Marital Problems

My day started badly when my wife came home late, she had been dismembering some paedophile piece of work in her murder house but had got caught by the traffic on the return journey. As she walked through the door, wiping her shoes on the matt, I called out from the adjoining lounge in a hushed whisper, "Hey Darling. Rough day?"

She sighed as she said "Urgh, traffic was murder." Then she noticed our son in my arms and lowered her voice, "Sorry... How's my little killer?"

I smirked, "Well I'm doing okay... oh you mean the kid?

Seeing my wife smile is the one of the best sights in the world, second only to chopping a guy in half with an axe.

"Well his fever's gone down, and it seems that he may finally sleep through the night."

"Outstanding!" My wife began gently stroking our son's hair, thinking like me about how amazingly lucky we were to have such a beautiful boy.

"Do you want me to take over?"

"No... it's fine, I got him. I left you some dinner to reheat."

"Okay... just so long as you haven't poisoned it."

I tried not to laugh, thinking it best not to wake our son.

A few hours later, after I had put our son down in his cot, I made sure that the baby monitor was turned on - you can't be too careful, there's some dangerous people out there. I headed down to the lounge. My lovely wife was busy flicking through what film to watch on the streaming services.

"What d'you wanna watch tonight?" She asked with the remote in hand.

I collapsed on the sofa next to her. "Nothing too scary. And nothing made by HBO... I can't handle all that gratuitous violance."

"So... nothing by Disney either then?"

"Ha Ha(!)" I answered sarcastically putting my arm round her and giving her a kiss. "What about something... romantic?" Before she could answer there was a knock on front door went.

"Who's that at this time of night?" I complained in irritation.

"Want me to go see who it is baby?"

"No... no... you make a decision on the film and I'll go see who it is who is rude enough to disrupt our evening."

If I hadn't been so tired from looking after a sick baby all day, I'd have noticed all the clues of who was waiting for me out there. I would have also taken my trusty knife that I had stashed in the key bowl next to the door if I wasn't so disorientated from the lack of sleep.

As I opened the door, I barely had a chance to look at the police officer stood in front of me clad in black body armour and the myriad of official vehicles on the cul-de-sac before he bundled me out of my own home and wrestled me to the ground. The shock of what was happening to me wasn't enough to numb the feeling of the cold metal handcuffs cutting deep into my wrists. I managed to lift my head up significantly to look the nearest officer in the eye and tell them "Make sure you don't wake the baby, I just got them down to sleep."

I don't know how long it has been since I was arrested. I've had a black bag over my head since they threw me into the back of the police wagon. Since arriving in what I can only presume to be a cell, the handcuffs and hood had remained on so I had no clue as to how much time had actually passed. Every so often someone would enter, lift the hood slightly and allow me a sip of water or to eat some bland cracker.

If this was some attempt to make annoyed, angry or stressed about the lack of knowledge about my wife and son then they'd be wrong. I remained relaxed and composed, knowing full well that the lack of a response from me would irritate them more.

After what I had judged to be about three days, they came to collect me, frog marching me for a bit before I was sat in a different chair and had the handcuffs released from behind my back and reattached to a table infront of me. I thought I knew what was going to happen next when the hood was removed. I thought I was prepared. But when I saw my wife sitting opposite me in the interrogaters chair, I couldn't hide my shock and surprise.

"Hi honey... how's your day going?" She asked with that cocky smile that I had grown to love after 3 years of being together.

"Hmmm... well, I must admit dear... it hasn't been the easiest couple of days. But I'm sure a massage from you would make it all better."

I glanced around. It was a bare room with metal chairs and a metal table all bolted to the floors. The walls were dark, and made by what appeared to be some soundproofing material. It seems like the same kind of stuff that I used in my murder house. The only door in the room was closed, with no handle on this side.

"Oh dear, baby, you seem a little confused." My wife said mockingly, I was starting to lose all the love I had previously felt for her.

"Well darling... it would be nice if a few things were cleared up."

"Might as well. What would you like to know first?"

"Where are we?"

"Black site interogation cell. You should feel honoured, this place is usually reserved for terrorists and the like."

"I feel so honoured(!)" I responded with sarcastically. "And our son? Where is he?"

"My mother has been looking after him."

"Rdiculous. You hate your mother."

"No, you hate my mother."

I absorbed the true meaning of what had been said. "So your mother doesn't know what we do for fun then?"

"What YOU do for fun." She corrected. It took me another moment to digest what she said.

"But... that was our thing!" I complained. "It's what made us such a great couple." I was a little dejected by now. "So... if you weren't out there luring victims back to your murder hole all this time, what were you doing?"

"Oh, I was luring victims and killing them, just... those I was ordered to kill."

"Ordered to?"

"Yes. My superiors give me a name of someone who needs to disappear, and I make them... disappear."

"I see." Which was only partially true. "Turning your hobby into your job, how lucrative. And when did you decide that I was worth betraying."

"'Betraying' is a horrible word. It was our third month anniversary, it was the first time you had told me what you liked to do. I had found out that you had just dealt with that corrupt hedgefund manager."

"Oh yeah... that was a good one." I smiled in reminisance of it all.

My wife continued with her explanation. "I realised that we could use you."

"Use me?"

"Yes... you think those victims of yours over the years were chosen by chance? We've been behind it all. Whenever it suited us to take a certain person out of the equation without our fingerprints on it... who better than a serial killer to deal with it. Of course we needed to keep you close, and what better than to marry you and start a family."

Now I was in serious shock. My whole world view collapsing around me. "If it was so convenient, why detain me now?"

"That last venture of yours, the University student... it brought more heat than we can usually deal with. So we need a scapegoat, and here you are... ready made."

My former wife got up from her chair and made her way towards the door. "I've got to go now, lots to do. Any last questions darling?"

I stared at the empty seat in front of me, oddly enough I couldn't look at her just then. "Just one... was it real?"

Looking forward I couldn't see her facial expression, but a second later she came closer and kissed me on the cheek. It felt nice but before I turned my head there came the sound of the door closing.

The imprint of her parting gift felt warm and stangely comforting. I felt it still as the black hood returned over my head, blocking out my view into the darkness. I smiled to myself, a smile that would remain until my final breath, knowing that her final gift would be with me until the end.