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墨書 Inktalez
It had already been three days, and Wang Qiang had been starving in the room for a full three days. He no longer had the strength to struggle. I pulled the socks out of his mouth. His gaze was vacant as he stammered, "Water, please give me something to eat. I'm going to starve to death."
I fed him a few sips of well water from the cup in my hand, watching as he regained some composure. "I really can't take it anymore; you have to let me go," Wang Qiang pleaded, having regained a bit of strength. "This could end in tragedy."
I ignored him and took out a syringe filled with veterinary medication from my bag. "What are you planning to do?" His face was filled with terror; after three days without food or water, he had no strength left to resist.
I quietly inserted the needle into the webbing of his hand and pushed the liquid into his veins. The first injection, the second, the third... his body began to convulse. After the fourth injection, he cried out, "For the sake of our twenty years of marriage, please let me go! I'm begging you; I don't want to die."
Hearing this, I clenched my fist until it turned white and struck him hard across the face. Slap! Slap! One blow after another until I was breathless from exertion. "What right do you have to talk about our marriage?"
"I want you dead," I said through gritted teeth as I prepared for the fifth injection. "No... please don't..." He could only futilely twist in his restraints.
I ignored his pleas and continued with the fifth and sixth injections. All these years, had he ever stopped when I begged? After the sixth injection, his face turned pale, cold sweat pouring down as a fear I had never seen before filled his eyes.
"Let... let me go..."
He cried, tears and snot streaming down his cheeks. "I can't do it anymore... I really can't..."
For the first time in twenty years, I saw this man cry.
"It's too late," I said coldly.
He began to convulse violently, frothing at the mouth, his eyes rolling back as he emitted painful groans.
The scene was chilling.
Ten minutes later, he stopped struggling, his body slowly becoming rigid.
He was dead. Really dead.
I didn’t call the police or run away immediately; instead, I sat quietly beside his corpse for six whole hours.
During that time, I thought about a lot of things. I remembered what he looked like when I first met him, recalled the love he occasionally showed to our children when he was sober, and thought of the few moments when he had been somewhat gentle with me.
But those memories were drowned out by twenty years of fear, pain, and despair.
At ten o'clock at night, I picked up the phone and dialed my son’s number.
"Mom?" My son’s voice came through the line; he was in high school in the county and only came home on weekends.
"Son, come back. Pick up your sister and come with me to turn myself in." My voice was eerily calm. "I killed your father."
In the early morning hours, my son and daughter returned home to find me and Wang Qiang's corpse.
I thought they would be scared, cry, or blame me.
But to my surprise, they simply walked quietly to my side. My daughter gently hugged me. "Mom, it's okay now; everything is over."
My son stood beside us, tears in his eyes but an unusual determination on his face. "Mom, we’ll go with you to turn yourself in. No matter what happens, my sister and I will stand by you."
Their reaction left me speechless; tears slid silently down my cheeks.
All these years, I had worried that my children would hate me or blame me, yet they understood my pain better than anyone else.
Before dawn broke, we went to the police station.
The officer on duty saw my battered face and my children by my side and momentarily didn’t know how to react.
"I... I killed my husband."
The police officer paused for a moment, then picked up the phone to notify his superior.
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