Killers Anomyous

She had enough of his screwing around. She knew that he was sleeping with his secretary at work. She could tell by the late nights of “working” at the office and the smell of cheap perfume that would engulf him. She knew all about it, and she was fed up.

It was nineteen years ago that the couple married. It was a quiet ceremony with only a few friends and family. To her it was one of those things that little girls always dreamed of. It all seemed perfect.

One night of an argument can take a toll on people, and can make you do stupid things. It’s always been said that a couple shouldn’t go to bed angry- that can have different meanings for some.
It had been a long day at the office for her husband, and she had a long day also; both with their nerves on edge.

She didn’t remember how the argument had started. She couldn’t recall if it had been a trite remark about the dinner that she had messed up for the second time that week or if it had merely been something that was done. All she knew is that an argument ensued.
The night grew later and he told his wife that he didn’t wish to stay in the house with someone who couldn’t express their feelings in a mature way. He briefly explained how he was going to stay the night in a nearby hotel. The look on his face told her differently. He took up residence for the night at his secretary’s apartment. This was all fine and dandy until one night of sleeping on the couch turned into a one night fling that he would regret.

His “sleeping in a hotel” had become habitual lately, and on the nights that he actually would come home he would arrive late, take a shower in attempts to either scrub away the whorish perfume or his guilt, then crawl into bed beside her. She knew full well where he had been.
That night was a different night. Something came over her that decided instead of being the self-pitying wife of an unfaithful husband she would take matters into her own hands. She walked over to her closet and found a short black dress that she had worn on one of their most romantic dates – she remembered it well. He had taken her out to her favorite restaurant then they took a long walk in the nearby park at night and just talked as she was so fond of. - She figured that she ought to look nicely for the special occasion that she had planned for him.

She waited for him. She knew that he would venture over to her place as he did every Tuesday. She knew that he would be back. He had to come back.
She sat in her favorite over-stuffed chair facing the front door. She sipped on a glass of wine as she watched with nothing but patience.
The clock that hung on a nearby wall ticked away slowly. She didn’t know how long she sat there, but it didn’t matter. She would wait for days if she had to. She did know, however, that it was long enough for her to put a good dent in the wine bottle.
The door knob slowly turned. Her husband not knowing his wife sitting in the dark slipped through the door. He was nearly silent as he took off his shoes and headed for bedroom door for his shower.

She smirked a bit and calmly stated, “You smell like shame and a cheap whore.”
He stopped. He turned as his wife flipped on a nearby lamp.
“You’re up late”, he sheepishly remarked knowing that he had been caught.
She ignored his comment and slowly got up from the chair with the wine bottle that she had exchanged for the glass after the second round. “Tell me my love. How was she? I assume she was well enough that you don’t even bother to come home half of the time anymore.”

He stared at her without being able to utter words.

“Aw, nothing to say? I do have to admit it’s a first.”

She slowly walked towards him with an ever growing smirk on her face.

“Do you remember this dress my love?”

He nodded. How could he forget? He bought it for her for that night. He had loved the way that it complimented her shape so well.

She slipped behind him and whispered into his ear.

“You hurt me, and I know revenge will be oh so sweet” was all she breathed into his ear before taking the bottle and slamming it against his head. He fell to the ground as a pool of blood started to form on the wood floor. She repeatedly beat in his skull until the bottle shattered. Blood flooded the floor around the chair as he gasped his final breath. She smiled sinisterly at the work that she had done.

She stepped over the body and headed for the bathroom to retrieve some towels. She soaked up the blood and threw the soiled towels into the fireplace and struck a match to it. As they burned she got a clever idea as to what to do with the body. She knew that simply dumping it would eventually cause a stir.

She glanced around her kitchen and saw that she had everything that she would need to dispose of the evidence.

That night she had one of the most pleasant meals that one could think, and she had enough for a few nights afterwards.