Just a Little Sadistic

Two years later. I walk out to my back porch to Ebony, the warm summer air hitting me. She leans against the wooden railing with her head in her hands, her dark hair pulled into a thick, but loose ponytail. The sun is starting to set in the distance, increasing my happy mood.

Erik is also lounging in a wicker chair, drinking a large glass of cold beer, with Carlie in his lap. They had gotten married recently and were perfectly happy together.

I focus back on Ebony. Her beautiful smile and big eyes. Her light, silver eyes are in so much contrast to my own dark ones.

The past two years are better than I ever could have hoped for. We are now living together in my house. Ebony moved in with me about half a year after we finally got back together. After I finally got her back. Having sex with her that night just proved more to me that she was mine and she chose me.

Walking up to her, I wrap my arms around her waist from behind. She turns her head, smiles at me warmly. I love her smile so much. Warm and fuzzy feelings take over my body as I hold her, giving her small kisses along her neck. She’s really the only person I care about. There was no one before her.

I move my hands to her stomach, which has grown large from pregnancy. Every time I think of it, I get excited flips in my stomach. Ebony is carrying my child and I am happy, to say the least. In a way I’m proud. Proud that my girl is holding my very own child. My thumbs move slowly across her stomach soothingly. I can practically feel her melt in my arms under my touch. Our baby is due in about one month.

The front door opens loudly, alarming my senses. I kiss Ebony’s cheek quickly as I walk through the house to the front. I see Danny shutting the door behind him and he walks towards me.

“Hey, where is everyone?” he asks, walking to the fridge and pulling out a beer.

“In the back. Come on,” I say as I lead him through the house.

“So, any new kills lately?” he jokes. Danny always blatantly makes jokes about how I handle my anger. I roll my eyes.

Even still, I can’t control myself. My aggression has gone down since Ebony, therefore, less murders. She knows what I do. She highly disapproves, but I know she won’t leave me, even because of that. I try to control myself from leaving in the middle of the night and find a victim while she sleeps, but I still do it more than I probably should. I can’t help the sick, satisfied feeling when I accomplish a murder. Once their heart slows, and their breathing has stopped, I can’t help but get excited. A smile always tugs at the corner of my lips to see their blood on my hands. My heart races.

Of course I want to keep doing it. But I don’t as often for Ebony. But I always want more of the satisfied feeling of ending a life. Although sometimes if my aggression or sadism gets ahead of me, I use Ebony. It’s just as thrilling to have aggressive sex with her as it doesn’t happen often. She’s just so fragile and in a way, innocent. I know she’s not into that kind of thing. But she sometimes doesn’t mind or even encourages it.

Maybe it’s because she doesn’t want me to kill an innocent being. Maybe. Maybe not.

Either way, my sadism has to come out somehow. I’m afraid if I bottle it up too long, I’ll go on a killing rampage.

As for my getting out of prison, I haven't told anyone. Not even Ebony or Erik. I always left it as, "I have my ways." I don't think I'll ever mention it. It will forever remain a mystery to everyone besides myself.

“Good one.”

“I know, right, dude?”

We enter the porch where everyone is, all of them drinking a beer. Except for Ebony. She is drinking ice water.

“Hey babe,” I kiss her cheek again and stand next to her, moving my fingertips lightly against her back. My eyes once again drift to her stomach.

I can’t help but hope it’s not like me. We still don’t know the sex, but either way, I do not want it to end up just like the father. I don’t want to see my child growing up, liking the horrible, sick thoughts that run through their head. Staying up all night, thinking of ways to kill another man. Thinking of ways to get that strong satisfaction. Thinking of ways to lure beautiful creatures to them only to spill their blood.

Usually whenever I killed a woman, thoroughly planning every move to torture her in the worst ways, I got a strong erection. I don’t want my kid to end up like that. I pray that they take after their mother.

There’s nothing I want more, than to have my child take after their beautiful, sweet mother, Ebony.

The End... ?