In the fifth year of my marriage, I died in my sleep.

However, I was born with a strange ability. Every time I died, I would come back to life at the exact moment before my last death.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at 11:11 p.m. on the night I died. Unable to find the killer, I became trapped in an endless loop.

The second time, I stayed up all night trying to catch whoever was behind it, but found nothing. The moment I let my guard down during the day and closed my eyes, I died instantly.

The third time, I refused to believe it and had my husband, Emmett Berkeley, lock the bedroom and seal the windows. I still died the next day.

The fourth time, I stayed alone in the bedroom, forcing myself to stay awake for three days straight to find the killer. By the third day, I couldn’t hold on any longer. My vision went black, and I died again.

By the fifth time, I had gone insane.

Right in front of Emmett, I grinned and hacked something to death. Blood splattered across the entire wall.

Looking at Emmett trembling in the corner, I licked the blood from my lips and smiled faintly. "Honey, don’t you love me? Help me take the fall, okay?"

The man who used to love me deeply pointed at me in horror, screaming, "Y-you found out… You knew, didn’t you…?"

I jolted awake, sitting straight up. Darkness still swallowed everything around me.

I tapped my phone screen. As expected, it was 11:11 p.m.

The rhythm of the snoring beside me, even the steady ticking of the pendulum clock in the living room… Everything was exactly the same as the last four times.

Every time I died, there had been no pain. I didn’t even know how I died.

The only thing I knew was that sleep was the trigger.

I dragged a hand down my face, irritation surging through me. How was it possible for a person not to sleep? This was a dead end.

Then, suddenly—

A faint rustling sound.

My body went rigid. I swept my gaze across the small bedroom, every nerve on edge.

The memory of my inexplicable deaths sent a chill crawling over my skin. Goosebumps rose instantly as I pressed my back tight against the wall.

I slammed the light switch on and grabbed Emmett Berkeley, shaking him hard, my eyes scanning the room without blinking.

"Honey, what is it?" Emmett squinted groggily, raising a hand to block the light.

Cold sweat broke across my forehead. I clenched my teeth and hissed under my breath, "There’s someone in our room. Emmett, get up. Now."

He snapped awake immediately and pulled me behind him. "Don’t be scared. I’ve got you."

I rolled my eyes, jumped off the bed, and bolted out of the bedroom. In the kitchen, I grabbed the sharpest boning knife I could find. Without hesitation, I rushed back in and locked the door behind me.

The bedroom wasn’t big—only a few dozen square feet.

There were only two places anyone could hide: the balcony or the bathroom.

I tightened my grip on the knife and stared at the curtains. A bulge pressed against the fabric, trembling.

"Who’s there? I’ll count to three. Come out now, and I might not hurt you.

"One.

"Two—"

Before I could reach three, lightning split the sky outside. A deafening crack of thunder exploded through the night.

My heart slammed wildly against my ribs. Every nerve in my body snapped tight.

Behind me, Emmett swallowed hard and whispered, "Honey, even if someone’s there, it’s probably just a kid."

"That’s not possible…"

I didn’t wait for three. I swung the knife down hard at the person behind the curtain.

Whoever it was hiding in the dark, killing me over and over, I was going to kill them.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. My grip tightened, and I brought the blade down again and again, mercilessly.

Sweat dripped into my eyes, stinging me, but a strange thrill surged up from somewhere deep inside me.

I didn’t blink as blood soaked through the gray curtains, spreading into a dark brown stain. The shadow cast against the wall looked like a butcher delivering judgment.

I kept going.

Until the curtain was shredded and collapsed into a heap.

Until the resistance I’d felt at the first strike turned soft, limp.

Only then did I step back, wiping the sweat from my forehead, finally letting out a breath.

"Alright… let’s see what the hell you really are."

I reached out to pull the curtain aside.

A hand suddenly grabbed my arm.

"Honey, I—I’ll do it."

At that moment, something flickered past the frosted glass of the bathroom door in my peripheral vision.

Annoyance flared. I shook him off and kicked the bathroom door open, but there was no one inside.

Just a bird. Somehow, it had flew in.

I frowned, and killed it without hesitation.

At this point, I was on edge about everything. Anything alive was a threat.

Behind me, Emmett stared at the blood smeared across the wall. His face drained of color as he swallowed hard, his voice trembling. "H-Honey… have you lost your mind?"

Anyone who died four times and kept their memories would lose their mind.

Without thinking, I licked the blood from the corner of my lips. It tasted… oddly sweet.

My throat tightened with a sudden dryness. I wanted more.

I licked again, then forced the strange feeling down. Holding the bloodstained knife, I tilted my head and looked at him, a chilling smile curling across my face.

"Yeah. I’ve gone insane. I think someone in this house is trying to kill me.

"Honey, for my sake… why don’t you die instead? Otherwise, when I die, you’ll die too."

The balcony door suddenly swung open.

A gust of cold wind rushed in, rain and leaves slapping against Emmett’s face, making him shiver. He looked at me standing there with a bloodstained blade, half my face smeared red.

His legs gave out, and he dropped to his knees.

"Honey… India… there’s no one else in this house besides us. I would never hurt you! Did you have a nightmare? We’ve been together for ten years, married for five. Don’t you trust me?"

I said nothing.

He broke down, pointing shakily at our wedding photo on the wall. "Honey, don’t you remember? The year we met, I fell in love with you at first sight…"

I glanced at my phone.

11:30 p.m.

Impatience cut through me. I interrupted him coldly, "I just killed something. That means prison. I’m planning to kill myself before the police arrive. Since you love me so much, take the blame for me."

He froze and even forgot how to cry.

