He was ugly.

There was no denying it. From the stubble on his face to the chocolate brown eyes, the scar on his eye brow and the strength in his body, I could tell he was ugly. He knew his power. He knew how to charm and how to harm. He knew exactly when to smile prettily and when to send brown ice. He was a monster in disguise of my charming stranger, and he knew how well he played it.

No denying it, my family had most likely written him into the will. They didn't think of his long nose, or his stutter, or his liaisons with other women. They thought of him as a perfect gentleman who had eventually married their silly daughter.

The said daughter stood in front of the fireplace, only a silky, expensive sheets wrapped around her. A dog rested by my feet, snoring softly, and my tears continued to fall down on the carpet as I held a letter in my hand.

He was sitting behind me, in the dark. His eyes were shut, but he could not have fooled me. I had been a fool once by believing in something that he had only once allowed me to glimpse. How could I have been so naïve to have him released when he murdered his previous wives.

He sighed, stretching out his legs before stalking up behind me. His arms wrapped tightly around my waist. My dog rose, and scurried away before he could turn his brown ice to it.

"Darlin'," his Southern accent seemed relaxed, "Come to bed."

I laid my back against him, allowing myself to have a little of his comfort. He noticed that I was crying and turned my around. "Darlin'."

His hands, which now shook, wiped the tears away from my face and all I could see was his tender, tender face. He was getting old, and both of us knew it. Order, order in the court

"Why? Why did you do it?"

There was no answer. His lips parted, and his eyes looked guilty. Guilty as charged. He leaned down and made an attempt to kiss my lips. I turned away, so that his lips brushed against my cheek and jaw bone. He sighed tiredly, but kept his arms around me. I did not resist him.

"You would never understand."

His eyes, chocolate eyes that I once had fallen in love with seemed so filled with remorse. He knew he was going to die today, and he wouldn't do anything about it. I raised my revolver to his forehead and he didn't even blink.

"If I kill you now," I whispered, "I would be just like you. But if I don't kill you, you'll kill me."

He didn't answer, but his arms tightened around mine. I found him repulsive, he was ugly. There was no innocence in him.

"And there will be no innocence in you," he said.

"I wish I had never met you," I cried, tears once again refreshed.

"There are so many wishes, but there are also many blessings. You were one of them."

He was a sweet talker. He was a charmer. I had to remind myself that. He was also a liar.

So without waiting any further, I pulled the trigger.

And he was gone.

But I never forgot how beautiful he once had been.


I know once a stranger long ago had told me, ignorance is bliss, I argued with him, if one stays ignorant then one stays in the danger of being hurt later on, whether it is because physically, emotionally or well, any way.

My letter to you, I'm sure, will be a shock. You suspected that your husband may be involved with someone in his office and had contacted me. I found news far much worse. Your husband was married to three other women, one of whom died at the age of eighteen quite mysteriously. The other one is said to have lived lavishly until she found that he had killed a man whom he had thought she was having an affair with. Sometime later, on her twentieth birthday, she was found dead. She was also pregnant. The cause of death was always accidental, but I find it peculiar that your husband was there while each of these deaths occurred. The third wife is still missing.

I think best if you walked out of this marriage now. I know that your family disapproves of divorce, but it seems not only the most intelligent thing to do, but also safe. For your safety and your child's.

Also, something of interest that I found and that I must present to you before you make up your mind to do anything. At the scene of the murder were pictures. At his last victim's home, there was a picture of you. He may have followed your case against the gang that you were defending, and had been stalking you ever since. If you recall, that case was almost ten years ago.

I hope I have helped you. My bill is attached to this letter, but I understand if you pay at another time, considering the amount of pressure around you. I hope everything works out for you.


Lt. Stevens.

Author's note:

Talk about chilly, and horrific! Geez, I was going for something Rebecca-ish by Daphne du Maurier, but hey, my fingers just took over. Anyway, this was just a one shot, so I would truly appreciate reviews! Thank you!