I close my eyes tightly and let out a shaky breath, dropping my head back on my neck. I open my cerulean eyes and stare up at the ceiling fan as it spins slowly, making a soft whooshing noise in the nearly quiet bedroom. I can hear the steady stream of water pounding the bottom of the porcelain tub coming from the adjacent bathroom and I rub my forehead with my sweaty hands. It all sounds so fucking loud. Fuck, I just wish the shit would stop. I reach over to the nightstand and grab the half empty bottle of Advil and shake a few of the small, brown pills into my palm. I slam them into my mouth and swallow. It's been a rough few months.

I feel like a drug addict going through withdraws. Or like an alcoholic that is constantly is surrounded by people who keep offering free drinks. I knew this was going to be hard but nothing like this. I constantly feel sick to my stomach; my palms are sweaty all the time. I've had the same blistering migraine for days. I can't eat, I can barely sleep, I get the chills... it wants to take over. I want to black out and just let it have me but with a quick thought of my beloved, I put on my bullet proof vest, pick myself up off the ground and start to fight again.

Everything has been setting me off these past few days; a whiff of perfume in the air, a sweet smile, a lick of the lips, the tossing of hair over a shoulder. It's delicious. It drives me insane. The well put together ones are my absolute favorite; the ones who spends hours getting ready to go out to the grocery store. The ones who make sure their eye shadow match their clutch which matches their shoes. God. And as of late, they are everywhere. Every shape, from athletic to voluptuous, every color, from the creamy Caucasians to the milky chocolates... I'm like a kid in a candy store. But now, I have a mouth full of cavities.

I'm so hard up I lost myself on the subway and actually followed one home. I was transfixed. I had tunnel vision, all I could see was that beautifully plump ass switching left and right, left and right as I paced behind. I could practically feel her hair running through my fingers; my lips all over that silky, olive skin; my dick, sinking in and out of her pretty, tight, femininity. I followed her for damn near an hour before the ringing of my phone broke my new found obsession. I literally had to tear myself from her and once I did, I felt empty, confused, and lost. I spent the rest of my evening puking my brains out. I was so close that I could taste it and God, did I want it. I wanted it bad.

I groan deeply as the thoughts of the lucky, mystery girl from the subway floats away and I slam my head back on the headboard. I can feel my stomach beginning to turn again, my brow starting to become sweaty from the thoughts. I gotta keep this sandwich down. I close my eyes and try to force sleep to keep myself from leaping from bed and wreaking havoc on the female population of this city. I start to calm myself down when I feel extra weight crawling across our California king bed. She sinks on top of me and my hands instantly flock to her naked body, rubbing smooth circles on her thighs. She plants a few kisses along the side of my face and neck and hugs me tightly to her body.

"Feeling any better?" She coos in my ear softly while playing with a few hairs on the nape of my neck.

I just shake my head no and hang on to her with all my might, "Not really baby."

She sighs and pulls back from me, causing me to open my eyes. She stares intently at me, her gorgeous light brown eyes bouncing slightly between mine, searching for answers. I want to be good for her. I want to make her happy and take care of her because she deserves that. I can't take care of her if I'm behind bars. I won't end up like that. I can't.

"Why are you doing this?' She asks, biting the inside of her lip.

I place my thumb on her chin and tug slightly, freeing her tortured bottom lip from the clutches of her teeth, "Stop biting that. And for you, that's why."

"Justin-"

"No," I state, cutting her off, "I'm not going back there. I'm not doing it anymore."

She places both of her small hands on the sides of my face, "You've been sick for weeks. I don't like seeing you like this. You need it, just do it." She whispers, tears welling up in her eyes.

She's right. I need it. I've needed it since I was seventeen years old. I was always a little… off, if you know what I mean. I hid it well, I was always popular, had tons of friends and even more acquaintances. I was just the polite, sweet, southern boy that every mother wished they had. But deep down, I had needs. Dark, evil needs that needed to be realized. And I did just that, the summer I turned seventeen. My body instantly relaxes as the memories flood back to me, a slight smile playing on my lips. It was mesmerizing the first time. It was the perfect high. I felt so free and vindicated. It was beautiful. It was the single most satisfying, elating experiences of my life and I have never looked back.

