by Chuck Buda
“I’ll fucking kill you, bitch!” Holden pointed at Rebecca. The veins sprung from his temples. Samantha stepped aside as if she would allow Holden to move in Rebecca’s direction. They probably both wanted her dead at this point.
“Go ahead, Holden. I don’t want to live anymore anyway. We’re all going to die, and I’d rather be one of the first to go so I don’t have to watch Jordyn lose her life.”
Samantha placed her hands on her hips. “One of the first to die?”
Rebecca nodded. She took a deep breath and felt her hands shaking. The moment had arrived to reveal the real reason behind her visit. There would be no turning back now. Everything was out in the open. The affair. The sex with a teenager. The sordid story required an ending.
“Leah is gone.”
Samantha and Holden stood still. The house had suddenly fallen silent. Even their excited breathing was silenced.
“What?” Samantha spoke first. The question croaked out of her mouth as a deflated whisper.
“Leah is dead. In my house.”
Samantha fell to her knees. She crumbled forward and screamed into her hands. Holden bent to console her, but she swiped away his hands. Holden straightened and looked at Rebecca. The ashen color had returned to his face. His eyes drooped with sadness. His mouth opened as if it wanted to let out all his pain.
Rebecca felt worse now than she had when she had first come across the street. Somehow, she had imagined a weight would be lifted off her shoulders from revealing her loathsome actions and sharing the terrible news about their daughter.
Instead she felt heavier. And, oddly, emptier too. Rebecca searched for something better to say.
“Sorry.”
She used the tissue to dab at her eyes and hide her shame.
Chapter 3
The whole world had imploded around her. Samantha wondered what had happened that could have caused such terrible things to befall her. All at once, her life had changed drastically.
Her mind tried to comprehend the news. In the background, Holden threatened Rebecca and called her names. Samantha’s thoughts turned inward, digging deep for answers.
Had she not satisfied Holden as a lover? As a wife? How did Leah get mixed up in this? She had been friends with these kids for years. Now they were going to die? What did all this mean? A few hours ago, Leah had left to hang out with her friends. Just like she did every Friday night. And now...
Samantha cried out to Rebecca. “How did she die? Who did it?” She struggled to lift herself so she could go to Leah, hold her one last time. But her legs failed her. The strength in her body gave way to the overpowering emotions.
“Zoe killed her. They tried to save her, but it was too late.” Holden spun Rebecca around and continued to berate her for the destruction she had leveled upon their family.
Zoe killed her? How? It seemed so surreal. They had been relaxing and then Rebecca came in and fucked them both, only to crush them with tragic news about their daughter.
Wait a minute? Rebecca knew all this and then seduced me? She held onto this information long enough to fuck Holden?
Samantha’s rage returned. She climbed to her feet and ran to Rebecca. Rebecca was occupied, staving off Holden’s attacks. Samantha grabbed two fistfuls of Rebecca’s hair and yanked her head down. She listened with satisfaction as she heard follicles tearing from the scalp.
“You fucking knew about Leah all this time? You knew all this time?” She yanked her hair repeatedly. Rebecca howled in anguish, trying to hold her scalp on tight.
Holden stopped attacking Rebecca and tried to work Samantha free. He wrapped his arms around Samantha, squeezing his arms tighter to break the hold she had on Rebecca’s hair. Samantha let go and quickly spun on Holden. She punched his face with all her might, catching his jaw in the perfect spot. Holden’s eyes circled his sockets and his knees gave way. Holden crashed to the floor with a thud. He looked dazed.
Samantha rubbed her hand. She had never struck a person in anger before. It felt tremendously empowering. But her knuckles stung as if she had just smashed her hand into a tree. Rebecca crawled along the floor, crying. She paused a few times to check her hair, make sure it was still there.
“How dare you come into my house and suck my husband’s dick. And how dare you kill my child.” Samantha kicked Rebecca in the ribcage. She saw an immediate welt form on the bruised flesh which remained nude. Even in her anger, Samantha admired the beauty of Rebecca’s curves. Not enough to let her go though.
