Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

It was a visceral reaction to the utmost sorrow and fear, not because the scene was

particularly grotesque.

In the dim cellar, there stood a life–sized glass case, illuminated from beneath, reminiscent of an artifact on display in a museum.

Within the glass, the sight was chilling: myself, hung with countless IV bags like a marionette. eyes gouged out and covered with a crimson blindfold.

My skin was pale and bloodless, and I wore only a scarlet slip dress with my feet nailed to the display stand.

The police and paramedics gingerly lifted the glass cover, and everyone gasped at the sight of

1. me.

For a moment, my body seemed like a macabre work of art, exhibited there. Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

Dexter stood frozen, his gaze jumping erratically, eyes brimming with horror and confusion.

I didn’t know what was going through his mind. Even I couldn’t bear to look any longer.

“The psycho… he removed her fingernails and embedded crystals, her earrings too, crystals… Everything on Phoebe, everything that was placed is valuable, even this glass case isn’t ordinary.”

“She still has a pulse, her breathing is faint,” the doctor shouted, signaling everyone to be careful with me.

I turned in shock to the doctor. A pulse? Faint breathing? What does that mean?

Am I not dead?

“The assailant likely injected the victim with a large amount of drugs. These are nutrients to maintain basic bodily functions. Right now, the victim is in a comatose state but still shows vital signs,” the doctor explained.

Stella collapsed to the ground, her emotions raw and spiraling out of control. “Save her, please. Robin, save her! Doctor… I beg you, save her.”

Stella knelt, her body trembling as she pleaded. She didn’t know who to beg to keep me alive.

“The killer is insane. The victim can only be positioned like this. If moved…” the doctor sighed.

“Don’t… please save her,” Stella cried out to them.

I stood numbly, slowly closing my eyes.

In that moment, I understood why my soul hadn’t vanished with my body. Because I hadn’t truly died.

“Save her “novtor stood still and it was a long while hofore he said those two words hoarsely

Save her.

What an ironic plea.

His face was ghostly pale, his legs numbly moving forward, as if trying to confirm that the person displayed in the glass case was really me.

“That maniac… I’ll kill him,” Dexter said in a hoarse, deep voice, sounding like he was searching for an outlet for his wrath.

He was shaking, looking down, unable to lift his gaze after confirming it was indeed me inside the glass case.

His eyes reddened with intense sorrow. Yet every move he made now seemed like mockery to

1. me.

Ridiculous!

“You’re the one who killed her!” Stella screamed uncontrollably, rushing forward to slap Dexter hard across the face. “You’re nothing but a jerk.”

Dexter stood there passively, letting Stella rage, motionless.

I watched the urgency of the police and paramedics, the breakdown of my best friend, Robin trying to intervene, Dexter staggering backward until he fell to the ground…

“Robin! Phoebe’s not breathing!”

“Beep beep beep…” The harsh alarm of the heart monitor sounded, and I watched as my life slipped away until silence.

So this is what dying feels like.