Short Stories Galore

Playing With Matches (Horror)

Title: Playing With Matches

Description: Cheating never prospers. 

Genre: Horror/Mystery

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Furious envy filled my heart as I stared out of the rain splattered window. My lover ran hand in hand with another man through the storm, a giddy grin adorning her face. The coffee cup in my hand fell to the floor with a loud crash, spilling the bitter beverage across the newly fitted carpet. I was too angry to care. I barely noticed the harsh sting on the sole of my bare foot as I crossed the room to the large mirror hanging on the wall, stepping on the shattered china pieces in the process. For a second I stared hatefully at the reflection facing me, not recognising the twisted rage it was showing in my eyes. I was tempted to thrust my fist through the glass, just to watch it crack, but the image of my wife with somebody else invaded my thoughts and my chest hardened. With a steady hand, I gripped the edge of the mirror and pulled, watching it open like a cabinet, revealing the hidden compartment inside.

There were only two items on the shelf; a pen and a box of waterproof matches. I took them and hastily put them in my pocket. Avoiding the broken cup on the floor, I looked out of the window again. The rain had picked up in its intensity and a loud clap of thunder shook the window frame. It was too difficult to see now, but I knew where my wife would have gone. Hyde Park. It was walkable distance from our apartment and had a lovely shelter, perfect from the ferocious storm that was about to hit us.

With anger still running through my veins, I grabbed my coat and shoes and headed into the night. The minute I stepped off my front door, the wind and rain battered me from all sides and I could barely hear myself think. Every now and then lightning would streak throughout the sky, lighting it up to the point where it looked like the sun had rose early.

London was quiet at two in the morning and I safely crossed the roads without anybody bothering me. It was freezing, the cold seeping into my bones and my boots, causing me to quiver and wrap my coat around myself tighter. As I neared the entrance to Hyde Park, my heart started racing in anticipation. It was as if a sick part of me longed to catch my wife red-handed even though I told myself to give her the benefit of the doubt.

The trees of Hyde Park loomed over me, twisting and turning in the night, their shadows obscuring my view. Fortunately I knew Hyde Park better than I knew my own house and I crept quietly down the gravel path, keeping my ears open for the tell-tale sign of my wife- a giggle, a cough, anything. Rain water ran down my arms and face, causing my flesh to raise and I kept a protective hand in my pocket, keeping the objects there safe.

I neared closer to the special shelter in the park that my wife and I used to share picnics with on a regular basis. Anger flared its ugly head again and I took deep breaths to try to stay calm. I needed to keep a clear head for this to work. I could just make out the small structure in the dark when suddenly a sharp laugh carried over the storm. I froze in my tracks, heart pounding in my ears. When it didn’t happen again, I walked quietly towards the shelter, keeping hidden behind the trees. Even though I knew the probability of them hearing or seeing me was slim, I still wanted to make sure.

Crouching behind a large oak tree, I could see into the shelter where a sudden flickering light could be spotted. My wife and the unknown man were sitting, cuddled together on the seat, a torch placed between them. Seeing them in a position only my wife and I were allowed to be in caused murderous rage to rise within me and I restrained myself from racing out of my hiding spot and stopping the betrayal that was happening before me.

The man whispered something in my wife’s ear and she giggled, curling up closer to him. I felt sick to my stomach, wanting to look away but unable to, torturing myself. The man moved a strand of my wife’s dark, brown hair out of her face and my hands balled into fists in response.

When their lips touched my control snapped and I turned away, blinking furious tears from my eyes. With trembling hands, I grabbed the items from my pocket, letting jealousy and rage control my actions. I was no longer thinking for myself. Using the pen, I scribbled something quickly on the back of the box of matches. Taking a deep breath, I took one match.

Strike.

The flame went out. The match broke.

I took another one.

Strike.

The flame caught and my heart leapt. Looking on the forest floor I saw the number of leaves and twigs adorning it, however, they were slightly wet from the rain. I prayed to God that the fire would catch and with that thought, threw the match onto the nearest pile of leaves, the ones closest to the shelter. For a moment nothing happened and I was just about to try again when a sudden spark caught my attention. My eyes widened as the spark grew to a small flame and caught onto the leaves around it.

It was shocking how fast the fire started to spread, but hearing the screams of my wife and her partner was worth it. With a small smile I took one more look at the match box with the words, ‘I’ll see you in hell. Love, your faithful husband,’ scribbled hastily on itand then threw it into the fire. Just as the flames licked the shelter, I turned around and walked back the way I came.

I think I deserved a nice cup of coffee.