The Countdown to My Death

Three years into this transmigration, I discovered a helicopter in the mansion courtyard. My husband, Mr. Arthur Stone, looking at my crippled leg, finally dropped the act: Three years ago, you couldn't accept me marrying Annabelle; you became my mistress. So we tricked you into 'transmigrating,' keeping you confined here. After three years as a servant and a concubine, you've finally learned your lesson.

I was incredulous. Beside me, the butler peeled off his prosthetic face, revealing my own brother, Timmy. "Sis, now that Annabelle has safely given birth, you can go back." "Julian, your plan was flawless!" I slowly turned my head. The manor's physician looked at me, smiling. "You weren't mistaken. I am indeed Julian Evans, your childhood sweetheart." "We set up this whole charade, fearing you'd bully Annabelle."

Forced "transmigration" for three years. Beatings, being sold, abused by countless strangers, then bought by Arthur Stone as a slave and concubine. I was crippled in both legs, blind in one eye. From crying day and night, desperate to go home, to living a numb and subservient existence. It turned out I had never transmigrated at all. I completely broke down. The moment before I attempted suicide, a bizarre line of text suddenly appeared before my eyes:

"Congratulations to the AI 'Abuse Romance' heroine on awakening. Countdown to human reincarnation: Two days."

"48:00:00"

"47:59:59"

I remained silent on the helicopter ride back. According to the strange text's instructions, I had to continue living numbly and obediently for two more days, then die. It said it would grant me a second life. This wasn't difficult at all. All I had endured until now was merely a difference of two days before my death.

The moment I stepped off the helicopter, a slender figure blocked the cabin door. Annabelle Bright, the impostor, scrutinized me from head to toe. "You're back?" "Let me tell you, Arthur and the others only agreed to take you back because you've been so docile these past three years. If you dare to bully me again like you did three years ago, I'll have them gouge out your other eye too!"

Honestly, I couldn't recall ever bullying Annabelle. But it didn't matter anymore. For three years, if I dared to talk back, the next moment, it might be a maids slap or a whip lashing my body. I had long learned my lesson.

Seeing my prolonged silence, Arthur Stone, who was pushing my wheelchair, tapped it lightly, a threatening gesture. "Willow, Annabelle is talking to you." "You're already disobedient the moment you're back. Do you want us to send you back to 'transmigration' to learn your manners again?"

I flinched, a shiver running through me, and quickly bowed my head, replying, "Yes, I will serve you and the Young Master well." Annabelle snorted, seemingly satisfied with my answer. "At least you're sensible." "Let's eat; I've had the servants prepare everything."

Arthur smiled contentedly, reaching out to stroke my head. I instinctively closed my eyes, cowering, as if fearing a blow. Seeing how afraid I was of him, Arthur's gaze darkened. He deliberately softened his tone: "Don't be afraid. I won't punish you anymore." "I love you. I would never hurt you. Willow, from now on, you'll be my Mrs. Stone again, just like before."

I quickly shook my head, forcing a placating smile. "I wouldn't dare. I'm just a concubine." "I'll be very well-behaved."

Arthur's smile froze at the corners of his mouth, speechless for a moment. He looked at me with a complex and conflicted expression. "Willow, you don't have to be afraid of me." "Never mind... no rush, we have plenty of time."

At the dining table, the clinking of cutlery was sharp. Julian, across from me, noticed I hadn't touched my food and proactively offered me the steak he had cut. "Why aren't you eating? Did you forget how to use a knife and fork?" "Have mine; I've cut it for you." I still dared not move. I just buried my head even lower and replied, "The maids taught me that my status is lowly; I don't deserve proper meals." "You all eat first; I'll have the leftovers."

Julian froze. He exchanged a glance with Arthur. Arthur, in turn, gently reassured me. "Willow, listen. You're back now, so those old rules don't apply. As long as you're well-behaved, we'll treat you well, just like before." "Eat." I quickly lifted my head, then lowered it again. Still, I dared not.

