BURIED ALIVE

Angela's heart raced faster as she waited in the dark mansion's foyer, her senses heightened by the eerie silence. Her mission was clear: to kill a man. As she clutched her bag containing a deadly weapon, she couldn't help but feel the blood drain from her face. She was here to put an end to someone's life.

A handmaid approached her, but Angela could see the fear in her trembling hands and hesitant smile. She wondered what could have possibly caused such terror in the woman. Was she aware of what was about to happen? Angela tried to shake off her doubts and focus on the task at hand.

“Come inside,” The handmaid quickly ushered Angela to wait, leaving her alone in the opulent mansion. Angela scanned her surroundings, taking note of the family's wealth and luxury. But her mind was consumed by the upcoming act of violence. The thought of ending someone's life was a heavy burden to bear.

Angela took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves. She knew what she had to do and was prepared to do it. But the suspenseful silence of the mansion only added to her anxiousness. Who knew what was lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike? She could feel the weight of her weapon in her bag, a constant reminder of what was at stake. The suspense was almost unbearable.

As the old pendulum clock struck noon, its haunting chime filled the air, breaking the suffocating silence. Angela's stomach grumbled a reminder that she hadn't eaten breakfast. But the hunger pangs were swiftly overshadowed by the surge of anticipation coursing through her veins.

Minutes ticked by, each one amplifying the intensity of Angela's racing heart. The exhilaration she felt was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Today, she was about to commit murder—a deed that would thrust her into the spotlight of every major media outlet. Her name would dominate the headlines, her face plastered on the front page. The impending chaos of the trial awaited her, a whirlwind of historical significance.

Her gaze wandered across the dimly lit room, finally settling on a large painting adorning the wall. It depicted a picture-perfect family—a loving father, a doting mother, and a cherubic twelve-year-old boy. Angela's eyes locked onto the boy's image, and a shiver ran down her spine. It was Leonardo Vera, the sole heir of the influential Vera Corporation. The innocence reflected in the boy's brilliant blue eyes juxtaposed sharply with the sinister task Angela had set out to accomplish.

Her determination hardened as she fixed her gaze upon the painting, her mind steeling itself for the act that awaited her. The suspense hung thick in the air, intermingled with the weight of responsibility she bore. In a few moments, Angela would forever alter the course of countless lives, her actions echoing through history.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the room, interrupting the suspenseful atmosphere. A charming middle-aged woman, elegantly dressed in a flowing white gown, entered with a warm smile, instantly captivating Angela's attention.

"Hello... You're Angela, right?" the woman asked, extending her hand in a friendly gesture. Angela hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the unexpected warmth in the woman's demeanor.

"Yes, I'm Angela Brinson, the applicant," Angela replied, cautiously shaking the woman's hand. Her eyes darted briefly to the family painting on the wall, where the woman—Mrs. Vera—was depicted in her younger years.

Mrs. Vera requested to see Angela's resume, and Angela retrieved it from her shoulder purse, handing it over. As Mrs. Vera quietly scanned the document, Angela's gaze returned to the captivating family portrait, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions.

"You're hired," Mrs. Vera stated flatly, catching Angela off guard. The offer came swiftly and unexpectedly, leaving Angela momentarily stunned. Mrs. Vera didn't bother delving into Angela's background, her reasons obscured by a veil of secrecy. The rapid turn of events left Angela's heart pounding in her chest.

A mixture of relief and thrill washed over Angela's face as she flashed a beautiful, grateful smile at Mrs. Vera. "Thank you so much, madam," she replied, her voice tinged with excitement.

"I need someone to look after my son, so you can begin working right away," Mrs. Vera informed her, a glimmer of anticipation in her eyes.

"Now?" Angela's voice quivered with surprise, her mind racing to adjust to the sudden change in plans.

Mrs. Vera's smile widened. "Yes, is there a problem?" she inquired, a hint of curiosity in her tone.

Angela's grin grew forced, concealing the whirlwind of thoughts swirling within her. "Okay, I can start now," she responded, feigning enthusiasm. Her mind was already concocting escape routes, searching for opportunities to execute her dark plan.

