Patrick drove as fast as the law would allow him. The car raced down road, he glanced down at his beeper. The nurse looking after his wife said she was on the verge of death. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t make it.

“Come on damn you!”

He cursed as he pressed down harder on the accelerator trying to push the car’s speed to the brink of breaking the speed limit.

Luckily traffic seemed sparse today, and the usual hour long journey took him only 35 minutes. He slammed the breaks bringing the car to a sudden halt outside his home. He leapt out the vehicle and quickly headed for his front door.

Patrick paused for a moment confused as he saw his wife’s familiar blonde locks walk past the front window. Thank god the nurse must have made a mistake. Pat’s thoughts were happy ones as he slotted his keys into the door and turned it. The door opened and he entered his home.

“Honey is everything okay?”

She didn’t reply so he walked into the front room. Patrick smiled as he spotted Michelle standing at the other end of the room her back towards him. She was wearing jeans and a plain blue t-shirt. Pat let his eyes fall to her pert bottom; he stepped forward with the intent to smack it.

However he tripped over something, Patrick managed to keep his balance so he didn’t fall down. He glanced to what he’d nearly fallen over.

“Oh my god…”

Patrick gasped, seeing someone lying on the floor. He quickly recognised it as Theresa the nurse. Her uniform was stained with what looked like fresh blood. The crimson fluid seemed to seep from a wound on her stomach.

“Michelle?”

His wife turned round, but instead of her smiling beautiful face. He saw a pale, blank and emotionless face. Misty eyes viewed him with a strange longing. Blood dripped from her lips onto her blue t-shirt. Patrick backed off slowly, as Michelle staggered towards him arms outstretched.

“What is going on?” he cried,

“Ruhr,” came her reply.

Michelle didn’t go after him though, Patrick watched in disgust and horror as his wife knelt by the woman who had been looking after her, before plunging her hands into Theresa’s abdomen hungrily pulling out her intestines bringing them into her mouth. Patrick was sick as he witnessed his wife, chewing on the nurse’s guts.

Patrick ran into his study, and fumbled with his key-ring locating the small key that opened his draw. Snatching up the pistol, he checked it; the small gun was a .22 derringer, a small but powerful revolver, it only held two shots but that was all he’d need.

A grim determination set in his face, Patrick returned to his front room. His wife was still eating the nurse; she’d finished the intestine and now had a kidney in her hands.

“Michelle…I’m sorry.”

Patrick took aim and pulled the trigger. The .22 calibre round caught her just below her neck. She was knocked back. He started to cry, it was a fatal shot…he’d killed his wife. To his surprise she started to get up, the blood oozed slowly out of the bullet hole.