It was my brother, Timmy, who looked thoughtful, and cautiously said, "Sis, Arthur wants you to eat. That's the rule now." Only then did I raise my head again, trembling as I brought food to my mouth. I ate very slowly, and very little. The arm holding the fork swayed emptily within my sleeve. These past few months, I had indeed become excessively thin.

The atmosphere at the dining table suddenly grew heavy. Only Annabelle was still enthusiastically chatting about her son, Leo. Arthur and the others listened quietly, clearly distracted. After only two bites, I stopped. Suppressing the rising nausea in my throat, I looked at Arthur: "I... I think I'm pregnant."

The news was met with silence, the three present not yet having time to express surprise. I continued, numbly: "Could you please... grant me a bowl of abortion medicine?" "Or take me for an abortion."

Arthurs face completely froze, staring at me in disbelief. I didn't understand his reaction. I could only turn to Julian across from me. He used to be the manor's physician; he could decide such matters.

"I'm very well-behaved. I just ate the steak you cut for me."

"This time, I'd like some... pain medication, if that's possible?"

Julian's face was as white as paper, but he still didn't respond to me. Only my brother, Timmy, forced himself to remain calm and asked, "Sis, what are you saying?" "Having a child is a good thing. Just give birth and raise it; it's not like..." I shook my head, my tone firm. "You're mistaken." "If there's a child, it must be terminated. That's the rule." "This would be the fourth one."

Arthur's expression turned completely grim. He threw down his cutlery, grabbed Julian by the collar, and dragged him away. "Come with me." He slammed the study door shut, Julian following him inside. The soundproofing in the mansion was excellent; only some muffled voices faintly drifted out, sounding like an argument. I felt very uneasy. I could only look blankly at my brother, pursing my lips, and continued, "I think I did something wrong." "Will the maid come and beat me?"

My brother's hand, holding the fork, trembled. He felt as if his chest was stuffed with damp cotton. Seeing my current cautious demeanor, he found it hard to breathe. He stood up, pushing my wheelchair, and comforted me, "Sis, no one will ever hit you again." "You've been very good. I still prefer you as you were before. Smiling, getting angry, calling me Timmy by my full name, even pulling my ears. Don't be like this... please?" But I merely lowered my head again, my voice weak. "That's presumption. I'll get beaten." "It's my fault. I won't ask for pain medication anymore."

My brother frowned, saying nothing further. He simply pushed my wheelchair away. Only Annabelle was left at the dining table. After three years apart, she had intended to torture me again. She hadn't expected me to become like this. Everyone seemed so heartbroken for me. She angrily threw down her cutlery and instructed the maid behind her, "Go fetch the young master immediately." "If that little wretch's child is actually born, that would be disastrous!"

My brother pushed me to the guest bedroom on the first floor. The room was so large, I felt a little uncomfortable; it was overly luxurious. I touched the soft duvet, then looked up at my brother. "Is the storage room occupied? I can move there." "This place is too nice; it's not suitable for me. And there's no clock here; I need to wake up early to pay my respects and prepare breakfast." I didn't know which words I had spoken incorrectly this time. My brother's eyes suddenly reddened. He crouched before me, speaking softly, "Sis, don't say anything more. Please don't say anything..." "You won't stay in the storage room anymore. We're family. I'll treat you well from now on."

I didn't believe him. During those three years, my brother, then the butler, had said similar things once, but that very night, a maid had burst into my bedroom and whipped me half to death. But I dared not directly contradict him now, so I only nodded blankly. Seeing my acceptance, he finally managed a smile. He left me with two maids to assist with my washing and rest.

Fortunately, even without a clock, that eerie string of numbers helped me roughly gauge the time:

"35:48:21"

"35:48:20"

The seconds ticked by, so slowly. I wanted to die quickly. At three in the morning, the study door finally opened slowly. Arthur and Julian both had injuries on their faces, clearly having fought. Arthur glanced sideways at Julian. "I trust you wouldn't be so cruel." "To let Willow suffer three miscarriages in a row." "I'll investigate the staff in the manor. You investigate how those medications were swapped for abortion pills." Julian nodded at this.

