Wednesday, March 28, 2012

The Prey: part I. Real and the Raw.

The Prey: The Real and Raw. Part I.

These are the stories of The Prey. The victims stories, in their own words, unedited (except for names and locations that take part in their stories). The real and raw. These stories came to me via emails, and with their permissions and requests to post them, I have done so objectively.

Is one persons story better than another’s? Not in my opinion. I believe these stories came from the truths of their authors, written in their own forms and styles.

These are the stories of the scarred, sliced, mentally ruined, the learned and the vengeful. They will never look at love the same way again, and for that, most seemed grateful. These stories will be posted in several parts as I can only do so much with the time I have.

To date: I have received well over 200 emails from The Prey. Over time, I wish to post all of them. Those authors out there took the time to write them and share aspects of their lives with me, I cannot thank them enough. It is their wish to have them read by those that visit the BLOG.

I give them credit for coming forth and sharing the worst parts of their lives. Their hopes, that others may learn from their mistakes from either quick love and total lust.

I so humbly am thankful, to you, The Prey!

a good link, given to me by Suzanne from Dutch Harbour AK.
play this link as you read. Thanks for proofing this, Suzanne.

-Mark William Darus


Patrick’s Story.

I believed in you, you fucking cunt.

So you came into my life, like fresh air in a moldy basement. I was so easily willing to believe anything you would say to me. So beguiled by your smile, the sway of your hips, the way your long dark hair cascaded over your shoulders covering your breasts. Never once did I meet your eyes, and for that I damn myself.

Maybe I would’ve seen what my friends and family did as they told me to bolt away from you. But I was trapped by your words, your confidence, your beauty. Your willingness to bed me. To take me into your mouth and to have me sucked dry.

I lost myself with you. I screwed my family over to be by your side. I fucked over my friends to be with you.. I lost my kids, my life my soul. The cunt that is you and my lack of control. Guess I met you halfway

I gave you most of my life’s savings for a body I should’ve spent 20 bucks on for a crackwhore.

Looking back, after years of therapy, I met you halfway. You preyed on me and I gave myself to you. I must face myself and the things I did.

To think I put a bullet in my head to end myself. For you?

I survived as sometimes god favors the stupid.

I hope you rot in hell.



Alyona’s story. (Ukraine)

I am so worthless. I need you back again.

I would have given anything for you. Do you know that?

I spilled my soul to you, told you my deepest desires. My dreams. I gave you all that I had.

You sucked me in with your eyes, never leaving mine. Your kiss, so soft and passionate, yet fiery that I felt you suck my face into yours.

I so freely gave you my pussy and took you into me. Letting you blast into me.

A thousand douches later, I still feel you there. Your warmth, your wet, you. I so long to be with you again if for no other reason to feel desired again.

I’d rather have your illusion than the truth of my being fat and unwanted by most…



David’s Theme: The Fix.

You came into my life like a freight train, strong and unyielding. You so seemed on the same track as I, and we quickly grew on each other like vines wrapping around a tree. After a very short time I could not imagine a sunrise or sunset without you by my side. I so remember your dark hair and clear, bright blue eyes and a body to die for. I felt so good around you as you read my every thought. When I stumbled for words, you could always tell me what I couldn’t seem to put into words, completing me.

… a body to die for…

A body to kill for.

In no time at all I so freely blew off all my friends, family and work. So scared was I to lose your love that I gave myself to you. Wanting you as a junkie needs a ‘fix’, and like a junkie, needing the ‘fix’ more and more all the time. You completed me to the point that my mind was in yours. A mind-meld of the damned.

Sex with you was more than sex itself. You took it to levels I’d never known could possibly be. Eyes and bodies locked, fixed on each others, moving to rhythms only you and I could hear.

In public places, mens heads would turn to see you. It was as if they could sense a woman so totally different than anything they’d known. I always caught their looks or nods which in my mind said this: You lucky son of a bitch. You took beauty and grace and walked with such confidence, who wouldn’t be jealous of me being by your side?

I cosigned on a car for you, as your credit had been destroyed by past boyfriends that used you. So quietly you asked me not to do this, but I did it anyway. My parents had raised me to help those we love. They taught me to do the right things and to help without being asked.

I opened credit card accounts with you. I paid your past utility bills.

Then we ran into your ex-boyfriend at *** **** **** bar and grill.

He came at you with such anger. He screamed and yelled, calling every name in the book.

I stepped between you and him and he called me a dumbfuck.

I told him to stop bothering you and he said what are you going to do about it?

He shoved me to side.

Rage, fire engine red, filled me with insanity.

I picked up a chair and brought in down on his head. I had cracked his skull wide open. The police arrested me soon after.

You were gone.

Witnesses said I was assaulted first. The police said I used excessive force and I spent a weekend in jail til my family bailed me.

When the trial came, I was sentenced to 1 year probation and biweekly counseling sessions.

