She sat on his leather couch, perfect. Her hair had been styled straight, high heels were on, and smudge-less make up. The knife was hidden behind her, easing its sharpened needle against the skin which covered her spine. Marissa was perfect.
This was no special night to them. After 17 years of marriage, Marissa and Ted went on plenty of dates. She was his trophy wife to show off to the world. So they went extravagant, within their means. He was a lawyer who'd been scooped up by a big firm and was good enough that he got one of those temperaments. The one where it was okay to leave her all alone. Success was what mattered more, after all, they wanted to keep their lifestyle, said Ted.
Sometimes Marissa just wanted to stab him.
She let that go most of the time. Until Ted fucked his paralegal. The both of them knew. To sabotage their coworker's productivity? Well if she were one of his workers she would do anything as well. And when word reached the wives it didn't take long for the news to travel down the grapevine...she was a pretty blonde after all, pretty slutty. This was supposed to be some sort of makeup.
Marissa was perfect.
"Hello, my bear," said she when he was ready.
Ted was wearing one of the many suits he wore out with clients. Of course. Marissa swore she could smell the slut over his cologne. He had a smile plastered on his face, but to her it was as false as a businessman to his wife. That's what Ted was, after all, the provider of a service. A spinner of bullshit. But he wouldn't pull that tonight. He was a good lawyer, all except for now.
The smile was back. "Shall we leave now, Marissa?"
Marissa was perfect.
"No," she said, as she stood up and pulled out the kitchen knife.
It was a German blade, from a set she had bought his last Christmas. She thought it would encourage him to cook, to unwind. But he chose another way to do that, and she was the one who ended up cooking for the two of them after work. Not that he ever ate his food warm. It was always cold leftovers that found their way to work, like a "look at what my wife cooked me" kind of trophy. Or perhaps he threw it in the trash. She knew the slut didn't cook, though, with the amount of time they spent fucking each other.
Ted seemed amazed that she pulled out the blade, still suspended, and she took no time to go straight for his balls. He howled like an un-urbanized creature as his body bent over to recover. The blood stained his suit and for once, Marissa felt the thick cloud of an unnamable set of emotions lift from her head. She took the bloodied knife in her hand and drove it into the ball socket of his shoulder. The crack of his bones reminded her of the opening of a wrapper, perhaps one for condoms.
Blood splattered across the walls as he began to try to run, fight back, anything but be there with that woman. Marissa saw him start to go for the phone to call the police and so she dropped it to the floor, and bent down like a knight in the knighting process, and jabbed it with the bloodied steel. She threw her heels off, and thought for a moment of using that as a weapon instead, but she liked the idea of for once being the one who chose who to stab.
Ted making it for the door, was too slow to feel Marissa's heel press into his shoulder as she took that opportunity to push him into his home office. He landed with his face in his laptop and his ass sticking out. Marissa took this as another opportunity. She slit the seams at the back of his pants and drove the knife up his asshole. He always liked a good ass fucking when he was with her. So she was doing her duty as a wife and giving it to him.
"Marissa!" screamed Ted, "What're you doing?"
His sudden plea to her seemed only to enrage her more. Marissa was back under the cloud of emotion, and she did not want to be there. So she took her heel and drove it into his back as she spun him around. Bloodied legal documents flew all over the room like sheets and even though he had the opportunity to defend himself from her out of adrenaline, Marissa was faster. As if she were a vampire hunter, she staked his heart with her knife and felt no more pressure to her shoulders. She noticed his hands had left her and that he was beginning to slump.
Marissa took the knife and began to stab. She was angry that he had not suffered more. Like the days had passed her so fast when she was alone, splatter splatter splatter. There was dripping and liquid noises everywhere. Her face was covered in the candy of his blood. The viscous candy, like chocolate.
When she was done she took his tie and wiped the handle of the knife down clean. The cloud of emotion was gone, and it felt good. Marissa liked the stabbing feeling. She was the one in control. And she wanted to do it again. She could do it again. Marissa wasn't old. She was a young maiden, who's epiphany seemed to come to her in the moment that she stabbed that pig. She could do it again if she wanted to. And she knew she would. There would be no trouble finding another man.
Marissa was perfect.
