I just wanted answers.

I wanted to know why you would cause a soft being like myself

So much internal pain and heartbreak.

When you arrived,

You just couldn’t give me the answers I wanted.

“It was a mistake.”
“You are a beautiful and amazing woman.”
“You deserve better.”
“I told you I didn’t want anything serious.”

Only the same, lame, excuses men always give 

When they fuck up and don’t want to be accountable.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

I wanted to hurt you the same way you hurt me. 

After a struggle and a few punctures,

You were on the ground, slowly bleeding out. 

Your beautiful blue eyes were now bloodshot and filled with fear.

I couldn’t help, but to caress your face.

You flinched at my touch,

Which turned me on. 

A sinister smile creeps onto my face as I grip your face,

Making eye contact. 

I turn your head to reveal a small slit on your neck made during the fight for dominance. 

I admire the cut as I continue to get aroused by your weakness and you continue to be fearful of my next moves.

Without thinking, I lean forward and I can feel your body clench beneath mine.

I tap my tongue on the cut before putting it fully on. 

My tongue swirls around the spot before I begin sucking. 

I notice your heart is beginning to beat faster and you are no longer clenching.

I never had this craving before and I can’t help, but to continue sucking

As this is the ultimate pleasure. 

Once I am fulfilled, I removed myself from the slit and observed him.

He laid there, looking as lifeless, pathetic and useless as ever.

He was dead

And I finally got the closure I was yearning for. 


They always come back.

It’s not something new to me.

I stare at you, with love or with hate in my eyes,

As you beg for me.

You beg like a child in need of their mother

And it admiring,

Almost arousing for me. 

I love when they return and beg for me back.

It make me feel like a king on their throne,

Overlooking all the peasants below them. 

I pull your sorrowful face that is soaked with tears and snot 

Up towards mine. 

You look so disgustingly pitiful this way and I love it.

“What are you sorry for, sweetie?”

You tried to lower your head in shame, but I grab your chin hard and pull it back up.

“What are you sorry for?” I spit out at him.

“I’m sorry for,” you begin as tear continue to fall down your face.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m really sorry.”
I drop your chin from my hands as I continue to look at you with disgust.

They always come back to apologize, to beg for a second chance.

They always do

And it feels so godly. 


I can’t stop crying. I just can’t. My tears run down my face like a cool, spring stream. They collect and dry on my pillows. I feel my being beg my heart to stop beating, to cease the everlasting sorrow within my soul.

Bottles upon bottles are filled with my tears and crescent moons form and leak blood within my palms. My brain will soon erupt as it can’t handle this much distress.

Slowly, My eyes grow sore and empty. My muscles are weak and beg for relief. My head begins to pound rapidly. My will to live is depleted.

My brain uses the little power it possess to turn my attention to my appearance in the mirror. My face is cover with wet streaks of make-up that is beginning to dry. My hair is dull and lifeless. My clothing is covered with dried blood, my dried blood. My hands are numb and blood still drips from them.

Despite this, I can’t help, but to smile. My tired face is able to pull my lips into a big, joyous smile. I have lost every sense in my being and I have been dehumanized. But I love it. I feel like I have been reborn and renewed into something better, something more terrifying and disturbed. I can’t help but to love every bit of it and what’s to come. 


He watches as the water rinses away the soap from my tan body. The soap slides along my curves and down to the shower tiles. I met him two months ago and I’m already sickly obsessed with him. He tugs at the dark tie wrapped around his neck as I continue the erotic show through the glass shower.

“Girlie. My girlie,” he moans, pulling the tie off and unbuttoning his shirt. This is our last night together before he goes back to Italy. We wanted to make it memorable. 

I press my round, bare ass on the glass and sway it back and forth, teasing him. I could hear him getting up from his seat and approaching the mirror. A smile grows across my face. He pulls open the shower door, pulling me out of the steam of water and into his muscular arms. I kiss every bit of his pale chest, getting lower as I do so. Before I could unbutton his pants, he takes my chin into his hand and pulls me up off my knees. 

Then, he looks at me, stares at me. The expression is unrecognizable to me. It’s a look he has never given to me before. His big, dark eyes are set on mine and I can’t detect what is going through his mind. I don’t know if I should feel aroused or scared, but I can’t help but to feel aroused. 

