. What he needed was help running the place.

I had not even thought about doing this sort of thing, but if the opportunity arose, I would not turn it down. When Ben grabbed some coffee and handed me one out of cordiality, he stood in front of a proofing station. I stood next to him and looked at what he had on the board. It was a family portrait. Mother, father, and three children that ranged in age from about three to sixteen. They were all dressed in similar colors. The sixteen-year-old daughter looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there. I could not help but laugh out loud.

“That one looks bored or pissed off,” I remarked as I pointed to the teenager with bright orange hair. Another attribute her parents could be proud of.

“That one is a handful. She always does that, so the parents must take more pictures.”

“Little selfish if you ask me.”

“I told her the next time this happens; they are stuck with them. There are only so many redo’s that I can afford to give out.”

“What is the norm? Of redo’s”

“Policy is usually just the one for complete pose change. Technology has ways to touch stuff up, like blemishes and stuff like that.”

“Sounds pretty easy.”

“It is… computer software. Let me see that portfolio.”

I pulled the photos from under my left arm and handed it to Ben. I made myself busy exploring the studio as he looked through it photo by photo. I will admit, I was a little nervous. Why, I could not possibly tell you.

“These are great, Dorian. You have an eye, that’s for sure.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah, you’re one of the rare naturals.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“What are you doing for work?”

“This is just a hobby of mine. I haven’t thought about doing it professionally.”

“Well, you should.”

“Where would I go for something like that? If I was interested of course.”

“Here.”

“Excuse me?”

“Work with me here. You can be my apprentice if you will. I can teach you everything you need to know about the trade. You can take some of my clients, come with me on bookings.”

“That sounds great!”

“The clients here can bring nine hundred a week, the outside bookings would be extra of course.”

I did not need to do it for the money as we well know. I did it because it would allow me to socialize and just do it for fun while learning everything I could about the craft.

“I accept your offer, Ben. Thank you very much.”

“I see it as we are helping each other out. Come back at nine tomorrow morning.”

***

“Just like that?” Christian asked.

“Just like that. And I still do it to this day as a matter of fact.”

“Really? I had no idea.”

“Of course, you didn’t. An order to my story, remember?”

“Will it be just as juicy and intriguing as the first parts?”

“You shall see in time, my friend.”

Just then Christian’s cell phone rang. He looked at the screen a little put off.

“Do you need to take that?” I asked out of curiosity.

“I shouldn’t but, yes, I better. Will you excuse me?”

“Yes.”

Christian walked to the foyer once again to take his call. I went to the bar and grabbed some lavender infused simple syrup I keep on hand, the vodka, and a pitcher of lemonade Bentley put out.

I walked the ingredients to the coffee table which seemed to be our favorite place for eating and drinking as of late. I poured some syrup in the bottom of tall cocktail glasses I had run back to get. I picked up some of Christian’s conversation.

***

“I told you this job was important…I will be home in a week or so max…yes, I know how long I have been gone already…of course not…No! I’m not cheating on you! For fuck’s sake! I gotta go… no, I gotta go, I’ll call later.”

***

“Everything okay?” I asked, knowing full well that it was anything but.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Christian replied, and he threw his phone on the side table.

“Given by the sudden change in attitude, I don’t think it is.”

“It’s nothing really. I just have someone in my life that does not like to be alone is all.”

“Male or female, if you don’t mind me asking.”

Yes, the question was personal, but I wanted to know whom he was keeping company with. We decided not to have a relationship, but I could not in all honesty guarantee that what happened last night would not happen again.

Christian sat back on the floor like he had the previous evening. He looked like a sheepish little boy. It took him a few minutes to speak.

“Male.”

“Roommate or something else?”

“Both.”

“Oh. He knew you were coming here, right?”

“He did. And he knew I would be gone for an extended period.”

“We can stop this now, Christian. You can go back to him and save whatever is left of the relationship.”

Why I cared so much about him loving another perplexed me. I could have been selfish and demanded he stay no matter what. That we had signed a contract, blah, blah, blah. But regardless of what happened between us, I could not do that to him.

“Can I be completely honest with you?”

“Of course, you can. We have a pretty good friendship.”

He looked at the table first and realized I was planning on some unique concoction.

“Before I start, what are you making?”

“It’s simple. Lavender Lemonade.”

“I can’t say I’ve had it yet.”

“It’s simple. I already poured lavender simple syrup into the bottom of the glass. I will let you pour how much vodka you want then top with lemonade.”

Christian picked up the glass and smelled the syrup. He nodded his head in acceptance and poured vodka halfway up the glass. Something was bothering him. I could tell by the amount of alcohol. He then finished it off with the lemonade.

I prepared my drink shortly after and stirred it with a spoon to infuse flavors. Christian did not bother to do so.

“Would you mind if we went on the patio?”

“Of course not, wherever you are comfortable.”

I followed Christian to the patio, and he sat in the exact seat Lily had so long ago. It did not bother me; I just enjoyed his company.

“First off, I need to know. Do you mind if we don’t finish the interview tonight? My head isn’t in the right space.”

“Trust me, my story isn’t going anywhere. We can take a night off or two if you want.”

“Thank you. Tonight, should be fine.”

Christian stared off into the pool. He was way out of sorts. I felt bad for him, but I could not help him if he did not tell me what was going on with his partner.

“So, what of this partner of yours?”

“His name is Chase. Things were good in the beginning, now…”

“He can’t handle your job duties?”

“He can’t handle this job.”

“I see. Because you are interviewing another man?”

“No, because I am interviewing the infamous Dorian Gray.”

Wow. Someone was jealous of me. That was hard to believe. No one had a reason to be.

“Has he been like this with other jobs?”

“Yes, last year I was requested to interview a fashion model from a prestigious lingerie creator.”

“Am I to assume this person was also male?”

“No, opposite. She was all female.”

“I don’t think I’m understanding. Am I missing something?”

I casually took a sip of my drink waiting for Christian to spill whatever was on his mind. He waited a few moments as he too took a drink.

“I am and always have been bi-sexual. I have had both male and female partners at one time or another.”

“And Chase knows this?”

“He does. I told him from the very beginning. It never bothered him before. His anxiety started last year.”

“When you interviewed the model.”

“Yes. He accused me of cheating on him then as well.”

“Did you? I hate to ask, but what you and I did…”

“No, I didn’t with her. I could have but passed. “

“And you didn’t with me because…”

“Because we just fell into in naturally, I guess. Yes, it was a one-night stand if you want to be tacky about it. But it felt right at the time.”

“Has Chase ever strayed?”

“Plenty of times and told me about it afterwards.”

“Not to sound rude, but the problem is what exactly?”

“It’s not the sex stuff. I can get over it. I think it’s the fact that he relies on me too much maybe?”

“Does he not contribute to your household?”

“No, he doesn’t. And he has the nerve to bark orders at me, all the time. I’m the one working and he sits on his ass all day playing his stupid video games, then goes out when I get home and expects me to be there. When I took this job, I left a note.”

“Not to tell you what to do, but he doesn’t sound like the right fit for you. He obviously doesn’t respect you or your career for that matter. Is he worth risking what you so desperately want to do with your life?”

Christian pondered what I said and took a longer pull from his cocktail. He knew I was right in some respects, but he struggled with what his head and his heart were telling him. I had been there enough times to know.

“What exactly are you trying to tell me, Dorian?”

“I am suggesting that you take a good long, hard look at this relationship. If he is not the right person, then end it and take a break. Focus on yourself and your career first. You told me you couldn’t even figure yourself out right now. How do you expect to do it for two people? Your words, not mine.”

“I guess I wanted a third-party take on things. But you’re right. I have to think this through.”

“I will leave you alone. Just don’t fall in the pool or do anything crazy out here. We will continue our work tomorrow.”

I stood to leave as I heard Christian chuckle. I left the door open for him to come in whenever he was ready.

The next morning, Christian seemed in better spirits. If I had to guess, I would say he talked to his partner. Not my business so I decided not to ask. We decided to do the interview outside. The weather was perfect. A balmy sixty-five-degree day, slight breeze.

“How long did you apprentice under Ben?” Christian wasted no time with the questioning.

“Until nineteen ninety-four. I know it seems like a long time, but he taught me so many things.”

“Business was lucrative?”

“It was. With me being there he was able to book more events and things of that nature. I really enjoyed myself in those days.”

“You said you still do photography.”

“I do, but business has dropped off a lot. Cell phones, selfie sticks. Portraits are somewhat of a dying breed if you will.”

“I am guessing you started your own business.”

***

In the year nineteen ninety-four. Ben unfortunately succumbed to a health issue. Unbeknownst to me, he had left me his business in his will. It came as quite a shock, as did his death. He told no one that he had cancer.

I decided to rename the studio. I called it Graybrand Studios. It was a mixture of my last name and Ben’s. I felt it fitting since he taught me everything I wanted to ever know and more about my newfound hobby.

Old and new clients kept me busy for many years. Weddings were all the rage in the mid-nineties, more so than most decades. I did not care, it kept me in business. Not to mention I found some unrelated perks to the job.

***

“What were these perks?”

“Haha, my boy, they were of the sexual kind.”

“Oh, okay we don’t need details of those unless one sticks out in your mind.”

“Not with those tarty women. The significant one will come in a day or two.”

***

I had no complaints about the way things were going with the photography business. For someone who disliked them for many centuries, I could not fault anyone that wanted them done. I had the occasional boudoir booking that always proved to be interesting.

Self-conscious women and some men would come in and try to bring out their inner goddesses or gods. I found it easier to photograph the women, unless I got a male that was in touch with his feminine side. And on rare occasions, there were not enough filters or retouching in the world that could help. Please do not ask about that, I will not delve into other people’s privacy that way. I am far from perfect, and I have never judged another. I do not intend to do so now.

When the year nineteen ninety-nine came, the world was thrown into a frenzy. According to historians, the world was to come to an end that year. Some other things came to light that year as well, on a personal level.

***

“What was that? Normal business for five years, then what?” Christian asked with a little too much emphasis.

“Before I go on, are you okay? You seem jumpy today.”

“Yeah, I’m good. Just waiting for a phone call that I don’t want to take.”

“Ah, from Chase?”

“Yes.”

“Things, okay?”

“They will be when he calls.”

“Tell me you didn’t do something crazy.”

“Well, I ended it in a voicemail.”

“Why didn’t you say something? I would have let you go to deal with him in person. Like you should have done.”

“It’s better this way, believe me.”

“If you say so. And yes, for five years things ran smoothly. When the farce of the end of the world came, the beast within me awakened for the third time. I say third because I kept it tame when Lily was here.”

“What do you mean the beast came back out?”

“Exactly as I said. Through some unknown forces at work, I got the urge to kill again.”

“Wait, that’s a span of fourteen years. How in the hell do you keep it at bay? The urge is always there for a serial killer.”

“I don’t really know how to explain it. Yes, the urges were always there. Once a killer, always a killer, however when I am occupied with other things, or people, my mind is shifted away from the beast.”

“That seems too easy of an excuse,” Christian said.

He was right. As easy as the excuse was, it was true. I elaborated further.

“I had cooling off periods, for obvious reasons. It is an actual scientific notation that they do exist within every serial killer ever known. I would disappear from the public eye and resume my normal life and routine. Yes, I maintained my status in society, but it all appeared normal to those who claimed they knew me. I rarely showed emotions or empathy in public, so it was easier for me though the cooling off phases.”

“All serial killers do this?”

“Yes, until something triggers them again.”

“Continue with your story.”

***

People started to panic when they thought the end of the world was upon them. My bookings that year increased tenfold. I was even taking evening appointments. Not the common practice but I found them to be therapeutic. It was quiet and my subjects were a lot more considerate and cooperative.

It was late December and a young, married couple had booked an evening appointment. The weather was about to turn into a massive snowstorm unlike New York had seen in a few years. The couple wanted to get the portraits done before the weather hit.

The wife was a cute little thing. No more than twenty-one if she was lucky and pregnant with their first baby. The husband was an asshole of a man that had a serious attitude. He did not want to be there. He acted like he wanted to be somewhere else entirely.

A half hour into the session the asshole husband spoke for the first time.

“Are we almost done here? I have someplace to be.”His wife turned around and looked at him, placing her right hand on her expanded waistline.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Where do you have to go that’s so damn important.”

I stepped away from the couple, far enough to give them their privacy but close enough to overhear their conversation.

“I told you, it’s work-related baby.”

“Don’t you ‘baby’ me! I see no extra money on those checks when you tell me it’s work-related. As a matter of fact, I see less money in the account than what your damn check says!”

“This is not the place to make a scene. Let’s just go so I can get you home.”

“We are booked for an hour. If you want to leave, just fucking go. I’ll call a taxi to get me home, you sorry sack of shit! I ask you to do one fucking thing and you can’t even do that.”

“Linzy…”

“Lucas, just go.”

Lucas turned on his heel. No emotion, no sympathy, no empathy, nothing. He was out of my studio in a matter of seconds. I walked to the window that I had left open for some fresh air and noticed Lucas running to his truck while on his phone.

“Yeah… I’m finally out… some stupid pre-baby photos or some shit… see you in a few minutes… love you too.”

That was the only part of the conversation I heard before I returned to Linzy who was desperately trying not to cry.

“Don’t cry, miss. You’ll mess that pretty face of yours.”

“I’m sorry. He’s been such a dick since he found out I was pregnant. Do you have a tissue?”

I walked over to the side table by the window and grabbed a box of tissues that I had handy. Linzy took one.

“Thank you. Do you have enough photos?”“I do…would you like to see the proofs before they are developed?”

“You can do that?”

“I can.”

I pulled the photos that were taken from the digital software on the computer.

“Can I pick the ones I want now?”

“Sure.”

Linzy picked four that she was absolutely in love with. She picked one with her and her dickwad of a husband. The only one where he donned half of a smile on his face. The other three were of her. One cradling her stomach with both hands while looking down at it. And the other two were of different poses. One laughing and one looking shy and innocent.

“I better call a cab before the weather turns. Do you mind if I wait here?”

“How about I do you one better? Save the fare, I’ll drive you home.”

“I can’t ask you to do that. Don’t you have to come back here tonight?”

“I do but I don’t mind doing it. Save that money for your little one.”

Linzy thought about it for a moment. She was unsure whether I was trustworthy. I could not blame her. However, if her husband had not been in a rush to see another woman, I would never have had to offer in the first place.

“Okay, as long as you promise not to do anything stupid, and just drive me home.”

“You have my word. Besides, you’re a married woman. I don’t go for married women.”

Linzy laughed at what I had said. At least she was not crying anymore. I hated to see women crying. Beautiful creatures should never be made to cry. It was outright deplorable. At least by my standards.

“Okay then. Thank you very much.”

I let Linzy go out of the studio first and I closed and locked the door behind me. The sidewalks had become slick as the temperature had dropped suddenly. The storm was coming. I helped her off the sidewalk and to the passenger’s side of my car. I opened her door, held her hand as she squatted to get into the seat, and closed her door when she was finally inside. I unlocked my door hurriedly and sat opposite her and started the car, turning on the heat.

“Where we headed?”

“Do you know where Aspen Road is?”

“I do. At least it’s not too far from here. You will be home in plenty of time before the storm.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.”

“Ah, the husband.”

“I hate when he goes out late at night like this.”

“He’s a grown man, forgive me for saying. He can make his own decisions, even though they may be stupid at times.”

Linzy laughed again. Something told me that Lucas was her high school sweetheart and the man that took her virginity. She believed whatever he told her. The heart makes you do stupid things when one is in love.

I turned down Aspen Road. The area was not the poshest in this part of the city, neither was it the lowest. It had moderate homes ranging in size.

“I’m the last house on the left.”

As I drove, I noticed her house was the smallest one on the block. It looked to be only big enough for two people let alone a baby. Not my life, not my concern, I told myself as I pulled into her driveway.

“Do you need help to the door?”

“No, I got it. My mom’s car rides low like this one. Thank you for the ride home.”

“You are welcome. I will call when the pictures are developed.”

“Thank you so much. Will talk to you soon.”

I backed out of the drive and waited for Linzy to enter her home before I drove back to the studio. I had a few rolls of film to develop and print, Chances were that I would work through the storm, if it in fact hit like the meteorologist suggested. I found in my experience that most were only right thirty per cent of the time when it came to the actual forecasts.

