Blood. So much blood.
It sprayed across the room in thick, wet arcs as the knife rose and fell. The rhythm was almost hypnotic, followed by a wet, heavy thud, and a sharp, metallic tang that stung his nose. On the floor, a body gurgled, and out of it, came a broken, bubbling sound from its throat.
Adrian couldn't move. His boots felt glued to the floor. He couldn't open his mouth. Couldn't look down. Couldn't look up. Was he paralyzed? Was his will so eroded, that he couldn't function as a normal human being? Was he in hell?
No, that doesn't matter right now. What matters right now is-
A figure stepped into his peripheral view. Short, elegant strides. She knelt beside the dying woman, stepping carelessly through the expanding puddle on the floor. Resting one elbow casually on her knee, she tilted her head, admiring her work with the detached critique of a food enthusiast reviewing its palate.
"Please… stop…", the body whimpered.
The voice belonged to Jessica, but it was carved out, stripped of the cheerful energy she'd had at the gym just days earlier.
The figure turned.
It was Anita.
She smiled at him. That sweet, terrifyingly pure smile that usually meant she was in a good mood. Except now, her cheeks and the expensive fabric of her white blouse were painted red.
"Mr. Cheater… you're next."
-
Adrian shot upright in bed, a strangled gasp tearing from his throat. His heart slammed against his ribs. His throat convulsed, swallowing hard as he nearly choked on his own dry spit. The room was dark, but the phantom, metallic stench of blood still haunted his nose, heavy and suffocating.
He snapped his head to the side, his vision blurring from the sudden rush of adrenaline, expecting the worst, but to his dismay-
Anita was right there.
She was lying peacefully on her side, facing him, bathed in the weak moonlight shining through the blinds. A soft, innocent smile graced her lips, and she looked completely harmless, so much so that no sane man would ever think she'd done the heinous things leading up to this point. Her hand was hovering mid-air, her fingers curled slightly, frozen, suggesting that she had been gently stroking his chest before he startled her out of her mantra-like state.
"You were whimpering again, hon," she murmured. Her voice was a low, husky purr, thick with sleep and dripping with a terrifying innocence.
Before he could pull away, she slid closer, closing the gap between them. She pressed her warm body against his. It was too warm. It felt like it was threatening to scorch him if he stayed too close. Her fingers found his, intertwining them with a gentle grip. She closed her eyes, letting her palm ride his heart rate.
"Bad dream..?"
"Yeah…", Adrian forced the words past the lump in his throat, ignoring her leg that she just splayed across his own pair of legs, her sole gently nuzzling the outer side of his shin, almost like a possessive little stray cat.
"Just… just a nightmare."
She hummed softly, a vibrating sound. She nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply.
"Was it about me?~"
The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded. Her hand lying on his torso, slipped meekly under his tee, and drifted higher, the tips of her nails grazing the bare skin of his stomach with feather light pressure. It was supposed to be soothing, but Adrian could feel the under looming violence behind it. If he were to say the wrong thing to piss her off, he could see it a very real possibility of her churning out his insides with her bare nails, if it came down to that.
Adrian hesitated, his mind racing through the eggshells of her psychology. If he said yes, would it flatter her twisted sense of devotion? Or would she see it as proof that he viewed her as a monster? In the dream, she had butchered Jessica. And then she had turned that same bloody smile towards him.
Anita's fingers tightened, bunching the fabric of his shirt into her fist, pulling him a fraction of an inch closer until their noses almost touched. Her eyes cracked open, reflecting the moonlight like a predator waiting in the bush.
"Adrian."
Her voice dropping into that dangerous monotone, the tone she used right before the basement doors unlocked.
"I… I saw you hurting someone," he whispered, deciding honesty with a side of showing his own vulnerability was his safest bet.
"There was so much blood. It wouldn't stop. It was all I could see in that dream."
Silence stretched over the bedroom, thick and suffocating. Adrian held his breath, wondering if this was the trigger that would bring the nightmare into reality.
Then, she let out a soft, delighted laugh against his skin.
"Oh, hon…", she lifted her head, looking down at him with eyes that screamed twisted, manic affection.
"You have such a wild imagination. You've been working yourself up too much lately, you know?"
She leaned in, her tongue flicking out to lick the corner of his mouth a slow, tender, almost maternal gesture that made his stomach turn inside out. It was almost akin to a predator giving its prey a lick of death, right before pouncing and slaughtering it. Anita pulled back, licking her own lips with a slightly hasty breath, because even though she was a full-blown psychopath, the lewd action of claiming the only one probable person that loved her in this entire world still made her heart beat faster.
"But you know I'd never do anything to scare you, right? Everything I do… I do it to keep us together. To keep you safe."
Liar.
The word screamed in Adrian's mind, but his lips remained firmly shut. They both knew the truth. They both remembered the chains. They both knew the weight of her legal prowess and the sheer, physical dominance she held behind closed doors.
