You'll Never Leave Vegas Alive.

I observed his body closely. The moonlight reflected from his bare pale skin. He was gorgeous. Probably one of the most gorgeous ones I've ever brought home. Maybe he was the most gorgeous one. I can say that his kiss was irresistible, and he was a pretty good fuck. But, this all feels like I've done it before. I ran my fingers through his soft sandy blond hair. It was long and shaggy. But, not too long. It framed his pale blue eyes perfectly. That's one thing I recall from last night. His beautiful blue eyes. I feel like I've stared into them before. There wasn't a single imperfection on this boy. At least none that I could find. He looked so familiar to me, though. As if I've seen him before. I couldn't put my finger on it, but this gorgeous boy looked so familiar that it made me sick to my stomach.

I smirked to myself before kissing his forehead and dismissing myself from his side. I climbed out of the white sheets of my bed. White was my choice of color. It represented innocence and purity. Two things I clearly lacked, if that wasn't obvious. It wasn't? Let me elaborate.

This was the first night I've ever met this boy. Or at least think... I didn't know his name. He told it to me at the beginning of the night. But, I can honestly say I didn't remember. I was beyond intoxicated when I introduced myself to him. Clearly, I wasn't going to remember a string of letters that is called a name. To me, he's just Victim 27. Yes, Victim. I have every intention to kill this ravishing boy when he woke up in a few hours. I could be a bit more sensitive with my words, I guess... I was going to inflict the worst possible pain on him when he opened his eyes. Then, send him on a one-way train to the afterlife.

I let my feet glide across the hardwood floor, leading me to a table in the corner of my bedroom. This place was my safe haven. The walls were a dark burgundy. The bed was all white. As I said, I need to hold on to that innocence. The floors were dark. The wood on all the furniture was dark. I wasn't exactly the brightest spirit in the world, so this room made me feel alive. On my way over to the table, I picked up 27's shirt from the floor and smirked. Once I arrived at the table, which was about 8 steps from where I was, I placed the shirt down on the table. I neatly flattened it across the table, making sure there were no creases or folds in the long sleeved, gray material.

I did this with every guy I brought back to my 7th story Las Vegas apartment. I've seen it on television. They always say that serial killers have their own thing. That was indeed true. I shuttered at what I had just called myself. A serial killer. At least we all know I'm honest with myself. Oh, and a tourist was always the easiest target. A simple cover-up. Clever, eh?

I walked over to my dresser and opened the second drawer. The drawer where my revolver calls home, if you will. I reached into the back left side and pulled out the shiny silver hand-gun. I smirked as it glistened in the small light. It was beautiful. The closest thing to a child that I will ever have. I bought this for myself as a Christmas gift two years ago. I've used it on every victim of mine. I thought I was just going to use it as protection in Vegas. Until, on the one month of his disappearance, it felt right to bring somebody home with me, fuck them and kill them when the morning came.

It became a habit. An impulse. On the 26th of every month, I go out and do my thing. I've tried to stop myself. So many times. But, I just can't. I wasn't a monster two and a half years ago. I was a normal guy. But, something always has to go wrong, right?

I was engaged. We had the whole wedding planned out. A beautiful December wedding at my parents place in the mountains of Northern California. On a cold November night, he disappeared. The police assumed he was murdered. So, I convinced myself that that's what happened. Los Angeles PD has the ability to convince people of anything. After I moved out here, I panicked. I had to seek vengeance. For what, I have no idea. I know this is illogical vengeance. Because, all I'm really doing is taking people from their loved ones. Exactly what was done to me. I mainly do such a thing to coat my own pain.

I looked over to the bed to see 27 stir a bit. I stopped my movement. The room was completely dark other than the moonlight poking through the open balcony door. I waited until he was completely still before tip-toeing over to the table, gun in hand.

I sat down in the cushioned chair. I needed all the comfort I could get in this moment. The sun would be rising soon, meaning 27 wouldn't be asleep much longer. I decided that I was going to wrap the gun in the shirt. Seeing as it was almost time, I had to organize my typical OCD events of the morning.

I picked up the shirt and loaded gun up off the table after folding the gun into the fabric. I quickly scooted from my chair as I, yet again heard 27 move around and mumble a few words. Fuck, he better not wake up already. I'd have to think fast if that happened...

