The Neglected Wife's Bloody Revenge Pact

The rhythmic, mechanical hiss of the ventilator filled the intensive care unit. Jenna Hood lay flat on the sterile hospital bed, her cracked lips parted slightly. The machine forced air into her failing lungs, but her chest barely rose. She was suffocating in slow motion.

The heavy metal door of the room pushed open. The harsh, fluorescent light from the hallway spilled over the linoleum floor, shattering the dead silence.

Twenty-year-old Arthur and Clio walked in. They wore custom-tailored suits and haute couture dresses. The hard soles of their designer shoes clicked against the floor in a cold, calculated rhythm.

Clio stopped at the foot of the bed. She pinched her nose, her perfectly manicured eyebrows pulling together in disgust.

"God, the smell of bleach in here makes me want to vomit," Clio muttered.

Arthur stepped up to the side of the bed. He looked down at his mother's emaciated, bone-thin frame. A smirk, devoid of any warmth, curled the corner of his mouth.

Jenna's eyes darted toward him. Her eyeballs scraped dryly against her eyelids. She forced her arm up, the IV needles pulling painfully at her bruised skin. She reached for her son. She just wanted someone to hold her hand.

Arthur took a half-step back. He looked at her outstretched fingers as if they were covered in disease.

"Don't touch me," Arthur warned, his voice flat. "You'll ruin my jacket."

Jenna's hand froze in mid-air. The heart monitor beside her bed began to beep faster, betraying the sudden, violent spike in her pulse.

Clio stepped forward. She pulled her smartphone from her designer bag, tapped the screen, and shoved it directly into Jenna's line of sight. It was a high-resolution photo. Jenna's husband, Alonzo, had his arm wrapped tightly around the waist of a stunning, vibrant woman named Audra.

"Dad is marrying Aunt Audra next week," Clio said. Her voice was dripping with a sugary, toxic sweetness. "She is the mother we actually want."

Jenna's pupils dilated. Her throat convulsed, producing a broken, wheezing sound around the plastic tube. She tried to shake her head. It had to be a lie.

Arthur cut off her pathetic struggle.

"Stop acting so shocked," Arthur said coldly. "You were just a cheap incubator for the Knight family heirs. That's all you ever were."

He leaned down, bringing his face inches from Jenna's ear.

"You are a nobody. A penniless orphan with no background," Arthur whispered. "You've occupied the seat of Mrs. Knight for far too long."

A single tear leaked from the corner of Jenna's eye. It slid down her hollow cheek. The betrayal burned through her veins like battery acid, eating away at her organs.

Clio reached into her purse and pulled out a diamond-encrusted compact mirror. She shoved it right in front of Jenna's face.

"Look at yourself," Clio demanded. "Look at how ugly and dead you already are."

The reflection in the glass made Jenna's body jerk. She looked like a decaying corpse. The heart monitor shrieked, a high-pitched alarm echoing off the walls. Outside the glass window, the nurses did not even look up. They had been bought.

Arthur checked his Patek Philippe watch. He tapped his foot impatiently.

"We are going to be late for the charity gala," he said.

He turned his body. His eyes locked onto the wall behind the bed. He stared directly at the thick, black main power plug of the life support system.

Jenna followed his gaze. Pure, unadulterated terror exploded in her chest.

Arthur reached out without a second of hesitation. He wrapped his hand around the black plastic plug.

Jenna shook her head violently. Her eyes bulged. A silent, agonizing scream tore at her vocal cords.

Arthur looked back at her. He smiled. It was the exact same cold, flawless smile his father always wore.

He yanked his wrist back. A sharp click echoed in the room. The plug came out of the socket.

The machines died instantly. The room plunged into a suffocating silence, illuminated only by the blinking red light of the backup battery warning.

The oxygen supply cut off. Jenna's mouth opened wide like a fish thrown onto dry land. Her chest heaved violently, but no air came in. Her lungs screamed for oxygen.

Clio turned around and linked her arm through her brother's. They walked toward the heavy metal door without looking back.

Black spots danced in Jenna's vision. The physical agony of suffocation merged with a tidal wave of pure hatred. It set her brain on fire.

She stared at their retreating backs. Her fingernails dug so hard into her palms that they broke the skin. She swore a blood oath to whatever god was listening. If she ever got another chance, she would make them bleed.

The EKG monitor let out one final, piercing, continuous tone. The jagged green line on the screen flattened into a dead, straight line.

Jenna's arm dropped off the side of the bed. She plunged into the endless, dark abyss.