I was sitting on the toilet taking a dump when the ski-masked man burst into my bathroom and tried to knife my neck.
There was no way to prepare for something like that.
I mean, I was butt naked pooping on my own toilet at 2am with my wife in the next room snoring in our bed. Then suddenly a knife was nipped at my neck by some ski-masked man dressed like a damn ninja.
Talk about shocking and scary.
I acted on instinct by standing up and reaching out towards my attacker. Largely by luck I caught the knife thrust like a softball that punched into my palm. The blade skewered my hand and jammed as I grappled the guy.
There was an immensely ugly unicorn ceramic light on the counter right beside me. I always hated that thing. I snatched and smashed it against his head. Although the lamp shattered to smithereens, the inner metal core remained intact and ironically that metal core went right into the unicorn’s horn. I proceeded pummeling and perforating the perp stabbing and ramming him with that improvised weapon. I literally stabbed him to death with a unicorn’s horn.
I saw red and didn't stop flogging the felon until my wife's screams shook me out of my tunnel vision. I found myself spattered in blood from head to toe and the man's masked head was a slashed and smashed red ruin. His knife remained jammed in my hand.
Of course my wife called the cops and they quickly arrived to separate us for questioning.
I was completely honest with the cops. I was taken to the hospital and doctors fixed up my hand. My wife was kept away from me during this period by the cops questioning her.
It was hours later when I was released from the hospital that the cops insisted I just needed to clear up a few final questions. I refused to go to the station again, so they conducted the interview right there in my hospital room.
"How long were you aware that your wife was having an affair with Jay Horn?" The tall obese bald middle aged white detective asked me.
I was completely shocked. “What?"
"Hey. I don’t blame you for being so pissed. The guys banging your wife and then he has the nerve to do it in your house too? I understand man. You caught them together and got pissed off and he probably came at you. You just lost control during the fight."
I was flabbergasted but catching on "I don’t know what you're talking about. I want a lawyer."
The cop was pissed. "Look, if you quit talking to me I can’t help you anymore. Then it goes to the DA. I’m trying to help you here. Don’t try to act innocent. You knew this guy was banging your wife. Hell your neighbors even knew. You stabbed and bludgeoned that guy so many times he's barely recognizable. You wouldn't go that far over a home intruder. And that stab in your hand looks self-inflicted. Just be honest now. It'll help you in the long run."
"I want a lawyer." I insisted.
***
"You were screwing that guy?" I shouted at my wife, Heather.
"No," Heather tried to lie.
"Quit lying," I told her grimly. “The cops know that you were screwing him. They're trying to file charges on me for killing him."
Heather looked alarmed, but her big blue eyes were still calculating. I cursed. I knew that look and then I no longer had any doubts. Heather was a beautiful blond with big blue eyes and fine figure, but she was also an alcoholic and manipulator. We'd been married five years and the honeymoon was over, but I still loved her and it hurt like hell that she'd cheated on me.
"Heather, my hurt feelings or your excuses and denials don’t help us now. That detective wants to press charges on me. I don’t want to go to prison."
"But it was self-defense. He broke in, “Heather argued.
"Heather, if he was a stranger that broke in that would be one thing. But you were screwing this guy and I stabbed him so many times it looks like overkill. I'm going to need your help on this. We have to have the same story or I'm going to end up in prison."
"Of course. Jack." She assured me sincerely while batting her big blue eyes.
I had a sinking feeling in my gut.
***
The cops arrested me six days later.
They waited until I was walking out of my job and pounced in a pack on me by my car. I was hauled to jail. I called Heather.
“I need you to bail me out. They arrested me for manslaughter,” I blurted to her on the phone.
“I’m not going to help you Jack, unless you do a few things for me,” Heather replied coldly.
I was struck speechless, but not completely shocked. “What do you want Heather? And keep in mind that they record these calls.”
“I want out of this marriage. I want the house and my car and all our assets and everything that’s in the bank,” she bluntly demanded.
I was in no position to argue. “Sure, Heather. Let’s just get me out of here and we’ll work it all out the way you want,”
“I want it in writing first. I have an attorney. I’ll send her to see you. “Heather informed me.
“Heather, I’m in jail. It could take your lawyers days or weeks to get here.”
“No. I’ll make sure she comes right away. I have to go now. I have another call.”
Heather hung up on me.
To say I was both heartbroken and terrified would be an understatement. But I’d been through a lot of hard times in life. I’d grown up poor in the ghetto and I’d dabbled on the dark side before going the legal route in life. I’d endured many betrayals and had been in jail on a few brief occasions when I was younger. I was a stocky, rugged-looking white guy that most men preferred to avoid fighting. I was able to keep the jail predators at bay. I forced myself to deal with my new nightmare.
Luckily I had a plan B already in motion.
***
Heather was more than a little shocked when her lawyer discovered I was already out on bail. She immediately cleaned out the joint bank account and filed for divorce demanding everything. I got a voice message from Heather and her lawyer advising me that if I wanted her assistance with my manslaughter charge that I’d best cooperate.
I met them both at my lawyer’s office and let him do the talking for me. My lawyer Bob was a middle-aged, bald, obese, homely man, but he was a very smart man.
“Before we go any further I think we should all look at a few things I have here,” my lawyer started the ball rolling nicely.
Heather’s attorney tried to object. She was a tall, very thin, attractive, but stern–looking blond- haired, green-eyed woman.
Bob just turned on the big screen TV.
The TV showed a recording from our neighbor’s webcam. He hated cops and didn’t like Heather either because she had called the cops on him twice for noise complaints. When he heard she was divorcing me and trying to take everything and blackmail me, he voluntarily provided what he’d kept. hidden before. It was video recordings that showed the guy I killed routinely going into my place after I went to work. It also recorded him the night he broke in. That proved he wasn’t in the house by permission. He invaded my home at night.
“Funny thing,” my lawyer continued. “The police found a key to your backdoor in the deceased man’s pocket. I think that’s very strong evidence that your client was having an affair with him and gave him a key to enter. That opens her up to legal issues, because she might have tried to have my client murdered by giving her lover the key.”
Heather’s lawyer objected again. My lawyer cut her off by playing another recording. It was from a hidden webcam I put in the house after the murder. It caught Heather on the phone with her girlfriend and she was talking about how she had me by the balls and was going to get everything from me. She also discussed how much she missed the dead man and wished that it was me that died that night.
“That could all be AI generated,’ Heather’s lawyer blustered.
“We’re willing to let a jury decide,” my lawyer assured her.
Both ladies looked sick.
“How could you do this to me, Jack?” Heather demanded furiously.
I blinked and felt stupid that I’d ever loved her.
**
I got the manslaughter charge dismissed without a trial.
Heather and I got divorced and she received a lot less than she wanted due to the proof of her carrying on an affair with a man that tried to kill me using a key that she clearly gave him.
I vowed to never marry again and considered myself lucky to have escaped the relationship alive and not in prison with a good chunk of my assets still mine.
Ain’t true love grand?
The End
Bio:
Tom Kropp’s work has appeared in The Horror Zine, J Journal, Chiron Review, Churches, Children and Daddies, Down in the Dirt, Freedom Fiction Journal, Short-Story Me, Blood Moon Rising, Dark Harbor, Flash Phantoms, You Phantomaniacs Anthology, The Listening Eye, Evening Street Review, Conceit, Spotlight on Recovery, Outdoor Life and Muscle and Fitness. His play Jailhouse Confessions was performed at the Kennedy Center in 2019. He has numerous novels and audiobooks available free at Google Play Books and Smashwords. You can read more of his writings at https://tomkropp.wordpress.com.