The Hate Nymph
The Hate Nymph
For many months, Kaden had wished he had never gotten married.
"I loved my life before my wife." He would repeat the little rhyme in his head at least a dozen times a day.
He repeated it now as he showered at 8pm. Kaden had a little less than an hour to get to work, when the nightly alcoholics showed up to the bar he bounced at and began escaping into the bottles and glasses of liquid amnesia.
His wife was perfect. She was beautiful, fearless when trying new things, smart, and daring. These things attracted him to her initially. However, Kaden realized his mistake while he lay next to her the night of their wedding.
"I'm only 22. How the hell did I get myself married already?"
He couldn’t stymie these thoughts as she drifted off to sleep next to him.
Kaden left his house and jumped into his Jeep, gunned the engine, flicked the lights on, and pulled out of the driveway. He glanced back at the house her parents had purchased them for a wedding present.
He sighed, pulled onto the street, and drove to work. On the way he thought about why he hated his life and how it got to that point. He was so full of promise six months ago, before he uttered the words, "I do," and successfully ended his life. Now, all seemed swept out from under him and he was doomed to a life of tedium that had dinner on the table at 6:30 and weekly trips to one of their parents houses to sit through nauseating conversation.
Everything was so banal to him.
He arrived at the bar 20 minutes ahead of schedule, jammed a cigarette in his mouth from a crumpled pack on the dash, and lit up. He inhaled the smoke and blew it out in a cloud that was a half sigh. He felt sucked into a repetition of doing the same thing.
He dragged his body out of the Jeep and entered the bar.
He clocked in, said hi to the bartenders, and took his post at the front door. Within the next 2 hours, the bar filled with smoke, bodies, perfume, conversation, and sexual tension. He was a voyeur to all that happened in the bar. He saw the women exposing enough thigh and cleavage to earn a free drink, but not enough to promise their suitors things they would later have to deliver on.
He saw men use every trick and line they gleaned from movies and porns in an attempt to capture the same sexual prowess and conquests as those stars.
This used to be his playground.
Kaden could pull any girl he wanted to out of this bar and forget her in the morning.
God, he missed his life before his wife.
As he was absorbed in his observation and morose thoughts, he felt a light touch on his shoulder. He turned and beheld a gorgeous woman. She was clothed in black fishnets with knee high black boots, and had a black halter top on. Tattoos sprang out like poisoned flowers across her torso and back, and framed a well-toned stomach. She had eyes that were the color of the violets he bought his wife for their 6 month anniversary, and he thought they must have been contacts.
"Got a light," the stranger questioned, and Kaden dug in his pants for his lighter.
"I know you."
The statement left Kaden wondering if he had met this woman before or if she was mistaken as to who he was.
"You work here, and I see you every night. I feel like I know you."
"My name is Kaden." He offered his hand.
"Sybil." She smiled a cute little half-smile and slinked into the bar.
Kaden watched her leave and couldn't help but glance at the roundness of her ass as it swayed under her form fitting skirt.
She glanced back, and Kaden let himself get caught watching. It was fun flirting. It livened up his nearly defunct sex drive. He remembered again that he would only sleep for one woman for the rest of his life.
Throughout the night she would glance over at him, knowing he was watching. Every time she did, she wore that same smile that seemed like she was laughing at a private joke that only she knew about.
About a half hour before closing, she sat at a table right in front of him and began chatting up a guy that was trying as hard as he could to take any girl home with him from the bar.
As they talked, Sybil locked eyes with Kaden and gave him that half-smile.
She situated her body so that he could see her lower half, but still allowed her to talk to the pathetic guy trying to purchase her a drink despite the fact she had a fresh rum and coke in her hand.
She spread her legs under the table and allowed him to notice where the fishnets ended, and where her underwear should have been.
Kaden felt himself stir, and just as quick repeated in his head, "I loved my life before my wife."
The other bouncers began to make their closing rounds and announce to the patrons that the bar was closed.
Sybil whispered something in one of their ears, and the bouncer approached Kaden.
