Yukon - She Never Knew The Real Me

Then I skipped down the trail toward the cave, feeling very pleased with myself. Carrying everything inside, I started a small fire to heat up the space and ate a can of peaches. It was almost 4:00 AM, so I laid down on my sleeping bag and fell asleep instantly.

Waking up, I could see by my watch, the time was just half-past twelve. Refreshed, I opened two cans, peaches, and baked beans and ate them cold from the cans. Then, I dressed and wiggled through the opening in the cave wall leading outside. I stopped a few feet from the opening and listened. I stood there for almost two hours when I heard very faint voices. The voices were becoming louder as they were getting closer, heading back toward the cabin.

"Why is it my fault he ran off?" That was Helen.

"You're his wife, and you gave up on him. Well, if he disappears and isn't with you when you go back, you can explain. I was never here. We need to check the pantry to see what he took to eat with him. At least now we don't have to worry about him causing...." Pierre's voice faded off in the direction of the cabin.

I slipped out and peeped around the corner, looking in the direction of the dock and the cabin. I could see movement through fir trees, so I followed them slowly on the path. I could barely see them walking side by side, so I wouldn't be seen following them if I moved slowly enough. Now I was the hunter, and Pierre was the hunted one, and I hated him.

Helen, well, I didn't know her very well after five years of marriage.

The trees were thinning out as the clearing came into view, so I stopped and squatted down behind a pair of fir trees, side by side. Pierre and Helen were standing on the porch talking, but I couldn't hear them as I was fifty yards away. Helen went into the cabin, and Pierre went toward the back of the cabin, to the outhouse.

A minute later, Helen flew out of the doorway and ran around the side; she appeared to be yelling. Half a minute later, She ran back inside, and Pierre followed, fastening his pants. A couple of minutes later, he came back on the porch and slowly looked back and forth, appearing to study the woods around him for any movement. Finally, he spun around and stormed back inside, slamming the door.

I retreated toward the cave and collected another pile of branches for burning. As the sun was setting below the horizon, I ate and enjoyed my beef stew, knowing I would spring my trick on them tonight. Taking my clothes out of one backpack as sunset arrived, I hung it over my left shoulder and grabbed a flashlight, then walked back towards the scene of my fantastic honeymoon.

I arrived at 8:50 and waited behind the two trees I had hidden behind earlier. A little after 9:00, they both came out and headed to the outhouse. When they were done and back inside, I quietly strolled to a spot just next to a bedroom window. I heard grunts, moans, and cries as they fucked.

After a loud finish, Helen started talking, "I offered to fuck him as you told me to, and he said; until I slit your throat, got a pregnancy test, and was screened for STD's, he wouldn't sleep in the same room as me. He hates me now. How did my honeymoon turn into this?"

"You have BDD."

"BDD? What is that?"

"Before I exposed myself to you on the boat, your BD disease was in remission. But, after you saw my magnificent organ, your BIG DICK DISEASE was back, and there is no cure." He laughed, and she snickered.

Who in the Hell are you, Helen?

"Shut up and get me hard again, and be quick about it or I'll tan your tit's with my belt again."

Hearing Helen sucking on Pierre's elephant trunk was my cue to sneak in. I walked around the cabin to the porch and quietly opened the door. Closing the door behind me, the fire in the stove lit the room up enough that I could see. I took the can opener, peeling knife, cooking knives, matches, and the rest of the cans of food in the kitchen and quietly loaded everything into my empty pack. I looked around before leaving and spotted his bowie knife on the couch, partially hidden by a sofa pillow.

Oh, I was so tempted to charge into the bedroom with that knife and killed them both, but I knew how strong he was, and I would need a lot of luck to defeat him with brute strength. I picked up the knife, attached the sheath to my belt, and walked out of the cabin, heading down the granite path, making sure to leave a trail that even Helen could follow.

Walking at a fast pace, I used the flashlight to light the way. When I finally reached the split in the path, I took the right branch, leaving muddy footprints and disturbed leaves and pine needles like I was running, before stopping at the crevasse.

