Plot to p0.ison wife and seize shares ends in shock: ‘The dec3:ased’ suddenly springs from the coffin, livestreaming a jaw-dropping turn of events!
CHAPTER I: THE METALLIC TASTE IN THE WARM CUP OF WATER
That gray city was immersed in a thick, suffocating fog, heavy with the smell of charcoal and the steady drizzle of rain trickling through time-worn eaves. In a quiet, secluded corner of the metropolis, where ancient villas hid under the shadows of aged pine trees, existed a family straining beneath a glamorous, regal exterior.
The young woman sat by an exquisitely carved rosewood table, her gaze absentmindedly looking out at the deserted courtyard beyond the window. She carried within her a tiny soul—her firstborn child, which should have been the most sacred happiness of her life. But ironically, that very fetus, along with the colossal fortune and controlling shares of the region’s largest commercial conglomerate that she inherited from her late father, turned her into a thorn in the eyes of those called “family.”
The room door ajar. The mother-in-law stepped in, wearing a gentle smile so sweet it sent chills down the spine. In her hand was a glass of warm water and the familiar light pink prenatal pill—something she had personally prepared for her every single day for months with a degree of “devoted care” that could not be faulted.
— “Be a good child, drink it to regain your strength. Grandchild can’t lack nutrients,” – she spoke in a sweet voice, placing the glass of water on the table, her eyes glued to every movement of hers with a smoldering, greedy anticipation.
The husband followed closely behind, standing right beside his mother, the corners of his lips twitching into an emotionless smile that was quickly hidden beneath a fake mask of worry. He patted his wife’s shoulder: “That’s right, honey, Mom went out of her way to wake up early to brew tonic medicine for you, don’t let her kindness go to waste.”“
She looked at the two people before her. The alignment in their shifting eyes, the hurried concealment of a monstrous conspiracy beneath a veneer of family respectability fell squarely into her sharp line of sight. Weeks prior, when unusual cramping pains appeared after each dose of medication, she had secretly taken a sample of the pills for testing at an independent laboratory in a remote suburb.
The result came back ice-cold: A low-dose neurotoxin, accumulating gradually over time, strong enough to paralyze the heart muscle, triggering a stroke completely identical to severe morning sickness complications in pregnant women, making death occur “naturally” without a trace.
And purpose? Crystal clear. If she died before signing the share authorization document, that entire colossal fortune would legally fall into the husband’s hands under inheritance law, allowing him and the mother-in-law to take over the corporation’s entire board of directors.
— “Yes, thank you Mom and dear. I’ll drink it right now,” – she smiled gently, a chillingly calm smile that kept the mother and son from suspecting a thing.
She picked up the glass of water, raising it to her lips, but out of their sight, she cleverly poured the toxic liquid into a handkerchief hidden in her palm, taking only a tiny sip for show. The mother-in-law nodded in satisfaction, urged her to rest, and then walked outside with her son, not forgetting to half-lock the door.
That night, the room sank into thick darkness. She sat before the vanity, her hand tightly gripping her smartphone. She knew that if she reported this to the police now, given the underground network of connections her husband’s family had built over the years in this city, all evidence would be distorted, and she might even be permanently silenced before she could clear her name.
There was only one path to expose this cruel farce: She had to bury herself into the bottom of the grave with her own hands, and then from that dark place, drag the perpetrators out into the light.
CHAPTER II: THE DOSE OF AWAKENING
Inside her personal medicine cabinet, hidden behind ordinary vitamin bottles, was a box of ultra-strong sleeping pills she had quietly kept since discovering her wretched husband’s true face. It was a special medical compound capable of reducing heart rate to a minimum, lowering body temperature, and throwing the body into a state of deep coma completely identical to clinical death—a state that even inexperienced doctors could easily conclude as death through a brief superficial examination.
She took a deep breath, swallowing the bitter pills straight down her throat. The acrid taste spread, seeping deep into every blood vessel. She lay down on the plush velvet bed, pulling the blanket up to her chest, closing her eyes tightly, and completely relaxing her muscles.
Just minutes later, an icy sensation began to spread from her fingertips up to her chest. Her heartbeat slowed down, grew weaker, and then seemed to fade entirely in the silent space of the night. Her consciousness sank into a pitch-black void, where the line between life and death was as fragile as a spider’s web.
The next morning, frantic knocking and fake screams rang out. The mother-in-law pushed open the door, rushed to the bedside, and began a pathetic crying act upon seeing her cold “corpse” lying motionless. The husband followed behind, burying his face to sob, but his eyes stealthily scanning the room flashed with the aurora of ultimate satisfaction.
— “Oh my child… why have you left Mom like this…” – the mother-in-law wailed, crocodile tears streaming down her thickly made-up face.
The family’s personal doctor—a man who had taken bribes beforehand—was hastily summoned. After a few perfunctory examinations, he shook his head and sighed, delivering a blatant conclusion: “The patient suffered a stroke due to sudden pregnancy complications and died before reaching the hospital. No signs of external force.”