"She says you are her ride home?"
"Kaden swallowed and before he realized what he was saying replied
"Yeah, she's on my way."
Cigarette smoke floated into the air in wisps and Kaden took a drag on his butt before crushing it in the hotel ashtray.
Sybil stirred next to him, a perfect seraphim of flesh. The tattoos comprised a complex design that could only be appreciated fully nude, and Kaden really appreciated her fully nude.
She opened her violet eyes.
"Your wife is going to mad about this."
"I don't know how I'm going to tell her," KAden replied.
"Don't tell her. Just kill her."
Kaden looked into her eyes and tried to discern if she was kidding.
She did not appear to be.
"I've gotta piss," she said and rolled her naked frame out of bed.
Kaden rolled over and closed his eyes. Before the final embers of the cigarette sparked out, he was asleep.
When he awoke, the sky outside was tinged with the first fingers of dawn, crawling across the sky. He composed a number of excuses for his nighttime abscense for his wife. He would tell her, eventually, but not right now.
He looked in the bathroom for Sybil, but was met with only his guilty face, and his naked body. Muscles rippled beneath skin, and were soon caressed by the warm water of the shower as he rinsed off the nights transgressions.
He dressed in the same clothes, lit a cigarette, and jumped in his Jeep. On the drive home, he decided he would tell his wife that the guys grabbed a few brews after work and he lost track of time, before passing out on his friends couch. He had done just that many times before.
As he turned onto his block,, he thought about hte mysterious Sybil and her weird questions after sex.
He entered the house, and found pancakes on a warmer, and a note from his wife telling him she had an early work meeting, and that she loved him. He dumped the note and the pancakes into the garbage, and fell asleep.
Kaden dreamed.
Sybil was on top of him, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, her voice rising and rising until..
His clock trilled its shrill call and roused him from a sleep that left him as sweaty as Sybil was in his dream.
His sheets were soaked with perspiration, and his breath shuddered out of him. He realized he was scared, but did not know why.
He reached over to the bedside stand and tried to find his pack of smokes.
"Bad dreams?"
The question originated from the dark and startled the already edgy Kaden.
Her face leaned into the moonlight from the window, and Sybil smiled her half-smile.
He sat straight up in bed, shuddering and gasping. "Take it easy, it was was just a dream, just a dream."
The mantra repeated in his head until he calmed down and started getting dressed for work. As he tucked his shirt in he repeated, "I loved my life before my wife," his fear of moments ago lost in the mental tempest of sex and passion replayed from the night before.
Kaden clocked in and sat at the door. He watched the ballet of drunkeness unfold. He jumped when the breathy "hello" crawled across his ear.
Sybil stood next to him and ran her tongue across her lips before lighting a cigarette and smiling her half-smile.
"What happened to you last night," questioned Kaden.
"Had to meet with someone," she cryptically replied.
"See you brought your own lighter this time," Kaden whispered into the nape of her neck, and his breath made her shudder and smile.
"Wanna give me another ride home?"
"Love to."
Kaden pushed himself into a sitting position and lit a cigarette.
"So did you kill your wife yet?"
Kaden looked into Sybils eyes and his stomach fluttered, as he realized she wasn't kidding. Or was she?
She sat with her legs crossed and Kaden admired her perfect, perky chest.
“You want me to help you?”
Kaden smirked at her and decided to play along to see if she was serious.
“Sure.”
She put her cigarette in the ashtray.
She placed her fingertips against his forehead and closed her eyes.
"What are you..."
Kaden’s arms fell slack against his body and his eyes rolled into his head as she pushed her fingers into his skull.
Whispered incantations floated from her mouth like wisps of sweet magic, and mingled with the smoke from the ashtray before dissipating into the room like the nicotine streams from the forgotten cigarette.
Kaden woke with a pounding headache, and a dry mouth. He remembered bits of the dream that felt so real to him. He looked around and realized this was the second night he woke in a strange hotel room by himself.
