Torturous Affairs

Prologue

Dean walked into the dark house and flicked the light switch on. Another long day at work. Being a detective is difficult when your main job is searching for The Demon, a very high end serial killer. No one has ever seen his face and lived, no eye witnesses, no remains, nothing.
He slid off his coat, hanging it onto the coat rack. He turned on his record player and began playing Frank Sinatra's A Lovely Way To Spend An Evening.
He turned around and wickedly smiled at the woman sitting at the end of his dining room table, tied to a wooden chair by leather straps. He took off his hat and tossed it onto the table. He spoke, "Hey dolly, ease up. I don't got all night and I know you sure as hell don't either."
She spat at his face, "Why don't you just drop me already?"
Dean wiped the spit off of his face and rubbed it onto his suit pants. He grabbed the silver knife out of the silverware drawer. He walked close to her and whispered in her ear, "Man, you sure are a pain in the neck."
He slit her throat and laughed at his own joke. He lifted her body up and carried her into the basement to the incinerator. There was something he loved about the smell of burning bodies. He walked upstairs, singing along to Sinatra. He washed the blood off of his hands in the kitchen sink. He lived alone in a big house that he had inherited after his father's demise. Of course, Dean was the one who had killed him. The man had it coming. John had beaten Dean close to death his entire life growing up. He only felt a tiny bit of guilt when he found out he was written into his father's will to inherit the house and half of his money. Actually, he didn't feel guilty at all. His father killed his mother when Dean was just four years old. John made Dean watch while Dean cradled his baby brother in his arms. He hated his father more than anyone. He thoroughly enjoyed carving his heart out of his chest eight years ago. The only family he had left was his little brother Samuel, who was four years younger than him.
Dean picked up his leather bound journal in his hands and crossed Ruby Masters off of his list. It was a list of every person he ever bumped off or in other words, tortured and murdered. Dean was good at keeping this part of his life a secret. In fact, he was the best. How could he ever get caught if he is the detective running the case? He was a criminal. Actually, he was worse than a criminal. No one alive knew what he looked like. Anyone who met him just saw him as a normal, charming, aspiring, young detective. They weren't entirely wrong. The only difference was he was far from being normal. He was a murderer. He had the best cover up for being the biggest serial killer in all of Kansas. The only case he's been working for the past seven years has been his own case. No one would ever think the killer was the only detective working on the case. It was a brilliant scheme. He was sick and twisted with his demonic-like methods. Which is part of the reason why many referred to him as "The Demon."
And these are his torturous affairs.