Uvogin Death

My husband's first love had been trapped in a car for an hour. After they pulled her out, his rage shifted onto me. “It’s your fault she got hurt,” he spat, his eyes blazing as he grabbed me. Before I could make sense of what was happening, he forced me into a wooden box, slamming the lid down with a deafening crack. “You’re going to feel every ounce of the pain she went through,” he hissed, nailing it shut. I pounded on the walls, my screams tearing through the air. “Please, I didn’t do anything! Let me out!” My throat burned with the effort, my fists aching, but nothing stopped him. “Stay in there until you’ve figured out how to act like a decent human being,” he said, his voice cold, dripping with contempt. Hours passed. My body twisted unnaturally in the tight space, bones throbbing as blood smeared the wood beneath me. I whispered into the dark, the pain unbearable. "Please… just let me out…" But he didn’t care. A week later, he returned, his laughter echoing with hers as they entered the house, carefree from their trip. He finally opened the box. But by then, I was already gone. The woman he locked away was no longer breathing, no longer pleading. Just a cold, silent corpse.

Dalawang buwan ng mamatay ako, napagtanto ng mga magulang ko na nakalimutan nila akong iuwi mula sa lakad nila. Naiinis na sumimangot at sumigaw ang ama ko. “Dapat siyang maglakad mag-isa mismo. Kailangan ba niya talaga itong palakihin?” Ang kapatid ko, na mayabang, ay binuksan ang chat namin at nagpadala ng emoji, kasama ng message. [Mamatay ka na dyan. Sa ganitong paraan. Kami ni Scarlet ang maghahati sa pamana ni Lola.] Wala siyang natanggap na sagot. Habang malamig ang ekspresyon, nagsalita ang nanay ko, “Sabihin mo sa kanya na kapag nagpakita siya sa kaarawan ng lola niya sa tamang oras, hahayaan ko na ang pagtulak niya kay Scarlet sa tubig.” Hindi sila naniniwala na hindi ako nakaalis ng gubat. Matapos maghukay ng malalim, nakita nila sawakas ang mga buto ko.

I knew that my father did not like me since I was young. When I wanted to commit suicide to end the pain caused by my illness, he was celebrating another child’s birthday. He hated my mother and me alongside her. So, when I told him that I was sick, he did not believe me. “Is this your new tactic to get money from me?” No one believed that the daughter of the Powell family could die because she was too poor to pay the hospital fees. My father did not believe it either. However, when he saw my dead body, the famous actor who hated his daughter actually went insane.

Five years after I died, Delia—my wife, a doctor—tried to dump her first love's new mess on me again. She stormed into my old place, waving some fake agreement with my name on it, but all she found was dust. Panicking, she ran downstairs and cornered the shop owner. "William?" he said. "He's been dead five years. Heard the family of that malpractice case found him. Stabbed him up bad." Delia laughed it off, like the guy was making it up. "So what if he got suspended? He's still sulking over that?" She rolled her eyes. "Tell him this—he's got three days. If he doesn't show, I'm cutting off his sister's cancer treatment." She muttered something ugly, slammed the door, and left. The shop owner just watched her go, shaking his head. "There's no sister left," he said quietly. "She died years ago... couldn't pay for treatment."

My husband, the hospital director, stole my kidney to save his beloved first love, who suffered from uremia. While I was under anesthesia for heart surgery, he stormed into the operating room without permission and ordered the removal of one of my kidneys. I begged him to stop, explaining that my heart condition was critical and that I could not survive back-to-back major surgeries. He only sneered at me, his voice dripping with disdain. “I knew you’d be jealous of Cece and make pathetic excuses. That’s exactly why I chose this moment.” Ignoring my desperate pleas, he took my kidney and walked away. In the end, I suffered multiple post-surgery complications and died miserably on the operating table.

The day I found out I was a match for my dad—stage four leukemia—I bailed. Mom tore the world apart looking for me, but yeah, she had to watch him go. After that, she drowned herself in research, built a name, even adopted this perfect little angel. We crossed paths again at some fancy leukemia conference she was hosting. I was on the demo table. She took one look and scoffed. "Charlotte Stein, not the time for your crap. Get up and go." The host blinked, stunned. "Dr. Cooper... you know this cadaver?" She actually laughed. "What, she paid you for this stunt?" The host turned ghost-white. "M-Miss Stein passed three days ago..."

Rogues suddenly attacked the werewolf hospital. My husband, the captain of the rescue team, rushed over. Everyone thought he had come to protect me. But he rushed straight to his teammate Ayla, completely oblivious to the rogue behind him raising a dagger. Without thinking, I lunged forward and pushed him out of the way. But to my surprise, he grabbed me and held me in front of his childhood friend. The dagger pierced my abdomen, killing our pup. When my colleagues tried to save me, my mate, Paolo Greco, pulled them away. “Save Ayla first! If anything happens to her, I’ll sue your hospital in the werewolf court!” My colleagues looked at him in shock. “But your mate is bleeding heavily! She can’t even stand up now! Ayla only has a cut on her arm; her condition isn’t critical.” I clutched my bleeding abdomen. Heartbroken, I told my colleagues to save her first. “Forget it. Save her first.” Paolo, you saved my life once. I am returning the favor. From that moment, we owe each other nothing. We should never meet again.

My estranged husband suddenly barges into my parents' home, demanding to know where I am. He forces my mother to her knees and pushes my paralyzed father to the floor before beating him up. He even renders our four-year-old son half-dead. Why? Because his true love is disfigured and needs a skin graft to restore her looks. "Where is Victoria? She should be honored that she can do this for Amelia! Hand her over, or I'll kill all of you!" It's too bad I've been dead for a year.

My in-laws-to-be are poisoned, but my fiancé insists on going fishing with his true love. I don't stop him. In fact, I lend him my car. In my past life, he chose to take his parents to the hospital after I stopped him. However, his true love died at sea and ended up being eaten by the sharks. My fiancé was normal after her death. However, when we were on our honeymoon, he stabbed me and pushed me into the ocean. "It's all your fault, Fiona! I failed to save Lauren because of you! Now that she's dead, you don't deserve to live, either!" The scent of my blood attracted the sharks. They ripped me to pieces before I could drown. When I open my eyes again, I find my in-laws-to-be lying in their bed. My fiancé runs off to save his true love. Ultimately, he still regrets his actions.

My boyfriend's first love and I roll down the stairs at the same time. I'm unscathed, but she passes out. He's furious and orders people to break my limbs, drug me, and throw me into a kennel. "I'll make you pay a hundredfold for the pain Jean experienced!" I think about the hurricane warning I saw earlier and endure the pain while pleading with him. "Please don't do this, Jason! I'll die!" He sneers at my begging and holds Jean close while she continues acting like she's unconscious. He snaps, "It's too late to beg for mercy now!" It's pouring outside, and the wind whips everything around. Thunder cracks and lightning flashes, but I'm still thrown outside. Two days later, Jason instructs someone to get me. "Go get her. Jean wants to have her cooking!" What he doesn't know is that I'll never stand before him again. Not alive, anyway.