Diary Of Jane

I devoted my entire life to this woman. I spent every waking moment of my life to make this woman happy. She was the reason I awoke each morning and the one I had wrapped around in my arms at night. Every move I made I had her face in the back of my mind. I wanted nothing more than her love towards me and I would do anything to please her. Those big scarlet eyes of hers would stare at me in the middle of the night until I fell asleep or glance at me when in my study. Her long brown locks flowed in the wind on a crisp autumn day or brush my cheeks as she look down at me. I had nothing else to live for besides her. I had no family, no prior children and I was reaching my older years with each passing minute. I wanted to make an impact on one person's life before I died and she was it. My lover, my best friend, my everything, and her name was Jane.
I met my Jane about eight years ago. I was at a gala that the town held every year to celebrate the anniversary of the founding of it. I was there, a bit drunk as usual and I was watching the people dance and be marry from a chair in the corner. I decided to go outside to smoke my pipe for a bit. So, I took my brandy with me into the winter surroundings. The snow was crisp and still drizzling from the sky. The stars were hidden with clouds and the icicles reflected light coming off from the street lamps. I lit my cigar and took a few puffs and stopped to take a sip of my drink. As I was doing so, I heard a maddening shriek. I quickly sobered up thinking in my head, where did this cry come from? I waited to see if I would hear it again and I did. It was coming from the mansion on the hill about 200 feet from where I was. I dashed up the hill to see what all the yelling was about, hoping this woman wasn't in trouble. I threw the door open to the mansion and heard crying. I followed the echo and entered the den of the mansion. And there stand a maiden, covered in blood with a knife in her hand. Her dress was pulling off her shoulders and a dead man lay at her feet. She ran over to me, dropping the knife and began to cry in my arms. It took me a few minutes to calm her down and made her a cup of tea. I had sent the butler to get the police. She told me that the man barged in demanding sexual favors but she refused. She had to defend herself right? The butler was elderly and was of no help to her so she was on her own against this six foot tall man standing in her house. She looked up at me with those eyes for the first time, and I knew right then and there, that I was in love with her.
We began to see each other for quite some time and spent a lot of our time together. About six months into knowing this woman, I moved into her mansion with her. About two years after that, we married. We were happy. We only needed each other's company for pleasure. We would spend our days apart but our evenings were ours. I would work my job at the local law firm and she would spend money on shoes, jewelry, perfume, anything to make her more beautiful than she already was. I would come home in the evening and she would be cooking dinner and I would finish filing a few papers in my home office. We would have beef almost every night for dinner. Sometimes we would have roast beef, prime rib, steaks of all cuts, soups, stews, anything imaginable made with meat. She was a bit of a carnivore and rarely ate anything but meat. Of course this was not a problem for me since I myself loved meat. In our town, meat is expensive and the fact that we could have it for dinner every night showed me that she had a lot of money. Her father left her a large inheritance in his death, hence the house and the extravagant everything about her. Every night, we would sit in bed with a fire going in the fire place. I would read fiction and have a glass of brandy while she drank her vintage homemade wine and wrote her diary. She wrote in this diary every single night and spent about an hour doing so. She wouldn't fall asleep until she had written in it. She never allowed me to read it nor did she ever tell me what was inside. After that, we would lie in bed together and watch the fire until we fell asleep or we would enjoy intimacy for hours with nothing but the crackle of the fire to disturb us. Our lives were perfect. Nothing could make them any better, but one thing could make them much worse.
I had noticed that my wife had run out of wine the night before because of the empty bottle in the kitchen. She was out for the day shopping and I was off of work that day. I headed to the wind cellar to get her another bottle of her homemade wine. I went to the case where she keeps it, but there was a lock on it. Why would she lock this particular case of wine? No matter, my search for a key began. I looked all through the cellar, kitchen, house, I even asked the butler but nothing turned up. Then I remembered. She keeps her diary in a lock box and she keeps the keys for the box in the hole. Maybe the spare key on that ring opened the cellar to the wine. I went and got the keys and headed back downstairs. And sure enough, the key fit and the lock fell to my knees. I looked for the oldest bottle and found it resting on the bottom shelf. I took the wine, locked the case and headed upstairs. As I was placing it in the kitchen, I decided to pour myself a glass and do some paperwork. I took my glass to my study and began to shuffle through folders and books. I reached for the glass, took a sip and I thought that I was going to vomit. The taste was so terrible and I have had terrible wine, but this was by far the worst I have ever had. I spit it out on the floor and began to gag. I looked at the glass of wine with my tongue hanging out of my mouth. As I was inspecting the wine, I noticed something. This wine was unusually thick. It was the consistency of very thick stew. I stuck my nose in the glass and took a deep inhale. This smell, it's so familiar. I took some of the wine on my fingers and began to massage it and pulled my fingers apart. I had figured out the substance and I dropped the glass on my desk and threw up on the floor. My heart began to pound faster and faster. I began to sweat and breathe heavily. I had to calm down. This had to be a bad bottle of wine. There was no way this bottle of wine contained blood. My mind was not working too well and I wanted to make sure that what was happening really was happening. I ran upstairs to our bedroom and took out her diary. This must have the answers I seek. There is no other explanation. I sat on the bed and began to read. And read. And read. Until I was finished with the whole book. My name was mentioned only once and there were the names of many other men in there before me. My name was entered in the entry from last night. Her diary read: "This man looks divine. He treats me like a princess. He is sweet, his heart is tender, and his eyes are big pools of indulgent. I hope all of this is true when I feast on him tomorrow's evening." We were eating meat every night. She never mentioned where she had gotten the meat. Then, it all clicked at once. That man from the night I met her. She wasn't defending herself: she was feeding herself.
I began to pack a bag of my belongings and threw on my shoes. I had to get out of here. I needed to tell someone. I had taken the diary with me as evidence. I was walking towards the door as calmly as I could. I went to reach for the front door when I heard the butler call out to me.
  "Sir, where may I ask are you going in such a hurry?" I thought of an excuse quickly.
  "My brother is ill and I must attend to his children as his wife takes care of him."  He slowly walked over to me with his hands folded behind his back. My hands were clammy. I knew exactly what was going to happen.
  "Your brother? Your brother passed away two years ago, did he not?" I stared at him with a blank stare. I dropped my suitcase and fell to my knees.
  "If I go down to the cellar with you, will it make her happy?"
  "Yes, it will sir. She is all ready for you and she is awaiting you as we speak." I walked to the cellar and I could not believe what was going on. Once we were in the cellar, the butler opened the hidden door we have at the back of the cellar. And there she was, my angel. She was covered in medical scrubs and had her hair pinned up. There was a big wooden table with many cuts in it. There were meat hooks hanging from the ceiling and it was colder than the cellar. There was fresh meat dangling from the hooks and blood was dripping off of them onto the floor. She looked at me with saddened eyes.
"Will this make you happy my dear? I want nothing more than to make you happy." She kissed me on my cheek and looked at me as she smiled with those big crimson eyes. She helped undress me until I was standing in this cold room in nothing buy my flesh. I laid down on the table and grabbed her hand. She looked at me, smiled and grabbed the butchers knife.
"I hope you taste delicious as I pictured in my diary."