It was an old story. He was a workaholic with a perfect wife who was perfectly bored. He came home early one day to find another man having sex with his wife. Even the resulting two murders, of the wife and the other man, were part of an old and tired story. It was there, however, that the old story took a bit of a turn. But before we get to the strange turn, we must drive through the familiar, for that is the only way we can hope to understand the strange…
Ben woke up in his comfortable bed with the familiar warmth of his wife next to him. It was morning, but a weekday. The alarm had not yet made its maddening noise, but Ben’s internal clock knew that it would go off at any m-
The alarm began blaring its annoying siren with child like insistence. “Alarm off,” Ben said, “I’m awake.” Claire stirred next to him.
“Are you sure you would like to turn the alarm off? Or would you like to snooze for seven minutes?” asked his alarm in the polite, slightly arrogant tone that all electronic brains seemed to adopt.
“I’m sure,” said Ben, sitting up to show the alarm he meant it. Ben left the warmth of his bed and wandered off to the bathroom. He relieved himself, then washed his hands and splashed some water in his face. He came back into the bedroom and Claire was getting up as well, instructing the curtains to pull back and let the budding sunlight in. Ben slipped an arm around her waist and kissed her, “Good morning.”
“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” she asked.
“Like a rock. I’m going to get in the shower first, is that cool?”
“That’s fine, I’m going to make the bed then I’ll come join you.”
“Can’t wait,” he said with a smile. He gave her another kiss then walked over to the shower, already running and beginning to steam. He stepped in and began washing. A few minutes later Claire came and got in with him. They made love briefly, not having the time to fully express themselves, but enjoying it nonetheless.
Once they were both clean they climbed out of the shower, hot air blasting through the bathroom to dry them off. They each finished cleaning and getting ready for the day, then each got dressed before going down to have breakfast. Breakfast was waiting for them in the kitchen when they came down, a sensible yet tasty assortment of fresh meats and vegetables, accompanied by juice and a cup of coffee. Over breakfast they made small talk about the day’s plans.
“I may have to work late again tonight, but I should be home in time for dinner,” Ben explained, “It’s that damn Aveonare shipping venture, they want things done so quickly, but they don’t get that the Kingdom has certain protocols that must be met. I swear, it’d be easier trying to get the Pelagians to take a deep breath than the Aveonares,” Ben complained. Claire just smiled and looked at her news feed. Ben stared at her for a moment, then smiled, “what’s your plan for the day?” he finally asked.
“I think I’m going to start research on what’s necessary for that DIY project I want to do.”
“The garden reading spot? That will be nice. I still think we should build a bar for the patio, though,” Ben said with a rye smile. Claire rolled her eyes with a smile.
“You just want that so you can live out your fantasy of owning your own bar,” she chided playfully.
“Pub,” he corrected, “and what’s wrong with that? I think it would be a lot of fun. It certainly wouldn’t be boring.”
“Go to work,” she said with a smile. He grumbled, but downed the last of his coffee and grabbed his jacket.
“Alright, have a good day, I’ll see you tonight,” he said as he kissed her one last time and walked out the door.
* * *
Work was tedious. More tedious than usual. It had been too long since Ben had a vacation and his burnout was in full bloom. He tried to look at the documents in front of him, tried to concentrate on the memo he was composing, but the more he looked at the words in front of him the less he actually saw those words and the more he just saw… well, anything else.
He made it to lunch, stood in line for a burrito. Ate his burrito and soda then went back to work, feeling thoroughly unsatisfied. He sat down at his desk and looked at the same documents at which he had been staring for the better part of four hours before lunch. He didn’t even make it past the first sentence before he stopped, looked at the entirety of the document for a few seconds, then looked up at his desk, taking in all of the work lying on it. “Fuck it,” he said out loud, putting a few things away, grabbing his jacket and walking over to his boss’s office.
He knocked on the door then peeked in. His boss was reading a similar looking document to the one that had been plaguing Ben all morning. “Hey Boss,” he said apologetically as his boss looked up at him, “my wife just called, apparently our maintenance system is on the fritz or something, I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but something about a pipe busting and flooding the basement. Anyway, is it alright if I take the afternoon and help her fix this?”
