I froze where I stood. My throat felt tight, my hands trembled so much that the phone nearly slipped from my grip. My husband—my own David—was lying inside a coffin, not our bed.
This was the first time I saw him doing this for the past 5 years we got married, he never did this.
His skin was pale, his chest barely rising. Cotton wool was stuffed into his nose like that of a corpse prepared for burial.
My heart thumped so loudly I could hear it echo in the room. I wanted to scream, to run, but my feet were rooted to the floor.
Then—slowly—David moved. His eyes opened, cold and lifeless, and he sat up in the coffin with a stiff motion that didn’t seem human.
“Precious…” his voice was low and strange, like two people were speaking at once. “Come… let’s have s3x.”
My body went cold. My David never called me by my name. He always called me *honey*, *love*, *baby*—never *Precious*.
He stretched out his hand toward me, fingers stiff and pale. “Come into the coffin,” he said.
I shook my head. “David, please stop this. You’re scaring me.”
He tilted his head to one side, smiling that same unnatural smile. “Don’t be afraid. You’re mine, Precious. It’s time.”
Time for what? My mind screamed for answers. I remembered My mother-in-law’s warning few hours ago—”Don’t sleep in that room tonight. Please, I beg you.”
But I couldn’t move. My body felt heavy, like something unseen was pushing me toward him. My feet started moving on their own, step by step, closer to the coffin. His eyes followed me, dark and hollow.
When I got close enough, his cold hands shot out and grabbed me by the wrist. I gasped, trying to pull back, but his strength was terrifying. He yanked me forward, and before I knew it, I fell into the coffin—right on top of him.
The air left my lungs. I tried to scream, but no sound came out.
He looked straight into my eyes. “It’s time to claim you, Precious.”
“Claim me? David, what are you saying?” I cried, shaking my head. “We’re married! I’m carrying your child!”
He didn’t blink. His eyes were no longer his—they were dark, empty, and filled with something wicked. I could see no trace of the man I loved.
Then, as he leaned closer, I noticed his breath—it was cold. Not warm, not human. Cold like a graveyard at midnight.
His lips were inches from mine when suddenly a loud scream pierced the silence.
“I’m dying! I’m dying! Please save me!”
It was Lara, our maid.
David’s head snapped toward the sound, his face twisting with anger.
I took that moment. I shoved him as hard as I could and scrambled out of the coffin, falling onto the floor. My legs barely worked, but I ran—down the stairs, through the corridor, following Lara’s voice.
When I reached her, she was lying on the floor, shaking and crying.
“Lara!” I knelt beside her, my breath fast and shaky. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
She looked up at me, tears in her eyes—but then she whispered weakly, “I’m acting, Ma. I did this to save you.”
“What?” I stared at her, confused and scared. “Save me from what?”
She swallowed hard, her voice trembling. “Please, you have to believe me. There’s something you don’t know. Something your mother-in-law and I tried to hide.”
“Lara, talk to me!” I begged, gripping her arm. “What are you saying?”
She looked toward the stairs, fear flickering in her eyes.
“David… your husband… he died today,” she said in a whisper. “The call you got—it wasn’t a prank. Your husband really died in that room.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “What are you talking about? He’s upstairs! I saw him!”
She shook her head, her lips trembling. “That man in your room… he’s not David. He’s…”
My head was spinning, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. How could my husband—*my David*—be sleeping in a coffin, with cotton stuffed in his nose, asking for something so strange and cold?
As I ran to Lara, our newly hired maid, my heart pounded like it would burst. She was still lying on the floor screaming, clutching her stomach.
“Lara!” I cried, bending beside her.
Then, suddenly, she stopped and whispered, “Ma, I’m acting… I did it to save you.”
I froze, staring at her. “What are you saying?”
She held my hand tightly, her eyes wide and scared. “That’s not your husband. He’s someone else. Your real husband died today.”
I blinked, confused. “What do you mean? I just spoke with him. I saw him. He’s upstairs right now!”
She shook her head quickly. “No, Ma, listen to me, he’s not—”
Before she could finish, the sound of slow, heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway.
We turned together.
There he was—David, standing at the entrance, tall and still. His face looked pale like candle wax, and the same pieces of cotton were still stuffed into his nose. My breath caught in my throat.
His voice boomed across the room, cold and deep. “You’re fired, Lara. Get out of my house.”
Lara’s lips trembled. She bowed her head and began to pack her things, too frightened to speak.
I turned to him, my voice shaking. “Honey, why would you fire her? She didn’t do anything wrong. And why were you… sleeping in a coffin?”
He looked at me and smiled, but there was nothing loving in that smile. It was cold, forced. “Don’t worry about it, Precious. Go to bed.”
Before I could say anything more, the doorbell rang. A man dressed in a white coat entered—it was a mortuary attendant.