I poked my finger with a stiff pine needle and dropped about a dozen drops of blood onto the rocks on the edge of the precipice. Smearing the drops around, I also wiped some blood on the strap of the backpack. I used Pierre's bowie knife and poked tiny holes in a line across the strap, weakening it enough that I was able to tear the strap apart. After smearing more blood on the pack, I laid on my belly and rested the backpack on a ledge two feet below the end of the path. I spent the next ten minutes dripping blood around the edge, and on the shelf, the pack was sitting on.

Satisfied with my work, I returned to my cave made a cooking fire, warming up some soup for an early morning snack. Then I stood by the cave entrance, listening for my friends, as the rays of the sun shined through the canopy of the forest. It was 7:00 AM, and I knew he would pursue me along the path he thought I was taking. A little after 8:00, I heard both of them moving along the path, not speaking at all. If they walked to where I faked my death, it would be 8 to 9 hours before they would be back. I set my watch alarm for seven hours later, undressed, and went to sleep.

I awoke, feeling the vibrating of my watch tickle my wrist. After turning the lantern on, I got dressed in some clean clothes and ate a tin of tuna fish. I stood out by the entrance and daydreamed while I waited. I brought up memories of our wedding, the first time we had sex, and two vacations we took to the tropics. How did it all go so wrong? I tried to picture her face but kept getting images of them fucking in bed.

I jerked back to reality upon hearing a voice that was getting louder, coming closer, so I watched until they passed by. I looked around the corner and could see Helen was still keeping up with him. They both seemed very angry. I knew I had to sneak down and listen from outside the bedroom window as soon as it got dark.

As the sun was setting, I started a fire and ate beef stew for dinner. I checked my watch, and it was 8:15. Dressing up warmly, I headed down the trail to the clearing and hid behind my two fir trees, Frick and Frack. So, sue me, I named the trees, big deal. They each had a Christmas tree shape and a strong pine odor.

Crouching down and waiting until the last outhouse visit of the night, I reflected on how quickly the life path you created with your partner could turn into a pile of shit. Helen and I never really knew each other.

At 9:05, Pierre and Helen walked to the outhouse, did their business, and returned to the cabin. Five minutes later, I was sneaking toward the bedroom window. My mind was calm as I moved down the trail, and I felt no emotion for my wife, for she was a stranger to me now. Pierre was an ugly human who I would have ignored if I met him in my world. Now I wanted to hurt him, destroy his life, kill him like he was a bug under my boot.

Walking softly, I approached the side of the cabin and stood under the bedroom window, which was open, and I could hear Helen speaking hysterically.

"...believe he's dead. What have I done? What do I tell his boss? I have to report him missing because I can't know he's dead. It's your fault; you made him run away. I need to tell someone what...."

CRACK! "Awwooo!"

It sounded like a very hard slap, followed by Helen crying out. That bastard, even though I now hated her, I did love her before we visited Hell.

"Shut up, you stupid cow. You come up here for your honeymoon, and once you see a big fat cock, you forget your husband. So now we have ten more days before I leave and another three until you get picked up. I will fuck every hole you have, and if you mention my name when reporting husband missing, I will come back and cut your American whore throat. Now swallow my dick."

I backed away and went back to my cave.

I spent the next ten days hiking and enjoying the beauty of the forest and the wildlife that lived here. I was not an outdoorsman like Pierre, but I was developing an appreciation of nature. I observed several furry Forest dwellers up close, such as deer, rabbits, and a fox. I was also building up my endurance, and physically I have never felt more fit. I heard rifle shots on several days, and once I had to hide behind a tree when I saw him moving through the woods. It was strange, but I felt no fear of Pierre when I saw him tracking something for dinner. I was at peace with myself and my plans for the future.

When the day Pierre was to leave arrived, I hid behind my two trees at dawn and waited. The sun had been up a few hours when he left the cabin. I watched him stow his stuff in the kayak and drag it out to the side of the dock. Climbing in he began paddling down the stream for about fifty feet when he started cursing in French. The kayak was sinking, and he had to climb out and drag the boat back to the dock.

"Merde, connard américain, fils de pute. Va te faire foutre cochon yankee." (Google can Translate)

I'm pretty sure he wasn't telling God what a good man I was.

He patched over the holes pretty quickly then stalked into the cabin. I heard him yelling, and Helen ran out the door. Shit! If she came this way, I was busted. Lucky for me and not so fortunate for Helen, he caught her by the hair twenty feet away from the cabin. He slapped her once, twice, and then threw her down. He stomped over to the dock, put the kayak back in the water, and climbed in. Then with an angry stroke of the paddle, he was off heading up the river.

