Dirty desires

Part 22

What do I do? I was so tangled in this web of confusion and emotion. What was going on inside his head? "Please, this is your only chance to do something good..." I softly said, with a hint of desperateness in my voice. His face softened as he stared into space. "I know that's what you want" I added, my eyes stinging as I felt I was about to cry. He caught my eyes, his face was blurred but I felt the tension he emitted.

"I killed her" he whispered, almost innocently. I frowned, in confusion of what he meant. "I killed her with my bare hands, like an animal... i watched her choke and squirm" he spat out, clenching his teeth as if it pained him to say it. As I squinted my eyes in confusion, squealing the tears out front my eyes, it struck me in the gut like a bullet.

Celia Brown

I clasped my hand to my mouth, gasping in disbelief. This man in front me, a murderer, kidnapper... killed Celia Brown. I shook and shivered as the worlds slowly sunk into my mind. Isaac stayed there, lifeless, watching me reaction carefully and intently. "Do you hate me now?" He leaned in, eyes wide with a dark kind of lust, a lust for hatred. I felt sick, my stomach turned and twisted like a dying eel.

My throat tightened and I gagged as the thought of him strangling Celia's poor blue face in the dead of night poisoned my mind. How helpless she must have felt, as he held her in his hands, drawing the life right out of her lungs. I fell, and slowly shuffled away from the bars. He was right, I did hate him. I hated the dead and hungry look in his eyes, a hunger for death, I saw it in his smile, and in his voice. How could I ever imagine he would help me.

That's what he was holding back, the thing he held from me. All this time he knew it would be the thing to make me snap. But why? Why did he hold it back for so long, until now. It's like there was some sort of internal battle within him, of good and bad. Except this time, evil won. And he enjoyed it. He enjoyed seeing the horror on my face, and fear in my voice. It was his sick pleasure. He wasn't interested in sleeping with me, he wanted to see more than that. He's a Psychopath.

He smiled slightly. "I knew that would work" he chuckled. I just stared, quivering with terror and disgust. I knew he wanted more though, he wanted me to yell and scream and curse. Because the hate he had for himself wasn't enough. It's like a drug, he needed more. He needed it from someone like me, someone close. But I wasn't going to give him the pleasure of it. He slammed his hand against the bar, gritting his teeth as if he knew what I was doing.

"How could you?" I accused bitterly but quietly. I wanted to know how someone could do something like that. And suddenly that loud anger within him cowered away, like a scared puppy, the darkness behind his eyes fled and he looked almost entirely different. Like someone had flicked a switch and he saw the world from a different lens. He quickly looked embarrassed and confused. Like he saw himself through my eyes.

I watched the tears form in his eyes and his chin quiver. He slowly shrunk to my level and held in the weeps as a tear quietly slid down his cheek.