His Loss Twisted into His Theater

I laughed sharply, silencing them.

My mother, Penelope Cole, had a trust fund with annual interest that could buy the Waltons' crumbling empire ten times over. Their business only survived because I'd quietly funneled money to cover their debts.

A childhood kidnapping left me with scars, so Penelope made me hide my identity.

Oblivious, Herbert took my money to shower Ella with gifts, then turned around and mocked me.

Neither of them had a shred of shame.

"Trash me as you like," I snapped. "I won't let you insult my mom!"

"Are you threatening me?" Herbert scoffed, unfazed. "Let me be straight. Her death is just the cherry on top for Ella's big opening."

His friends hooted, "Man, tonight is the main event. We gotta test that new theme."

Herbert glanced at me and waved at his bodyguards. "For running her mouth, Caroline is going to be our new prop."

I kicked and clawed as they dragged me to a lab-themed room and strapped me to a cold steel table.

Ella strutted in, brandishing a massive syringe. "Welcome to my haunted lab! Ready for a scream-worthy live experiment?"

The crowd roared with laughter. "This is gold! I'm streaming it live. The opening is going to be a hit!"

My phone buzzed relentlessly in my coat, the interruption getting under Herbert's skin.

He ripped it out, pausing when "Chairman Cole" flashed on the screen, then smashed it against my forehead.

"Climbing the social ladder, huh?" he sneered.

Ella poked his chest, smirking. "A chairman? Girl, you're two-timing my buddy with some crusty old suit? Bet you're staging this to scam cash and run off with him."

She stepped closer, drawing a vial of sickly green liquid from a prop container. "Time to fix this skank."

Herbert egged her on, practically bouncing with excitement. "Genius! Strip her down, cage her up, and let the guests gawk."

Ella lunged, aiming the needle at my neck.

...

I snapped the ropes, thanks to those escape training sessions, and jammed the syringe into her hand.

"My hand! Oh my God!" she screamed, her skin sizzling and smoking.

Her friends stumbled back, horrified. "What the hell? It's not a prop. Is that acid?"

Herbert panicked, cradling Ella before spinning to slap me. "Bitch, how dare you hurt her? Get on your knees and beg, or your mom's ashes are landfill bait!"

Just then, commotion erupted at the entrance.

A hospital worker rushed in, breathless. "Professor Walton, we called a hundred times and tracked your phone. The patient was counting on your antidote, but on the way..."

He sighed, "She's gone. We brought her body for you to handle."

"Like a cockroach that won't stay dead," Herbert snorted.

"They brought the body?" Ella screeched. "Perfect! A real corpse for a prop."

The crowd laughed. "A real body? Man, that's legendary!"

"It stinks, though." Herbert pinched his nose and kicked the body off the stretcher. "Bad luck! Can't even die quietly."

The body hit the floor, revealing a swollen and purple face. It was unrecognizable.

With a grin, Herbert grabbed my hair and shoved me toward it. "Bark like a dog and apologize to Ella. I might let you off. Otherwise, your mom will be the castle's first real ghost."

My scalp burned, but the absurdity of the whole thing made me laugh.

I slapped his hand away. "You're the expert at barking. Why don't you and Ella give me a duet?"

"How dare you talk back?" he growled, stomping on the corpse's head with a sickening crunch.

I was unperturbed. "What if that's not my mom, but yours?"

...

He threw his head back and cackled. "You're out of your damn mind. My mom is chilling on a beach abroad. Your trash-digging mom versus mine? No contest."

Ella, clutching her blackened hand, glared. "Herbert, don't waste your breath. She's bad-mouthing your mom. Chop her dead mom up already!"

Herbert's eyes glinted with coldness. He grabbed an axe from the wall and started hacking at the body.

"That's right," he said. "These arms and legs are perfect for the haunted castle? Gonna scare the pants off our guests."

I listened to the chopping sound and laughed. This guy was dumber than a bag of hammers.

I couldn't wait to see his shock when he realized he was mutilating his own mother.

He gloated. "You like that? Your mom is the star of our show. Apologize to Ella and cut off the hand that hurt her. I'll let you collect her scraps."

He reached for me, but I grabbed an iron pot from the table and smashed it into his face. He staggered back, blood gushing from his nose.

Everyone was taken aback.

Ella pointed at me, barking, "You hit Herbert? Get her and chop her limbs off!"

Before his goons could move, Herbert wobbled to his feet, his eyes burning. "This is just great! I've spoiled you so much you've forgotten your place!"

He grabbed the corpse's head and dragged it to the backyard, where a hulking industrial shredder loomed.

His goons hauled me along, their grips bruising.

"Caroline, watch your mom turn to dust!" he spat, flipping the switch.

The machine roared to life. He tossed the mangled body in, the blood spraying everywhere.

Drenched in gore, Herbert laughed, arms spread wide. "See that? Cross me, and this is what you get. No ashes to cry over."

He turned, his eyes locked on me. "Your turn."

He charged with the axe, but the gate crashed open.

Oscar Walton stormed in, striking Herbert with his cane. "Your mom was dying, and you stopped Caroline from saving her? You monster! Where is her body?"