The Prank My Husband Left Me Was His Severed Hand Chapter 2

It looked like there were actually maggots writhing around the severed flesh.

The putrid stench and the dark ooze were both coming from the hand.

My head buzzed.

With a sharp shriek, I flung the box away.

The object rolled out onto the floor, giving me a much clearer view.

It was a man’s hand.

A wedding band was still tightly fitted around the ring finger and the knuckles were violently contorted as if it had been hacked off while the victim was still alive.

My immediate instinct was to find Michael.

My hands shook uncontrollably as I fumbled for my phone and dialed his number.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Nobody answered.

The empty ringing echoed through the quiet house, making the silence around me feel even more suffocating.

My heart was practically leaping out of my throat.

Tears streamed down my face as I kept hitting redials. "Michael, please pick up..."

I kept trying until a mechanical female voice cut in.

“The mobile number you have dialed is currently switched off or unavailable.”

The cold voice snapped me out of my panic, forcing a sliver of rationality back into my brain.

I stared dead at the severed hand, a thousand frantic thoughts racing through my mind.

The rotting smell, the maggots, the blackened flesh... this was absolutely not a toy.

Taking a deep breath, I gave up on Michael's number.

My trembling fingers moved across the keypad and dialed 911.

The moment the call connected, I tried desperately to choke back my sobs, but my throat was so tight it throbbed with pain.

"911, what is the emergency?"

"I want to report a crime! There’s... there’s a prank gift in my house but I think it’s a real human hand..."

The words had barely left my mouth when the sheer terror of the situation truly hit me.

My voice shook violently and my tongue felt so knotted that it took me a good while just to explain what was happening.

The dispatcher on the other end was calm, instructing me to stay exactly where I was and to avoid touching anything.

"We have dispatched officers to your location. Please keep your line open."

When the call ended, the house plunged back into a deathly silence.

This quietness was even harder to swallow than before.

It took a massive effort just to push myself up off the floor but my eyes kept darting back toward the storage closet anyway.

I was terrified that at any moment, something else might come crawling out.

To stop my mind from spinning into dark places, I forced myself to stare blankly at the tissue box on the coffee table.

Every second of waiting felt agonizingly long.

If it weren't for this, I should have been happily counting down the days until Michael came home.

Instead, my head was a chaotic mess of suspicion and dread.

Finally, the doorbell rang.

The sudden chime made me jump, pulling me instantly out of my trance.

"Police department. Open up, please."

My legs felt entirely like jelly as I rushed over to unlock the door.

Two officers in uniform stepped inside, a man and a woman, looking like they had rushed straight over.

The female officer, who looked quite young, swept her eyes across the room before addressing me in a gentle voice.

"You're the caller, Gina, right?"

I nodded frantically, stepping aside to let them in.

The male officer was already slipping on a pair of latex gloves.

"Where is the object?" he asked.

"Over there," I whispered, pointing toward the storage closet, my voice still trembling.

The male officer walked over, and the moment he laid eyes on the severed hand, his posture visibly stiffened.

He crouched down to inspect it closely while the female officer continued to comfort me.

"Don't worry too much. Like you said, it could just be a prank prop.

“I know some of these gag gifts are made to look and smell incredibly realistic nowadays.

“We've actually dealt with similar false alarms before..."

But her attempt at reassurance was instantly shattered.

"It's not a toy," the male officer cut in with his tone grim. "I can confirm this is a real human limb."

His definitive conclusion sent a chilling shiver straight down my spine.

He pulled out evidence bags, carefully securing the box and the severed hand separately.

Then, he turned around to face me, his eyes locking onto my pale, bloodless face.