Novel & Cerita I Spit On Your Grave Summary

"We fixed things, didn't we? I thought you wanted us to be sisters again. Please take me out of here, and I won't say anything to anyone." “Enough!” her father bellowed as he joined her. “You stand here at her grave and still pretend to be innocent. You should be ashamed of yourself.” Before I could respond, something warm and wet hit my cheek. I froze as I realized what it was, humiliation flooding through me as the spit slid down my skin. A ripple of shocked murmurs passed through the people, but no one intervened. Instead, another person spat, then another, until I felt surrounded by nothing but disgust.

He wipes its edges against his coat and slips it back into his pocket as he watches me throw up. Oblivious to his stare, I continue to vomit until I have nothing left to give. Spitting to the side, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and straighten. “Shit," I curse angrily, stepping away from the vile sight. I turn to Graven, anger flickering beneath my pale face. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? You fucking told me you could handle it.” "And I did handle it,” Graven replies calmly. "But Aeron wasn't alone. He had someone with him who wasn't meant to be there.”

*** Spencer showed up at my grave again looking rough—dark circles, unshaven, totally wrecked. He lit a small candle in front of my headstone. A gust of wind snuffed it out instantly. That was me. Why? Because his presence was annoying.

I pleaded as I lifted my head to look him in the face. “She isn't dead,” Gaty said as they both gave themselves a shocking stare. Gaty gave him a go-ahead nod. They lifted my body off the ground and immediately threw me inside the shallow grave Derek had dug. “I will hunt you down, even if it means burning down hell,” I said with my teeth clenched as the sand covered my face and I let out my last breath.

“You heard me, pretty boy. Pick that up and start putting in some real work for once.” His cohort, a weaselly little man with beady dark eyes and a shaved head, snickered at the remark. I felt a white-hot surge of rage grip me. They were treating this like another day at the park, like watching a man dig his own grave was nothing more than free entertainment. “Like hell,” I spat out, spitting on the ground at their feet. “You can kill me before I dig my own grave. I won’t do it—” The larger man cut me off with a harsh bark of laughter, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Sorry pal, but you’re fresh outta choices here.”

They had no idea what was happening. Then, my icy voice echoed through the surround sound system. "Do you really think you can take my family's investment money that easily, Jackie? I gave you everything! From the moment you betrayed me, you should know I can take everything away from you!" At the same time, Jackie got a call from his assistant. He took the call with a trembling hand. His assistant cried, "Sir, this is bad! Our share prices are plummeting, and all our partners want to cancel their deals. The bank's telling us to pay off our debts right away! We're going to go bankrupt!"

From the shadows, the ghost’s whisper slid through the air: “She buried you with her. The grave doesn’t belong to her anymore; It belongs to you.” The soil began to crack open, and air hissed upward like steam, sounding like a fire about to ignite. Vincent’s golden eyes blazed with intensity. He flexed his claws as he spoke fiercely. "If this grave holds me... I’ll destroy it." The soil cracked even more, and brilliant light burst through—blinding white. The sound rose louder and louder, like an explosion about to tear the world open. Vincent braced himself, coiling his body in anticipation of facing the blast.

"Today, I figured out the guard rotation for the VIP suites." "The Abyss isn't a playground. It's a mass grave for the wretched." The camera cut to me sitting by the body disposal pit behind The Abyss. There were so many boys thrown in here just like me. I paused, giving the camera a pale, exhausted smile. "Hey, Vivienne. Long time no see." "I don't know if I'll be dead by the time you see this." "But... I hope even if I die, my body won't be left here to rot in the mud like the rest of them."

You’re either next in line… or next in the grave. What the fuck was going on?

I spat, my words a cold finality, “then you’re about to go to your grave mute.” And I meant every word.