I look back into the sweet face of my pretty girl and play with the ends of her long, dark hair which stops inches above her bare nipples. My baby has changed my entire outlook on life. She's got me trying to stow the hideous wolf within me and shrug back into my sheep costume. I obsessed over her, much like the mystery girl last night, from the first moment I saw her. I wanted her bad, just like last night. I saw my baby at a club the first time and I couldn't tear myself away if I tried. Very little of that toned body was covered, her plump breasts nearly exploding out her top and her butt cheeks were practically daring the material of her shorts to keep them in. Tattoos ran up her legs and sides, each one telling a story about her. She was wearing a hoop nose ring and piercing blue contacts in her eyes, her hair was tinted red and she was going to be mine.

I chatted her up for hours, becoming engrossed in her girly giggle. Something was happening and I just couldn't put my finger on it. It was more that what it usually was for me. I mean, I wanted to fuck her, yeah, but I didn't want to hurt her. That was... strange for me. She gave me her number and, unknown by her, I followed her for weeks in between our dates. She got to me. And I thought that I was never going to be got. That human connection that I thought I was incapable of achieving was growing between her and I, and quite quickly. I've trusted only one other person my entire life and here I was, falling for another one. When we slept together the first time, it was glorious. Almost as amazing as my seventeenth summer and instead of slitting her throat and watching her bleed out over her white sheets, I held her. I actually wanted to sleep with her again. And here we are, seven years later.

She lowers her forehead to mine and closes her eyes for a second as my hands begin to roam her naked body, "I love you." She states a few seconds later, "That's why I want you to go out and do it."

I sigh inwardly. Usually, by now, I'd be out the door as soon as the words left her delicate lips. But these last few months have been different. The last few years have been different if I'm being truly honest. She knows I need it. It's like a disease or a cancer that I can't fight off. She knows that for me to stay functional, I need to kill. I need to display my dominance over these pretty little girls and watch as the blood and life drains slowly out of them. At first, she was intrigued by it. I kept it from her for almost a year after we first met. I was pretty reckless back then too. I didn't care where I was or how many people were around. When it took over, it just took over and I didn't care. She was out with some friends one night when she saw me across the street at some bar. She excused herself from her party and watched me for hours, fuming with hurt and anger as I flirted with some long haired Latina. She followed our every move as we left the bar, my date now pretty tipsy and quickly losing touch with reality thanks to the roofie I slipped her.

I pulled her into a dark alley and wasted no time. I hoisted her up and fucked her as hard as I could against the brick wall, her moans getting lost within the noise of New York City. My baby stood and watched, tears streaming down her face but unable to walk away. After a few minutes, the nameless Latina's body tightened around me and I knew it was time. I fumbled around in my pocket for my weapon of choice as she slurred some words into my ear and began giggling randomly as she reached her climax. Poor girl never even knew it was coming. I finished her off with a few more slams, her body vibrating between the hard bricks and my body as her orgasm poured through her. I waited until she calmed slightly before I plunged my knife deep into her stomach, grunting deeply as I felt her warm blood begin to ooze.

My baby's hand flew to her mouth as she gasped. My head whipped around at the sound and I stopped dead, my heart, or whatever it is that I have, sunk straight to my feet. I couldn't move as we stared at each other. It must have looked crazy, me standing there with some chick mounted on my dick, bleeding like a stuck pig as my knife was still buried deep inside of her. But my baby didn't turn and run. She didn't call the police, she didn't even scream.

"Finish it." She called to me, staring intently at me.

My chest rose and fell harshly as I turned robotically to the dying girl in front of me. She was gasping and gurgling as she held on to life, her eyes glazing over as it slipped away from her. A small stream of blood began to seep from her lips as she twitched slightly. I turned back to my baby, almost as if for permission and she said it again, "Finish it."

And without a second thought, I stabbed the nameless girl again and began slamming my body into hers once more. The euphoria built inside of me as her life drained completely from her, her inner fire snuffing out as the light dimmed in her eyes. And when I knew she was gone, I came. I dropped her now lifeless body to the ground, slipping her light pink panties from her still warm body and shoved them in my pocket before walking briskly out of the alley, grabbing Celia by the wrist and dragging her back to my apartment. Once there, I barely had time to shut the door before Celia crashed her lips to mine.

Like I said, she used to be intrigued but now, she's just hurt. Not so much by the obvious, she actually deals quite well with the fact that her husband is a serial killer. It's the cheating part. The fact that I fuck at least twelve different girls a year kills her. I do everything I should, I wear condoms, I get checked every six months for STD's and every year for aids but she doesn't like sharing me.

"What are you thinking about?" She giggles softly, cocking her beautiful head to the side as she speaks.

I chuckle with her, "You. I'm not going to do that to you Celia, not anymore."

She sighs again, "Babe..." She trails off, her eyes leaving mine and fixing themselves on the lamp.

