The first morning rays of Halloween haunted their way through the bedroom’s curtains like happy ghosts. Stanley Ryan opened one eye and then another. There was nothing spooky about this morning: He felt great. In fact, he woke up feeling better than he had in years. He knees didn’t hurt. Even his scar on his back didn’t burn. He looked over to tell his wife of 30 years, Ann. But Ann wasn’t there.
“She wouldn’t listen anyway.” Stanley grumbled to himself. He and Ann were married in name only. He couldn’t even remember the last time she allowed him to even give her a hug.
But no matter. Even Ann couldn’t ruin how good he felt today. He stretched and walked down the hall. There he saw their cat Diablo.
“Hey you little devil” Stanley said to the black cat. But Diablo just arched his back and hissed at him.
“What the Hell?” Stanley grumbled as headed to the kitchen. No stupid cat or grumpy wife would ruin how amazing he felt. He hadn’t felt this alive in years.
He entered the kitchen and noticed something strange on the kitchen counter — an empty bottle of pills. He looked at the bottle. Painkillers. And not good painkillers. The kind of painkillers he was deathly allergic, too.
“Did you do it?”
Stanley heard a voice at the front door. It was Ann’s doctor, Frank Carbuckle.
“Just like you said.”
It was Ann’s voice. Stanley rushed into the living room to see Ann embracing her doctor.
“Did you call 911?”
“Yes. They should be here soon.”
Stanley saw Ann kiss Frank.
“I’ve waited for this moment for years…”
“SONOFA…”
But Stanley’s voice was muted. Almost like he was screaming underwater. Neither Frank or Ann seemed to hear him.
Fear shot through his body. He ran back to his bedroom and looked at his bed. There, lying prone on the top of the covers was his body. The cold truth hit him.
He was dead.
And Ann had killed him.
That night, at Frank’s house, Ann and Frank sat at the dinner table in robes.
“I loved the way you cried and screamed when the police came. You should win an Academy Award, dear.” Frank raised his glass. “Here’s to us and our new lives together.”
Ann got an evil smile on her face. After 30 years of living with a loser, she now could be with an accomplished man. A man who knew how to take care of her. A man who listened. “It’s just too bad Stanley had to commit “suicide,” like that.”
Both laughed.
Ann got up and gestured toward the bedroom. Her robe opened slightly, in an inviting way.
“I’m going to go freshen up and take a bath. Meet me in the bathroom in fifteen minutes.”
Frank felt his face flush with anticipation. How that loser Stanley could not appreciate a woman like Ann was beyond him. Idiot. Oh well, his loss. Literally.
Ann walked into the doctor’s huge master bathroom. She turned the water on as hot as she could stand and watched as the tub filled to the top. She untied her robe, allowed it to slip to the floor and climbed into the hot water. Steam rose as she felt her old, miserable life wash away.
Then she felt something cold come into the room. The chill gripped her and took the heat out of the bathwater. And then she felt a bitter cold on her shoulders.
Suddenly her head was thrust under the water. She tried to scream and gasp for air at the same time. Her arms flailed but whatever was holding her was just too strong.
And then it released.
She looked up, gasping for breath and swore she saw mist. Then as the mist solidified into shape, she tried to scream…
It was Stanley.
He stared at her and transformed into a fiery demon.
“YOU WILL PAY!!!!” his demonic voice screamed as he grabbed Ann’s head and shoved it under the water one last time.
Epilogue:
The anchor tried to look serious as 10 p.m. news. Halloween night was always full of strange stories. He cleared his throat as the teleprompter began to roll.
In local news, the widow of a local man was found dead this evening in the home of a local doctor. Frank Carbuckle, an OB-GYN, was charged with first degree murder of the Ann Ryan. Ryan’s husband Stanley was found earlier today after committing suicide. Police said they received an anonymous tip about the murder. Carbuckle was led from his Bel Air home in handcuffs and is being held without bail.