by Evan Bond
He had tried to force her legs apart but Sasha attempted to hold firm. He smacked her groin over and over until it bruised. Finally, she had relented and opened her legs. While he did his deed, he gritted his teeth in her face. "You belong to me," he said. "If you ever leave me I will find you. I'll do worse than this to you. I'll fucking kill any man you're with. Fuck, I'll even have Tara."
"That's your daughter!" she cried but Brent only smacked her in the face.
"You shut up and stay still. I like my pussy silent."
Sasha knew divorce was out of the question. Did she really believe he would do as he promised? She wasn't sure. But she couldn't put her daughter in jeopardy like that. Watching her mom get hit was one thing but getting raped by her father, that would destroy her life. Years of therapy would hardly help her. In the end, she would end up with the same mental disorder her mother suffered from. Probably much worse. It wasn't a risk Sasha was willing to take.
She loathed the man for all of the things he had ever done to her but threatening her daughter was the worst. There was no chance of redemption for him. He was a disgusting pile of human waste and she would dispose of him as such.
He continued with his outbursts and she continued to take his beatings. His days were numbered. It was easier to take the abuse when you knew it wouldn't last much longer. Under the lie of grocery shopping, Sasha took her daughter to the library. Tara grabbed a handful of books and found a nice quiet corner to read.
Sasha went about some research. Particularly, ways to kill someone without leaving a trace. Using a library computer was the best way she knew to keep her search history clear. If she was ever suspected of murder, they wouldn't be able to prove premeditation at least.
She came across many articles that talked about the decomposition of the human body and the best methods of cleaning the scene so no trace could be found. But it was all from a professional standpoint. Something a crime scene investigator would use. She wanted the good stuff. She wanted advice on how to secretly kill someone.
It took several months, and countless trips to the library, to finally come up with the best method. The answer seemed so obvious. Poison. If done correctly, an autopsy could completely miss it. It could be mistaken for a heart attack, especially in heavier set victims with high cholesterol. It fit Brent perfectly. But, she had to be careful with the poison. Certain ones could be suspicious. Others could be found in the body naturally. Then there was the small issue of getting her hands on the right material.
During her research, she learned a car battery could become a source of poison. She simply needed a tub of water, a car battery, and a knife. If she could puncture the battery, she could then submerge it in the water and begin to serve the tainted drink to her husband. It would take several agonizing days to die but eventually, he would. She liked the idea and almost ran to Wal-Mart to buy a battery before realizing the major flaw. He never drank water. If she tried to force it on him, the plan might backfire. The beatings could get worse. He might even kill her or Tara. It wasn’t worth the risk. Though she liked the thought of making him suffer for days, she wanted something quicker.
She flipped through countless articles and posts outlining poisons and how they worked. Several seemed like a good idea but most were hard to come by. She had no seedy connections so anything illegal would be out. There had to be something which could be legally obtained and used as a poison. There had to be.
Then, she found it. The light in her mind clicked on with the realization of success. A little plant called Belladonna. It was perfect. The plant itself was highly toxic. Just a handful of berries could kill a human being. The name itself was perfect, too. Belladonna was Italian meaning beautiful lady. Could there be a more perfect cosmic justice by which to end his life? Sasha thought not.
Finding the berries or even the plant would be difficult. Though they were not illegal in the United States, she couldn’t find any way to buy the berries in her area. Brent would never allow her to head off on a road trip by herself. He would probably assume she was off to meet some boyfriend and she would find herself on the wrong end of another beating. No. She had to have the poison come to her. The perfect idea seemed to be slipping from her fingers.
Performing a search for Belladonna online provided her with some useful information. She could buy a bottle of Belladonna extract on eBay. Better yet, she found a few local alternative medicine shops in town. She could buy a bottle in cash. That would be her best option. Having a bottle of poison delivered to her home via eBay seemed like the easiest way to get caught.
One day, while her husband was at work, Sasha took Tara to her mother’s and asked her to watch her for a couple of hours. She then went about the task of planning the murder. Before she arrived at the store, she wondered if she would back out. In the end, she had not. Sasha walked into the store and found the bottle she was looking for, slipped her cash across the counter, and walked out with her head high. Change was coming.
She let a few days pass before putting her plan into action. It would be simple. Sasha would simply bring her husband a beer. He never turned them down. He would drink one, then another, and another. Sometime after he had become inebriated, she would hand him the last beer he would ever drink. It would have the entire bottle of Belladonna secretly inside the beer. He would toss his head back and down the drink without question and without taste. After the seventh or eighth beer, he stopped tasting them. At that point, he was only drinking to maintain intoxication.
The plan worked smoothly. She handed him the first beer and watched with anticipation as he drank it down. Quickly, she readied another. This went on for a couple of hours before she felt confident enough to give him the tainted drink. Her hands shook as she poured the drug into his beer. The medicine was a dark brown color and would have turned a normal lager into a disgusting, brownish mess. Fortunately, for Sasha, Brent preferred to drink ales. They were dark and bitter. Sasha had sipped one once and nearly puked in the sink. How any human being could ingest it was beyond her. Now, she was thankful for the beautiful, disgusting drink.