“I didn’t kill Leah. Zoe did.”
“But you knew about it. Why didn’t you call the police? Why didn’t you call us? Instead you preyed on us like...like...” Samantha lost her train of thought. Images of Leah smiling at the dinner table and playing with Tommy flashed before her eyes. Samantha realized she would never see those beautiful sights ever again.
“I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you.” Rebecca cradled herself, tending to her wounds. “I felt so bad. I couldn’t do it.”
“No. You couldn’t do it. But you could lick my pussy and fuck my husband, right?” Samantha looked around the room for something she could throw at Rebecca. She couldn’t believe the words that flew from her lips.
Rebecca rolled over onto her side. She held up a hand, pleading for mercy. “Please, please don’t hurt me. I never meant for any of this to happen. Things got out of hand.”
Samantha agreed. Things certainly had gotten out of hand. Her husband had fucked Rebecca and Jordyn. Samantha wondered if he had fucked Turner too? Why not? Apparently, he was fucking everyone. Now Leah was gone. It still felt like a nightmare. Samantha hoped she would roll over and find she was in bed next to Holden and all of this was just something she could wash away with her morning shower.
It felt too real to be a dream.
Holden gasped behind Samantha. She turned at the noises he made, watching him sit up. His eyes were wide and without focus. He shook his head and blinked multiple times, attempting to clear the cobwebs from his brain.
Samantha glared at him. Everything was his fault. Holden was the one who always had an erection. Holden was the one who begged for anal sex and wanted to videotape their lovemaking. Holden was the one who had agreed to have public sex with their neighbors...
It suddenly dawned on her.
That’s why Holden and Rebecca shot those looks at each other in the hot tub. That’s why Rebecca had suggested a partner swap. That’s why Holden was so quick to agree to it.
He knew all along. THEY knew all along.
Samantha reeled back to Holden.
“You...you destroyed this home. You did it all for yourself, didn’t you? It was all a lie, so you could get what you wanted.” Samantha tilted her head. Her eyes narrowed at the filthy, disgusting man she had shared her life with. The man who had knowledge of all her secrets. Her innermost thoughts. He was supposed to be her best friend. Her partner. Holden wasn’t her soul mate. He was a soul sucker. Something that belonged in the fires of hell and had probably crawled out of a pit in the earth. This man who had given her children. She had cared for him. Fed him and cleaned up after him. She had done things she had never felt comfortable with. All out of love and undying devotion.
And he had betrayed her.
Samantha began to hyperventilate. Her emotions swirled around her, sapping her breath. She wanted to lash out. She wanted to make everyone pay for what they had done to her. But she was powerless. Her knees wobbled. Her hands shook. The room spun as if she had a high fever.
“Samantha.” Holden shook her from the recesses of her mind. He struggled to get back on his feet. “Samantha.”
She blinked. Holden stumbled in her direction in slow motion. His face contorted and stretched. Samantha wondered if this night could get any stranger. She needed to get her wits about her. She needed to get to Leah. Samantha wanted to know for sure, to see with her own eyes, if Leah was dead or not. She wanted to touch her baby’s face one more time.
“Samantha. I’m...I
’m sorry. I love you. Please.” Holden begged her. Tears streamed down his face. His eyes still looked glassy, but the focus had returned. He held his arms out to her, beckoning her to fall into his embrace. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.” Rebecca whined from the floor. She cried and hid her face from the Fishers.
Samantha shook her head. Her will seeped back into her veins. The tears dried up. She saw Holden and Rebecca for who they were. What they represented in her life. Samantha knew that things had changed forever. There would be no turning back. No moment in time where her husband wasn’t a cheating scumbag. No time where her neighbor wasn’t a filthy whore. No chance at seeing her daughter graduate or get married. Or become a mother herself. All the dreams were shattered. There was no chance of returning to normal. And no use moving forward.
Unless each step satisfied her urge for revenge. Samantha decided to become something she had never conceived of before. She knew it was a choice that wouldn’t end well.
Not for her and definitely not for the others.
