Roof-Afza – Short Horror Story

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I've discreetly decorated the surprisingly clean floor of a bathroom – once used – with pristine ivory paint. A poor moth-in maut’s face and thorax were both obscured by it. The pleasureful high in these times is just ineffable sometimes. Gloomy thoughts of "diabolical origin" had been wandering the crevices of my mind for a while. Calm, unnoticeable on the outside, gears turning inside. Restless nights of insanity and thinking. Four weeks ago, with my wife, a madame Bovary-type, I had shifted here, and then it was such awfulness began. Think this: they confidently advise "to be yourself" when you really can't. These alligators had gathered before – once upon a time, in a land far, far away. Previously, the bastards just annoyingly frolicked in a swamp, only causing a minor "incident" (the youth, the britva, and the aunt). Now, they bit. Pain! If only I had a potion like Jekyll. Thus, I was forced to try beating a man into either submission or death or both in a quiet corner.

As I began absorbing the surroundings, I discovered a paradise: Gul Gardens Park. I would enjoy the innocent little metaphorical undressing of active bodies from a bench, sunglasses on. Daily, a lively woman would appear. She would often be accompanied by a similarly upbeat man, husband presumably. They seemed an amicable couple. I found them to occupy the lilac house right at the end of our street. Suited, equipped with box-e-chocolates and a smile, I eagerly rang their doorbell. Introducing myself as the charming, friendly (ersatz) Mr…Sawhard. When I shook her hand and sensed her soft & smooth skin, her precious fingers adorned with cherry polish, her palm, its faint lines – enough to give a reading – a rush of blood came trickling down. After the ordeal, I was left with an embarrassing tightness that had to be hidden. Milord, the verdict was indeed final: Mrs Alisha of 13th.

So busy I later became that past plans went AWOL. Until last week. They invited me, along with my wife, to have dinner next Saturday, at 7:00 pm. I was to come alone. Today, hurriedly I arrived and was met with a warm smile by the woman. Ticks tocked. Dinner was had. During customary after-dinner tea, the couple received a distraction (some animal). Thanking sheer serendipity, I equally distributed two tablets to their respective drinks in delirious haste “Sorry. These damn pests keep messing up the house” “Oh, it is fine” Behold the complacent proud prince. At 8:45 pm: Mr Afraad lay on the couch in eternal slumber; Mrs Alisha weeping, hands over face. Slowly, she lowered them, wiping crimson juice and tears off her gorgeous visage. Fading into a tight, sweet sleep, she weakly wailed, a whisper almost, “Why?” Here I am, in utter bliss, a ruined scented pink dress beside me, my pet's. The veneer has vanished. Finally, I am at ease. Qu'est-ce que c'est?

Feel free to give any suggestions. Thank you.

submitted by /u/General-Ad-1835
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