The Death of Love

"It's mine, you can't have it" Mirabella said as she washed the porcelain dinnerware gifted to her by Mama Donetti on her wedding day.

"Why did you that? Luka thundered. Apparently repulsed at Mirabella's action.

Drawing a long hiss, irritated at his guts to question her action, she condescendingly retorted. "Because I can! How dare you question me, Luka? Have you forgotten how I picked you from the favelas of Pamplona and upgraded your filthy life? Oh! how quick you are to forget that if it weren't for Mama and Papa's demands, I'd never have ended up with someone as physically repulsive and mentally vacuous as you!"

Jaws widened, shoulders sagged. Nursing a fatal blow to his ego. Obviously dismayed by the astounding revelation of his newly-wedded wife. He questioned "Why would you say that, bella mia?

"Don't patronize me, Luka!" You know from the onset that this is a marriage of convenience. I had to marry you because I couldn't marry Clara. It would have brought Papa's position in the church into disrepute"

Startled by the revelation. Luka defeatedly sank into the multi-colored settee which had a medium sized throw-pillow with their lovestruck pre-wedding photo etched on it.

"Do you mean, everything's been fake? The love, the kisses, the promises, the desire to grow old together in each other's arms. Everything's been fake? Please tell me it's not true amore mia"

Walking towards the sofa where Luka sat. She answered:

"I'm sorry, Luka. I couldn't pretend any longer. I'm repulsed by your touch. I've prayed and cried to the Lord to rid me of this 'disease'---as Papa likes to call it, but he's never listened. As a matter of fact, each time I pray to him, the urge to be with Clara increases.."

"What do you do when the urge increases?" Luka tepidly asked.

Looking away from him, towards a giant sized picture of herself and Clara, hanging on the wall--- taken while they were in college. Smiling, as the memories of their rather tempestuous sexual moments raced through her mind. She answered.

"I touch myself to her picture and moan her name while climaxing.."

The revelation further bewildered Luka and left him ragged. The love of his life, whom he thought he'd spend eternity with, had just confessed to being a lesbian who could never love him as she loves her lover.

Vigorously stroking his full grey beard as if the solution would fall out from it while maintaining the most fierce gaze at her.

He queried, "What do we do then?"

Staring back at him, eyes glistening. She replied "It'd be better if we lived in our truth and acted accordingly"

Further irritated by her tepidly cryptic reply, he angrily prodded "What does that mean, Mirabella Francesca Donetti?"

Sensing Luka's growing rage, and refusing to be diminished by it. She thundered "It means I want to be with Clara! I'm tired of pretending. I want end to this sham of a marriage"

"Alright then. We'll have it your way" Luka replied.

Standing up from the sofa, Luka waltzed into the king-sized bed-room they were supposed to be living in as husband and wife. Bella had only spent a night there. After the wedding night, she moved out and demanded to live in the opposite room. Luka, still basking in the euphoria of being newly married, acceded to her demands.

An unseen force drove a fatal blow into Bella's gut. A staggering jolt of pain assaulted her spine. She doubled over, her legs folding beneath her. She fell down hard on the terrazzo floor. The sight of her own blood gushing from her gut bewildered her.

"What have you done, Luka?" She sputtered.

Giggling mischievously, crouching her ashen face. He retorted. "Oh bella mia, I've only made it easy for you to go be with Clara"

Dumbfounded by Luka's revelation. She managed to mutter." You knew?"

"Yes, Amora mia, I knew. I was waiting for the perfect time to strike. I killed Clara and dumped her wretched body in the Rengan River but that was not before I had the most refreshing sex with her and ejaculated on her humongous breasts. They felt cold at the time and needed warmth. I figured my squirmy jellies would keep them warm. Guess what bella mia?"

Sobbing and looking away from him, she was quiet. Luka sank his talon-like nails into the gaping hole the gunshot had created. She screamed!

He thundered" I said guess!"

Spluttering droplets of blood. A telling sign that she was choking on her blood. She stuttered "I-m s-o-r-r-y, Luka. I d-o-n-t k-no-w... "

Grinning sardonically, he replied. "Fair enough, Bella mia. I'll tell you. My squirmy jellies did keep her warm. Warm enough for me to cuddle her one last time before throwing her filthy body into the body bag and dumping it into the river......"

By the time he was done with his harangue, Bella was long dead. The blood gushing from her gut had coursed to their throw-pillow, encircled it, leaving it drenched.

"Oh poor Bella mia, I see you're quick to leave me here eh? Well you won't be joining Clara until we've had one last dance"

Sliding his pants, he gently stroked his genitals until it became firm. He dipped his index finger into Bella's gut, with blood dripping from it, he made a sign of the cross at the tip of Bella's crotch. Dipping his middle finger this time, he scooped blood from her open gut, placing his talon-like nails above her vulva, the blood dripped inwards. Satisfied at his grotesque invention of lubricating her corpse, he inserted his penis.

As he violated her lifeless body, he yelled, "If I can't have you, no one can. Not Clara, not Jesus not even Satan. You are mine and mine forever"

Minutes later, he ejaculated on Bella's breasts. In the same manner he did with Clara. Zipping his pants, he monstrously quipped "Now that Bella's gone, perhaps I might need to be visiting the morgue often"

Laughing at his decrepit joke, he walked to the kitchen. Picked up the cheese Bella had earlier thrown into the bin---which was the cause of their altercation--- and began eating it.

"Yummy! This tastes better with her saliva, Oh Bella mia, how I'll miss you"

Upon eating to his fill. He went back to Bella's body. Pulling out his 9mm revolver from his holster. He bent over, sitting beside her body drenched in a pool of her blood. He said.

"Oh poor sweet Bella, did you ever think I'd let you go be with Clara all by yourself? Hell No!"

Pointing the gun at his head. He uttered one last prayer.

"Oh Mighty and powerful Satan--King of this world, Prince of Darkness and Emperor of the Underworld.

Unto thy hands do I commit my soul and that of Bella Mia. I have diligently served you and now I return, bringing with me the soul of Bishop Frank Toni Donetti's daughter--- Mirabella Francesca Donetti. I have fulfilled your mission and now have no reason to continue living"

"Kablam!!"

The gun exploded, dropping Luka to his knees, falling over, onto Bella’s body. He died instantly. Not even Satan’s generalissimo could survive a close range shot to the head!