I looked around the room and thought about how ironic the situation was. It had taken a whole year to decorate this room to look cheery, and now it was being used for something so diabolical that I cringed at the very thought.
I had married Peter thinking he was like every other normal guy. We had met in a college class, dated for a year, and then we got hitched a few months after our dating anniversary. He had hid his intentions well for the first year of our marriage, but when we had finished furnishing the house, things had changed--
The sound of running water hit my ears, and I quickly turned to look; pain shot through my body starting from my head wound. He was filling a flowery mug with tap water. The blood trickled from my face slowly, and I started to wring my hands together as if there was a towel between them.
He turned and saw me looking nervously at him. "We've been through this, Kathryn," he reminded me gently. Placing the cup by my body, he pulled something small out of his suit pocket. "There is no need to look so pale because this will help with the pain."
I wanted to protest, but I knew it would make matters worse. He extended his hand with a small pill laid within the crevices. He waited for me to take it. My hands felt like lead as I slowly reached up and took the pain relieving medicine. It never worked, especially with what he was about to do, but I took it anyway hoping that it would someday help.
"Drink up."
YOU ARE READING
Peter, Peter
HorrorWarning: If you have nightmares after reading about cannibals, this is probably not the best book for you. Having said that, I hope you enjoy the story!
