To Put Aside the Serpents

The Woman and the Husband loved their son, though he was not their own. Conceived by an affair, and orphaned by the death of her sister, the boy came to be raised by the Woman and the Husband. The boy grew and prospered, and as he prospered so did they. His every success became theirs, the Woman talked of his accomplishments to all she saw. Thus the Woman and the Husband were satisfied with their wonderful life. There were those however that were not content. The Old Wife lived down the street, and she did not approve. Who were these people to raise a child of sin, the Old Wife felt slighted by their happiness, so she fumed and plotted.

There was a dark part of the town, that no one really entered willingly. This was one of those places where the shady people lived their lives in monotony. Always striving to leave, but inevitably never making any progress. It was in this place the Old Wife sought the instrument of her plotting. The Old Wife knew of an Angry One that lived here, who would undertake any sort of task, as long as the price was right. She strode under the streetlight, dogs barking in the night, as if she were the queen of the world. She pounded upon the Angry One's door until he answered. She bemoaned her fallen pride, and agreed to any price. The Angry One, whether moved by her story or her payment, agreed to avenge her. The Old Wife left, walking through a mist of rain, pleased to see her revenge unfold.

He could see them from where he stood in their backyard, light poured from their windows illuminating everything within. He could here there laughter, their happiness, even at a distance. No one else in the neighborhood seemed awake. His snake skin boots echoed on the concrete as he walked beside their pool. How could they not hear his coming? They only had to glance outside to see him, but the Woman and the Husband were blind to their fate. The Angry One bellowed as he kicked down their burnished oak door from its hinges. He stalked into their house, fire bursting from his hand as he shot with his pistol. The Woman screamed in terror, the Husband froze in fright. This fear would be his undoing, as he was the first to feel the bite of the Angry One's bullet. Pain blossomed in his mind like a searing madness. The Angry One fired again and again and again at the Husband, until only the walls held any semblance of the man he once was. The woman ran, mad with grief, fear aiding her feet, but it was all for naught. The Angry One opened fire once more, and then she too felt the bite of his bullets. She fell into the pool, it was so much warmer than she expected, its waters like a final, loving embrace. His work done the Angry One sank back into the night, his boots so quiet now as he walked away.

It was all anyone could talk about the next day. The housewives cried and shook as they called one another. Each one not so aghast at the tragedy, that they couldn't call everyone that they knew. Oh didn't you hear, the Woman next door, shot dead in her home. The whole town was so mortified by this cruel and senseless act. All except the Old Wife, she peered out her window as they wheeled the bodies away, and smiled inwardly at every conversation she overheard about the event. Such irrelevant women she thought, as they chattered away like gulls to the woman who had arranged it all.