I again, pull her face back to mine, "What?"

"I really appreciate the changes you've made for me. You've cut back tremendously. But I want you to be happy. I've been thinking, maybe I could... help." My eyes widen at her as she continues to speak, "Maybe we could find someone together. Maybe we could do like, a threesome or something."

"Baby, no."

"Why not?" She asks, her face falling at my answer.

I scoff a little, "I don't want you involved in any of this."

"It'll be easier this way. I won't feel... You'll be able to get what you need and I won't feel like you're cheating on me. It's the only way."

I grab her up and hug her to me as the desperation in her voice begins to choke her up. I rub her smooth back slowly and lay kisses on her neck and shoulder, "You think that it's going to be easier on you watching me fuck someone else, than just knowing? It's not baby. It won't be."

"I just feel like I'm losing you," She cries, holding on to me, "You're trying and I know that but it's like you're not even here with me. You're mind is constantly somewhere else."

"I know baby, I know." I coo, running my free hand through her long hair.

"You have given up so much for me Justin. I just want to give you this, please babe. Let me do this for you."

I can't lie. This offer is tempting. To watch my Celia and another woman has always been a fantasy of mine... and I have been on my best behavior for a last few months. When I was younger, I needed a kill almost every week. As I grew older and refined my behaviors and needs, I could stretch them out to about one or two a month and still feel just as fulfilled as before. But, when it all started to take its toll on Celia, I began stretching them out longer and longer. One every two or three months or so. I've been trying to convince myself that I'm fine; that operating this way will make the experience all the more exciting but it's not. I'm on a four month stretch currently and I'm honestly about to crawl right out of my skin.

You know, I never in a million years thought that I'd care this much about another human being. She's given me so much to look forward to. She's given me a purpose. I just wish that she could be enough for me but... I can't shake this darkness. But I won't let it control me anymore because of her. Because of my Celia.

***

I lean back but rest my hands on his broad shoulders, letting my fingers skim his delicate, soft skin. I know he wants so badly to say yes. He's literally balling his fists in anticipation right now. He can't hold my gaze, his brow is slightly sweaty and his skin clammy. He needs a kill. Then he'll be able to relax and I'll have my husband back for another month or so. God, listen to me; talking as if this is something that every young couple goes through. I'm literally offering my husband a threesome so he can take the life of some innocent woman so he can feel normal again. But this is us. This is Justin and Celia.

How am I so okay with this, you ask? I love him. Period. Besides this dark passenger that rides with him, he is completely perfect. Charming, sweet, caring, sexy. And he tries so hard to be good for me. So hard. To the point to where it literally makes him sick. But he doesn't complain, he doesn't sneak around behind my back, he just deals with the pain. I want him to be happy. I want to be able to make him as happy and as fulfilled as he has made me. Even though, it means having to turn my head. I was so lost when we first met. I couldn't tell which end was up in my so called life. I was drinking every night, going home with every man and woman that showed the tiniest bit of interest in me. And then, there he was. My tall, curly headed knight in shining, bloody armor.

It's not all him though. I have my own darkness that I try to keep concealed, even from him. He sees it though, he has to. I think that's why he's trying as hard as he is to try and conform to a semi-normal existence. He's always saying that I'm nothing but good. In this dark, seedy, dangerous world, I'm the light. That's why he doesn't want me involved anymore than I have to be. He doesn't want to believe that he's tainted that light. When I saw him for the first time, killing that girl, I was shocked but... excited. When he dragged me back to his apartment, we fucked for days. I was so turned on by it. I would play it over and over again in my mind and my body would ache for him. It still does.

But after a few weeks of watching him destroy the lives of these pretty, young objects, my own feelings began to scare me. Why am I so okay with this? Why am I pleasuring myself to the images of him snuffing out the life of someone else? Am I as sick as he is? Or is it just the depths of my love for him that makes it okay? Maybe it's because he could finally be free. I'm the only person in this whole wide world that knows who he truly is. Well, myself and JC, that is. But he's itching, and he needs to scratch it. And I wanna play too. I meant what I said earlier though, I hate seeing him like this. I hate feeling so disconnected from him. But I also hate knowing he's out there, fucking someone else while I'm stuck here, thinking. There's also another part of me that's slightly jealous of these women he stalks. He is a sucker for pretty girls. What if one of them steals him away from me? What if he finds another connection like he did with me all those years ago? I'd die. I can't breathe without him. I don't want to.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He whispers after a few minutes.

"Just say yes. Please."

He sighs deeply again, "Maybe."

