MacKenzie woke up in darkness, her mouth dry and her body sluggish. Panic set in as she realized she was trapped in a satin-lined box—was it a coffin? Her limbs barely responded, likely drugged, and a wave of terror washed over her.

Outside, the van stopped. She heard footsteps, voices—then a chill ran down her spine. Paul. Her husband. Calm, cold, and unmistakably in control.

“Put her here,” he ordered.

It wasn’t just him. Sabrina, her friend, was there too—her voice filled with venom. The betrayal cut deeper than any fear.

“Finally, she’s where she belongs,” Sabrina sneered.

“I can’t believe we’re finally done with this,” Paul said, his words like a final nail in the coffin.

As the gravedigger opened the lid briefly, a breeze hit MacKenzie’s face—brief relief in the nightmare. She stayed still, feigning death, knowing any sign of life might end it for real.

Nearby, the cemetery dog barked uncontrollably, sensing something was wrong.

“She doesn’t even look human,” Sabrina muttered, peering in. “Like a doll. It’s creepy.”

MacKenzie remained frozen, listening—betrayed, buried alive, and desperate for a way out.