“Baby, why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, but he says nothing in return and just pulls my damp body into his clean suit to pursue a thirsty, lustful kiss. Our tongues swirl together as I attempt to be closer to him. My lower region is starting to swell as his fingers crawl down my spine.

As the kiss breaks, the feeling of a thousand needles poking my back arises. I chuckle as my body grows weak and I fall into the man’s arms. He just stabbed me in the back and he’s about to do it again. We make eye contact again as he pulls the knife out of my back for the second time. My body begins to become overwhelmed and begins to shut down, but I can’t help but to be at complete bliss. I’m dying by the hands of a foreign man from a foreign country. I couldn’t ask for a better, more erotic death. I can feel an orgasm rising within my weakened body and I know it is the last thing my body will ever do.

The last thing I hear him say, before my demise, is,


It wasn’t planned

I’m sorry for the lack of posting! I’ve had final with University and had to keep on track with that. I hope you guys enjoy this short story and I will post more this week. – The Paramour

I didn’t mean to. I just wanted you all to myself. The second you entered me was the second I knew you were meant to be mine. You felt so right within me. My legs wrapped perfectly around your waist as you pushed into my small center. I didn’t want you to leave me. Ever. I didn’t want to cause you any pain. Ever. I know you hate pain, but I just couldn’t let you be with anyone else. I watched as you reached your climax and as I reached for the knife. Within seconds, the knife was struggling to penetrate your back. Your muscles spasmed and you tried to push me away at the second or third stab, but it was to no advantage. You fall onto your open wounds and whine like a child in pain. 

My poor baby, 

My poor, poor, baby.

Don’t worry or whine, it will be ok.

You’re safe 

with me now.

Faithful Friend

I recently got a new cat named Lucky. She is a Maine Coon and has a combination of brown and light fur with a button nose. She’s an angel and the sweetest cat ever. However, she does have a flaw. Her tongue was abnormally large, but I never saw it as a real problem.

My boyfriend and I never had a healthy relationship. He doesn’t have the best life and can take it out on me, but I don’t want to leave him. I think you probably know where this is heading.

One day, I just got so fed up with his torture. He recently got fired from his 5th job of the year and was taking it out on me. So, I took a knife to his throat and sliced it like butter. It was nice to watch him struggle and I felt a sense of relief once he took his last breath. His blood painted the walls and the hardwood floors, I didn’t know what to do.

But during my panic, my Maine Coon came swaying into the room. With her tail high and her ears back. She observed the scene and observed my state. And began licking. She started to lick up the drying blood off the floors and chew on his open flesh. She stopped and looked at me as to ask if I’m going to  join her. I smiled wide and followed her lead. 

The night he told me he loved me

We just came from dinner at a local diner. The moon was out and shining, enlightening us under her glory. He was hold my hand and I was trying to keep the beast within me tamed. We walked over the wooden bridge. I felt like I was on a light cloud. I felt like I was in heaven. Then, he stopped. He stopped and turned to face me and palmed my face in his hands. And, he said it. He said those three fucking words.

“I love you.”

The second those word left his mouth, I broke apart. Something within me switched off and the beast, the evil being, came out. My body went haywire and I had no control over it. My brain shut off, the veins in my neck snapped, my head became stiff and heavy. Then, my stomach turned and my legs snapped, causing me to fall onto the bridge. He tried to help me, he truly did, but it was too late. The night he told me he loved me was the night I died and became the evil being I am today.

Too Soon

We could’ve worked out.
I thought we were perfect for each other.
But you knew too much,
Too soon.
You found out my secret,
My darkest secret.
And now you have to pay the price.

When I first saw you,
I knew you would be the only one for me. 
Getting you wasn’t easy.
It was more of a possession.

I stalked you.
I visited you in your dreams.
I inserted myself into your daily life.
I became your sickness,
And you loved every bit of it.

I bound our souls together,
As one,
And we were doomed from there.

It wasn’t a mistake at all.
It just didn’t go as planned.
You became too involved with me,
And found out about my past lovers
And their fates.

I held you tight in your final hours.
You simply weren’t supposed to find out.

As I plunged the knife into your chest,
Through your heart,
I released you.

I didn’t want to do this to you
Because you were the one.
But you couldn’t be subjected to who I truly am.

