[ WP ] Your significant other is literally a demon . When they 're cross with you , they can make your life a living hell . Literally .

You know, all in all, I should have seen the signs. 
 
 She never wanted to go anywhere with me during daytime and never seemed overly fond of salting her food. I always chalked the first one up to her working a graveyard shift at the hospital and the second to her being a nurse who knows that salt is the, quote, `` white death of the food pyramid''. 
 
 She had always had a temper, but that was kind of what I liked about her at the time; I confused it with passion you see. Plus, the sex, my god the fucking sex. I've never seen a woman so depraved and lustful. For me, she was the definition of a lady in the streets and a slut in the sheets. 
 
 It was n't all fun and games however. When she was upset with me, she would be the most difficult person to deal with; screaming, throwing things around the house and I swear to God, I once saw literal fire in her eyes. The make-up sex was the worst part of it. I mean, I've been kind of a masochist all my life and liked incorporating some BDSM into my sex life, but she would go overboard with it. It was n't uncommon that I would have to go to the hospital after a rough night of make-up sex with brands made with soldering iron on my chest and deep wounds inflicted by sharp nails on my back. 
 
 It got worse as time went on, you know, as most abusive relationships do. She started getting angry more easily, started assaulting me outside of our sex games and stopped comforting me after the rough stuff like she used to. It did n't help when she came under investigation at the hospital for some weird medical hiccups that had happened lately. She started keeping a packed bag in the closet and fidgeting nervously all the time. The abuse turned from her being mad at me for something to her shackling me to the frame of our bed. I was force fed Viagra to keep my member up. 
 
 It was 3 days of agony. I lost my left leg from the hip and my 3 fingers to gangrene from the tightness of the binds. On the third day, there was a knock on the door. She stuffed my mouth with coal, as she always did and taped it shut. I was so tired and spent, I could n't even focus on what she said to me. All I remember is hearing a gunshot from downstairs and a few moments later an older gentleman, dressed in a fine suit and brandishing what I later found out to be a fake FBI badge, came to untie me and explain the situation to me. 
 
 I was never much of a church-going kind of fella, but to put it bluntly, finding out that you were dating a literal spawn of Satan tends to put things into perspective.
