I smile as I hear the ruling.

"Not guilty!" The many members of law enforcement stare at me, their eyes like daggers, shocked voices spreading out. I don't care though, all that matters is that I won the case and my client goes free, its their fault foe not having a good enough case against him. 

As I walk out with my client he smiles at me.

"Come celebrate with me! I want to thank you for proving my innocence." I think for a few seconds, why not, I should celebrate, I did win a career making case after all, plus he always seemed like a nice guy.

"Sure, let's celebrate." 

I slowly wake, my head feeling foggy, what happened last night? I feel a cold breeze flow over my body. Am I naked? I slowly open my eyes, my eyelids heavy and unwilling to open. I look around the dark room, seeing the bare walls of a long abandoned factory, rusting metal and hanging chains create a creepy atmosphere. Where am I? My eye fixes on a dusty table as I catch the shiny blade, next to various other terrorising items, long needles, pins, nipple clamps, a whip, soldering iron, a cattleprod, and other items. 

I try to move only to immediately feel the resistance of firm metal pinning me in place to the frame I'm laying on. As I look to see the thick, heavy, shackles holding me in place I also see my naked body and I begin to fully wake up in fear and panic. What is going on? 

I try to call out for help but my cries are muffled and silenced by what feels like a large ballgag filling my mouth. I pull on my restraints desperately trying to get free, something about this whole situation feels horrifyingly familiar to me. 

I freeze as I see my client calmly walk into view, his face almost unrecognisable as he looks at me, a sadistic hunger in his eyes as he smiles down at me. I flinch as his hand gently caresses my bound body. 

"Thankyou so much for proving my innocence, hopefully the police will waste time looking elsewhere while we have some fun celebrating." I stare horrified as he lowers his head down to my ear.

"The truth is, I did all of those and more. I kidnapped all those people, I fucked and tortured them for days, they begged for me to end their suffering, I did everything you saw in the crime scene photos, cut them, whipped them, burnt them, electrocuted them, amputated body parts, pulled out their teeth, everything, and I made sure they were conscious for it all." My heart races in fear and dread, the horrible images of the tortured victims, their broken bodies and gapping holes flash into my mind. That will also be me? 

"Don't worry though, I plan on taking my time with you, we will have so much time to celebrate, all thanks to your hard work, I think we can spend months together." I frantically pull on my shackles and cry out for help. Hopefully the police will piece everything together once I'm declared as missing and rescue me. 

My eyes widen as he begins to remove his clothes, his hard cock on full display, as he picks up a knife and walks towards me with a look of pure evil. 

My screams echo through the abandoned building as he begins to play with me, his cock ramming uncaringky into my ass as he cuts into me with the blade, an insane smile on his face as he enjoys playing with me. 

I look at the missing persons report, the bastard lawyer who got that psycho off has gone missing. We all know what happened, it’s not hard to piece it together, especially as they were both last seen together. I smile slightly, he had it coming. I drop the file in the bin, accidentally misfiling it. He can enjoy his victory, no need to rush to solve it or waste our time on an unimportant case. 

Epilogue:

I slowly move through the empty house, home of the long suspected serial killer, one who brutally tortured his victims, one who vanished after he was proven innocent and the lawyer who prevented him from going to prison also disappeared under mysterious circumstances, even stranger as their missing persons report was initially lost, preventing anyone from ever finding them. 

But now he is has recently died and a friend of mine high up in the police department has allowed me to look around for my true crime podcast. Honestly so far this has been a complete disappointment, his home looks completely normal, not that of some horrifying monster. 

I stop as I suddenly hear a quiet moaning noise. Even my mind is making up sounds to entertain me, making me wonder if he never actually stopped. If he didn't though I'd love to learn his methods, I've always been fascinated by those like him, not just how but why, their twisted minds feeling somewhat familiar to my own, you could even call me a fan, learning everything I can about them and how they evaded capture for so long, although for me this one was the one I was the biggest fan of, especially after he escaped prison, the discussions and speculation over that were amazing, some even think that he and the lawyer were working together. I move on as I don't hear the noise again, the sound likely my mind playing tricks on me. 

As I walk disappointingly down the hallway, part of me wonders if there is anything of interest here. I stop as I hear the faint moan again and turn to a door. My curiosity peaked I slowly open the door, my heart beating faster as I do, drawn to the only thing of interest in the whole house, the truth hidden behind the illusion of normality. I look down the dark basement and turn on the light of my camera and make my way cautiously down the old and creaking stairs. 

Reaching the bott9m my torch illuminates the darkness, shining on a camera and other recording equipment, several monitors, rows of torture devices hanging along the wall and tables lined with surgical tools. I stop moving my light as it falls onto something, for a moment I fail to recognise what it is, their body so unrecognisable, only realising and understanding when it moves slightly and lets out a slight moan. Could it be? His final victim? 

I examine the starved and bony body, or what remains of it, his limbs long removed, only a head and body remain. What is left of him is covered in scars and marks from whips, blades and burns, his toothless mouth opening as he moans once again, the small stump above his large, swollen, scarred and damaged balls twitching in futile and desperate need. As I continue to examine him I notice that he is completely unaware of my presence, not seeming to see or hear me, only laying helplessly, waiting to be tortured or used, his well stretched ass showing that he got plenty of attention. Is this really him? The lawyer? Somehow still alive after all these years, decades spent with his last client. I'm glad that I'm alone as my cock begins to grow hard as I think about everything that was probably done to him, the horrors he must have gone through. I reach down and playfully rub my crotch as it strains, I've long grown to accept that I enjoy this sort of thing, not even bothered by the fact that the person in front of me is more than just images but the real thing. 

I turn and look back at the monitors and cameras, maybe I don't have to imagine. I move over to the recording equipment and turn it all on, not even password protected, I guess once people see everything else down here there really isn't any point, finding a wealth of video footage, showing everything that had been done from the moment of his capture. I eagerly begin to watch the man I'd followed for years play with the lawyer who made sure he remained free, his victim screaming in fear and pain, but slowly beginning to moan, his begging for freedom breaking, becoming the pleading of a painslut, craving his masters attention as the years of isolation go on, his agonised mind going insane, becoming addicted to the pain. 

I turn from the monitors and look at the pathetic living toy, one moaning, desperately calling out, not for help, not to be saved or rescued, any hope of such a thing was long gone, possibly now even feared, but to be used and abused. 

I feel my cock straining against my trousers and smile sadisticly as I get up, picking up a taser from one of the tables, playfully testing it, causing small sparks as I make my way towards him, to continue the work of his former master. I think I'll leave here with a souvenir, I doubt anyone will mind or even miss him.