Hell hath No Fury (Rewritten)

The rain bounced off the table sitting out on the patio. The skies were were grey as Abigail sat from the dining room table with a hot cup of coffee in front her. She never paid any attention of the blood that covered the front of her lavender blouse. Her husband's limp body on the family room floor in front of the fireplace. There was no sense of remorse on what she had done, but hoped that she would continue that feeling. Their marriage had gone downhill the past several years and had no other choice for that matter. For years Abigail had suspicions that her husband was having an affair and she had to find out who it was. While she sat at the table, Abigail replayed the moment he confessed in her mind.

"Who is she!?" Abigail demanded. She tried to hold back her tears with her anger so he wouldn't see. "I want to know who she is!"

"Fine!" he yelled back at her. "I am having an affair! Happy!?"

The both of them fell silent.

While her husband had his back turned towards her, Abigail looked over to the fireplace. There were a couple of fire pokers and never thought on what she was going to do. She advances towards the fireplace and grabbed one of the fire pokers. Abigail wanted to see the look on his face when she was about to end his life.

"You know, Abigail," he began as we walked towards the window. "Since day one after our wedding, you made my life a living hell. I never wanted to move, but nooooo. You wanted to live in a shitty small town of Logan's Creek!

"Do you even know how long it takes me to drive to the city for work?" He looked at her without noticing the fire poker that was hiding behind her back. "Once the divorce settles through, you're getting nothing."

Without any hesitation, Abigail jabbed the fire poker right into her husband's chest. Blood spew all over her blouse and behind her, while her husband fell to the floor. Blood spewed all over her blouse and behind her, while her husband fell to the floor. As she dropped the fire poker to the floor, Abigail knew that the pain wasn't going away.

Over and over, Abigail kept replaying that event in her head as she continued to stare out the window. She held her coffee mug with both of her hands as she couldn't forget who the other woman was. Out of all the women in the world, her husband had to pick her own sister. That's who Abigail was waiting for now. Murdering her own husband didn't faze Abigail one bit. He deserved it like her sister is going to deserve it as well. As Abigail looked at the clock, she only had two hours before her sister, Roxanne showed up. After Abigail had murdered her husband, she had given Roxanne a call. She had asked if she wanted to come over for dinner. Abigail wasn't surprised when she agreed.

Abigail questioned herself over the years on why their marriage was falling apart. She was a little confused with her husband's statement earlier. He complained about the move and the distance from work, but the move was close enough still to his job. It only took him at forty-five minutes from home. Then the truth struck her. Jonathan was in the middle of an affair, but didn't know it was with her sister. Ten years of marriage down the drain and out of all the people who had to ruin it was her own sister.

Time had seemed to move slow as Abigail poured herself another cup of coffee. She noticed that her hands smeared with her husband's blood and didn't bother to clean them. She wanted to show her sister her lover's blood all over her hands and see how she would react to it. For the first time, Abigail was going to get a kick out of that when her sister showed up.

As she stared out the window, the rain came down harder than before, hoping that Roxanne was going to show up. She hoped that her plan would work and that the weather wouldn't interfere. It was going on three-thirty in the afternoon when Abigail heard someone in the driveway. A car door had slammed shut as she began to put a grin on her face. It was time to end her misery and despair as she sat her coffee mug on the counter-top.

"Abigail?" asked Roxanne. "Where are you?"

"I'll be out in a second," Abigail replied. "Why don't you get yourself comfortable in the family room?'

Her sister had always walked through the door without even knocking as she didn't mind. It didn't take long for a scream came from the family room.

"Abigail?!" Roxanne cried. "What happened to Johnny?!" She didn't notice that Abigail was behind her. As she turned around, she noticed that Abigail's blouse covered in blood. "Oh my god, Abigail. What happened?"

As Abigail walked towards her sister and said, "Why would you do that to your own sister, Roxanne?" Without making any eye contact, Abigail walked to the fireplace and picked up the poker and hid it behind her as she continued to walk towards Roxanne.

"What are you talking about?" tears were trickling down Roxanne's cheek.

"Johnny told me everything tonight," Abigail began. "He told me about your affair behind my back over the years. I had my suspicions, but I didn't want to believe that he chose my own sister."

"He loved me and I loved him!!"


"I'm sorry, little sister. If I couldn't have him, you won't be able to have him either." All that rage she had before she murdered her husband was coming back and there was only thing that needed to be done: her sister had to go as well. "If you want to be him so bad, then I'm going to arrange that."

With a blink of an eye, Abigail dug the fireplace poker into her sister. All that rage was finally starting to satisfy her as her sister slowly faded away right next to her lover. Abigail was still surprised that there wasn't any sign of remorse. Her cheating husband was out of her life for good and so was her sister. What could go wrong? As Abigail looked out the window, she noticed that the sky grew very dark as it was time clean up the mess.

What Johnny didn't know was that Abigail had a lot of connections. She called up a friend who helped get rid of them as Abigail burned the bloodied blouse as she cleaned up the fireplace poker that she used to kill her husband along with her sister. Everything had gone to plan and now she could care less on what might happen down the road. They always say, 'Hell hath no fury of a woman scorn.'