Through those sessions I found out that I had become a tasty snack for a hungry lion. I had been toyed with, tasted tested and finally eaten.

My counseling went on for just over two years.

I’m still paying off a car I’ll never drive and paying credit cards I never used.

I also have a Police record that will haunt me.

I learned from this and it cost me more than I ever knew possible.

I will never make the same mistake again.

<this was written for a project my counselor gave me to do. She told me that sometimes we only learn when we take the time and put things into the written word. And read it: over and over and over again. Thank you, Marylyn ******* LISW>

Thanks, Mark. Your blog has given me a chance to maybe do something beyond myself. It is my sincere hope that people learn from this. Even with my background, I do not hate women. I am, however, a hell of lot more cautious with all beginnings and middles.

David (Indiana)




Now Master: Fuck men!

If I were to see you again, I would so willingly drop to my knees , unzip your fly, and take you in my mouth. You would make the noises I so remember well. You’d go into that place I had taken you many times in our brief past, that stupid, near cumming expression on your face.

And I would cut your Achilles tendons with the blade I have named after you.

You’d flop around on the floor like a soon dead fish, and I would take slices on you, out of you. A cut to that back of the head, the inner thigh, wherever you gave me the chance to do so.

You would suffer so. I would laugh harder with each cry and look of pain from you. I will see you to it that yours arms could not lash out at me with a solid shot to the spine. You will be motionless at that point, but quite alive. Though paralyzed, you may not feel any longer, but you will see what you have made me.

Ever heard of Phantom Pain, asshole? We’ll find out, you and I, if there really is such a thing. I so hope there is, and you being its sole benefactor.

Whiter and whiter you grow as your flesh loses the color of the living. Gasp after gasp as you get closer to dying. Oh, how your eyes would look so intense, so angry and so frightened.

I would then remove your pants and cut your balls off. If given the chance before you go the hell, I would feed them to you.

The hunted becomes the hunter. If I have any air in me at all, I will see to it you never maim another women like you did me.

Who’s the Master now, fucker? Who’s the Master?!!!!

-Now Master.

I will never trust another man again.

<<<<Thanks for giving me the chance to vent, Man. Your blog and the internet keep me well hidden. More importantly, waiting for my chance with him.>>>>



Katie’s Prayer:

Oh Lord, you have given me life after devastation. You repaired me, made me whole again after falling into crack and heroin. You pulled me from the hell of whoring myself out to please the one who ate me. He had me turn my back against you, sweet Jesus. I did all I could to please him and totally forgot about my savior who had only given me love and peace. I did this for a false love, For the lust of the flesh. To the Devil I gave myself and I did burn.

You doused me with your forgiving rain eternal. Baptized me with the love that is you. Loving me unconditionally, closing your gentle arms around me. Comfort forever.

Forgive us our trespasses and those that trespassed against us.


Katie from Houston.





Eddies Comatose Dream………..

In the night, when I slept I dreamt of you. The dreams were the same every night, us meeting on a foggy night. You wore a slinky blue dress with nothing under it. Nipples standing out like the Goosebumps they gave me. The moon rode high as did my dick. That blond hair I’d run my fingers through every fucking nite. I’d give you money, pay your bills, give you job leads. The moon shone so bright.

All you asked of me was my time and attention. Such a small price to pay.

This dream happened every night for months.

When I woke up in an ER after an accidental overdose of acid, my family looking scared shitless at me.

I told them with more detail than I have written here about my beautiful dream.

Would you believe they tried telling me it was no dream? That I left them and my friends in the dust to go after such a deader? I had to laugh at them. I could never do such a stupid thing. I am not a stupid fucking idiot. I could never fall for such a bullshit artist that was her.

Sorry, not me.

Eddie, Wilmington NC.

Hey, man. Post this is you wanna. Sorry, bro, that wasn’t me……..






Stephanie the Donut Bitch:

All I can says is this. Yous left me’s wit da twinz 2 weekes afta they was borns. Yous blows south and lefts us north, nigga! Jesus helps me’s wit dem nows. I hopes god gives yous nazt aids, fucka! Hopes yur balls flls off.

Sissta’s donts youns fall 4 da playyas.

Stephanie the Donut Bitch of NYC



Carrie (wild eyed and dumb)

You had such a nice car. You had money. You bought me things. Gave flowers and Whitman’s chocolates for no reason. You helped me when you could. You knew my situation after a recent divorce was not as good as yours.

You did this shit for about a month and by that time, you had me suckered lock, stock and barrel.

Then you came on to hard times, a plant closing that got a lot of attention in the news. I let you move in with me as I felt a strong love for you. You loved my body like no man ever did. You made me feel like Prom Queen every night.

When money got tight, and was a snag with your unemployment, you gave me a great idea. ‘Put that body to good use, baby. Be a dancer and the messed up drunks will give you all kinds of money just by shaking what you got. It’s not like they’re gonna touch you or anything. Bouncers will get them real quick if they do. Not like you’d be a whore or anything.