I started with the photos I had booked earlier in the week. Always better to go in order. I assumed that the recipients would pick them up by the weekend. Plenty of time for the shitty weather to pass through. Things were going smoothly. A few touch ups here, others there and I was finally to Linzy and Lucas’s photos.

I developed the ones of only her first. She was cute as a button and very proud to become a soon to be mom. The love radiated from her face. When I got to the one of her and Lucas something weird happened…

***

“What happened? Don’t hold out on me.” Christian became excited. I wasn’t sure he would want to hear about what I saw, but nothing I had said so far scared him off. So, I took a chance and described what happened.

***

I looked at the picture closely before I was to add it to the manila envelope that contained the other three photos. The closer I looked the more I saw images that were not in the photo before. There was a red circle around the head of Lucas. In the background, that was originally white during the shoot, turned black as the ace of spades and I saw what appeared to be the interior of a warehouse and a piece of wire. I took out my magnifying glass from the center drawer of the table I was working from and focused on the wire itself. It appeared to be a piano wire.

I threw the magnifying glass across the table and walked away in a hurry. I blinked and rubbed my eyes until they hurt. I went back to the photo and the images I had seen were gone in the blink of an eye. Had I seen what I thought I saw? Was this just my mind playing tricks on me because of what had happened to Linzy earlier?

***

“So, was it a hoax?”

“I wish I could say it was. But alas, it was not. When I finally made it home that evening and went to bed, my dreams held the same images.”

“What exactly triggered you?”

“I’m not sure exactly. The way Lucas treated Linzy in front of me did. I guess.”

“That’s unusual, isn’t it?”

“It was. But when the urge gets triggered, it could be because of the most minute of things.”

“Wow. That must be hard.”

“I was dormant for fourteen years. It’s not that far-fetched.”

“I guess not given your history with things. No offense.”

“None taken. I know how I behaved. Right or wrong I am still who I am. Can’t change it. I’ve tried.”

Moments later, the phone call that Christian was dreading came through. He excused himself and went back into the foyer.

“Look, Chase. This isn’t working any more. We need to end this before someone gets seriously hurt… I just can’t do it anymore. I am tired… what have you done that’s so wrong? Are you serious right now?... No, you don’t contribute jack shit!... I want you gone by the time I get back…Yes, I’m dead serious… Well, maybe you should be more careful about what you post on social media… go with Justin, I’m sure he’d love to have you!”

***

I stared at Christian as he entered the great room. He said nothing. Instead, he sat at his laptop and began deleting and blocking his former lover. His phone was pinging with text messages and missed calls. After he had his computer situated, he moved to his phone and did the same thing.

“I’m guessing things didn’t go so well?” I had to ask.

“No, they didn’t.”

“Will there be an issue when you get home?”

“No, there won’t. Security in the building knows what to do if he causes a ruckus. I just messaged them and told them what was going on. They will remove him.”

“Okay, any issues when you return you let me know.”

“I can handle it.”

The look Christian gave me was one of perplexity. It wasn’t like I was going to kill the guy, but I think he thought I just might. That would not have been my intent. Not in the slightest, but after being with me and in my house for a week now, I can see why he thought what he thought. Did I like it? Not in the least but it was understandable.

“Let’s get back to it. You started seeing images both in the photos of Linzy and Lucas and in your dreams at night. I have to ask, did the soul keeper change as well? It seems to me he always does when something like this happens.”

At least Christian remembered the details of my portrait changing when he wanted me to do things. As crazy as it sounded.

“It did. The grin turned more mischievous than before. Subtle changes always warned me of what he wished for me. Or rather the devil.”

“Will I ever see this infamous portrait of yours?”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“If it changes when in your presence… I don’t want to take that chance.”

“And I won’t see these changes?”

“No, you will continue to see the former image, unless you go back in a few days later. Mortals can’t pick up on the subtle nuances. I know the painting aspect sounds hokey, but I swear it’s the truth. I sold my soul so that my painting would age and not me.”

“So, a narcissist whose also vain.”

“Aren’t we all? Wouldn’t you like to stay looking like that forever?”

“Well, sure. No one wants to get old… I get it. Your wish just happened to come true.”

“Yes, it did.”

“What happened with Lucas?”

***

I let my dreams lie for a few days. I had no intention of killing again. I had been happy with the way my life had been going. The voices started again shortly after. I would be saving souls again, but not the souls of my victims. I would be saving the souls of the people my victims hurt.

Resounded with the fact that I was now destined to do something I had not done since Lily was in my life and it was only one person, I began another routine on top of my daily one. During the day I continued to take photos of people that booked sittings; at night I would stalk Lucas.

I remembered where he and Linzy lived so when I closed the shop at six in the evening I would go to Aspen Road and wait at the opposite end to where the happy couple lived. I had watched Lucas’s movements for a week before his ultimate routine took shape.

At seven sharp, Lucas would leave the house in a huff and get into his truck. The truck was red with big knobby tires. He was overcompensating for something, but women seemed to love it. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday he would go to the local watering hole and hang out with his buddies. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday he would go to the woman’s house he was cheating on Linzy with.

With his schedule firmly in my mind, I went back to the studio and placed a call to Linzy to inform her that her pictures were ready for pick up. Linzy told me that she was to be induced the following Saturday and with all the confusion could she wait to pick them up. I agreed. She was about to bring a baby into the world. What she did not know was her husband would not be present for the birth of his child.

The Thursday before Linzy was due to go to the hospital, I followed Lucas to his girlfriend’s house. I parked across the street from the home he entered. Shortly after he entered the house, silhouettes from the window showed clothes being taken off at a rapid pace.

I had my camera in the seat next to me. I grabbed it and exited my car. I snuck through the yard and went to the side of the house. Glancing through the window I was outside the bedroom. The sheers had been drawn but not enough. If done correctly I could take photos with my thirty-five-millimeter film.

The date stuck in my head. Thursday, December twenty nineth. Linzy was having her baby when the end of the world was supposed to happen. Talk about irony.

As suspected, a few moments later, Lucas chased his girlfriend into the bedroom, they were oblivious to everything around them except themselves. I snapped a whole roll of film. It took all of five minutes. I ran to my car when I was finished and rushed to the studio. I developed the photos the old-fashioned way. I locked myself in the darkroom and began my work.

Once the photos were placed in the stop bath, I hung them up to dry. In front of me was Lucas in all his glory with the woman he desired more than his wife. You could tell by the look on his face that she was the woman he was in to. Considering he did not cover his penis told me she was either on the pill or neither gave a flying fuck.

I placed the photos in a manila envelope after they dried and took them back to my home. I would leave them as the only evidence the police would need.

***

“Wasn’t that a bit risky?” Christian asked me while he was looking behind the bar for something to drink.

“Not really, those specific photos could not be traced to me or the business. Plain photo paper.”

“Gotcha… you always do cover your tracks well.”

“Been doing this a long time. You never break habits no matter what the circumstances are.”

“I guess not.”

***

With the photos next to me in the opposite seat. I set out to put my plan into action. In the trunk of my car, I had tape, chloroform, and the infamous piano wire. Mind you, the chloroform was homemade.

***

“What do you mean it was homemade?”

“Acetone, bleach, and ice. And a shit ton of it.”

“No one asked about the large quantity of which you ordered?”

“Big house to clean and paint.”

***

I parked in my usual spot at the end of the street and waited for Lucas to leave on December twenty-ninth. There was a small hiccup in the plan from the start. Instead of Lucas leaving alone, he left with Linzy. That was not supposed to happen. It would not be a big deal to navigate around. Something told me he would be called away regardless. I would have to play it a little differently. I had forgotten Linzy was to be induced on this day.

The photos I had intended to deliver to Linzy after the deed was done would have to be delivered to her before. There was no way around it. I would play it off somehow, and that way I could keep my eye on Lucas.

It started to snow. Not heavy but enough to make things a shit show. Drivers always became stupid when it either snowed or rained. All the better for me.

I followed the happy couple, for appearance’s sake anyway, to the hospital. I waited a half an hour in the parking lot two rows back from Lucas’s truck then called the front desk to ask what room Linzy had been checked into. Room five, zero, four. Just down from the nursery.

I walked into the hospital and took the first elevator that opened. I pushed the button for the fifth floor and proceeded up. I could hear voices from outside Linzy’s room. It sounded like her mother was with her as well as Lucas. Here went nothing.

I silently knocked on the door to get someone’s attention. Linzy stopped her conversation and looked to her left. She was surprised to see me standing in the hallway.

“Mr. Gray! What are you doing here?”

“I took a chance that you would be here. I remember you said you were to be induced today.”

“How did you know that?” Lucas asked as he puffed out his chest.

“Relax, Lucas. I told him I was being induced and could not pick up the photos of us until afterward.”

Lucas glared at her. I had never seen such hatred radiate off a person before. Apparently, what was good for the gander was not good for the goose.

“I wanted to make sure you had them before your bundle of joy arrived.”

“That was so very sweet of you. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Come back when the little one is old enough, or whenever you like.”

“I will. Thank you again, Mr. Gray.”

“You are most welcome, have a great evening.”

I walked out and took my time going down the hall. I stopped in front of the nursery and gazed at all the innocent ones that had been brought into the world within the last two days. Not a care in the world. If they only knew how hard life could possibly be for them depending on what road they chose.

I heard Lucas’s phone go off in the room. Linzy could not contain her outrage. She began yelling and demanding that Lucas get off the phone. He refused as normal and made the excuse that it was work calling and he had to cover an emergency shift. She did not believe him. He told her she would be fine as her mother was there. What a fucking tool.

Lucas ran out of the room so fast he did not notice me standing in front of the nursery. As soon as he passed me, I followed. He was chatting with the lover and told her he would be with her within twenty minutes. The elevator was at the end of the hall and around the corner. I could not take the same one and if I waited for it, I would miss my shot.

There was a door that led to the stairs to my left. I opened it and sprinted down two at a time and ran out the front door to my car. I managed to beat Lucas but only by a minute or two. He jumped in his truck and sped off like there was no tomorrow. I was hot on his tail.

A few blocks up from the hospital in a deserted intersection I made my move. The light on our side was about to turn green. I had not slowed down and that was my intention. When Lucas gave the truck gas and we were halfway through the intersection, I tapped his bumper with the front of my car. The roads were icy, and Lucas’s truck was not equipped with four-wheel drive.

I had tapped his bumper hard enough that his truck began to fishtail, Lucas over corrected and crashed into a huge oak tree on the right side of the road. His head had hit the steering wheel because the horn was making an incessant noise.

Being the good Samaritan I was, yeah right, I pulled behind Lucas. Before I checked on him, I opened my trunk, placed a ski mask on my face, gloves on my hands and doused a cloth with chloroform.

I walked to the side of Lucas’s truck and pushed him off the steering wheel. He let out a few groans of pain before he spoke.

“Please help me… I need to go to the hospital.”

He kept his eyes closed so he did not notice I had a ski mask on my face. I altered my voice slightly when I spoke.

“I’ll get you there soon enough.”

We were not going to the hospital. I had other plans and they started now. I placed the soaked rag of chloroform over his mouth and nose and let him breathe it in for a few minutes all the while checking for oncoming traffic. The streets were dead. I imagined they would be quite busy later with all the party goers coming home from their pre-New Year’s Eve parties and such.

After Lucas had been sedated. I opened the truck door and he fell out onto the pavement with his own weight. He was not a big man but that did not matter. When I moved his feet from the side rail of the truck, I left the keys in the ignition for prosperity and closed the door.

I dragged Lucas to the back of my car and lifted him. My attempt was more of a drop instead of a placement into the trunk of my car. Once inside, I taped his mouth, hands and feet and closed him inside.

I put the car in gear and drove to the only warehouses I knew of. Down by the docks on the east side of town.

***

“Seems like an awful lot of trouble,” Christian noted.

“Things had changed in twenty years. Hotels had too much security then. So that was no longer an option. I had to escalate my methods with the times.”

“I suppose so. Did you still think you were on a mission of saving souls?”

“I did but not of the guilty. This time I was saving the souls of the innocent.”

“I see… one extreme to the other? You know, a psychiatrist would deem you insane by today’s standards.”

“They very well might, and again, I don’t care. Embrace your sins remember?”

“The world is not clear-cut black and white now. There are shades of grey all over the place.”

“I understand that. But just because I exist in this world does not mean my actual world is exactly like this one.”

“For me, seeing all that I have seen, there is no grey area. It’s either good or evil, black, or white. No half assed assumptions. No second guesses.”

“That’s a dangerous way to live.”

“Not when that’s all you’ve known.”

“I’m guessing things with Lucas escalated as well?”

I refused to speak directly. All I could say is if you thought my former killings were gruesome, my next few went to a whole other level. Some may have called them overkill, but I thought they deserved every bit of what they got.

***

Once I got to the warehouse, I removed Lucas and my duffle bag from my truck and carried them over my shoulder to the top level. Part of the railing had broken out. He was still passed out, so I had time to survey my surroundings. I noticed some type of pulley system still intact hanging from the ceiling. The part of the railing that was missing fit some sort of apparatus for loading materials. I had not found it yet. Upon further inspection I found wood pallets and a surplus of six-penny nails which were used to secure framing. Off to the side against the upper wall were sheets of eight-foot-long framing plywood. My original plan just got better.

To make sure Lucas stayed knocked out, I placed the cloth soaked with chloroform back against his nose. He was breathing normally but one could not be too careful. I had an apparatus to construct.

I carried two pallets down the stairs and removed the center support beams. All I would need was the framing. Next, I carried down a sheet of plywood and ran back for a bag of nails. I nailed the plywood to the top of the frame made of pallets.

I had to see where the pulley would reach with weight added to it. On the lower floor there were bags filled with sand. I was in the dock district, so I assumed they were kept for flooding purposes. Each bag weighed roughly twenty pounds. Lucas weighed around one hundred and eighty pounds.

I found a metal cage that was used to remove items from the top floor. The pulley hook itself was within arm’s reach, so I attached it accordingly and pressed the button on the mechanism to hoist it up after I placed the sandbags inside. It was moveable by hand by a rail system that was constructed in the ceiling.

Once the cage was in place, I gave it a hard shove to see where it would end up regarding my “bed” if you will. It landed a foot short, but a minor adjustment would take care of that. I left the cage where it stopped and ventured back down the stairs.

I flipped the wooden structure onto one of its sides and went to work. Systematically, I hammered the six-penny nails through the plywood half an inch apart from each other. When I was finished, the spikes were through the topside of the plywood, creating a bed of nails.

I moved the structure dead-center under the pully, lowered the cage, put everything back where I found it and raised the pulley hook back to the side of the upper railing. Now it was time to work on Lucas. I laid him flat on the ground and unzipped his pants. I then removed his jeans completely from his body along with his underwear after I removed the tape from his ankles. The man wanted to cheat; I would make sure he never cheated again. I wrapped his dick and balls in the piano wire like a noose, leaving six feet to attach it to the pulley.

Lucas was beginning to stir from his slumber. I quickly placed the ski mask over my head and the gloves on my hands. Lucas’s hands were still taped in front of him as I stood him to his feet. I looped the piano wire over the pulley hook gingerly. Any movement from Lucas and the damage would start.

I forcefully ripped the tape off his mouth, and he screamed as he came around. With a sharp turn to his left, he tried to see where he was, but the wire began to cut into the underside of his limp dick.

“Where the fuck am I? Fuucckk!!! Who are you and what are you doing to me?”

I did not say a word… at first. I watched as Lucas squirmed as I kept ahold of his hands. I was his only support system. Literally. Lucas moved his body quickly to the right to look for something familiar. Again, the wire began to cut sensitive skin.

“Why am I here?” Lucas asked as he stared directly into my eyes.

I let out a heavy sigh behind my ski mask. The man was as stupid as they come.

“Lucas, you are here today because of what you have been doing to your wife.” I remained as calm as possible. I really wanted to push him off the structure, but he deserved to be heard.

“And what do you think I’m doing to her exactly?”

“You and I both know that dick of yours has been in another pussy other than hers.”

Lucas searched my eyes for a few moments. He thought he knew me, but he did not. Not really. He thought long and hard before resuming our conversation.

“Look, I don’t know who you are, but you are wrong. I have never cheated on my wife.

“I beg to differ. I have proof.”

Lucas’s eyes widened at that bit of information. The wheels were turning in his head. I could tell by his rapid eye movement from side to side.