She kissed him right then. It wasn't a gentle morning kiss; it was deep, aggressive, and hungry, a physical reassertion of her ownership. Her body shifted, her crotch rubbing gently over his thigh, rubbing in sync with the intensity of the kiss.
"I'm right here," she whispered against his lips, her breath hot and smelling faintly of the mint mouthwash she used before bed.
Her hand slipped beneath the waistband of his pajama pants, her skin smooth against his hip, a reminder that there was nowhere he could hide from her touch.
"And I'm never leaving you alone…"
She smiled against his mouth, ominous, yet cute.
Not even in your dreams.
-
By 9:30 AM, the bedroom was empty, but the scent of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee drifted through the hallway. Adrian sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face with trembling hands. His phone sat on the nightstand. He picked it up, his thumb hovering over the screen.
The lock screen was a picture of them. A time when her smiles felt real, before the stalking, before the gun, before the threats.
He opened his social media feed, his heart doing a sick flip. He wanted to look up Jessica's profile. He needed to see if she had posted anything since last night. A gym selfie, a morning quote, anything to prove she was still drawing breath.
But he couldn't. If Anita checked the search logs and saw Jessica's name, it would be a death sentence for whichever one of them was still alive.
"Breakfast is ready, honeybee~"
Anita's cheerful voice rang out from the kitchen, perfectly pitched, hitting that sugary sweet note.
Adrian forced his legs to move, walking out into the sunlit kitchen. Anita was standing by the stove, wearing a pale pink apron. Her hair was tied back in a neat, elegant bun. She looked like the quintessential, picture-perfect wife from a vintage advertisement from the 90's.
Except, on the dinner table, sat her leather purse. And peeking out from the top was a small, black object that made Adrian's blood run cold.
"Sit, sit," she cooed, gliding over to him and pushing him gently into his chair by his shoulders. She placed a plate in front of him: two perfectly sunny-side-up eggs, crisp bacon, and toast cut into neat triangles.
"You look pale this morning," she noted, leaning over him, her face inches from his as she poured dark coffee into his mug.
"Are you still thinking about that silly dream?"
"No," Adrian lied, keeping his eyes glued to his plate. He picked up his fork, his fingers stiff.
"Just tired."
"Good." Anita smiled, taking her seat opposite him. She didn't touch her own food; she just rested her chin in her hands, watching him chew with undivided attention. It was her favorite pastime watching him live, watching him consume the things she provided for him.
"Because we have a very busy day ahead of us. Well, at least, I do. You have your study group at two, right?"
Adrian nodded absent mindedly, a piece of bacon halfway to his mouth.
"Yeah. Just the usual guys from the law department. At the library."
At the back of his mind, he was trying to remember what she had in his purse. He was going through all of his memories. Especially the violent ones. Replaying them piece by piece, although it was not the best thing to do for his mental health, and the first activity right when he woke up, he knew it was an object that screamed red flag. He'd seen one of these things before.
And then it hit him mid-bite.
It was a stun gun.
The same one she'd used to get him into the basement.
"Mmhmm." Anita took a delicate sip of her coffee, snapping him out of his limbo.
"That's good. Focus on your studies. I love a hardworking man. As for me… I have to run some errands. I need to drop by the central district. Oh, and I might stop by your gym."
The fork slipped from Adrian's fingers, clattering against the plate. The sound was deafeningly loud in the quiet kitchen.
Anita's eyes narrowed slightly, her smile remaining perfectly static.
"Oh? Slippery fingers today?"
"I… sorry.", Adrian stammered, frantically picking up the fork.
His mind was screaming.
The gym.
Why the gym? Why are you going there? You usually hate the commercial gyms.
"Oh, I just realized I left something there yesterday.", she said casually, buttering a piece of toast with slow, rhythmic strokes. It was almost as if she'd been gifted with the ability to read Adrian's mind. Well, at this point, she could be called well versed in that sense.
Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.
"When I came to pick you up from your little… workout session. I think I dropped a hairpin near the juice bar. Or maybe near the locker rooms."
Adrian's breath hitched. She hadn't been near the locker rooms yesterday. She had confronted them right at the entrance cafe. The only reason she would know the layout of the inner gym or have a reason to go back there was if she had followed someone.
If she had followed Jessica.
"Did you… find anything else while you were looking for it?", Adrian asked, trying desperately to keep his voice level, to sound like he was just making idle conversation.
Anita stopped buttering the toast. She lowered the knife, placing it perfectly parallel to her plate. The sugary demeanor vanished in an instant, replaced by a cold, calculating demeanor that made the room feel twenty degrees colder.
"Are you asking about my hairpin, Adrian? Or are you asking about that blonde girl?"
Adrian felt his throat tighten. The trap had sprung.
"I'm just asking about your day, Anita," he managed to say, his voice cracking slightly.
Anita leaned across the table, her shadow falling over his plate.
"She was messy, Adrian. Her form at the gym was sloppy. And women who are sloppy tend to take things that don't belong to them because they don't have the discipline to earn their own."
She reached out, her fingers pinching his chin, forcing him to look directly into her unblinking, dark eyes.