“Good evening, Mr. David,” the man greeted softly.
David nodded. “Wait for me in the study,” he said.
The attendant went toward the study, and David followed, closing the door behind them.
Something inside me snapped. I couldn’t take it anymore. None of this made sense—my husband’s strange words, his refusal to sign his name, the coffin, the mortuary man, and now Lara’s warning.
So that midnight, while everyone was asleep, I decided to find out the truth.
I glanced at the clock—12:43 a.m. My mother-in-law was fast asleep, and the house was silent except for the faint ticking of the wall clock. I crept down the hallway, tiptoeing carefully.
I stopped outside the study door and pulled out the key I had secretly taken earlier from David’s jacket pocket. My hand trembled as I slid it into the keyhole.
Click.
The door creaked open slowly.
At once, a foul smell hit me—thick and rotten, like decayed flesh. My eyes watered. I covered my nose with my hand and stepped inside. The air felt heavy, suffocating.
Everywhere was dark except for a dim lamp in the corner. My eyes scanned the room—and then I saw it.
Something large was wrapped tightly in a black nylon sheet and tied with rope.
My heart raced. I moved closer, every step echoing in the silence. My fingers trembled as I bent down and started to untie the rope.
The nylon tore open slightly, and the moment I looked inside, I froze.
It was a body.
David’s body.
Swollen, pale, and lifeless.
My knees gave way, and I fell backward, gasping for breath. My husband—the real David—was dead, right here in front of me.
My mind went blank. If this is David, I thought, then who is the man upstairs? Who have I been speaking to?
Just then, I felt it—an icy hand grabbed my shoulder from behind.
I turned around slowly, my heart slamming against my ribs.
Just Then we heard footsteps…
And there he was.
David.
My husband. His body was swollen, pale, and lifeless. His lips were dark, his skin cold as marble.
I staggered backward, covering my mouth to stop the scream that tore through my throat. Tears filled my eyes. “No… no, no, this can’t be real,” I whispered. “If this is David… then who’s the one in my room?”
Just then, I felt a cold hand grab my shoulder. I froze, afraid to turn around.
“Mom?” I gasped as I turned—and it was my mother-in-law. Her face was pale, her eyes wet with tears.
“You shouldn’t have seen this,” she said, shaking her head. “You shouldn’t have come here. Our lives are in danger now.”
“Mom, please tell me what’s going on,” I cried, my voice breaking.
She held my face in her hands. “The man in your room is not David. He’s Demian—David’s twin brother.”
“What?” I whispered, shaking my head. “David never told me he had a twin.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “We thought Demian died years ago. He disappeared after he tried to kill David when they were younger. He was jealous—jealous of his brother’s success, jealous that David had everything he wanted. But he didn’t die. He was hiding, planning this.”
I felt the world spin around me. “You mean… the person I’ve been living with, the one who slept in a coffin—is David’s k!ller?”
She nodded slowly, fear trembling in her voice. “Yes. He killed David this morning and took his place. He wanted to k!ll you too and take everything—your home, your child, your life.”
My knees went weak. My mother-in-law grabbed my hand. “Please, my dear, we must leave now before he finds us!”
We turned to run, but before we reached the door, a dark shadow appeared in the doorway.
It was Demian.
He stood there with a cruel smile on his face, holding an axe in his right hand. His eyes were dark and lifeless, just like before.
“So…” he said slowly, his voice dripping with hatred. “You found out, huh?”
My mother-in-law pushed me behind her. “Demian, please don’t do this! She’s your brother’s wife. Don’t destroy your family like this!”
But he only laughed—a deep, chilling sound that made my skin crawl.
“Family?” he sneered. “Where was family when David took everything that should have been mine? The company, the house, even the love!” His gaze dropped to my stomach. “Now he’s gone, and I’ll make sure his bloodline ends with you.”
He raised the axe, pointing it toward my baby bump.
“Your child will pay for this,” he said coldly.
“Please, Demian, stop!” my mother-in-law cried, falling to her knees.
But Demian moved closer. He grabbed me roughly by the arm, dragged me toward the table, and tied my hands with a rope. I screamed, struggling to free myself, but his grip was too strong.
He lifted the axe high above his head.
I closed my eyes, tears streaming down my cheeks.
Then suddenly—
“Police! Drop the weapon!”
Demian froze.
I opened my eyes to see Lara standing by the door with two policemen behind her.
“Let her go!” Lara shouted.
The officers rushed in. Demian tried to run, but they caught him before he could escape. The axe clattered to the floor as they pinned him down and handcuffed him.
I collapsed into my mother-in-law’s arms, crying uncontrollably.
It was over.
Days later, David’s real body was laid to rest in peace. The funeral was quiet and heavy with grief. As the coffin was lowered into the ground, I placed my hand on my belly and whispered, “Your father is watching over us now.”
THE END