A/N: I never knew how fun it was writing about violent serial killers…err, killers who use violence kind of erotically I guess. It's fuuuun….as much as I feel bad for Fayt for trapping him in such a situation, I'm also breathless from fangirlish glee. It's damn sexy! Albel the crazed psychopath can be a crazed killer anytime in my book. It's just so fun and so easy to write!
Disclaimer: Once again…I do no own. Don't attempt to sue me or I shall sic Dexter on you…and you wouldn't like that…being chopped into pieces while still alive…a terrible death.
A darker future
For a darkest time
Icy sunshine, deepest night
Hidden from the reach of light
-Me
Fayt woke up with an irritated yawn. It was so dark, so cold, so early. He couldn't see a thing. He felt sore, as if he had slept on the floor, although he distinctly felt the soft mattress beneath him.
The person in bed beside him shifted and Fayt caught a whiff of foul air. He wrinkled his nose. What a pity for such a beautiful girl to have such ugly morning breath.
"Sophia," he whined.
"Would you like me to kill her for you?" whispered a voice too masculine to be Sophia's.
Fayt tensed, feeling the bite of the ropes into his wrists, the stickiness of the sheets under him. He stifled a scream.
The lights snapped on and Fayt squeezed his eyes shut against the blinding brightness. He heard a low chuckle as the murdered slid off the side of the bed. "You're so much like me, using the darkness to hide from the light."
"I'm nothing like you," Fayt hissed.
"Oh really?" The killer raised a dark eyebrow. "As much as you deny it, you're actually at home here."
Fayt snorted and rolled his eyes. "Here? With all the dead bodies and organs? Don't make me laugh."
"You just don't like the smell? That can be arranged. You were vomiting all over yourself all through the night, so I finally took them down into the laboratory where they belong. I can carve them into miserable pieces and pickle them in stomach acid." He grinned widely, revealing sharp white teeth.
Fayt shuddered. "Yes, it does smell a lot better now, but the fact that you still have dead things in your house is a little unnerving."
"Good. You need to be afraid. I'd like to keep it that way." He seized one of Fayt's hands and held tightly until his nails drew blood.
Fayt winced. "Let go. That hurts."
The killer smiled dreamily. "Blood is such a beautiful thing. It makes even the most miserable, rotten assholes look somewhat pleasing, lying there in their own blood."
"You're sick," Fayt growled. "I want to go home now. Blood is a terrible thing. You shouldn't kill people just to watch them bleed. You're a madman!"
The killer looked amused. "Such feeble protests. Are you sure the danger doesn't excite you?"
"Of course not!" Fayt shouted. "I want to go home to my family, where it's safe."
The killer regarded Fayt through half-lidded ruby eyes. "Ah yes. You want to go back home to your wife, Sophia."
Fayt rolled his eyes. "She's not my wife, just my girlfriend."
"Tsk, tsk. Sex before marriage. I don't approve. You could get her pregnant."
"I don't have sex with her," Fayt growled.
"But you sleep with her."
"I sleep with her…but I don't sleep with her."
"Good, good."
"What does this have to do with anything anyway?" Fayt demanded.
"You're still a virgin." The killer smirked at Fayt.
"Yes, and I want to keep it that way," Fayt growled.
The murderer playfully nipped at Fayt's neck. "You can't tell me what I can and can't do. Remember, you're the one tied up."
Fayt groaned. "What did I ever do to deserve this?"
The murderer smiled cheerfully. "It doesn't matter. Your name was picked by chance, and you are here to assist me. Before you were created, you were destined for this purpose, created to be my own instrument of desire. It's fascinating how perfect you are, my Fayt." He carved a heart onto Fayt's wrist with his nails.
Fayt stiffened. "How do you know my name?"
The killer shrugged casually. "I know almost everything about you. You are mine and I summoned you here." He pointed to a few pictures hung up on the wall. "Is that not you?"
The first picture was merely Fayt's driver's license, which the killer had probably taken from his pocket while he was asleep. The other pictures were a different story…One showed Fayt completely naked, lying on piece of black gauze, with his arms crossed over his chest as if dead. Another had Fayt propped up against the wall, wearing torn and bloody clothing and thick black eye shadow.
Fayt clapped a hand over his mouth, horrified. "How did you-how did you do that to me?" He demanded. "I couldn't have been asleep for that long."
The killer shrugged. "It's now Wednesday afternoon. I brought home a few new friends and left them down in the basement for some fun later this afternoon. They're so fun to watch as they squirm and scream, with no one to help them."
"Three," Fayt whispered, his mouth dry.
The killer grinned. "Yes, you know your history. Three on Wednesday. They'll all be dead by evening and after I choose what to remove, I'll leave them somewhere for the police to find. Such fun."
"But why, why do you do it?' Fayt asked sadly. "Why do you kill them so heartlessly and then keep body parts to mutilate and decay?"
The murderer shrugged. "I get to keep their miserable pieces for more torture, to laugh at how they're dead and I'm still living. They had their chance, while they thrived and I slowly died, but oh no…they were content with their lives. Well, now they'll wish they weren't so complacent. The police can have their wretched bodies, but I will still have their corpses for as long as their organs survive. And if they were really terrible…well, we can always preserve a liver or a heart for as long as we like and laugh at their pain, languishing between earth and the afterlife, never completely dead until all their parts shrivel and die."
Fayt scowled. "I changed my mind. You're not just sick and twisted, you're an absolute lunatic. I don't know why you haven't been caught yet. There's no way you can pretend to be normal to the rest of the world. Here you are, killing innocent people just for laughs? You're beyond disgusting."
"I don't do it just for fun, love," the killer said cheerfully. "I have my reasons. You would have yours too, if you were in my place. But that's neither here nor there." He affectionately trailed a finger down Fayt's cheek. "Control is a precious thing. You are under my control now and you'll stay that way as long as you prove yourself useful to me. But once you stop…" He flicked out a knife and waved it in front of Fayt's eyes. "Remember, if I can't have your heart of your own free will…if you don't stay loyal to me, I'll take it by force and rip it from your body. You understand?"
Fayt nodded weakly, afraid to use his voice.
"Good. Now, get some sleep, Fayt. Tomorrow, I may have use for you." And without another word, he disappeared down the stairs to the basement.