[ Minutes before the present time ]
"I'm going to kill that damned bastard," Marsella grumbled through her gritted teeth, barely able to put up a space between the soil and her face. Abel buried her with an open coffin, and she had suffocated to death thrice!
Yes, thrice! Did he have any idea of the consequences of each of her deaths?
"Heh. Let's just kill them all," Marsella suddenly added, but with a different mocking tone.
"Shut up, will you!?" she yelled at herself, or at the other tenant of this body. "This is all your fault. If you didn't provoke him or if you behaved — ugh! Forget it! I'm going to kill you someday and have tons of sex with my handsome husband."
Marsella frowned as she stared at the soil inches over her face. Sadness and longing filled one eye, but the other eye rolled.
"Just choose between my family," Marsella told herself. "They will gladly bed you."