Then, as if he had made up his mind, he stepped forward and took the knife from my hand.

"Move aside. I’ll wipe off your fingerprints. You don’t know anything. Everything that happened tonight… it was me. You were just scared and hiding."

He muttered as he worked, tears glistening in his eyes, "I already had a lawyer transfer the house and the car fully to your name. After this, just live well."

He carefully wiped away every trace—footprints, fingerprints—everything. He even mimicked my movements, rehearsing how he would have wielded the knife.

I stood there the entire time, silent.

Finally, he straightened up, his face resolute. "Alright. Call the police."

I pulled out my phone and dialed. The waiting tone stretched unbearably long.

Still, from beginning to end, Emmett didn’t try to stop me. He didn’t change his mind.

The call finally connected.

"Hello, Sunshine District Police—"

I studied his expression for a moment. Then I spoke slowly, "My husband killed—"

I paused.

He sat on the bed, staring blankly at the blood, lost in thought.

Silence stretched.

The voice on the other end grew urgent. "Hello? Are you alright? Are you being threatened?"

I changed my words. "My husband killed a bird. Is that illegal?"

After I hung up, he stared at me in shock, unable to understand why I had backed out.

I smiled faintly. "I was lying. There was a bird behind the curtain. Look. Feathers everywhere."

He hurried over to check. Sure enough, there was a small pile of brown feathers.

He let out a breath and looked at me with mild annoyance. "Then why scare me like that? You nearly gave me a heart attack."

I didn’t respond. Instead, I turned away, a flicker of confusion crossing my face.

If it wasn’t Emmett…

Then how had I died?

All four previous times, no one had been near me except him.

Even the fourth time, when I forced him out, he could have come back with a key. However, after everything I had just seen, that didn’t seem possible.

I crossed my arms, scanning the room.

A strange thought surfaced.

Could there be a ghost in this house?

No.

If there were a ghost, I wouldn’t be resurrecting.

Then what was it?

A hidden illness? Was I dying in my sleep?

If I found the cause of death, would the loop finally end?

My eyes lit up.

I grabbed Emmett, who was still catching his breath.

"Honey, I’m going to the hospital."

At that moment, I hadn’t expected my husband, who had just agreed to take the blame without much resistance, to suddenly experience a change in expression.

His face tightened. He grabbed my wrist hard and dragged me back, his lips trembling slightly.

"You can’t go!"

The moment the words left his mouth, he seemed to realize how extreme he sounded. He quickly turned his head, stammering as he tried to explain.

"It’s too late right now. You’re not even feeling unwell, so there’s no need to rush to the hospital in the middle of the night. You still have work tomorrow!"

I didn’t notice anything strange at first. Irritated, I shook his hand off. "Work? If I don’t go to the hospital, I’ll be dead tomorrow. If you won’t come with me, I’ll go by myself. You go ahead and sleep."

With that, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door.

But before I could take a step, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist, locking me in place. He kept trying to persuade me, "When things calm down, I’ll take you back to my hometown. We’ll see a traditional doctor. They are way better than these modern doctors!"

That was when I finally noticed something was off.

All these years together, Emmett had never once mentioned traditional medicine. Whenever he got sick, it was always injections, pills—modern treatment.

Yet now, when I said I was going to die tomorrow, he didn’t care at all. Instead, he was desperately trying to stop me from going to the hospital.

Had he poisoned me?

The thought I had just suppressed surged right back. I kicked him hard in the stomach.

"Get off me, Emmett. I’m going to the hospital tonight, no matter what!" To make sure, I put even more force into my kick, my voice turning sharp with threat. "If you don’t let me go, I’ll divorce you!"

Even after I said that, he still clung to me, his face twisting in pain, refusing to let go.

"N-No! You can’t! I won’t let you go to the hospital! Even if we divorce, I still won’t let you go!"

That was it.

I was certain now that my husband knew something, and my repeated deaths had something to do with him.

All the fear, the despair, the endless loop with no clear end—

It felt like my heart had been dropped into an ice pit.

"Then we’re getting a divorce," I said coldly.

The next second—

BANG!

The door burst open.

His parents stood outside, faces full of anger, pointing at me as they shouted.

"You crazy woman, what gives you the right to ask for a divorce?!"

"When our son was chasing you, he went to school during the day and worked side jobs at night. Every cent he had, he spent on gifts for you!"

"When you got married, he sold our retirement home just to buy a new house for you, putting only your name on it! Even the savings and the car are in your name! We stayed away just so you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable after marriage!"

"When you got sick, he was more anxious than you! He even gave up a promotion to take care of you at home without a single complaint!"

"What right do you have to leave him?! You’re going to kill me with anger!"

I listened to everything without a trace of emotion, my mind twisting their words into something darker.

"So what if Emmett gave me everything?" I said flatly. "What’s the point?"

All three of them froze.

"What did you just say?"

I looked down at them, a cruel smile spreading across my face and my voice low, like something crawling out of hell.

"I said, you saw that I’m an only child. Even if everything’s in my name, once I die, it all goes back to Emmett anyway.

"Let me guess… You even bought life insurance for accidental death, didn’t you? Just waiting for me to die so you can cash in. Money and a clean inheritance. That must feel great, huh?"

The more I said it, the more convinced I became.

His parents’ faces turned ashen with anger. One of them slapped Emmett hard across the face.

"This is the woman you married?!"

"All your kindness fed to a dog! Even a dog would wag its tail!"

I glanced at my phone.

11:55 p.m.

Emmett looked at me, disappointment flickering in his eyes.

The last shred of my patience snapped. "Move. I’m going to the hospital."