I scoff a little, "Maybe?"

"Maybe. I'm thinking about us here, about what's truly important."

Not what I was expecting to hear, "Don't shut me out Jay."

He looks me square in the eye, grabbing either side of my face and slowly stroking my cheeks, "I won't baby. I promise. Now get some sleep, huh? We can talk about this later."

I want to raise another point but the glint his eye tells me that he's aggravated. I know that Justin would never hurt me but I try not to push his buttons very often. So, I shut my mouth and shrug my naked body under the covers, snuggling up to him as he wraps me up and in his strong arms. I rest my head against his chest and pat my fingers against his skin, mirroring his heartbeat as he lulls into a restless, on and off sleep. I wish he would quit being so damn stubborn. I really do hate seeing him suffer like this. I kiss his cheek after what seems like hours of watching and waiting for his body to finally give into sleep. I let out a sigh and close my own eyes, hoping that tomorrow my husband will come to his senses and let the wolf out of its cage.

Poor pretty girls. They won't even know what’s coming.

***

His phone rings three times before it clicks and his voice fills my ears, "Justin, what's up man?"

"Not much JC, how are you man?"

JC, the only other person, besides Celia, that knows about my darkness. I can't even remember how we met or when. I just know that as soon as we started talking, I knew he was going to be my brother for life. It's been a few nights since Celia asked if she could participate in my extracurricular activity and I've been deadlocked in my head as to if I want her to be involved or not. So, I'll leave it up to JC.

"What's wrong Justin? Everything okay? Celia okay?"

I sigh and pick at my jeans before glancing out over the city through the window, "Celia's fine. I'm just... I'm going stir crazy man."

"I bet. How long has it been, three, four months now?"

"Four months, five days, six hours. But hey, who's counting, right?"

JC chuckles on the other end of the phone, "You're doing good buddy, remember that."

I let out a steady breath and sink a little further into my chair. JC and Celia are the only two people that know exactly what to say to me to keep me sane. I'm sure JC is completely afraid of me and what I'm capable of but he's never made it obvious. Even that night, almost ten years ago, when I confessed my secret to him, he never wavered. Sure, he was shocked. I'm sure he wanted to run for the hills but he didn't. He just sat there for a minute, thinking, I guess. Maybe he sensed that something was off about me all along, maybe he could see it. But, after a few minutes, he turned to me and told me that my secret was safe with him. And then he thanked me for allowing him to truly get to know me. I'll never forget that.

"Celia wants to help me find a girl. She wants to have a threesome and watch again."

He's silent for a few seconds, processing the information, "What did you say?"

"I said no. I don't want her getting involved in my shit anymore than she has to be, you know that. She's too good for that."

"But she wants you to be happy."

"I know that."

"Then why not just take the offer?"

I sigh harshly out of irritation, "I call you for help JC. Not for encouragement."

He chuckles again, but continues on, "Why are you so afraid to let her in Justin? What's going on?"

"Nothing is going on. I just don't want to be the reason that she changes. I don't want that goodness about her to diminish. That's what I love about her."

"Ok, but everyone has a darkness Justin, some are just darker shades is all."

I rub my forehead with my fingers and remove the phone from my ear as he talks. Why did I call him? He's not fucking helping, "I don't want her enjoying this."

"Justin, you cannot blame yourself for what Celia wants. So she has a bit of a strange fantasy, what's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong with that?" I ask incredulously, "JC, I murder women. I'm coming to you, telling you that I think my wife gets off on watching me kill and you're asking me what's wrong with that? Even I can see that trouble in that statement and I'm as fucked up as they come."

He's silent again. Ha, got you fucker, "Maybe it's not the kill or the blood that gets her like it does you. Maybe it's the thought or the sight of you being completely at one with yourself. Maybe it's the sight of you, if only for a few minutes or hours or days or weeks, being completely happy."

Now it's my turn to get quiet. I stare blankly back out at the gloomy city. It's ugly out today. It's cold and gray and foggy. I love ugly though, it matches my current state of mind. Maybe it's the sight of you, if only for a few minutes or hours or days or weeks, being completely happy. I never thought about it like that. The moment that I had an inkling that she was getting some sort of pleasure other than being curious, I shut it down immediately. I won't drag her down with me, I just won't. I want my innocent, lovely Celia. I'm bad enough for the both of us.

"Still." I finally let out after pondering his last words.

"Still, what?"

"I don't like it. I won't have it."

"Then say no, rent some bondage and torture porn like you always do and try to survive."

