Bound by The Devil on Christmas

Chapter 1: Between Death and Deception

- Seraphine

“Aiden, slow down! You’re making me dizzy.”

Jamie laughed nervously from the back seat, clutching a paper cup of hot cocoa that was already sloshing over his jeans.

Winter had crashed the party early this year, turning the streets into a quiet beauty a few weeks before Christmas.

“I’m not speeding,” Aiden Griffiths protested lightly, tapping the brakes as a red light glowed ahead. “Blame the snow, not me. It’s called festive driving. You should try it sometime.”

I turned in my seat and smiled at Jamie. “You’re the one who begged for cocoa. Now look at you—half marshmallow.”

“Hey!” he protested, clutching the cup tighter. “This is premium cocoa. Extra marshmallows were a strategic choice.” He stuck out his tongue, and everyone laughed. Even Dad, who was usually quiet, was beaming with a warm smile.

With a faint, weary smile, I let my forehead rest against the cool glass. Exhaustion had pulled at my bones so deeply that every muscle in my body screamed for rest.

The final days before the holiday had drained every last bit of my energy, and I was looking forward to two weeks of doing absolutely nothing.

“Sera, you’ve been awfully quiet over there,” my mother said softly from the back. “Something wrong?”

“Just tired, Mom,” she admitted. “Can’t wait to be home.”

That’s what we called it. It was actually our lodge. A vacation place tucked away in the mountains, one we’d had since I was little.

It should have comforted me. Instead, my stomach tightened.

I’d felt it for days. That strange sense that something was off. I blamed stress. Yeah, it had to be stress.

Aiden’s hands tightened on the wheel. His jaw clenched, though his voice stayed casual. “We should’ve stayed home,” he muttered, his eyes flicking between the road and me. “Visibility’s getting worse.”

My father leaned forward. “It’s only a few more miles,” he said calmly. “Take it slow.”

I reached over and rested my hand on Aiden’s. “Hey. Relax, honey. It’s not the end of the world.”

He gave me a half-smile. “Just making sure it doesn’t become one.” Then he glanced at Jamie, who had kept humming a christmas carol. “Besides, someone insisted on cocoa, and you know I can’t say no to him.”

I chuckled, but my smile quickly faded when the ground began to tremble.

The loud, screeching sound came first.

Then a flash of blinding headlights from a train cut through the snowfall; blinding, unstoppable, and roaring straight at us. And in that frozen second, I realized our car hadn’t moved off the tracks.

I stared wide-eyed at the train speeding towards our motionless car, awaiting our doom as it slammed into it with extreme impact.

Then came the sound of squeaking tires, twisting metal, and Jamie’s voice shouting, “Dad—!”

The horn of a train blared, a bone-deep roar that blotted out all the other sounds. Glass shattered, spraying sharp shards that sliced through the air.

I heard agonizing screams, but they were muffled, frantic, and terribly distant.

The last thing I saw before the world went dark was the crumpled hood of the car.

All sound died, replaced by a cold, endless, and terrifying silence.

***

The tragic accident came back in sharp, blinding flashes.

It felt too real this time as my eyes snapped open with a sudden jolt. It forcefully pulled me out of the long, dark haze I’d been trapped in.

The first thing I heard was a steady, rhythmic beeping that nagged at my skull.

I woke up enough to realize I was in a hospital ward. Every inch of me was throbbing with a deep, weary ache that felt rooted in every cell.

I couldn't even open my eyes; they were glued shut with some crust. To make it worse, a heavy, suffocating pressure squeezed my chest, making each breath a painful effort.

The car crash!

I remembered the screech, the broken glass, and the awful lurch into darkness. My family and Aiden, my husband. Were they…?

I tried to move, but my body wouldn’t obey. A sharp, searing pain radiated from my midsection, pinning me down. My left arm was heavy, encased in a cast that propped it up on a pillow.

Panic shot up my spine. My throat ached when I tried to swallow.

“Hel…lo?” My voice came out as a rough whisper.

Outside the curtain, two shadows moved. Then, two familiar voices cut sharply through the fog in my mind: a woman's low murmur and a man's softer, but clearly impatient, reply.

It was Aiden, my husband, and Marielle, my best friend and bridesmaid, the woman who’d been there for everything.

I should have felt relief to know that my dear husband was still alive. Instead, my blood ran cold when I heard their conversation.

“If I’d known the roads would be this bad…” Aiden muttered, then laughed quietly. “Well… maybe I did. Looked like the weather finally cooperated. Perfect night for... an ending.”