Helen lay in the dirt crying before getting up and stumbling back into the cabin. I want to say after being happily married to her for five years, I felt her pain and sympathized with her. But, alas, she now meant nothing to me.

I went back to my cave to think. I made a fire to warm up the cave and heated some canned soup to eat. After eating, I leaned against the cave wall to think.

I wanted revenge against Pierre and Helen. This whole honeymoon was a waste of time, and I wasn't even sure she hadn't met Pierre before this trip. By morning I had a rough outline of the shape my revenge would take. Included in my plans was the knowledge that Helen was almost certainly pregnant and that ugly troll, Pierre, was the father.

Early next morning, I set off for the cabin with two and a half days to torment the psyche of my whore wife. When I arrived at the cabin, the door was shut, and there was no smoke coming out the chimney.

As I walked through the doorway, I noticed the bedroom door was shut. Opening the door, I could see Helen was wrapped up in the spread and blanket on the bed, and the smell in the room was disgusting. I kicked the bed and growled, "Wake up, Helen, I'm home."

Opening her eyes, she screamed, got tangled up with the bedspread, and fell on the floor. She was nude, covered with dirt, and streaked with tears and Pierre's cum on her cheeks, hair, and tits. Looking on a shelf in the wardrobe, I grabbed a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo, and from the bottom drawer, a washcloth and towel.

"Go outside, get in the water, and scrub. You smell like shit. "When she didn't react, I yelled at her, "Now, bitch!"

As I stepped off the porch, she caught up with me as we walked toward the water. She found her voice tried to sound intelligent while she spoke.

"You're alive; how is that possible?"

"Shut up."

"But, I don't understand; I mean, I saw your blood on the rocks; your backpack strap was torn; how did this happen?"

"Not now. If you don't shut up, I'm going to shove my walking stick through your cunt and out your mouth and spit roast you for dinner."

She sucked in some air making a slight gasping noise but clamped her lips together and shut up. When we got to the water's edge, I handed her the washcloth and soap and told her, "Scrub yourself clean, head to toe."

She tiptoed to the age and got her washcloth wet when I exploded, "That's not how you bathe in the wilderness."

Picking her up, I carried her along the riverbank until the water was waist-deep, then I dropped her in. She went under, and when she stood up again, she tried crawling out of the frigid water. I pushed her back in and handed her the soap and washcloth she dropped on the ground.

"Scrub yourself with this, or I'll get branches of pine needles and scour you myself."

Helen was freezing, but she figured out I wasn't giving in and spent the subsequent half-hour scrubbing and rinsing and washing her hair before I helped her out and handed her the towel.

"At least now your outside body is clean again."

When we went back into the cabin, I started a fire in the stove and moved a chair next to it so she could dry off. Then I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms, glaring at the monster standing in front of me.

When she was dry, and her hair was piled up on her head wrapped up by the towel, I gave her my next command, "Dress yourself warmly, jeans, thick socks, thick sweater, and hiking boots. Anything else you want, put it in your suitcase and put the suitcase and your sleeping bag on the porch. Move it; I don't have all day to waste."

Watching her walk back into the bedroom, I felt an emptiness inside, an emptiness that should have contained our five years of marriage. Instead, it was like I had been in a coma for five years with no happy memories, just pain.

When she came out of the bedroom, dressed, and carrying her suitcase and sleeping bag, she didn't look at me. Instead, after leaving her stuff on the porch, she came in looking down at the floor and wringing her hands together.

"Watch me and don't speak." Going into the bedroom, I trashed it, breaking up the bed, throwing the dresser drawers around the room, then pulling the dresser away from the wall, slamming it on the floor. In the kitchen, I was able to pull the overhead cabinets off of the wall, dropping them and their contents on the floor. I went outside and grabbed the ax, and when I walked past Helen, she brought her hand up to cover her mouth and shook.

I went crazy, attacking the furniture, the table and benches, then chopping up the kitchen counter and the cabinets lying on the floor. Then, to complete my rage against the helpless furniture, I pulled the two bunk beds out of the small room and made quick work of them with the ax. I stopped to catch my breath before opening the stove door and knocking it off with the ax. Another swing of the ax separated the flue from the stove before I pushed over the old iron potbelly with my foot. The coals and a burning log scattered across the floor, which began burning slowly before catching on and becoming ablaze.

