Domestic

The lady was a goddess in her looks and demeanor. Very beautiful in every way. From the way she swayed her hips to her seductive smile to fluttering her eyelids. It was what wasn’t said that got men’s attention but the hidden and unseen, images placed in their minds eye. Only one man was lucky to own her heart. For a long time they were happy. Then he fucked it up big time. They had a domestic, he beat her to an inch of her life. Bruising her goddess looks beyond recognition, making blood flow like a river, snapping her precious bones like twigs, leaving her to die. Only she didn’t die. For she really was a Goddess. Her wounds healed and she went after her violent boyfriend. She caught him in the pub with another woman. A punch in the face broke the other girl’s nose and permanently ruined her looks. The girl fled. The Goddess ordered her boyfriend to the car park. It’s over she told him. He looked dumbly at her. Then smiled. She was ready for his right hook, blocking it in a swift move. Following through, she twisted his arm and broke it. Like he broke her arm before. His scream was hideous. Dropping him to the floor, the Goddess methodically went round his body. His good arm was next and then his legs. All broke quickly and without effort. Her small frame belied great strength. Standing over him she looked down at him. He whispered one word: why? The Goddess smiled. And replied, revenge my dear. There’s one last thing I must do. It will hurt. From out of her outstretched left hand, an orange line of fire whooshed forth and devoured his corpse. He uttered the most gut wrenching scream of his life. And was silent. Angry flames shriveled his corpse and turned it to ash. A crowd had gathered, standing well back. Frightened. Let this be a lesson to all of you angry young men, shouted the Goddess. Then she was gone.