My grandfather, Terry Sims, suffered from bipolar disorder and was prone to anger and mood swings. My mother, Catherine, was his only chill pill.

On the day they were hunted down by enemies, my mom went into early labor and lost her life in an attempt to save him.

Devastated, my grandfather could not see a way out of his disorder and poured all his love into me.

He would pull out the tongues of those who mocked me and fed them to the dogs. The families of those who hurt me would meet their end.

It was known to the people of Mistvale that the granddaughter of Terry Sims was untouchable.

Due to my congenital heart disease, he reluctantly sent me abroad for medical treatment.

After my surgery, I rushed back to his side for his birthday, thinking of giving him a surprise.

However, I was mistaken for a gold digger by a carer and locked in the basement.

“Of all the things you can do for your age, you throw yourself at men. Since your parents won’t restrain your behavior, I’ll have to do it for them.”

She pulled out my tongue, dumped acid all over me, and dug out my snewly transplanted heart to give as a birthday gift to my grandfather, who had been waiting for my return.

“Mr. Sims, the skank tried to impersonate Ms. Sims, but I got everything sorted out for you.”

…

I lay on a sewage-soaked concrete floor, my body mangled and battered from torture.

Flies buzzed above me. The rats squeaked as they feasted on my flesh.

I wept tears of despair as my life slipped away with each ticking moment.

Just hours ago, I got off the plane in anticipation and took a deep breath of fresh air. Yet now, I found myself killed and tortured in the cold, damp, tiny basement.

Today was my grandfather’s birthday.

For his surprise, I spent hours on my knees in the cathedral, offering prayers for his well-being. I even had a crucifix blessed by the pope.

I slipped back into the city ahead of time, eager to give him the best birthday gift when he saw me.

Then, I met that woman.

She was Terry’s carer, Rachel Grimlock.

Terry often brought her up in our phone conversations, complimenting her efficiency, diligence, and integrity. Unlike those women who were after his money, Rachel was discreet and decent.

Rachel was the longest-serving caregiver Terry had.

For that reason, I was grateful to her. With my parents gone and my health issues, Terry could use a bit of help at his age.

Rachel saw me and approached me; the other household staff were in tow.

Thinking she had recognized who I was, I handed my suitcases to her.

Instead, I was welcomed with a slap on the face.

“Ah!”

As I was frail and recovering from a recent surgery, the blow made me see stars, and I staggered to the ground.

Rachel sized me up menacingly.

“You must be the vixen hitting on Mr. Sims.”

She smacked me to the ground. “Don’t try to play the weak damsel. Your little act doesn’t fool me.”

Pulling myself together, I stared at the household staff helplessly.

“What are you talking about? I’m not a vixen.”

Rachel scoffed and looked at me as if I was a dummy.

“Can’t you come up with something new? It’s the same trick in the playbook.”

She clutched my chin, forcing me to meet her gaze. My tears ran down my cheeks, dripping onto Rachel’s hand.

“Don’t play innocent with me, vixen. I can see why you got Mr. Sims wrapped around your little finger. He’s always spellbound, staring at your photo.

“It’s a pity, though. It’s been three years since I cared for Mr. Sims. His money will go to me, so you better give up on that thought.”

Reality hit me.

Rachel got the wrong idea that I was hitting on my grandfather.

She had an ulterior motive, after all.

“I did not flirt—”

Rachel cut me off with a kick to my chest. The surgical stitch burst open as I dropped to the ground, crying in pain.

She made a face.

“Aren’t you quite the tease? I’m not a man. Your advances don’t affect me.”

She took out a photo, one I mailed to Terry from abroad.

The edge of the photo was tattered, proof that Terry often ran his fingers along it.

Rachel grabbed my throat and stuffed the scrunched photo into my mouth. She held my lips shut and whipped her hand across my face.

“Swallow it! Swallow it down now!”

I retched desperately, but the grip over my mouth only invoked a violent cough in me, and the crucifix dropped out of my pocket.

Rachel picked the crucifix up, her face grimacing.

“I see you learned beforehand of Mr. Sim’s beliefs.”

I reached out to grab the crucifix. “Give it back! I had it blessed for Grandpa!”

