My Husband Never Dies - Chapter 1
Prologue
I killed my husband.
My heart pounded like mad. It felt like fear and panic were eating me alive.
Because I killed someone?
No.
I’d long grown numb to killing. The feeling didn’t come from the act itself.
Thwack!
Evelyn gasped for breath as she hacked at the long leg.
“Hah… Hah…”
No, rather she tried to hack it.
But a human body doesn’t slice like a well-cooked steak.
Human skin is tougher than it looks. Beneath it, the muscle packed tight, the bone thicker and sturdier than her own delicate frame. None of it came apart easily.
“Damn it, I’m not the type to exert myself.”
She’d seen this beautiful naked body more times than she could count. But without a shred of guilt, Evelyn drove the heavy blade down into the split flesh again.
Shhk!
The last of the blood sprayed into the air.
It was a gruesome, skin-crawling scene — enough to make most people retch, maybe even pass out.
But Evelyn kept swinging the butcher’s knife.
Thud. Thud. Th-thud!
Splatter!
Lukewarm blood misted across her face. She shut her eyes on reflex, a few droplets catching on her golden lashes.
The stench was so thick it numbed her nose. She didn’t want to breathe. Some lunatics claimed the smell of blood was intoxicating, but she wasn’t one of them.
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. A streak of red smeared across the thin glove. Her vision cleared.
Chssk.
The blade caught on bone, like a hand grabbing the nape of her neck, trying to stop her.
But Evelyn only tightened her grip. She wasn’t going to stop.
She brought the blade down again.
And again.
Until the leg, below the knee, came clean off.
She turned her eyes away from the severed calf and drove the blade into the thigh.
“Ugh…!”
It felt like he might open his eyes at any moment, sit up and speak. She didn’t dare look at his face.
Thunk! Shhk!
She should’ve taken it off in one clean stroke.
Slick. Slice.
Thud!
Each sickening sound echoed through the trees. The earth drank it in — slowly at first, then greedily. The thick liquid pooled, again and again, until it settled into a dark, glistening puddle.
No lanterns lit the forest. Only the moonlight bled through the canopy.
With time, the blood would seep into the dirt. The scent would draw out the beasts. They’d take care of the scraps she left behind.
And if she scattered the limbs deeper in the woods — spread them out, piece by piece — the wild animals would drag them away.
Then…
Then this body would never be found.
Never again.
It won’t go back together.
By the time she’d hacked the body into eight pieces, sweat was pouring off her like rain. The thin dress clung to her skin, soaked with blood and sweat both.
“Haaah…”
She caught her breath beneath the pale downpour of moonlight.
Her shadow stretched long over the corpse — limbs severed, torso splayed open — yet his face lay undisturbed, like he was merely asleep.
Eyelids gently closed. That sharp, elegant nose. Lips resting in the faintest, natural smile.
Even now, that face, still beautiful even in these bloody circumstances, made her skin crawl.
Let’s end our cursed bond here.
Evelyn clenched her jaw and brought the blade to her dead husband’s neck.
The edge, dulled from sawing through bone, resisted. Only after wrenching her arm near to dislocation did she finally separate the head from the body.
“Haaah… fxck! Should’ve stayed in Zelakent. Damn princeling bastard…”
The curse burst out between ragged breaths. And yet, it wasn’t just the strain of exertion that choked her voice.
It was that she had to kill something like this.
For some reason, Evelyn couldn’t say it aloud. It was as if the moment she did, the hacked-up corpse would rise and look at her.
It was a ridiculous thought. And yet she was afraid. She had killed so many. But this was more terrifying than her very first murder.
Since arriving here, it felt like she’d been lost in a thick fog, unable to find her way out.
With a soft collapse, her legs gave out. She sank into the blood-soaked earth, murmuring in a daze.
“…I’m done. I should just retire.”
The night was so quiet that even the sound of leaves brushing against each other seemed loud.
And still, there was more work to be done.
Evelyn braced her hands on the ground and slowly pushed herself back to her feet, legs trembling beneath her.
Unsteady, but moving, she knelt and began stuffing the chopped-up remains into the sack she had brought alongside her butcher’s knife.
One by one, she would scatter these things throughout the forest.
Clutching the sack now slick with seeping blood, she dragged it behind her, step by step, deeper into the woods.
Her arms shook with the weight. But thinking of it as the last time gave her just enough strength.
In the pitch-dark forest, where not even moonlight reached, she wandered — dropping one chunk of flesh at a time into the soil.
The heavy torso, she buried deeper still in a place no human would ever dare to reach.
And the head…
The head she couldn’t bring herself to look at directly. That, she dropped into a forest pond, hidden in the heart of the woods where no one came.
As she let go of the black hair like discarding something cursed, relief washed over her. Those eyes would never look at her again.
Suckerforshipping
here me out (i swear i’m not a psycho, promise): what if she fed his hacked parts to pigs or something and see if he stays dead? bc clearly burying them and tossing them willy nilly doesn’t do anything, like they crawl back together 🤔
Vanilla _enjoyer_25
Or what if she use meat grinder and see if he can come back to life (I also swear that I am not a psycho)
Hilale
Waow 😮😦😦😧