Self-Slaughter

Chapter 3

"YOHANNE!"

A certain man cringed at the sound of his name being called. He was internally shaking in fear for he would probably face the wrath of Lumena just like any other times when he finds trouble. But this time, it was trouble that sought him.

As he went up the stairs and through the hallways, it was as if every step he took leads him to his grave that he himself had dug up. Yes, he asked for it and for every cranking sound that the floorboards made from the weight of his foot, reverberated noises as if telling him 'You're doomed' repetitively like an old mantra.

Even when he was just a few feet away from the room that they shared, he could obviously hear the loud stomps of the mad woman inside as if it were stomps of mad bulls preparing to attack. 'Oh god! She's totally pissed off' he thought as a single bead of sweat rolled down from his sweat-soaked forehead to his cheeks then onto the dark colored hard wood creating a splattering sound.

"YOHANNE! Come here you dummy ASAP!" She's going to kill him alright. His face was drained with colors as he neared the doorway. And right when he reached the gates of hell, his face squarely faced hers just as her cold blue eyes scared the wits out of him.

"Yes peanut? Oh dear you look horrible." He softly muttered and tried to subtly change the subject in hopes to avert her anger for the burnt piece of clothing in her hand just like how he got himself out of trouble last time but it seems that the heavens never sided up with him this time for he found his tactic futile. There before him, lies the evidence of his clumsiness.

'Come on, she can't be that bad. She loves you, a pinch in the ear would probably settle it.' The voice in his head tried to comfort him though he still kept his good distance from the she-devil in front of him. He wasn't totally convinced by his subconscious as he based the possibilities of the outcome from previous experiences.

A scary, sinister smile displayed on his girlfriend's face broke his chain of thoughts. "Yohanne, I feel like brushing my burnt cloth with someone's face today," she stated calmly, her angered face masked by an innocent smile.

"R-really, f-fruitcake?" his voice quivered as his inner self cringed at the thought of his face being comically rubbed against the burnt shirt. "I-I mean isn't that too harsh?"

"You think so?" She raised an eyebrow as her gaze landed on her curled hands in front of her face as if checking her fingernails. 'Definitely one gesture that hints she's bottling anger inside'. "I just brought this tee three days ago and look when I found it this morning all burnt and black. Don't you think the culprit deserves it?"

"No-" he whimpered. "I mean yes but why not forget about it, it's just the two of us living here anyway, who could possibly do such thing unless it's an accident." He mentally cursed for making himself more obvious.

She glared hardly at him which made him gulp. "Oh so you mean, the shirt accidentally burned itself?" She scoffed. "Good contemplation *note the sarcasm*, but not good enough."

"Tell me Yohanne, who could possibly be clumsy enough to burn it?" A hint flashed in her eyes as if indirectly telling him to just spill the beans.

'Come on boy. Tell her, at least she might give you a bit of mercy.' His subconscious encouraged him. He was internally having a mental debate at this moment. 'Yeah, if she even has a bit left.'

"Uh-uhm, peanut?"

"Yes creamy pie?!" She awfully batted her eyelashes to at least conceal the pissed-off-feeling she felt.

'Oh great' he thought. 'He's gonna be flattened tortilla fillings later.' "U-uhm," he stuttered. For once he thought he saw his life flash right before his eyes and came flying out of the window.

"Here it goes," he whispered. "Imayormayhaven'taccidentallyburneditlastnight." He spoke too fast that it would be thought to be low and confusing but for the she-devil with hearing frequencies like that of a bat, she heard it. lOuD and ClEaR.

"Yohanne?" She spoke in a way that her sweet voice would somehow coat hear fury. She took a step forward and seeing that he took a step backwards.

"Y-yes." He cowered and slowly retreats outside the room seeing he still loved to see the next living daylights.

"I'm oh so gonna kill you." She menacingly spoke which alarmed him more.

"H-hey! You love me right?" He nervously chuckled. "Let's talk it out. You know? Just you and me. Two civilized people settling things for some damn burned shirt?"

"Oh so you dare invalidate my rage over a burnt shirt? That was my favourite you dumbass!" He pulled the wrong string which worsely ticked her off. She took another step forward which made him took a step back.

"W-what?! I-I never meant to make it sound like that. Come on peanut?"

"Don't you peanut peanut me!" Right now, he was having another round of internal debate whether to go to her and calm her rage or just simply run off. 'She isn't serious about killing me right?'

"Run." She whispered and therefore confirmed what he just thought and settled his indecisiveness. And off he run away shrieking like a girl.

"I'm so gonna grind your bones to make my bread!" She yelled from the hallway.

"I still wanna live for another eighty fuckin' years!" He shouted back.

He headed to the kitchen with the she-devil pursuing him, hot on her heels. He shielded himself behind the big round dining table as she chased him around it. The game-of-tag-like chase seemed to go on endlessly as the chaser and the pursued made a complete fool of themselves by dottily running around the dining table.

After a good thirty minutes, they were completely out of breath. Now they were slumped across each other on the kitchen floors with the spatulas, frying pans, some paints? messed around them.

"Let me die an old man, warm in my bed." He desperately called while he was out of breathe.

"You mean weakshit, stinky, old man?~" She wiggled her eyebrows teasingly.

And just by watching her face hinting mischief, he just felt something hard between his legs.

"Oh you asked for it." He smirked mischievously.

"Asked for what?" She tilted her head in utter confusion.

"You woke my beast from it's slumber." He crawled to her as if she was his prey to which she was oblivious.

"Oh so you still remember that line from the poem I gave you?" She smiled at the memory. "Wait it wasn't beast, it was demon!"

She was startled all of a sudden when someone scooped her bridal style. She looked up and met the piercing hazel eyes of her Yohanne. His eyes look like that of a tiger that is about to gobble up its prey.

"H-hey you completely misunderstood of what I mean b-by what I said right? Y-you didn't mean it like that r-right?" She stuttered.

She looked at him in outright disbelief, completely hard for her to take in all at once the events of their fight to foolish chase earlier to just turn into something kinky.

"Maybe, maybe not?" He chuckled and off they went to a vacant room next to their bedroom to do something.

Something dirty.