Rachel tightened her grip over my neck and looked at me in disdain. “Grandpa? Are you still keeping up with the act?

“Kneel and beg me. I might just be generous enough to return this to you.”

I sunk to the ground, gasping for air. I disregarded the gripping pain in my lungs and groveled at her feet. “Please, I beg you. Please give it back. The crucifix is important to me.”

Rachel and the other household staff member in the back took delight in my humbling. She plucked my chin with her toes. “That’s not a lot of begging. Bark for me. Since you’re such a lapdog, act like one and convince me.”

I had never been so humiliated.

Furious, I snapped a look at her.

“Grandpa will make you pay for what you’re doing to me, Rachel.”

Rachel was in stitches. It was as if she had heard the joke of the century.

“Well, show me. Show me how he is going to make me pay.”

At the wave of her arm, the other household staff members charged toward me.

“Take her to the usual spot.”

Rachel smirked at my rage and hurled the crucifix away, dumping the sacred accessory into a nearby river.

I was dragged across the floor to a basement.

The cold, damp room gave off a creepy sense of dread. A single, bare bulb on the wall was the single source of light.

They threw me to the ground, and I landed hard on my elbow, a sharp pain shooting through my arm.

“Argh!” I cried out in agony. I removed my hand from my elbow to find my palm covered in blood.

It was not a severe injury, but the bleeding was massive.

My face paled.

The grimy residue on my skin was a reminder of the horrors that had happened in the basement.

Rachel descended the steps.

I lunged forward. “I’m Chastity Sims, Terry’s granddaughter. Let me go, or face the consequences.”

Rachel paused for a minute, her eyes scanning me.

Just when I thought I had sent the right message, Rachel broke into a smile.

“Hahaha! Of all the people you impersonate, why must you mimic Ms. Sims?”

She kicked me to the side, the sturdy sole of her shoes crushing the back of my hand.

“We are only expecting Ms. Sims tonight. She’s still in Libestar right now. Do you take me for a fool?”

I was taken aback.

The plan was to give Terry a surprise. For the plan to work, I lied about the surgery being days later.

Who would’ve thought the little white lie would put an end to my life?

The household staff member behind Rachel held me in contempt. “Oh, the minx is experienced in role-playing for her age. She’s into the whole grandfather thing.”

Rachel narrowed her eyes.

“Well, I’m sure she won’t mind a bit of toys, then.”

Rachel lifted the cloth from the table in the back, revealing various torture devices.

My blood ran cold.

“No… Let me go!”

Many hands tore apart my clothes, ripping my dress to shreds. I was vulnerable to the elements.

I put up a fight. “I’m Chastity! Are you working for my family or her?”

An intrusive hand reached out and yanked my undergarment away.

“Mr. Sims trusts Rachel the most. Who do you think you are? Don’t put yourself on the same level as Rachel.”

I curled up on the floor, sobbing as fear and helplessness overwhelmed me.

One staff member exclaimed, “She has a surgical cut on her chest.

Rachel drew close and examined the cut on my chest.

I rushed back right after the surgery to make it to Terry’s birthday celebration on time.

The wound, tore open from the struggle, throbbed and bled.

“Didn’t you say that Ms. Sims just had heart surgery, Rachel? Maybe she’s—”

“Smack!” Rachel slapped the staff member.

“Idiot! No one is closer to Mr. Sims than I am. I would know if Ms. Sims is returning ahead of time.”

She looked at me with disdain.

“You sure are pulling all the stops, even faking the surgical wound.”

The crimson blood highlighted my translucent skin.

Rachel’s malicious eyes fell on me, and her jealousy reared its ugly head.

“You must have seduced Mr. Sims with your assets.”

Rachel got up and grabbed a bottle from the table of torture devices.

Fear gripped me as I realized what it could be. I crawled backward desperately but was grabbed by the hair and pulled back in place.

“In that case, I’ll destroy you. We’ll see if Mr. Sims will still be interested in you without your beautiful skin.”

I hugged myself and shouted in fear and rage, “Don’t you dare! Grandpa will make you regret it!”

Ignoring my pleas, Rachel removed the bottle cap with a smile and poured the liquid all over me.

She took her time in getting the acid on every inch of my skin.

