DEMENTIA

Chapter 4

There was something strange about the howling outside that made me uneasy. I couldn’t discern
what animal was capable of such a loathsome, pitiful wailing, nor could I distinguish from which direction
it came. My ears fell prey to the beguiling trickery of the droning winds, and at times the sound seemed to
be all around me. What disturbed me most was the eerie familiarity of those forlorn cries. Something
buried under the constant murmur of the approaching storm haunted me, but other things weighed heavily
on my mind. I stared out the window, watching the barren autumn trees battling to stay erect against the
angry forces of the assaulting winds. Their naked limbs flailed frantically as they struggled to remain afloat
in the midst of the onslaught. I was startled by the initial droplets of rain that splashed violently against the
window. But what I saw wasn’t water; what I saw was blood, the same splatters of blood I had seen in my
head a thousand times while listening to his gruesome tales.
“How did you come to be the monster you are?” I asked him in one of our final conversations.
“We all have our demons, my friend,” he replied. “You have yours, and I have mine. We are not so
different, you and I.”
“I am nothing like you.”
“Oh, on the contrary, you killed your wife, remember?”
“I didn’t kill her; it was an accident.”
“My dear friend, there are no accidents. Surely you won’t try to deny now what you revealed to
me when first we spoke. You admitted freely that you found no sorrow in her demise, and, in fact, that you
even wished her dead. It’s alright; I don’t blame you for your murderous hatred, and neither would any man
worth his salt.” There was a long pause before he continued, as if he were waiting for me to refute what
was just said. For some reason unknown to me, I didn’t. I just sat there dumbfounded until his next message
flashed upon my monitor. “Do you really want to know what it was that forced my hand to murder?”
“Yes,” I replied, and again there was a pause like he was collecting himself.
“I, too, once foolishly gave my heart to a woman as you did. I stood in front of her God and her
family, and I pledged my undying love and loyalty. I slipped a gold ring on her finger as a symbol of that
love, and I swore to honor and cherish her ‘til death do us part, and she promised these same things to me
in return. I was an honorable and faithful husband. Never once did I stray from my vows. I worked hard to
give her everything she wanted, and do you know how she repaid me while I spent those long hours
working to give her a better life? She invited another man into my house, into the sanctity of my bed! The
same bed where we slept and consummated our marriage! The same sheets I wrapped around my weary
body after a hard day of work were soiled with the sweat of another man’s passion. The same lips that
pledged eternal loyalty to me were tainted by another’s sinful touch. Then she had the audacity to lay that
foul, contaminated mouth upon mine! I am no stranger to the pain and suffering caused by a woman’s
betrayal, my friend. I have endured the same humiliation as you; I just chose to confront it like a man,
rather than cowering and holding it inside. The demons had found me and they wouldn‘t give me peace
until they were appeased. ” Again there was a significant pause before he continued. “I decided to take her
for a little ride.”
I waited for him to elaborate further on his method, but the words had ceased to appear. This
wasn’t like him. Cain was always so enthusiastic and meticulous in his descriptions, and he was seldom at a
loss for words. I began to feel that this was a very traumatic memory for him. I sensed his reluctance to
continue meant he still wasn’t over the pain of his wife’s betrayal. For one brief moment, I pitied him.
“What do you mean you took her for a ride?” I finally ventured to ask.
“I drove her to a little place I knew, out in the middle of nowhere. I can still see the smug look on
her face as I explained my knowledge of her betrayal. She didn’t even deny the accusation, and she showed
no remorse or shame for her unforgivable actions. At one point during the confrontation, she actually
laughed at me. I’m sure you can imagine my angst. This wanton whore had disgraced my honor and then
laughed in my face as I expressed the pain and torment I suffered at her adultery. I could bear no more of
her whimsical amusement at my pain; the mirth she displayed at my suffering was like pouring salt in the
wounds. Even to this day I can feel the sting as her cackling laughter echoes in my mind. The demons had
spoken, and at that moment I knew she must be punished.
The first blow was invigorating. I brought my fist downward against her cheek, hard, nearly
knocking her unconscious. Her laughter stopped immediately, but my rage had yet to subside. The second
blow was better than the first, but I still wasn’t sated. I began pummeling her repeatedly, expelling my rage
and frustration with every blow, intoxicated by the feel of her delicate bones crushing under the force of my
fist. But it wasn’t enough. How could I possibly make her feel the humiliation she so willingly visited upon
me? Her head bobbed awkwardly against the head rest, and she struggled to remain conscious. Her body
battered and broken, and her face bruised and bloodied, did little to comfort me. I reached into the console
for the hunting knife I kept for protection. I grabbed a handful of her blood-matted hair and pulled her head
back. Her pulse thumped weakly beneath the flesh of her slender neck. I made sure she could see the razor-
sharp edge coming towards her, and with one swift movement, I slit her throat.
I remember the ecstasy I felt when the blade sliced cleanly into the flesh and opened her jugular. I
remember the euphoria that overcame me as the warm rivulets of blood ejaculated with every beat of her
black, dying heart. I rejoiced in her gurgled pleas for help and watched with pleasure as the gushing streams
turned to a trickle. I left her there to rot like the pig she was. I was reborn, my friend. She made me what I
am today, and I swear I will never again be the victim of a woman’s treachery.”