The Seven Deadly Sins: Rage

"What's with the tape on her eyes?"

"That's another bloody weird thing. Her face was all out of shape and even when she was unconscious her eyes were wide open and the bottom lids were all droopy."

"What, like this?" Dave grabbed one of his own bottom eyelids and pulled it toward his chin.

"Yes, exactly like that."

Dave bent to within inches of Lisa's face until he saw what he already knew was there. His nose picked up the distinct smell of burnt flesh.

"Needle marks."

"What?"

"Her face is covered in needle marks. Get the lab to check for Botulism."

"Why Botulism?"

"Because, I found out recently that she's having an affair with one of the technicians from the cosmetic clinic I work at. I think the stupid prick stole some Botox and injected her face sometime in the last three hours. Somehow, he fucked it up. Buggered if I know what happened to the rest of her face though."

"Botulism make sense."

The hospital doctor ran to the phone and rang the lab. Dave made his escape. What was left of his conscience was clear. He had indirectly helped the police with their enquiries and maximised Lisa's chance of survival. Once diagnosed, Botulism has only a fifteen percent fatality rate. Considering the damage to her face, Dave wondered if letting her die wouldn't be kinder. The offended beast still wasn't feeling generous, though. Oh no; Lisa was about to find out there were far worse things than dying.

That was the last time Dave visited Lisa in hospital. Her parents took her back in, after her release four weeks later and kept him appraised of her condition. Her face was still practically paralysed and would be for another two months or so. She couldn't speak properly or chew. Her legs were too weak and wobbly for her to walk and she even had trouble controlling her arms. She had to communicate by typing things on a keyboard. That was all temporary, though. The damage to her mouth was more serious and would require multiple corrective surgeries. Dave paid her reasonable expenses, but made it known he wasn't interested in any cosmetic costs.

He was interviewed by the police, of course, but with a cast-iron alibi, he was never a serious suspect. They already had their man.

Stewart was caught and confessed to what he'd done. He was charged with assault causing actual bodily harm. The source of the corrosive liquid that had eaten half of Lisa's face remained a mystery. Stewart was fired for theft of company property. Dave smiled when the company instituted a rigorous new control system to account for all drugs on the premises. Slam that stable door!

Lisa had begged, through her mother, for Dave to come and see her. He flatly refused. A month after her release, her well-publicised plight ensured she was taken on pro bono by a divorce lawyer. Papers were served on Dave seeking seventy percent of their marital assets. Dave's own legal adviser suggested that due to her needs and his earning capacity, sixty percent was a shoe-in. Dave had set his own arrangements in motion six weeks before that.

After the divorce was served, the requests from Lisa stopped. A month later, Dave rang Lisa's mother and said he was coming over. He walked into her bedroom at her folk's place. The room was darkened and Lisa had a veil across her lower face. She was trying to force a smile but even in the darkness, Dave could see the hostility in her eyes. Lisa figured she had him over a barrel and he had come to beg her to let him keep more of his wealth. She was going to enjoy this. After the settlement, she would have enough funds to get herself fixed and still be able to live fairly comfortably. Poor Dave. He still was a schmuck and a naïve cash cow.

Dave sat down on the edge of her bed.

"So, Lisa. How are you enjoying my option three?"

The smile immediately disappeared from what was visible of Lisa's face. In that moment, with those words, she knew. All this time, she had blamed Stewart for some uneducated mix up. Now she knew. Her jaw dropped and her mind was a whirl. Dave continued.

"Just so you know, I've sold both houses and my car. I've donated most of the money I have to an overseas charity except a small trust for your parents to look after your day-to-day needs. I know maths was never your strong point, so I'll tell you what that means. Seventy percent of fuck all is fuck all. I'm leaving the country tomorrow and joining Medicins san Frontieres. In case you don't know, they're a charitable medical group that help out in all the world's trouble spots. I've volunteered for Syria. Hopefully, I can save a few lives before the great redeemer takes my pain away. It doesn't pay a salary, I'm afraid. Good luck finding another sugar daddy looking like you do."

With no particular pleasure, Dave watched Lisa lose it completely. A combination of crying and yelling through a throat that was no longer up to the job and lips that couldn't form proper words. She kept it up until she collapsed exhausted. Dave spent the time looking around the room. He reached over and picked up a bottle of sleeping pills off the bedside table and read the label.

When Lisa finally stopped making all sound, Dave spoke his last words.

"Watch out for them pills, they're very strong. Any more than about four of them and there's no guarantee you'll wake up in the morning."

He paused on his way out the door and looked at the woman he had loved unconditionally for over nine years.

She didn't return his gaze. She was too busy looking longingly at the bedside table.

Dave let himself out.

EPILOGUE

Seven months later, Stewart wasn't enjoying his time in prison. His blond hair and good looks ensured he got a lot of attention of the wrong type. In perpetual fear, he spent most of the time outside his cell out in the exercise yard in a quiet corner.

Today, his and the guard's attention was taken by a ruckus down the other end of the yard. Suddenly, a huge arm came from behind and put him in a headlock. Immobile, he saw another arm come into view holding a syringe. A sharp jab indicated when it punctured one of the veins in his neck. All he could think of was, 'Thank god, there's nothing in the syringe,'

As the syringe, with plunger fully depressed, came back into view, a voice growled, "Dave said to say hi."

Stewart had never heard of an air embolism. His last twenty minutes on earth were very unpleasant.

Dave always keeps his promises.

THE END

When someone cheats, everyone loses. Don't do it.

Again, I had trouble writing the 'gay' scene in this. In fact, to be honest, I haven't enjoyed something that much since I last got my cock caught in my zipper.

Now lighten the fuck up.

Paddy goes to the doctor, having problems with premature ejaculation.

The doctor tells him that when he feels himself cumming, to give himself a fright by firing a starter pistol in the air to prolong the sex.

Two days later, the doctor sees Paddy and asks how he went.

Not good. We were in the 69 position when I felt myself cumming, so I fired the gun.

Mary shit in my face, bit the end of my cock off, and the milkman came out of the closet with his hands up.