We turn back the clock to five years ago. Things were what you would think of a world with villains and caped crusaders. An endless cycle of senseless violence and self glorification, but today was when things changed, and something was born.

“My name is Eustace Keller, and I'm a serial killer. My therapist told me that acceptance was important if I ever wanted to be truly happy. Accepting the things we can't change, and I'm not changing anytime soon.”

Eustace recalled what happened earlier that night.

“I'm a charitable guy. I'll start with that. I make pretty good money in my line of work. I am the editor in chief of my own fashion magazine, éblouissement d'une femme.

It's the eldest and most cherished in the city, loved by a large variable of women, blog posters, and other various news sources. Sorry if I'm getting ahead of myself, but I'm being honest hun. Anyways, I'm a fan of the night life, and I like taking a drive through the slums of the city. My car gleams through the streams of lights dancing through the night. Ladies of the night leaning against light posts, selling others comfort in exchange for their own discomfort. Dancers strolling out these bars, clubs, alleyways. Leading a lifeless, loveless existence; devoid of any commitment or love. Girls, girls, girls. I'm a philanthropist of sorts. That sort of freedom of responsibility or general respect for themselves or others is something to remark. These women make me so goddamn depressed when I see them on this stage, strung out, beat up, and left for dead. It makes me...want to save them.

It was nine months ago when I first saw her, couldn't be older than sixteen; I was itching to save her, so I pulled up beside her. She was filthy, her long black hair couldn't hide the filth of the city on her face. Her clothes were also tattered, and worn; stained with sin, falling apart by the seams.

I got out of my car slowly. She looked ghastly, a phantom sobbing silently haunting the deepest parts of my soul. Life was too disheartening and cruel for her to handle. Alone that was.

I asked her if she was in need, and wanted somewhere warm to stay, to clean herself off, help her get back on her feet. My guess was that it had been far too long since someone had treated her Human; as she winced back and covered herself. I extended my hand to her, and her trembling hand reached; weakly gripping. She had so much potential for true beauty.

I took her back to my chateau, which is on the upper east side, neighboring many well known celebrities. I cleaned her up, fed her, and gave her a bed to sleep in. She slept for almost two days, and when she woke, I brought her breakfast. I am phenomenal chef, and don't appreciate most foods unless I have prepared it myself; besides the occasional hazelnut candies I sneak from time to time. She was ecstatic by my grandeur and pleased with the sweet taste my strawberry crepes, topped with milk cream and a coffee on the side.

We went into the city, I took her to my physician, who is the best in the city, to make sure was healthy. Bought her the finest clothes, custom tailored by the trendiest tailors, and took her to the local spa to be cleaned and pampered. She was radiant, a model of beauty among women, but not the model of perfection that I could see in my mind.

We were together for nine month, she was healthier, happier, much more confident since I brought her by my side. She always hid her smile from me whenever I would glance over at her in admiration of what she had become, but I didn't need to see. Her happiness eradiated from her vessel like a sweet perfume. On the ninth month she had thanked me for all I had done for her, and told me if I hadn't come to drag her from the hellish existence, she would have clearly perished by this time. If not sooner.

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I brushed that off cooly and told her follow me to my bedroom. She followed without any hesitance, and I opened my doors for her. I lead her to my vanity area and told her to sit in front of the mirror. I then brought out a small box topped with eggshell lace. She lit up and thanked me again. I told her that there was no need to thank me and told her to open it. The box glimmered in her hazel pupils as she did. They were my grandmother's antique diamond earings, I said to her. She held my hand tightly as tears began to stream down her cheeks. I asked if she needed help putting them on; she could put them on herself and that I had already done enough for her. I love you, she had professed. I replied by kissing her deeply. She pressed her sweet lips against mine, warm breaths exchanged, and an embrace shared.

Stab! The sound of my knife piercing her abdomen. I grabbed the back of her head so she couldn't pull away. She danced in my arms; a dance of death as the knife brought us to the crescendo. It twisted and turned. Ribbons of her entrails swinging and slowly making their way to the floor, decorating the floor like tinsel on christmas day.The drums died out and her spotlights dimmed as her lungs strung out, taking her last breaths away. Her last performance and what a grand one as her organs made its final exit out.

You're perfection personified. You angel, you.”

“Do you regret your actions at all?”

“No, I do not. I was saving them! Don't you see that?! They were as good as dead! I gave them a life to live! Someone to believe in when there was no one to believe in!”

“You gave them hope and then took away that hope!”

“No...no! I'm a good person! I've lived my life making this world beautiful! They were all so beautiful!”

“You're a psychopath and a monster. You deserve what's coming to you.”

A distant voice began to coo.

“Euii.. [Yoo-Ee]”

“What? No.”

“Euii...my handsome grandson.”

“How?..”

A voice from a ghost long passed was calling to Eustace. This spirit was one of an aging woman who looked pale, but beautiful, almost translucent. She was wearing clothing from a time long past, and pearls had strung around her neck and a petruding collar bone sticking out the side of her neck. The blood had dried, but the longer it stood in his presence, the more the blood had began to animate and seep once more. The phantom had become more flesh like and much more terrifying.

“Get back in the ground you fucking bitch!”

“How dare you say something so hurtful to me you child. I never did anything to have you do what you did to me.”

“That's fucking bullshit! I saw you! Yes-yes, I saw you! You would bring men to your home-our home, and I would see you bring them into your bedroom! The bedroom may I add that I wasn't allowed to enter! Luckily our home was victorian style and had many hidden canverns hidden all around the house, behind the walls. My curiousity was bound to discover something, but my child like innosence was not prepared for what my eyes would uncover.

There was so many of them...so many. The faces became indistinguishable from eachother as they all took turns gazing upon your beauty.  The contours of your form, arms reaching, hands ran up and down your skin. Such velvety smooth skin. An artist couldn't express such purity justice.

It was the first time I had felt the pleasures of a man. My manhood held tightly in my hand, but it was all out of my reach.

I continued watching for years, slowly losing my ability to hold my desires back, and I finally had to succumb to my urges.

You were walking to the staircase, an hour after a usual session; the smell of desire still lingered through the air. I was torqued and ready to burst when I quietly followed an arms reach away from you. A creak from the floor alerted you to my presence, and my hand reached out to you as you turned. I failed to grasp you as you fell backward, floating through the air, shortly followed by a loud tumble down.

It wasn't long until the rouge made it's way to the surface of you. It pooled a wellspring of deep red, and it deeping around you, painting the hard wood floors with the lively color of autumn red leaves. It was true perfection.

Since then I can't help myself from trying to replicate that tapestry of mortality."

"So you are irredeamable. Nonetheless, your punishment is inescapable."

"Are you taking me away...to the abyss...to hell?"

The darkness from inside him began to manifest and consume him.

Their was no comfort in this. It was cold and unassuring. It became hard to breath.

Nothing could be seen, and he was lost to it.

Drowning in a heavy sea of sin.