I walked out of the cabin for the last time, picked up Helen's suitcase, and walked toward the trail through the forest with the ax head facing out and resting on my shoulder. I sensed Helen was walking behind me, and I hoped she had picked up her sleeping bag. When I reached the jetty, I buried the ax head in one of the posts before continuing to my cave.

I wasn't walking very fast so Helen shouldn't fall behind. She hesitated before following me when I left the trail and walked on the winding path to the cave. When I squeezed into the cave, the lantern was on low, lighting up my temporary home. As Helen followed me in, she stopped at the entrance and looked around, absorbing the sights of my stone domain. I dropped her suitcase on some sand and told her, "Lay your sleeping bag on the sand, and you should get a good night's sleep. I'm going to get some air; it's a little stuffy in here now, so make yourself at home."

I returned after an hour, and Helen was sitting in her sleeping bag, with her head on her knees, weeping softly. I opened up two cans of fruit and asked, "Peaches or pineapples?"

She took the peaches, and I handed her a fork. After eating, she followed my lead and drank the juice left in the can.

"Follow me," and I walked out and headed back toward the cabin. Knowing she was walking right behind me, I didn't peek to confirm her presence. When I reached the dock, the fire was climbing above where the roof used to be. The log walls were burning inside and out and would continue burning for at least another day. So I stripped off my clothes and jumped in the water to relax. I rolled onto my back and floated, and I could see Helen staring at the roaring conflagration.

Finally, she turned away and sat on the dock, looking at me with a thousand-yard stare.

"I never knew; I mean, you never showed this side of you. So I looked down on you, and because you gave in to me, I thought you were soft and a wimp."

"I gave into you because I was in love with you. I did lie to you; I didn't have any sleeping pills, and if you hadn't betrayed me, I would've figured out a way to kill him and try my best to reconcile our marriage. But, that ship has sailed away and crashed on the reefs of life."

She had no answer for me, just tears sliding over her cheeks. I climbed out of the water and sat on the dock, and we watched the roof cave-in, and the walls collapsed inward, making the fire hotter and pushing the flames above where the cabin roof used to be. The fire slowly burned down, leaving the outhouse as the only structure still standing. I stood up and dressed before slowly walking up the trail. This time, she walked next to me, sneaking glances at my face, probably trying to figure out what I was thinking about as I stared ahead.

Fixing the last two cans of vegetable soup for supper, we washed it down with the last of the water from the canteens. I set them by the entrance to remind myself about filling them up tomorrow. Then, I stood outside and watched the sun go down, coloring the clouds red, which meant it would be a good night for sailors.

As darkness descended, I reentered the cave and could see Helen had already crawled into her sleeping bag. I stripped, turned the lantern off, and buried myself in my warm bag. She was talking to herself softly, and I couldn't pick up the words she was saying. It sounded like she was arguing with herself and was losing the argument.

The next thing I remember was waking up with a ray of sunshine lighting up the entrance. I could see Helen's head peeking out the top of her bag, so I called out, "Wake up, Helen. Our last full day in Hell awaits us."

She stirred as I pulled on my pants and looked at what was left of my food. I had tuna and crackers for lunch and a big can of beef stew for supper. For breakfast today and tomorrow, I had four cinnamon buns, one can of pears, a can of peaches, and two cans of pineapples. For a snack, I had a large bag of potato chips. The boat should be here by noon tomorrow.

Today, Helen and I existed in each other's presence, but we were no longer joined at the hip. It was almost awkward how we acted toward each other, but I had nothing I wanted to say to her, and she had nothing that I wanted to hear.

The following day, after we dressed and had eaten, I fastened Pierre's knife and sheath to my belt and told Helen, "Leave everything here. Other than the clothes on our back, I want to take nothing home with us." I picked up my winter jacket and carried it outside

As we walked down the trail toward the dock, I glanced at Helen and could see she was carrying her warm coat. When she saw me look at her, she spoke to me, "You're right, I know I'm pregnant, even if I haven't missed a period. Still, a woman knows when something is happening in her body. If I aborted his child, it wouldn't make any difference, would it?"