Before I share this, I just want anyone that reads this to know that I love my wife. I love her so much.
We have been having troubles for the past few years. She desperately wants children.. I do as well, I guess. We went to clinics and doctors and therapists. And she cried and moaned and I held her because I knew that this must be so hard for her. I stroked her hair and kissed her and promised her that we would find a way.
But I found something.
I made her a small shed in our garden, sort of a studio, for her painting. She loves to paint. I don't like to disturb her though, her studio is her place. Just like my "man cave" is mine. I don't know why I was so curious, she was away for the morning, driving to a gallery a few hours away. So I went in.
God I love my wife, but those paintings. They were... creepy. That's the only word. Each one was of a family; a father, a mother... and a baby. And I realised that each one was us, huddled together, smiling. But the resemblance wasn't what scared me. It was the baby itself. On each canvas the baby was a deep red, aggressively painted against the serene family behind it. Yet still noticeably a baby, so tiny.
I didn't stop looking around, I opened the door in the studio to the tiny broom cupboard sized room that usually held paints and brushes. I opened it and I could hardly comprehend what I was seeing, I don't think I ever will. And I don't know what to do, I feel like I don't know her anymore. I feel like I married a stranger. And i'm scared. I'm fucking scared.
I love my wife... But those tiny bodies. Those crushed fetuses, smeared with that deep crimson blood used as a... as a fucking tool. There were so many twisted little babies... all rotting in that cupboard.
Credits To: CobraInYoFace
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Mystery / Thriller𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜. 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚐𝚎. 𝚢...