Ch7: The passion of life

Falros gasped and sat bolt upright. He was lying beside the bed face to face with a massive tattooed man. The man was staring blankly at him. his eyes cold, on the floor was a pool of blood. A dagger jutting directly from his forehead. Something happened, somehow this man stopped.

He got up and surveyed the room. The woman was still on the bed face down, the dagger was missing from her back, and somehow ended up in the man. Falros felt a rush of adrenaline. It felt good. He felt like he was alive. He felt the rush of a thousand waves on the beach. He could only think of one thing. He must go to her.

He made his way back to the lobby and found a cloth to wipe his face. He took his vest off as it was covered in blood from the man. He felt lucky tonight. He felt that everything that led up to this moment should have opened his eyes to what he has. What really mattered to him was his wife and daughter. It was all he had.

He continued muttering this as he swiftly walked the streets at night. He saw people on the boardwalks and stared at him as he passed. Some asked questions, but he couldn’t make anything out. He walked quickly with no delay to his target.

Later, Falros opened the front door of his house, and inside lanterns lit the bedroom that his wife was in. He made his way in. She was sitting up in the bed, her eyes still puffy from crying. When he walked in, her eyes lit up and the shock of seeing him where he was not supposed to be taken over. He never was not where he was supposed to be. It is the single fact that she had grown accustomed to in the years they were together.

She spotted blood on his shirt, but before she could say anything, his mouth quickly met hers in a passionate kiss. The kiss was forceful and even hurt a little, but within seconds she was immune to the effects of the pain. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his body as his to hers. The embrace seemed to last an eternity, and when both finally released, seemed far too short.

He gently laid her back on the bed, his touch was soft and tender, her feelings for him renewed in an instant. She felt the heat of passion almost immediately. She felt that years of knowing what she wanted and wanting tranquility suddenly gave way to lust and passion.

Falros reached over to her night stand and plucked a singular item off it. In his head, he heard the voice. The voice said, “Kill her.”

Before she realized, the dagger that she had sitting on her night stand was slashed across her face. She felt shear pain, which converted to terror, as her husband with both legs straddled her waist and with each flick of the blade opened a new wound. She screamed.