Their Wife

Chapter-32

Ralph let out a ferocious chuckle as his fists collided with the man's face.

'This world could never be a better place, you have to become worse to survive.'

Another harsh blow landed on the man's face. Ralph didn't stop, his heart pounding loudly and the voice in his head whispering. Taunting laughs, mocking glances. He couldn't forget it.

'Fire when consumes you, you are no longer afraid of the heat.'

The man's low unheard grunts, his fist colliding with the man's face, blood splattered all over the floor, his barely moving body. Ralph felt it all and nothing simultaneously. The blood in his veins roaring, searing with rage, with resentment and anger pent up for seventeen years. Blood. He needed more blood.

Breaking heavily he grabbed the small blade placed on the table and flipped it open. His mother's lifeless body dancing in front of his eyes, her wide green eyes dead and cold, blood oozing through her head, the white dress she adored now drenched in blood. Her blood. He shut his eyes.

The horrid memories flahsing through his head like a reel, the whispers in his ears screeching loudly. He clenched his jaw and snapped opened his eyes. His chest rising up and down rapidly, nostrils flaring as he ran his bloody hand through his hair. The soft brown tendrils turning a shade darker as blood began dripping down his hands. The pain becoming his companion, the bleeding sensation calming him. He took several deep breaths.

The helpless man lay crumpled on the cold floor, whimpering and gasping for air as his lungs seemed to drain away. Ralph felt his veins roaring with joy.

Ralph let out a cruel laugh, his clenched fist tightly grasping the sharp blade. The weight of the weapon felt oddly comforting in his hand, urging him to inflict more pain and suffering. He forcefully drove the blade deeper into the man's already wounded chest, causing fresh waves of agony to course through his trembling body.

As the blade tore through flesh and muscle, Ralph's eyes fixated with a disturbing intensity on the man's abdomen, his hand moving meticulously to make a long, gory incision down the center. As the sharp metal sliced through the delicate tissues, crimson rivers of blood flowed freely, marring the previously pristine floor. The agonized cries that erupted from the wounded man echoed throughout the basement, reverberating with a certain horrifying beauty.

Perhaps it was the sight of his victim's suffering or the amplification of his own twisted desires, but something within Ralph stirred with dark satisfaction. The whispers in his head slowly faded into an eerie silence, replaced by the sheer intensity of the man's bone-chilling screams. Each piercing cry seemed to fuel Ralph's sickening enjoyment, as if they were the sick symphony that his soul craved.

His eyes, glazed with a sadistic pleasure, fixated on the ongoing carnage. Every drop of blood, every convulsive whimper became a twisted source of sweet harmony for him.

*****

RARA's POV

The second I close my eyes, the memories play. The panic attack I had at the table, Alexei's warm embrace. It's as if each moment, passed slowly and painfully. The overwhelming panic attack unexpectedly struck me while I was seated at the table. Alexei's warm embrace.

Ah...how I could still feel the intensity of that visceral moment. The room seemed to shrink, the air becoming suffocatingly heavy as each breath became an enormous struggle. My heart raced mercilessly against my chest, its rapid beats reverberating through my entire being. In that moment of desperation, it was as if time itself stood still, my senses heightened to an almost unbearable level.