When Doomsday Hit, I Sent My Scumbag Husband to Death

On the first day of my New Year's holiday, my newlywed husband, Adrian Brooks, insisted on bringing his parents and younger sister to our new apartment for the holiday.

He explained that the house in his hometown was in poor condition and had no heat, so they had to stay at our place.

That very night, my in-laws threw my three-year-old cat, Minnie, out the front door, saying they were allergic to cat hair.

Not long after, my sister-in-law, Tiffany, smashed all my makeup and took over the master bedroom as if it belonged to her.

I swallowed my anger and told myself I would send them all away after the New Year.

But who could have known? I never got the chance.

The very next day, the extreme-cold apocalypse arrived, swift and merciless. Not only did they eat my cat, but they shoved me outside and left me to freeze to death.

Later, when my parents in our rural hometown could not reach me, they came looking for me. My husband's family robbed them of their food supplies and threw them out into the snow as well. When my parents finally froze to death, I heard my husband's family cheering inside the house.

"Great! The useless bitch that can't lay eggs, and her parents are all dead. Now, this apartment and everything her family owns are ours!"

And just like that, the truth became painfully clear. They had planned all along to wipe out my entire family and take everything for themselves.

Yet when I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Adrian first suggested bringing his parents to stay in our new home.

This time, when he mentioned it, I smiled and nodded. "Sure."

Because now, I have a plan.

This time, I would go live with my parents in the countryside, warming ourselves by the stove and grilling meat over a fire.

And from a distance, I would watch as his entire family would eventually die.

——

As I was thinking this, a news alert popped up on my phone.

"Today's lowest temperature is minus eight degrees. In the coming days, frost storms and blizzards are expected. Please take precautions and avoid unnecessary outings."

A shiver crawled up my spine.

Instinctively, I rushed into the bedroom and layered several winter coats over myself until my freezing hands and feet finally felt the slightest bit of warmth.

"Denise, what's wrong?" Adrian asked as he followed me in from the living room.

Seeing how bundled up I was, he reached out to touch my forehead.

"Did you catch a cold? Are you running a fever?"

The moment his face came into view, nausea surged violently inside me.

Without thinking, I slapped his hand away.

For a split second, irritation flashed through his eyes, but he quickly masked it.

Then, as if remembering his script, he softened his expression and said, "Babe, you saw the news just now, right? It has already dropped to -8°C today, and the temperature will keep falling in the next few days. You know my parents' old house doesn't have heating."

He continued, "My mom called yesterday. She said the cold is making my dad's chronic leg problem flare up again. They worked so hard to raise me."

Then, he asked me, "Denise, do you think we could bring them here to spend the New Year? Let them enjoy the warmth of a heated home?"

Adrian's words pierced straight into my heart. They were the same lines he had used in my previous life.

Back then, he told me that his father had cold-sensitive legs, his mother had rheumatism, and both conditions could not tolerate cold at all. Since their old house had no heating, he begged me to let them stay for the New Year.

My parents had always been kind and understanding. Worried that his parents would suffer, I agreed immediately.

But who knew? Not only did his parents come, but they also brought along the impossible-to-deal-with younger sister. Only then did I see their true faces.

They assumed that since I had married Adrian, I could no longer escape. With that belief, they tore off all their masks.

The moment they arrived, they occupied every bedroom in my own home and ordered me to sleep on a mat in the living room.

Worst of all, Tiffany hated cat hair.

She told my mother-in-law, Carol, to throw Minnie out of the house while I was not looking.

By the time I realized it, two hours had already gone by. It was freezing outside, cold enough to be deadly. And Minnie, my tiny, gentle companion of three years, would never have lasted long out there.