Chapter 4
Her mind snapped.
Samantha rushed at Rebecca. She dove on the floor, straddling Rebecca’s body. Samantha grabbed full handfuls of Rebecca’s hair and began smashing her head off the floor. The family room carpet buffered each blow, but the damage was still being done. Rebecca struggled against her tormentor, slapping and clawing at Samantha’s face. It did little to deter Samantha’s blood lust.
Behind her, Holden clutched at Samantha. She felt his strong hands grip her shoulders. He tore her off Rebecca, causing her to roll on her back. Without hesitation, Samantha kicked her foot in the air. The shot connected solidly with Holden balls. He groaned and dropped to his knees, cupping his private region. Samantha didn’t want to give him a second chance at stopping her. She grasped a wrought iron candelabra which adorned the coffee table. It felt heavy in her hands. She tried to remember if it had felt this substantial when she picked it up at the antique shop in New Hope.
Samantha lunged forward, swinging the candelabra like a baseball bat. The stroke was much shorter and compact in reach. However, the effect was as good as if she had hit a home run. The iron connected with Holden’s upturned face, his eyes wide with horror at the unavoidable impact.
Several teeth spewed into the air.
A loud thunk sounded as Holden passed into unconsciousness.
His body slumped to the floor. His hands dangled at his sides without resistance. Samantha stood over Holden, huffing and scouring the light-colored carpet for Holden’s lost teeth. She ignored Rebecca’s soft sobs. Her neighbor was caught between dazed and death. Samantha found one of the teeth under the coffee table. A small streak of blood traced the tooth’s flight.
Samantha giggled. A sense of horror in her belly was overshadowed by her desire to mete out justice at any cost. All her life she had served others and bent over backwards for her friends and family. And what had she gotten for all her Christianity?
Pain.
Weariness.
Heartache.
Enough was enough. Samantha had taken everything in stride, offering another cheek. No longer. Today she would reap the devil’s due with her own hands.
Samantha climbed on top of Holden. She sensed his chest rising and falling beneath her thighs. He was still alive. Maybe barely.
She licked her lips and turned the candelabra right-side up in her fist. The rounded, thick base would do just right.
THWAK.
CRUNCH.
CRUNCH.
CRUNCH.
Each successive pounding of the iron turned Holden’s face into raw meat. His face lost all discernible shape and contour. Where his nose had been was now a concave dent. Samantha felt the bone and cartilage collapse underneath. She couldn’t hear the crunching sound anymore as the surge of blood beat within her eardrums. The only thing existing in her field of vision was her iron tool and the mess below.
The beige carpet congealed with a thick layer of crimson. Chunks of brain oozed in the soup of death on the floor.
Samantha giggled.
She felt alive. Liberated.
Justified.
A whimper caught her off guard.
Samantha looked over her right shoulder to find Rebecca crawling away. She repeated a line from one of those children’s movies that her son Tommy had watched hundreds of times.
“Not today, Zurg.”
Samantha slid off Holden’s corpse. She crawled along the floor behind Rebecca, using the candelabra as a climber’s crimp. She reached Rebecca, snatching her ankle in her free hand. With supernatural strength, Samantha flipped Rebecca over on her back.
Rebecca cried and begged. She apologized repeatedly. Samantha allowed Rebecca to beg for mercy. She permitted Rebecca’s confessions. It was the Christian thing to do anyway. Everyone was born with sin. And, upon their death bed, sinners deserved to confess and free their soul for the journey ahead.
This WAS Rebecca’s death bed.
Before Rebecca finished pleading, Samantha shoved the crooked, mangled end of the candelabra into Rebecca’s crotch. It found its way home. Not because of Holden’s remaining seed. But because it tore through flesh. Buried deep inside of Rebecca’s womb, the iron hit a snag. It might have been pelvic bone or spine. It didn’t really matter to Samantha. She forced more of it to go inside. She jiggled the base left and right to find deep purchase.
Rebecca gasped, her eyes bulging from the sockets. The bloodshot orbs locked on Samantha. They captured the last visions of violence. Samantha grinned sheepishly into the reflection in Rebecca’s pupils.
