Her usual lavender scent filled me again, but all I could think of was the smell of the decomposing skull in the secret room. Her voice reaching my eardrums but all that came to mind were the screams of her victims as the coup de grace was delivered. The sight of her beautiful appearance, replaced by the illusion of a woman whose hands have been stained by the blood of innocent men who only wanted to know that they were worthy of love. I just needed one thing so that I could justify my actions and I knew the very means of obtaining that evidence.
“Dear, would you mind jotting down something for me?”
“Sure honey, what is it? Hold on, let me get a piece of paper and pen.”
As she finished writing, she gave it to me and asked what it was for. I studied it carefully, looked at her in the eyes for one last time and it was then I knew that it was the right thing to do.
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