The Man Who Knew Too Much

He looked too far, learnt more than he should have, but who could blame him. It's a truly peculiar sensation, feeling such pure and beautiful love, tainted by burning contempt. "Ignorance is bliss", a phrase that is all too familiar to him, brings him to tears at its mere mention. She uttered it to him herself, an action that boiled his blood, bringing a bright flush upon his face that he knew anyone would mistake for embarrassment. Unfortunately, he was far from ignorant, he knew more than she thought he did. However, he couldn't bring himself to tell her, as he was - and remains to this day - a dastardly bastard. She confessed her love for him most suddenly, confusing the man, as unbeknownst to her he knew more than he was letting on. He knew about the creature that had won her heart just a fortnight ago, he knew about their talk of physical activity, how they frolicked in fields and kissed each other all over. Yet every time he spoke to her, he fell deeper and deeper into a state of curiosity, he wanted more than anything to explore further, despite knowing it would bring nothing but pain.

  So on a particularly shitty day, he rose from his bed, punched a hole through his bedside table and stormed out of the house. He broke into a blue Nissan Murano that was parked particularly stupidly along the far side of the road, and drove to the airport. After arriving in the country of her establishment, he took a deep intake of air to adjust himself to his new location. A smile crept upon his face as his plan worked its way through his mind. He wanted to harm him so badly, not taking into account the fact that doing so could seriously effect her. So he hailed a cab and gave the driver her address, cringing slightly as he mentioned the road name. Upon arrival he left the taxi without paying, the driver shouted out to him, but he was focused on the grand house that greeted him, so he took out 20 dollars and threw it over his shoulder. He walked slowly up to the gate, his face totally blank, but in his head he believed to have an expression twisted into a look of ugly rage. He scaled the gate, not bothering to ring. He knocked slowly on the door, closing his eyes as he did so.

  "They're probably fucking right now" he muttered under his breath, although she had assured him that they hadn't gone that far before. The door opened and her younger brother stood there, looking up at him. He swiftly brushed him aside and moved into the kitchen. From there he picked up a carving knife that took his interest. The brother ran in once again, shouting at him. So he gently placed his fingers against the boy's neck and grasped him until he was unconscious - he had no quarrel with the lad. No one had heard the shouts so he presumed they were alone. He thought that she probably couldn't hear him over the sounds of moaning and flesh slapping against flesh. It disgusted him. So he ascended the marble staircase that led to a second floor. Her door was marked with her name. He paused to look at it. It was a pretty name, so pretty. He shed a few tears, and then kicked open the door.

 "You?" she cried out, "what are you doing here?". Sure enough he found the two of them in an embrace. 

 "You said you wanted me, you lying bitch", the words came out in a broken manner, several cracks in his voice. 

 "I do.." she replied, her eyes leaking rather rapidly out of worry.

 "But you want him too", he shouted.

 "What? Well, of course I do. I mean, I want both of you", she seemed bewildered.

 "Well no, I can't have it that way", this time his voice was steady. So he took the knife from his belt, grabbed the dog by the head and slit his throat, he let out a whimpering sound and fell limply to the floor.

 "What the fuck did you do?" the words came out with a raspy tone. She dropped to her knees beside the bed and threw herself upon the poor mutt. The man simply bent down and kissed her on the cheek, she was in too much shock to resist. Then he left the room, free of his problem, and made his way back home.