My wife, Alayna Watson, is childish as ever even though we've been married for eight years. From time to time, she'll use her prank toys on me just to trick me. Oftentimes, I just toss the toys into the store without thinking much about them.

A few days later, when I'm cleaning the house, I suddenly remember the box that Alayna has pranked me with, so I decide to throw it away.

When I open the lid, I smell a foul odor wafting from within the box. A severed arm lies quietly there.

I slump to the floor instantly out of alarm and shock. With trembling fingers, I manage to call 911.

When the DNA results are out, the police officer shows a weird and conflicted expression.

"Sir, the DNA we've extracted from this arm… belongs to Alayna Watson."”

My name was Charlie Collins. I had been married for eight years and had always worked from home as a freelancer.

I rarely went out, mostly relying on online design gigs to bring in an income. My wife, Alayna Watson, was pretty much my only connection to the outside world.

But my life was far from boring. Alayna was a master at surprises.

Right before her latest business trip, she meticulously planned a date night and prepared a gift for me.

I peeked inside the box and rolled my eyes. "More of your pranks? Aren't you a little too old for this?"

She grinned and leaned in to plant a kiss on my cheek. "You're never too old for fun."

I didn't pull away, letting her wrap her arms around me.

One thing led to another, and we tumbled from the living room couch all the way to the bedroom.

After all these years of marriage, the fact that we were still so crazy about each other was largely thanks to her playful streak.

If she ever stopped acting like this, I'd probably think something was wrong.

Just as Alayna pulled off her top, my eyes caught a scratch on her arm. The raw streak of red looked fresh, like a recent fingernail scratch.

I grabbed her arm. "What happened here? Got a guy on the side or something?"

She glanced down, casually traced it, and held me in her arms to soothe me. "It's just a scratch. Instead of worrying about me, you're making wild accusations."

Then she buried her face in my chest, whining playfully.

I laughed and said she was playing dirty, but my hand instinctively wandered back to the scratch.

The moment my fingertips brushed against it, it still felt off. Before I could dwell on it, though, she pinned me to the mattress.

When I opened my eyes again, the sun was already up. A sticky note was plastered to the headboard. "Off on my trip. Don't forget to miss me. I'll be back in a couple of days."

Still groggy, I picked up her clothes scattered by the bed and tossed them into the washing machine.

Just then, something hard pressed into my palm.

It was a button. A men's dress shirt button.

I smiled, not thinking much of it.

Alayna had a habit of pocketing loose buttons from my shirts, claiming she was saving them to sew back on, only to completely forget about them.

This was probably just one of those old strays.

For the next few days, I had the house to myself.

Since I didn't have a regular office job, my routine became incredibly lax and messy.

Within days, the place had devolved into a total disaster zone.

Usually, Alayna handled the bulk of the housework while I just lent a hand here and there, never really worrying about it.

But with her gone, I couldn't just let the mess pile up forever.

With a sigh, I finally started tidying up.

The moment I pushed open the storage room door, a pungent, nauseating odor hit me square in the face. It was far heavier than the typical musty smell of a damp closet on a rainy day.

Frowning, I backed out, grabbed a can of air freshener, and sprayed it aggressively throughout the room.

But when the artificial fragrance masked the stench, it only made the odor weirder.

The two scents mingled together, making me gag.

Holding my breath, I stepped back inside, determined to find the source of the smell.

After only a couple of steps in, my foot suddenly slipped.

I looked down and saw a pool of dark brown liquid oozing from a corner. It was coming from the box Alayna had brought home.

My immediate thought was that some fake blood from one of her prank props had leaked.

Shaking my head at the mess, I reached down and picked it up. But the second I lifted the lid, I froze completely.

It was a severed hand.

Cleanly cut at the wrist, the flesh had turned a bruised, blackish-purple, and fluid was oozing from the edges.

It looked like maggots were already writhing around the wound. The horrific stench and the dark fluid were all coming from this.

My mind went totally blank, and with a sharp scream, I hurled the box away.

The thing rolled out onto the floor, giving me a much clearer view.

It belonged to a woman. A ring was clutched on its ring finger, and the knuckles were frozen in a horrific curl, as if it had been hacked off while the person was still alive.

My immediate instinct was to find Alayna. With trembling fingers, I scrambled for my phone and dialed her number.

Once. Twice. Three times.

No one answered.

The repetitive ringing echoed through the empty house, making the surrounding silence feel deafening.

My heart was hammering so hard it felt like it would burst out of my throat.

Crying, I kept redialing the number. "Alayna, pick up… Come on…"

Until finally, the automated operator cut in. "The number you have dialed is switched off."

The sudden realization jolted me back to reality, forcing a shred of logic back into my panicked mind.

I stared fixedly at the severed hand as a million terrifying thoughts raced through my head.

The rot, maggots, and blackened flesh proved that this was absolutely not a prop.

Taking a ragged breath, I gave up on Alayna's phone and moved my finger to the dial pad, punching in 911.

The moment the call connected, I tried my best to steady my breathing, but my throat was so tight it throbbed with pain.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I need to report something! I think… the prank prop I have at home is a real human hand…"

The second the words left my mouth, I realized just how terrified I actually was.

