I Smashed My Mistress’s Coffin with an Axe to Prove She Was Still Alive

The Screams in the Parlor

The air inside the Sterling manor parlor was thick with the scent of lilies and the heavy, suffocating weight of grief. Dozens of wealthy mourners stood in silent sorrow, their black veils and tailored suits matching the solemn atmosphere. In the center of the room, resting on ornate metal stands, was a pristine white wooden coffin. It was supposed to contain the body of twenty-four-year-old Emma Sterling, who had supposedly passed away in her sleep. But the silence was violently shattered by the deafening sound of splintering wood.

Mia, the young twenty-one-year-old maid, stood before the casket, her hands trembling violently as she clutched a heavy woodcutter's axe. Her burgundy uniform was dusty, and her white apron was stained with splinters. The lid of the coffin had a massive, jagged hole smashed right through the center. The mourners gasped in horror, stepping back as if they were looking at a madwoman.

"Stop the funeral, she's not dead!" Mia screamed desperately, her voice cracking with raw emotion.

Arthur, Emma’s fifty-five-year-old father, took a furious step forward. His short grey hair bristled, and his wire-rimmed glasses shook on his nose. His black wool suit seemed to stiffen as he roared back at her.

"Have you lost your mind?!" Arthur yelled, his face turning a dangerous shade of crimson. "Guards, get this lunatic out of here!"

But Mia didn't back down. Tears streamed down her face as she pleaded with the crowd.

"I heard her! I heard her crying!"

she sobbed, pointing a shaking finger at the shattered wood.

Suddenly, the room fell dead silent. From within the dark, splintered depths of the coffin, a faint, muffled whisper echoed.

"No... don't do this to me..."

Mia gasped, her eyes wide.

"I washed her hair this morning, her hands were warm,"

she insisted, looking at the stunned crowd. Arthur froze, looking around in sudden panic.

"Did you hear that?"

he stammered. Eleanor, Emma's stepmother, slowly approached. She gently touched the splintered wood and gasped,

"My God... Emma?"