Never once did I think about my two daughters and what may happen when I ran into these ‘messed up drunks’ in a shopping mall. How fucked up is that?

And I gave you all my tip money to hold for me as you knew I had a problem with saving money. You even opened a savings account to hold it ‘for us’.

I was getting about 200 a night dancing. I still paid my bills with my real job and fed you throughout your hard times. You’d ask me for a twenty and hours later you’d suggest taking the kids for ice cream at ***** ****’s. You even paid for it.

How dumb was I? Not like I wasn’t educated as I had a college degree in teaching Art. When the school systems started crashing everywhere, I couldn’t get a position in teaching so I took a job an ******** ********* card shop at the mall. Honest living.

After six months you told me you could no longer handle the kids. You left me a letter while I was away at work. I was so upset by your leaving that I didn’t even think of the obvious. That is, until one of the bouncers said: “look at the Brightside, Carrie! Look at the money you’ve made in the last six months!”

Then it hit me.

I so wanted to die at that point. I began to cry. I cried for my daughters, I cried for my stupidity. I cried and could not stop.

Being educated, I went to the police and reported him. They basically told me that because I gave him the cash and he had put it in his account there really wasn’t much they could do. Sure, they could report him to the IRS, but chances were he was well below the radar. One rookie prick even quipped, what’s it like having a pimp? I slapped him across the face for his comment and his senior partner apologized to me and hauled his ass away.

I got so used and I made it happen.

Think about this: 200 a night, times four nights a week for six months! Just over twenty grand right into his pocket. That was how he shower the ones he chose with forget-me-not gifts and such things that made him look like he really had money.

I learned from this,

I danced 5 nights a week for two years after that. Made a ton of money and made a good life for my daughters and me.

This ended when I ran into a regular at the mall and he hit on me. In front of my kids he told me about the way I moved on the floor drove him nuts…

Learn from this. If I being a grad could fall for such bullshit, anyone could.

Carrie. Enid Oklahoma

{thanks, MWD. If felt good putting it to you. Post away, brother. I found your blog when I visited some online discount pharmaceutical company. Funny how we meet in the realm of the faceless, and sometimes, not thoughtless.)




NOTE from Mark:

This is merely the beginning of a long journey into the lives of those, that with love, hopes and good intentions, strolled into the beams of a slow moving train. Like deer, they were both hypnotized and captured by something so strong and bright that they felt compelled to venture toward it.

The more of these stories I read I am further propelled to continue into this dark realm of human

relationships. The area where so many forget themselves, all those around them, and develop such pin-sized tunnel vision where all they can see is the beguiling, charming and energetic Predator they met halfway.

Sure, there must be some sick fascination on my part to delve into such an area of human anguish and exploitation. Perhaps there is; those thoughts and ideas I leave to you, dear reader. Do not be afraid to approach me with them though. If it is one thing I can accept and respect, it is straight forward questions regardless of how off-base you may catch me. I will answer your questions with I believe to be the truth as I know it.

As you course your way through the muddy, murky landscapes of the minds of others, keep this single truth known: With psychology, there are no FACTS. Psychology, though grounded in the scientific method, carries with it no absolutes. What grounded facts are there that pertain to every aspect of the human condition and can be proven time and time again? None that I am aware of nor have read about.

Frankly, I love psychology. People encountered are pathways to greater learning and growth. Like precious sea shells, people, no two are the same.

There is nothing more complex than that of the human mind. People, though seemingly very predictable, can quite often exhibit actions that go beyond what their best friends would have believed possible. We’ve all had people in our lives that ‘threw us for a lurch’ with some said thought or movement making us wonder: Do I really know them at all?

There are some that work/study in chemistry, computer science or even medicine that can deal with the complete facts and precision of a mathematician. Cut here and remove the cancerous growth, this chemical mixed with just 2 ml’s per quarter squared will make this reaction, or perhaps a more base level approach, put the flathead screw driving into the ignition and this car is mine.

Psychology does not work in the same places as traditional sciences. To put it simply, a car hit’s a brick wall at seventy miles an hour. An exact same model and year vehicle hit’s the same wall at the same rate of speed and velocity. High speed cameras record the same event that almost always mirror one another with complete repetition.

Physical science versus the science of the mind: no comparison. We might as well try to find similarities between the Columbine killers and the Twin Towers blow ups as they’d compare to the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, not to mention Dresden and Shermans scorched earth policy of the south. History dispends solely on who wins and under what circumstances they did what they did to attain it.

Compare Psychopathic natures from Andersonville in the south to Camp Douglas (Chicago) in the north.

Did you catch that? Think about it and give me your critiques via email.

Sure, we can all make rationalizations for those events. Depending on your side of the bombings, you might actually hit a point with some. But not all.

And that is my point.

Some days you get the bear.

Some days the bear gets you.

-Mark William Darus…