The nurses helped my cause, of course, as soon as one got wet for me and let me fuck her senseless. The needy whores cannot resist a man who looks the way I do and who is, in their opinion, broken from a childhood of abuse. Melissa, a nurse who worked the night shift from the time of my incarceration, became addicted and completely dependent on my cock after I let her have at it one night. She had made doe eyes at me as soon I entered here and her affection only grew over the years. The more I played the victim of circumstance instead of the stone cold killer I am, the more she became putty in my bloodstained palms. It helped that her husband was fucking his receptionist and she felt old and ugly. A few sweet words and a good ass tapping and she became like a mewing kitten. All she wanted was to be petted. She was in charge of handing out the meds, so mine wouldn’t be checked when I pretended to swallow them. She was too busy swallowing my come to know what I was and wasn’t taking.
The fucking drugs fogged my brain for years but I soon became coherent again and my old urges and thoughts returned to me full force, like lucid dreams. I could almost touch them instead of them being in the back of my brain, banging at a steel door I couldn’t open. Seeing life through a cloudy haze, unable to grip onto anything solid or real was frustrating. That’s another form of “curing” in these places; they medicate you so high you can’t commit crimes or talk about your urges because you’re too busy drooling on your chin.
I like my dark thoughts and memories of all the lives I so easily took; they kept me company and reliving them in my mind’s eye was the only thing keeping me from going on a killing spree in here. They kept me isolated at first, in a steel room like a prison cell, with a bed and a crapper but nothing else. The four guards would accompany any staff and they loved getting rough if I gave them any backchat. I lived for those days in there but over time I was allowed to mix with other patients; most are so insane they’re not even human, and some are so far gone they try to kill other patients. Others are like me to a degree; born cold, vacant of empathy. My memories and tales of the crimes of the people in here kept me at bay for a long time, and it wasn’t until Melissa told me she saw Blake here once that I craved a new and old obsession to play with. I missed his gullibility and the affection he had for me. I was surprised how easily he wrote me off. Melody must have a golden pussy; she ensnared him with it and poisoned him with love. Fucking love is most men’s downfall, that and lust.
Melissa felt sorry for me and I used it against her. I told her about Blake and how much I missed him and had no one, one night when she was trying to “get to know me.” She had listened to me talk about him and soaked up every lie I poured on her, so when she saw his name on a sign out form she was eager to tell me how he obviously still cares and loves me.
Big brother couldn’t help his urges either, apparently, and came here to check up on me. It only took a few tears for her to agree to look up his address in the files, and a few more to get her to agree to go to said address and take some pictures for me.
“I miss him so much and would do anything to make things right between us,” I sobbed, and she ate it up.
They let these people work with the insane and they’re crazier than us. She was crazier than I will ever be. Humans’ need for comfort is so powerful, and so many people confuse lust with love that it makes them vulnerable to predators like me. Women like Melissa crave the touch and love of a man so badly they’ll accept it from any source. She convinced herself I was a victim to sate her own conscience. The stupid sick fucking cunt. If I’m the victim then her molesting a patient made her sicker than any of us. I used her weakness against her and laughed at her stupidity in my head whenever I told her I loved her, and she cried with joy.
When she came to me a week later with pictures of Blake kissing Melody on a porch, I nearly strangled her to death while I fucked her looking at the image.
Melody stayed with him? She disappointed me. Her role in my life played host to many fantasies in here. I went over the outcome of that night at her house and changed things in my head for different outcomes, but they all let her live; she was a fun toy after all, and went beyond the expectations I had for her. A week after Melissa brought me the first images, she handed me another that became my game changer.
I look down at the picture in my hands now; it’s the one she gave me seven years earlier of Cereus, my niece. How beautiful she was. I adapt to the circumstances laid out to me and this, just like with Melody, is fate. I need to know her and be in her presence, look into the green eyes she inherited from her mother and delve into her mind. So I decided to “get well.” It took longer than I’d hoped, but I’m here now. Unfortunately for poor gullible Melissa, she won’t get to see my release as she was beaten to death in an escape attempt by a mass murderer known in here as Mask; he used to cut his victims faces off with a scalpel and wear them.
“Are you ready?”
I look at the iron gates keeping me inside and nod my head. The cranking of the locks loosening and sliding open make a rare but real smile tilt my lips.
THEY TOLD ME I’D HAVE to stay in a hostel of sorts with other out patients, Grace Manor. It didn’t mean anything other than freedom back then, but now, looking around at the busy street, the noise almost deafening from the traffic rumbling the ground, and the filth on the floor of the lobby, it’s all displeasing.
The chatter and footfall from the people passing by is overwhelming to the senses. After being locked away for so many years, it’s all too loud.
My care worker, Annabel, is a forty-year-old hag; her face resembles a catfish. Her eyes devour my ass every time she thinks I’m not looking but there is nothing I can gain from her to warrant playing her for her lustful glances, thank the devil. I would have to be plastered and stabbing her with a blade as well as my cock to manage a hard on for her festering cunt. She has been placed in charge of bringing me to the halfway house, also known as a rehabilitation home. I will be staying here for the first three months of my “freedom.”
Another thing I will never understand about the system is, why put all patients, insane or damaged, together? They release us and want us to live together in one building. Can you imagine the chaos we could create if we all got together and went on a rampage? My eyes are already on a blonde self-harmer, my dark thoughts fucking her mouth while whispering all the dreaded things she tells herself when she cuts, obliterating any progress she’s made with simple taunts about her lack of worth. She smiles at me coyly, her desire my tool and her weakness. They can’t charge you for murder if they kill themselves, right? I smirk back at her then trail my eyes to the girl she’s standing next to, a taller, thinner girl who has her unnecessary envy. I linger on her, feeding from the aura of self-hate and jealousy pouring from the blonde; it’s all so appetizing and the noise that was just thundering in my ears like a drill decimates. I’m free to play and they placed me amongst easy prey. Nothing can dampen that.
“There is a curfew. You are free to come and go but you must sign out and in, and be back inside by nine p.m,” Annabel says.
I force a smile and nod in agreement, telling myself that in three months I can disappear if I choose to.
“This is Jason. Jason, Ryan,” Annabel introduces me.
I shake the offered hand of the desk clerk. He has long brown hair that’s greasy and pulled back. His beard has crumbs lurking in the tangles from the sandwich he’s chewing while talking to me. I need to bleach my hand and his body so I can slice him up and not catch anything, the dirty bastard. He hands me an envelope with my key inside.
“There is no bringing people in to stay the night. You are allowed guests, but they must sign in and be out by curfew. There are cameras above me and in all the walkways, so no sneaking people in after hours.” He squints his eyes and glares at me as if he’s caught me doing so before.
“Okay,” I agree, refraining from breaking all my progress by using my thumbs to push his eyeballs through the back of his skull.