As he passed the kitchen, Arthur noticed the light was on, casting a blurred figure. From a distance, it looked like me. I stood there, eyes calm, raising a knife and stabbing myself. Arthur's hair instantly stood on end. He shouted, "No!" and rushed towards me, grabbing the hand holding the knife. Julian, not far away, heard the commotion and also hurried over, disarming me. Arthur stared at me, asking in horror, "Willow, are you insane?" "Why are you trying to kill yourself?"

I blinked twice, my gaze shifting to the pumpkin smashed on the floor. I smiled ingratiatingly at Arthur. "You misunderstood." "It's time. I was just making your breakfast porridge." "Don't worry, a knife to the abdomen like this won't kill me." Arthur was horrified by my words. Just as he was about to ask something else, he heard Julian call him: "Arthur..."

Arthur turned his head to look. When Julian disarmed me, he brushed against my sleeve. My bare inner arm was covered in various hideous scars, one after another. Some even showed signs of being cut deeply with great force. All were self-inflicted wounds.

Facing their panicked stares, I apologized with a smile: "Did I disturb you?" "I'm sorry, I'll be quieter." Arthur and Julian exchanged a look but didn't respond. They simply instructed a maid to escort me back to my room and ensure I rested properly.

The next morning, Arthur woke me up. He seemed to have been awake all night, with heavy dark circles under his eyes and an unusually somber expression: "Willow, I'm taking you to the private hospital on the fifth floor of the manor." "Julian has brought a professional team; we're going to give you a full check-up."

I was obedient, following Julian. I underwent examination after examination. Blood tests, ultrasounds, CT scans. The doctors meticulously examined and photographed the shocking scars on my body. A gentle-faced female doctor sat opposite me, asking me questions in an extremely soft voice about my sleep, appetite, emotions, and those scars. I was very compliant. I answered when I could and apologized when I couldn't. The maids always said that kneeling to apologize showed more sincerity. It was just a pity my legs were crippled, so I couldn't kneel.

After the examination, the three of them sat around, looking at my reports. I didn't know what was written inside, only that their faces grew increasingly grim. Until the number before me reached "25:18:03". Arthur finally put down the report and walked towards me. His voice was very soft, as if afraid of startling me: "Willow, the doctor says you're very weak and need to recuperate." "Those wounds... the doctors have seen them too. They're severe and will require time and patient treatment. Don't be afraid. Here, no one will ever hurt you again." "I'll bring in the best doctors and use the best medicine to help you recover and heal all of this."

I pointed at him. Instinctively, I wanted to say, "Here, you will hurt me." But Arthur clearly misunderstood my meaning. He took my fingertips and gathered them into his embrace. "Don't be afraid." "Willow, we won't hurt you." Listening to him, I found it absurd and strange. All those three years, those days and nights worse than death. Weren't you all hurting me together?

When we returned to the living room, Annabelle had, at some point, brought Leo back. She had evidently heard something about me. She embraced Leo and placed him in my arms, reassuring me, "Willow, you seem to be feeling down lately." "Here, let Leo cheer you up. Children are the most spirited; looking at them always lifts your mood. You're pregnant now; you'll have your own child soon."

I looked at Annabelle's smiling face, a stark contrast to the arrogant woman who had blocked the cabin door earlier. Had she also transmigrated? Quickly, I dismissed the idea. Arthur and the others wouldn't let that happen. And, Leo was pinching me. Children don't know their own strength; he probably got the idea from Annabelle. He sweetly called out, "Auntie, hug!" while fiercely pinching me with his hand. His fingernails had been deliberately trimmed, sharp and quick. With even slight pressure, it felt no different than a small knife slicing flesh. Blow after blow, the sharp pain was more than my body could bear. I could feel the wounds already starting to bleed. I could only try to return the child to Annabelle. "I'm not well; I'm afraid I might drop him." "You should hold him."

