New Prologue

Blood dripped off her fingers and splattered on the floor in a small pool. He smiled as the pool grew bigger.
Her throat gurgled and her eyes bore into him. He could read them, of course. He knew they wanted help, but he wasn’t going to give any.
She coughed and blood sprayed out of her neck. It would eventually kill her but it would take a while, the cut wasn’t deep enough to kill her instantly. He was here to wait.
“Soon, my love, you will be my wife.” He smiled at her but she did not smile back. Instead she coughed again until she seized and couldn’t breathe. The trickle of blood on her arm ran faster to the floor until she laid her head on the pillow and slowed her breathing. He watched from his perch at the end of the bed as her eyes searched the ceiling.
Whether she was looking towards heaven or for help he could not tell. He licked his lips and tingled with anticipation. It was almost here. Almost the end. This was his favorite part, watching them go. Watching them realize that there was no escape, there was no help. Sometimes they accepted it and went willingly. Other times they fought till the end. Those were his favorite.
But he couldn’t really have a favorite.
They were all his wives. All a part of him.
His hands shook. His fingers touched the wax paper. He wished it didn’t have to be this way. Wished he didn’t need the paper in between them but he couldn’t take any chances.
Some people wanted attention, they wanted to be caught. But not him. He loved these women. Loved seeing their beauty as they died. Loved having this last moment with them. A moment no one else could have. Without this where would he be?
No, there would be no evidence at all. No evidence of their union or of the final kiss. He fingered the wax paper again. He smiled. That would be his alone.
Finally she was still; her coughing and spurted stopped. Her chest still heaved slowly in and out. He stood from his chair, still fingering the wax paper. He walked beside her and looked down at her. Her eyes grew wide as she once again struggled for breath but this time she would find none.
He placed the wax paper over her nose and her mouth. He grabbed both wrists with one hand while holding the paper in place in the other. She made little attempts to struggle. He leaned in and kissed her. With his hand over her nose and his mouth over her mouth she would be unable to breath. Death would come quickly and he would taste it. He would breath in her last and she would be his forever.
She was weak. Her body thrashed only briefly and then lay still. Her chest no longer moved. Her eyes were now glassy and had nothing to search for. He stared at her for a long time. This moment was bittersweet. The end had come but it had been over too quickly. He fingered the wax paper again. This time it was red from her lipstick.
It was time to go.
He didn’t want to leave her but he knew she couldn’t come with him. He didn’t want the cumbersome task of disposing of her body. There was too much evidence that could be transferred, too many clues to leave behind. No, this way was better. They could find her and know that they would no longer have her. That was more enjoyable for him. If they were to have to search for her, they would have hope. He didn’t want them to have hope.
She was his wife now.