“Did that fucking cunt put you up to this? Is she having me followed?”

“She knows nothing of this.”

“I doubt that. That bitch has always kept a tight leash on me from the time we got together.”

“I assure you. She knows nothing. I’m not that stupid.”

“So, what is your end game? You have my nuts in a vice, literally. What are you going to do? Kill me?”

Maybe the man was not as stupid as he appeared to be after all.

“Appropriate end to a man who gives two shits about his wife and new baby. Don’t ya think?”

“No!!!” Lucas wailed out as his feet shifted on the upper landing. “Fuck me! Dude, this wire is tearing my skin.”

“Hurts, don’t it?”

“Fuck yes! What can I do to make you let me out of here?”

“Nothing. If I let you go, you will continue to do the same shit. Your wife and baby don’t deserve a man like you in their lives. They’d be better off without you.” Lucas attempted to struggle with me while I had ahold of his hands. “I suggest you hold still. I’m the only thing keeping you from going over the edge.”

“I swear to God! I will never cheat again. P-Please let me go! My baby needs his father! I beg of you… let me go!”

“You should’ve thought about that before you dipped you wick in another inkwell, my friend.”

I slowly cut the tape from around his hands with my trusty letter opener I had in the back of my pants. I cut down the center of his hands. Once his left hand sprung free, I tightened my grip on his right arm. Lucas was beginning to teeter for balance. The wire continued to cut through his cock and balls. Droplets of blood were starting to mass on the ground below him. He reached up and placed his left hand on my arm. I hastily removed my right arm from his grasp. He was most certainly going over the side, I was not about to go with him.

As Lucas continued to plead for his life, I grabbed his shirt with my right hand and shortly after did the same with my left. I brought his body as close to me as I could stand.

“May God, or whomever you pray to have mercy on your soul.”

I pushed Lucas backwards. The pulley carried him a few inches above his final resting place. One long scream of agony left Lucas as he felt and saw the entirety of his genitals being ripped from his body. He fell on the bed of nails mere seconds later.

I took my ski mask off, placed the letter opener and gloves back in the duffle bag and skipped down the steps to the lower level. Lucas was done for. No movement, no labored breaths, no sign of life. My job was complete. I walked out to my car, threw my bag in the trunk, and drove out of the area.

I had worked up an appetite with all that moving of Lucas. I would have to make sure to plan the next one out better. I knew my spree had just begun. I had stayed dormant for so long. I drove to my favorite all-night diner and ordered the biggest burger they had with fries and a chocolate milkshake.

I was sure Linzy would file a missing person’s report on her husband and once they followed up, they would soon be investigating a homicide. I would make sure to stay one step ahead of the investigators.

***

“What happened after you ate?”

“I came home and went to bed.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“What exactly am I missing here?” Christian asked a little astonished.

“What do you mean?”

“You had been inactive for years. Then suddenly you take it upon yourself to kill a cheating husband, and think nothing of it?”

“I told you. I was triggered. Serial killers can stay dormant for decades until something sets them off.”

“I will have to research that some more.”

“Be my guest. You will find what I say to be true.”

“I don’t doubt you- I just want to make sure.”

“I understand.”

There was no doubt in my mind that Christian was off his game. Since he took the phone call from Chase things had been cooler, more institutional if you will. I did not know how to fix it. Maybe he would feel better in the morning. I decided to wrap up the interview early. He could hear about the other murders later, along with the two closest people in my circle of friends. Both of whom work for the police department. One as the lead investigator in the homicide division and the other, a forensic pathologist. Again, another ironic endeavor.

“Christian, you don’t seem into all this today, do you want to stop?”

“I’m sorry. I’m just on edge.”

“I know you are, so we will resume the interview in the morning. If you want to make sure Chase has left your home, feel free. You can come back.”

“You really wouldn’t mind?”

“If I minded, I wouldn’t have said anything.”

“Thank you, I should be back in an hour or two. I don’t live far from here. We can resume this evening if you want to.”

“That, my boy, depends on how you feel when you return. But I will make sure Bentley has a great dinner prepared and waiting. What would you like?”

“Surprise me. I eat just about everything. Except lima and green beans.”

Christian scrunched up his face in disapproval. I chuckled at his expense. He was right, there were so many things about himself he needed to figure out before he involved himself with anyone.

“Duly noted. Now go.”

Christian left all his belongings where they laid. All he took was his keys to his modest car. It was a white sedan that smoked a little too much. With as much as he contributed to his household and the fancies of Chase, I could see why he could not get it repaired. A few moments later he drove around the circular drive and headed home.

I walked outside to check the mail. Inside the box I found an unsealed manila envelope with Christian’s name on it. Curiosity got the better of me.

Just a short note to introduce myself. My name is Frank N. Stein. By my name I am sure you have guessed or have been told that I am the great, great, great, great grandson of Victor Frankenstein.

The stigma associated with the name never bothered me. I am still interested in many of the same things my grandfather was. I am a forensic pathologist for the state of New York, and I take my job seriously.

I will let Dorian tell you how our friendship came to be. Most of my time is either spent in the lab or with Vanessa Aves, the lead investigator of the homicide division. She is a great person to work with and a great friend outside of work, but the woman had demons of her own that she fought with daily.

I had seen a lot of gruesome crime scenes in my time as a forensic pathologist, but this latest string of murders was by far the worst yet. The scientist in me hoped more would come. The human in me felt sorry for whomever was on the receiving end.

My name is Vanessa Aves, and I am the lead criminal investigator for the district in which I live. Where that is, is of no importance. The less people know about me personally is better for them, and better for their safety.

You see, through family history, my bloodline has been cursed. Let me rephrase, at least one female from each generation has been cursed, ironically all their names were Vanessa, and all were deemed to be possessed by demons.

Strange as that sounds, I can attest that it is true. I am living proof of that. What happened when I left my day job and went home, I wished on no one. To believe that an entity is possessing your very mind and body is a tiring experience.

Much like Dr. Stein, I will allow Dorian to explain how I came to be in his life. After all it is his story and not mine. I trust that he will paint me in a formidable light. That is all a proper lady wants. To be held in the highest regard, no matter what the circumstances.

Please, do not take this note to be vague, it is Dorian’s story to tell. If you have any questions, you know where to find me.

Love,

Vanessa

***

I should not have opened the envelope, but I had to make sure there was no incriminating evidence to put me as a suspect. I loved both my friends dearly, and had they ever suspected me, things would change, and not for the better. I placed the contents back the way I found them, reclasped the envelope and placed it on the keyboard of Christian’s laptop.

I turned on my heel and went to the kitchen to talk to Bentley about dinner.

Christian returned, as promised, two hours later. As he walked to the front door, I noticed he seemed a bit more relaxed than when he left. He knocked on the door and I eagerly let him in.

“You don’t have to knock Christian. You’re practically living here.”

“I suppose I am.” Christian walked through the threshold and immediately went for his laptop.

“There is some mail there for you.”

“Really? From whom?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like I looked.” that was a blatant lie.

“Any idea who dropped it off?”

“It was in the mailbox.”

“Huh, that’s weird.”

“Not really. I always instruct couriers to leave stuff in the box if they are to deliver things to this address.”

“Ah, the privacy thing.”

“Exactly.”

Christian opened the envelope and stared at its contents. He was a little surprised at what he found inside. I know I was.

“Well, this is interesting… I received notes from both Dr. Stein and Investigator Aves.”

“Really? That doesn’t surprise me. They knew I was telling my story. I’m sure, knowing them as I do, they offered their assistance when needed.”

“They did. So, tell me something.”

“What?”

“They had no idea that you were the one that committed these murders?”

“No, they did not. Does that surprise you?”

“A little, yes.”

“And the operative word is committed. It has been some time since I have done so.”

“What time frame was this last string?”

“From the end of year nineteen ninety-nine to two thousand seven.”

“A longer cooling off period?”

“It seems that way, but nothing has prompted me to continue.”

“You know when this comes out, everyone will know. There is no statute of limitations.”

“I am well aware.”

“What then? You go into hiding? Move to a country that has no extradition? I can’t see you rotting in prison the rest of your life and not ageing to boot. That would not bode well with the inmates.”

“Let me worry about that when the time comes. If it comes.”

“Okay… I think you’re cutting your own throat with this whole thing.”

“I may be, but like I said let me worry about that.”

Christian rose his head and his nose caught the smells coming from the kitchen area. Bentley was just about to serve dinner.

“What smells so fucking good?”

“I had Bentley prepare pasta with vodka sauce and a salad for dinner. Cherries Jubilee for dessert. I hope that’s okay?”

“It’s perfect!! I’m starving.”

“We will eat in the formal dining room tonight. Less chances of messing shit up in here.”

“You mean, the formal dining room?”

“Um… yes. Can’t exactly get rid of the room.”

“I suppose not. Ready when you are.”

Christian grabbed his tape recorder and note pad to place next to him on the grand table. I led him back through the foyer, which held three archways on the left wall if you were coming from the front door. The first was my library. The second led to separate guest quarters and the third was my dining room.

As we walked in, Christian started to look around. It was just as he imagined if not more. I never described the room to him when I retold what happened to myself and Lily. He was now free to take notes and give his own description as he saw fit.

I sat at my usual place at the table. The head of it. Christian sat to the right of me. He jotted down what notes he needed and placed the notepad an arm’s length away, while keeping the recorder next to one of the vases full of flowers.

“Is this okay here?”

“It’s perfectly fine, Christian. Do what you must.”

Christian looked at the table. He ran his hands across the cherry wood finish. It seated sixteen comfortably in its current state. I had two more inserts that could expand that number to twenty-four if needed.

“Is this the infamous table?”

“The one where Lily had her army put their offerings you mean? Yes, it is.”

“Unfuckingbelievable.”

“This bitch cost me a lot of money when I got it, I wasn’t about to get rid of it either. It’s custom made.”

“I wouldn’t either. I just never thought I’d see it firsthand.”

“Why not? Eventually you will see most of what I have explained to you.”

“Except the painting.”

“Except the painting.”

Bentley walked out from the back with dinner on a serving cart. He placed a dish of pasta and a side salad in front of Christian first, then served me. He poured a merlot that had been breathing for a bit into two crystal wine glasses.

“If you need nothing else, Sir, I will return later with dessert,” Bentley said as he placed the bottle of wine back on the serving tray.

“We are fine, Bentley. Thank you.”

“This looks amazing, Bentley. Thank you as well,” Christian added.

“Very good.” Bentley took his leave.

“Tell me,” Christian said as he stabbed the pasta on his plate with a fork, “how did you come to meet Miss Aves and Dr. Stein?”

***

As I anticipated, Linzy filed a missing person’s report on her husband the following evening when he never came back to the hospital. That was after she called me at my place of business the night she was induced to see if I had seen him. She informed me, when I called her back, that if the police asked, she would have to tell them that I was at the hospital dropping off the photos and we were all together for a few moments. It was January second in the year two thousand when she called me. The studio was dead, so I closed early and prepared to get rid of the evidence. Not that there was much but I was not taking any chances.

Before I went home for the day, I drove around a few neighborhoods looking for anyone doing landscaping or disposing of their Christmas trees. My duffle bag was in the passenger’s seat. I removed the gloves and the rolls of tape I had in it. I disposed of the chloroform at the studio. There was a specific drain used for chemicals used in developing photos.

A few blocks over from where Linzy lived, I noticed a man who was disposing of dead limbs that had fallen from trees in his yard with a woodchipper. The chipper was faced so the sawdust and wood chips would land in the back of a dump truck. The man’s wife opened the front door to tell him he had a phone call. Leaving the chipper on, the man went inside. When the door closed to his house, I stopped my car next to the dump truck so it could not be seen from the occupant’s window. I threw the gloves and tape rolls into the chipper and watched as they disintegrated into nothing.

***

“I swear, you either have good luck or a guardian angel on your shoulder.”

“Frankly, it’s neither. I look for ways to cover my tracks the best way I can. If that means prowling neighborhoods for the unexpected, then I do just that.”

“Making your own destiny?”

“In a manner of speaking. Because of my beliefs. Embrace your sins… accept who you are… and the like. I must also preserve who I am. I leave nothing to chance.”

***

When I returned home, I took the duffle bag and letter opener from the car. My maid was doing laundry that morning, so I placed the bag in with the current load to be washed. I placed the letter opener in the fireplace in the living room. I always had one going that time of year to take the chill out of the room, so I broke the blade from the cheap resin handle and tossed it in. By the time the detective, whomever it may be, showed up at my home, the ashes would have been placed throughout my rose bushes and any remnants, metal or otherwise, would be taken away by Bentley.

Bentley was the only one who knew of my urges, and he protected me fiercely. If anything were out of place or amiss, he would fix it. I never questioned him just as he never questioned me. Not directly.

By January fifth, Lucas still had not come back home. It started out as a missing person’s case and quickly escalated when they found his truck a few blocks from the hospital. Preliminary news reports stated that a local man had disappeared. They put Lucas’s picture on the screen and said if anyone had any information to call the number below.

Two days later, the seventh, homicide got a call from a security guard that walked the docks that there had been a murder. He informed the police he did not know how something like this could have happened.

***

Christian ran and grabbed the notes from both Detective Aves and Dr. Stein… things were starting to add up for the boy. I stayed silent as he read the information aloud. I gave them both credit. They kept some detailed notes.

Here’s what this part says…

***

Friday January, seventh. The docks. Report by Vanessa Aves, Chief Homicide Detective

Dr. Stein and I had just pulled up to the murder scene. I had been on many investigations in the past, but nothing prepared me for what I was about to walk into.

“Detective Aves and Forensic Pathologist Stein. What ya got for me?” I said as I flashed my credentials in front of the shaken security guard.

“It’s nothing like I have ever seen, ma’am. Brace yourself.”

Frank and I walked through the doorway together and the smell that hit my nose was a mixture of blood, fecal matter, and death. Death has a smell all its own and I cannot describe it. The best rendition I could give is it is like rancid meat mixed with chemical undertones.

I surveyed the scene and observed a white male, approximately twenty-five years of age, impaled on a bed of nails. Height approximately five foot eleven, weight unknown. Clothing had been removed from lower extremities.

Upon closer examination of the body, the victim’s clothes were not the only thing missing. His sexual organs had been ripped from his body and hung above him on a hook connected to a pulley system. Photographs were placed on top of the body. Photos were of victim and a woman other than his wife.”

***

“Sounds accurate. Does it say if his clothes were found?” I took a long sip of wine after I asked.

“Ummm…. here we go. ‘Clothes were later found and bagged by Forensic Pathologist Stein at the upper level of the structure by the stairwell.’”

“Vanessa does have an eye for detail. I will give her that.”

“How soon before she showed up here?” Christian pushed his plate away when he finished the last of his pasta and washed it down with the rest of the wine in his glass. I promptly refilled it.

***

Friday, January fourteen was the first time I met both Vanessa and Frank in the formal capacity of Detective and Forensic Pathologist.

Vanessa was a breathtaking sight. Tall for a woman, five foot nine inches, raven black hair and the deepest blue eyes I had ever seen. Frank was quite the opposite. Small, frail looking, blond almost reddish hair and green eyes. He looked so much like Victor it was uncanny.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Gray. May we come in? We have some questions for you.” Vanessa was straight and to the point.

“Of course, Miss…”

“Detective Aves. This is Dr. Stein.”

“Please, come in. Get out of the cold.”

Frank instinctively looked around at everything. Vanessa walked past me and made herself comfortable in the armchair next to the couch.

“Mr. Gray, we are investigating a homicide and would like to ask you a few questions.”

“Homicide? Of whom?”

“A Mister Lucas Bronte. Did you know him?”

I had to admit, Vanessa’s questioning technique needed some serious work, and Frank looking around at everything made me nervous as fuck, but I never allowed it to show.

“Not that I recall. Should I?”

“His wife Linzy said you took some photographs of them, at your studio?”

“You don’t mean the pregnant girl? Her husband was murdered?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. Linzy also said you went to the hospital the day of his disappearance.”

I did not want to seem too eager with my answer. I had to play it off some. I walked over to my credenza and pulled out my appointment calendar.

“What day was that Detective?”

“December twenty-ninth.”

I flipped back to December’s calendar to the date in question.

“Now I remember. She had called me two days before saying she was to be induced. I did, in fact, go to the hospital and dropped off the family portraits.”

“Why did you do that? She could have picked them up - later.”

