His blurry vision slowly gave way to clarity. His peaceful temporary existence in a state of complete oblivion was quickly replaced by the brashness of his recent predicament; this was his nemesis. No doubt he deserved his fate, it was all his doing, yet he prayed silently for mercy. He felt the impact just as soon as he saw it coming; The smarting pain on his cheek told the whole story, he could feel his cheeks redden. The pain he felt told him she still had her ring on. His pain was an effective stimulant. He saw her clearly now; she was still wearing her wedding gown. A few hours earlier she could have passed for the most beautiful bride ever, gracefully adorned in her silver strapless Sophia Tolli Mon Cheri couture with silver highlights across her shimmering black hair. Now she looked like the lead character in a Chucky movie.
The sinister atmosphere of the dimly lit basement was haunting, her wedding dress had been reduced to rags, her cheeks were red as paint, with deep black lines of the viscous mix $300 Avon Nuevo Mascara makes when mixed with tears. She looked nothing like the angel she usually was, but her eyes were as beautiful as ever; big and brown, with a twinkle in them. They Shone almost as bright as the piece of silver she now held before her. She had always been his Medusa, only her eyes could hold him spell-bound the way they did. They shone with passion, but this time it was a different emotion—hatred. All the love and admiration had been eroded by many years of neglect on his part, he had it all once, but he had been cruel, a little too cruel.
His head hurt badly. He had hurt his head from the fall down the basement steps. Every fibre of his being burned with pain, yet compared to the brutal irony of his current predicament, it was all feather-play. Worse than the discomfort of the ropes that held him bound, was the painful irony of his certain death by the hands of someone he cared deeply for, he was going to die by the hands of his very own guardian angel–his Stephanie. He whispered a silent prayer to a God he barely knew, he needed a miracle fast. He uttered a feeble plea as her shaky fingers struggled for control of the trigger, the nozzles only inches away from his pounding heart. She was inexperienced, but it was impossible to miss at so close a range. Maybe one last time he could work his magic, he had always been skillful at persuasion. He had barely uttered a word when a third slap rang across his face. “Shut the f*** up you lying son of a b***h. Save your breath for judgement, you’d need it when you get to hell”. He was a devil with words, but what use was his gift if she wouldn’t even let him speak.
She was hysterical with tears. She was the perfect girl until he made her a monster. She loved him to bits, any other day she would have gladly given her life for his, but today she was going to take his. A bullet to his chest was too much mercy for him he deserved a grimmer fate. She had pushed him down the basement steps and tied him up while he was out cold, but that was nothing compared to what she had gone through. She had given him the last six years of her life and he had thrown it all away leaving her at the altar; a bride without a groom. She was going to kill him, no doubt he deserved to die, but a thought held her back. When she first met him, he wasn’t anything like this. He was sweet and naive and was madly in love with her. She wasn’t entirely a saint herself and maybe she was partly responsible for his actions. He had waited patiently for her to cure him back, but he was never good enough for her. Then he had changed to be what she wanted, losing his soul in the process. The thought gave her almost as much torture as he felt now. Bleeding from the wounds he sustained from the fall, he had his dislocated arm tied behind him and yet she felt worse.
She was plagued by her own demons; she created this monster
About me: I’m a god with a pen, keyboard, chalk, marker or anything that writes. The only thing I suck at writing is a bio of myself. Basically, I love women and life and I’m the founder of The Literary Cult.