I scoff, rubbing my eyes and forehead again, "I can't. I fucking can't."

"Then go get your kill. You can either come to terms with who you are and feed your needs or you can try and stifle them but what you can't do, is continue to try and teeter on the edge like this. It'll kill you or get you locked up for good. None of us want to see that."

"I don't want her to feel inadequate." I relent.

"She already does, you can't change that. So let her participate. Let her feel like she's helping you get through this because deep down, she is. Then, maybe she won't feel inadequate anymore."

"You're an asshole."

"I'm right and you know it. Let her help you. You'll be helping her as well without even realizing it."

I roll my eyes and purse my lips, ready to end this fucking conversation, "I gotta go. You're not fucking helping, psychology major."

"You just don't like being disagreed with," He chuckles again, "You should come visit me in LA sometime soon. A change in scenery might be good for your cranky ass. We've got pretty girls down here too you know."

I crack a small smile for the first time in what seems like a year. I do love California. Celia's never been. Maybe we can make a vacation out of it, "Maybe. I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

"Alright man. Just remember I love you, nothing you can do will change that. You're my brother, forever."

"You're just saying that. You're just using my life for research to be able to write your book."

He laughs again, sighing at the end, "Well, at least I don't charge you two hundred an hour like I do these other saps. I mean it though Justin. If you ever need me, I'm here bud."

"I know, thank you."

I end the call and slide my phone across the table towards the window. I sigh deeply again, my mind still not anymore relaxed then it was before I called JC. He makes some good points, he really does. Maybe it's not the blood and the actual death that she likes, maybe it is just knowing that I'm finally at peace. But I don't want to take that chance. I don't want to be wrong, I can't. I don't want to destroy this. She is the one, and I mean the one and only thing about me that is truly pleasant.

Shit.

I snap my head as I hear her keys jingle in the door behind me. I stand just as she stumbles through the door, her arms full of grocery bags. She smiles warmly at me and I return it genuinely, feeling a little calmer now that she's home. I step up to the threshold of the kitchen and lean against one of the counters and watch as she moves about, talking aimlessly about her outing as if I'm listening. She's in a cute little flower print dress that stops just above the knee, showing off those long, beautiful, tatted up legs. Her long hair falls over her shoulders and down towards the center of her back, curling slightly at the ends. My baby.

"Are you hungry?" She asks, breaking me from my thoughts.

"Not for food." I answer quickly before fully thinking it through. Her happy demeanor snaps in an instant and a scowl is now playing on her delicate lips. I step to her and place my arms around her, pressing my chest into her back, "Don't be mad." I coo, kissing her temple.

"Don't." She states, trying to break free of my grasp.

I don't relent, I just told her tighter until she stops struggling, "Don't be mad." I say again, with a little more conviction this time.

She rests her hands and weight against the counter in front of her, dropping her head slightly as she breaths steadily, "Please just go, okay? Please? I'll let you do your thing, I won't interfere. Just..." She trails off, leaving her words just hanging between us.

"I spoke to JC." I say, spinning her around to face me.

"Oh yeah?" She asks, lifting her eyes to meet mine, "What did the good doctor have to say?"

"He says I should let you come with me. He thinks that it's good for both of us."

She squints her eyes slightly in confusion, "Good for both of us?"

I nod, "You'd be helping me with my affliction and in turn, I'd be helping you... with yours."

She bites her lip slightly, her eyes bouncing between mine as the wheels in her head start to turn. She's never admitted to me that she likes it or enjoys it or whatever it is. We've never fully spoken about it, I've just sort of hinted around why I don't want her going with me. I'm not going to push it now either, I probably never will. I just want her to know that I see it and I'm trying to haul it in for her own good. Before it takes over and wants more and more control. I sort of wish I had had someone to help me.

She glances around me, her eyes glazing over with tears but I bring her attention back to me, "It's okay baby." I urge gently, not wanting her to be afraid to tell me, "A little darkness is okay."

She nods slowly, tucking some of her loose hair behind her ear, "Are you going to go?"

"Yep and you're going too."

She stares at me, her pretty mouth falling open slightly. When I smile down at her, she stands to her tiptoes, throwing her arms around my neck and gazing lovingly at me, "Really?" She whispers, kissing the corner of my mouth.

"Really. But you have to promise me something."

"Anything daddy."

"You'll talk to me about this afterwards, okay? I want to know what you're thinking.”

She nods again, pulling me into her tightly. I lift her slightly off of her feet and bury my face into her neck, taking deep breaths as her sweet scent fills my body.

Looks like we're going hunting.