Monsters are Real
Terry sat for a moment in his dirty F-150 exhausted from the day. Happy the weekend had finally come. He cranked the old truck and headed down the highway. The layers of dust from a long days work on a cattle farm in Lubbock, Texas peeled off of him as the cow hand drove into the sunset. This was the best part of Terry’s day. The anticipation of seeing his beautiful wife and two wonderful children put the biggest grin on his face every day no matter what had happened. His two kids Noah and Janie were always in the front yard waiting for their daddy to get home. This was better than any bottle of whiskey Terry had ever consumed. Terry and his wife Joanne had decided to move back to Lubbock from Houston two years ago. They were happy with the choice to get away from the big city and horrible traffic to raise their children in a small, safe town. Terry and Joanne had been high school sweet hearts and had run off to Houston to get married and start their big lives in the big city. After ten years of scraping by Terry figured it was time to get back to what he knew best, cattle ranching, so he could make some real money for his family and live the peaceful life watching his kids grow up. Friday night football games, cheerleading and barbecues in the back yard was his life now. Terry’s stomach filled with excitement as it did every day as he turned on to Jones Farm Road where his house sat at the end.
Terry pulled the truck into the long drive. He could see Joanne sitting on the front porch as usual sipping a glass of sweet tea waiting for her husband.
“Hey baby, where are the kids?” Terry asks Joanne looking around the yard for the kids, waiting for them to jump out of the bushes.
“I sent them to my mothers for the night. My dad had to take some horses to Houston and she wanted the company. I thought we could use some time to ourselves too.” Joanne tells her husband.
Terry kisses his bronze Texan wife and kicks his boots off on to the porch.
“Babe, why don’t you get in the shower and I will come join you with a couple of whiskeys in a minute.” Joanne says to Terry smiling.
Terry turned the show on nice and hot. The near scalding water danced along his bronze farmers tan removing the dirt and manure dust. Terry let the water beat him on the back of the head while he watched the brown murky water roll down the drain. The bathroom door opened and the smooth sounds of George Jones danced in with his naked wife. Terry opened the shower door and grabbed one of the tall whiskeys from Joanne and helps her step into the steaming hot shower.
“Damn, you knew exactly what daddy needed today didn’t you Hun? Terry says putting the two drinks on the shelf and grabbing his wife.
Joanne kisses Terry deeply, “What makes you think this is all for you? Maybe I had a really long day too and need my husband to come home and fuck me.”
Terry smiles and kisses his wife back pushing her up against the wall of the shower. He grabs her by the thighs and picks her up and pushes himself inside her. Joanne’s eyes roll back in her head as the hot water runs over her hard nipples. Terry’s deep thrusting makes her moan loudly.
“Faster, faster gods damn it,” Joanne moans while Terry pushes with all his might. Joanne’s back slamming repeatedly into the shower wall. Joanne leans her head back gasping for air.
“Can you still hear the music, babe? Joanne asks Terry as she wipes the water from her eyes.
“Huh, what,” Terry replies panting from concentrating on his wife’s body.
“Stop for a minute please.”
Terry pretends not to hear her and keeps at his task of fucking his wife as she had demanded.
“Terry, fucking stop for a minute,” Joanna yells.
“What, what is it?
“The music stopped. There are like twenty songs on that cd.”
“Come on babe, screw the music.” Terry picks his wife back up and kisses her neck pushing him self back inside her. Joanne cannot help but relax as she rapidly approaches her climax. The couple moves in unison, almost as if they are one person instead of two. Joanne wraps her arms and legs around Terry while he screams with excitement. Joanne opens her eyes looking over Terry’s shoulder into the bathroom and sees a man standing there watching wearing something on his head. Two eyes stared at her from the holes cut into the makeshift mask.
“Ahhhhhhhhh!” Joanne screams in terror. The glass door opens and the man shoves a pistol into Terry’s mouth before he can turn around completely.
“Get the fuck out here you two fucking rabbits.” Terry moves gently not to upset the revolver resting on his tongue. The man grabs Joanne by the hair and throws her into the bedroom. She laid there sobbing, watching.
“So Mr., we are going to have a little fun this evening.” The intruder tells Terry calmly.
“What did you say Mr.? I did not hear you.”
“Yes,” Terry mumbles as the tears swell up in his eyes.
“Did you have a good fuck? I hope it was great, cause it’s the last one the two of you will ever have.” The intruder removes the pistol from Terry’s mouth and instructs him to walk into the bedroom and lie on the floor. Another man wearing the same potato sack mask walks in and grabs Joanna by the hair and drags her into the living room while the other proceeds to hog tie Terry. Joanne shrieks again.
“The way she screamed in there I bet you can’t help but wonder what I have waiting for you in your living room can you?” The masked man heckles Terry while he drags him into the living room.
Terry begins to sob himself as he sees the horror in his living room. Joanne clings to her husband while she sobs wildly unable to breathe.
“Now, before I finish this little game of cut and bleed, I just have to let you know, this is not personal. We have never met and there is nothing you could have done to stop this. Your house was just in the path of a very sick man. “The masked intruder tells the couple.
“Any thing you want to say, last words if you will.” The man says calmly. He pulls out a large knife from his back and quickly silences Joanne’s sobbing. Her face hits the floor with a dud. Terry clinches his jaw while the man pulls him to his knees. The mans partner is laughing rummaging through the fridge for sandwich meat. The man with the knife pulls Terry’s neck back and slides the sharp blade across it. The blade is so sharp it nicks the bone on its route. Terry hits the floor on the left side of his face. His last moments are spent staring into the eyes of his two dead children. His blood soaks the carpet red.