Ask her how long this has been going on.
“Since the summer,” she says. “You were at your mother’s. I hiked up the canyon and found a cabin full of teens. Spent three days picking them off one by one, different weapons, different lures, different screams. And it was all for me. And it was exhilarating.”
Tell her you and she always killed together. That’s the way it’s been and you don’t see why she needs to murder without you.
“You killed that hitchhiker when you were coming back from your high school reunion,” she says.
Tell her that’s different. You were out of state and you didn’t go chasing him down. Tell her if a meat piece falls into her lap like that she’s welcome to slice it up like it deserves to be sliced, but to go chasing the meat on her own, that’s a betrayal.
“Killing with you is wonderful,” she says. “But so is killing on my own. I feel like I’ve lost my individuality, like I’ve stopped killing for myself and I only kill for us.”
Ask her if that’s so bad.
“I just don’t see why I can’t have both,” she says. “My kills. And our kills. I think we should keep our murdering open.”
Tell her you don’t want to kill without her.
“You don’t have to,” she says. “But you have to let me have something to myself. I want to remember what it’s like to kill just for me again.”
Don’t tell her the truth. Don’t tell her you’re worried that if she goes it alone often enough, she’ll never want to murder a teen with you again. Just tell her you’ll try to be understanding of her journey back to herself, and hope for the best. If you’re going to lose her, you already have.
Happy Your Wife’s Been Murdering Teens Without You Day!
