101 Psychos #3 – A Woman Scorned

Psycho #3 – A Woman Scorned
© S.B. “LullaDIEs”

A Tale of Nymphomania and Betrayal:

Nymphomania refers to a person who has frequently occurring sexual urges, usually impulsive or compulsive. The validity of this disorder is debated among the medical community.

A Psychotic Breakdown is when a completely sane person experiences insanity. Many things can cause this temporary psychosis. Environmental triggers, such as losing a loved one, are known to contribute, as may excessive stress, or the interaction of strong social demands with a pre-existing vulnerability of self.

I’d gotten off work a couple hours early and been excited to spend the remainder of the evening with my husband. He was such a loving spouse, always showering me with affection and gifts. I felt guilty about the extra hours I’d been putting into my job and planned to make it up to him that night. He loved seeing me in purple, and so I wore a brand new dark purple bra and undies set adorned with light pink lace and hearts. I thought everything would be perfect. That was before I opened the front door.

I could hear a womans soft moans coming from the bedroom, and the musty smell of sex filled our house. My heart dropped to my stomach. I knew what was happening behind the closed bedroom door. There was no denying it, yet I still refused to believe that my darling husband would be capable of such betrayal. As I approached the room my mind tried conjuring up any and all explanations, like my husband watching a porn or, maybe, there was a reason one of his friends couldn’t bring a girl home so they came here instead. I knew some of my scenarios were unlikely, but I wanted anything but the truth to be true.

I stood in front of the wooden door with my hand on the knob. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to see or not. Did I want to face my greatest fear? Did I really want to know all the nasty details? My feet wanted to turn and run, but my hand twisted the knob and pushed the door open.

There he was, on top of a pretty little blonde. I detested missionary style, claiming it was boring and uncreative. Yet, that dull position is exactly how I found them. I felt slightly ashamed to see them enjoy it. Nausea hit me. The taste of bile filled my mouth as the bitter fluid rose up my throat.

The woman’s face was flushed pink with pleasure, a pleasure that should have been mine. That thought caused my disgust to disappear as pure rage consumed me. I stormed out of the room, unwilling to watch his infidelity anymore. The two were so engrossed with each other that neither noticed my presence, or my departure.

I stalked into the kitchen and instinctively grabbed the biggest knife I could find. Studying my reflection in its metallic surface, I wondered what I planned to do with it. Surely the two of them would overpower me if I approached with only the knife. There must be something else…

Suddenly, I remembered the small pistol on top of the fridge. My husband bought it for the house after the neighbor had a break in. He said he wanted me to be able to defend myself should someone try to hurt me. I tried telling him it was unnecessary, but he insisted that my safety was his number one priority and so the 9mm was purchased.

I stood on my tiptoes while reaching up and began feeling around for the forgotten firearm. The moans from the other room were becoming louder and faster as the two neared their climax. I knew I was running out of time.

I felt the butt of the gun and smiled to myself. Pulling it down, I inspected it just as he had shown me to. Fully loaded magazine, safety off, cocked, and ready to go. It felt heavy and foreign to my delicate hands, but it also gave me a sense of control over my situation.

I started down the hall, but stopped halfway. I wanted him to know what he was missing, what he lost when he chose to bring her to our bed. I stripped my clothes off right there, before picking up my two weapons and continuing on my path towards vengeance.

As I reached the doorway I saw him thrust roughly two more times before letting out a moan all his own. I watched her wrap her legs around his hips and rock against him as she called his name out. The sight repulsed me, and gave me the resolve I needed to confront them.

I walked behind my beloved, pointing the gun at his head. The woman noticed me first and her eyes grew wide with panic.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her in the same loving tone he used with me every day.

“Get up.” I ordered as I shoved his head violently with the barrel of the pistol.

His hands went up immediately and he slowly slid off the edge of the mattress. Standing at the foot of the bed, he turned to face me, but my husband didn’t appear guilty of anything. His features held a playful look as he grinned from ear to ear.

“Now darling, we can talk-”

“On your knees.” I ordered again.

I knew that he could talk me out of anything, or into anything for that matter. I couldn’t give him the opportunity to twist my mind. He’d broken my heart, and now he needed to face the consequences.

My husband did as he was told, but his eyes never lost that giddy look. It was as if he thought I wasn’t being serious, like this was all just one big, extravagant game or a joke we’d laugh about later. I hated him even more for that.

“You too.” I barked in the direction of the bed where the blonde was cowering behind the blankets. “On your knees in front of him.”

The blonde quickly complied, but seemed nervous about letting the firearm out of view. It was hard not to notice her boobs were bigger than my own while she bounced around in her hast to do as I said. I felt inadequate, insecure, deceived, and more; all because of this one hussy. I stood behind her, placed the knife to her neck, and pulled her close to my own body.