Annabelle nodded, her tone still soft. "Right, you're still weak; you should rest more." "Come, Mommy will hold you." Just as she was about to take him, her hand slipped, and Leo fell straight to the ground. Before I could react, the child's ear-splitting cries erupted.

Slap!

Annabelle slapped me across the face, screaming, "Willow, why did you drop my child!"

I was thrown from my wheelchair onto the floor. I lay there, helplessly watching Annabelle scream at me: "I know you hate me, despise me, for taking your childhood sweetheart, your brother, and even your lover." "But the child is innocent!" "How old is he? Can he withstand a fall like that? How could you be so cruel, how could you lay a hand on him?!"

At that moment, Arthur, Julian, and Timmy, hearing the commotion, rushed in from different directions. Arthur's face was ashen. He lunged forward, first crouching to quickly check on Leo, then suddenly looked up, his hateful eyes fixed on me. He roared at me, "Willow Hayes, what have you done!" "You just got back and you're already causing trouble. Do you want me to send you back?" My brother also rushed over, looking at his nephew crying heartbreakingly on the floor and Annabelle's relentless accusations against me. Then he looked at me, his eyes also filled with anger: "Sis, how could you lay a hand on such a small child!" Julian handed Leo to the medical staff behind him. He said nothing, just kept glaring at me with a fierce, cold gaze.

I felt like... I had been wronged again. It felt no different from the countless times I had been wronged over the past three years. The maid accused me of stealing; I denied it, only to receive a harsher lashing. The servant girl framed me for seducing the stable boy; I argued, and the result was being stripped and publicly humiliated. Arthur believed slander that I wanted to escape; what awaited me was being locked in a water dungeon.

I wanted to explain. I wanted to say it wasn't true, I wanted to say I didn't do it, I wanted to say so many things. But I remained silent because no one would believe me. Like countless times before, defending myself would only invite more viciousness and punishment. I could only huddle on the floor, helplessly apologizing, "I'm sorry..."

Annabelle charged forward. "Sorry? Just 'sorry' and it's over?" "I'll beat you to death, you slut!" Then, she began to punch and kick me repeatedly. The three men watched silently. Someone said, "Don't touch her stomach; there's a child there." And then there was no more sound. No one stopped her; they just stood by, as before.

Fists and feet rained down on my body and face, blow after blow. It hurt terribly. A pain so intense my entire body felt like it was exploding. In a daze, I saw the numbers before me plummeting drastically:

"24:27:43"

"20:13:05"

"15:39:17"

...

Until someone eventually pulled Annabelle away, and she stopped. The time halted at "4:01:25".

Arthur slowly walked up to me, looking down. "Do you understand your mistake?" "Why do you always refuse to learn?" I choked on the blood in my throat, coughing twice. I didn't answer. I just clutched Arthur's pant leg, asking him one last question: "Didn't you say... here, no one would ever hurt me again?"

Arthur fell silent. He coldly moved his leg, pulling his pant leg from my grasp, and said, "But you made a mistake, and mistakes deserve punishment. That's the rule." "Lock her in the storage room." "When Leo is checked and confirmed to be fine, I'll let you out."

But I didn't want to be locked up again. I had been confined for three years; I didn't want the last four hours of my life to be spent caged like an animal. I wanted to beg further, but Arthur had already turned his back. I could only look at my brother, Timmy, who averted his gaze, quietly comforting the agitated Annabelle. Julian had already hurried away to check on Leo.

As expected, no one was willing to save me. I no longer struggled. I allowed the maids to drag me away, roughly throwing me onto the floor of the storage room. Counting heartbeats, watching the time tick away. I didn't know what would happen when everything reset to zero. But for me now, the worst thing was death. That would be a release.

"00:00:00"

The numbers zeroed out. I closed my eyes, my heartbeat gone. A large, dark red stain of blood quietly spread beneath me.

The maid came in to deliver food half an hour later. A moment later, a terrified scream echoed throughout the entire manor. The maid practically stumbled and crawled to Arthur, shrieking: "Ah" "Someone's dead!" "Miss Willow is dead; there's blood everywhere!"