Nicks POV
"You're not a murderer." I sighed.
Justin was complaining again. I still couldn't understand why he felt responsible for taking lives when he just sat and watched.
"I'm a murderer. Nick, if you were ever caught and arrested, I'd be arrested too." Justin sat on the floor, pulling at his dark hair as he did when he was stressed.
I took the time to notice it was getting long. He would need a haircut soon. It had been about three and a half months since I had kidnapped him. He had turned 18 a few weeks ago, and we celebrated by watching a movie upstairs with Mr Graham. Justin didn't want to celebrate his birthday, and I could understand why. He must've thought we were celebrating the day he came into this world and was forced to live a life of cruelty. Something overly dramatic like that. Although Justin loved my praise, a celebration seemed to overwhelm him. I couldn't help respect my slave each time I remembered his past, though. It was strange because I never thought it possible for me to respect someone unlike Mr Graham or myself.
I wondered about Justin's birth often. How was he born into such an unfortunate life? Was he the result of incest? Rape? Did his mother die in childbirth and that caused his father to become so monstrous? Why wasn't Justin as bad as his father? Did I take him just in time to save him? Well... I didn't want to save him. I wanted him to kill for me. I wanted to corrupt Justin.
But he just couldn't seem to, I thought as I looked down at him. He was sitting on the floor hating himself for my actions, as if he were the cause of them.
"Baby, nobody can blame you for killing anybody. I'm the one that held the knife that took their lives. You can't blame yourself." I said.
Justin probably thought I meant to be comforting, telling him not to blame himself. Instead, I saw myself telling him not to take my credit. He didn't kill them, he didn't get to claim that victory.
Justin didn't respond. Did he finally see my view? Did he understand that he wasn't good enough to be the one who killed all those people? He could never be good enough if he felt remorse."Why am I like this?" Justin asked miserably.
"Like what?" I asked, half interested in the conversation now. He was beginning to annoy me.
So emotional? So unemotional? So dismissive of the things I did? When he didn't respond, I glanced at him for his answer and was shocked to see he felt annoyance towards me.
"I watch you kill people and get turned on by it. I know it's wrong. They all have lives, somebody that loves them. Why do I get off on it?" Justin was actually glaring at me as if it was my fault he felt that way.
I shrugged. I didn't want to mention his father. Mr Davis was likely the reason Justin was the way he was. How did Mr. Davis condition Justin to physically enjoy the abuse he had endured? Was it admirable or sick? I knew that I hated the man for what he did to Justin, but without that abuse, could it be possible to have someone as loyal as Justin? Could I teach somebody the same way? Justin already seemed loyal but I wasn't the cause of it. He came ready to serve. Does it take all of someone's life of abuse to make someone like Justin or could I just go find somebody and turn them loyal over a span of months?
Could Justin ever be loyal enough to kill for me? He obeyed my commands to do some pretty weird shit for the past few weeks since I brought Drakes siblings here. I had killed with Mr Graham a few times and showed him how Justin obeyed me. How far would Justin go, though? How far could I push him?
These were all things I wanted to test. I'd have to get another victim, and keep him alive for a short time like I did with Justin. I'd document their differences, and then kill the newbie. I'd need to gather all of my information on Justin first, though. And how would I do that without Mr Grahams knowledge? Could I get his permission?
I grabbed my backpack and pulled out a new spiral notebook. I grabbed a sharpie and wrote JUSTIN across the top.
"I won't be sleeping here tonight." I told my slave as I stood.
Justin pouted at me and I laughed.
"I'll leave the furnace on so you won't be cold." I tried to reassure him.
I gathered up my things to leave and added wood to the fire for Justin. I kissed him goodbye and then left.
Once home, I locked myself in my room and pulled out my combination safe from under the bed. There were hundreds of pictures inside it now, from all my previous murders. Luke, Alec, Adam, Alice, some nameless women that Mr Graham and I killed together. There were hundreds of pictures of Justin especially. I'd take pictures of him obeying my commands, pictures of him sitting on my victims, enduring punishments, all sorts of my slave.
I smiled to myself after finding one picture of Justin when I first brought him to Mr Grahams basement, how frightened he used to be. I sat it aside and pulled out the notebook with Justin's name across the top.I flipped to the first page and began to write an introduction to my documents.
"I will not say my name in case anybody finds this journal without my intent. Everything inside is real and so are the pictures. Justin Davis is my Slave and I am his Master. These are my notes on his progress as my victim. My research is the only reason I let this boy live."
I sighed, satisfied with myself. The last part wasn't exactly true since I had kept him alive this long without any intent to research his behavior. Honestly, I had no idea why I kept him alive. It definitely wasn't love or anything humane like that. I just liked his obedience, that was probably it. I had never met someone like Justin; someone who needed to be controlled. It was truly a mystery. Shouldn't someone like him be impossible to please sexually? It was more typical for victims of sexual abuse to become sex repulsed, or at least I assumed. I guess one could become hypersexual as well, since I had the sexual need to torture and kill. I never thought it could be possible for me to be sexually pleased by someone I wasn't about to kill. But Justin proved that wrong.
How could he crave my touch and attention? He was still interesting, that's why he was still alive, I decided. I wrote down more in Justin's notebook about the first day I brought him in. I wrote his estimated weight and height and made sure to mention how sickly he was, how freezing his skin was to the touch. He was pale with a slight greenish tint, probably anemic. I placed a picture of him from when he was asleep on the the victim table and then another from when I took blindfolded pictures of him.
Over a few pages I documented the improvements Justin made under my care. He had gained weight, got some color to his skin, his hair was longer but I didn't know if that was an improvement or just because I didn't cut it. I mentioned my marks on his body, my name carved into his skin. I also documented how he obeyed my command to kiss Adam and Alice few weeks ago. The memory made me smile and I wished I had taken a picture. I did take pictures of him unwillingly holding Adams decapitated head in his lap, at least. That was just the first time, though. Now there were many pictures of Justin doing things to victims.
I would organize those by date later and add them to the notes. I closed the journal and slid it into my backpack. It would be more safe in Mr Grahams basement. I locked up the safe full of my pictures and placed it under my bed. With a sigh, I undressed for bed.
My dick was hard after looking at all the photos of Justin and my victims. The sky outside was nearly black and I wondered how Justin was doing, all alone in the basement, surrounded by that complete darkness. I wanted him here to jack me off. I crawled into bed and hugged one of my pillows to my chest. It would be my temporary replacement until I could hold my slave again.
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Confessions of a Psychopath [bxb]
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