“Yes, she could have, but with the stress of the new baby, I wanted to make sure she had them beforehand.”

“That was nice of you. Did you see Lucas?”

“I did. He was in the room with Linzy and her mother.”

“How was he acting?”

“Fine, I guess. He seemed irritated but I figured it was from the baby coming early.”

“When you took their portraits, did he act in the same manner?”

I paused for effect before I answered her question. Frank sat on the sofa while I remained standing.

“Would you like some coffee or tea? I can have my butler make some.”

“No, Mr. Gray, we haven’t time for that.”

“If you say so… the day of their shoot, Lucas was out of sorts. Halfway through, his phone started to ring. Linzy… Mrs. Bronte became irate. They had an argument in the studio.”

“What was the argument about.”

“I only picked up on some of the conversation even though he was yelling so loud. He said he had to go, something about work. She bitched about money. Next thing I knew he slammed the door and was gone.”

“Did you drive Linzy home that night?”

“I did, I told her to save her money for the baby. She lives not too far from the studio.”

“What happened when you left her hospital room?”

“I stopped off at the nursery to look at the new babies. I heard a cellphone go off in her room and glanced up as Lucas left the hospital.”

“You didn’t see him after that?”

“No, I didn’t. There was no reason for me to see either of them again. Unless they booked another photo shoot.”

“For someone who takes pictures for a living, you have a lot of artwork.” Frank finally spoke.

“I am proficient in photography, but I prefer painted portraits.”

“We have all the answers we need for now. If we have any more questions we will be in touch. Good afternoon, Mr. Gray.”

Just like that Vanessa and Frank left my house.

“How long before you saw either of them again?” Christian asked as he polished off his bowl of Cherries Jubilee.

“It wasn’t too long after. I held a fundraiser for the New York Botanical Garden.”

“Something you do often?”

“Every year. As you know I’m into botany.”

“Yes. Hence the rose bushes and such around the grounds?”

“Precisely. It amazes me how something so delicate can exist for such a fleeting moment in time. Captivating beauty, yet some are deadly.”

“Like a beautiful woman?”

“Haha... you are learning, my boy.”

***

Three months after the investigation started into Lucas’s death, I held my annual fundraiser for the New York Botanical Garden. When the studio was slow and I was not wandering around the farmer’s markets, I went there. I found solitude in the peace and quiet it held.

On my guest list for the event, I added Detective Aves and Dr. Stein. Some may have thought it crazy to do so but I had selfish reasons. I wanted to know them better as people and Vanessa captivated me as soon as she walked through my door. Whether they showed or not would be another story entirely.

The party was in full swing, and the elite of the elites were there. Hob knobbing for the sake of social graces. They spared no expense when it came to donating. One had to outdo another.

Bentley oversaw announcing the guests as they arrived and I mingled amongst the crowd, helplessly looking for my raven-haired beauty.

I tapped a spoon against the champagne flute I held in my hand to get everyone’s attention. When the room fell silent, I made my speech.

“I want to thank all who are here this evening. And I thank you all so much for the generous donations. They will be put to good use in the preservation of a place we all have grown to love over the years.”

A few chuckles could be heard around the room at my pun. I looked around the room to continue and I saw her… she was dressed in a black, floor length evening gown. Her hair was loosely tied in a braid at the back of her head. She wore a simple blue tear drop sapphire around her neck and had a matching pair of earrings. The accentuated her eyes perfectly.

I had hoped she would come by herself but a few seconds later, Dr. Stein followed closely behind. He was stuck to her like a fly to flypaper. He was no competition though. At least not the way I saw it.

***

“Competition?” Christian and I had retired to the great room once again. Only this time, he sat in the armchair to my right.

“Yes. I had every intention of courting her.”

“Wasn’t that crossing some professional lines?”

“Like I gave a shit.”

***

“Please enjoy the rest of your evening. There is plenty of food and drink for all.” I finished my speech prematurely.

I weaved through the crowd until I was face to face with the beauty before me.

“Good evening, Mr. Gray. Thank you so much for the invitation,” Vanessa said as she grabbed a flute of champagne off a serving tray one of my staff was circulating.

“You are most welcome. I honestly didn’t think you’d come.”

“And why is that Mr. Gray?”

“I assumed you would be too busy with the investigation.”

“Even detectives need a night off occasionally. Besides, it’s for a great cause. Speaking of which…”

Vanessa reached into her small clutch that matched her dress. Black in color, with a silver chain. She produced a small, folded piece of paper and placed it in my hand. I unfolded it and tried not to act as surprised as I was.

“Detective Aves, this is very generous of you. May I be so bold to ask if you can afford this? If not, I will gladly compensate.”

Once I listened to what came out of my mouth, I realized I had stuck my own foot deep inside. Vanessa did not seem to notice. If she did, she did not make a scene.

“Please, it’s Vanessa. And yes, it is perfectly within my budget.”

“Inheritance, you mean,” Dr. Stein chimed in of his own accord. I sensed some jealousy that was not there before.

Vanessa elbowed him hard in the ribs. Frank excused himself and began mingling amongst the guests.

“Well, however this was acquired, I do thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Gray.”

“Dorian, please.”

“It’s my pleasure, Dorian.”

The way she said my name threw me into a tailspin. She had a slight accent. If I was not mistaken, she sounded like she hailed from the very place I had, or her ancestors had at one point.

“I detect a slight accent, Vanessa. Do you not hail from here?”

We began to walk through the party guests. Vanessa would stop in front of one of the portraits hanging on my walls and would make idle chit chat.

“I do not. My ancestors came to England in the eighteen hundreds via France I was born in England and ventured to the states sometime later.”

“So, they were there through all the chaos before the turn of the century?”

“They were. I have heard stories, and it sounds like it was an event I am glad not to be part of.”

“It was very interesting…”

Before I knew it, what I tried so hard to keep hidden from most people, had slipped out. Vanessa was unphased. I must have had an exasperated look on my face. Vanessa leaned in close to me.

“Mr. Gray, nothing you say surprises me. I have done my research on you, and I know how long you have been around.”

“Again, it’s Dorian, and this does not hinder or scare you?”

“No, we all have our crosses to bear, Dorian. Me included.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Most do when they hear about it. I have been to many shrinks over the course of my life. They would just as soon lock me in a padded room than believe what I have to say.”

“Does Dr. Stein know?”

“He does. I’m sure you know what he thinks.”

“Given his family history, I’m surprised he’s not trying to cure you.”

Vanessa gave a giggle and threw her head back slightly. From her reaction I concluded that Frank had tried.

“He tried to no avail. You can’t cure what I have. There’s only one way to cure me, Dorian.”

“Do I dare ask?”

“You can ask all you like. You won’t receive an answer. Not yet anyway.”

There was hope that I would see her again. My heart fluttered in my chest. As I was about to ask Vanessa a question, Frank sauntered over.

“Quite a turnout you have here, Mr. Gray. Very impressive.”

“Dorian, please.”

“Okay, Dorian. Do you always hold events like this one?”

“I do. April is always for the Botanical Garden. July is always for the Museum of Modern Art, and this October I plan to hold a seance, just for shits and giggles. On Halloween, of course.”

“That sounds interesting. I hope to be on the guest list for that one.”

“You have my word. You both will be.”

“I look forward to it. On that note, I must bid you good night. The work of a pathologist never ends.”

“Thank you for coming.”

“You’re welcome. Vanessa, are you coming?”

“I think I’ll stay a little while longer. See you tomorrow.”

Frank was put off by Vanessa’s comment. He had hoped she would leave with him. All the better for me that she decided to stay.

Dr. Stein turned and abruptly left the party. To say I was upset would have been an outright lie. He watched over Vanessa like a hawk. It unnerved me.

“What is on the agenda for the rest of the evening, Mr. Gray… er, Dorian?”

“This is pretty much it. It’s a rather boring course of events.”

“I see. It’s getting a little stuffy in here. Might we go out and get some fresh air?”

Without speaking I extended my arm and Vanessa wrapped hers around it. I leisurely escorted her out the French doors and proceeded to walk her around the garden.

“You have a beautiful set up here, Dorian.”

“I have worked hard for what I have.”

Again, Vanessa giggled. She knew better. Better than most.

“Dorian, you cannot fool a detective. Like I said, I know all about you. I want to know if it’s true.”

“If what’s true?”

“Did you really sell your soul to the Devil?”

“I did. “

“You voluntarily sold your soul, and he wants to possess mine, but I won’t give it.”

“Strange how life works. Not to change the subject but have you ever been to the Botanical Garden?”

“I have not, I’m afraid. I have lived here long enough, but I just haven’t made it there.”

“Would you like to go? With me?”

Vanessa stopped walking and turned to face me.

“Are you asking me on a date, Dorian?”

“I am.”

“I would be crossing the line of professional courtesy. But, seeing as how you are no longer a suspect in the ongoing investigation, I see no reason to turn you down.”

“Then shall we plan on it for your next day off?”

“Yes, I will leave my number with your butler. I, however, must be going.”

“So soon?”

“Yes. It’s getting late and a lady does need her beauty sleep.”

“Vanessa, no amount of sleep can make you look more beautiful than you already are.”

She tipped her head down as she blushed from her neck to her face. She was a sight to see, even in the pale moonlight of the evening.

“Thank you for the compliment, Dorian. I had a lovely time.”

“As did I. I will ring you next week.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Let me escort you back inside.”

“I’m a big girl. I can manage. Good night, Dorian.”

“Good night, Vanessa.”

Vanessa leaned in and gave me a gentle kiss on my right cheek. The next thing I knew she was gone. She left me standing in the garden feeling good about things.

***

“Sounds like a budding romance.”

“It was in the beginning.”

“Am I to assume it didn’t last long?”

“Not as long as I would’ve liked, no.”

“Have you remained friends at least?”

“Yes, but not like we were before. Shame really. I had such hope for us.”

“Any more killings during this time?”

“Surprisingly, no. I was focused on courting Vanessa.”

***

A week after the fundraiser, I rang Vanessa at home and confirmed our date for that coming weekend. She said she was taking a few personal days to regroup, and the Botanical Garden sounded like a great idea.

I was going to be all aristocratic and have a driver go pick her up, but I talked her into letting me do it myself. She agreed. Was I being selfish? Absolutely I was. The more time I could spend with her, the better.

The week flew by with ease. The studio was busy and before I knew it, I was on my way to pick up Vanessa. I had butterflies in my stomach and my palms were sweaty. I had not felt that way since Lily.

Vanessa lived on the Upper East Side of town in a posh housing development. I was quite surprised when I researched the address. Then I remembered the remark that Frank made about an inheritance. That explained how she lived in the same size house, if not slightly bigger, than my own. I was sure she made a better than average salary but not for something this astute.

I pulled into her drive and parked outside the front door. I nervously got out of my car, which I had waxed and polished a few days before, and walked to the door. I pressed the doorbell and nervously awaited her to answer. Much to my surprise, she too had a staff of servants.

The woman was a conundrum at best. Did I think less of her? Absolutely not. Everyone had things in their past they intended to keep hidden. Said things would only be known when the party chose them to be.

“Hello, I am here to see Miss Aves. She’s expecting me. Dorian Gray.”

“Right this way Mr. Gray. May I take your coat?”

I handed the strapping man who answered the door my light overcoat that I had been wearing. It was considered spring in the natural course of things, but it was creeping in like a lamb. This day was cooler than normal, and the wind was starting to pick up.

As soon as I entered her foyer, my eyes were drawn to the focal point: a massive staircase. The wall immediately to my left was adorned with pictures of her family. They went back generations. Call it strong genes or plain fate, but the Vanessa that was in this time, looked exactly like the Vanessas of centuries past.

I knew she had her own demons, but I wondered if she had died multiple times and was reincarnated back into herself for lifelong torment. I had related to two others throughout my lifetime through family history; being connected to Vanessa in the same manner would not be far-fetched. I hoped I would eventually get her story out of her.

My host for the moment told me to follow him through the foyer and led me to a room that was to the right of the front door. It was her rendition of a great room. It was sparse in décor apart from a large wood desk, one singular couch, wall to ceiling bookcases, and a map of the world that took up the entire wall behind the desk.

“Have a seat, Mr. Gray. Miss Vanessa will be down momentarily.”

I decided not to sit. Instead, I looked at which books were on the shelves and wandered over to the map on the wall. I noticed straight pins and strings within the map. Someone had been to a lot of destinations. I assumed it was not Vanessa, as her job prevents her from venturing on such extravagancies unless a planned vacation.

Whomever documented their travels on this map seemed to be enchanted with the continent of Africa. I, myself, had never been. I never saw the infatuation with it. My butler, Bentley, had relatives there and often went back when time allowed.

I turned when I heard the small but distinct footsteps of Vanessa coming down the stairs and finally into the room. She looked comfortable. She wore what looked like riding pants, a pair of black boots that went to her knees, and an over-sized black cable sweater.

“Good morning, Dorian.”

“Good morning, Vanessa. How are you faring this fine spring day?”

“I am faring well. We ready?”

“Yes. Follow me, my lady.”

“Are you always so formal?” Vanessa giggled when she asked. I loved to hear her laugh. It made me wonder what other glorious sounds I could make come out of her.

“In the company of a true woman? Always. I hope it does not distract you.”

“On the contrary, it’s a welcome enjoyment. Something I haven’t had in quite some time.”

“I hope you find the day just as enjoyable.”

I helped Vanessa with the shawl she insisted on bringing since the wind was unpredictable and I put on my overcoat.

“Aasir? I’m leaving now. I don’t know when I’ll be home. Please don’t wait up.”

Aasir emerged from around the corner of the hallway that I assumed led to the servant area or the kitchen.

“As you wish, Miss. Things will be left as they always are when you return.”

“Thank you. Take some time for yourself. Everything has been done here.”

“Yes, ma’am. Have a great time.”

Without another word, Vanessa turned to the front door and attempted to open it herself.

“Allow me, Vanessa. Today you will not be opening your own doors.”

“Thank you, Dorian.”

We walked out and I opened the car door for her and once she was inside, I closed it behind her. I walked around the front and let myself in next. I started her and let her idle for a moment before we took off.

“Would you mind if we stopped for coffee? It seems to be the day for it.”

“Of course. Where?”

“There’s a shop on the corner of Aspen and Quail that I absolutely adore.”

“I believe I have been there. It’s not far from my studio.”

I drove to the desired location. When we passed Aspen, I could not help but get a tinge in my stomach. I wondered how Linzy was fairing. Instead of being cheesy and going through the drive through. Vanessa wanted to go in. I had no problem with it. The more time I could spend with her the better.

I asked her to pick a table and I would order what she wanted. She chose a white chocolate, skinny latte with skim, and I ordered the opposite. A mocha latte with heavy cream. I patiently waited at the end counter for our coffees. When I walked to the table, I noticed Vanessa was staring in the direction of Aspen Road.

“Work on your mind?”

“Excuse me?”

“You seem distracted.”

“I was just thinking about Linzy, is all. To have to live with the fact that your cheating husband was murdered while raising his child has got to be hard.”

“I imagine it would be. I feel badly for her.”

“So, do I. Her mother is trying to talk her into leaving here. Get a fresh start somewhere else.”

“We could all use a fresh start now and then, regardless of the circumstances, I suppose.”

“I guess you’re right. You never properly answered Frank’s question when we came to interview you.”

“What question was that?”

“About the paintings and the photography.”

“Oh, that. I didn’t think it required an elaborate answer.”

“Elaborate, Dorian. I am curious.”

“Well, as I said I am prolific in photography, but I have always enjoyed paintings.”

“I noticed you have no landscapes.”

“I prefer people. Landscapes are monotonous. Portraits tell more.”

“Don’t they just capture a moment in time?”

“No, Vanessa. They do not. Photographs do. Paintings capture eternity.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Photographs are instantaneous. One click and the moment is captured. Paintings take longer. The hours it takes, the hours of sitting if commissioned. You must look at them and wonder what their life was like. What they were thinking about as they sat for so long.”

“I suppose I can see your point.”

“Think about it. The painters who paint landscapes are rather boring. They are the ones sitting for hours capturing something.”

“That makes sense. I believe I have warmed from the coffee. Care to show me the wonders you find so magnificent in the Garden?”

“Yes. We have much to explore.”

