Story||

Disregarding my feeble struggle and half-dead body, she persisted in narrating her story., but my attention was not on her words. Instead, it was fixated on the relentless fluid coursing through my body, inflicting intense pain with each cycle.

The initial wave of torment felt akin to my bone being shattered, after with every completed surge, it intensified tenfold. The searing agony was similar to like a sharp blade ruthlessly pierced my diaphragm, leaving me gasping for air amidst the suffocating torture.

Plop

The sound of "plop" reverberated through the room, signifying the gruesome outcome. My eye, forcibly ejected from its socket, landed on my trembling chest as if viciously hurled outwards.painting a path of red on my body, the dislodged eyeball bounced and rolled across my tormented form, it display an unexpected elasticity like that of rubber ball.

It finally came to a rest on my crimson abdomen, which had also suffered the same fate.

This time.

It felt as though my entire being had been subjected to an infernal cooking process, with wisps of steam escaping my overheated body, reminiscent of an overcooked dish of oven.

A small aperture formed in my left eye , an ominous void that imbued me with a sense of loss, Despite my deteriorating condition, I was acutely aware of this loss,

Even after all of that , she did not waver in her storytelling; she continued as if my suffering were nonexistent.

She continued her story, the words flowing from her with a mixture of anticipation and excitement hanging in the air. " The days passed by happily as a loving family. I barely noticed when two years had slipped away. But soon, I began to notice a change in my husband. His interest in me waned, and it pained me deeply."

" I made every effort to keep our relationship alive, fulfilling his evry desires in hopes of refueling his love. But my attempts were in vain. That's when I started contemplating drastic solutions, even the idea of imprisoning my husband to prevent other women from flocking to him. It was merely a passing thought."

"Then, one day, my husband was in the bathroom, and I caught a glimpse of a saved number on his phone, stored under the name ( honey.) Frustration consumed me. The realization that I was not his only one made me furious. You can probably guess what happened next," she said, her voice filled with anticipation, waiting for a response.

But no response came, she injected another dose of fluid into the chest of the motionless figure before her, continuing her story without pause.

"Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes. I saw my husband receive a message, and without uttering a single word, he hurried out of the house. Intrigued, I decided to follow him, determined to discover who he was so attracted to and why she captivated him more than I did. "

"My relentless pursuit eventually led me to a bench in a park, where I glimpsed my husband with a teenage girl. She had dark pink hair and captivating pink eyes, her age ranged from 18 to 19. The smile on her oval face was undeniably beautiful, though incomparable to my own."

" But there he was, tightly embracing her in the open park, basking in her presence. While I admit my husband possesses a youthful charm, he is not the only one blessed with attractiveness. I am equally stunning, and the admiring gazes I received in the park served as evidence of that."

Suppressing my anger and fury at the sight, I quietly observed their interactions while already devising a plan to resolve this issue. I continued to trail them, witnessing their activities unfold. They went on dates, went shopping together, enjoyed the cinema, and spent time in an amusement park.

Ultimately, they ended up at a luxurious hotel. It struck me as ironic that it was the very same hotel my husband had taken me to on our very first time.

Yet, this time, he had chosen to bring another woman, but I wouldn't allow it to last.

I stealthily approached the door of their room, my ear pressed against it, there was - the sound of moaning. They wasted no time indulging in their desires. Just half an hour had passed, and they couldn't resist each other any longer.

In a moment of overwhelming rage, I lost control and smashed open the door, propel.

What I witnessed inside the room struck me to my core - my husband and the other woman engaged in an intimate act.

My husband thrusting inside her.

Burning with fury, I lunged at the girl, injecting a lethal dose of poison into her, causing her to lose consciousness. I then dragged my husband home, threatening him for antidote

In a twisted twist of fate, I decided he deserved punishment.

In front of that motionless girl, I make love with my husband, making it abundantly clear to him and her who he truly belonged to.

But thoughts of my husband's punishment consumed me. The other woman lay dead before my husband, having met a tragic and gruesome end.

That's when I fed my husband a drug named * Opioid Fentanyl." It granted him a peaceful death. As I embraced him, absorbing every part of him, he became one with me, his essence assimilating into my very being.

He dwells within me, providing me with in the form of nutrition. Isn't that a good outcome?" she questioned, her eyes finally resting upon the figure of Onver.

His eyes were gruesomely popped out of their sockets, dangling near his face, while the empty sockets revealed the horror of his crushed skulls.

It was as if a miniature bomb had detonated within his head, wreaking havoc on his features.

His once-intact chest now bore a dreadful wound, a puncture that exposed his shattered ribs jutting out from his mutilated flesh. The sight was agonizingly grotesque.

Yet, what caught her attention was the inflammation of his abdomen, swollen and bulge even more then an pregnant lady.

It seemed as if an unseen force had forcibly inflated it, stretching the skin to its limits. The image provoked a strike of disappointment within her.

With an innocent tone, she softly whisper, "I wish I could share more of my story with you, but alas, you cannot accompany me on this journey."

Her eyes shifted back towards Onver's lifeless form, the sorrow evident in her voice, "He is... dead."