He didn't bother to shower, but drank four cups of water from the tap before he drove home. He entered his house and crept to the kitchen. He snagged a half gallon of milk from the fridge and used it to wash down four tylenol. He rested his throbbing head against the kitchen window and stared at the twilight of his backyard. He drank another glass of water. He felt as if he had just been through a strenuous workout.
He smiled to himself when he reminded himself that that was exactly what he had just done. However, the glow of sex was not what it was the night before because Kaden didn’t feel well.
He felt like he was getting the flu. He decided to call in sick for work tonight and sleep all day. This would also present him with the oppurtunity to sort out what he was doing with Sybil and decide on his next course of action. He reached into his pocket for his cell phone, but came away with nothing.
"Maybe it fell out of my pocket in the car," thought Kaden.
He went to the garage and opened his door.
No cell phone.
He turned around to go back inside when his eyes fell upon his tool cabinet. His father bought most of them and he had inherited them along with many other things after he had died.
He crossed to the cabinet and opened the doors wide.
He looked over his implements, and without meaning to, he touched the sledgehammer.
He picked it out of its place in the rack of organized tools, and hefted its weight.
He didn't remember going back into the house, but the next thing Kaden realized was that he was standing outside his bedroom door.
Outside the bedroom where his wife was sleeping peacefully.
Outside the bedroom with a sledgehammer in his hand.
Her chest rose and fell with the regularity of someone deep asleep. Her hand was curled under her chin in an almost childish pose, and her soft lips looked perfect in the pale light thrown across the bed from the moon.
Kadens eyes flicked down her profile, and then back up. She was magnificent, but flashes of Sybil's tattooed torso tensed on top of him clouded his mind. Her moans flooded his ears, and he had to shake his head to clear it.
"You know you want to do it."
Sybil slinked out of the shadows completely nude and crossed to his shoulder.
Her presence did not seem at all out of place in the room. Kaden was only worried his wife would wake up and catch a naked woman there.
She seemed to read his thoughts as she whispered, "Don't worry, I'm not here," as she smiled that little half-smile.
Kaden turned his back to her and felt his head pounding as if he were stricken with a migraine. The flu symptoms were really playing havoc with his head and stomach. He had to hold his gorge as nauseau welled up inside his stomach.
He raised the hammer.
He looked back at Sybil, glorious Sybil, tattoos crawling across her stomach and lower back.
He turned back to his wife who was sleeping so peacefully, and muttered, "I loved my life before my wife."
His words stirred her and she lazily opened her eyes. She smiled, but her eyes widened as she took in the strangeness of the scene.
The last thing she ever saw was her husband swinging down a hammer, and a flash of violet over his shoulder.
She didn't even have time to scream as the 10lb sledge slammed into her face. Her nose and teeth crunched as the powerful instrument crushed her skull. Blood and bone fragments splattered across Kadens stomach and thighs. He raised the weapon and swung it into her countenance again, and again until he couldn't lift his arms anymore.
He had bludgeoned her twelve times before his body gave out.
Blood ran in runnels off the sheets and spattered on the floor. His beautiful wife was now a mass of flesh, soaking into the sheets her sister bought her for their marital bed. Kaden remembered she winked at him at the reception and told him not to stain them.
Kaden turned to see if Sybil approved, but she was not there.
The nauseau was worse now than before. The copper scent of spent blood, combined with the gore splattered across his body proved to be too much. He vomited next to the bed, and the force of his heaving drove him to his knees. When he was done, he looked at his wife and began to scream.
Red and blue lights circled the side of the house as the police officer put his hand on Kadens head, and guided him into the backseat of the cruiser.
"What a mess." Kaden heard the officer tell the medical examiner as they emerged from his house.
The door closed and the quiet of the car screamed at him in a silent vacuum.
The must of his gore splattered clothing came to him, but he was all done being sick. His gaze wandered over the crowd as he waited to be taken away.
He stopped on Sybil's face in the crowd.
They locked eyes, and she smiled her little half-smile.