I walked as fast as I could out of the bedroom, and headed for the living room. Once I was in there, I set the shirt down on the top a the bookshelf closest to the hallway and smiled confidentially. It always made me giggle when they'd walk into the kitchen and ask where their shirt was. I did this to all of them. Little did they know, it was concealing the gun that they were going to be murdered with.

I walked over to the kitchen, which was connected to the living room. I peeked out of the window to see that the sun was rising in the distance. "Showtime!?" I whispered to myself in an excited voice.

I decided I was going to brew myself some coffee and wait for him to wake up. Yet another part of my routine: offer them a cup of coffee. Most of the time they accepted either that or orange juice. I had to be slightly courteous to my guest. I sighed to myself. This was always the worst part... The fucking waiting. It was pure agony, sitting here. I never knew what time they'd wake up. Generally, they woke up early due to their intense hangover giving them the inability to sleep. I poured myself a cup of coffee. Black coffee. This was the only morning of the month that I drank it that way. It made me feel a little more rough, if you will. Normally, I'm all for extra cream and a few packets of sugar. Not today.

It took 17 minutes for the sun to fully rise. And about an additional 35 minutes of sitting at the table, sipping off my third cup of coffee. I was insanely bored. I didn't have a TV, and my laptop was in the bedroom. My eyes began to get heavy when I was pulled to a fully awake states to stare at a yawning 27, who was emerging from the bedroom. He sent me a smile. A very warm and happy smile. Although I am a monster, I am a very compassionate person. People don't fool me, though. I never drop my guard. Ever. But, this time it felt different. I smiled back at him and nodded, signaling for him to come take a seat next to me at the table. He walked over and pulled the chair back, slowly taking a seat.

"Good morning, love." I smirked at him. He blushed and ran his fingers through his hair. "You want some coffee?" I reached over and placed my right hand on his after he put his hands back on the table. He nodded at me and smiled.

"That would be nice, thanks." He sent me a soft smile. It gave me butterflies in my stomach. What the fuck, really? I never get this nervous before. I get a little nervous, but this time around, I felt sick. This seriously never happens. Like I said, I'm still a human being. I damn well still have feelings.

After getting up from my chair, I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his. They were soft and naturally glossy. All the more reasons to kiss them for this brief minute. I could of kept my lips attached to his for quite some time. Our tongues danced with each others in a slow formation. Obviously, I was the dominant one. I hesitantly pulled my lips away from his as I smirked at him. Something made me want to keep my lips connected to his.

I walked into the kitchen without saying a word and poured a cup of coffee from the pot into a white mug that matched the one I had been drinking out of. He looked like a creamer kind of guy. So, I grabbed it from the fridge, poured a bit into the mug and smiled in accomplishment as I stirred the coffee and creamer, causing them to fuse together.

"Here ya go!" I beamed at him as I was walking back over to the table. I carefully handed him the mug and kissed his forehead. Kill them... with kindness?

"Thanks." He smiled back at me. His voice was low and precious. He seemed like a shy guy it was adorable. It reminded me of him. I sighed to myself. His voice sounded too familiar... Maybe I have seen him around before last night?

"I'll be right back!" I awkwardly walked out of the dining room and to my bedroom before he could reply to the statement I had just made.

I was nervous. Something made me hesitant this morning. I don't know what it was. But, I didn't want to follow through on this one. I just had a feeling I couldn't shake away. This has never happened. 26 times and you'd think I'd have no regret adding another...

I stumbled around my bedroom, totally clueless. I started rummaging through the small pile of clothes on the floor that 27 and I had taken off each other last night. I've been in boxers and a tank top all morning. I concluded I was going to fully dress myself, walk out there and do it. When he wasn't expecting it. Just do it. From behind. So I didn't have to make contact with his beautiful blue eyes. I wasn't going to do my usual "beg for your fucking life" bullshit...

As I was shuffling through the clothes, I noticed a plastic card fall from the back pocket of what I'm guessing were 27's jeans. I picked up what I figured was his drivers license and flipped it over, quickly scanning the front side. Aspen Kade Farrows. I read the three words about five times, my heart racing more with every time. Was this some kind of sick fucking joke? Because, it wasn't fucking cool! I read the name again, but aloud this time. My voice was silenced, shaky. It almost sounded as if I was going to cry. I silenced myself as I felt eyes on me. I looked up to see 27 standing in the doorway. He raised his eyebrow at me after I said his name once more. For the first time in years, I felt weak. Like I was going to be the victim.

