"Earl, come downstairs food’s ready," Lisa beckoned, "it's going to start getting cold."

Earl remained in the closet, a crowbar firmly in hand. He drew in a deep breath through his nostrils then held it as beads of cold sweat poured down his forehead, stinging his eyes. Biting a trembling lip, he pulled his shoulders inwards and sunk deeper into the back of the closet.

"Earl? Where are you?" Lisa called, "I've been waiting for you to come home from work all day, and now you're hiding like some little kid?" she scoffed, pots and pans clattering loudly. "You’re not even coming down to eat the dinner I made?"

Earl was doing his best not to move or make any sound, tightening his shoulders away from the wire hangers tingling gently above him and steadying his feet upon the scattered shoes below. Through a small gap in his hiding place, he kept his eyes carefully trained on the locked bedroom door, barricaded with a large armoire.

"Earrrl," Lisa cooed sweetly, "I know you're here. If you don't come downstairs before I count to five, I'm coming up to get you."

Earl clenched the crowbar as tightly as he could with his clammy hands and his mind raced trying to recall a prayer. The stairs were gently creaking one after the other now, and his stomach knotted and flipped as his heart pounded.

"Ooooone," Lisa playfully drawled.

"Twooo," she continued, dragging her talons across the wall.

"Threeee-hee-hee-hee!" she cackled madly.

"Four," Lisa exclaimed in a guttural croak.

Earl could hear the bedroom doorknob jiggling softly before rising to a thrashing, violent crescendo. Then...

Silence.

Cold sweat poured down Earl's forehead while he silently mouthed expletives to himself. He closed his eyes and taking a sharp breath; made up some sloppy prayer to whatever God might listen.

An explosive clatter pierced the silence as pieces of wood flew across the room. Earl could see Lisa’s tattered arm grabbing wildly through the air, like a ghastly decaying branch. She withdrew and peeked a milky eye through the hole; peeling yellow skin and dead leaves clinging to her skull.

"Oh my god! Earl—was that the armoire my mom gave us for Christmas two years ago? It's mahogany!" Lisa bellowed. "What is wrong with you?!"

Bolting out of the closet, Earl plunged the crowbar directly into his wife's eye and Lisa let out a dreadful scream; howling and lumbering down the hallway like an animal on fire.

A heavy thud echoed in the hall and Lisa’s screams suddenly stopped. Slowly, quiet returned, save for the sound of Earl hyperventilating. He stood in the middle of the room, his shirt, tie, and crowbar now covered in spatters of dark, gooey blood. Earl grimaced at the stench of rot mixing with the rank odour of his sweaty armpits.

"Earl, you know you can't hurt me.”

Earl jumped and rose the bloody crowbar over his head, glaring at the bedroom door.

“You can't hurt me anymore," Lisa sobbed softly. "Now come out of the bedroom and let's have a civilized, adult conversation about how I'm going to bash your skull in for making me break mom's armoire!" she screamed.

"WHAT?!" Earl boomed, grimacing hotly. "I made you smash your mom's armoire? Are you fucking kidding me?"

Lisa sighed. "Earl. Don't start."

"You see! This is why I told you from DAY ONE that counselling was a waste of time!" Earl snarled, "Because you're not interested in changing, Lisa! You're a selfish, big-headed, know-nothing bitch and my only regret was that I didn't run you over twice!"

"Well, actually, you ran me over three times," Lisa said.

"Should've made it four!" Earl snapped, fastening his hands around his weapon. "Listen, I don't know what's going on here, but you better go back to the forest and become compost or I'll smash your goddamn head in for good!"

Lisa scoffed and kicked the door.

"Earl, I'm disgusted by your behaviour towards me right now!” she snapped, “First, you run me over three times. Then you leave me alone—buried, mind you—in the woods for several days. Now I come home, and you're ramming crowbars through my eye; calling me names and threatening me. Do I need to get Dr. Lazar on the phone?"

"NO!" Earl screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. "No counselling! No! Fucking! Counselling! What don't you get? Stay dead, so I can enjoy my life!"

"27 years, Earl. I gave you 27 years of my life,” Lisa whimpered, “Does that mean nothing to you? Is this really how you're going to repay me for waiting on you hand, and foot, all this time?"

"Who cares?! You're dead!"

"Earl," Lisa groaned emphatically, "Some people would be glad if they'd ran over their spouse and instead of them staying dead, they'd come back home to patch things up."

Earl's face swelled with boiling rage and confusion. How many more times would he have to say no? How could he ever be free from this pathetic, haggard woman that still refused to let their marriage die? How many times would he have to kill her?

"What exactly are we patching up here, Lisa?” Earl growled, “You've said several times now that you're going to kill me! You even punched a hole through the damn door!"

"Because you wouldn't come downstairs for dinner!"

"You're supposed to be dead! I don't know how many times you need me to say this. Second, I don't eat mud and worms, Lisa!"

"You don't?"

"Enough!” Earl roared, foaming at the mouth, “If you try and come in here, I'm bashing your fucking skull in!"

"All right,” Lisa said, “Well, if you don't come out here, I'm breaking in there, and bashing your fucking skull in!"

"FINE!"

"FINE!"

Earl dashed across the room towards the window as Lisa repeatedly flung her body against the door. Earl forced his upper body outside into the darkness, his hands gripping at the asphalt shingles of the garage roof. Before he could move any further, cold, sharp claws sank into the bone of his forearm; agony and adrenaline rushing through his body as he screamed. With the full force of his remaining strength, Earl swung the crowbar across Lisa's jaw; teeth and chunks of decaying flesh and bone splattering across the room like grotesque confetti. He tried to propel his body through the window once more but Lisa latched onto him with even greater force; biting into his forearm. Blood spurt through the air as Lisa ravenously pulled Earl closer, sinking her teeth into his jugular and tearing his throat out.

Lisa watched as her husband twitched and gurgled on the ground, an expanding pool of blood now his halo.

"Call me a bitch again," she jeered, spitting chunks of flesh onto the floor. "Almost forgot what a jerk you were, I don't know what I was thinking. I'm going back to the woods. Was better off in that shit grave you dug anyway, at least it was nicer than this house."

Criss-crossing Earl's lifeless body on her way out, Lisa swiftly kicked the corpse between its legs as hard as she could. She found herself somewhat repulsed by the wet squelch that followed, but also felt a deep sense of satisfaction.

"Asshole!" she shrieked, storming out of the room.

Downstairs, the back door slammed and stillness filled the house. The cool summer breeze hushed like a lullaby through the streets.

Lisa soon returned to the bedroom, this time holding a large sledgehammer taken from Earl's shed.

"Oh yeah. Forgot something."

A sly smile spread across the half of her face that remained.

END