The Rebirth of the Dead Heiress

The room was cavernous, its walls bare and gray, with no decoration save for a single, ancient grandfather clock that loomed ominously in the corner. The air was thick with an unspoken tension, the faint smell of mildew clinging to the atmosphere. In the center of the room sat a massive burgundy table, its polished surface scratched and worn from years of use. It was the kind of table that held secrets, 

The clock ticked steadily, its pendulum swinging in hypnotic rhythm, casting elongated shadows on the walls with each sway. The light in the room was dim, coming from a solitary bulb hanging from the ceiling, flickering faintly as if undecided about staying on.

Suddenly, the sharp clang of a phone being slammed down pierced the silence, reverberating through the empty space. The force of it rattled the old clock, its pendulum swinging more erratically for a moment before settling back into its monotonous tick.

Footsteps echoed loudly in the hollow room—measured and deliberate. A man emerged from the shadows, his tall frame cloaked in a crisp military uniform. The muted gold of his epaulets caught the weak light, glinting faintly as he strode toward the door. His face was stern, weathered by years of command and the weight of decisions that could shatter lives.

The leather soles of his polished shoes scraped against the concrete floor, the sound heavy and grating, like the groan of a tired machine. Each step seemed purposeful, as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, his boots leaving faint scuff marks in their wake.

As the man disappeared into the shadows, the room fell silent again. The clock resumed its reign, its ticking now the only companion to the heavy air, as if marking time for the secrets the room had just witnessed.

A group of men was standing in a corner of the room with water dripping off their military attires were shivering, Not from the cold or the rain. But, they were shivering from fear. Standing face to face with their General, they didn't know what excuses to make up. He would see right through them and give them a harsh punishment for lying. The panicked expressions on the men's faces were clear enough to let the General know that they'd messed up on their job. The easiest job they've had so far—so he would put it.

Having waited for so long for the soldiers to report their incompetency, he decided to ask the question. 

"Where is he?"

The group of men were frozen in their spots. No one wanted to come forward and be the one to bring the bad news to the General. But, they knew if they didn't answer his question, he would kill them on the spot. The General was as heartless as the devil himself. 

A man with salt and pepper hair stepped forward and bent his head in respect. "General...we...can...can't...find him, Si...him...Sir" He bent his head again in respect, still shivering from fear. They were done for. He thought.

"What do you mean by you can't find him?" The Generals gruff voice asked.

Another man took two scared steps from the group of people standing looking down at their feet in fear and embarrassment.

"We're...sss...or...y...sir...we...w...e didn't know when he...hhh...ee left"

The General held up his left hand as his right hand reached for his belt and grabbed the gun from the holster, pointing it at the heads of all of them.

"You're sorry?? What the fuck do you mean by you are sorry?? He escaped and you couldn't do anything about it and you come back here to open your fucking dirty mouths to fucking apologize?" He spat, cracked the gun, and continued speaking "Do you know what happens to those who can't do their jobs fucking right?" He asked, looking at them to answer, but the old Gower bell telephone on the huge table rang. The General eyed his men and the telephone. He nodded his head to the side signifying a man to bring the phone for him. 

When the phone was brought, he put the phone on his head the other person on the other end began to speak while the General listened. Still, on the phone, the General's face was twisted with rage. Almost immediately, he threw the phone on the ground and glared at his men. 

"What the fuck happens to those who can't fucking do their jobs well?" The General asked again. This time, they knew what will happen 

Another man from the other men whispered "They...die..."

"That's right Jim. They die" 

Jim swallowed as the General pointed the gun at the salt-and-pepper-haired man and shot him in his head. The man fell on the floor lifeless as blood splattered everywhere and even on the General's face. The blood landed on the General's lips, he licked it and smiled evilly, kicking the body aside.

He shot the other man who spoke after the salt and pepper-haired man and the man fell lifeless on the floor. The other soldiers looked down at the floor, petrified. Some were saying their last prayer and some thought it was wise to take off. 

Those who ran off were shot dead and the remaining were now looking up at the General begging for their lives with their eyes.

"I'd give you one last chance." He looked at them "Find that monster and fucking bring him back here. Do you understand?" He pointed the gun at the man he called Jim.

"Ye...sss....Sirrr"

"Do you fucking understand me?" He asked again 

"Yes Sir!"

"Good. Come back empty hand and y'all are fucking dead. Escape and I would hunt you down and kill you and every animal related to you. I don't care if it's your fucking parents or your shitty children." He paused, allowing his threat to sink into them like a parasite "Do you understand?" He asked again

"Yes Sir!!!" 

"Now leave" They scurried off out of the room fast before the General lost his mind again. 

As soon as they left, the General screamed and kicked the phone he threw on the ground walking off to the chair beside the table. If this monster isn't caught, something bad might happen, he thought as he brought his hand to his hair, screaming again.