Prompt: A young man confesses to a killing that hasn't happened. The murder he describes takes place when he's in custody.
Warning: This imagine is messed up. Murder, mental illness, and adult themes are described. If it's not your thing, please don't read it!
.
.
Blood has a distinct smell you can never forget. The sweet, metallic smell overwhelms your senses until it is all you can think about. The scene before me was horrific, even worse than what you see in films. In films, you can only see, hear, and feel the fear. In films, you can't smell it nor can you feel how warm and sticky it is.
My hands were trembling from fear of what I'd just done but there was something else—satisfaction. No normal person would feel satisfaction at having killed another human being but I did. I'm not normal. I'm sick in the head just like my mum and past lovers told me.
My mum knew something was wrong with me the minute I was born. I didn't cry; I was incapable of feeling, void of emotions. This would carry on into adulthood. My mum thought she could change me, could mold me into a loving person but she was wrong. I've learnt to lie, manipulate, and take advantage of others for my own benefit. Humans are so easy.
There was something satisfying about inflicting pain on others. The fear in their eyes, the ragged breathing, the increased heart rate, and the pleas. They're under your control and the power is addicting.
Growing up, we had a pet cat that I despised. The feeling was mutual. There is a saying that animals can tell if you're a good person or not. They listen to their intuition and it's often right. The bloody cat hated my guts. He'd watch me from afar with his green eyes and if I got too close, he'd hiss and scratch me. One day, I was drunk and didn't realize I had gotten too close. He scratched me and in my anger, I pinned him down so he couldn't move. I could've killed him right then and there but I decided not to. It was much more satisfying seeing the fear in his eyes and after that, he left me alone. As soon as he saw me, he'd run and hide. My mum was heartbroken when he passed away from old age. I don't miss him one bit.
As I got older, despite my cold demeanor, I still had plenty of luck with women. They couldn't resist my good looks and charm despite my inability to feel any emotional connection with them. I only used them for my own sexual gratification. Most women I was with were inexperienced and shy in the bedroom. I'd be the one leading them, wanting something more, but they were afraid to go further. I went through several women that couldn't satisfy my needs until I met Julia. For the first time in my life, she was the one leading me and I enjoyed it. She was the one who introduced me to BDSM which awakened the animal in me and plain old sex just wasn't good enough for me anymore.
We met several times a week. Our relationship was strictly platonic and we weren't supposed to fall in love with each other until one day, I noticed something changed in her. She opened up to me about her life, aspirations, and feelings, and there was more meaning behind her actions. The way she'd hold me close and stroke my hair after sex and the way she'd ask that I stay a little longer. She was getting attached and I couldn't see her the same way anymore. She used to be rough and unrelenting but she was getting soft. One day, when she had too much to drink, she confessed that she was falling in love with me. I've never had someone tell me they loved me and meant it; it was a strange feeling and I didn't know how to react.
I told her she couldn't fall in love with me because I was a terrible person but she didn't listen. She was devastated her feelings weren't reciprocated but remembered our agreement on it being platonic. She was the one that ended things, and I often wonder what would've happened if she stayed in my life, but she's better off without me.
