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Christian and The Devil

He struggled against the bindings....

By Leah DeweyPublished 3 years ago 4 min read
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Christian and The Devil
Photo by Alexander Jawfox on Unsplash

She did her best to wipe the sleep from her eyes as she stepped out of her car into the brisk evening air. She paused for a moment to admire the beauty of the moon before dragging her heavy body to the front door. With just a bit too much force she shoved the key into the lock and noticed the house was strangely quiet. As she pushed the door open she dropped her keys and bags onto the floor to try to better grasp the image in front of her. Her mouth went dry and her eyes started to turn wet.

“Welcome home, Delilah,” she said with a smirk.

“Candace? What are you doing? What’s going on?” Delilah questioned. She started to move forward but Candace moved the hunters knife just a little, enough to draw blood from Christian’s neck. Delilah’s eyes darted back and forth between Christian’s pained face and Candace’s. Candace however remained still and eerily calm.

“I’m just taking back what’s rightfully mine. Serving up a little payback,” Candace answered with a slight chuckle.

“What?” Delilah’s question was barely audible past her dried out lips. Flashes of recollection starting to fill her mind, making her feel almost a bit dizzy.

“So you’re going to what? Kill him? If you can’t have him then no one can?” Delilah inched forward keeping her hands up and visible. Candace twisted the knife but didn’t push farther. Candace let out a belly laugh that echoed through the hollow house.

“You really think I’d want him back after what he did? Don’t kid yourself. But that doesn’t mean he can’t suffer for what he did, for what you both did.” Candace answered, momentarily lifting the knife to point it at Delilah.

“That’s what you want? To hurt us? Fine, hurt us. But neither one of us ever wanted to hurt you, Candace. We didn’t mean for this to happen. But your relationship was - ”

“Don’t say ‘dead’, bitch. Don’t say it. I could have saved it, we could have been okay if he didn’t have something better waiting for him if he stopped trying.”

Christian moaned and struggled against the tie in his mouth and his bindings. His first real sign of life since Delilah walked in.

“Oh, now you want to speak? Months of therapy and trying to save our marriage you were silent but now you want to speak?” Candace and Christian exchanged an uncomfortable glance. Eventually, Candace rolled her eyes and pulled down the rag in his mouth.

“I would have left anyway. You want to kill me for that, do it. But leave her alone, please.” Christian nodded towards Delilah, causing fresh tears to fall from her eyes. Equally, a deeper rage filled up in Candace’s eyes. Abruptly, Candace stabbed the knife into Christian’s heart with all the force her tiny body could muster.

Delilah fell to her knees as blood started to cover most of Christian’s body and pour out his mouth. Her eyes flooded while life slowly left his. She knew she must have screamed but the house seemed silent, noiseless and timeless in this moment.

The look on her face told Delilah that Candace instantly regretted what she had done but there was nothing she could do now to take it back. Simultaneously both women launched at each other. Delilah punched hard connecting with Candace’s right cheek bone. She could feel it shatter under the pressure of her knuckles. Candace came back and gripped Delilah’s hair, pulling her to the ground. Candace jumped on top of her and started to punch her face. Delilah swung her leg out and knocked Candace to the ground. Before Candace could move Delilah reached up, now inches from Christian’s lifeless body, and pulled the knife out. As Candace rose to her feet Delilah sliced across her neck. Candace fell forward crushing Delilah between her and Christian.

Delilah didn’t know how long she just sat there in shock, soaked in tears and blood. The realization that her life was completely destroyed and gone was sinking in deep, hollowing her out inside.

Slowly, Delilah pushed Candace to the side and shivered as her body made a haunting thud against the floor. She pulled off her clothes and dragged herself into the shower. She took her time, letting the water fall down on her and washing away all the pain along with the blood. When she emerged she carefully dressed while packing the small duffle she kept in the closet. She paused for a moment looking at his side of the closet, neatly lined and arranged shirts for the office along with his regular t-shirts. She stared for several moments before deliberately pulling down her favorite of his shirts, shoving them into her bag as well and grabbing his old leather jacket. She threw the jacket over her bruised shoulders and moved back to the front of the house, the bag on her back.

As cautiously as she could without touching any blood she moved to kiss Christian one last time.

“Good bye, my love,” she said quietly, pulling away and taking the keys out of his pocket.

She opened the door to the garage and lifted the garage door letting in the cool of the night. She closed her eyes, soaking in the feeling, it had started to sprinkle. She picked up her pink helmet and jumped onto Christian’s favorite motorcycle. If she drove through the night she could be in Canada by morning.

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About the Creator

Leah Dewey

I am a novelist with a Masters in Forensic Psychology. I have experience writing in many formats. Follow me down into the dark corners of imagination. Experience thrills & chills through poetry & short stories.

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