“I’ll give you something to fuck.”
The words sounded hollow like somebody else in the room had said it.
The slurping noise stopped when Samantha let go of the candelabra. Rebecca expelled her dying breath. Her eyes still wide and staring. Unseeing.
Samantha stood up. She observed her artwork. The room had become a Pollock.
As she took pride in her craftsmanship, the realization of what she had done rushed home. Samantha vomited across the dead body. She contorted and gagged, emptying the contents of her stomach.
“Mommy?”
The soft question stunned her.
Samantha wiped her lips with the back of her hand. Her eyes blurred from the tears that had accompanied the sickness.
Tommy stood in the doorway in his pajamas. Samantha thought Tommy looked far younger than his age. She imagined a toddler sneaking around the corner to find Santa Claus tucking brightly wrapped gifts under a tree.
Samantha approached Tommy.
He took a step backwards; his facial expression showed he was unsure of what had used to be his mother.
Samantha lowered herself to a knee. She disregarded the fact that her pants were off, and she was still nude from the waist down. She reached for Tommy’s face, stroking his smooth skin. A streak of gore trailed her fingertip.
“Everything is going to be fine. You’ll see.”
Tommy’s face dropped as he began to cry. She could tell he was in shock. The fear was evident. He probably thought he was next.
Samantha hugged Tommy. She pulled him into her chest and squeezed. His small frame trembled. His sobs buried in her shoulder. She rubbed his back.
“Mommy will clean up the mess. But first, I have to go to work. You go to bed and I’ll see you in the morning. Okay?”
She backed away enough to see his face. His lips pouted. A snot bubble expanded under his nostril.
“I’ll make your favorite. Blueberry waffles with whipped cream. Sound good?”
Tommy pointed past her shoulder.
“Da... Dad.” His finger shook.
Samantha smiled wide. She tsked. “That’s not your Dad. That’s the boogeyman.” She glanced over her shoulder at the carnage. “But he can’t hurt us anymore.”
Samantha stood and patted Tommy’s bottom.
“Go on. Go back to bed and I’ll see you in the morning.”
Tommy’s fear summoned his feet to carry him across the kitchen to the staircase. He turned to look at her every few steps. Samantha got the feeling he wasn’t trustful that she would let him go. Like he worried she would chase him up the stairs with a knife.
She listened for the soft patter of his feet on the steps. She waited until he reached the landing on the second floor.
“I love you.” She called after him.
A few moments later, Samantha heard Tommy’s bedroom door close shut. And the lock clicked into place.
Samantha shrugged. Now that Tommy was taken care of, she needed to get dressed and go see her daughter.
And then get back to work.
Chapter 5
The business trip had been long and tiring. The usual. Turner had come to accept his fate in his mid-twenties when he had become the budding superstar at the firm. Ultra-professional and a knack for making people feel warm and fuzzy were the hallmarks of his skill set. Senior management saw the potential even if it was overshadowed by the green industry experience. Nearly thirty years later, Turner had grown accustomed to his travel-laden lifestyle.
It paid to be on the road.
Each week was the same as the one preceding it. Early flight out of Newark on Monday morning. One day per week spent with different clients or territory managers. And then the dreadful late Friday flight home. Newark was one of the busiest airports in the country so by the time Friday night arrived, the flights were backed up like the plumbing in a middle-school. By the time he retrieved his bags and drove home from the airport, Turner would get home to a quiet house. Jordyn would be asleep or out with friends depending on the social calendar. And Rebecca would be waiting for him.
Turner loved his welcome wagon.
Rebecca wasn’t much of a homemaker but she more than made up for it in the bedroom. Regardless of what hour he arrived home or how tired Rebecca was, she would always be there to service him.
Sometimes Turner would be so exhausted, all he could think about was climbing into bed and sleeping the entire weekend through. If he arrived that tired, Rebecca would pleasure him as he relaxed, allowing him to gently fall asleep with a tremendous orgasm.
