Hell Hath No FuryMature

Penny has just moved into her boyfriend Tony's house, with high expectations; a proposal, a dream wedding, and a perfect marriage and family.
What she isn't expecting is Gina, an extra, paranormal tenant - and hell hath no fury like a dead wife scorned.

Penny laughed as Tony led her up the driveway in the dark. They were both more than a little bit drunk, but they deserved to have a good time tonight. Celebration! Staring goofily at the glistening rock on her middle finger, Penny would have screamed it from the rooftops if she'd had a ladder. I love Tony Baker and as of tonight the sexy bastard wants to marry me! Suck on that, bitches!

"Home sweet home, Penn!" slurred Tony as he stumbled over the threshold. Penny followed suit in a similar fashion. Suddenly all she knew was Tony's body pressed against hers, hot and tense, his lips movign ferociously around her mouth. She couldn't even recall which of them closed the front door.

Nor did she ever recall the journey from the front hall to Tony's double bed - or did she mean their double bed? - on the first floor of the house. All she remembered was what they did when they got there, and even that was lost in a deep, pleasurable haze.


Penny reached half-consciously across the bed, searching for Tony, but only finding empty sheets. She rolled grumpily onto her back, yawning loudly and clutching her aching head. She felt something cold press against her scalp, and lowered her hand to take a look at her spanking new engagement ring.

"That is a shit load of awesome right there," she whispered to herself, mesmerized by the glittering white diamond.

"Penny!" she heard Tony call from downstairs. "Come on down, hon, I've made breakfast."

Ah. This was the life.

Penny hopped out of bed eagerly, but the smile fell from her face as a shot of pain crept across the sole of her right foot. She fell back onto the bed on her ass, and pulled her foot up as close to her face as she could. A perfect red line was cut from her heel to her middle toe. Strange. Must have happened when I was drunk, she thought, her head pounding to remind her. She touched the cut, but the blood was dry.

Penny slipped on her duck slippers, and headed downstairs to her future husband.


Fucking bitch.

As she thought the words, Gina drew them. Painted them in massive letter across the wood. Wrote them in glistening blood. Liquid so clean, yet so tainted.

Gina wiped the last of Penny's blood from her hands as her beady eyes darted across her work. A thin smile crossed her lips.

"Fucking bitch indeed," she hissed.

The End

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