I want you to feel safe. I’m a health care worker. I take care of people for a living. I’m warm and light and I smile easily. I like to joke around and laugh and make others feel comfortable. I can’t really be a monster, can I?
I want you to feel intrigued. I love to learn and read and write and travel and explore. I love to exercise and spend time outside, to do woodworking projects and play games with friends. I love to talk about my interests, and I want to hear about yours! I want to learn what makes you tick, what makes you happy. I want to learn what makes you the beautiful unique soul you are. That talk of violence, that dark desire, surely that wasn’t me, right?
I want you to feel comfortable. To happily accept my offer for a coffee date, for a walk through the park, for dinner and a movie at my place, a little getaway at an AirBnB. After all, I’ve talked up my cooking skills, and you’re dying to put them to the test. Why second guess the duffle bag in the trunk? It’s probably just a gym bag right?
I want you to feel fear. When the door is locked and my hand is around your throat and you’re pinned to the wall I want you to panic. I want you to fight back, to punch and kick and scratch. I want you to try to run away, to desperately fight for freedom you know deep down is lost.
I want you to scream. I want you to buck and writhe in pain and agony as I use your tight little body as my plaything. As I turn you into nothing more than a toy. I want you to look back and see every mistake you made, and regret it while I abuse you again and again and again, each time worse than the last.
I want you to break.
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