The Sick Wife

There’s something within me that is pure evil, but I can’t pinpoint what it is

I am pulled out of my delusional state by the cry of my baby girl, Somi at 7:04 A.M.. I slide my slender body out of the royal king sized bed and place my small tan toes on to the chilled floor. I guide myself over to Somi’s cream bassinet. Her tan face lights up with a smile once she sees her sickened momma. Her big, brown eyes are glowing with the glory of her father and burning of the evilness of her mother. 

“Is someone hungry or did they just miss their momma?” I coo as I reach down to place her on my hip and pinch her puffy cheeks. She’s a sign that I am somehow still human. We exit the bedroom and stroll down the hallway, heading towards the kitchen. The kitchen had been newly renovated to model the kitchen in Sia’s Los Feliz home. I place Sonni on the marble countertop as I swing to the fridge to grab a pre-made smoothie bowl. Somi eagerly watches and bounces as I sway towards her with the bowl. The second it is in front of her, she digs right. I chuckle as I leave her to own devices, she’s smart enough to know not to leave from the counter. But I wouldn’t be too upset if she somehow falls and cracks her skull in half. I slip out onto the balcony connected to the kitchen. The sun is already rising and I can feel the warmth on my skin, warming my cool body and awakening the evil within. I turn to see my daughter, still tearing away at the smoothie bowl. I hope she doesn’t turn out to be like me, an evil woman who desires pain and destruction within the world. I hope I never have the urge to take it out on her.

As I zoom out, the sound of keys clashing against one another and the front door closing in the distance snaps me back to reality. In a haste, I exit the balcony, making sure to lock it behind me. When I turn around, standing at the countertop in his black Lemaire suit, running his fingers through Somi’s hair is Roman, my husband. He is the exact copy of River Phoenix, right out of the film Running on Empty. His aura is dark and even though he was playing with Somi, his crisp, blue eyes were locked on me. Whenever he looks at me, I feel like he can look into my soul and see how disturbed I truly am.

“Why are you always doing that?” I stroll over to the counter, avoiding eye contact and picking up the bowl. 

“Doing what, Baby? I brought you breakfast from Sarabeth’s.” He places a large bag onto the counter and begins taking out containers of food. I place the bowl at the bottom of the sink. I take Somi off the counter and walk her over to her walker in one of the corners of the living room. As I walk with her, an urge, an idea, sneaks into my mind. I imagine myself throwing Somi across the living room with so much force that she dies on impact. I clinch her tightly as I drag my mind back into reality. I sit her in the walker and she touches my face with her little face and smiles. She must know.

Roman is watching me, analyzing my actions with our daughter. His stone cold face doesn’t turn when I catch him. I walk over to him as Somi zooms around the living room. 

“I was planning to cook breakfast after I fed Somi and got myself together.” Before I could continue, Roman palms my face and pulls me into a kiss. He tastes like rock candy and is as harsh as winter winds. We met during university while I was studying English and he was studying Business. I was his tutor for one of his classes and the rest is history. Now, we live in a penthouse in New York City with a one year old daughter. I am an editor for a fashion magazine and he’s planning to take over his father’s business. He breaks away and licks his pink lips while analyzing me.

“It is ok, baby. The housekeeper will be over soon to take care of her and the house. There is a company lunch today and I’m bringing you along with me.” Ronan looks at his Rolex watch and back at me. “It’s almost 8 A.M., so I want you to eat something and take the next couple hours to get ready. We are leaving at 2:30 P.M..” I nod and give him the sweetest smile I could muster. “Don’t force it.”

It’s 2:11 P.M. and my curls are alive, my face is painted, and my dress from Saks is fitted onto my body. I feel human again. Roman is pacing back and forth in our bedroom, talking to his father. Roman is the heir of his father’s business and apparently this lunch is bigger than I thought it would be. I struggle to zip up the back of my dress and call for Roman. After a few moments, he comes into our walk-in wardrobe and dressing room, inspired by the one in Gisele Bündechen and Tom Brady’s Los Angeles home. I motion at the zipper and he strolls over, still on the phone with his father. He runs a finger down my spine, chilling my heated spirit. He zips me up and hangs up the phone on his father, putting it in his pocket. He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his head on my shoulder. We glare at each other in the mirror, taking each other in during this brief moment. Our relationship is still like we’re young, college students experiencing love for the first time. But deep down, I didn’t understand why he still stays with me after seeing my true form. I’ve cost him his life, his reputation and his career several times in the past. For example, I thought he was cheating a couple years back. I stormed into his office and exploded on him during one of his business proposals, threatening his life and embarrassing him. Turns out, the woman was only his business partner that he didn’t tell me about. Was I really at fault, though? 

