David and Anne sat at the head of the table, their smiles radiating a kind of happiness that seemed almost surreal. They looked so perfect together, like they belonged in a magazine spread. Anne’s makeup was flawless, complementing her radiant smile, while David’s sharp suit and confident demeanor made him look every bit the groom.
Tom and Sarah had gone above and beyond, even presenting them with a brand-new car as a wedding gift. The shiny key sat on the table, reflecting the soft light like a token of their generosity.
David picked up the key, turning it over in his hands with a furrowed brow. “Sarah, why are you giving us so much?” His voice carried both gratitude and confusion.
Sarah sighed, her smile dimming slightly. “Consider it a gift from your parents,” she said softly. Her eyes grew misty and she clasped her hands together. “They’d be overjoyed to see you two finally married.”
At the mention of my parents, the lively atmosphere instantly shifted. A heavy silence blanketed the room, thick and uncomfortable. The sound of Anne’s fork clinking against her plate was the only noise.
I forced myself to remain calm, ignoring the tightening in my chest. My hand moved toward the plate of sweet and sour ribs in the center of the table, my fork poised to take a piece.
Before I could reach it, a sharp sting shot through my wrist as David slapped it away. “Who told you to eat that?” His voice was harsh, cutting through the awkward quiet like a whip. “Let go!”
Sarah flinched, her startled gaze darting between us. “David,” she said hesitantly, her tone a mixture of confusion and concern. “What’s wrong with the dish? Bianca loves this the most....”
David’s jaw tightened, the tendons in his neck standing out as he visibly struggled with something unspoken. Finally, he exhaled through his nose and muttered, “Nothing. It’s just... her last checkup showed something concerning. This isn’t good for her to eat.”
The tension in the room was suffocating, every word weighted with unspoken emotions. Without a word, I stood, picked up my plate and carried it to the kitchen. The clatter of the plate as I set it on the counter echoed in the empty space, louder than it should have been.
As I turned back, a sudden, heavy thud shattered the fragile silence, followed by two more in quick succession. The sounds were dull yet ominous, like sandbags hitting the floor. My pulse quickened, but my movements were deliberate as I walked back into the dining room.
Three bodies lay crumpled on the ground. Anne’s delicate frame was sprawled near her chair, her makeup smudged as if mocking the perfect image she had projected just moments before. Tom and Sarah lay side by side, their faces pale and lifeless.
David, still conscious, struggled against the paralysis overtaking him. His eyes, wide with a mixture of disbelief and seething hatred, locked onto mine. “Bianca,” he gasped, his voice hoarse and trembling. “What did you do? Are you insane?”
I tilted my head, a cold smile tugging at my lips. “Insane?” I echoed, my tone light, almost mocking. Slowly, I stepped toward the kitchen. I picked up a knife from the counter, its blade gleaming under the fluorescent light.
***
I returned to the dining room and approached Tom and Sarah first. Their faces, so kind and warm in life, were now frozen in expressions of shock. My grip on the knife tightened as I stood over them, my chest heaving with a mixture of exhilaration and cold determination.
Without hesitation, I plunged the blade into Tom’s chest. The knife sank deep, the resistance of flesh and bone giving way to the metallic tang of blood filling the air. My vision blurred with crimson, but I didn’t stop. I moved to Sarah, the blade descending again with unyielding force.
When I was certain they had stopped breathing, I turned to Anne. She had always been so kind, so thoughtful. I couldn’t let her suffer.
Kneeling beside her, I whispered, “Thank you, Anne.” Then, I ended it swiftly.
David was the last. His eyes, filled with raw hatred and betrayal, burned into me as I approached. The tension between us was palpable, an unspoken battle raging in the silence.
***
I set the knife down momentarily and walked to the bedroom, retrieving the book he had gifted me years ago. Sitting cross-legged in front of him, I flipped through its pages, the rustle of paper a strange counterpoint to the carnage around us.
“David,” I said softly, my voice almost tender. “Thank you for this book. It’s been very useful. The book says if a person’s spine is injured, they’ll be paralyzed for life, never able to stand again.”
Standing, I moved behind him, my hand trailing lightly along his neck. “It seems to be... just right here,” I murmured.
Before he could respond, I pressed the knife’s tip against the base of his spine and drove it in. His scream tore through the room, a piercing sound that echoed endlessly. His body collapsed, lifelessly limp, a heap of flesh and shattered nerves.
But it wasn’t enough. Ten years of pain, eight years of torment demanded more. Raising the knife again, I slashed at his legs, severing his tendons with a brutal finality. Blood poured from the wound, soaking the floor in a gruesome tableau.
***
The faint sound of voices outside snapped me back to reality. Neighbors, drawn by the noise, were gathering. My time was running out.
I let the knife slip from my fingers, the clang as it hit the floor reverberating through the room. Walking to the door, I opened it wide, letting the stench of blood drift into the air.
Dragging a chair to the windowsill, I climbed up and began tearing down the wedding decorations I had so carefully placed that morning. One by one, the red ribbons and banners fluttered to the blood-soaked floor like mocking remnants of the life that had been celebrated just hours ago.
The last ribbon fell just as the door burst open and the police stormed in, their voices shouting commands. I turned to face them, my expression blank, as they surrounded me, their guns drawn.
