The Dead's Revenge (1 Page Story)

A Chapter

     Lisa's husband, Charlie was as cruel as Satan himself. The everlasting demon that lurks within him tortured Lisa, raped and beats her up, seemingly her life was like a horror movie. Every single time Lisa had done wrong, she needs to be punished. Well, it counts in his rule book. And as disturbing as it sounds, while he was depressed at work and as his own boss continues to fuel he's anger, he's amusement came from hitting her. Bruises in her body were so common, the neighbors had sympathy for what is only a nil, as their involvement was. Lisa as a mother of three, was incredibly naive to an extent, that she thinks of herself as a troublesome and that her husband was always just. 

     During her past years before they got married, while they were still a mere couple, the dark persona that inhabits the conscience of Charlie, wasn't flaunted. Lisa truly remembers the man, of a brave and kind lad that never cease to amaze her--as he's ambience was such graceful, Lisa's heart and soul was filled with euphoria. And by the time she received that golden ring and said "yes" for what she think was eternal happiness, she was wishing "yes" for a wretched life.

     It was all a delusional dream to live happily ever after with Charlie, as her world and her prince charming was all but plastic. Lisa truly wishes that she could turn back time and undo everything. Although, she does love her kids and as they were luckily excluded from Charlie's wrath, she lead a miserable lifestyle; every morning she wakes up, and prepared breakfast for Charlie and the kids, cleans the messy corners of the house, did more chores after that, as well as cooking for dinner and finally, gets a hell of a beating at the middle of the night. She literally had reached a tipping point of her life where she was on the verge of committing suicide. But then, she finally found the perfect opportunity given to her, as if the gods gave her a chance of redemption.

     Charlie went to the doctors one day as he fainted during working hours and was diagnosed with lung cancer at the final stage. It was also the cause of his bad habit, smoking cigars all day. Obviously, the news made him rage exceedingly as he flipped the doctor's desk in the hospital. As the horror grows she gets a call from the doctor, that Charlie went berserk throughout the way home, thus it prepared Lisa for the worse. Nonetheless, she braced herself for the imminent pounding and belt whipping, whilst she sent her little ones off to her neighbors house--she did not want them to see the horror that might ensue.

     Unfortunately, she was beaten from noon till night. Such pain came, her nerves in her body lose their senses as her tears couldn't shed no more, it was horrific. It was hell. And as she endured the hell, she herself became the demon that Charlie had triggered that night. . .She waited for a month to do it, she was too wounded to do it yet, in addition to her strategic way of making sure Charlie was calm and had the cancer cells to help her out--the thought of murdering his husband in her own way, would truly mean the world for her.

     As the night came, Charlie as usual, would order Lisa to bring a glass of water for him to the nightstand. Given the opportunity, Lisa went to the kitchen whilst dropping powders of smashed sleeping pills into the glass and sent it in a tray. As she struggled to act calmly and not in a suspicious manner, Charlie fell for it, as he drank it whole and gulps it all at once. Lisa gave a wry smile upon looking at him, and she waited for him to fell asleep. A few minutes went by, and her hands was already trembling. She was ready as ever to kill him. All it takes, was to grip firmly around his throat till his body remain motionless and cold.

     Lisa glanced at the ceiling for awhile, rose up and instantly sits on Charlie, whilst pinning him down. She was really playing it safe, by tying both of his hands and legs with a rope on to the four pillars of the bed. Lisa's face was different that night, she made a smirk so disturbing, she resembled the face of a psychopath. She held her hands at a height, as if she was taking her time, the joy of finally ending her misery, soon to be one of her cherry sweet memories in the past. She gripped his neck ever so tightly, and squeeze the life out of him. She could prevent blood from entering his brains, or she might just suffocate him until he dies--but no, she wanted to break his neck with her bare hands.