[ WP ] Make me side with a serial killer from the perspective of one of his victims .

She killed me. She held me down and allowed me to be raped. She sliced my throat all while crying and saying, `` I'm sorry...'' over and over again. 
 
 There was no emotion in her eyes when she did it. But I can tell that there was emotion involved in her actions. 
 
 I was kept prisoner in her husband's basement for two weeks while they tortured and raped me over.. and over.. and over.. Her husband was a very large man. At least 6 and a half feet tall, he had a muscular-ish build although he did have some fat on him. His brown hair was longer in some spots than in other which I thought was strange but it did n't make him any less menacing when I first saw him. 
 
 When did I first see him again? I ca n't really remember... he was just a regular customer at the grocery store I worked at. I ca n't pinpoint the first time I saw him. I just remember him being there at least once a week and he'd buy the same thing. 
 
 3 bags of dog food. 
 
 Every time. And he always came to *my* cash register. Even though there were several others open, usually with smaller lines than mine he always chose to come to mine. I thought it was a little weird. Maybe he was just a creepy man who liked talking to me. 
 
 I always thought it was n't very nice of him to do to his wife who he sometimes brought with him. I always assumed that he was abusive. She was very quiet and almost never spoke to me. 
 
 I'll never forget the last time we met at the grocery store. She looked at me in the eyes as they walked away from my register and mouthed the words, `` Run.'' I thought it was strange but I did n't think anything of it. 
 
 
 That was the last day I'd ever be at work. 
 
 When I was on my way to my car that night I was taken by him. 
 
 I do n't know if I hate her or if I feel bad for her but I do know that she will get the brunt of the force of law enforcement once they get caught. 
 
 The terror in her eyes whenever he tells her to do something. I saw him smack her in the face for not being quick enough to get him a drink of water. 
 
 I was n't their first victim. I am one hundred and ten percent sure of this. The way she did things to me was as if it had been rehearsed a thousand times before. Every time she'd whip me. Every time she'd hold me down. She'd mouth or say softly, `` I'm sorry.'' 
 
 I'm sure those words had no meaning to her. She'd said them enough times to me during my stay at their house that they'd lost meaning to me. `` Sorry'' no longer meant that a person was regretting doing what they did. It meant that bad things were about to happen to me. 
 
 She would stick needles in me. She would pour boiling hot water on me. She would violate me with a large dildo while her husband would watch on from a few feet away masturbating. 
 
 She never shed a single tear when she was around me. I could tell she had no more tears left to shed. Every time she'd hesitate to do something to me that her husband would tell her to do he'd threaten to slit her throat. He was serious about it. She knew it. I knew it. He knew it. He did n't care about her. He just wanted her to do whatever he said. She was his slave. 
 
 When the order finally came from him for her to dispose of me... I did n't panic. It was finally over. I did n't have to deal with the unspeakable things done to me. I've shared a few of those things done to me, but there were many more not mentioned. Ones I would n't want to describe. 
 
 As she loomed over me with her knife her formerly emotionless eyes showed a little bit of sadness. She knew that another one was going and soon they'd have to abduct another. He'd gotten sick of me. 
 
 That look of emotion was gone when she stooped down to begin sawing my neck with her dull steak knife. 
 
 The last thing I remember seeing was his eyes, gazing at me with glee in them. 
 
 Sometimes I wonder who was the real victim. 
 
 Me.. or her? 

