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The pastor told us the true monster was inside all of us, and I took him to mean figuratively. I took it as a lesson in moral choices — choosing between good and evil. It wasn’t for another few weeks when the evil clawed its way out of all our sides that it occurred to me he may have meant it literally. It was my fault for not asking.

The pastor told us the true monster was inside all of us, and I took him to mean figuratively. I took it as a lesson in moral choices — choosing between good and evil. It wasn’t for another few weeks when the evil clawed its way out of all our sides that it occurred to me he may have meant it literally. It was my fault for not asking.

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At first, time means nothing to an immortal like me. It means everything as the years ceaselessly repeat. Loved ones die, which I tried once to fix through self-isolation. That was better but worse, and eventually I cracked, rejoining a society I no longer knew. Millenniums of advancement only meant confusion for me. I was out of place and tired of being alive. Only a sociopath could enjoy living forever.

At first, time means nothing to an immortal like me. It means everything as the years ceaselessly repeat. Loved ones die, which I tried once to fix through self-isolation. That was better but worse, and eventually I cracked, rejoining a society I no longer knew. Millenniums of advancement only meant confusion for me. I was out of place and tired of being alive. Only a sociopath could enjoy living forever.

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She invited him over with faint hopes of what he would do to her when he arrived. She had never been with an extraterrestrial before, and while she got ready, slipping on her sexiest little dress and knee-high boots, she allowed herself to daydream about what that “extra” in “extraterrestrial” really meant. Extra inches? Pounds? An extra “thing” entirely. Her imagination ran wild with the possibilities that “extra” could bring her. When she finally let him slide down the straps of her dress, she found out what exactly was extra about him. It was an extra sac of neurotoxic poison that released whenever he became the alien version of sexually aroused. And the mere sight of an undressed human very much sexually aroused him and also killed any and all humans within a 100 yard radius.

She invited him over with faint hopes of what he would do to her when he arrived. She had never been with an extraterrestrial before, and while she got ready, slipping on her sexiest little dress and knee-high boots, she allowed herself to daydream about what that “extra” in “extraterrestrial” really meant. Extra inches? Pounds? An extra “thing” entirely. Her imagination ran wild with the possibilities that “extra” could bring her. When she finally let him slide down the straps of her dress, she found out what exactly was extra about him. It was an extra sac of neurotoxic poison that released whenever he became the alien version of sexually aroused. And the mere sight of an undressed human very much sexually aroused him and also killed any and all humans within a 100 yard radius.

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Listen. I’m a normal guy, and I will not hurt you in any way. Just kidding. I always like to break the ice before I start one of my gruesome experiments. This will actually be the worst ten hours of your life.

Listen. I’m a normal guy, and I will not hurt you in any way. Just kidding. I always like to break the ice before I start one of my gruesome experiments. This will actually be the worst ten hours of your life.

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I brought an instrument of torture for you to use on me, and you brought an instrument for me to use on you. You brought a long, curving needle that would have been considered a hook if the curve wasn’t so slight and the point wasn’t so sharp. I brought my high school journal of angst riddled poetry and embarrassing secrets. I spent hours poking under your skin while you spent hours getting under mine.

I brought an instrument of torture for you to use on me, and you brought an instrument for me to use on you. You brought a long, curving needle that would have been considered a hook if the curve wasn’t so slight and the point wasn’t so sharp. I brought my high school journal of angst riddled poetry and embarrassing secrets. I spent hours poking under your skin while you spent hours getting under mine.

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Your cigarette hung casually out of the hole in your neck. You undressed, and I painted you while you told me how beautiful you used to be. You told me about the men who would try to fuck you. You told me about the men who did. You showed me a picture of how you used to look and asked me if I could make the painting look more like that. It was a really weird way to spend Mother’s Day.

Your cigarette hung casually out of the hole in your neck. You undressed, and I painted you while you told me how beautiful you used to be. You told me about the men who would try to fuck you. You told me about the men who did. You showed me a picture of how you used to look and asked me if I could make the painting look more like that. It was a really weird way to spend Mother’s Day.

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I drank in celebration the weekend you told me you were pregnant. We were alone at your parents’ freezing summer house, and I’ll never treat you as kindly again. Our private jubilation felt boundless. You drank the whole week after you lost it.

I drank in celebration the weekend you told me you were pregnant. We were alone at your parents’ freezing summer house, and I’ll never treat you as kindly again. Our private jubilation felt boundless. You drank the whole week after you lost it.

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I’ve owned this house without you. I’ve raised these kids without you. I got my job without you. I’ve learned to fuck without you. That last one was a lie, but I’m fine.

I’ve owned this house without you. I’ve raised these kids without you. I got my job without you. I’ve learned to fuck without you. That last one was a lie, but I’m fine.

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Love isn’t being on our best behaviors all the time or tip-toeing around each other. It isn’t pretending to be better than we are. Love is accepting the evil in the other. Love is overlooking our worst moments. Now grab that shovel and help me dig.

Love isn’t being on our best behaviors all the time or tip-toeing around each other. It isn’t pretending to be better than we are. Love is accepting the evil in the other. Love is overlooking our worst moments. Now grab that shovel and help me dig.

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I know it seems fucked up on paper, but there was nothing incestuous happening between us. In my book, she stopped being my sister the moment she died.

I know it seems fucked up on paper, but there was nothing incestuous happening between us. In my book, she stopped being my sister the moment she died.