I grabbed her empty coffee cup and threw it away along with mine. Instead of extending my arm I gave her my hand. To my surprise, she grabbed it with a coy smile. The drive to the Garden took about a half an hour. The building itself was white. The ceiling was fashioned after a green house. Immense windows to allow for maximum sun exposure for the plants that needed it. Those specific species were kept on the top floor. The shadier species on the bottom.

Vanessa wanted to start at the top and work her way down. It made sense, but there was no way of seeing everything in one day.

“This is breathtaking, Dorian. I can’t believe I have never seen it before now.”

“When work overloads the senses it’s easy to miss the beauty around us.”

“Yet with as busy as you are, you seem to notice it all.”

“Only if it interests me.”

“Do I interest you, Dorian?”

“Very much so, Vanessa.”

She grabbed my hand tighter and continued to walk with me. We spent the afternoon talking and getting to know each other. I must admit, I had been enjoying myself. I answered what questions Vanessa had about certain species and before we knew it the gardens were closing for the day.

“Have we really spent the whole day here? We barely scratched the surface.”

“It takes a few times before you see everything the Garden has to offer.”

“Can we come back?”

“Why, Vanessa, are you the one asking me out this time?”

“Admittedly so, Dorian. I hope you accept.”

“A gentleman always accepts the invitation from a lady.”

“Great, I will ring you next week to set up a time.”

“I shall give you my number when we return to the car.”

“No need. I already have it.”

“Would you like dinner? I for one am starving, and I can’t seem to tear myself away from you. Not yet.”

“I could eat. Where would you suggest?”

“Have you been to Chinatown?”

“Not in some time.”

“There’s this cozy Chinese restaurant.”

“Are you talking about Fang’s?”

“Yes! Have you been?”

“It is one of my favorites.”

“Fang’s it is.”

***

“Sounds like you two had a pretty decent evening.”

“Before we knew it, we had talked the whole night away. I sadly had to say goodbye, but we solidified our plans for the following weekend.”

“How long did you court her?”

“Six months in total.”

“Not very long.”

“No, it wasn’t but I experienced something I never had before.”

“Love?”

“Something much more heartbreaking than that.”

***

To say we had a whirlwind romance would have been an understatement. Things progressed with Vanessa at a fast pace. I did not mind in the slightest. She was everything I could have hoped for in a woman.

She was smart, intuitive, savvy, and willing to please as much as wanting to be pleased. The crazy part is, we had not had sex. We were nearing the end of September. Five months of courting and had yet to be physical.

I had decided when I started to pursue her, I would let her take the reins when it came to that aspect of the relationship. I wanted to see how long it would take. We had gone back to the Garden after being absent for a few weeks. There was a new flower on display that I wanted to show her and get her opinion on.

“Dorian, what is this flower?”

“It is up here on your right. The purple one.”

Vanessa stood in front of it in wonderment. She took in its fragility yet its sturdiness. She stared at it for a few minutes before she uttered a word from her enchanting lips I so desperately wanted to kiss.

“I have never seen something so beautiful.”

“Don’t let its beauty fool you. For that flower is a femme fatale.”

“This fragile little thing?”

“Yes. That is the Bella Donna plant. Tell me what you see when you look at it.”

“A purple flower.”

“No, Vanessa. What do you see?”

Vanessa closed her eyes and began to search her mind.

“I see something that is misunderstood. No matter how hard she tries, she cannot escape the stigma that surrounds her. The darkness, the unknowing. While deadly, she wants to be considered beautiful. She wants to be wanted, accepted.”

Vanessa’s inner desires spewed from her lips without a second thought. It was the most beautiful moment I had spent with her thus far in our relationship. She finally showed her vulnerability. It was the sexiest thing ever.

Vanessa came out of her inner trance moments later, flushed and beside herself.

“I’m sorry, Dorian. I don’t know what came over me.”

“You had to let out your story at some point. I’m glad I was here.”

“You haven’t heard all of it. I’m afraid it would scare you off.”

“Try me. Come back to my place. My staff is off for the evening. It will be just us. Tell me everything.”

“I’m afraid that would take exorbitant amounts of wine and somber music.”

“The lady asks, and the lady shall receive. Please, Vanessa do me the honor of keeping me company.”

“All right then.”

We drove back to my estate. Vanessa went immediately to the great room and made herself comfortable on the sofa. I went to the wine cellar and returned with three bottles of wine. All red. All various ages.

Vanessa did not care which I opened first so I took my chances with the newest merlot I had in stock. I uncorked the bottle and carried it with two wine glasses to the seating area. Vanessa was on the end of the couch where I normally sat so I opted for the armchair. I wanted her to feel as comfortable as possible.

After she swallowed the first glass in one gulp and refilled it, she proceeded to tell me her story.

“Dorian, do you know what it feels like to have forces battling for your soul?”

“No, but I know what it feels like to battle with my own soul.”

“Not the same thing. I literally have two forces at work. Brothers to be exact.”

“Who would they be?”

“Promise me you won’t say another word until I am finished with this. You’re the only other person I have ever told besides Frank. And he thinks I’m crazy.”

“Says the one who tries too hard to keep his ailment unseen, himself.”

“You could tell?”

“Yes. He only looks in certain directions depending on where he stands in a room. I also noticed the purple birthmark under his shirt collar at the fundraiser.”

“That happened in a birthing accident. Forceps or something clamped on him too hard, resulting in the disfigurement.”

“Much like his grandfather’s monsters.”

“And the same addiction.”

“Morphine?”

“Yes. He thinks I don’t know but it’s obvious.”

“Enough about him, Vanessa. Who are these brothers?

“Lucifer and Dracula.”

Before she went on, I asked if I could take a photo of her. She looked perfect with the light from the fire that had been made before my staff left for the weekend. She agreed.

“What do you intend to do with this small piece of my soul that you are about to capture?”

“I intend to save it.” I snapped three pictures and sat back in my chair.

“I’m afraid my soul cannot be saved, Dorian. Not in the biblical sense. There is only one way I can be saved. I am not ready for that yet. So, I keep fighting them. Moreso Dracula. He’s the one that wants me the most.”

***

“Umm… not to sound like a schmuck. But does Dracula really exist?”

“Who are we to question what someone believes, Christian. If Vanessa believed Dracula was a part of her life, then who was I to disagree.”

“I guess so. She just sounds a little crazy.”

“I suppose she would. Her whole family had suffered from some sort of mental disease. As far back as the eighteen hundreds. Back then they would put you in a padded cell, perform electroshock therapy, and if that didn’t work, lobotomies to release the “bad stuff” in the mind.”

“That’s what they called it? Bad stuff?”

“Yes. They figured that by drilling the hole either on the side or the front of the brain, the demons would escape.”

“That’s fucking crazy!”

“There’s a half-truth in everything, Christian. Don’t forget that.”

***

Vanessa continued and told me of her ancestral history. Every woman named Vanessa underwent the same fate. Demon possession, the community believing they were natural witches and the mother of all evil, an ancient Egyptian Goddess named Amnet. She also divulged the other things she could do. She was proficient in a variety of paranormal skills: Cartomancy: The practice of divination using tarot cards.

Clairvoyance: The practice of divination through the perception of emotions, objects, people, or physical phenomena.

Intuition: The practice of divination through the use of instinctive knowledge.

Mediumship: The practice of divination through the communication of spirits.

Psychometry: The practice of divination through contact with or proximity to a certain object or person.

Tasseomancy: The practice of divination based on the positions and symbols of tea leaves, and mediumship which needs no explanation.

***

“Why won’t she use these abilities at her job? She would have things solved in a matter of minutes.”

“It was her secret to keep as she saw fit.”

***

“Now you see, Dorian. Now you see why they are summoning me. I have something they want… something he wants. He won’t let me go until he gets it.”

“Fight them, dear Vanessa. Fight them with everything you have.”

“I do, Dorian. Every fucking day. It’s unnerving. I think I am losing my mind.”

“When do they bother you most?”

“At night when I’m alone. The darkness I once enjoyed has become loathsome.”

“Before I ask this next question, I need to know. We have spent a lot of time together lately. What do you read from me?”

“That’s just it, Dorian. I can’t read you at all. You are the only peace I seem to get from my chaotic life.”

“Then stay with me.”

“What?”

“Stay with me. At least for tonight. Let me give you the night of peace you have been wanting for so long.”

I was on my knees in front of her as I spoke those words to her. Vanessa’s eyes began to well up with tears.

“Dorian…”

“Shh… my lady. Let me take care of you tonight. Indulge me that honor.”

“Okay. Would you mind if I took a hot bath before bed?”

“Of course not. I will even run your bath water.”

I picked Vanessa up from the couch and carried her up the back staircase to my bedroom. I set her down on the bed and walked into the bathroom and began filling the claw foot tub with hot water.

Vanessa soaked in the tub for as long as she could stand the steaming hot water. I had given her some space and went out to collect the mail from the box. I grabbed a letter opener from the desk and carried it upstairs.

I made myself comfortable and was in the middle of opening my mail when I saw Vanessa out of the corner of my eye. She had emerged from the bathroom stark naked and dripping wet.

“Did I forget to leave towels in there? I am so sorry.”

“Dorian, there were plenty of towels. I sometimes like to air dry.”

I found myself speechless. The woman was exquisite. The curves of her hourglass figure were so feminine and soft, with breasts proportionate to her ample ass. She had to be all of a thirty-eight C cup.

Her raven hair was slicked back on her scalp. She had a red glow on her skin from the steam in the bath and her lips had become a little darker than they were before. She was a vision. A vision I wanted to defile. In the worst way possible.

“Would you like one of my shirts?”

“Would you be surprised if I told you I sleep in the nude?”

“No, I do the same.”

“We are both adults. I think we can handle ourselves. Yes?”

“Yes, I think we can.”

That was an outright lie. As soon as she crawled in the bed with me, I would be on her in a matter of seconds. I believed deep down she hoped for that reaction. I undressed myself and took a quick shower of my own. To my surprise Vanessa was still awake when I came out.

What happened next was pure bliss.

My eyes were locked on Vanessa between my legs as I sat with them spread apart on the bed. I looked up and down at her body as she gently pulled my chin up, so I was looking at her directly. She then kissed me, and without fighting or resisting, I kissed back, letting her tongue in, responding to her every move.

When she lightly pushed on my chest I laid back, shifting my legs so they were together once again. Vanessa crawled over to me, stroking my cock. As soon as she got me hard, which did not take very long as she caressed me with precision, she placed her body over mine.

I shifted some, I wanted to grab her voluptuous hips, but she was having nothing of the sort. She started to kiss me and slowly lowered herself onto me, I flexed my thighs and thrust into her. Matching my upstroke to her downstroke. This time would be quick, but it was heaven, nonetheless.

I sighed, rubbing my tongue against hers in time with my thrusts as I first slowly slid out and then back in. I kept the slower pace going until she sank farther onto me and bit my lip. I started picking up speed, kissing her with passion.

Vanessa observed the letter opener on the nightstand. She took it in her hand and pointed the blade toward my skin. She wanted control of the situation, and for once in my life I handed it over, willingly, and completely. She sliced it into my left pectoral muscle. It oozed a small stream of blood which Vanessa licked off my skin with her sensual tongue. She drove me over the edge in a matter of seconds.

Once she was almost flat up against me, and I was moving in and out of her like a jackhammer, her hand coiled painfully around the base of my shaft to keep me from coming, as she was about to come for the first time, her muscles quivering around me. Vanessa arched her back and threw her head back in bliss. When she faced me again, something had changed. The look on her face was one of horrification.

I closed my eyes as I slowly started back up again, my balls aching and my muscles growing weary. I shifted some, trying to get a better position, trailing kisses down her neck, causing her to moan in pleasure. I winced slightly as she sank her claws into my shoulder as her climax started to build again.

Before she was able to have her second climax and me my first, she was off me in a split second. Something had gotten to her. Something had gotten into her mind.

“I’m sorry, Dorian, I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean? We were almost there, baby. Don’t stop this.”

“Dorian, I have to stop. The consequences are too great.”

“We are a perfect couple. Imagine what we could do together.”

“We are a couple made for disaster, is what we are.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do Dorian… if we were to continue this, we would literally have the Devil’s spawn. I cannot bring innocents into my turmoil. This was a huge mistake!”

Vanessa started gathering her clothing from the floor. I had to stop her somehow. I could not let her return to her home in the state that she was in.

“There are no mistakes in life, only situations and consequences we choose to put ourselves in.”

“That is of no help, Dorian. The Master is displeased! I cannot continue this. I will not continue this. For your safety as much as mine!”

“Vanessa, please, give this a chance. I’m immortal for fuck’s sake. What more can you do to me that hasn’t already been done?”

“I don’t know, Dorian. But he will find a way. He always does. Finding me here proves that. I’m sorry, I must go and never return.”

I flew out of the bed and placed my hands around Vanessa’s arms that seemed so frail at that moment.

“Vanessa, please. Stay with me, let me take care of you. Let me help you through this.”

“No one can help me through this. It’s my burden. I am not about to bring it to someone else.”

She forcefully removed herself from my grasp and flew down the stairs to the kitchen. Bentley, who came back early from wherever he went, saw Vanessa’s state of undress. He did not question. He simply gave her an extra overcoat he had on hand. By the time I reached the bottom of the stairs, he was escorting her out the front door.

***

“Wow! Talk about harsh.”

“Harsh doesn’t begin to describe what I was feeling.”

“Did you hear from her again?”

“I called her for the next few weeks. She refused to take my calls, both at home and the station.”

“Did she ever come to the séance?”

“She did. But things between us had changed. Drastically.”

***

It was Halloween night, and the séance was due to start. Vanessa and Frank had yet to show. I thought they would be absent. Given the way Vanessa was acting towards me, I would not blame them for not showing.

As I was about to start, there was a knock on the front door. Bentley answered it and I saw Vanessa and Frank walk in together.

“Vanessa… Frank… so nice of you to join us. Please take a seat.”

Vanessa spoke first.

“Thank you, Mr. Gray. Frank, would you mind sitting next to me this evening?”

What the actual fuck? Not only was she avoiding me, but she also turned the relationship back to formal and professional. That made my blood boil. I sat to the left of the world-renowned medium I had hired for the evening. Miss Tribedeaux was her name. She took pride in what she did and assured me the guests would be enlightened and satisfied with the experience.

Bentley dimmed the lights in the parlor. Aside from appropriately placed candles, the only light illuminating the space was from the fireplace. Miss Tribedeaux started her spiel about holding hands, staying connected through the experience, blah, blah, blah. Then began the ceremony of summoning spirits.

Things stayed quiet for the first few minutes. Out of the blue, Vanessa went into some sort of trance and began breathing differently. Something was occupying her body, that much was clear. What it was, no one had a clue. She began speaking in tongues at first. Some ancient Egyptian language, then in a voice that was not her own she warned that death and destruction would be set upon the Earth. For she was the mother of all evil. Once she consecrated with her mate, the world as we knew it would cease to exist.

Vanessa stayed in the trance for a good five minutes, spewing everyone’s dirty laundry for everyone in attendance to hear. Whatever was inside her even had a go at me. She claimed to know that I was an immortal being who should not be allowed to walk this Earth. I had been infesting it for far too long already. She told Dr. Stein that he was an abomination from birth, the consequences of his family lineage and what they had done to innocent souls in the past.

The guests thought it was part of the show. Only Frank and I knew the truth. Miss Tribedeaux was not sure what to make of what was happening. She had never had a séance go this way. Hers were plainly for show. I genuinely thought she would come out of her skin.

Once Vanessa’s demon was finished and left her body, Vanessa passed out on the floor. I never felt as helpless as I did in that moment. My beautiful lady was flawed beyond words. That made me love her even more. She and I were one in the same. We could not deny it, yet she was at every turn. I ran and grabbed a throw pillow to put under Vanessa’s head as Frank ran to his car for his smelling salt, to bring her back around.

Within a matter of moments, Frank was by her side wafting the small vial under Vanessa’s nose. She was back amongst us within a few moments. Frank quickly got her to her feet and began escorting her out.

“I sincerely apologize. Miss Aves had a trying evening. I am taking her home for some needed rest and relaxation.”

I could not help myself. I followed Frank and Vanessa out.

“Vanessa, please don’t do this. Give us another chance. We could be so good together.”

“Mr. Gray, accept the fact that it is over. The only way you will ever see me again is in a professional capacity, and I hope for both our sakes that never happens.”

