Work Text:
No one ever understood how it was for me. No one ever gave a shit about me or how it was for me. My mother may have been pretty enough for my father. For me, she will always be that dried up cunt who couldn't handle what I was. I hated her because she hated me. I understand why she did, even as a small child, I understood why. She made sure of that, that I always knew how much she despised me and why. That woman was a stringy old bird but by the Gods, she had strength. She would beat me until I was passed out, half dead. Then leave me there, a small defenseless boy that just wanted, needed someone to care. I would lay there until I woke up and dragged myself inside. Once or twice a neighbor would carry me and dump me at the emergency room. The services would visit and leave again. Mother would beat me harder. You see, don't you? You have to understand how it was for me.
Even when the services finally took me away, they didn't do it out of care or concern. The lady never even looked at me once, never even asked me questions. She read out loud several complaints from neighbors and police, it sounded like a grocery list. The bitch could have recited milk, butter, eggs and douche for all the emotion she had. I was taken away because I was becoming a nuisance to others. So my father dearest, daddy dearest was found and off I went. Problem solved so neatly. Just wrap one boy in a bow and send him off to a man he never met. A man that raped his mother one night in college. At least that was mother's story, though father never said any different. He was an even colder fish than my mother. His wife despised me and my step brother was already favored, beloved. Here came the embarrassment, a poor half life of a rich man who was long past those college days now.
Shipped off to boarding school and do you see how unfair it all was? Do you even have a slight idea what it must have been like to be me? The school was full of bullies, pedophiles and disinterested teachers. I had a few incidents, yes, I did. Should I have been bullied instead? Yes, even in grade school I had some issues with authority and children. Was I a bully? Yes, I was. Again, look at my life, I was really a victim crying out for help. The animals? True, I won't deny it. Dogs were my special animal, I had a good relationship with my dogs. So what if I trained them to kill? That doesn't mean they were abused. Of course they were thin, they were hunters. They had to stay hungry so they would be more fierce. Oh, the other animals? Squirrels, kittens, a few rabbits and some gerbils at school as well. I learned how to skin, how to understand anatomy from them. Scientists experiment on animals all the time, but I am the one you need to point at?
Well, holidays sucked if they let me come home for them. Everyone was cold to me, no one gave two shits about me. I got expensive tasteful gifts, Domeric got better ones, he also got hugs and smiles. No one has ever hugged me or smiled at me just because they wanted to. Because they ever cared or understood how it was with me. Not once. Domeric had to die, you see that, don't you? How it had to be? I hoped it would make my father notice me, need me. No, I told you already, my step mother died of grief, I had no hand in it. Not that I wasn't going to, but I didn't have to. After some time, father did bring me home to stay and he began to notice me. It was great at first, I thought. It wasn't though. Not at all. A fat burning prick up my ass when the mood took my dearest daddy. I was the only boy in seventh grade with tissues shoved up his ass. Sometimes I worried I might bleed or leak come right through my pants in class. Never mind boners that can creep up on you, try leaking your dad out your crack while changing in gym class. Do you understand yet? Do you see why these things happened now?
He liked to beat me, he taught me to hunt, to flay. Remember when I was able to name every single whore he killed? Remember when you dug them up, how helpful I was? It was nice to lift my guilt over those poor hookers he hunted down. Yes, I did help with many of them, but it was the only way to bond with my father. What else could I do? Problem was, it was never good enough for him. Just like my fucking mother, I was never enough. He called me a butcher, called me sloppy with my work. I had no attention to detail, yeah, more like I wasn't OCD like him. I was just as good as he was, miserable prick. I hope he finds out I said that about him. Someone in his cell will hopefully tell him I said I was JUST AS GOOD! Sorry, sorry, I am calmer now. Just let me have a second and a sip of water. As I was saying, it was years and years of abuse from my parents and...what?
Oh..that. Okay, Jeyne Poole was a really nice girl and I did have every intention of marrying her. Another person who couldn't understand how things needed to be with me. I told her she would be my society wife, a pretty upper class girl that was hand picked for me. You know the funny thing, I actually thought at first she was too timid for me. Always jumping and very clumsy, always injuring herself in such amusing ways. Did I help with that, well, yes, but she knew I was a big prankster. When Jeyne found out I was fucking Myranda, who understood her role of mistress quite well, there was some trouble. I really had to convince Jeyne not to break off our engagement and yes, I used a little force. I tried everything to repair our relationship, you can surely see that! Even when I took her with me to break it off permanently with Myranda, that only seemed to make it worse between us. Yes, by permanent I mean I hunted and flayed my mistress to death. No, it wasn't me forcing Jeyne to watch this, I was proving my sincerity to her.
When Jeyne threatened to report me, I had no choice, can't you understand that? It was with deep regret that I snapped her neck. I was fast and merciful though. No, I didn't rape or skin her until after she was dead, I am not a savage! So I keep trophies of my kills, it is my way of remembering them, harmless really. How many others? Lets see...Kyra, Marcella, Shireen, Violet, I really don't remember all of them, no. I already told you, I won't talk about him if you use that name. I hate that fucking name. Reek is what he knows, what he answers to. He still waits for me, doesn't he? He isn't insane, he is trained! Not brainwashed, given a new goal, recreated, just for me. Don't you see, it was a mercy. He hated his name, his life, he asked me to take him in. He said he loved me and he could have left anytime, you know. He chose to stay with me. Even after I stopped taking fingers and toes, when I no longer flayed him, he stayed. Because he was my Reek, my pet, my creature. He wants to hug me and love me. If he cries and screams in that institution you locked him in, it is because he misses his Master!
You are cruel, Your Honor. Think of what I have told you of my past, cannot you see what I was made into? I made my pet into something so much better. Even those girls were recreated by me. I am an artist, a scientist in my own way. Think of what you are doing to poor Reek. If I am given the death penalty, what shall happen to my poor little pet? He will always long for me, always love me and miss me till he dies. Maybe he will kill himself to follow his Master faithfully. I hope he does, Your Honor, then the blood will be on your hands. See how you like being the one blamed for things you had no real control over. I am a monster, true. I accept that. But who and what made me into a monster? You don't care though, do you? No one ever did till my pet. Now he has been ripped away as well. Fine, kill me then. Reek can meet me in hell, we'll save you a seat down there, okay? Fucking cunt licking bastard! DON'T TOUCH ME, YOU FUCKERS! GIVE ME BACK MY REEK! GIVE ME BACK MY LIFE!! HOW CAN YOU NOT UNDERSTAND IT WAS NEVER MY CHOICE! I HAD TO BE THIS WAY, IT ALWAYS WAS GOING TO HAPPEN ANYWAY! LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LET ME JUST EXPLAIN AGAIN!