“You’re the most gorgeous being I’ve ever seen.” Before I could respond, the housekeeper knocks on the door to inform us that our chauffeur had arrived. 

Lunch was at Mastro’s Steakhouse. A beautiful restaurant with outstanding atmosphere, savory food and delectable wine. Roman kept me glued to his side while he interacted with the guests. The visions, the sick, twisted visions, were slowly dancing in my mind as I thought about the amount of people I could kill within one minute with the sharp steak knives. I would grab Roman’s hand whenever it became too intense and I believe I grabbed his hand about twenty times within the three hour long lunch. I didn’t feel real at all. The lunch was officially over at 7 P.M. and the warm sun had started to go down, leaving me cold. The drive home was quiet, roman didn’t speak to me. Once we entered, Somi ran to us and Roman picked her up before I could. The housekeeper tells me that she made dinner and finished all her tasks. I dismissed her. I took a deep breath and decided I wanted to make brownies. 

Roman had put Sonmi down for bed and is now playing guitar on the couch. I watch him as the brownies cool on the stovetop. I scoop a piece out of the pan and center it on a plate. I take the plate with me as I sit beside Roman. He’s playing She’s Always a Woman by Billy Joel, a song that he loves because it reminds him of me. 

“Roman.” He turns his head towards me and raises his eyebrows to signal that he’s listening. “Would you still love me, be married to me, if I was a monster? Would you still love me if I killed us both?” He looks at me, with blank eyes and kisses me softly. During our first month of dating, I had an episode where I lost control of myself and attempted to kill him with a butcher knife. He didn’t stop me, only waited for me to calm down and held me while I hysterically cried and apologized a dozen times.

“I chose you to be my wife, my life partner for eternity, baby.” His lips still linger on mine as I take in his words. “I would give you my beating heart if it meant not having to scrape your brain off the living room walls.” I sigh, the evil being within me sighs. That’s all I needed to hear. I stand up, with the plate in hand, and head back to the kitchen. I throw away all the brownies that were laced with rat poison before going back into the living room and falling deep into Roman’s arms.

The Green Light: Republished

  • I decided to edit a short story I previously published on this platform and here is the final results! I hope you guys enjoy it and I will be posting more regularly soon – Ari, The Paramour

Anxious. Anxious! — I’m terribly, terribly anxious. And you have the audacity to question my sanity, doctor? You think I’m deranged? Ha! What even are the requirements of being insane? Don’t I look like a stable woman? I’ve seen all the things the world has to offer and I’ve heard the voices from heaven and hell. And you — you, doctor! –You think I’m crazy? There are monsters out here killing, torturing and doing unspeakable things and you’re here questioning me and not them? Hmp! Fine, sit back and observe how calmly — collectively — I can tell you my bittersweet tale.

Now, Listen to me, I did love the man. I loved him so much that I bore him a little child, but he wasn’t completely innocent. You see, there was something about him that bothered me — angered me. What was it? Ah! It was his eye. When I first arrived at the ranch in New Jersey, surrounded by oak trees and right behind a bright, blue lake, he had opened the wooden door and looked at me– my heart soon froze over.  He had the eye of a beautiful, cold-blooded reptile, the kind that is able to kill you with one glare. But besides that, there was something else about his eyes that bothered me. What was it? It was the green light. Yes, yes, it was the green light! I saw, I felt malice and envy in his eyes and I knew it, I just knew — I had to lead him to his demise. Men like him can’t be roaming out in our streets, doctor. 

As months went by, I planned his joyful death while he planned our sorrowful wedding. You see, doctor, I never planned on marrying the man. I only agreed to the arrangement because I was with a child and I didn’t want her to be born out of wedlock. My parents raised me to be a good religious woman. Throughout our days, I would observe his ways from afar. From watching him drink his morning cup of green tea out of his favorite dark green tea cup to sitting on a log to see him chop down the oak trees with his rusty old axe while occasionally wiping sweat from his bushy, dark brown brows. I stalked and took in his every move like a fierce lion watching their upcoming prey. I wanted no mistakes to arise in my plan. When he noticed my deadly eyes on him, he would give me a heartfelt smile that made me sick to my stomach. This man was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in all of my twenty-three years of life.

