My Anti-Fan-Fiction of Fifty Shades of Grey: When Christian killed Ana

Out on August 15, 2012

SAVE THE LIFE OF A YOUNG WOMAN - Link this post to any place young women go on the Internet who think Fifty Shades of Grey is a romance, that the exact type of guy we warn young women to run from is somehow now cool, exciting, and will change if you just love and understand him. The kind of man Christian Grey is, a serial sex predator, will get you abused, stalked, and killed. Women every day are filing restraining orders against this kind of controlling obsessive sadistic psychopath and a good many of them find themselves with gas thrown at them and set on fire, disappearing down mine shafts, and shot dead on the courthouse steps. Fifty Shades of Grey is one of the most dangerous pieces of fiction to get into the hands of young women that I have even seen. Make sure they read the story below to get the real ending of Fifty Shades of Grey which would never have made it to a trilogy if it were anywhere close to the truth. - Criminal Profiler Pat Brown

When Christian Killed Ana

Christian gazes down at me from above, my hands tied behind my head to the bed rail with that grey tie of his, my ankles bound with rope to the side rails at the foot. His expression is unreadable but as my eyes shift from his face to his chest and then to those jeans of his hanging deliciously off his hips, my inner goddess jumps for joy; heat rushes down there and I squirm desperately as I wait for Christian to touch me. Oh, shit, he is so hot.

He runs his hands through that slightly tousled hair of his.

"I'm bored with you, Ana," he says quietly.

I am stunned. How can he be bored with me? I have done everything he wanted, minus a few items I put a line through on the contract.

"But we have only been together a couple of months, Sir!" I had thought I was different then the train of other women he had been through. "I thought I was special."

Christian actually laughs. "Special? What would you think I would find so special about you?" He admonishes me. "You are a mildly attractive run-of-the-mill college girl with nothing particularly alluring or interesting about you."

Tears flood my eyes. "But, Sir, you said I was special, different, that you had never had vanilla sex or slept the night with anyone but me!"

"And you believed me, you little fool." He smirks. "Why don't you bite your lower lip again? You really think that drives me mad for you, don't you? It doesn't do anything but make me hate you." He reaches out out with both hands and grabs my nipples, twisting them cruelly. I yelp with pain.

Christian looks at me with disdain. "You don't think I have told each one of my girls how adorable they are? Don't you realize I told every one the same stupid things that I told you? You are all so easy to dupe." He sighs. "All of you who think you are going to be the one. You are going to change me. From what? From myself? I like myself just the way I am." He leans in and snickers. "Do you know, my dear Anastasia, that I was never abused as a child? Not once. But, oh, how easy it was to make you feel so sorry for me."

My inner goddess curls up into a ball. I feel sweat break out on my forehead. Panic starts rising in my chest. I look into the eyes of Christian Grey and see nothing there at all, nothing. Everything I thought he might have been has vanished and I realize I have been living in a dream. Reality hits. I am tied up, hand and foot, alone with a sadistic psychopath, a snake, a demon.

Christian's face appears inches away from mine behind my wall of tears. "You know all those things that weren't in the contract? Well, today you get to do them all." He smiles, so coldly, so evilly. "I am going to use you as my toilet, I am going to put my fist up your ass, I am going to whip you until your body is covered with marks and listen to you scream until you have no voice left to scream with."

He leers at me and suddenly he is holding a razor sharp knife against my cheek. I feel searing pain and he pulls the blade back, red with my blood, oh god, my blood, my blood, and he licks it off with that tongue that I used to adore.

"I am going to cut that annoying bottom lip off of you."

I start screaming uncontrollably and the hell begins. I am just a young girl and I thought I had my whole life ahead of me. I now know that I have never known true love nor had anyone actually make love to me.Why I ever thought I should be treated in such a demeaning and ugly manner, I do not know. All I know is that now I have no choice; then I did. I should have run; I should never have trusted a stranger, a stalker, a sadist who told me he was so taken by me that he would never hurt me. How stupid I was.

I will not tell you each and everything that happened that day, the hours of terror, the hours of humiliation, the hours of unending pain. I will just tell you what I see from above my body, well, above the pieces of my body. My bottom lip that I always bit, he cut that off first. It was then I knew for sure I was going to die. Next he removed my breasts and then he put them to his chest and danced around with them while I gazed down at the gaping holes on my own body. I cannot go on and tell you what he did next, but when I felt the knife cut through my throat, I wished I had valued myself a whole lot more than I did the day I met that psycho Christian Grey.

He is now placing my legs and arms in a suitcase. What is left of my body, a torso is what I believe they call it, is lying in the center of the bed. I am not tied up anymore, I note ironically. My head, yes, that is my head with the bottom lip missing and the eyes gone from their sockets, it is laying where it was tossed, in the corner of the room, like an old soccer ball with some of the air missing from it.

Christian finishes packing up my parts and he takes them from the room. I see him drive off in his car, and when he returns a bit later, he showers and dresses, immaculately as always. He leaves again in his fine automobile and I follow him down the street. He pulls into an upscale pub and glides over to the marble bar. He seats himself next to a pretty blonde, college age. She turns her head and I can see she is immediately attracted to him.

"I'm Christian," he says softly and he takes her hand. She does not pull it back. I cannot watch any more.

Criminal Profiler Pat Brown

June 16, 2012

Pat Brown’s ONLY THE TRUTH

Harkening back to the writing styles of the earlier American authors – John Steinbeck, Harper Lee, and Carson McCullers, "Only the Truth" is a story of soul searching, a psychological mystery which examines the question, “Whom should one love and when should one quit doing so?” Billy Ray, a lonely and rather slow, uneducated African-American man living in the mountains of Arkansas, runs across a mysterious young woman at the railroad tracks. She asks to go home with him and Billy Ray takes her with him as she requests. He comes to love this woman, Charlene, unconditionally. She is the only woman he has ever loved, and life is finally good for Billy Ray. Then Charlene shoots the neighbor and burns down the neighbor’s house. His happy life destroyed, a confused and devastated Billy Ray is at a loss. Is the woman he loves “just a troubled girl” or a psychopathic killer? Billy Ray sets out on a quest to find the truth, only the truth, whether it leads him to be able to save Charlene from a death sentence or it frees him from her spell.

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