"You’ve already killed me. It’s only fair that I get to kill you now."
And with a deafening scream, she pulled the trigger. Those were the last words he ever heard.
They were happily married. At least they thought they were, or would be. Who doesn’t? But their story was no different. Filled with emptiness and despair, their lives were no longer on the same page. Growing apart every single day, they had become one of those couples that waited for the magic to reappear someday. To feel the same way they felt when they were madly in love. But they never did.
Her screams and cries for help fell on deaf ears, night after night. Her ‘Prince Charming’ no longer swept her off her feet, except when he flung her across the room. Occasionally. The routine was almost always the same- brutally beating her up while entering her, and while he went in and out, she fell in and out of consciousness. She never understood why he punished her like this. Or did he think she enjoyed it?
Day after day, his fetish grew. On some days it would be a whip, while on some his fist was enough. She thought she married a man to whom she would bare her soul. Apparently, bare skin he enjoyed more.
Kids were out of the question, he wouldn’t hear of it. Unnecessary obstacles, he would call them. But he enjoyed the company of his friends. Especially when they cheered on as they watched him at his sport. His ego would touch the roof; he was the tough guy, after all. “This is how you tame ‘em” he’d say.
She prayed and she prayed, to the God she was taught to believe in. But he seemed pretty busy. Her faith was now bleak, and so were her chances of escape. Where would she go, anyway? She had left everyone, everything for this man. She had nothing except him and what came along with him.
It had to end. Had to. There were times she couldn’t walk for days. The pain left her numb, lifeless. Of course, that didn’t stop him. He couldn’t change his daily schedule for some silly little pain now, could he? Beer, beef and some good ol’ beating. Sometimes beating off, if her bruises and tears weren’t turning on enough. Perfect.
She stumbled upon it by accident one day. It was in his sock drawer, shining black. She didn’t know how to use it at first. But hey, she knew how to use Google. Seemed like she had found her God. One that actually had all the answers.
She knew she had to do it. It was either him or her. She had suffered enough. The decision was made. He walked in already drunk that night, hungry to ‘make love’. Before he could enter the room, she walked out, not scared for the first time in ten years. A little nervous maybe, but then who wouldn’t be, if they had a fully loaded gun in their hands?
She smiled at him seductively, luring him. And lured he was. She leaned in to embrace him, whispering in his ear. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she pulled the trigger.
For the first time, it was he who fell to the ground. Falling in darkness that felt like liquid night, he finally got the climax he’d been lusting for.