“Vaness…”

“Good night, Mr. Gray.”

Frank placed Vanessa in his car gingerly. Careful not to hit her head on the door frame. Once she was comfortable, he closed the door and turned on me in a millisecond.

“Dorian, give her some space, and time. She will eventually come around.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“She will. She admitted to me that she was happiest with you. Let her figure all this stuff out.”

“How much time do I give her?”

“As much as she needs. She will reach out when she’s ready.”

***

“It’s been twenty-three years. Not a single word from her,” I said as I reflected on our brief relationship.

“Is she even at the station anymore? In an official capacity?”

“I’m not sure. I never bothered to check.”

“How were you feeling after that?”

“I was at a loss at what to do honestly. Rejection was something I had never experienced. It was a new feeling for me. A feeling I hated.”

“I can see how that could happen. I mean you two seemed like you would fit well together.”

“I thought so. So much so, hers is the only photograph I keep on display in this museum of art pieces.”

“Where is she?”

I got up from the couch and walked to the credenza. I had placed her picture in a sterling silver frame. Her eyes were still her most predominant feature. The craziest thing about the whole situation was I still loved her. To the bottom of my core. I could not explain it.

I handed the picture to Christian. He studied it with fervor.

“She is a magnificent creature. I can see why you were so enamored with her.”

“I still am.”

“Excuse me?”

“I still love her Christian. So, help me, but I do.”

“She has obviously moved on, Dorian.”

“I don’t know whether she has or not. She still refused my calls as of two years ago. How much space does one person need?”

“If she is still wrestling with these demons, it could be an eternity for her.”

I took Christian’s statement to heart. They always say people develop feelings for ones they cannot have. Such as the case with me. I could not accept the fact that Vanessa was a passing fancy that would never be.

When she first rejected me, I was in a frenzy. My own demons invaded my brain from November to the end of December. That’s when I could not take it anymore. I snapped. I began looking for my next kill. He was not that hard to find.

“When did your manic side come out again?”

“The end of December, the year after I killed Lucas. So, the year two thousand.”

“What prompted this one?”

“It wasn’t a picture like the last one. It was something I saw within the man’s face that clued me in.”

***

I expanded my horizons that winter and walked through Central Park. I had never been and wanted to see if it was as magnificent as people claimed it to be. Although it was beautiful with the snow-covered ground, there was nothing that I found to be extra special. It was a huge park, that was it in my mind. As I walked back to my car, I stumbled upon a very obese man with two children. The children looked half-starved. It was a shocker to me considering their father was so large in comparison.

“Please, Papa. Momma lets us have one when we come.”

“I’m not your mother. You can wait for her to feed you.”

The man was standing in front of a soft pretzel vendor. He purchased four pretzels for himself and neglected his children. The very act sickened me. I walked up next to him, ordered three pretzels of my own and handed one to each of the children.

“Excuse me, sir. But I said they couldn’t have any. They have done nothing to deserve such a treat.”

“No child should have to beg for food. Especially from their own parent.”

“What I do with my children is none of your fucking business, dickweed!”

I bent down so I was level with his kids. I told them to take the pretzels and sit on the nearby bench to eat them privately. When the children departed, I laid into their father.

“You, asshole, are the one being the dickweed. I don’t know you, but I don’t like what I see here. Believe me when I tell you I will make things right.”

I walked away as the man called me every name under the sun. I watched as he left soon after. I wrote down the license plate of his car and went on my merry way. That would not be the last time the man saw me.

I rushed home and ran the plate number with a little help from Bentley. He was wise about that type of thing and his source never asked any questions, and he would never say a word to anyone. I found out that the obese jackwagon was a man name Jude T. Dickenson. He shared joint custody of the children with his now ex-wife.

I wondered if his size led to the divorce. Maybe he spent all their hard-earned money eating when they were together. He lived not too far from Central Park. He was on the Upper West Side of the park in Manhattan Valley. I had plans for this guy. Sick plans. I had to make sure it took place when his kids were at their mother’s house. They did not need to bear witness to their father’s fate.

“It sounds like you patterned these killings off the Seven Deadly Sins.”

“I did. The first being lust. This one had gluttony written all over it.”

“Did you finish all seven?”

“No. During this phase I completed four.”

“What of the other three?”

“Only time will tell.”

***

I went back to the park the following weekend and noticed that Jude was nowhere to be found. If my hunch was correct this was the weekend the kids were with mom. I had my supplies in the truck of my car for such an occasion. My tactics had changed over time. This would be a different type of kill. Slow and agonizing.

I carried with me a shotgun, a scale, a timing device, and of course my ski mask and gloves. Those two were always standard. I pulled into his drive and placed the ski mask over my face. My gloves were already on my hands as it was the middle of winter.

I peeked through the window and saw him sitting at the kitchen table stuffing his already enlarged belly. The scene made me sick to my stomach. To see someone gorge themselves with food for the sheer pleasure of it was baffling.

Without warning, I kicked in the front door to his home. Jude was so large, his reaction time was slow. By the time he figured out what was happening I was already inside and in his face.

“What’s happening? What do you want?”

“I’m here to make you suffer, Jude. And you are going to help me.”

“Help you? How?”

“You have a computer, right? Probably keep it in a corner somewhere so you can watch your porn uninterrupted?”

“Yes, it’s in the living room.”

“Show me.”

“But I don’t…”

“Show me you fat fuck! Get your ass off that chair!”

Jude did as he was told, under extreme duress. His body was incapable of moving as quickly as he would have liked at that moment. He pointed to where his computer was and tried to make a run for it. One side step off my foot and he was flat on his face in the middle of his own floor. That bought me time. I ran to my trunk and grabbed the shotgun, scale, and the timer device.

I also grabbed the string that was there as well. I needed something to rig the shotgun. I returned to see Jude still struggling to get off the floor. I could have shot him right then and there, but I wanted to prolong his agony.

I put the scale under the chair on which he sat. It was a normal everyday scale that people had in their bathrooms. He must have been more than four hundred pounds. It was digital so I would be able to see if my efforts were working.

I moved the computer desk to the center of the kitchen, opposite where Jude sat. I placed the shotgun on the tripod it came with and rigged the trigger with the string. I attached it to the doorknob of the front door. I decided, last minute, not to use the timing device.

Jude had managed to roll himself to his side and crawled to the couch for support as he worked himself off the floor. I grabbed him before he went out the front door. The man was pitifully slow.

“Where do you think you’re going? You haven’t finished eating yet.”

The sight that was on the table made me want to vomit. I swear he used his entire paycheck to buy his favorite take out foods. In front of him were five buckets of chicken, six bags from a fast-food burger joint, three dozen donuts, six two liters of soda, pies, cakes, not to mention the two full racks of ribs with corn, baked beans, coleslaw, mashed potatoes, and extra barbeque sauce on which he was currently working. You named it he had it on the table.

“Why are you doing this? I’ve done nothing to you.” Jude began to cry. He was beside himself with anguish.

“A little birdy told me you treat your kids like shit. Why is that?”

“I don’t know! I’m a horrible father!” Jude’s sobs increased.

“Sit your fat ass down and stop crying. Men don’t cry.”

Jude reluctantly sat in the chair that I had on top of the scale. He weighed in at a hefty four hundred and ten pounds. For some reason I thought he was heavier than he was but that made no difference.

I sat in a chair off to the side, just behind Jude. Sweat started pouring off his body with fear. I loved it when they squirmed.

“Answer me one question, Jude. Are you planning on eating this in one sitting?”

“I was going to divide it into two sittings.”

“How can you eat so much, and give your kids nothing?”

“It’s not easy to explain.”

“Try me. Oh, and while you do, eat away.”

He refused to touch his food. He went on to explain to me that his desire for food and the feeling he received from eating so much superseded anything and everyone. Including the well-being of his children.

“I don’t know why I do it. It’s like if they take my food, I am missing out on my sole pleasure in life.”

“Aside from your porn. I’m surprised you can even find your dick to jack off.”

“That’s not funny!”

“It’s not supposed to be. Here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to sit here and eat every morsel of food on this table. If the scale does not produce one pound an hour you will die.”

“That can’t possibly be done!”

“The other scenario will be you eat so much that you start to vomit. Being the fact that you are obese already, the forceful movements in your esophagus mixed with the vomiting itself will cause an esophageal tear. By the time the wife calls for a wellness check on you, you will already be dead, essentially choking on your own vomit.”

“What if I promised you that I would make sure my kids were taken care of from now on?”

“You had what? Eleven years to make it right? It’s too late, Jude. Your time has come. Start eating.”

“But…”

“I said, start eating!”

Jude did as I said. Once the first morsel of food hit his lips and his taste buds, he went into his automatic comfort zone. He was oblivious to the fact that his life would end the next day. I just had to be patient and bide my time.

The first hour passed and Jude managed to put the first pound on easily. Same with the second and the third hour. When the fourth hour rolled around, he was becoming fatigued. His head started to droop toward the table. I slapped either side of his face as hard as I could to keep him awake.

“Wake up, Jude. You have barely touched the surface. I had hoped that you would last a little longer. How much do you value your life?”

Jude picked up the pace after that. He double-fisted food and shoved it into his mouth like it was his last meal, which it would be. He continued at that pace for three more hours. Seven pounds in seven hours. I heard strange noises coming from his gut. They did not sound good. He was ready to expel most of the food he had just shoved into his mouth.

I removed myself from the chair as I did not know which direction he would hurl. He could not get up from the table fast enough. He ended up vomiting in his lap. The smell was putrid. Stomach acid and bile were at the forefront.

“Come on, Jude. Shove some more food into that gullet of yours. You know you want to. Don’t let a little sickness sway you.”

“I… I can’t… no more… please.”

“That wasn’t the deal, Jude.”

‘Please… I beg you… just let me go.”

“Can’t do that either. Eat up!”

Jude reluctantly started again. He made it through a dozen donuts before he vomited again. Blood was mixed with this latest episode. I had seen and smelled enough. The man was pathetic in his own right, obsessed with food. As I said, I was never one to judge but this was deplorable. I walked over to the computer and uploaded a porn video. I kept it on loop, so when the police did find him, he would not be painted in that great a light.

“We’re done here Jude. Relax a bit. I’m leaving.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me just yet.”

Oblivious to what I had said, Jude unzipped his vomit laden jeans and took out his dick, placed it in his hand and tried to get himself off. That was the last straw. I slowly walked out of the living room. While I was on the other side of the door, I waited a few seconds before I slammed it shut. When I did, the shotgun went off at the same time. I peered through the window and saw Jude still sitting in the chair with his head back, dick still in hand. The only difference was Jude’s face was no longer recognizable.

***

“What about the serial numbers on the shotgun?”

“Filed off.”

“Who did the gun belong to?”

“Not sure, I bought it from a private seller.”

“Smart.”

“I always covered my tracks. You know this.”

“How much food did the guy eat?”

“A third of what was on the table to start with.”

“Holy shit. That’s a lot.”

“Enough to feed a family of four for a week would be my guess.”

“It seems January was your favorite month to kill.”

“Not in the beginning, I went all year long then. Now it’s just a matter of circumstance.”

“I suppose so.”

Out of curiosity I asked the following question.

“Did Vanessa and Frank include notes on Jude’s killing?”

Christian rose and grabbed a file off the table where he usually sat. He opened it and looked through the papers.

“They did. Official cause of death, shotgun blast to the face at close range. They also noted that had the victim not been shot, it was in Dr. Stein’s opinion the victim would have eventually died from suffocation.”

Both were accurate. I never expected anything less.

“How many more murders were there? There were two over the course of six years. I will only touch on those tomorrow. The details of those can be found in the detective’s and doctor’s notes.”

“Fair enough. I’m heading up. You coming?”

“I will in a bit.”

Christian walked up to his room and I stayed on the sofa a bit longer, waiting for sleep to finally overtake my body. Reliving all the events in my life began to take its toll on me both mentally and physically.

For the most part, I had been extremely happy with the way my life had turned out. It was the demonic part of me that had me up at night questioning myself as a human being. Everything I had done; I did with a reason. Or at least I thought I did. Had I really turned out to be the vile person that my soul plagued me to be?

Reiterating the words and events to Christian had made me hate myself. I was no better than anyone else in this world. I began to see it. I, much like Vanessa, fought it with every fiber of my being. Within two days, Christian would be gone from my home. My story would be told, and soon the whole world would know who I was.

At what price? The price of forever being alone in a dark and dismal place. When the story was ultimately published, I would deal with the consequences. If the police decided to reopen the cases with the new information I had given, so be it. My life could not get any worse than it already was. The one true love of my life rejected me. One can only take photographs of people for so long before becoming completely bored with the subjects. My time with that had come.

Maybe I would finally travel a bit. There were so many places I had not seen. Ironically enough, the first place I wanted to see was Africa.

During one of our dates, Vanessa informed me that the map was a gift from her best friend’s father. He came by from time to time to check in on her. A second father if you will. At least she had people that cared enough about her to do so. All I had was Bentley and my staff.

I said it once and I will say it again, living a life of immortality is a very sad existence. Acquaintances you outlive… save yourself. Loved ones die off and are no more… save yourself.

Lord Henry told me once that one should absorb the color of life, but one should never remember its details. Details are always vulgar.

Here I was recording every wretched detail as if it happened yesterday. My own vanity made sure of that. I wanted so desperately to be loved and remembered I forgot about my own sanity.

Fatigue began to set it. I peeled myself off the couch and headed up to my room. I was spent. I was glad that this interview was almost over. I was not sure how much more I could take. Christian was a thorough reporter. No stone left unturned. He asked all the right questions without intruding much. His ability to make me spill my guts was formidable.

I reached my room, opened the door, gently closed it behind me and flopped on my bed. I had not bothered to change; I was that tired.

The following morning would prove whether this was to be my final day with Christian. I had slept like shit the night before and it showed upon my face. Christian was perky as ever.

“Home stretch, big guy. Almost done.”

I said nothing as I grabbed two aspirins from the drawer in the end table and swallowed them without water. I rang Bentley and advised him to keep the coffee coming. I needed every ounce of caffeine to get me through the day.

“Are you feeling up to this today? Do you want to wait until tomorrow?”

‘No, let’s finish it. We are close to the end.”

Bentley returned in record time with an urn full of coffee and massive amounts of sugar. He always took care of me.

Christian wasted no time and began with the questions before I had my cup poured.

“You said there were two more murders over the course of six years. Is that correct?”

“Yes. One in two thousand four and the last in two thousand seven.”

“Start with the one in two thousand four.”

***

Again, it was January. I went to a local bar around the corner from the studio. A drunken, boisterous man, who reminded me of my former partner was bragging about the fact that he made a six-figure income and drove a nice vehicle. A Maserati to be precise. When I pulled up in the bar parking lot, I saw no such vehicle. The arrogance on this man was unbelievable. He looked like one that would spend an hour in the mirror just on his hair. He turned to me as I sat and proceeded to tell me that he always looks at himself every chance he got. The fun fact about this one was the fact that as he was telling me about it, he was staring at himself in the mirrored glass behind the bar.

He struck a nerve.

“Wait. You, yourself are vain. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have sold your soul to be forever young.” Christian found it necessary to remind me of that very fact.

“I know, Christian. It’s not like I bragged to anyone about why I did it.”

“Touché… continue.”

Like I said, he struck a nerve. The man was full of shit, and I knew it. His pride had overrun his ass. He had no such vehicle that he bragged about. He may have had the six-figure salary, but it was probably for something he was not qualified to do. He probably pushed paper all day. Nothing worthwhile.

“I’m about to get my face plastered on a billboard ya know.”

“I see.”

I did not really care. He was bugging the fuck out of me. No matter how hard I tried to ignore the man, he was in my face.

“Yeah, no telling what will happen next. I can see myself retiring within the next year as a millionaire.”

“On a six-figure salary? Not likely.”

“What the fuck do you know, asshole.”

“I know your math doesn’t add up. I would say fifteen years tops before you get to retire. Not one.”

“I need to take a piss. Then I’m leaving.” The man stumbled off the bar stool and walked crookedly to the restroom. He came out ten minutes later. The man was obliterated. He walked past me and was out the front door quicker than I could move. I followed him out.

“Hey, buddy. Need a ride? I notice your car isn’t out here.”

“It’s the middle of winter dipshit, I can’t drive it now.”

“Let me drive you home.”