The gun I kept on my husband, the man I had loved for so long. He still held that playful look and didn’t seem one bit bothered by the weapons. I despised him for being so calm while my world was being cast into chaos. I felt as though I were spiraling down a deep dark hole and he was mocking my decent from the top.

“You look ravishing love.” he cooed in a seductive way as his eyes raked over my exposed body.

I couldn’t help but take notice of his own naked form and his growing erection at seeing me. My desire for him only made my internal anguish more unbearable. I forced myself to focus only on his face so I wouldn’t loose my nerve.

“Too bad you already ravished her.” I replied coldly.

He smiled shyly, “Just trying to pass the time before you came home. You’re early by the way.”

I ignored his comment and tried pushing the conversation in a direction that better suited me.

“You like her, don’t you?” I asked knowingly.

“Not nearly as much as I like you.”

“Tell her everything is going to be ok.” I demanded.

He chuckled slightly. “You won’t hurt her, you certainly won’t hurt me darling. Lower the gun and we can talk about this.”

The blonde was whimpering to herself. I felt myself press the blade closer to her throat. It was an instinctive action, one made out of my need to get a grasp on the new revelation.

“Then you won’t be lying.” I told him through clenched teeth.

He didn’t say anything, although he stared at my eyes intently. Not once did he glance at the blonde and I felt a little victory at his lack of concern for her.

“Tell me slut,” I said as I looked down my nose to the other woman, “Did you enjoy having what is only mine to have?”

I pressed the knife closer still, and knew that I must have been drawing blood with the force. She shook her head ‘no’ and the denial threw me into an uproar.

“Don’t lie to me whore! I’ve been here for a while, listening to the two of you. Did you enjoy yourself!” I screamed as loud as my lungs would allow.

“Y-Yes.” she stampered. It sounded as though she might have been crying, but I couldn’t see her face to be sure. Then again, I didn’t really care if she was or not.

“How long have you two been sneaking around?” I asked her, but I received no response.

“How long!” I screamed down at her again.

“Only tonight.” my husband piped up. “I never spend more than one night with any other woman, and I never bother remembering their names. Its just entertainment love, until I can see you again.”

He spoke about his infidelity as if it were normal, but it wasn’t to me. It was a betrayal, a filthy secret I wished weren’t true.

“How many?” I asked weakly, my legs turning to jello beneath me and threatening to give way.

“Darling, it doesn’t matter. They are not important to me.” he assured.

It was clear he wouldn’t answer my question. We were married for nine years, together for three before that. How many could he have had in that time? One hundred? A thousand? I decided to go back to the beginning, back to my original demand.

“Tell her everything is going to be ok.” I said softly.

Finally, my husband appeared defeated and looked at the blonde for the first time since I made my presence known. I could feel her silent sobs as her body convulsed against my legs. She was trying hard to control herself, but failing miserably.

“Everything is going to be ok.” he told her calmly.

As he ended the sentence, I ended her life. I plunged the knife deeper into her neck until I could feel warm liquid coating my hand. Using my knee to apply pressure from the back, I pulled the blade up and towards me. I heard her windpipe pop as it was punctured and a shallow gurgling noise came next. Still I continued burying the knife into her flesh until she was nearly decapitated and only the spinal cord connected body to head.

My husband’s eyes widened in shock as crimson red liquid splattered his face, but it did not effect his hunny like voice.

“Now lovely, you’ve made quite a mess of things.” he mumbled while trying to wipe away the blood with his hand.

“Don’t worry,” I said coldly as I let her body slump to the floor, “Someone will be here soon to clean up the mess.”

With that I squeezed the trigger. I expected it to be like the movies, for there to be a small hole in his forehead with a minimal trickle of blood. Instead, his head nearly exploded from the back, sending brain matter, skull fragments, and chunks of hair in all directions. Both me and the surrounding walls were splattered with the chunky gore.

I fell to the ground afterwards and mourned all I lost that night. Curling up in a ball on the sticky floor, I stared at the blood that spread and seeped into nearly all corners of the small bedroom.

I knew the neighbors heard the gun shot. I knew they would call the police. I knew it was only a matter of time before they were here. I had just massacred two people. They would call me the monster, and I couldn’t exist in the sick nightmare anymore; not alone.

“Oh, my love.” I said through uncontrollable sobs as I turned the gun on myself, “I’m coming home early.”

Then I pulled the trigger.

© Sitarra “LullaDIEs” Sefton 


One response to “101 Psychos #3 – A Woman Scorned

  1. Pingback: 101 Psychos Table of Contents | LullaDIEs

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