I pull into the driveway from another late night. I walk in to find all the lights are out, as usual. My wife must already be in bed and asleep. It's late and I'm tired, so I figure I might as well go to bed too. I don't even bother turning on the lights anymore, I can navigate my way through this house blind. Besides, I don't want to wake the wife. The bedroom door creaks as it opens, and I inch my way to the side of the bed and crawl in. I move close to my wife and wrap my arm around her. I know she's asleep, but I somehow feel her embrace me as I hold her. I slowly drift to sleep, with the love of my life asleep in my arms.
I slowly begin to wake up when I find my love is no longer in my arms, or in bed for that matter. I open my eyes to see her entire side of the bed is covered in dried, crusty blood. I panic and looked to the floor to see bloody footprints and drips of blood leading out the room. I frantically get up to follow the footprints and search for my wife. As I approach the door, I decide to take one last look at the room. As I turn around, I see my once beautiful wife sliced open and mutilated, nailed to the wall behind my bed. Beside her, painted in her blood across the wall, were the words, "Thanks for holding me, but maybe next time you should turn on a light when you come in."
