A tree called vengeance - Digging to its roots - Part III

(NOTE -- Please read in the order the story is posted... from Part I)


Getting caught red handed when cheating on the husband is a good enough reason to commit suicide. And Stella was caught in that situation, by her hapless husband, Brandon Foster which is me.

I didn’t say anything after that incident. I came back home at around midnight. I sat there on the chair in the living room. Stella is still in the bedroom. I am thinking whether to do it or not. I close my eyes, swallow my saliva and send out a long sigh and stand up with determinantion in my eyes that yes, I am going to do it.

I walk inside the bedroom. Lock the door. I look at her. She’s scared. She wouldn’t have been scared as much had I not walked in with 10 ft long rope. I pull the drawer and put on the gloves. She starts to scream as she came to know my intentions for her. Hm. When I built this house I wanted my bedroom to be completely sound proof because I didn’t want anyone outside to hear my wife’s screaming when she and I are having a great time. Now it is coming to my rescue in a completely different way. Her cries are not heard outside.

I make a ring out of the rope. It is ready to take it’s prey. Stella now knowing that her cries wouldn’t help her, tries to run towards the door. I pull her by the arms and push her to the ground. Before she gets up, I am on her. I turn her body face down. I tore her night gown and use it to tie her hands behind the back. I shouldn’t not forget to change her dress and burn her torn off gown soon after I am done.

I throw the other end of the rope to the hook in the ceiling. Hang is ready in the middle of the room. I pull and check if it’s strong enough. It looks it is.

I look at her. She looks like a fish taken out of water with all her struggling. I just wonder why humans fight so much when it is completely clear that you’re going to die. You can’t avoid the inevitable, sometimes.

She’s beautiful. After all she’s the woman I fell in love at the first sight. Beauty is such a bitch. It makes you go distance to make it yours and then you go even further to destroy it.

I take out one of dresses from the wardrobe and change her gown with this one. I take all the pieces of gown and put it in the bag. That bag will have all the evidences that would tell point me as the killer. Only thing is, it will be burnt before the world knows about Stella’s death.

At 3.05 am, exactly after 12 hours after the incident which brought us to this point, I made her stand on the chair and put the hang around her neck and pull the chair underneath her legs. She rattles her legs and makes her final efforts to stay alive. Gradually she seemed to loose energy. She looks horrible. But she looked even more horrible when I saw her with him. For the last time she kicks her leg in the air. Then she’s silent. She doesn’t move. I burn all the things that need to be including my gloves.

Before I leave the room I take a look at her. Bitch. How could she do it to me? How could she cheat on me despite all the love I bestowed on her? She deserved to die the death of bitch.

I come out of the room. I pick up the phone and call Francis.