The Mute Bride's Dead Groom Came Back To Life

When Katherine Evans was dragged out of the trunk, her once-pristine white wedding gown was already torn into a ragged mess.

Rain poured from the sky without mercy. She sank to her knees, her body soaked through as the relentless storm raged on above her.

In front of her stood the funeral home, surrounded by darkness and an unsettling silence.

A moment later, footsteps approached from behind. Under the cover of a black umbrella, her half-sister Hayley Evans slowly made her way over. She looked down at Katherine kneeling in the rain, a faint, mocking smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Katherine, just look at yourself. You really do look like a bride," she scoffed disdainfully.

Katherine kept her head lowered, her drenched hair hanging in heavy strands across her face, hiding most of her features.

Dropping into a crouch, Hayley seized her chin and forced her to look up at her.

"What? You're not going to say anything?" Hayley leaned closer, a cruel chuckle escaping her lips. "Sorry. I forgot. You're mute."

She released Katherine's face and rose to her feet. "The Dales are looking for a living bride to be buried alongside Wyatt Dale. I'd never throw my life away for that."

Hayley's lips curled into a wicked smile, a vicious gleam flashing in her eyes. "But you're not like me. Dad never cared about you anyway. You're nothing but a burden wasting air. At least now your life can give the Evans family something in return. Isn't that a good deal?"

Katherine refused to give her even the slightest response.

Hayley soon grew bored waiting for a reaction. With a look of disdain, she turned away-only to swing her foot forward a second later and slam it into Katherine's chest.

The impact sent Katherine rolling down the steps, crashing onto her back. Still, she didn't even flinch.

"Take her inside," Hayley commanded sharply.

At once, two men dressed in black stepped forward. They seized Katherine by both arms and dragged her toward a building without giving her a chance to resist.

A coffin rested in the center of the hall. Surrounding it were extravagant bouquets and arrangements from the mourners, every piece seemingly priceless.

Inside the coffin lay a young man.

The bodyguards grabbed Katherine and threw her in beside him before slamming the lid shut.

Hayley's final words slipped through the coffin's cracks. "Rest in peace, Katherine."

A moment later, the sharp pounding of nails echoed through the coffin as the lid was sealed closed.

Katherine remained perfectly still in the suffocating darkness.

Only after the footsteps outside had completely disappeared did she slowly open her eyes.

Even in the pitch-black coffin, her gaze held a piercing clarity.

She slowly turned her head and reached out, her fingertips finding the side of the man's neck.

His skin was cold-almost unnaturally so.

But then, out of nowhere, she felt a pulse, weak and faint yet undeniably present.

The slightest curve appeared at the edge of Katherine's mouth.

With her free hand, she reached beneath the inner lining of her wedding gown, where a concealed pocket had been carefully stitched into the fabric.

The zipper slid open silently, and her fingers closed around the syringe and a small vial tucked inside.

Even without sight, she drew the medication into the syringe, then gave it a quick flick to clear out the air bubbles.

Every movement was steady, as if she had repeated the process countless times before.

In fact, she had, only never with someone who was still alive.

Katherine turned onto her side, planting one knee firmly against the coffin wall to steady herself. Her left hand moved across the man's chest, searching through the layers of clothing until she located the artery closest to his heart.

Hidden in the darkness, a faint smile slowly appeared on her lips.

Under her breath, she murmured, "Well, aren't you lucky? I haven't found a suitable test subject for my trials yet. You'll have to do."

Once the medication had been injected, she withdrew the needle and carefully stored everything away.

From the information she had pieced together, Wyatt had never truly been beyond saving. She had taken a gamble-that if she could get close enough, she could pull him back from the edge. And she had been right.

But before she could even process her victory, a hand shot out without warning and locked around her throat.

The force behind it was brutal.

Katherine's breath vanished in an instant. She fought back on instinct, twisting and kicking with all her strength, but every attempt at resistance was useless in the cramped space.

Her vision blurred as the pressure tightened, her lungs burning as the last traces of air were forced out of them.

"Trying to get yourself killed?" A deep, rough voice broke through the darkness.

The moment the words fell, the hand around Katherine's neck tightened even further.

He had only just awakened. His voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper, yet the threat behind it sent a chill crawling through the darkness.

Then, all at once, frantic voices erupted from outside the coffin. "There's movement inside. That's Mr. Dale's voice. Hurry! Open it!"

A thunderous bang echoed through the room as the heavy lid was ripped away. Light and fresh air poured into the suffocating space.

The bodyguards froze the moment they saw what was inside.

Wyatt, a man everyone believed had already crossed into death, was awake.

One hand gripped the edge of the coffin for support, while the other remained locked tightly around the throat of the bride who had been sent to be buried alongside him.

His face was drained of color, but his eyes burned with a terrifying, savage fury.

"Mr. Dale really came back to life?" gasped one of the bodyguards.

They surged forward, reaching into the coffin and carefully pulling Wyatt out.

Wyatt knocked their hands away and staggered slightly as he steadied himself.

His cold, dangerous eyes locked onto the woman still inside the coffin.

Only moments earlier, while trapped in that darkness, he had felt a sharp sting against his chest.

Something had been injected into his body-something that had pulled him back from the edge of death itself.

Could it have been this woman?

Katherine was climbing out of the coffin.

Her wedding dress was drenched and stained with mud, her head lowered as she moved.

Her soaked hair clung to her face, completely concealing her expression.

She looked fragile and miserable.

Within three minutes, the news that Wyatt had returned from the dead had reached every one of the Dale family.

The entire funeral home erupted into chaos.

Before Wyatt even had the chance to demand an explanation, a sorrowful cry tore through the air outside the building.

"Wyatt!"

The desperate voice echoed through the hall. A graceful figure rushed inside, forcing her way past the bodyguards who attempted to block her path.