Martha

The Reaping

Robert glanced around the small guest room as his dearest cousin finished putting sheets on the bed. The walls were painted crimson red, and there were several pieces of medieval art hanging on them.

There was one portrait of a naked woman being crucified by two male soldiers, and another portrait of Jonah the prophet being spewed out of the mouth of the whale that swallowed him.

While Robert was thoroughly creeped out by his surroundings, he was grateful that he didn't have to drive home in the nasty storm that was brewing outside.

"Thanks again for putting us up on such short notice, Lydia." He said as he plopped down on the twin bed. "I promise we will be out of your hair first thing in the morning."

"It's no trouble at all."  Mrs. Crenshaw insisted, handing him an extra blanket.  "I know it wasn't easy for you to come here today, and I want you to know that I appreciate it."

Robert rubbed the back of his head.  "Tania owed you an explanation.  I'm sorry she was so rude about it.  The poor girl has absolutely no class."

Mrs. Crenshaw sat down next to him and put her hand on his.  "Why do you stay with her?  She is a nasty person.  You deserve so much better."

"Nah, not really.  Tania is the only gal that will put up with me."

"Even so, I think you should leave her."  Mrs. Crenshaw responded before standing from the bed.  She walked towards the door and stopped before leaving the room.  "One day she is going to reap what she sows, and it would probably be best you weren't around when it happened."

"You almost sound like you want something bad to happen to her, Lydia."

"Maybe I do."

With that, she walked out of the room.

Robert sighed and laid down on the bed.  His cousin was right about his wife being a bad person.

Tania was a selfish woman who only cared about being beautiful and being rich, and she didn't care who she hurt as long as she got what she wanted. 

She was the kind of person that would watch a family be torn apart, just so she could have some good gossip to share with her friends.

Most everyone that knew Tania Crenshaw hated her. 

But no one could have guessed that she was about to pay the ultimate price for her evil ways.

***

Tania sat in front of the large vanity mirror, brushing her beautiful blonde hair. 

She was not impressed with the accommodations of the guest bedroom, and she made sure that Simon knew it while he helped her get settled in. 

The wallpaper was hideous, and there was a large water stain on the blanket she was supposed to cover herself with.  She rolled her eyes and placed her brush back into her purse, grudgingly stripping her clothes off, climbing into the musty bed.

This was not how she intended to spend her evening.  She only came because her hard ass husband demanded that she apologized.

Everyone assumed she was the whore, when in reality, Michael Crenshaw was the one who came on to her.

'My family doesn't have to know,' He said, stroking her hair, 'Lydia hardly makes love to me anymore, and a man needs that intimacy.'

'What about your kids?'  Lydia asked, 'What will they do when they find out their daddy is a bad boy?'

'Ooooh, say that again, baby?'

'You're a bad boy, Michael.'

Tania shut her eyes in an unfruitful attempt to fall asleep.  She listened as the storm grew more intense.

She wanted so badly to leave the creepy house and return to the comfort of her own luxurious home, but her husband refused to drive home in the nasty weather.  "Stubborn ass..." She grumbled to herself, as she lied in the dark, lonely room.

She was certainly going to make him pay for not giving her what she wanted.  She would start by giving him the silent treatment, then she would taunt him about the numerous affairs she had with other men while he was away on business. 

Robert was a sentimental fool, and she knew the best way to make him suffer was to show him that she was lusted after by nearly every man she met. 

He often worried that he would lose her, and that was exactly how she wanted it. 

She wanted him to be putty in her hands.

The sweet thoughts of controlling her husband eased her mind, and she finally drifted off to sleep.

She was in the middle of a wonderful dream about sleeping with the mayor of her town when she felt someone lightly tapping on her shoulder .

She opened her eyes to see the dark silhouette of a small figure standing above her, holding a large silver knife. 

Was she having a nightmare?

No, it was too real.

Panic flowed through her, and she tried to scream, but the knife was plunged into her throat before she could make a sound.  She gurgled as blood filled her mouth.  

The last thing she saw before the life left her was
the white bandage that covered one of the eyes of her murderer.

The same kind of bandage worn by Martha.