"Is this you?" I held up the ID to him as he raised his eyebrow at me and nodded. "Are you sure you're not playing some twisted fucking joke on me!?" I questioned him in a small shriek, getting up from where I was sitting on the bedroom floor. He looked at me in question.

"Why would I be doing that..?" He said in his still soft voice as he began to slowly back out of the bedroom. I knew he looked familiar. I knew he sounded familiar....

"No! Don't leave! Please!!" I reached around to the night-stand behind me and quickly pulled open the drawer. I practically ripped the thing off the tracks and dumped it's contents onto my bed. He looked at me with his eyebrow raised as he saw all the things that were falling out of the drawer.

Framed pictures, love notes, stuffed animals, and all the typical things that one would hold onto after a break up or the disappearance of a loved one... All from him. My Aspen. His eyes got wide as he stared at me with disbelief.

"Joshuah?" his voice cracked as my name left his lips. Nobody has called me that in years. I nodded at him as I felt my heart skip a beat. The silence was awkward. There was nothing to say. Well, that's a lie. There were a million things to say. Where had he been? I thought he was dead... Why hadn't he called me? Wait, I left LA the minute I found out he was gone and headed for Vegas. Didn't tell a soul where I was going, I just up and left.

I slowly started to step toward him as he did the same. We only took about half a step every 15 seconds. It took us a total of about two minutes to be standing directly face-to-face with each other. I had no idea why, but I was scared. Horrified that he'd already known all my secrets. I placed my hand on his shoulder to make sure I wasn't imagining him. I placed my hand on his cheek and smiled a bit.

"Josh, you look so different." He whispered to me as he pushed my hair behind my ears, revealing my bright green eyes. I knew they had bags around them. I hardly sleep anymore. I always have something or somebody on my conscience at all times.

"I know..." I mumbled to him, observing his face. he looked different, as well. He no longer had dark hair. He's lost weight. He still looked insanely gorgeous, though. He had a glow to him. "I'm really sick, Aspen." I said quietly, grasping the fact that I had said his name to him. I knew he wasn't going to know what I meant about being sick. But, that was something I'd tell him, eventually. He looked at me with concerned eyes.

"How so, love?" I smirked at him and quickly pressed my lips against his lips. I missed hearing him call me such names. It sent electricity through my body. I pulled away from the small kiss and sent him an assuring smile.

"It's nothing, dear. I want to talk about you!" I had an excited tone in my voice. I literally felt so alive in this moment. Possibly the most alive I have ever felt in my entire life. He smirked at me and wrapped his arms around my neck. I loosely placed my hands around his waist. I was still taller than him. I smiled at that face. "Where the hell were you?" I pulled him close to me and kissed his forehead. This was truly unreal...

"I got kidnapped, held hostage for five months... Then..." He hesitated his words. "I killed the guy who had been holding me captive and fled for Denver." He said it quickly, almost as if he were ashamed of his actions.

"Why Colorado?" I mumbled to him. Wait, he killed the guy? He's a murderer, too?

"It was the farthest I could get a plane ticket to with the little bit of money i was able to get together before leaving the house I was being held at..." He sounded as if he was telling this story for the first time, ever.

"So, what brought you to Vegas? Why here? Why tonight?"

"I didn't think you'd be asking me about why I was here..." He smiled a bit. He thought I was going to make a huge deal about the fact that he killed somebody. That's what theold Joshuah would have done. Not this time. I was more concerned about his whereabouts than a small killing. "Bachelor party for a friend..." He murmured, again. He could tell that wasn't the answer I was expecting. When we were together, neither of us had any friends, really. I kept it that way. Apparently, he didn't. Not that that was a bad thing.

I shrugged, not really caring about his current status in life. All I cared about was that I had him back in my arms. There was no chance in hell I was letting him go. Whether he likes it or not. Which I'm hoping he does. We're back on the "forever" path, as of right now. And I'm gonna make every possible conscious effort to not fuck everything up.

I sent him a soft smile as he asked quietly; "What have you been doing with yourself these last few years, Joshuah?" I smirked at him. There were a million things I could reply to this question. Fuck my conscious effort...

"I'm a murderer..."