Too Late For Regret, Mr. Hayes

Name: Too Late For Regret, Mr. Hayes
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Gavin

Short stories | Completed

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The screech of tires was my familiar lullaby, echoing another broken bone, another shattered illusion. I was Sarah, the trophy wife, trapped in a gilded cage, enduring a curse of endless resurrections. My husband, Ethan, always attentive to his perfect Ashley, had just shoved me into the path of a speeding sedan. For her, of course. He didn't care that I lay mangled on the asphalt, only annoyed by the inconvenience, the mess. Ashley, his scheming mistress, later set a trap: a near-fatal allergic reaction, and then framed me to ensure my "dissection" at a remote research facility. They believed they were finally ridding themselves of me, sending me to a permanent end. But what they didn't know was my secret, my bitter hope: 99 deaths down, one to go. Each resurrection had chipped away at my soul, leaving only a hollow anticipation for the final, permanent end. This was it. The hundredth. The profound relief of true oblivion, of peace, washed over me as they led me away. I was finally free, not knowing that my truest liberation would come not from the permanent death I craved, but from a rebirth I never expected.

Betrayal Revenge Multiple identities Rebirth/Reborn Twist

Chapter 10

06-21 14:39

Introduction

The screech of tires was my familiar lullaby, echoing another broken bone, another shattered illusion.

I was Sarah, the trophy wife, trapped in a gilded cage, enduring a curse of endless resurrections.

My husband, Ethan, always attentive to his perfect Ashley, had just shoved me into the path of a speeding sedan.

For her, of course.

He didn't care that I lay mangled on the asphalt, only annoyed by the inconvenience, the mess.

Ashley, his scheming mistress, later set a trap: a near-fatal allergic reaction, and then framed me to ensure my "dissection" at a remote research facility.

They believed they were finally ridding themselves of me, sending me to a permanent end.

But what they didn't know was my secret, my bitter hope: 99 deaths down, one to go.

Each resurrection had chipped away at my soul, leaving only a hollow anticipation for the final, permanent end.

This was it. The hundredth.

The profound relief of true oblivion, of peace, washed over me as they led me away.

I was finally free, not knowing that my truest liberation would come not from the permanent death I craved, but from a rebirth I never expected.