The One

She was The One
This time he was sure
Many times before he had thought he found The One
He had been wrong

They started well
Usually
The intimate whispers
The moans
The irons, red hot
Fileting knives
The begging
Fish hooks in tender flesh
The crack of the whip
The screams

Never lasted
Were never enough
Unsatisfying, disappointing
This time, though, he was sure

So he took her to his Secret Place
His Place of his Pleasure

And when she rose up
Snapped the chains
When he saw her long fangs
As she sank them into his throat
He whispered, "You are The One."