“Aiden, shhh. She might hear you,” Marielle murmured.

My fingers twitched. The urge to open my eyes was overwhelming.

“Hear what?” Aiden snapped impatiently. “She’s not waking up. Doctors say she’s practically brain-dead. I’ve been playing the grieving husband perfectly for you, you know. So many tears, such heartfelt concern. I should win an Oscar.”

Marielle let out a soft, cruel laughter. “You’re terrible. But I get your point. Just hang in there. The wreck did most of the work; it’s a shame she’s still breathing. We need to finish what the accident started.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Aiden’s voice dropped to a furious whisper. “Her father’s will was very specific. Everything goes to her if she’s alive. We need her officially declared incompetent, or better yet, dead, before that changes. I’ve got a contact in the probate court. He can speed things up. But we need her to stay… unresponsive. Can’t have her suddenly waking up and remembering things she shouldn't.”

Remember what? What could I possibly know that scared him enough to say that?

My chest tightened in disbelief.

This couldn’t be real. A side effect of the drugs or the coma. It had to be a nightmare, just a mess of dark thoughts and fear tangled up in my unconscious mind.

I had loved and trusted Aiden. And Marielle, she had been my shadow, my sister in everything but blood.

But their voices didn’t sound confused or panicked.

A sickening thought started to strike. What if the accident wasn't some random stroke of bad luck? What if it was a setup?

A sharp sound of footsteps suddenly bounced along the hall.

“Is she awake?” Aiden asked.

Just as he stepped through the doorway, I blinked only for a second, but long enough to see him through my blurred vision.

Aiden wore a dark coat, his hair a little messy, like he hadn’t slept in days. He looked like the grieving husband: exhausted, heartbreakingly handsome, and having that sad look in his eyes that could win over anyone who didn’t know better.

Marielle was right behind him, trailing a scent of high-end perfume that felt suffocating in the sterile air. She looked perfect, wearing a fake sympathetic expression, but her eyes were like ice.

In panic, my eyes flutter closed again, forcing my breath to slow, heavy and uneven, the way it had been when I first woke.

I stayed still, pretending to be knocked out, exactly what they needed me to be.

Aiden moved closer to the bed. He was speaking so softly, as if he was worried the walls had ears.

"Gosh, Marielle, she's not waking up. The doctor said it's been a week."

“Poor Sera. It’s been days. I really thought—” Marielle said, glancing at Aiden. “Maybe she’ll wake up soon.”

“The doctor said there’s brain swelling. She might not even remember anything.”

Marielle leaned closer to Aiden, whispering, “You should be careful. If she wakes up and remembers, we’re done.”

“She won’t. Not after that crash. She’s lucky even to be breathing.”

"Then what do you want me to do, Aiden?" she replied. "We can't exactly smother her with a pillow in here. There are nurses everywhere."

"I know," Aiden snapped.

Hearing how both of my beloveds were planning to kill me, my heart twisted painfully so suddenly it felt like she’d been punched from the inside.

The curtain shifted again. The doctor stepped in, clipboard in hand.

“Mr. Griffiths,” he said with a polite nod, “Mrs. Griffiths.”

My half-shut gaze flickered to them. Mrs. Griffiths?

Were they married? No… that couldn’t be right. Aiden was my husband, wasn’t he?

The confusion twisted in my chest like a knife.

The doctor checked the monitor beside my bed, noting the readings. “She’s responding to stimuli,” he said quietly. “There’s slight movement in her fingers—good progress after a long coma.”

“That means she might wake up soon?” Marielle asked.

“I hope soon,” he replied. “But she’ll be disoriented. Memory loss is possible. We’ll know more when she opens her eyes fully.”

My lashes fluttered slightly, and I forced them half open just enough to see the three of them.

Aiden stood close to Marielle, his hand brushing against hers in a way that made my stomach twist.

“Let me know the moment she’s awake,” Aiden said. “We’ll need to… talk.”

The doctor nodded, writing something down. “Of course. But she’ll need a long rest.”

Marielle smiled faintly with false concern. “We’ll make sure she gets it.”

After they left, the doctor stayed for a moment longer, adjusting the IV line. For the first time since waking, I felt a flicker of warmth and kindness in the way he took care of me.

“You’re safe,” he murmured. “Just rest for now.”

But I wasn’t sure if I believed him, because behind my eyelids, I could still see the way Aiden’s fingers brushed Marielle’s hand… and hear his lingering words saying I shouldn’t have survived.

And for the first time since the crash, I wished I hadn’t.