What have you done?

Raina put her full weight behind the sword and pushed. Willy jumped back, quick as a heartbeat, and slapped the sword away.

The sword tip still sliced his robe and raked a bloody gash across his upper abdomen. The momentum of the thrust took Raina all the way to the floor. She fell face first and the sword went clattering from her hands.

Raina got to her feet as quickly as she could but she was slow. Too slow. Willy had secured the sword. He was advancing. Slowly, methodically.

Blood trickled from the gash around his abdomen and his white robe was getting redder by the moment.

Raina backed away from her menacing husband but there was only so far she could go before her back hit the wall. There was nowhere else to run.

"Please," Raina begged. Willy said nothing. He advanced as a hunter would at a wolf in a trap, his gray eyes seeming to churn like storm clouds.

Willy stopped a pace away from Raina. She had to crane her neck to look into his face. He was so much taller up close. So much broader. His shoulders had to be twice the width of hers. His forearms were as thick as her shins and his biceps thicker than her thighs.

"Please," Raina begged with tears in her eyes.

Willy ignored her. He raised his arm, not the one gripping the sword. He raised his empty right hand. Hope flared inside Raina for the briefest of moments and then vanished as she realized what Willy was about to do.

She opened her mouth to scream but Willy's hand closed around her throat and squelched that scream.

He looked into her eyes. He didn't seem bothered by his bleeding abdomen. His face showed no signs of pain or anger. His gaze was almost affectionate. But his hand encircled her throat. The grip was gentle but firm. And then he squeezed.

Raina fought back. She tried to scream but no sound came out. She kicked but it was her feet that hurt. She raked his hand with her nails but he seemed immune to the pain. Raina raked Willy's forearm until it was bleeding as much as his abdomen. But he didn't seem to notice. The pressure around her neck never lessened. Willy watched her as one would a dog chasing its own tail. The bastard found her feeble attempts amusing.

After struggling and struggling, Raina gave up. She gave herself over to the darkness. She felt it rushing in, clamoring to claim her.

Her fear was replaced with pure ecstasy. She could feel everything. The veins in her toes, the bone marrow inside her ribs, and even her hair growing. She felt it all.

Raina had never experienced such a state of transcendent hyperawareness before. Some part of her knew she was dying but she didn't care.

Willy's vice-like grip didn't matter anymore. Only the pure joy of the moment. The god-like hyperawareness. The ecstasy. Take me, Raina prayed.

But then the gathering darkness fled. The ecstasy disappeared. The hyperawareness dulled and vanished in short order. What replaced them was pain. Dull throbbing pain in her throat.

Raina drew in a ragged breath but even the air hurt. She coughed and that hurt so much that she wanted to scream. It was then that Raina realized she was lying on the floor.

She gathered herself into a sitting position. That's when she noticed the feet. She looked up. Her husband was standing over her, his expression just as inscrutable as it had been before.

His bleeding seemed to have slowed down but his formerly pristine white robe had turned crimson from abdomen to ankle. Droplets of blood dripped from the hem of the robe onto the floor.

"Wil—" Raina tried to say. Willy didn't bother to listen. He turned and walked away, bloody footprints marking his path. As the door banged closed, Raina was left shivering on the floor, looking at all the blood that stained and pooled on it. The room looked like a slaughterhouse. What have I done? 

Raina looked up when the door opened again. It wasn't Willy. It was her mother. A shocked Carla Lamanbhurg looked at all the blood on the floor and then at her daughter. She parroted Raina's thoughts, "What have you done?"