My voice shook violently, and my tongue felt knotted. It took me several minutes just to make myself understood.

The dispatcher on the other end remained completely calm, instructing me to stay exactly where I was and not to touch a single thing. "Officers are already on their way to your location. Please keep the line open."

When the call ended, the house plunged back into a deathly stillness. This silence was far harder to endure than before.

It took me a long time just to gather the strength to crawl up from the floor, but my gaze kept darting toward the storage room.

I was terrified that something else might crawl out of the dark at any second.

To keep from losing my mind, I forced myself to stare blankly at a tissue box on the coffee table.

Every ticking second felt like an eternity.

If it weren't for this nightmare, I would be happily counting down the hours until Alayna came home. But now, my mind was consumed by suspicion and dread.

Finally, the doorbell rang. I flinched, my scattered thoughts instantly snapping back.

"Police, open up."

My legs were pure jelly as I rushed over to unlock the door.

Two uniformed officers, a man and a woman, stepped inside looking weary from the road.

The male officer, who looked fairly young, scanned the living room before addressing me in a gentle tone. "You're the caller, Mr. Charlie Collins, correct?"

I nodded frantically and stepped aside to let them in.

The female officer was already snapping on a pair of latex gloves, asking me where the object was.

"Over there." I pointed toward the storage room, my voice still cracking.

She walked over. The moment her eyes fell on the severed hand, her entire posture stiffened.

As she kneeled down to inspect it, the male officer tried to soothe me. "Try not to panic. You mentioned it's a prank prop. I know some of these items are made to look and smell incredibly realistic these days. We've dealt with false alarms like this before…"

But any hope of comfort was instantly shattered.

"It's not a toy," the female officer called out. "I can confirm this is a real human hand."

Her definitive words sent a violent chill running straight down my spine.

The female officer pulled out an evidence bag, carefully sealing the box and the severed limb into separate compartments.

Then, she turned her gaze back to me. My face was completely devoid of color.

"You haven't touched it, have you?" she asked.

"N-No!" I stammered, my voice shaking. "I called 911 the moment I realized something was wrong."

She nodded before turning to whisper a few instructions to her partner. The male officer nodded in understanding and ushered me to the side, while she stepped away to radio for backup and forensic teams.

"Take it easy," the male officer said. "Just tell me what happened from the beginning."

I took a shaky breath and walked him through the timeline and how I had stumbled upon the gruesome discovery.

As he listened to my fragmented explanation, his expression grew increasingly serious. "So, you're saying your wife brought this box home… on April Fool's Day?"

"Yes. She loves pranking me. She'd never miss an opportunity like that."

"And when did she leave for her business trip?"

"The day after April Fool's Day," I replied.

The two officers exchanged a quick look.

In that fraction of a second, my stomach plummeted, and a dreadful premonition twisted in my gut. "Is something wrong?"

The male officer didn't give me a straight answer. Instead, he asked me to point out every single spot where the box had been kept.

They took reference photos and strictly instructed me not to clean any other part of the house.

While they were working, the female officer took a call. She kept her voice incredibly low, but a few stray words still managed to drift over to me.

"...Surveillance… nobody… still haven't reached her…"

When she hung up, her face was visibly tenser than before.

"Charlie," she suddenly called me by my name. "Are you absolutely certain this box was brought into the house on April 1st?"

I froze for a moment and instinctively replied, "Yes, of course. She brought it home that evening. I even called her childish for it."

The male officer closed his notepad and looked at me intently. "Our colleagues just reviewed your neighborhood's security footage. The cameras show that absolutely no one entered your apartment on April 1st."

My brain went completely numb. "That's impossible! Alayna comes home every single day. How could the cameras not catch her? And she always brings home groceries for the next day's meals! All the vendors downstairs know that!"

Midway through my outburst, I realized something was off myself.

If Alayna hadn't come home, then who was the person who had spent the entire night with me?

The moment that thought crystallized, a violent jolt of terror shot through my body.

"No… No, that's impossible…" I began pacing back and forth, babbling incoherently. My nails dug frantically into the back of my hand, tearing the skin, but I didn't even feel the pain.

The two officers exchanged a subtle, wary glance.

The male officer stepped forward and gently caught my hands. "Hey, calm down. We're not saying we don't believe you. We've already dispatched a team to track down your wife. Right now, the priority is figuring out—"

The mention of Alayna sent my panic into overdrive. I gripped his hand tightly. "I called her so many times! She wouldn't answer! Then her phone went completely dead! Is my wife the killer—"

"Mr. Collins," the female officer interrupted firmly. "You need to calm down."

"How can I calm down? Where is the person that hand belongs to? Is she still alive? Was she murdered? Am I next?"

Overwhelmed, I sank to the floor, burying my head in my arms as my whole body convulsed with tremors.

Just then, the male officer held out a phone to me. A call was active on the screen.

I recognized the number instantly. It was Alayna.

From the speaker, a familiar voice drifted out. "Honey? I'm on my business trip. I've been stuck in back-to-back meetings all day. Don't be scared. The officer already explained everything to me…"