Twisted Truths

Chapter 11: Possession Perfected

I woke up feeling like a new man. Fresh. Powerful. The weight of the world had lifted, and in its place, excitement buzzed through me. Last night... the thrill, the blood, the rush of it all. It had been perfect. I could still hear the crack of the security guard's skull under the weight of my hand, the way his body had crumpled. The thought sent a surge of satisfaction through me.

I stretched, rolling out of bed, grinning as I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Today was going to be just as good. I could feel it. Everything was falling into place, just like I planned.

After a quick shower, I threw on some clothes and headed downstairs, a hum of anticipation buzzing in my chest.

And then I saw her—Kelly.

She was standing in the kitchen, dressed in a tight black dress that hugged every curve of her body. My eyes trailed down, catching a glimpse of her stockings, the delicate lace peeking out from beneath her skirt. A low growl rumbled in my throat.

She's mine.

She turned when she heard me coming, giving me a look, but all I could think about was how much I wanted to take her right there. My Kelly. All mine.

As I passed her on the way out, I slapped her arse, hard. She let out a small gasp, and I smirked. Mine. She didn't protest—if anything, I could see the spark in her eyes. She liked it.

"Good Girl"

I wasn't going into work today. Work didn't matter anymore. What mattered was watching everything unfold.

She followed me out the door, but we went our separate ways—Kelly heading to the office, me hanging back, waiting. I wanted to see Christine taken down.

I parked the car down the street, close enough to watch, but far enough to stay hidden. The minutes ticked by slowly, but I didn't mind. This was all part of the plan. The anticipation!

Sure enough, just after 9, the police showed up. Two officers marched into the building, and not ten minutes later, they came out with Christine in cuffs. Her face was pale, her body limp as they shoved her into the back of the police car.

I couldn't help it—I grinned. This was too easy. All of it.

I'm a genius.

Christine had been fun once, but she was weak now. She had let herself go, let life grind her down. But not me. I had it all figured out. Why hadn't I done this sooner? The thrill of control, the power to manipulate everything—everyone—it was intoxicating.

As the police car drove away, taking Christine with it, I leaned back in my seat, letting the satisfaction wash over me.

This is what winning feels like.

I headed home after that, feeling on top of the world. There was no need for work today. Today was too good for work. The shower was running, steam filling the room as I stripped down, letting the heat and the events of the morning wash over me.

I had done it. I had killed a man. And I had framed Christine for it. Kelly had no idea. Everything was perfect.

Kelly came home later, just as I was walking down the stairs, a towel wrapped loosely around my waist. I caught her eye immediately. There was something different about her today—something darker, more dangerous.

Before I could say anything, she strode over to me, yanking the towel off with one swift motion. My breath caught as she stood there, staring at me with a mix of hunger and anger.

Without a word, she pushed me back against the wall, her lips crashing into mine, her hands already trailing down my chest.

I didn't stop her. Why would I? This was what I wanted. This was what we both wanted.

We stumbled into the bedroom, our bodies colliding, a mess of hands and mouths and rough, desperate touches. She pulled me onto the bed, her nails digging into my back as I pinned her down, hard.

The sex was raw, primal. I took her like I had never taken her before—rough, dominant, and unapologetic. Every thrust sent another jolt of electricity through me, and as I fucked her, my mind drifted back to last night. To the feel of the guard's skull cracking under the paperweight. To the blood splattering across my hands.

I could almost feel it again—the rush of power, the thrill of taking a life. The way he had begged, the way his body had gone limp beneath me.

Kelly moaned beneath me, and I pushed harder, feeling the adrenaline from last night mixing with the heat of the moment. She didn't protest. If anything, she was urging me on, her body responding to every rough movement.

I could feel Kelly tightening around me, her breaths coming out in short, ragged gasps. I wasn't sure if she was more turned on by the danger or the brutality of it all, but I didn't care. She was mine. All mine.

I pounded into her harder, each thrust echoing the violence of last night. The thrill of the kill still fresh in my veins. And she loved it. She loved every second of it.

When we finally collapsed on the bed, both of us panting, I couldn't help but grin. I stared up at the ceiling, my heart still racing, a satisfied smile tugging at my lips.

This is how it should be.

Kelly lay beside me, her body still trembling slightly from the intensity of it all. But I didn't care. All I could think about was the thrill of the night before, and how much I had loved it.

I'm a genius.

And this was just the beginning.