"I went back to the gym last night after you went to sleep. Just to look around. To see what kind of space my husband is spending his free time in."
She tilted his head sideways, examining his face for any sign of dejection.
"Do you know what I found in the parking lot?"
Adrian couldn't speak. He could only stare at her, paralyzed by the sheer terror of what she was about to say.
"I found a keychain," Anita whispered, her voice dropping into that low tone again, signaling her complete detachment from reality.
"A little silver dumbbell. It looked just like the one attached to that girl's gym bag. It was lying in the dark, right next to a patch of oil. Or maybe it wasn't oil. It was hard to tell in the dark."
She let go of his chin, wiping her fingers on a napkin as if she had touched something filthy.
"I brought it home. It's in my bag. Should I return it to her, Adrian? Or do you think she won't be needing it anymore?"
The silence that followed was absolute. Adrian felt a cold sweat break out across his forehead, trickling down his temple.
She went back last night. While he was asleep or perhaps while he was having that exact nightmare?
Had Anita slipped out of bed, driven back to the gym, and done… something? Or somethings?
"I… I don't care about her keychain, Anita.", Adrian whispered. He had to betray Jessica to save himself, even if it meant abandoning the poor girl to whatever horrific fate Anita had cooked up.
"I don't care about her at all. I told you, she's just someone I saw at the gym."
Anita stared at him for three agonizing seconds, searching his face for a lie. Then, like a theater curtain rising on a completely different play, her sweet, dimpled smile snapped back into place.
"I know, honeybee," she cheered, standing up and smoothing down her apron.
"I know you're a good boy. You just get confused sometimes. But that's why I'm here."
To keep your head straight.
She walked over, picked up her purse, and slung it over her shoulder. The heavy clink of the stun gun shifting inside didn't haze Adrian. He gave up, after all. What could he do? Phone the police and tell them a random woman is about to be killed by another woman? The police would ask him how would he know about this piece of information, and what would he say then? Wouldn't that label him as an accomplice? A suspect? Would Anita frame him for the murder?
No, she would never do that.
But the possibility still stuck inside his head.
"I'll be back by five. Make sure to cook dinner," she said, walking to the front door. She stopped and turned back to give him a sweet, blowing kiss.
"Don't forget to lock the top bolt after I leave. The world out there is dangerous, Adrian. People disappear every day. I'd die if anything happened to my precious husband."
The heavy door clicked shut. A second later, the electronic smart lock engaged with a loud, mechanical snap.
He was locked in.
Adrian collapsed in his chair, his chest heaving as he finally let out the breath he'd been holding. He waited two full minutes, listening to the quiet of the hallway outside, ensuring her red heels had faded entirely down the corridor.
As soon as he was certain she was gone, he bolted from the chair. He ignored his plate, running straight to the living room window that overlooked the complex parking lot. He pulled the blinds back by a millimeter, his eyes scanning the asphalt below.
He watched as Anita emerged from the lobby. She walked with a light, airy skip in her step, looking like a woman completely in love, without a care in the world. She unlocked her sedan, tossed her purse into the passenger seat, and drove away, turning left toward the city center.
Adrian spun around, his eyes locking onto his phone on the kitchen table.
He had a window. A tiny, terrifyingly brief window before she checked the remote surveillance cameras installed in the living room corner. He knew where the blind spots were: a small angle right between the corridor and the kitchen.
He grabbed the phone, dove into the tight space and opened his browser, going in incognito mode. His hands were shaking so violently he mistyped the URL twice. He brought up the online local news outlets for their district.
Nothing. No reports of a body found in the gym parking lot. No missing persons reports yet.
But that didn't mean Jessica was safe. Anita was a top-tier lawyer; she knew exactly how forensic investigations worked. If she had taken Jessica, she wouldn't leave a body out in the open like an amateur. She would have used the trunk. She would have used the basement.
With a racing heart, Adrian opened his contact list. He didn't have Jessica's number, but he remembered the name of the gym's group chat on the messaging app. He scrolled furiously, finding the member list.
Jessica M.
Her profile icon was a bright, smiling photo of her holding a protein shake, full of life and completely oblivious to the shadow that had fallen over her. Her status indicator was a grey circle. Offline.
Adrian's thumb hovered over the message button. Finally giving in, he started to type out a long message to call the police. That's all he could muster up the courage to send her right now. This was for the best, he thought.
Because if he did nothing, Jessica might already be tied up somewhere, or worse, her body was currently decomposing in a trunk while Anita ran her "errands."
Right as he was about to hit send, his phone vibrated in his hand, the sudden shock causing him to almost drop it.
A notification popped up at the top of the screen.
It was a text from Anita.
Attached was a photo. It was a picture taken from the driver's seat of her car, looking through the windshield. The camera was pointed directly at a quiet, suburban flat.
Beneath the photo, a single line of text from Anita appeared:
"Forgot to ask, hon. Do you think she likes lilies or roses for an apology? Tell me before I go inside.~ "