Chapter 3: The Taste of Copper and Fear
Chapter 3: The Taste of Copper and Fear
Six o'clock arrived with the terrifying punctuality of an executioner. The electronic lock on the front door chimed, and heavy footsteps echoed in the foyer.
Elena was in the kitchen, carefully plating a prime ribeye steak. She had spent the last hour obsessively watching the meat thermometer, terrified of overcooking it by even a single degree. The house smelled of seared garlic, rosemary, and tension.
"I'm home," David's voice rang out, chillingly cheerful.
Elena wiped her hands on an apron and stepped out of the kitchen. David was standing in the living room, loosening his tie. Sarah was sitting on the sofa, holding Leo, forcing a stiff, terrified smile onto her face.
"Welcome home, David," Sarah said, her voice shaking only slightly. "How was work?"
"Productive," David said, walking over and leaning down to inspect his son. He didn't kiss Sarah. He didn't ask how she was feeling. He simply stared at the baby as if inspecting a piece of property. "He's quiet. Did you drug him?"
Sarah flinched. "No! No, of course not. He just had a big bottle. He's very sleepy."
David hummed noncommittally. He turned his gaze to Elena. "Is dinner ready? I'm starving."
"Yes, David. It's on the table," Elena said smoothly.
They moved to the dining room. The table was large enough to seat twelve, but only three settings were placed at one end. David took the head of the table. Sarah sat to his right, Elena to his left. Leo was in a bassinet next to Sarah's chair.
David picked up his steak knife and fork. He cut into the center of the meat. Elena held her breath. The meat was perfectly pink in the center. Medium rare.
David chewed slowly. He swallowed. He looked at Elena.
"It's acceptable," he said flatly.
Elena let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. "Thank you."
"However," David continued, setting his fork down with a sharp clink against the china, "the potatoes are cold."
Elena’s heart skipped a beat. "I... I'm sorry, David. I can heat them up in the microwave for you."
"No," David said, his voice dropping in volume, a dangerous sign. "I don't eat microwaved food, Elena. I work hard all day to provide for this family. I expect a hot meal. Is that too much to ask, Sarah?"
He turned his piercing gaze to his wife. Sarah froze, her fork halfway to her mouth.
"No, David," Sarah whispered. "It's not too much to ask. Elena just made a mistake. She's not used to our kitchen."
"Mistakes have consequences, Sarah. You know that. We talked about this this morning, didn't we? When you were too slow with my coffee." David smiled, a cruel, twisting motion of his lips. He reached across the table and placed his large hand over Sarah’s bruised wrist, squeezing hard.
Sarah gasped in pain, her eyes watering, but she didn't pull away. She knew better.
"David, please," Elena intervened, forcing herself to sound submissive. "It's my fault. Punish me. Let me make you a fresh batch. It will only take twenty minutes."
David kept his eyes on Sarah, squeezing her wrist tighter until her knuckles turned white. "You see, Sarah? Your sister is willing to take accountability. Why can't you? Why do you always force me to correct your behavior?"
"I'm sorry," Sarah cried, a tear spilling over her cheek. "I'm sorry, David."
Suddenly, Leo woke up. Sensing the tension in the room, the baby let out a high-pitched, wailing cry from the bassinet.
David closed his eyes and sighed heavily, releasing Sarah's wrist. He stood up slowly, picking up his steak knife.
Elena felt a surge of absolute panic. She stood up too, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.
"Sit down, Elena," David ordered, not looking at her. He walked slowly around the table toward the bassinet. He stood over his crying son, still holding the serrated knife in his right hand.
Sarah let out a muffled sob, clapping both hands over her mouth to keep from screaming.
"He's very loud," David observed coldly, tilting his head as he looked down at the infant. "I have a headache, Sarah. I need quiet."
"I'll take him upstairs," Sarah scrambled to stand up, ignoring the agonizing pain in her stomach. "I'll feed him again. He'll be quiet, I promise!"
David raised his hand, pointing the tip of the steak knife directly at Sarah's chest. "Sit. Down."
Sarah collapsed back into her chair, paralyzed with fear.
David looked back down at the baby. He slowly lowered the knife toward the bassinet.
"David, stop!" Elena shouted, abandoning the act. She stepped forward, her fists clenched. "What are you doing?!"
David stopped. He turned his head slowly to look at Elena, a terrifying grin spreading across his face. He flipped the knife around and used the smooth, wooden handle to gently poke the baby's blanket, tucking it in.
"I'm just tucking him in, Elena," David laughed, a dark, mocking sound that echoed in the dining room. "What did you think I was going to do? Harm my own son?"
He walked back to his seat and tossed the knife onto his plate.
"You women are so hysterical," David sneered, picking up his wine glass. "Sarah, take the boy upstairs. His crying is ruining my appetite. Elena, you sit here and watch me eat. And if you speak without being spoken to again, you'll find out exactly how I handle disrespect in my house."
Sarah practically dove for the bassinet, scooping up Leo and scurrying out of the dining room as fast as her injured body would allow.
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Elena slowly sat back down. She tasted copper in her mouth and realized she had bitten the inside of her cheek so hard it was bleeding. She sat there in utter silence, watching the monster across the table casually chew his steak, knowing with absolute certainty that one of them was going to die before the week was over.
And she swore to God, it wasn't going to be her or her sister.
