His Dark Secret

The vacuum sucked at my husband’s man cave. Why did he have to make such a mess? The door creaked open. Usually it was locked. It looked like a normal space. A large television hung over a black fireplace. However there was a strange layer of dust on it. A strange light illuminated from the floor in the form of a square. The thick white carpet shifted loosely beneath my feet. Old wood greeted my copper eyes. Curiosity forced me to open it. Cautiously, I looked back to see no one. Horror filled my eyes when I saw piles of human bodies and skeletons at the bottom of the room. A scream stuck in my throat as I hurriedly put everything back. Just as the door shut, Darren, my husband came home.

“Work let me come home early.” He cheerfully announced sitting at the oak dining room table. “What have you been up to this morning?” His green eyes glared into mine. Gulping, my eyes examined his odd hazmat suit.

“Why are you dressed like that?” I asked, looking for the front door. “I thought you had a meeting today. I just have to go get some groceries. I was going to make you your favorite dinner tonight.” Clearing his throat, he pulled me close to him.

“Why don’t we just order take out tonight.” He protested, circling me. “I am craving Chinese.” Shaking my head, I bolted towards the front door. Sighing, he sank a needle into my neck. The world spun around me until blackness swallowed me.

“Wakey, Wakey.” My husband’s voice teased, his hand tracing my cheek. “I can’t have you telling my secrets.” Plastic surrounded me as a bright light blinded me. My hourglass figure was stripped of my clothes. Panic ran through my mind, as I looked for a way out. Zip ties cut into my skin, burning my wrist.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone.” I begged loudly. “I am your wife, and can’t testify against you anyways.” Thoughtfulness dotted his pale face. Shaking his head, an evil smile darkened his face. Shit, it didn’t work.

“Problem is that we aren’t actually married.” He explained, cleaning a long machete. “You see, my real name isn’t Darren. It is Michael Straittos, the Machete Slicer. Those girls in that hole are the ones I haven’t gotten rid of. Soon enough you will join them.” My eyebrows furrowed, making my forehead wrinkle. Throbbing, my eyes finally saw what I was in. White sterile lights blinded my eyes. A round black bed sat in the back of the room. A red light blinked at me, taunting me. He records his victims right before he offs them. Great, why did I have to look?

“What is the bed for?” I inquired meekly already knowing the answer. “I promise I won’t tell a soul.” A soft chuckle rolled off of his tongue, making my blood run cold.

“Oh, that!” He gloated, looking back at it. “It is your bed for the next nine months. You are the one that will mother all of my children as long as you are a good girl.” Anger boiled in my veins, watching him pat the bed. A light bulb dinged above my head, praying to God that this works.

“Why wait for it?” I suggested sheepishly. “Why not start now? I just want to be the good girl you need. You just need to get the zip ties off my wrist for me to enjoy it.” Confusion twisted his face. His strong hand marched me to the bed. Shaking, I waited for my moment. He hovered above me when my foot met his member. Howls poured out of his thin lips, as I jumped up and sprinted to the metal ladder. A sharp piece of metal was in front of my face. The plastic creaked until it fell at my feet. Relief washed over me as I climbed up the ladder into my house. Fear froze my veins as the lights flickered out, covering me in darkness. God he was a psycho. My hands banged against the walls until I felt a jacket. The wool felt soft against my skin as it slid over my shoulder. Also it told me that I was close to the front door.

“Come on out, little rabbit!” He hollered furiously. “I always get my prey.” My heart pounded out of my chest, making it hard to breathe. My fingers wrapped around the handle. Closing my eyes, a click echoed throughout the empty house. Blue moonlight flooded into my home bathing the streets ahead of me. Blisters formed on my bare feet, aching as I bolted to my blue station wagon. Keys, I forgot my keys. Darren, I mean Michael ran to my window. His eyes were black and soulless. Glass exploded all over me as the machete smashed through my window. His yellow gloved hand reached for the lock. Glove box, I have a gun in the glove box. Frantically, my shaking hands searched for the gun. Horror widened my eyes at Micheal. The gun was waving in his hand. Anxiety made me jump out of the other side.

“Help!” I screamed, sprinting down the street. “I am being attacked.” Bullets whizzed by my head. A neighbor pulled me into her lovely home. Tears started to flow down my puffy face.

Bang, Bang! His fist pounded on the door.

“Give her back, or you both die!” He growled aggressively. “I have no problem doing it. After all, you ladies aren’t the first victims.” The door burst open revealing my husband wielding his machete. Boom! A bullet whizzed by head and in between his eyes. With a thud, he crumpled to the ground. We turned to see my neighbor’s brother holding a gun, and shaking. Shock darkened his brown eyes. Red and blue lights flooded the streets, as her brother numbly sat down on the steps. Sitting down next to him, my arms wrapped around his quivering body.

“Thank you for saving us.” I blurted out between sobs. “We would be dead without you.” Nodding numbly, we waited for the cops to approach us. The only problem was that I was already pregnant.