(WARNING: Chapters, especially this one, will talk of rape and other factors that may be hurtful towards others that have gone through the same thing. Do NOT blame me if you have a mental breakdown because of what you read. I warned you so either head my warning or get a reply from your stupid babbling of what happened to you that says: I DON'T GIVE A RATS ASS.)

Tragedy

It started off slow. The right hand moving the bow against the strings of the violin creating a masterpiece heard before by a live audience, but not in the sense of the violinist playing then. Face set firm, left hand gripped the neck tight as the fast-paced music flowed through the air with piercing arrogance, but left a peaceful hum to the listeners' ears.

The music was for her.

The girl I'd allowed harm to just so I could get my way.

After all, no matter what, I'd always won. It was the only thing that mattered to me.

I won. I win. Doesn't matter at whoevers expense. Nothing mattered except that one goal.

Requiem for a Dream: The most fitting song for this tragedy.

I was a monster.

And I didn't care.

Her hips swayed as the young girl walked up the stairs to attend the mascaraed ball. She wore a devilishly short red dress, her lips matching in the luscious color, and her mask, which only covered her eyes, gleamed an unnatural white against her overly tan skin. This was his type of woman: sexy, had the right curves in the right spots, amazing lips, dark hair, and blue eyes that any man could swim in.

And that man was with her that night, smiling up at her with a mischievous gleam that was not noticed by the stupidly giddy woman. She smiled back, hers holding a flirtatious quality that only she could master in her years of experience. That was why I'd chose her for the task, even though I'd left the fact out that she was going to die that night so I could get my way.

I was childish.

My binoculars narrowed in on his face again as the woman turned around to childishly run up the stairs, showing off her innocence she actually didn't hold. His smile grew as he watched her run, his eyes gleaming more noticeably with his intentions.

He walked up after her, placing both hands in the pockets of his tuxedo, his face obscured by the phantom of the opera mask that didn't fit his character in the least. He didn't have feelings. He couldn't love. That mask was not a good fit but who was I to judge, I was an even greater monster than him.

As they entered the building, I waited. I knew he wouldn't take long, maybe an hour at most. It had been awhile since his last attack. He was anxious to get the task started.

As expected, the two were already heading out. He had his arm around the young lady as she began to stumble her way forward, his arm wrapped around her protectively, like he'd actually cared for her; but we both knew better. He didn't give a damn about her.

The feelings were mutual.

Her feet tripped over one another as she tried to make her way down the stairs, his arm tightening around her with annoyance. He grew impatient, sweeping her off her feet as he hurriedly made his way down the stairs. Her smile never faltered as her eyes gleamed up at him for his chivalry, but we both knew better, his patience was running thin with her drunken and also drugged self.

He made his way to his Mercedes, and when he set her down in the passenger seat her fate was sealed. There was no turning back.

The song hit the first dramatic notes, running fast through the air as everyone's eyes were train on me working and on the masterpiece I called music. Many would had said I enjoyed to play the violin, even when my face was set hard, in my eyes they could see the joy I harbored. They were far from the truth. As I played, I'd think about the lives I ruined.

I ruined just to solve a case.

Again, I didn't care.

I'm a monster.

The music slowed, my hands moving smoothly with the music as the piano followed my lead. This piece of the music I considered the eye of the storm. Calm after the first wave of rain, then comes back with a greater vengeance than before. A devastating and beautiful tragedy.

I follow a few cars back as he drove through the city with ease. Obeying all the traffic laws so he wouldn't draw the attention of the unwanted force. I already knew where he was going to go, he didn't care about cleanliness; all he cared about was his lust of the task at hand.

He drove far away from the city, away from camera's that may have had been following his every move.

He stopped at an old abandoned shack, a place I saw him scope out a couple of days ago. I'd been following him for a little over a month. Every two weeks he would get this urge, and after I realized what his type was like, I took action and interviewed women as I searched for his type of woman.

She was a whore. Someone not a lot of people would miss. She stayed with me for a week where I kept her and helped with her acting. I'd told her it was just another score for her to make a large amount of money, but she had to act like she was innocent, hardly touched by the opposite sex. Once I was satisfied, it wasn't hard to get his attention with my bait. Three days later, he invited her to a ball. Smart on his part, considering it would mask his face if anyone would trace her back to that origin. But usually the police failed when it came to investigating. His victims were always stripped and void of any traces of their whereabouts.

He was suspected with hard evidence that I found and tried to accuse him of in the past, but he had a lot of money. Money those days could get you out of everything.

So I did what I thought was necessary.

He had to be caught in the act.

By the time he made it to the shack, she was already delusional from the drugs, but well aware of what was going to happen to her. He found more pleasure when they saw what he was doing to them. He could see it in their eyes and it only got him off more.

He dragged her into the shack, by then I already had my laptop open and the four different cameras I placed throughout the shack on. Like I expected, he didn't waste any time as he dragged her to the middle of the shack and let her fall with what I suspected was a loud thud. I didn't set up audio.

He leaned over her, spoke to her ear as he grabbed onto her chin. I saw her mouth open slightly, probably to either plead or whimper. I chose the latter due to her drugging.

The song hit the last dramatic drop. My hands moved the bow with a force that most would consider was a fierce passion and the love for music.

Again, they were wrong.

He roughly took off her clothes, his clothes following close behind.

He started the task he so desperately needed. Afterwards, he was going to kill her.

I looked away from the screen as I pulled up my phone to my face. There I typed down the location of the shack as well as the current situation the man was currently in and sent it to the police force that "hired" me.

I closed my laptop and put it into a backpack I soon had strapped on to my back. My bike roared to life as I took off already knowing the outcome of today's victory. He didn't have a high endurance, the cops will be there in eight minutes, and by then the girl should be dead and he would be caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Money wouldn't be able to get him out of this.

Later on that night on the news it told the story I already knew. The girl was indeed dead and Drew Schneider was caught in the act.

Another victory for me.

My alias name flashed on the screen. They knew what I'd done, that I used that girl for my own benefit. I guess you could say I was a wanted, sadistic criminal, and yet I was still hired to do the dirty work no one else wanted to do.

This time, they were right to think that of me.

I was a sadistic criminal and I could care less.

The audience stood and applauded my performance. I bowed and beamed a smile that looked real to their eyes.

To them I was only a gifted violinist student that went by the name of Jason Diederich; male and attended the College To-Oh in my sophomore year of an unknown subject.

But to me I was only a monster than cared for only itself, and I preferred to had kept it that way.

(Author's Note: Just a heads up, I don't care if my character is a Mary-sue/Gary-sue, I'll write this story how I want to write it.)