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She Died in Chains , Now He's Crawling Back Novel Cover

She Died in Chains , Now He's Crawling Back

Betrayed by her fiancé, Leigh Simmons, she was trapped in the desolate Bleakridge mountains, enduring three years of systematic torment. As she lies dying during a brutal labor, she discovers the horrifying truth: her suffering was a twisted "survival game" Leigh paid the village to orchestrate for his sworn sister's amusement. But as her life slips away, a mysterious system voice awakens in her mind, offering her a way out. Her mission is complete, and she can finally abandon this world.
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Chapter 4

"The day Chief Hargrove got the money, he messaged me asking how I wanted you handled."

She straightened up and smoothed out her skirt.

"I told them they could do whatever they wanted. Just keep you breathing."

Ivy stared at the blood soaking through my abdomen.

"All those hundreds of days and nights. Must've been quite the experience, hm?"

The sound of leather shoes striking marble echoed from the far end of the corridor.

Leigh appeared around the corner.

Ivy threw herself backward instantly, slamming hard onto the marble floor.

She clutched her ankle with both hands, tears rolling down her cheeks in fat, heavy drops.

"Please, I know you hate me, but why did you have to push me..."

Leigh's expression darkened. He closed the distance in three long strides.

He didn't spare me a single glance. His right foot drove straight into my body.

The polished tip of his shoe connected with the wound on my abdomen with surgical precision.

The makeshift bandages burst apart on impact. Blood and shredded tissue sprayed across the wall.

I lay on my back, eyes wide open, unable to breathe.

Ivy leaned against the wall, panting, her face drained of color.

"Leigh, I got so scared, my anemia's acting up. I'm so dizzy..."

Leigh turned his head immediately, his gaze locking onto me like a blade.

"If you had the strength to push her, then you can use your blood to make it up to her."

He pulled out a two-way radio and called for his private physician outside.

Seconds later, the doctor came running down the corridor with a medical kit.

Leigh pointed at my arm.

"Draw her blood."

The doctor crouched down and took my left hand.

He cinched a tourniquet around my upper arm and pulled a glass collection tube fitted with a thick, long needle from the case.

Inside my head, the system's alarm blared again, the intervals shrinking to almost nothing.

Seventy-two-hour countdown interrupted by lethal external force. Program accelerating termination.

Somatic vitality severed. Pain suppression protocol disengaged.

Soul extraction successful. Wishing the host a pleasant journey in the new world.

The needle plunged into the collapsed vein.

The extraction pump whirred to life, emitting a thin mechanical hum.

Leigh stood nearby, glancing at the watch on his wrist, his expression one of pure impatience.

"Faster. She's not going to die."

His cold eyes settled on me.

"She starved off every ounce of fat under her skin just to fake being sick. That kind of cheap trick only fools clueless servants like you."

I stared up at the corridor ceiling, at the chandelier overhead.

The light was dimming in my vision, bleeding away at the edges.

I didn't even have the strength to twitch the corner of my mouth.

My eyes lost focus.

My head followed gravity, lolling softly to the right until it rested against my shoulder.

Leigh's brow furrowed tight. His voice cracked through the corridor like a whip.

"Stop playing dead. Look at me!"

The words had barely left his mouth.

CRASH.

A piercing shatter rang through the hallway.

The doctor let out a scream, his hands flying open.

The glass collection tube hit the marble floor and exploded into fragments.

Dark red liquid splattered in every direction.

Leigh stormed forward.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

The doctor didn't answer him.

His eyes were blown wide with horror. He scrambled backward until his spine hit the wall.

His hands shook violently in the air, one finger pointed at the gaping hole torn open in my abdomen.

Foul-smelling black blood was pouring out in a steady, unending stream.

The doctor's voice came out so shrill it barely sounded human.

"Mr. Simmons, the tube... everything that came out was septic fluid from massive organ failure!"

He clutched his head with both hands.

He pointed at the rotting flesh.

"And there's no healed muscle tissue in her abdomen. There's a necrotic fetal corpse inside!"

The air in the corridor solidified.

Everyone froze in place.

The doctor's trembling voice continued to echo.

"Mr. Simmons, this body was already falling apart days ago. She's dead. Completely dead!"

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