I Still Don't Think I Killed Him.

I’m about ninety percent sure I didn’t kill him.

I know I shot him in the head, between the eyes matter fact.

I know I watched his body crumple to the ground.

There were no signs of life.

That was before I remembered most vampiric creatures didn’t need to breathe.

Unfortunately, this realization occurred three months after the fact.

Like I said,

I’m about ninety percent sure I didn’t kill him.

Lately I’ve had this feeling I can’t shake,

Like I’m being followed.

I don’t like feeling paranoid.

Paranoia leads to apprehension

Apprehension lead to Carelessness

Carelessness meant Mistakes

And Mistakes,

Well, Mistakes could mean its lights out for me.

I’ve made too many enemies.

They paled in comparison to him.

Where they had power in numbers,

He commanded a hundred times that power alone.

I was afraid of him.

We were once gentle lovers, I want to say.

But I don’t think anything about us was ever gentle.

We were passionate,

We were jet fuel and a torch,

We were a ticking time bomb.

He was my trigger switch.

I was the bullet with his name on it.

We were a match made in hell.

And yet when I was with him,

I was in Nirvana.

I don’t know if it was the weed or the sex.

But I always came back for more.

Even when things were bad,

I was like an addict,

And he was my drug of choice.

“Your heart rate has elevated.”

The onboard AI.

It had been monitoring me.

Relief washed over me, for a moment I could relax.

He’s dead, right?

I ask.

“He has not shown up on any of my raiders and my sources have been quiet.”

The AI replies.

I still don’t believe he’s dead.

He’s waiting to lure me into a false sense of security.

Then he’s going to pounce,

LIke an apex predator.

He was a predator.

I was his prey.

I had always been his prey.

In the beginning I had his interest, at some point it became boredom

We fought, he was drunk, he swung.

I raised holy hell the likes in which the fallen angel had never seen.

His interest turned boredom became obsession,

I became an object to be claimed in the most intimate of fashions,

My freedom became his ownership

At times I fought this unwanted ownership

Other times I wore it like a badge of honor,

I was proud someone like him would want someone like me.

I’m just a human who left earth as soon as I could buy my own ship.

I merc’d myself out like a whore on the corner.

I shot people, I stole, and on occasion I kidnapped.

I was not worth his redemption.

Maybe that was why I let him abuse my body

I wasn’t worth it

I didn’t deserve the pleasure.

But that was the thing,

The pain was pleasure.

The cruel words,

Music to my ears,

The fingerprint bruises,

Claim marks

Bloodied?

I was offering my very life force to him.

We were something else.

We were toxic.

We were in love.

But I shot him.

I shot him for cheating on me with a fucking succubus.

I walked in on it,

She was knelt between his thick muscled thighs

His cock down her throat.

I caught him off guard kicking the door in.

We stared each other down for several moments.

“Darling, you weren’t supposed to be home yet. How dreadful.”

He was smiling when he said that.

‘Get her out of here.’

I remember walking away.

I also remember lighting a candle and tossing it on the couch.

I didn’t stick around to find out if the entire place caught fire.

They must’ve been fine

Because he met me at the docks of another station.

He played my body like an instrument,

As though I were specially crafted just for him

And when that beautiful orchestra was finished playing,

I shot him.

I still don’t think I killed him.