My Husband Never Dies

I killed my husband. It was the third time. I dumped his body in pieces deep in the woods and returned to the mansion, filthy with blood, sweat, and dirt… “Eve, you’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” A familiar voice rang in her ears, and a snakelike arm wrapped around her slender waist. A strong arm, a red line of flesh below the elbow. It was exactly where she had cut herself. Her husband had returned. For the third time.