Brent downed the glass without so much as a second thought. He belched and laughed, seemingly pleased with himself. Sasha smirked and removed the glass from his hand. A flutter of excitement and shame passed through her body simultaneously. There was no going back now. The poison would kill him and she would then hide the body. It was self-defense, she kept telling herself. The torture would never stop. The abuse would never end. This was the only way.
After a few hours, Sasha began to worry. Nothing seemed to happen. Maybe she had misjudged the drug. It wasn’t as potent as she thought. Now, she’d have to start over and find something new. Perhaps the car battery would be the best option, though she had no idea how she would make it work. Before she could mentally prepare for a new course of action, something began to happen to Brent.
It started with his hands. They convulsed in rapid succession, seemingly smacking at invisible flies. Foam lathered around his mouth and his body shook in uncontrollable spasms. A disturbing choking sound bellowed from his throat. Shortly after, a wheezing sound kicked in. His eyes darted back and forth like he was seeing something that wasn’t there and he sunk down low in his chair. The entire time, he continued to spasm and convulse. The scene was horrible. She watched him to the very last spasm. When he finally stopped moving, she knew it was all over. Finally, the threat was gone.
Needing to be sure he was gone, Sasha pressed two shaky fingers against his neck. When she didn’t feel a pulse, she knew it had worked. Disposing of the body would be her next trick. She had read about acid baths that could dissolve a human body. Online advice had also instructed to chop the body to pieces and destroy anything that could identify the body. Smash the teeth, burn off fingerprints, cut out the eyes, and everything in between. But these methods were too messy and gruesome. Instead, she decided it would be best to bury the body in the woods far away from her home. He would never be found. Heat increased the speed of decomposit
ion and it was currently the hottest time of year. Hopefully, he would be reduced to nothing in no time. A couple of days after burying him, she would report him missing. Maybe he ran off with some whore he met at a bar. They’d believe it. Even if they suspected foul play, there was no proof.
As she had planned, Sasha loaded the body in the trunk of her car and drove several miles out of state. Tara had already been dropped off at Grandma’s house long before. She would be staying there for the time being.
Sasha’s mother had not taken the news well. Of course, she had wanted a better life for Sasha than that of an abused spouse but her problems had grown exponentially. Tara could be left without parents if she were ever caught. Sasha insisted they would never find the body, they would never find out it was her. What proof could they possibly get? Without a body, there’s no cause of death. Sure, maybe there would be speculation she had killed her husband but it wouldn’t matter. No proof, no prison. It was simple. They’d never find the body, she was sure of it.
Reluctantly, her mother decided to help her by watching Tara and agreeing to loan her as much money as she could afford to move away after everything blew over. There was an investigation but the police never came up with any leads. It was the longest couple of months of Sasha’s life. Her anxiety had gone into overdrive. She hardly slept, she barely ate. Every waking moment she feared would be her last as a free woman.
When the case went unsolved, and the detective involved informed her the most likely scenario had been abandonment, Sasha was then able to move out of town. She had put on a good show for the detective. Her heart was broken, she couldn’t stand to stay in the same city, let alone the same house, as her missing husband. She needed to leave.
There was not a single ounce of regret on her mind. She had killed her husband, yes, but Sasha felt it was more in self-defense. A jury might not see it that way but it was what she had done. Ultimately, she did an unspeakable act in order to keep herself and her daughter safe. Sasha was certain she could live with that.
A few weeks later and she found herself in the small town of Carlisle. Maybe one day she would be able to return to her old life, take Tara back to her friends. Maybe one day she would be able to stop looking over her shoulder, expecting the police to be standing there.
Chapter Twelve
Sheriff Harrison had taken her mind off of the murders, her name in the paper, and even her husband. But now, back at home, the broken levy of memories flooded back like a tidal wave. The dark secret she swore to take to her grave was screaming to come out. For the briefest moment, she thought about sharing the burden with Harrison. Perhaps he would understand.
It was a ridiculous thought and she knew it. She had killed Brent to protect herself from his wickedness. But the law wouldn’t be on her side. Which meant, Sheriff Harrison wouldn’t be on her side. She couldn’t bear to tell another human being what she had done. Telling her mother had been hard enough. Though her mother protected and helped her, Sasha knew her mother secretly despised her. She had committed murder. No matter what angle it was viewed from, it was murder.
Sasha understood how her mother felt. It was how she felt about herself. There was no doubt in her mind she had done what she needed to survive. There was no escaping that man and his abuse. Running would have delayed the inevitable. Action had been necessary. Had she stayed with Brent, she would have been killed sooner or later. Whether it be on purpose or on accident, she knew she would have been killed. Perhaps it would have been a push down the stairs or the cold steel of a kitchen knife against her throat. Either way, her time would have been short.
She kicked off her shoes and fell down on the couch. The day had brought a myriad of emotions and exhausted her to the core. She ran a hand through her hair and looked around the room. Something seemed off, though she couldn’t quite place what it was. After a few moments of thought, she realized a few items were slightly askew. Like the throw blanket on the back of the couch. It had been folded nicely and hung with care. Now, it lay in a heap on the floor.