“Oh,” his boss said with surprise, “that sounds like a terrible time. Yeah go ahead, if I need anything from you here I’ll give you a call, but you should be fine.”
“Thanks, I really appreciate this,” Ben said sincerely.
“It’s fine, just let me know how it goes.”
“Will do,” Ben said, giving the wall a tap and getting out of there before more questions could be asked.
* * *
Ben walked up to his front door feeling great. It was so nice to not be at work, and when the sun was still up in the sky, no less. He couldn’t wait to grab Claire, give her a kiss and then jump in the car and go somewhere. He wasn’t sure where, yet, he had a few ideas, each just a little crazier than the last. Maybe they would go into the city and catch a show, maybe they would just wander around and do stupid touristy stuff and eat street food, maybe the city was too pedestrian, maybe they could hope a shuttle and head off to-
There was a noise. One, brief little noise like a wounded cat landing on the floor with a whimper. They didn’t own a cat though, and Ben’s heart thumped. One, brief little pump of his heart that felt like a punch to his throat. Somehow in that heart pump he knew that the noise was Claire, and the noise was wrong. It was wrong like a surprise new piece of furniture in your living room, like someone had stolen your pillow off your bed. Ben knew the noises in his home, the normal ones made by his wife or the house itself, and this noise was wrong.
Ben dropped his jacket and quietly came up to his front door, listening for more. He put his hand on the door handle, it immediately recognizing his hand print and unlocked the door. With the door half open he heard another, short gasp. It came from the kitchen. Ben quietly moved in that direction, his heart now pounding steady as he began to numbly recognize the sound of panting, and then another gasp for air. The gasp and the panting overlapped, and he realized there were two people in the kitchen. He recognized the gasping as his wife’s, he had heard it so many times before, memories poisonously, sickeningly sweet right now.
He rounded the corner to the kitchen and saw his greatest fear. They were facing away from Ben, her shirt still on but pants at her ankles, he dressed the same. She was bent over the kitchen table as his bare ass was pumping away. She was barely moving, forehead against the table top, he was pushing her down onto the table with one arm and holding onto the table for stability with the other. For a shockingly long time, what seemed like days, months, ages, Ben stood in the doorway and did nothing, watching them in pure shock.
Now pay attention because this is where things turn. The police didn’t see the turn for the strange because they were too shocked by the spectacle of the result. The judge didn’t see it either, nor did the reporters. They all saw the same thing, the familiar story mixed with the horror of the scene, and they clung to the familiar to help them deal with the horror. Ben didn’t even see it, not at first.
As Ben stood there, watching in shocked disbelief, his brain began to reject the horror of what his eyes were reporting. His vision began to blur, but he dared not blink. Instead, he began losing sight of the two half naked bodies pumping away in his kitchen, and instead began to see nothing but a clean, unblemished sheet of red descend over his vision. It didn’t drop from top to bottom like a stage curtain, but rather coalesced around the edges of his vision, and closed around the center of his sight, leaving the man’s naked ass as the last thing he saw.
It was a long time before Ben saw anything but that red sheet. He didn’t hear anything either. He didn’t hear himself give a low sickening howl, like a rabid wolf. He didn’t see himself walk quickly up to the man as he turned from Claire. Ben didn’t see the man crumble under his blows as he pounded mercilessly. He didn’t see Claire look up from the table top to see Ben on top of the half naked man, beating him. Ben didn’t see Claire look at him and smile, whispering “You seem so surprised.”
Ben didn’t see himself turn from the bloody hulk that used to be the half naked man and look at his half naked wife, standing there. He didn’t see her smile slowly disappear as she saw his rage-blind eyes. He didn’t see her own eyes turn to fear as he stood and began walking towards her. He couldn’t watch himself hit her, he couldn’t watch himself tear at her or hear her scream in fear and pain.
Ben saw and heard none of this. He came out of it all what must have been hours later, sitting in a sticky, bloody heap on the floor of his kitchen, congealed blood everywhere. In the end the bodies were barely recognizable as human, let alone as the individuals they used to be. Ben didn’t know what happened, so he let people fill in the blanks for him. It would not be for a long time that he learned the truth of it, and by then, well, it was too late.