“Not necessary.” The man slid on a patch of black ice a few feet from the bar entrance and landed flat on his back.

“I think it’s very much necessary. Quit being an asshole and give me your hand.”

The man, whose name I later found out was John, extended his hand and accepted my help. I held onto him as we walked to my car. He poured himself into the passenger’s side once I opened the door. When I was inside and started the car, I cranked the heat. Halfway through his description of where he lived, he passed out. No roofie needed.

I drove him straight back to my house. John was snoring heavily when we reached my home. Bentley heard the commotion in the drive and came outside. As I walked past him, I told him to put the contents of my front seat into the basement. I would deal with him shortly.

Fifteen minutes later I headed down to my cave. John was leaning against a wall, still comatose. It was time to wake him up. I picked up the bucket I had next to my feet and threw ice-cold water at John’s face. He was awake within seconds. I taped his hands together while he was passed out. He tried to get his bearings.

“Welcome back, John.”

“Where the fuck am I?”

“I call it my cave, but you are in my basement.”

“I thought you were driving me home.”

“Where? To your palatial homestead that you do not have. That has a garage for the car you do not own?”

“What do you care what I tell people?”

“Vanity in and of itself, I don’t mind. We all have it. What I can’t stand is braggards. And you, my friend, seem to be a big one.”

“Again, what do you care?”

I did not answer his question. Instead, I removed the ostrich skin belt from around his waist and placed it on the floor next to him. Next, I went to the aquarium I had set up in the farthest corner of the space. John’s eyes grew to the size of quarters when he saw what I had taken out from its home.

I held in my hands a Timber Rattlesnake. I had found him on the docks the night I killed Lucas. I kept him as a pet. Having stirred him from his relaxation, my pet had grown pissed. His tongue darted out; his rattle shook incessantly. He was ready to strike. What I was about to do would piss it off more. I placed the snake into a gunny sack that was next to his aquarium.

John continued to speak to me the entire time, but I had tuned him out. His voice bothered me. I placed the gunny sack over his head, and quickly secured it at its base with John’s belt around his very own neck. This would keep the snake from escaping.

Snakes did not like sudden movements. The first thing John did was thrash his head about, hoping to get the sack off his head. My snake was growing more irritated by the minute. When I heard the first strike of its fangs hit John, a blood curdling scream came from his mouth. The more John fussed, the more the snake struck. Four strikes in, I had enough. I left the basement and left him to his own devices.

***

“How long before you went to check on him?”

“Half an hour. My snake was quiet once more and so was John. Having expelled huge amounts of venom into John’s face, I placed a fresh rat in the aquarium. I then gingerly checked on the position of my pet. He coiled himself on the top of John’s head. I felt around for his head and placed my hand just below it as I unfastened the belt from around John’s neck. I lifted the snake and the bag off in one motion and turned the bag, so its opening was facing me. I walked to the aquarium, placed the bag inside and my pet slithered out a few moments later. I removed the bag and secured the lid.”

“What happened to his body?”

“That I could not tell you. I didn’t remove it.”

“Where was he found?”

“Back at the docks. Timber Rattlers run rampant through those structures.”

“The third deadly sin down. Pride.”

“Yes.”

“And the last killing?”

***

That happened in the spring of two thousand seven. I was commissioned to do a photo shoot for a local author in the area. She had only been writing for a year at that time and decided her covers needed some pizzazz, as she put it.

She was completely smitten with two of the most popular cover models in the area. Both muscular, both arrogant as all get out, and both were certain they would get the job. She had informed them both that she would make her decision as to who would be featured on her cover after the shoot and she looked at their individual photos.

What she was precisely looking for she had no clue. She said she would know it when she saw it. I began to take pictures of both men in various poses. One was trying to upstage the other, but I managed to get the shots that I deemed worthy of her work. I had not personally read any of her works, but the buzz around town was nothing short of amazing.

I uploaded the photos to the computer and the author took her time looking through them.

“This is the one, right here!” she said excitedly as she frantically pointed to the screen. “Can you send it to this email address?”

“I will do it right now.”

As I hit send on the keyboard, she tore off a personal check for the amount on which we agreed. She wrote two more checks to pay the models. She handed each of them their payment and told them who in fact got the job.

The one named Ricardo, who was all of six foot five, toned, and showed just the right amount of muscle, was the lucky recipient. Franco was not so lucky. His jealousy reared its ugly head in seconds. So much so, he started a fist fight with Ricardo. I yelled at the top of my lungs for them to knock it off. I did not want my studio to be destroyed over someone’s jealous bullshit.

Ricardo regained himself, apologized and left soon after. The author followed suit immediately, leaving me alone with a brooding Franco.

“Look, Franco, I’m sorry you didn’t get the job, but you still made a good pay day.”

“I’m a better model than that asshole. It should have been me!”

Frankly neither one caught my attention in any special way. Sure, they were both good to look at, but none were that special. Franco, whether it was out of sadness or pure lust, made a move on me that I had not expected. He moved in close to me and tried to grab the back of my head and pull me in for a kiss. Being the alpha that I am, that was a complete turn off. Having Vanessa do it was one thing, but another man? Completely out of the question.

However, my mind immediately went to another scenario entirely. I played with Franco. I mind-fucked him like he had never been mind-fucked before. I reciprocated his kiss, much to my dismay, and led him to the table where I had fun things. Some of the women that came in wanted kinky photos taken of them, so I kept handcuffs and the like around for such occasions. Once his ass was against the table, I reached around him and grabbed a pair. I dangled them in front of his face.

“Are you into a little kink?”

Franco’s eyes told the entire story. The man was turned on as much as I was repulsed. Once I placed the handcuffs on his hands, I kissed him passionately until we stood in front of the stainless-steel barrel I had placed against the wall, with a stainless-steel drain system in the floor. The lid was always kept off the barrel to dispose of anything and everything that was irrelevant to my business.

The barrel contained one hundred percent grade hydrogen peroxide.

I quickly turned Franco, so he faced the barrel.

“Oooh, water punishment. One of my favorites.”

Without another word, I grabbed Franco’s right hand, and his face went directly under what he thought was water. As soon as his face hit the liquid, I grabbed his legs and plunged him all the way in. Within minutes, Franco ceased to exist.

***

“Wait, it’s only hydrogen peroxide. How does that do any damage?”

“Google the grade I specified. You’ll see.”

“Envy off the list then. What of greed, sloth, and wrath?”

“They haven’t happened.”

“And if they do?”

“I will make sure you are the first person I call when things die down.”

“So, you’re sure you’ll kill again?”

“Once a killer, always a killer. I don’t care what anyone says. The urges never really leave no matter how hard you try to stop them.”

‘No, I suppose they don’t”

“If you have any more questions for me, feel free to call. Or stop by, you know where to find me.”

“Sixteen years dormant. That’s a long time. Yeah well, I think I may do some traveling like you suggested earlier. Keep my mind occupied on different things.”

“I’m going to pack up my things. I want to be out of here before two. I have a lot of things to piece together from what you have said, and the notes Vanessa and Frank left for me.”

I admitted to myself I was sad to see Christian leave. He was the only bit of normalcy I had in a very long time. He would be missed. More than he knew.

A half an hour later, Christian bounded down the stairs with suitcase in hand. He placed it next to the table on the floor as he gathered the rest of his belongings, putting them all in the appropriate places.

“This is it. It’s been an honor and a privilege getting to know you, Dorian Gray. To say that you’re an ordinary man would be both an insult and an understatement.”

“It was a pleasure getting to know you as well, Christian. I wish nothing but the best for you in your future endeavors.”

I placed my hand out for the courtesy handshake but when Christian took it, he embraced me in a hug. Another thing I had not had the pleasure of receiving in centuries. He hugged me tight, and I returned his hug in kind. We separated and he turned to pick his suitcase up from the floor. His hands were full, so I escorted him to the door and watched as he got into his car and went down the drive for the very last time. I knew right then I would never see Christian again.

I shut the door and locked it. I then did something I never thought I would. I went upstairs and took a nap.

Dorian Gray Estate

Three months later, October 12th, 2023

It was Fall once again and Halloween was upon us. This year I decided not to hold the annual séance. People had grown overly fascinated by them. I honestly did not want those type of people in my home.

I resigned to the fact that I would spend a quiet evening alone, as usual.

I had closed the photography studio a week after Christian left my home. I grew bored and looked for something else to occupy my time. I studied travel brochures to see where my next epic adventure would take me.

I was reading a brochure on Sweden when Bentley came into my library. I spent most of my time there as of late. Something about the proximity to books and knowledge piqued my curiosity. Not to mention it was one of the quietest places in the house.

“Sir, this arrived for you.”

Bentley held in his hand, a thick, oversized manila envelope. Before setting it in front of me, he informed me that it came from the news desk of one Christian Cumberbach. It must have been a copy of the story he was about to unleash on the world.

“Thank you, Bentley.”

Bentley took his leave and left me staring at the envelope. It was much too thick to be a piece in the newspaper or a magazine. It looked to be as thick as a novel.

I could no longer stare at it. I moved it closer to me and turned it over. I unclasped the butterfly clasp used to secure the contents inside and pulled out the papers in their entirety. On the very top of the stack was a handwritten note from Christian.

***

Dear Dorian,

As much as I tried to keep your story short and sweet, I found that I could not and do it the justice that it deserves. I hope you will not be mad but enclosed you will find a copy of the official manuscript that has transpired. It is set to be released worldwide on Halloween of this year. I wanted you to have a copy.

I hope you find it as amusing as I did when I wrote it. I hope life finds you well.

Your friend,

Christian.

***

I did not know what parts of my life Christian could have possibly found amusing, but I was about to find out. Bentley returned with fresh chai tea and a few scones. He always knew what I needed before I did. He set the serving tray next to the settee I had in the room.

After I poured my tea and added two teaspoons of sugar to it, I walked back to my desk and grabbed Christian’s manuscript. I laid it out as best I could and began to read the tale he had spun about me.

It was late into the evening when I finally finished what my boy had written. Considering it was his first novel, he did extremely well. The title was to be “Immortal Sins.” Quite fitting if you consider what I have done throughout my life.

The picture he had painted of me was as accurate as could be. The alpha, anti-hero asshole who tried not once, but three times to redeem himself to no avail. You either loved, hated, or felt sorry for me. It would all depend on the reader.

Having read it myself, and seeing how Christian described me, hit me. Hard. I had begun to hate myself by the end of our interview sessions. The fact that I now hated myself even more was at the forefront of my mind.

Every little fucking detail was mentioned. Every murder, every kink, every fucking thing about my life out in the open for the whole world to see.

Without thinking, I picked up the phone and called Christian. I had to find out if the book was his intention from the start. If it had been, I never would have agreed to the interview. I never would have put myself in such a vulnerable position. After the fifth ring, Christian answered.

“Dorian? It’s late. What do you want?”

“Was this your intention from the start?”

“Was what my intention?”

“The fucking book. Was it your intention from the fucking start?”

“No, Dorian. I explained that in the note. You are too complex a man to have some shit ass story written about him. You are not some headline in a newspaper or magazine. You, sir, are novel worthy.”

“This is not what I wanted, Christian. This is not how I want people to remember me.”

“Dorian, that vanity is getting the better of you again. You are who you are, Dorian. There’s no changing that fact.”

“And what exactly am I?”

“You are a man. A dominant, sexual, sadist man who gets off by killing. You are capable of love, I have seen it firsthand, but everything you touch, my friend, turns into shit one way or the other. The ability to help other people is not your strongest quality. Though there, it comes with a byline of what’s in it for you.”

“That’s not a fair assessment, Christian.”

“Isn’t it? You drove Linzy home only to kill her husband. You took Lily in, treated her like a queen, only to throw her out when you became bored. You loved Cybyl centuries ago, only to dump her when she changed not to your liking. At least Vanessa had enough sense to leave before the shit hit the fan.”

“And what do you think will happen to me when this goes public in a few weeks? Huh? Life as I know it will be over, for good!”

“Chances are, nothing will happen to you. It hasn’t yet. Dorian always finds a way out of things.”

“Rescind the publication. Tell them you changed your mind.”

“I’m not about to do that. I already cashed the retainer check. It’s a done deal.”

“God dammit, Christian!”

“I’m sorry, Dorian. There’s nothing more I can do. Please don’t call me again.”

Without warning, Christian hung up. I called back immediately only to find he had blocked my number. It went straight to some bullshit recording.

I paced the floor of my library. I had to think of a plan to stop the release of the book. Hell, I did not even know where he submitted the offers. It could have been any one of the dozens of publishing houses throughout the city, if not in another state entirely.

I became so enraged with not only Christian, but myself as well, I started throwing things around the library. Antique books, first editions, flew across the room. Irreplaceable glass pieces shattered and strewn to the floor. I even went outside to my gardens and pulled out my prize-winning rose bushes by hand, not caring that the thorns made my hands bleed.

Bentley found me an hour later lying in the dirt next to what was left of my bushes. He picked me up and carried me up to my bath. He had already filled it with a generous amount of warm lavender water to calm my nerves.

Knowing Bentley the way I did, I would wake the next morning to find the mess I had made cleaned up, all books would be repaired to the best of his ability, and my rose bushes intact once again. I was never sure of what type of magic voodoo shit the man did but he did it well.

It was one o’clock in the morning before I removed myself from the tub. My skin never wrinkled no matter how long I stayed in water. Another less exciting benefit of immortality. Not that any of it mattered anymore, to anyone.

I lay on my bed, unable to sleep. When my eyes did close, I tossed and turned out of anxiety. I wanted to remain immortal, but fuck, this would become a steep price to pay. Christian was right; I would not do well in prison.

Bentley heard the restless noises coming from my room and promptly entered with a glass of water and a sleeping pill. I was not a pill popper by normal means, but I needed something to take my mind off what Christian was about to do to me.

I had used and played with people for one hundred and sixty-four years. I found it ironic that in just two short weeks, I had been the one played. Well done, Christian my boy. Well done.

I slept restlessly but soundly through the night. Whatever Bentley gave me made me incoherent enough to not leave my bed.

What sleep I did manage to get brought me to places I no longer wished to be. The faces of all the people I had done wrong throughout the years plagued my thoughts. From my very first kill to the last, thirteen years ago. A dark shadow lingered in the back of my thoughts. Its face I could not see. Was this to be my last and final kill? If it were, it would put the release of the book on hold until Christian came back out to write about it.

In my sick and twisted mind, it sounded like a solid plan. I just had to find the next person to kill, even if it were for some random, stupid reason. I was finally jolted from sleep when I saw the vision of Vanessa’s face. My dear, sweet, tormented Vanessa. I hoped life had treated her well.

My eyes shot open in an instant. My mind was sharp, but my body had yet to respond.

With everything I had in me, I forced myself out of bed and lazily padded to the bathroom. I had to take a gigantic piss.

Once I splashed cold water on my face and made myself somewhat presentable, I trudged my ass down the same flight of stairs I always had. Today it seemed like it would never end. Bentley waited as usual for me to get my bearings and stood patiently as I got my ass to the dining room table. I plopped myself into the chair haphazardly and bellowed that I wanted coffee.

“Sir, may I advise some orange juice.”

“No, you may not! I said I want coffee!”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

“It is I who am sorry, Bentley. It was a rough night last night. I shouldn’t take it out on you. Leave the orange juice, but I will still take that coffee.”

“Very good, sir. I will return shortly.”Thoughts of where to find my next kill haunted me. I could not just kill some random person, could I? Everything I did, I did with purpose. Finding the right person would take time. Time of which I did not have.

I forced some breakfast down me. It was only fruit, but it filled me enough to give me some much-needed energy. It helped prepare me for what I had to do next. I told Bentley to not disturb me unless the house caught fire. My staff was off for the weekend, so he was the only one present.

I took a long, deep breath and walked through the great room until I reached the door. I had not been through that door in thirteen years. It was about time I paid a visit. I needed advice on how to handle my soon to be situation.

I opened the door and stepped through the passageway. I waited for the door to fully close behind me before I proceeded forward. To say I was nervous was an understatement. Petrified was more of an accurate word. I had not looked at my painting in over a decade. I was afraid to see how it had transformed itself.

I slid in the chair that was placed in front of it and refused to raise my head. It knew I was there.

“Look at me…” The voices inside my head started to speak. “Look at me, asshole. Rest your eyes on the monster I have become!”

