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Lust for Pain: His Hell

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Author's note: I wrote this with intentions of a second installment. Also I do understand that what I want to portray here is a bit hard to grasp, that was my intention. The story is up for interpretation, for now.

I rolled over and placed my arms around Kathrine, her silky smooth skin felt well on my coarse palms. I inhaled, smelling her tangerine perfume; I always made fun of her for putting on perfume before she went to bed. Now I was thankful that she took the time, the sweet smell of fruit on her hair and body was soothing and helped me feel better.

She turned over and kissed me, her lips were soft and warm. She then started to bite my lip, at first only applying a little pressure at a time. I felt a rush of excitement and lust every time she bit my lip, the feeling only growing as she took longer and more intense bites.

I caressed her body and brought her closer to me. She continued to bite and bite until she tore off my bottom lip, I felt pure ecstasy. She continued to devour my face and body and I loved every minute of it. When she finished, she burped and let out a little smile.

I woke up.

In a panic, I grabbed for the lamp on my dresser and frantically tried to turn it on. Finally, after seconds of grabbing at nothing I found the switch. As light flooded the room, I turned to Kathrine. She was nowhere to be seen. Still acting irrational after the nightmare, I frantically searched the apartment for her. Our apartment was pretty small so this only took me a few minutes, she was gone.

I sat back down on my bed and started to calm down a little. I grabbed one of Kathrine’s pillows and began to rest my head on it. As I fluffed out the pillow, a piece of paper fell out. The paper had water stains and was crumpled; it looked like someone had handled it before. Curious, I picked it up and began to read the words written on it.

Dear Shawn,

I don’t really have time to write this so I’ll make it brief, I’m leaving you. I’m about to catch a plane to a faraway place with another man. I know this seems terrible and betraying, but we were not meant for each other. In the last two years we have been together, what is the happiest moment we have had? I can’t answer that and I know you can’t either.

I wasn’t happy Shawn and I know you weren’t either. My cab is here so goodbye. I want you to know that I wasn’t sad either. I wish you the best, Kathrine.

I dropped the note. The emotional distress I was experiencing was like nothing I had every known before. How could she have done this to me? I had thought things were going great for us. I had just bought her a necklace for our two year anniversary, we went to the best restaurant in town, and ended the night in passion.

I was going to propose to her a week from yesterday, we were going to have a beautiful wedding, with lots of flowers and whatever else she wanted. I went to the dresser and took out the ring that was to be hers. I touched the cold metal and gazed at the red ruby that laid in the center; Kathrine was never one for diamonds.

I began to remember.

Slowly, fuzzy memories started to float into my mind. I remembered coming home from work and calling for Kathrine, when she didn’t answer, I came into the bedroom and found that same note lying on the bed. I read the note and did just as I was doing now, wallowing in my own despair and heartbreak. I remembered the weeks of sulking around my apartment, vodka in one hand and a straight razor in the other. I remembered the many times I sat in the tub, warm water against my body, a bottle of Vicodin in my hand. Staring at that damned ring while I clutched my straight razor tightly, I wanted to end it all.

I killed myself.

Every memory that came back to me ended in my demise. I recalled killing myself many times and every time I would, I’d black out and wake up in bed, not remembering anything.

The pain.

All of a sudden, I felt like a bee had stung me on my temple. I touched where I had felt the sting and I immediately fell to the ground. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe, I was a rock on the floor. Funny how when can’t move, you feel so helpless, so scared. I was reduced to a human paperweight in mere moments.

I could move my eyes, but this didn’t make much of a difference, because tunnel vision was setting in from my lack of breathing. So I laid there, my body immobile, lungs burning, and the hope of help or recovery was quickly dwindling down to acceptance of the inevitable.

Blackness, I died again.

I awoke in a cold sweat, scared of what I had just witnessed, what I had just felt. I had a bad dream, I can’t recall the details, but it had something to do with me being eaten by Kathrine. I reached over, wanting to feel the reassuring warmth of my soon to be wife. She was not there.

It repeats.

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