Chapter 1
Chapter 1
In 1927...
Life is always difficult, but it is considerably more difficult when you have to exist in a society where the affluent play the strings and the poor scramble for a cent to purchase a piece of bread for their children to eat. Humans were heinous. That was Dave’s impression of the individuals he saw on the street on his way home from work. He worked at a furniture factory, and he didn’t get paid today. Why? When his fury flared, he struck a coworker for bumping into him.
Going home without money wasn’t a smart idea, and as he entered the respectable house, his wife waited for him, arms folded across her chest, tapping her foot impatiently.
“So? Where’s the money?” she asked, her long brown hair framing her face beautifully so, bright brown eyes showing one of the deadly sins, the greed.
“No, but I am gonna get it. Don’t worry.” Dave told her, passing her to get to the kitchen, taking a glass of water.
Footsteps approached him, and he knew what was about to happen. He felt her punch him in the back, her tiny fists not even creating a slight amount of pain. Normally, if there was anybody else, he would have thrown them across the room, but she was his wife.
“Elizabeth. I am not in the mood.” Dave told her, swallowing down the tension that was bubbling in his chest.
“You are never in the mood for anything! No money, no respect. Everyone views us as garbage. Fuck you! You are nothing.” She grumbled and walked out of the kitchen and upstairs.
Dave’s fists balled up, and he walked out of the house, not able to stay even a second in this hellhole. His steps took him to the local bar where some of his so-called friends were drinking some alcohol and sharing stories of the good old days.
“Dave! It’s so good to see you. How’s work?” Harold, one of his co-workers at the factory, asked, offering him a seat and a glass of whiskey.
“I don’t have money. I don’t drink.” Dave told Harold, who rolled his eyes and insisted, handing him the glass of expensive alcohol.
“So, I’m guessing you still have problems with money, huh? I understand that besides working at the factory, I still do part-time jobs to sustain my family. Raising two kids is never easy.” Harold told Dave, lighting a cigarette and handing the light-haired guy one, which he accepted.
“Don’t tell me.” Dave grumbled, blowing an ‘o’ of smoke as he looked outside at the window, seeing people pass by.
“Right….So you and Elizabeth worked on making babies?” Harold asked with a smirk.
Dave snorted at the question, taking a sip of whiskey. Elizabeth wasn’t the type to create a family. She was a beauty; he had to admit and everyone thought so, but wife-material she was not, well, in the past two years since they got married, she changed and not for the good.
“Not really,” Dave whispered and Harold patted his broad shoulder, trying to comfort his friend. Of all the people, Harold was probably the only one with a straight spine and spoke in a headstrong way.
“You know, my father used to say that having a beautiful wife is amazing until they get old and all beauty fads away, leaving just an empty carcass of maggots. Figuratively of course, but you get my point.” the older male told him and took a sip of his drink, both males looking at the young girls that were at the bar, flirting and trying to get a bag of money in form of a rich male.
“Your father was a wise man,” Dave spoke, scowling at the image of his wife.
He loved her, but after so many years, all the love that was at the beginning faded into dust, leaving only frustrations and arguments that didn’t go anywhere to a clarified point.
He sometimes wished he could just beat her brains in and out, not with words, but with something strong, like a hammer perhaps. At first, Dave ignored such morbid thoughts, telling himself it was the rage that gave him such toxic scenarios, but as time passed, he realized that he enjoyed what his imagination created.
Both men continued to drink and talk about life, work, and other problems until it was almost midnight and the bar closed.
“See you tomorrow at work?” Harold asked, adjusting his coat.
Dave gave him a nod, and they waved goodbye at each other, going on their way home. The younger male wondered as he walked home how life would have been if he would have got a more brain-filled woman, someone who knew what she wanted from life, and not the dirty money.
A family.
Dave was in his middle 30s and he knew he wasn’t getting any younger. His wife, being 31, made things even harder because she wasn’t looking forward to being a mother.
As he got home, he noticed the lights were out, alas he entered the house, which was deadly silent, leaving for some sounds upstairs in their shared bedroom. You didn’t have to be a genius to know what was going on. Normally, anyone would have barged in and probably beat the shit out of the man who was fucking his wife, but Dave didn’t do so.
‘Do I truly love her?’ He asked himself, sitting down on the old couch and waiting for them to finish and come down.
After 30 minutes, the man was the first to come down, seeing Dave, his eyes widened, but he said nothing, just getting his coat on and exiting the house.
After 5 minutes, Elizabeth came down and her eyes fixed on her husband, who gave her an empty stare.
“You’re home. Where were you?” she asked in a snarky tone, crossing her arms.
“Out with the guys.” he simply responded.
“Yeah, right? More like going between prostitutes’ legs. That’s where my money is going.” She said and rolled her eyes.
“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” She told him one last time before going back upstairs, slamming the bedroom door shut.
That’s new, accusing someone of cheating when you’re the one that did so just a few minutes ago. What a hypocrite.
What Dave felt now was hatred, not just a simple fury, but pure wrath. He felt like getting his hands on something and choking the life out of it. His grey eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep.
His wife was driving him nuts and before he realized it, he left his home in the middle of the night, going down the streets, trying to get some fresh air and calm himself down.
The streets at night were exclusively populated by evil individuals, those engaged in illegal activities. He never gave them any attention until a feminine voice interrupted his stream of thought. It was a young woman in her mid-twenties with red hair and a blue outfit, which was anything but modest.
A prostitute.
“Hey there, stud. Looking for a good time?” She asked in a seductive voice, giving him a cheeky smile.
Normally, he would have told her to fuck off, but he found himself smirking and stopping in front of her.
“Lead the way,” He whispered to her, and she grinned, taking his hand and moving into an alleyway. Times were hard, and affording a hotel room wasn’t an option, so people had to stick with cheap options.
The girl pushed him against a wall and ran her hands down his chest, her red lips looking inviting, but more so was her neck.
“So? What can I do for you tonight? A blowjob, or maybe we can go all the way up with some doggy time?” She asked, ready to kiss him.
It all happened in a flash of a second, their roles switching as he held her now against the wall, only for his hands to wrap around her neck, so tightly she choked, her green eyes looking up at him with fear, her tiny hands trying to grab him, but it was in vain.
Her eyes gradually lost their life, and she died in his arms. Grey eyes scrutinized her face. Dave’s breath was heavy, and he would have worried in the past, but now he felt a surge of exhilaration flow through his veins. He killed someone; he did it; he wasn’t hallucinating, and he had a great time doing it. He let the body fall to the concrete ground and looked left and right to make sure no one had witnessed the heinous act of violence.
After checking it so, he left the alleyway and walked home. All the rage is gone, and he never felt more at peace.
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The Asylum- A Monster Erotica (Diabolic Lovers Series) by C.B. Blackburn