Okay, I realize how this may have looked. An immortal man talking to his soul in a painting that should technically have no voice. Welcome to my world. I had searched for approval from this beast of a man before me for so long, I did not know where he started and I ended. Technically we were one in the same, yet we were very much different.

I refused to look at him. He knew I stalled. The longer I did, the more enraged he became until he had finally had enough.

“You fucking, insolent excuse of a man! Draw your eyes upon me before I do something I will regret! You created me… I demand you look at your masterpiece!!”

His choice of words brought me back from my own mind. I slowly raised my head and looked at what stared back at me. I was mortified. He was no longer the man I recognized. A once virile, aged man was a complete abomination.

Completely white skinned, hunched over so badly he rested on his knees. The look on his face was one of utter disgust and torment. His hands and feet were in shackles, and he remained attached to a wall. The only feature that stayed the same were his eyes. They remained the same color as mine.

“What have I done…”

“You know exactly what you did… boy! You let your vanity get the better of you yet again! Have you learned nothing!!”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“You understand perfectly! You are just too conceited to admit to anything! The boy, Christian, figured you out… he knows who you truly are. You know what you must do…”

“No! I will not kill the boy!”

“He played you for a fucking fool… end this and end it now!”

“Killing him will not undo the damage done. If I kill another, things could be prolonged. I need to find another and fulfill another deadly sin… he will come back to add that to his book.”

***

“Ha! You’re kidding yourself, Dorian. He is done with you. Everyone is done with you. Dorian Gray ceases to exist on the lips of others. You are a has-been, a washed up piece of shit who must now live with what you have done to keep your precious immortality.”

Innocent blood had been split. What could atone for that? Ah! for that there was no atonement; but though forgiveness was impossible, forgetfulness was possible still, and I was determined to forget, to stamp the atrocities out of my mind. To crush them out of existence like one would do with a bug that bit them.

“Ha, you’re fooling yourself, boy. There is only one way to be free.”

What did he mean? How was I to end it if I refused to kill another?

“What exactly do you mean?”

“Deep in your mind and heart you know what must be done.”

What the bloody fuck was he talking about? What was it that must be done? He was of no help in matters such as these. But then again, he never really gave a fuck. I sank further down into my seat, stared at my now enemy and contemplated what he wanted me to do.

The Picture Room, Dorian Gray Estate

The Morning of Friday, October 13th, 2023

I stayed in that godforsaken room with my painting the entire night, trying to figure out what he meant. I had three sin killings to complete.

“Have you not figured out the solution yet? You are dumber than I thought.”

“Shut the fuck up… if you know what the answer is, then tell me. Spare me this headache!”

“Don’t be so fucking lazy!! Work that brain of yours!! You claim to be one of knowledge. You read and study everything! Has common sense removed itself from your way of thinking?”

“Common sense has not left me by any means! The puzzle pieces are not adding up! I cannot see what you are trying to tell me!”

“It’s right in front of that pretty face of yours. Search and you will find it.”

My painting had begun to piss me off. To call me lazy and all but moronic tested my patience. I sat back in the chair and stared at the demonic figure before me. He had changed so much over my lifetime; I was becoming repulsed by looking at it.

“You know, had you left me a middle-aged man, I would have been much happier. But no. Your vanity and greed turned me into this monstrosity!”

My vanity was no secret to anyone. That was always made abundantly clear by the way I acted and reacted to things. But greedy? How dare he say such a thing!

“How dare you say that to me! I am anything BUT greedy!”

“Oh really? How many people have you swindled out of money to fund a life that was way beyond your means? After you killed all those women, you robbed them of their money… you could have had a moderate but lucrative lifestyle when in London.”

“Moderate is not who I am! Growing up the way I did, dictated how I turned out to be!”

“That’s a cop out! You enjoyed the game that you played. You relished in being in control… of EVERYTHING!”

“Only under your advisement!”

“I had nothing to do with your ultimate decisions! YOU were the one who planned everything… YOU were the one that carried out your plans… not me, my boy. I am but a mere after-effect of everything you have done and continue to do in your life.”

I was slowly beginning to understand what my painting was telling me. It had become a mirror of myself. There was once a real pleasure in watching it. The painting was once able to follow my mind into its darkest secret places. The portrait was once to me the most magical of mirrors. Now it was a nuisance. As it had revealed to me my own body, it also revealed to me my own soul.

Was this what I had become? A feeble, shell of a man with no reason to live? What a stupid thought! I had everything to live for! I would exist for an eternity. The pact I had made with the Devil so long ago sealed my fate. I could not change it.

“Haha… do you think Dorian Gray will truly live forever? They have already forgotten about you! You are a has-been. You are now just a normal man, living a sad, lonely life.”

“I have done many wonderful things for this community… you can’t deny that.”

“Let’s see, you killed over three hundred women claiming that you were saving their souls. Yes, you did hold fundraisers and such for the right reasons, but only half the money ended up in its rightful place. With as conceited as you are, I’m surprised you never mentioned all that to Christian.”

“He found out on his own. It’s in his book.”

“You have been labelled as an embezzler and a murderer. That’s something to be proud of. Again, your greediness ruined so many things. Not to mention your love life.”

“I have loved! Plenty!”

“Okay you keep telling yourself that. Cybyl killed herself because of you, Lily was thrown out because she became too domineering, Vanessa had the good sense to leave, and Christian? The ultimate one-night stand that never should have been. He played you from the time he walked through the front door!”

“I suggest you stop talking, you’re starting to piss me the fuck off.”

“You need to be pissed off, Dorian. The only reason this happened was because of you, plain and simple. It was no one else’s fault but your own!”

“Christian was the one who asked to meet with me! Not the other way around!”“True, but what you chose to tell him was entirely up to you. You could have painted yourself in a semi-boring light. You could have stuck to all the good you had done, but no. You had to go into every fucking detail of your life. You ruined yourself.”

“I fucking hate you, you know that. Always condescending, never supportive!”

“What are you going to do, Dorian? You’re stuck with me forever! There is no escaping me! I will be the bane of your existence for as long as you fucking live!”

I had heard enough. My portrait’s words drove me to the breaking point. I stormed out of the tomb where I kept my once most prized possession. I stomped behind the bar in a huff and grabbed the letter opener from its display case. I carried it in my right hand as I reentered the space.

“What are you going to do with that, Dorian? You’re not man enough to do the inevitable!”

“I. FUCKING. HATE. YOU!!!”

Before I knew it, I had stepped as close as I could to my painting and plunged the blade straight through the canvas. The maniacal laughing that emanated from within its frame drove me further. Get rid of the painting, lead a normal life until I died a decrepit old man.

As the incessant laughing continued, I put both hands on the handle and with everything I had within myself, I sliced the painting from corner to corner. I stepped back, looking at the damage I had inflicted with my blade.

I began to feel different. Before my eyes, my portrait was slowly turning into my former self. As I looked at my own body, I realized I too was transforming. I was becoming the decrepit old man that was once in the picture frame.

“It’s about time you found the fucking courage to do what should have been done long ago.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Those were the last words I uttered from my lips as my feeble, broken body fell to the floor. The blade remained in my right hand. As I watched in silence, my portrait had rejuvenated to its former self, my former self. The blue orb of my soul released itself just as the painting combusted into flames. Where its path would lead, I had no fucking clue.

Before I closed my eyes for the last time, I understood. I understood everything my portrait tried to tell me. Of course, my former self could not resist one last dig before my legacy went up in flames.

“Even in death, you managed to fuck things up. I can no longer be restored. I will burn to ashes. Your soul will belong to the Devil indefinitely. For you committed the ultimate sin of them all. You broke the pact and used free will.”

“Only because you drove me to it.”

“No, Dorian. You drove yourself into this madness. You finally did what you needed to do to put an end to it all. Although, you will never find peace.”

I no longer had the strength to fight. My will to live, taken from me in one desperate act of a crazed lunatic. Moments later, Bentley stormed into the room. He had heard the commotion from within. As he entered the doorway, the entire house began to shudder and shake as if in the middle of an earthquake vortex.

Bentley stared at my nearly lifeless, unrecognizable body, said a silent prayer for my soul and exited the home as the shaking got worse. I hoped he had gotten out. Bentley, of all people, did not deserve to be dragged into the depths of Hell with the likes of me. He was of purer heart than me.

This was to be the end of my story, the end of my legacy. The end of Dorian Gray. Was there life after death? I know Dr. Frankenstein always believed such. I guess I would eventually find out for myself.

My last thoughts before I perished were of Vanessa. Always Vanessa. I hoped that she was able to conquer her demons. I hoped that she was living the life she deserved, and most importantly I hoped that she found someone to love her the way she so desperately wanted to be loved.

The frame of the house began to crack under its enormous weight. The walls caved in on themselves. My artwork fell from the walls, shattering upon impact. Debris from the ceiling fell on my body with such a force, it crushed me where I lay.

I felt nothing. I was no longer on the same celestial plane as my former reality. I was dead, lifeless.

I hope you found my story to be as exciting as it was to retell it. Some of you may love me. Some may hate me. Some may believe I was the biggest asshole on the planet. It matters not what any of you think.

The wrath of Dorian Gray may be over, but my painting was wrong about one small detail. I would forever remain immortalized. Christian’s book would make sure of that.

***

Nine pm. Friday, October 13th

The news desk of Christian Cumberbach

I had been sitting at my desk, tidying up the remaining edits before “Immortal Sins” was due to hit the press for publication. I was alone in the newsroom, so things were going rather smoothly. I had no distractions.

Just as I had inserted my last period that was missing from a paragraph, my phone sounded an alarm indicating that an emergency news feed was coming through.

I picked the phone up from its wireless charging port and opened the app where I got my information. The headline read:

Estate of Socialite Dorian Gray Found in Ruins

What the actual fuck? Three months ago, the home was standing and in one piece. What had he done?

The reporter on the scene was describing how there was very little left of the home. The cameraman panned around the area. It was like the house never existed. The gardens were gone, the back patio and pool, gone. The entire house, gone. The only things visible were a few shingles from the roof and a few pieces of wood from unknown parts of the structure. By some strange twist of fate, the guesthouse remained completely intact.

Dorian was nowhere to be found. A body had yet to be discovered. There was no inkling that he had even been there. His precious car was missing as well.

I was not sure what to think. Had Dorian faked his own death? Had he gone to some far-off land knowing what he was about to face when my book was published?

Dorian always found a way out of all the shit he did. He was living proof of that. Immortal or not, I was sure there would eventually be something that brought him down. Maybe the publishing of my book was it.

The reporter found Bentley walking around in a daze. How was Bentley still alive? The reporter went up to him for comment. I turned up the volume on my phone…

Ten pm, Friday the 13 th

The lot where the Dorian Gray Estate once stood.

“Excuse me, sir? Can you tell me what happened here?”

Bentley stared at where his employer’s house used to be. He knew the man was troubled from the time he was born, and he knew it would be Dorian himself that sealed his fate. He needed to explain things. He needed to explain things to Christian.

“Could you start by telling us your name? What on earth happened? Is Dorian Gray alive? What was he like as a person? Will he ever be heard from again?”

“Miss, I will try to answer all your questions. But please, let me speak.”

“My name in Bentley Abu. I was the butler and lifelong friend to Dorian Gray. I had witnessed many things in my lifetime, but nothing like what I saw this young man become.

I started in his employ shortly after he left Times Square. He had just purchased this massive estate and set it up to his liking. To me, it was much too big for one person, but Dorian was never one to do without. I thought it reckless, but if Sir was happy, we would all be happy.

In the next few weeks, the only other person to see Mr. Gray alive, aside from myself, will be releasing a book about his life.

“To explain how Mr. Gray was as a person will truly do him no justice. To fully understand how he was, I suggest you read the book.

“Regarding your other questions, I do not believe we will ever hear from Dorian Gray again. He is, in fact, dead. How can he not be? There is nothing left.”

“What exactly happened here? This area is not known for earthquakes or twisters.”

“Keep an open mind. For what I am about to tell you may seem very unbelievable.”

Bentley waited as the reporter shook her head in agreement before continuing.

“Dorian was a very vain man. Everything he did reflected that. He wanted to be the center of attention. He wanted to be the immortal one, no matter what deals had to be made. What happened here tonight was a supernatural occurrence. I witnessed it with my very own eyes.

All the rumors you have heard about a painting being locked away were true. The portrait contained his soul. He was in a battle with the deadliest of sins and acted where and as he saw fit, no matter what the outcome. Regardless of the consequences.

“Tonight, he learned a hard lesson. With four of the seven sins battled, he had three more to conquer. He learned much too late that the last three sins were within himself. The sin of sloth, the sin of greed, and the sin of wrath.”

“Don’t we all have a little bit of all the seven deadly sins within us?” The reporter had asked a very valid question.

“Each of us has a bit of Heaven and Hell within us. It is what makes us human. Dorian could not accept that fact. He was lost in his own reality where only he was the one that ultimately mattered, now he is paying the ultimate price. The past could always be annihilated. Regret, denial, or forgetfulness could do that. But the future was inevitable. There were passions within him that would find their terrible outlet, dreams that would make the shadow of their evil real.

“Dorian’s own greed, envy, vanity, gluttony, lust, pride, along with some instances of laziness led him to wreak his wrath. His wrath was his ultimate downfall.”

“Are you saying the Devil took his soul?”

“Believe what you will, Miss. But ultimately, yes, he did. A fitting punishment for all that he did.”

I grew tired of the reporter and all her questions. I abruptly stopped talking. It was almost midnight, and I was tired. So very tired. I turned and walked to the guesthouse that held steadfast. No sin had been committed there; it deserved every chance to be loved and nurtured.

“Excuse me, Bentley? Are you leaving the interview incomplete?”

I sighed heavily and turned back towards the bitch of a reporter who was not letting the event go.

“There is nothing more to tell, there is nothing more to see. Please remove your crew from this property or I will be forced to call the authorities.”

Not waiting for a rebuttal, I walked straight to the guesthouse that was to be my living quarters for the rest of my days.

I am an old man now. One who can look back on the life of Dorian Gray and accept my role in his crimes. I cared for him. I nurtured him. And I often covered up his crimes. I didn’t encourage his behavior, but I didn’t discourage it either and I never turned him in to the police. That alone is a sin I cannot escape, nor can I forgive myself. As I lie here on my own death bed, I realize that I may not have sold my soul to the Devil, but I did sell it to Dorian Gray, and would soon be joining him in Hell. Choices have consequences... some that last well beyond our time on Earth. I made my choices, just as Dorian made his. Do not follow in our footsteps.

The Prophecy – Part of The Sanguine Elixir Anthology

The Collection – Part of The Green Key Anthology

Fallen Angel – Part of Beyond the Stones Anthology

Demon – Bastards of Anarchy MC Book One

Snake – Bastards of Anarchy MC Book Two

Double Crossed – Bastards of Anarchy MC Prequel

The Merger – A Vampire/Werewolf Tale

Angelique – Avenging Angels MC Book One

Crimson Mourning – A Games of the Underworld Prequel

Marked With Humanity – A Games of the Underworld Novel

Marked with Suspicion – A Games of the Underworld Novel

Table of Contents

- 1. PROLOGUE
- 2. CHAPTER 1
- 3. CHAPTER 2
- 4. CHAPTER 3
- 5. CHAPTER 4
- 6. CHAPTER 5
- 7. CHAPTER 6
- 8. CHAPTER 7
- 9. CHAPTER 8
- 10. CHAPTER 9
- 11. A SHORT NOTE FROM DORIAN
- 12. CHAPTER 10
- 13. CHAPTER 11
- 14. CHAPTER 12
- 15. CHAPTER 13
- 16. CHAPTER 14
- 17. CHAPTER 15
- 18. CHAPTER 16
- 19. CHAPTER 17
- 20. CHAPTER 18
- 21. CHAPTER 19
- 22. CHAPTER 20
- 23. CHAPTER 21

- 24. A NOTE FROM DR. FRANK N. STEIN (Please give to Christian)

- 25. A NOTE FROM VANESSA AVES (please give to Christian)

- 26. CHAPTER 22
- 27. CHAPTER 23
- 28. CHAPTER 24
- 29. CHAPTER 25
- 30. CHAPTER 26
- 31. CHAPTER 27
- 32. CHAPTER 28
- 33. CHAPTER 29
- 34. EPILOGUE
- 35. OTHER WORKS FROM MICHELLE MILLER