Let me tell you about my pregnancy. It was a strange one, to say the least. Five months in, faint green lines began to form on my belly and spread like the roots of a tree. They terrified me. I applied stretch mark cream religiously, but they never went away. And the vomit, oh, the vomit, was pure green! Even if I strictly stayed away from green foods, green liquid would somehow always come out of me. I couldn’t wait to get this being out of me.

Unfortunately, our baby, my little rotten piece of joy, came before our wedding. She was my blessing from hell. Once she was placed in my arms I looked at her puffy, tan face — I looked into her brown eyes. And you know what I saw, doctor? I saw the green light — that damned green light! It took everything within me not to throw the child across the room and curse its existence. How could it be possible for her to take on his flaw? My first thought was to end her life right then and there, but I decided to let her live — it wasn’t her fault she inherited that flaw — it was her father’s. We named her emerald.

Now, doctor, let’s talk about my wedding day. My mind was set and the decorations were perfected. My dress was pressed and the guests were seated. Little emerald had on the cutest dark green dress — you should’ve seen her! Once my makeup was finished and my veil was sewn into my hair,  I looked into the mirror and I saw it — I saw the green light in my very own eyes. He had given it to me! How could this even be possible? I took exact precautions to prevent this, but here it is: rotting in my very own being. At that moment, I decided that it was time. It was time for him to meet his maker. I fished around the drawers and cabinets of the church for a knife — I found a hunting knife and a switchblade. I slipped it into my bridal garter and quietly searched for the man.

After a bit of searching, I found him. He was fixing up his white and green suit in a tall mirror, but stopped when he noticed me. What did he say? Oh! He called me darling and began to approach me before he noticed me pulling out the hunting knife. His facial expression hardens and he looks at the knife, then to me. He murmured something, but I wasn’t listening. I just attacked. I made a lunge at him with the hunting knife tightly in my hand, aiming at his neck. He moved out of my path of rage and grabbed me — throwing me against the wooden wall before running away down the hall towards the kitchen. I steadied myself and chased after him. Surprisingly, doctor, I was able to catch up with him. I leaped onto his back, wrapping my legs around his torso. I drove the knife into one of his broad shoulders and viciously pulled it out. I did this again — and again — and again until he fell to the ground. Oh, you should’ve seen him, doctor, his suit was covered in blood and he was filled with agony — so much agony! I couldn’t help, but laugh as he tried to crawl away from me. I shoved the knife in his back muscle as deep as it could go.

Don’t get me wrong, he put up a good fight, but it didn’t last long. He lied, sprawled out on the wooden kitchen panels, his white collar stained red and the green light shining bright — he had accepted his fate. His breathing was slowing down, but his strong eyes followed my every movement. I dropped the hunting knife and pulled the switchblade out and slowly kneeled on the ground next to him, letting the polluted blood soak my pure white wedding dress. He was such a beautiful creature and I adored him. But he must die — in agony. I gripped the switchblade in my right hand, held his chin with my left hand and drove the blade into his right eye. He hollered as I jammed and twisted the knife through the soft, squishy flesh of his eye. I swiftly took the blade out when I hit a bone and put it in his right eye, going through the same motions as I did with the left eye. He didn’t cry this time. I left the blade in his eye and looked at him. He was dead — he was beautiful — it wasn’t my problem anymore. 

My wedding dress and my veil was covered in cool blood — his blood. I turned around and saw my emerald. Her stuffed face was blank and her eyes were on her father’s corpse. But, doctor, I noticed — the green light — the green light was gone. It was gone! His demise caused the death of the green light! I also noticed — as she continued to look at her father’s body — that she was smiling — from ear to ear — she was smiling. I walked toward her and picked her up. She put her small hands on my face and gave me a soft kiss on my nose. She was thanking me for getting rid of our problem. I smiled and I began walking downstairs to attend my wedding. I couldn’t be late to my own wedding.

Now, doctor, do you still think I’m insane?