All Chapters of Reborn Into an Endless Murder Cycle: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

The oil began to smoke.My palms were slick with sweat as I carried the pot, trembling, toward the door.The lock clicked—I raised my hand, ready to throw.A force I couldn't break seized my wrist."Cindy, it's me!" my husband shouted.I froze, startled.Luckily, with the heavy snowfall, he was bundled in thick layers and unharmed. He took the pot from my hands, grimacing."You told me before that hot oil could be used as a weapon—I thought you were joking. Didn't expect you to actually mean it!"I had no mind for small talk. My gaze locked onto the backpack he had brought home.Inside it… was a hammer.My mind went blank. My lips trembled.That was it—the very weapon that had killed me in my last life.In that life, I had begged the police to let me stay overnight at the station. It was my husband who came to persuade me to go home."Baby, you're overthinking things. We can't interfere with their work."But following him had led me to my death—struck down by a hammer j

The killer had found me.In an instant, my scalp prickled. My throat felt clogged, as if something had sealed it shut—I couldn't even scream.For some reason, he didn't rush forward to stab me.Instead, he stood there, staring at me through the mask.I turned and ran—faster than I ever had in my life.The motion-sensor lights in the corridor flickered on one by one as I sprinted past. Behind me, hurried footsteps clung close, relentless as a shadow.I ran, crying uncontrollably, tears streaming down my face. A thought struck me so hard it nearly shattered my sanity.Why was it that the moment my husband disappeared, the killer appeared?The injury… had it all been an act?The one who wanted me dead… must be my husband!Choking on sobs, I cursed him in my heart, calling him a monster—but my feet never slowed.My heart pounded wildly under the strain of my desperate sprint.Then I saw the elevator.Hope flared in my eyes.As long as I could get down to the first floor… to t

My fingers clenched tightly around my phone, the joints going rigid. I could almost hear my bones grinding.They'd caught him. Then who… was the one outside the car?The answer struck like a needle driven into my temple, sharp and blinding. Every inconsistency snapped together in an instant.He knew the layout of the house like the back of his hand. He could open the front door with ease. No matter where I hid, he could always find me.It wasn't because the killer was some omnipotent monster. It was because—The killer was the master of that house. My husband. The man I had shared a bed with for five years.Behind the rabbit mask, his gaze clung to my face, as if savoring every flicker of my fear.He lifted his hand, knuckles curling, and tapped—slow, deliberate—against the glass beside the driver's seat.Tap. Tap. Tap.There was no escape.And that realization brought me an eerie calm.One-eighty-three versus one-sixty-eight. The difference in strength was absolute. If I

"Ms. Parker."The captain spoke in a measured, official tone, laced with reassurance."You've been through a severe shock. The mental strain is significant—we understand these stress reactions."I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.Ethan stepped to my side and slipped off his heavy coat, draping it gently over my shoulders. His movements were soft and attentive.He sighed, his smile tired yet sincere."Thank you, Captain. We're really sorry to trouble you. My wife's been under a lot of stress lately. I'll take her to the hospital for a proper checkup another day."A checkup.Psychiatry.My fists clenched instantly, nails digging into my palms.If I said now that he wanted to kill me, I'd only sound more insane—proving his point.The captain nodded."All right. Go home and get some rest. The snow's heavy—be careful. Contact us if anything comes up.""Of course, of course." Ethan thanked him repeatedly, his arm wrapping lightly around my shoulders—firm, leaving no room

The bindings were cut away. A sharp, tingling numbness surged through my wrists and ankles as blood rushed back. But I barely felt it.All that remained was the hollow weakness of someone who had narrowly survived death. My body trembled uncontrollably.After that, I gave countless statements at the police station.Ethan was formally arrested. But he never revealed his motive.The last time I saw him was through a pane of glass at the detention center. He wore a prison uniform, his expression calm—almost gentle.The officer asked, "Ethan, as far as we know, you and your wife had a good marriage for five years. Why did you suddenly choose to kill her this way?"He lifted his gaze, looking toward the one-way glass.He knew I was watching."Because a serial killer happened to appear nearby. If I copied his methods and killed Cindy, no one would suspect me. A perfect plan, isn't it?"A perfect plan.Sitting behind the glass, a bone-deep cold spread from the soles of my feet to th