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Blood Debt

The high-rise office was eerily silent, the only sound being the rhythmic ticking of a clock echoing through the void. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the glass windows, illuminating a polished wooden desk where thick stacks of cash sat neatly arranged. They were the hard-earned results of Linh’s countless days working as a real estate agent. She sat there, her face radiant with confidence in a bright future, completely unaware that the man opposite her was staring at the money with eyes bloodshot from predatory greed.

Inside his worn leather briefcase, a large, cold cleaver lay in wait. A morbid excitement surged down the man’s spine, causing his hands hidden beneath the table to tremble—not from fear, but from the frantic anticipation of striking his “prey.” Just as a smile bloomed on Linh’s lips to celebrate a successful deal, the atmosphere was shattered. He swung his arm, the cold steel blade lunging out from the briefcase, plunging directly into her navel with a devastating force.

The Nightmare Begins

The moment the blade sank deep into her navel, Linh’s life effectively shattered. The first sensation wasn’t pain, but a terrifying dread—a wave of icy air piercing through her flesh to her very spine. It didn’t come gradually; it erupted like a massive flood. From the center of the wound, a searing burning sensation spread as if acid were being poured into her abdominal cavity.

Linh felt with horrific clarity the brutal tearing inside her body. The sound of steel slicing through her internal organs echoed hideously in her mind. Every muscle fiber contracted in vain, only to grind further against the razor-sharp blade, multiplying the pain tenfold. Panic seized her mind: “I have to pull it out! No, it’s too deep in my guts… I’m going to die. Call the police… someone, please!” She opened her mouth wide, but the air was blocked; she could only manage a strangled, broken gasp as the numbing agony froze every nerve.

He showed not an ounce of mercy. With the eyes of a professional killer, he looked down at the wound and smiled maliciously: “Pierced right through the navel… let her die slowly.” He knew that if he pulled the knife out now, the erupting blood would ruin the precious stacks of cash. He original ground his teeth, leaning his entire body weight to press the hilt even deeper, twisting the handle slightly so the wide blade tore through the abdominal muscles that were tensing in desperation. At this moment, the cruel blade acted like a grim stopper, sealing the gap between flesh and cold steel, temporarily imprisoning the hot blood inside.

The ultimate pain caused Linh’s arms to fall limp. Taking the opportunity, he brutally shoved her back onto the sofa. Linh lay curled up, clutching the handle of the knife—the deadly object now embedded deep within her body, stealing life from severed sections of her intestines. The rustling of money being looted drowned out her dying whimpers. He casually stepped out of the door, abandoning her in the room thick with the metallic stench of blood.

Gruesome Devastation

Linh lay there, her eyes glazing over as she watched the killer’s silhouette vanish behind the door. A fierce longing for life flared up, but her body was now like a ruined machine. The pain was too great for her to remain still; she writhed in a frantic instinct for survival. But that very movement became the Grim Reaper’s scythe. The wound, under the pressure of her twisting and the oversized blade, began to tear open. The sound of rending flesh was dry and bone-chilling.

Blood from severed major vessels poured out like a dam bursting. In her suffocating agony, she tried to cough, but the violent contraction of her diaphragm pushed the tragedy even further. With every gasp, a terrifying pressure expelled everything from within. Through the gap of the torn wound, blood spurted in dark red streams along the cold spine of the knife. And then, a length of severed intestine, pale and slick, began to spill out along with the hot flow of blood.

Linh looked down at her stomach, her eyes rolling back in sheer horror. In a state of ultimate panic, she used her trembling, blood-soaked hands to clutch the wound, trying to press her parts back inside. But the cruel truth was that the tighter she squeezed, the more the pressure increased, forcing her fragile internal organs to compress and spill out even more through her fingers.

The Final Three Minutes

As the chill of death began to crawl up from her fingertips, Linh felt a sense of total helplessness. She wanted to call her mother’s name, to say she was terrified, but only a meaningless wheezing sound escaped her blood-filled throat. From the corner of her clouded eyes, a hot tear rolled down, carrying all the resentment and regret for a vibrant youth extinguished by bottomless greed.

The final three minutes passed in an absolute torture of body and soul. The hot blood no longer had an exit through the wound, which was now blocked by the darkening, protruding organs; instead, it flowed backward, filling her abdominal cavity and crushing her lungs and heart. Suffocation began to throttle her consciousness along with a silent curse: “He must pay… I don’t want to close my eyes… I must see the face of this murderer…”

A violent convulsion seized her, and thick, dark red blood overflowed from the corners of her mouth, carrying the heavy scent of iron and her final breath. After a few last choking gasps, Linh’s body went still, stretching out on the sofa. In the descending darkness, the last thing she felt was a surge of profound bitterness. Her eyes could not close; they remained wide open, freezing the moment her life was cruelly stolen away.