My Husband, The Monster

ng began. My husband, John, once the living proof of my life' s wo

barriers with superhuman strength given by the very neural chip I designed

by bump used to be. Our child was gone. John, who had caused th

is dead because your work

he also accused my life's dedication, corrupted by my shrewd rival,

t my hospital bed. Then, Vivian, with a sickeningly sweet smile, proposed using my dead so

t was a profane violation. I was forced to concede

ignited within me. "You have no idea

mind from the depths of despair. It's not over. It wa