As my skin rotted, I lost consciousness from the burning pain. However, immense agony quickly startled me awake.

Drowning in agony, I shivered uncontrollably. I could not make a sound as even the slightest touch sent a jolt of pain through me.

Rachel snickered in delight as the chemical acid burned me through and through.

“You think you’re desirable because you’re young. Well, who will want you now?!”

I let out a whimper, my consciousness barely hanging on.

“Y-You… won’t get away with it…”

Rachel grimaced. “Save me the tough talk. Do you think Mr. Sims will still like you now that you’ve become a monster?”

She grabbed a rusty knife and headed in my direction.

“I can’t stand your horny moans. Is this how you sound like in bed?”

She crouched down and squeezed my throat. I opened my mouth from the asphyxiation to breathe in air.

The next minute, a chilling blade cut into my mouth.

A sickening rip of flesh filled my ears as blood consumed my vision. I seized up like a broken machine.

I lay on the floor, barely alive and breathing.

Disgusted, Rachel kicked me.

“Tsk! I didn’t get enough out of you. Is that all you can handle?”

The household staff members in the back sucked up to Rachel. “You’re a real pro, Rachel. No wonder you’re Mr. Sim’s favorite.”

“Yeah! You have the makings of the lady of the house, Rachel. Without you, there will be countless wretched women getting into Mr. Sims’ pants.”

Rachel got carried away by the praises. “I should present this witch to Mr. Sims as a birthday gift. What do you guys think?”

The group showed their support and expressed Terry would love her ingenious gift.

I was placed in a cart, a cloth draped over me, as they wheeled me into the party venue.

Despite his graying hair, Terry was full of life, and his gaze portrayed the same.

He was filled with anticipation, his eyes darting repeatedly to his watch. I knew he was expecting me.

Rachel approached Terry with a graceful smile, and his tensed facial lines eased up at the sight of her.

“Where were you, Rachel?”

Rachel walked toward the cart with a chuckle. “I went to get you a birthday gift, Mr. Sims.”

Terry shook his head in resignation.

“That’s sweet of you. What is it? I want to see.”

Terry lifted the cloth.

My mangled body lay under the cloth.

I shook uncontrollably when I saw Terry. While my throat made raspy sounds, I could not string a word together.

The smile wiped off Terry’s face.

“Considering my faith, I don’t understand the brutality of this gift.”

Rachel looked hurt. “The minx criticized me and insulted Ms. Sims, Mr. Sims.”

Terry’s expression turned grim at the mention of my name.

I wanted so badly to explain that I was his beloved granddaughter.

However, my throat was filled with blood, and every sound I made put me in excruciating pain.

Rachel’s little sidekicks added their spin to the story. “The spiteful woman insulted Ms. Sims, calling her sickly and as good as dead.”

“Rachel might have gone a little harsh, but she was standing up for you and Ms. Sims.”

With a scowl, Terry closed his eyes, his husky voice commanding attention.

“Then she should atone for her sins.”

He opened his stoic eyes.

“But Chastity isn’t here right now. That woman can leave her heart to make it up to Chastity.”

Rachel let out a smug smile and summoned Terry’s attending doctor.

I recognized him. When I was a child, William Stein often took me to see his collection of specimens.

“Rip her heart out as a gift to Chastity.”

No one to retaliate against Terry, so William bit the bullet and cut me open to remove my heart.

I shuddered as a tear slipped across my cheek. In an attempt to call out his name, I coughed out blood.

Feeling bad, William paused after making the first slice.

“What are you doing? Can’t you handle the job?” Rachel grilled.

William was hesitant. “She has a surgical wound across her chest, Mr. Sims.”

Thinking of me, Terry paused and came over for a look.

However, Rachel came in his way.

“I cut her. Don’t look, Mr. Sims. She’s nasty.”

I looked at Terry hopefully, my mind hazy.

Still, he stood there, frozen.

I passed out.

My soul hovered in the air, and I watched as my heart was ripped out of my chest and placed into a jar.

Terry once picked out the little bracket attached to my heart.

He was shocked.

Rachel held Terry’s arm with a bright smile. “Can you tell who she is, Mr. Sims? She’s the hussy you’ve been looking for!”