Everything happened with dizzying speed, following precisely the flawless script the husband and mother-in-law had secretly mapped out beforehand. No complex autopsy required, no cumbersome investigations. The husband’s family quickly organized a lavish funeral, both to put up a mourning and filial appearance before the public and to accelerate the completion of legal procedures for asset transfer.
CHAPTER III: THE FUNERAL STAGE AND TRIUMPHANT SMILES
The city’s central funeral home was immersed in a sea of pristine white chrysanthemums. Sorrowful dirge music echoed mournfully, blanketing a gloomy, mournful space.
Mourners came in crowds, all looking at the precious wooden coffin placed in the center of the grand hall with eyes full of sympathy for a tragic beauty. Standing beside the reception desk were the husband and mother-in-law, draped in pitch-black mourning attire. Though wearing black face masks and acting grief-stricken, upon closer inspection, one could catch their eyes occasionally darting toward each other with cunning malice, unable to hide their overflowing excitement.
— “Things are proceeding so smoothly, Mom,” – the husband whispered softly into his mother’s ear as a group of lawyers stepped into the funeral home’s private parlor. – “As soon as we sign the inheritance acknowledgment document and share voting rights transfer per the supplementary will, the entire corporation will fall completely into our hands.”
The mother-in-law nodded decisively, the corners of her lips curling into a sinister smile: “That’s right. That foolish woman thought getting a huge background was bliss? In the end, it’s just a stepping stone for us to climb to the pinnacle of power. Sign quickly while the crowd is concentrated outside.”
At the tea table set right next to the luxuriously decorated coffin, a thick stack of files containing clauses transferring millions of shares was laid out. The family’s representative lawyer bowed respectfully, extending an expensive gold-plated fountain pen toward the husband.
The husband took a deep breath, picking up the pen with a hand slightly trembling with joy. He flipped to the final page—the page deciding the fate of the entire colossal fortune.
— “Farewell, my virtuous wife,” – he muttered a cold, sarcastic remark, then lowered his head to place the pen tip onto the paper.
Right at the moment the pen tip touched the paper, about to pull the first strokes to rob the deceased wife of her entire legacy, a strange sound echoed from inside the coffin placed right behind his back.
Click… Creee… ak…
CHAPTER IV: THE CORPSE SITS UP AND THE LENS OF TRUTH
The heavy wooden coffin lid shifting produced a dry sound, completely severing the silent atmosphere of the funeral parlor.
Everyone present in the room froze. The dirge music abruptly stopped. The lawyer stood rooted to the spot, dropping the pen from his hand. The husband and mother-in-law whipped around, eyes wide open, staring toward the coffin with morphed expressions, their blood seeming to freeze solid.
From inside the pristine white velvet lining, a slender, fair hand slowly reached up to grip the edge of the coffin.
And then, before the utterly stunned witness of dozens of people standing petrified, the woman presumed dead three days ago slowly sat up. Her face was pale yet extremely calm, her knife-sharp eyes piercing straight into the two shaking figures trembling like leaves.
More specifically, in her hand was not a funeral wreath or a portrait, but a smartphone mounted on a gimbal stabilizer, streaming live with the camera lens pointed straight at the pale faces of the husband and mother-in-law.
— “Hello my dear husband, hello filial mother-in-law,” – her voice rang out clear, cold, and echoing through a handheld speaker connected directly to the phone, penetrating every corner of the funeral parlor. – “What are you in such a hurry to sign? Why didn’t you wait for me to sign my own death certificate for you?”
The husband collapsed onto the floor, his legs going limp with no strength left, his mouth stuttering incoherently: — “You… are you human or a ghost… No way… I saw you take the medicine with my own eyes…”
— “That’s right, I drank the poison that the two of you personally spiked into my prenatal water glass every night,” – she stood completely up out of the coffin, stepping firmly onto the floor, her white mourning dress fluttering in the blinding flashlights of numerous phone lenses from curious guests who had started recording. – “Thanks to that poison dose, I discovered your beastly faces. Too bad for you, the sleeping pills I used only put my body into a temporary coma to cheat death, not enough to bury a conscious person alive.”
The mother-in-law fell backward, clutching her chest and gasping for breath, her heavily made-up face smeared with extreme panic: — “You… you dared to trick us! Why did you fake your death?!”
— “To see how pathetic your hypocritical masks look when they fall off,” – she smirked, raising the phone high. – “And to let thousands of people watching live on social media, along with the authorities, clearly hear every confession, clearly see every signature aimed at seizing your assets.”
Right at that moment, from outside the grand lobby, the blaring wails of police cars tore through the night. A squad of criminal police burst straight into the funeral home, holding emergency arrest warrants along with all physical evidence including carefully preserved poison samples, audio recordings of bribing the doctor, and backups of the live broadcast just recorded.
Flashing red and blue lights from the police cars shone straight through the glass windows, casting upon the desperate, utterly shocked faces of the husband and mother-in-law as cold handcuffs slowly tightened around their wrists.
She stood straight amidst the radiance of truth, gently smoothing her hair, and setting the phone down. The game was over, and justice was never absent for those who dared to use human lives as a stepping stone for bottomless greed.
