Chapter 1

On our wedding night, my husband, Jeffrey Vance, gave me one absolute rule—

Never go down into the basement of our new house.

Whenever I pressed him on why, he dodged the question.

He would just nibble on my ear, teasing, "There's a monster locked down there. Going in will only bring you bad luck."

I tried sneaking down once when he wasn't looking.

The moment my hand touched the doorknob, Jeffrey's voice rang out behind me.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing?"

Startled, I stammered an excuse and ran off.

From that day on, I couldn't stop wondering what dark secret he was hiding down there.

Then, Jeffrey left on a business trip.

While cleaning the house, I found a bloody human finger.

Following the trail of crimson drops, I arrived at the basement door, turned the knob, and stepped inside.

Dozens of glass jars lined the room, preserving specimens of various parts of my body.

From nail clippings he took the first time we held hands, to strands of my hair collected right after sex last night.

In the center of the room, a recording device played my voice on an endless loop.

"Help, Jeffrey, please don't... it hurts so bad..."

It was from last month, when I had my miscarriage—the desperate begging I'd cried out in the operating room.

Just as I turned to run, something icy cold touched the back of my neck.

"Rachel, you finally found it."

"Every time you cry, all I can think about is turning you into the most perfect specimen."

My blood froze instantly.

Then, a woman's seductive laugh cut through the recording:

"Jeffrey, your wife's vocal cords... when are you going to cut them out for me?"

I whipped around.

Jeffrey stood at the entrance of the basement, holding a scalpel.

"You've... been collecting these all along?"

My voice trembled violently.

"Since day one of our marriage."

He took a step forward, his footsteps eerily silent.

"You said you loved every part of me, including my professional habits. Remember?"

I was a medical student. He was the youngest forensic pathology professor at the university.

Everyone used to say we were a match made in heaven.

Now, looking at him made me want to vomit.

"What about that recording?"

I pointed at the equipment in the middle of the room.

"The day I lost the baby... why is Chloe's voice on that tape?"

Chloe Adams was his ex-girlfriend.

She had returned from abroad three months ago and started working at the same hospital.

Jeffrey paused, resting the tip of the scalpel against his own fingernail.

"Chloe is just fascinated by my research," he said casually.

"She wants a complete set of vocal cords for a teaching model. I thought yours would be a perfect fit."

"A perfect fit?"

I let out a hysterical, tearful laugh.

"Jeffrey, I'm your wife!"

"And?"

He tilted his head, smiling with utter indifference.

"Rachel, you're too emotional. Science requires sacrifice."

He stepped closer.

I backed away instinctively until my spine hit a display cabinet.

In the jar behind me was another severed finger, a pinky, still painted with my favorite nude-pink polish.

It was the finger I had accidentally sliced while cooking last month.

"You want to preserve me? Turn me into a specimen like those dead bodies?"

Jeffrey smiled.

To me, it was pure nightmare fuel.

"You're not like them," he said softly.

"You're living art. I'm going to make you my absolute masterpiece."

He reached out toward me.

I screamed, shoved him with all my might, and bolted for the stairs.

The basement door was deadbolted.

"Let me out!"

I hammered frantically on the thick wood.

"You're insane, Jeffrey! This is murder!"

He caught me from behind, his lips brushing against my ear.

"The law only protects the living."

"To me, you're already a gorgeous corpse waiting to be dissected."

I thrashed wildly, my nails tearing across the back of his hand.

Beads of blood welled up. He lowered his head and licked the blood away, his eyes glazed with obsession.

"You're even stunning when you fight back," he murmured.

"Pity, though. Time is up."

Before I could say a word, a sharp sting pierced the side of my neck.

A needle had sunk deep into my skin.

As icy liquid flooded my veins, my limbs went numb.

Before darkness took me, the basement door clicked open.

Chloe entered in scrubs, pushing a surgical crash cart.

She leaned over me, smiling cruelly.

"Don't worry, Rachel. Jeffrey's technique is flawless. It won't hurt a bit."

"Once you're preserved, you'll be by his side forever."

Jeffrey took the scalpel from her, resting the cold blade against my throat.

I parted my lips, but no sound came out.

In my final seconds of awareness, I heard him speak.

"In your next life, don't be my wife."

"Things that are too easy to keep... just make me want to destroy them."