"I want you to meet my son," Mrs. Vera continued, beckoning Mrs. Gale, her trusted helper, to join them. Angela's senses heightened, the scent of impending danger lingering in the air.

Angela's heart quickened as the realization dawned upon her. She hadn't expected to encounter the boy so soon. Her thoughts raced, seeking an opening, a chance to carry out her sinister mission and make her escape. The spacious kitchen stood to her right, seamlessly connected to the living area, with a door that likely led to the back.

"What do you need, Mrs. Vera?" Mrs. Gale asked, breaking Angela's train of thought.

"Take Miss Brinson to Leo's room," Mrs. Vera instructed. Angela maintained a calm facade, her mind strategizing every move, as she calmly replied, "I've met her already."

Mrs. Gale extended an invitation for Angela to join her, and with trembling hands, Angela excused herself from Mrs. Vera's presence. The two of them formed a solemn procession, navigating through a long, dimly lit hallway, passing numerous closed doors along the way. Each step only heightened Angela's anxiety, her fingers instinctively reaching for her purse to reassure herself of the concealed weapon within.

As they halted in front of the last door, Angela's grip on her purse tightened, her anticipation reaching its peak. Her target awaited her just beyond that threshold. With a resolute determination, she unzipped the purse, ensuring her readiness for what lay ahead.

Taking a deep breath, Mrs. Gale knocked on the door, projecting her voice as she addressed the person inside. "You need to meet someone, Leo."

"Get away!" a man's voice erupted from within, laced with anger and hostility.

"We'll go in, Leo. Your nurse is here," Mrs. Gale persisted.

"I told you to leave!" the man shouted, his voice resonating with an edge of desperation.

Undeterred, Mrs. Gale attempted to push the door open, but a forceful impact against the wall made her quickly retract her efforts. "You still have time to leave, Miss Brinson," she warned, concern etched into her voice.

Angela's patience frayed, her rage compelling her to push forward and fulfill her dark objective. But before she could act, something struck her forehead with force, sending her sprawling to the floor. Dazed and disoriented, she heard Mrs. Gale's concerned voice pulling her away from the door, swiftly shutting it behind them.

As Angela regained consciousness, her vision blurred, and the screams of both Mrs. Gale and the man within the room reverberated in her ears. She briefly drifted into unconsciousness and woke up, still catching snippets of the angry voice, a cacophony of curses and screams.

Opening her eyes, Angela rose to her feet, instinctively reaching for her brow, only to find it dry. Luck had spared her from a potentially fatal blow. "I'm fine," she reassured Mrs. Gale, refocusing her attention on the man inside. Summoning her courage, she approached the door cautiously, gathering her strength for what lay ahead.

With determined resolve, Angela pushed the door open, her eyes locking onto a man huddled in the corner of the room, an empty tray of food clenched in his hand. With a sudden motion, he flung the tray towards her, but she swiftly dodged, watching it collide with the wall before crashing to the floor.

"Get out! Everyone!" the man bellowed, his gaze fixed on the ground rather than on Angela. "I told you I don't need your help, you son of a bitch!"

"You needed someone to look after you, Leo," Mrs. Gale urged, her voice filled with concern. "You know how much your mother loves you. This is for your benefit."

"I don't deserve your care, Mrs. Gale!" he yelled, his frustration boiling over. "I'm useless right now, and I'm going to die soon! If you want to help, please give me my gun, or shoot me in the head!"

Angela's anger surged through her veins, and she couldn't contain herself any longer. "You wanted to die?" she screamed at him.

"Who's with you, Mrs. Gale?" he demanded, turning his head towards the window. "Answer me, Mrs. Gale!" he bellowed.

"Your new nurse is here, Leo. Your mother just hired another one!" Mrs. Gale exclaimed, her hands trembling with unease.

"I don't need a nurse!" he hissed, his voice laced with bitterness. "Give me my gun."

"Are you blind?" Angela questioned her agitation evident.

The man in the corner perspired profusely, his anger reaching its peak. His disheveled hair hung in knots, and his beard nearly obscured his entire jawline. Wearing a stained white T-shirt and black trousers, he appeared far removed from the image Angela had envisioned. This man was a broken, defeated soul.

"Whoever you are, get out," he growled, dragging his body closer to the door.