I loved a monster

Busted lips, black eye, broken ribs, and seven stitches. I thought I was dead. It turns out I was still alive and "lucky" according to the detectives who came to take my statement. I was lucky because I was still alive. I was lucky because he did not finished his deed. I was lucky because I had not been raped.
I met the monster a while back. He was sweet. He was a gentleman. He was handsome. And he liked me. The plain girl who barely gets noticed anywhere was liked by the golden boy. He was young. He was well built. He was an attraction. He was my distraction.
He took me out on dates in fancy restaurants, bought me flowers and chocolate. He wooed me like no man has never wooed me before. I fell for him as fast as any sensed woman would fall for a man.  And I was happy. He made me so happy.
I could hear wedding bells. I already started "shopping" for my wedding dress. I was going to be his bride. I could tell. But something bothered me: in all the 9 months we dated, he never took me to his place. Every time I asked him about it, he joked around. He used to say that we needed to keep some things a mystery before getting married because if we divulge everything before hand, we would get bored of each other. I understood at first. However, as time passed, I started to worry. What was he hiding?
I started to think about the possibilities:
Was he already married?
That could not be. He spent so much time with me.
Was he a messy person?
Impossible! He always cleaned at my place.
Did he have a pet and could not tell me because he knew I had an aversion for animals?
No way! I would have smelled it on him. ( I am pretty good when it comes to smell: after all I make perfumes for a living)
What could be it? I did not know. But I could not wait to find out later. I knew he was going to propose any minute now. And before I said yes, I had to know what he was hiding from me. Asking him was not going to work. I had to act and act fast.
One day after he kissed me goodnight at my building's door, I gave him a 10 seconds head start and followed him. I walked as fast as I could at the same time trying not to bring attention to myself. I was so scared that he would turn and see me following him that I could hear my heart pounding out of my chest. But he never noticed me. He took the train for 25 minutes and got out at a different part of the city, a part I never visited. Then he walked for 10 minutes in dark alleys with stray cats and drunken homeless. I was scared to death but I had a mission. He finally went inside an old house with chipped paint and bolted doors. I went home after making sure that he was not going back out. As soon as I arrived home, I googled the place. I could not find much information about it but discovered that it had been on the market for ages before it was bought two years ago. The next day, as he spent time at my place, I took his keys out of his jacket and made molds out of soap. As soon as he left, I took the molds and ask my friendly key man to make me duplicates. I kept the duplicates somewhere safe in my room, somewhere I knew nobody would even look and waited for an opportunity.
A month later it came. He told me he had a business trip. I accompanied him to the airport and kissed him goodbye. I waited an hour to be sure his plane would not be delayed and rushed to his place with my set of duplicate keys. I tried several and the third one was a winner.  I was holding my breath as I entered the house. I was surprised to see a well furnished house with a great layout. It had a huge living room with windows facing the streets (if only they were open, the house would have been dancing in light), the kitchen was a delight with its white counters and black cabinets, and antique services. The upstairs had three rooms each with its own accent. The house looked shabby on the outside but the inside was pure decoration heaven. Nothing was from Ikea like at my place. I saw leathers couches in the living room, oak chairs and table in the dining room, and capony bed in the master bed room. All the windows had curtains with flower lace details on them. The back had a small garden with roses and a rusted swing. I felt like I went back in time in the house. I felt like I was in my childhood house.
I was careful not to disturb anything as I poke around. I checked everywhere for clues that could tell me my boyfriend did not want me to see this place. But I did not find anything at all. The more I poke, the more I was falling in love with him. His suits were well organized in his closets. His after shave stand next to his brush in the very clean bathroom. I even took a sniff at it and missed him terribly. His hobby magazines were lazily laying on his bedside table with his reading glasses. I took a dive in his bed and smelled him all over the sheets. I could not wait to be married to him and move to this place.
After cleaning up ever trace that I was even in this house, I started to leave. But a small door that I did not noticed when I arrived grabbed my attention. I wondered what it was. The layout from my google search did show that the house had a basement. The door was locked so I started to use my set of duplicate. The door finally gave in after my fourth try. As soon as I opened it, a strange smell overwhelmed me. I could not tell exactly what it was at first but as I took the stairs, it hit me: it was bleach. I was laughing that maybe he had to clean the mess he found here with bleach when he moved . Then I froze. Something was off. I look everywhere for a light and when I found it, I could not believe what I was seeing. In the center of the room, was a table made out of steel with cuffs dangling by its four sides. Above the table was a big blinding light. There was also a small stool with cutting tools. I was in a operating room like in the hospitals. All around the room were jars filled with sticky substances. I took one in my hand to try to identify the substance, as one nipple faced me. I jolted with horror and dropped the jar. I did expect it to break but it was still intact. I quickly put it back on it shelf. Terrified and disgusted, I started to check at all the jars. Some had locks of hair, some had teeth, some had toes. But all of them had body parts. I felt sick, and bolted out of there as fast as I could. As I was exiting the front door, I saw him there waiting for me. He looked at me with such anger and malice. He took a step forward grinning. I started running aiming for the back entrance. But he was faster. He grabbed me, and punched me in my face. My whole world went white and before I could get back from his blow, he pinned me down and kept pounding on me. The pain was unbearable and  made me weaker. I screamed but nothing came out of my mouth except blood. The only thought that crossed my mind was that I was going to die and end up in a jar. Then I remembered the keys I had in my hand. I took them and jam them as hard as I could at his side. He cried out like a hurt wolf and lost his balance. I jammed the keys a second time at him, and got up. I mastered the courage to run out of there without looking back. I run so fast I thought I had wings. At the subway station I hid in the toilets and called the police.
Two days later surrounded by my family in the hospital and the detectives from the police, I learnt that my perfect boyfriend, future husband material was a serial killer the police had been looking for years. He would abduct his victims outside shady bars, torture them for days all the while raping them, cut some part out before stabbing them to death. Then he would dump their freshly bleached body in dumpsters. The police was not even close to catch him when I gave them the call. They are still digging in his basement but all the jars they found, plus the assault on my person was enough to put him into death row. I was on a cloud when I was I hearing all of this and it was not due to the Vicodin I was receiving to calm the pain. The police called me a survivor, a hero for fighting him. I felt like I wanted to die. 
How could I ever date again? How could I ever fall in love again when the man I loved and trusted turned out to be me someone getting off on torturing and raping women. How could I have been so blind not to see that deep down he was a monster? What was I going to do now?