May Sickness: 5

Chapter 5

Bill was a man of average standings. He had worked at the same white collar job for over a decade. At his job he would sit at a desk for eight hours a day, answering phones, nothing more nothing less. His appearance was also that of a mediocre stature, mid-forties, paying off a mortgage, a just typical suburbanite with a mundane life.

The only thing extraordinary about Bill was his wife, Mary. She was gorgeous. They were a perfect contrast to one another; she was tall with long blonde hair, he was short and balding, he was fat, she was in excellent portion. Many times he asked himself why she was with him.

It was after work when it all started.

Bill came home early from work one day; it was his and Mary's anniversary.

He parked his compact car in the driveway of their small, three bedroom, suburban house.

Bill entered the house quietly, trying to surprise his wife. Throughout the house he searched. In the kitchen, the laundry room, the living room and finally the bathroom, but she was no where to be found. She must be taking a nap, he thought as he walked up the stairs to the master bedroom.

He opened the door to the room.

What Bill saw was what he thought he would see, his wife sleeping. There was, however, something else, another man in the bed. The man was Bill’s long time neighbour, they were friends, each Sunday they would watch football together. The man was also married, and on many occasions the two couples had went on double dates.

They were still sleeping. She was covered in the blankets, while he slept on top of them, naked.

Bill stood in the doorway, his hand still on the handle. He squeezed, crushing it.

His arm spasmed, tearing the door from its hinges, waking them.

“Bill what are you doing home early?” She spoke in a condescending mien, as if it were Bill’s fault.

The neighbour scrambled out of the bed. He pulled the top most blanket off the bed, and wrapped it around himself.

“Hey man, I’m so sorry about this.” Bill started approaching him, “Hey man, I think you and Mary should talk about this, so I’ll be leaving.” He tried to defuse the situation, but Bill continued to walk toward him.

Bill grabbed the man’s neck.

“You piece of garbage!” He squeezed and squeezed until his index finger and thumb, those of one of his tiny hands, touched. He let go, the body falling to the floor. His wife ran toward the door.

Before the man’s body hit the floor, before Mary reached the door, everything stopped. The television screen stopped, halting on a single picture, no longer making any noise. “What the hell? What’s going on?” Bill was perturbed.

A voice answered, “You know, I’m tired of this humanitarian shit. Who gives a shit if some idiot uses it to kill the man his wife is screwing. He was going to kill her too, no witnesses, no problem, so what’s the point?” The voice was that of a man’s, but it was axiomatic that he was not talking to Bill.

“If you’re going to be that way you won’t get a turn with the bitch. It’s not a matter of principle; I’m just doing this for fun. Now stop the complaining so we can kill him and so we can unfreeze time and have some fun.” Another voice replied, also that of a man.

“Who are you?!” Bill yelled, he looked around, but could not see who were talking.

Then, coming out of the walls on either side of the room, emerged two men.

The two men were Raphael and Gabriel, Raphael of Fortune and Gabriel the Pure. Raphael wore a black suit, clean and without wrinkles, with a long white tie. Gabriel, however, wore more casual clothes, a pair of shorts and a short sleeve shirt.

“Who are we? Well that’s...” Raphael started, but was interrupted.

“It is of no concern of yours who we are.” Gabriel seemed to display a more composed demeanour than Raphael. “We are your executioners.”

Bill lunged at Gabriel.

Gabriel’s hand ripped through Bill’s chest, directly through the sternum, piercing the heart. His body fell to the floor.

They placed Mary’s body, still frozen, on the bed.

Gabriel walked over to a dresser at the corner of the room. Opening the drawer, he started digging through the articles of clothing.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Raphael asked, bending over and removing a belt from a pair of pants. He then tied Mary’s hands to the headboard.

Gabriel pulled out a pair of woman's underwear, “She’s going to need a gag.”

“She doesn’t look like a screamer.”

“Yeah and how many times have you said that?”

Raphael rubbed his chin, and as if coming to a realization, he replied, “I’ll shove it down her throat. Throw it.” Gabriel tossed the woman's underwear, and Raphael placed them in her mouth. “Okay man, let’s do it.”

Time unfroze, the neighbour’s body hit the floor, Mary’s eyes darted back and forth, she could not move her arms, or scream, all she could do was look, and what she saw were two men standing over her.

They had their way with her, each fulfilling their desires.

Later officers would show up, once the three had been reported missing. For over a week their bodies lay in that room.

When the officer walked into the room, what awaited him was complete hell. The putrid smell of rotting flesh and the complete hell of what he saw.

The bodies of two men, lying on a blood stained carpet, was not what was overwhelming, but that of the woman.

Her body lay on the mattress, indistinguishable from that of road kill. Her abdomen cut open, its contents spread over the bed. Her breast, neck and face heavily lacerated. Large chunks of flesh and muscle were missing from her legs. Everything an insult to her once beautiful body.

The police officer fainted, his partner heard a Thud!, and rushed to the room.

“My god!” He said, on seeing the tragedy.