Maybe it was just her imagination and nothing was out of place. The blanket on the floor could have had a simple explanation. A breeze from the open front door may have blown it off the back of the couch. Or, perhaps more simply, it had fallen when she let herself fall on the couch. But of course, nothing about her situation was normal. Everything seemed strange. She had murdered her husband, fled her life, found a home in the middle of nowhere in a town she had never heard of. None of it felt right.
It took a moment to sink in, but eventually, she noticed something was actually missing. The black candle she had found while unpacking was gone. She was certain she had left it on the end table and it was no longer there. At first, panic had set in like a burning fire deep inside her soul. Every appendage tingled with terror. Had someone been in her house? Had someone stolen the black candle? Was it the killer? Why?
Of course, she did have a kid in the house. They were apt to grab things and move them without so much as a reason. When Tara had been a toddler, she had refused to stop picking up her mother’s shoes and throwing them about the house. No matter how hard Sasha spanked her and how many times Brent yelled, Tara continued her escapade. Deciding it must be the answer, she headed off towards Tara’s room to investigate. Slowly, she creaked open her daughter’s bedroom door. Tara sat on the floor playing with one of her favorite dolls. Sasha smiled at her daughter and decided she didn’t want to disturb her. Instead of asking, Sasha glanced around the room but found nothing.
Quickly, she shut the door and darted back to the living room. She snatched up her cell phone and dialed the sheriff’s number. It seemed silly, calling about a missing candle but it had to mean something. The body found near her home and the heart in her backyard had made her understandably jumpy. Whoever had taken the candle from her home may have been the same person who cut out the heart. In her mind, there was no doubt.
“Goddamnit, of course.” She yelled. “No signal when I need it.”
Dialing again, she did not notice Tara come out of her room. “Son of a bitch!” Sasha yelled and spun around to meet her daughter’s gaze. Immediately, she dropped the phone and forced a smile.
“Is something wrong, Mommy?”
Sasha shook her head. There was no need to fill her daughter’s head with suspicion and fear. She had seen enough in her short life. Things were supposed to be different here in Carlisle. This was supposed to be a fresh start for her, for both of them. If it couldn’t be for Sasha she would make damn sure it was for Tara, no matter what.
“Of course not, sweetheart. The stupid phone just isn’t working. That’s all.” She prayed her daughter would buy the bluff.
“Ok.” Tara turned around and went back to her room, leaving Sasha to breathe a sigh of relief. But her panic wasn’t over yet. She still needed to get a hold of Harrison. Then, she remembered the slip of paper he had given her. His address! The phone might not work but she could drive to his place. Getting out of the house would help to clear her mind. Knowing someone had entered her home drummed up feelings of violation and being there only served to make it worse.
“Tara, sweetie, would you mind getting your shoes on? We have to make a quick trip.” Her daughter called out in acknowledgement a few seconds later. Sasha grabbed her keys and led Tara out of the house. Her cell phone rested on the back of the couch where she had slammed it down. Sasha had completely forgotten about it.
Standing in the cover of darkness, a hooded figure watched as Sasha loaded her little girl into the car and tore out of the driveway. The hooded figure watched long past Sasha’s departure. It stood there, staring at the house almost as if it would do a trick if watched long enough. Finally, after ten minutes had passed, the hooded figured stepped from the shadows and marched across the street towards the house.
Sasha pulled into Harrison's driveway and flicked off the headlights. Being at the sheriff’s home made her feel foolish. After all, it had only been a candle. There were a tho
usand explanations for where it might have been. Was it really important enough to disturb the sheriff so late in the evening? And on his own doorstep no less. She told the familiar doubting voice in the back of her mind to be quiet. It always doubted her. Tonight, she would not listen to it. Tonight, she would be making the calls. There was a killer out there somewhere. She had to keep her daughter safe.
She pounded on the door and tapped her foot on the concrete below. Tara stood nervously by, staring at her mother in bewilderment. There was nothing Sasha could have said to Tara at that moment which would have made sense. Instead, she remained quiet.
Harrison opened the door in jeans and a plain, white tee shirt. He stared at Sasha in confusion. Then he perked up like he saw something in her eyes. "What is it? What's wrong?" Sasha pulled her daughter in front of her like a shield.
"Can we come in?"
"Of course." He gestured them inside and shut the door, but not before scanning the darkness behind them.
"Please, have a seat." He said and Sasha did. "Would you like-"
"Someone was in my house."
"What?"
"I mean, they were in my house. Not while we were in it, well not that I know of, but someone had been there."
"Wait, slow down. What are you talking about?"
"Someone was in my house."
"Yeah, I got that part."
"Something was missing, Harrison. They broke in and took something. I don't know why they did. It was just a stupid candle. Why would someone want to steal a black candle?"
"Did you say a black candle?"
Sasha nodded.
"I found it in the end table after we unpacked. I thought it was weird looking but it smelled pretty nice. Why would someone take it?"
Harrison turned towards Tara. "Hey there, sweetheart. Would you mind giving your mother and I a moment? You can go to my room and watch cartoons on my TV."
