Today, my auntie told me a diabolical story she read in some shitty tabloid newspaper. It’s a true story, she said, and of course, I believe her. I don’t remember the title but the story illustrates in the best way the sinister spirit. So here it is:
There was once a man, called Johnny, who spent many years in prison for killing his wife. Not that he didn’t love her. In fact, he loved her so much that he got terribly jealous. One day, thinking she betrayed him with another man, in the surge of emotions, he smashed her head with a hammer. When he realized the horror of his deed, he wept and moaned but it was to late. His wife was dead and he found himself behind the bars. In prison he was so kind and humble that he was released earlier for good behavior.
When he came back home, he became a nature lover. He fed hungry birds in winter and started keeping hens. He also cared for stray dogs. But he had one favorite pet he loved fiercely; a little, nearly miniature cock, he called “Lilipucik”, which is a Polish diminutive name for a midget.
One winter morning, on his way to work, he met a homeless man. He was so hungry and looked so miserable that Johnny took pity on him and decided to take him to his home. The homeless man was really grateful and did all the work around the house. Every day, Johnny came back home, there was a hot meal waiting for him.
You know what I long for? – Johnny said to the homeless man – a good hot chicken soup. Kill one hen and cook the soup for me.
So the homeless man got up in the early morning, took an axe and started wondering which hen is most suitable for his benefactor’s dinner. Suddenly, he noticed a tiny thin cock staggering in the yard. Meh – he said to himself – this cock will be dead in no time. Why waste its meat?
And he chopped off Lilipucik’s head.
Johnny came back home and at the doorstep he felt the delicious smell of a soup. Oh how horrified he was when he saw his beloved little cock boiling in the pot! He didn’t listen to the homeless man’s feeble explanations, he wept and shouted at him. “What did you do?! How could you kill my Lilipucik?!” He threw his things out of the house and told him to go away.
The homeless guy shrugged his shoulders, thought the man was crazy, and went his way. Meanwhile, Johnny stopped weeping, looked again at the pot and felt his own head getting hot with surging fury. He took the axe, still stained with Lilipucik’s blood, got on his bike and followed the homeless guy. Finally, he reached him.
You know what it is? – he said showing him the axe – It’s the same axe you killed my little cock with. My dear Lilipucik, whom I loved so much. Now this very axe will chop off your head.
And he smashed the homeless man in the head.
A few months later, Johnny stands before the court.
It’s your second crime, your second murder – the judge says – you deserve the life sentence. Do you have anything to say in your defense?
It was love, Your Honor. – Johnny says – I did it all for love. I loved my wife so much that I killed her. And I loved my cock so much that I killed the motherfucker who dared to take his life. Without my little cock, life is worthless to me.
Bye my Lilipucik. Bye.
And little Johnny, totally devastated, rots in his cell.
Good morning said the dog walking a kid on a leash. Good morning I answered politely but couldn’t help chuckling. Yeah, it was the dog walking the kid, not the other way round. That damn dog was bigger than her, an eleven-year-old daughter of my neighbors who have just moved in. Totally irresponsible people. They should have bought a smaller dog. This one was too big. It was pulling the child behind itself. But why should I care? Not my business.
I returned to reading the newspaper. It was a beautiful sunny morning, just perfect for sitting on a bench in the park. It was just a bit too noisy for my taste though. Plenty of children running around and playing, neurotic parents calling and shouting at their kids. Total craziness.
Rex! Rex! Come back here! Rex! Rex! Come back! Come back! I looked around. The dog was running around the park with the leash hanging loose and the child was chasing it. Rex! Rex! Rex! Come back! Rex!
Those people are really funny, those who think they can walk the Beast on a leash. Sooner or later, the blessed day comes when the Beast gets out of hand. This is when it becomes beautiful. Chaos unbound, pure evil uncontrolled by anyone. It’s so amusing to see confusion and helplessness on their faces, or even anger, when it dawns on them they are no longer in control, when they see everything fall apart. They wish then they wouldn’t have started playing with fire. They wish they could turn the clock back but it’s too late…
Rex! Come back, Rex! Mommy! Mommy! Rex ran away! Mommy! And the child started crying. Like a puppet on the strings, I thought. It’s too late, my darling, too late…
Don’t worry she said and unzipped his trousers. James doesn’t know anything. Too stupid. He thinks I’m staying late at work. The loser can’t even find a job. I’m wasting my life with him. She was sitting on him and delicately caressing his breast with her tongue. You know how to satisfy your tigress. And she laughed and kept laughing louder and louder and louder…
I put my fingers in my ears but her laughter reverberated all round the room. I let the photos fall on the floor, the photos made by the private detective. She had been cheating on me for two years, fucking her colleague in a cheap motel. The nasty visions were passing rapidly through my mind. I must put myself together. Soon it will be over. I prepared myself for this for quite a long time. Everything will be all right. The doorbell rang.
Oh the dinner is ready! Oh James, how romantic! I took her coat and lighted the candles.
I watched her breathing while she was laying beside me. So peaceful and serene. I had put enough of sedatives in her drink. She looked self-confident as usual, even now, when she was sleeping, blissfully unaware of what was going to happen. I pressed the pillow against her face. I waited and watched how her life was slowly leaving her body…
She was always on top of me when we were making love. Always dominating at work, at home and in bed. Now there she was, submissive and obedient, bending unconditionally to my will.
Like a puppet on the strings, I whispered after I got off on her inert body.
It’s too late, honey. It’s too late.