As the lid of the casket groaned open, it revealed a nightmare of pale flesh and matted crimson. The body within was a ruined husk, the skull crushed with such calculated brutality that the features were unrecognizable—a hollowed mask of gore. The flesh had not yet succumbed to the stiffness of rigor mortis, suggesting the life had been snuffed out only hours prior.
Olivia's hand hovered over the mangled remains, her fingers trembling as she traced the cold contours of a body that clearly did not belong to the woman they sought. She swallowed hard, a drop of cold sweat tracing the line of her spine.
"If she didn't bury her here..." Olivia whispered, her voice a fragile thread of terror, "then where is she?"
Leon's composure snapped. He lunged at her, his hands clamping onto her shoulders with a crushing, skeletal grip. His silver eyes were wild, frantic lanterns in the dark. "What the hell do you mean? Where is Isabella? Where is my wife!"
