John, if that’s your real name, for now I’ll simply going to call you Ghost. I’m out at the farm waiting for you. - Sheila

The look on his face as he walked into the building and found me standing there was truly priceless. I'd caught him so off guard, he was speechless, “So, nothing to say Ghost?”

Infuriated, Sheila continued, “If it slipped your mind, let me refresh your memory. Her name was Liz, and if I’m right, the lingering blood stains on the floor are hers. You brutally murdered her in cold blood, you sadistic son of a bitch!”

Ghost looked at Sheila, his sudden anger causing the pulse to pound in his ears, “From your outrage, I’m assuming you found the web servers, the ones hidden in the basement of my house.”

“I think, since you asked me to move in, it’s our house. But yes, I found the server room, nice hardware setup by the way, but you really should have installed the last six months of security updates. Careless, but since I was already inside your firewall, it made it easy to hack into your system.”

Pausing Ghost considered, “Interesting, I did Liz back in September of last year. By the way, in the private files on the server, there’s also a video where Liz assured her husband, that he wouldn’t face murder charges in her disappearance. This may be hard for you to fathom but Liz wanted to die, killing her was the fulfillment of her ultimate fantasy.”

“And frankly, Sheila, you should have taken a closer look at the timestamps on my video files. The blood stain on the floor isn’t Lisa’s. I’d have to check, but there’s been at least three or four other women who’ve spilled their guts in this room since she did.”

“Oh, and if I might ask, how did you find this farm?”

“It was simple. It's the building. Did you know that after the end of World War Two, the military had so many of these Quonset huts stockpiled that they were practically giving them away? By the early fifties, there were one or two of these prefabricated buildings on almost every farm in Louisiana. The problem was they were never intended for long-term use, plus since they came unpainted, the heat and constant humidity caused most to simply rust away over the years. Today, there’re only eighteen of these left in the entire state. Did you also know that a few years back, the state planning commission created a searchable online database with the locations and descriptions of every building in the state? From there I went to Google earth and looked at each one’s satellite image. The first two were closer to your house but were obviously active dairy farms. This was the third one I looked at, and the thing of it was, that in that six month old satellite image, your black suburban was parked in the exact place out front, that it’s parked right now.”

A questioning look appeared on Sheila’s face, “Did you know, even with the black suburban parked outside the building, I almost passed on this being the place. I checked the tax records, the farmer sold this place to an LLC back in nineteen sixty-one, the same LLC is currently listed as the owner of this farm. The problem is you told me you’re forty-two, so how is it possible that you managed to buy this farm seventeen years before you were born?”

A faint smile appeared on Sheila’s face, as she continued, “Something about you simply doesn’t add up, you claim to be in your early forties, but you look younger, and frankly. Your stamina in bed is better than any of the jocks I dated in college. You rock my world practically every night, sometimes twice, not to mention the morning bondage sex on weekends and the occasional evening when you bent me over the dining room table for dessert. And all those football and basketball games we’ve watched together in your den, well you watched. I was naked on my knees with my wrists handcuffed behind my back, your cock buried balls deep in my throat for most of them.”

Unsure, Ghost respond, “So, how do you see this evening ending?”

I could see the look of determination in her eyes, “Well ‘Ghost'. I see this evening ending in one of four ways. First, I will not resist if you decide to lock my wrists in the restraints, but if we could skip all to torture and mutilation, you should just gut me. Second, we enjoy this delightful bottle of wine, then you lock my wrists in the restraints and gut me. Third, over a delightful bottle of wine, you tell me the truth, then locking my wrists in the restraints you still gut me. Or, the fourth option, we enjoy a delightful bottle of wine, you tell me everything, locking my wrists in the restraints, and after fucking me senseless, we move forward as a couple.”

Smiling behind his face concealing at the irony of the situation, he knew Sheila was wrong, there was a fifth alternative she hadn’t considered. The one where we enjoy a delightful bottle of wine, where I tell her everything, well mostly everything. Where I lock her wrists in the restraints and, after fucking her senseless, still brutally gut her. Then, after she’s dead, I put her remains in a refrigerated shipping container and take her to the Resort, where I’m eagerly looking forward to tomorrow night, after she’s finished her first regeneration, dinner at a first class Resort restaurant, and assuming she can move past her outrage and accepts, I already have the ring...