Fabiana had always been the kind of mother who planned every detail. Ever since her twins, Matías and Mateo, were little, she meticulously dedicated herself to making every birthday an unforgettable memory. That day, her house was transformed into a fantasy world inspired by Super Mario. Red and blue balloons floated in the air.

The cake was shaped like a green pipe with smiling mushrooms, and she had even hired an entertainer dressed as Luigi. Grandma Violeta, as always, was present, helping with everything with her tireless energy. Guests laughed, children played, and Fabiana constantly watched her sons with a mixture of tenderness and pride. The genuine happiness of watching them grow shone in her eyes. Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

Around 5 PM, after blowing out the candles and distributing the first slices of cake, Matías fell to the floor. His face instantly paled, and Fabiana ran toward him, confused. Then, Mateo also collapsed, and when she tried to scream, she felt a burning in her throat, a pressure in her chest, and fell beside them.

The chaos was immediate. Someone screamed for help. A nurse who was among the guests ran to check vital signs, and soon the unthinkable was heard: No pulse. The scene became blurred for everyone present. The music stopped. The balloons floated in a deathly silence, and the horrified guests could barely move. Grandma Violeta wept inconsolably, clutching her daughter’s inert body. In a matter of minutes, the birthday turned into a wake.

The three bodies were viewed together in a white coffin adorned with yellow flowers. “A mother and her sons inseparable until the end,” the card read. But what no one knew was that this end was only the beginning of something much darker and more brilliant. If this part has moved you, subscribe to the channel so we can continue sharing stories like this.

The Earth was still fresh when Fabiana opened her eyes. She didn’t understand where she was. She only knew she couldn’t move and was struggling to breathe. It was dark, there was wood everywhere, and something was pressing against her sides. She tried to scream, but her voice wouldn’t come out. Then she felt a slight movement beside her, a whisper, a childish moan.

“Mom,” it was Matías’s voice, trembling, confused. Then Mateo was heard coughing and murmuring in panic. Fabiana’s heart pounded so hard she felt her chest would explode. Somehow, her children were also there, alive. With effort, she managed to move her right arm and noticed something in the pocket of her dress, a cell phone.

The screen lit up upon contact, and when unlocked, a video was already playing. A distorted voice spoke to them urgently. “You are safe. There is oxygen in the coffin. Put on the masks now.” Just then, they noticed two tubes connected to small air tanks and silicone masks hanging over their heads.

Fabiana, without thinking, placed one on each child and then on herself. There was no time for questions. Minutes later, while the three tried to calm their breathing, they began to hear muffled noises above them, footsteps, shovels hitting the dirt, and finally the squeak of the coffin lid being removed; an intense light blinded them for an instant.

Hooded men, dressed in black, quickly pulled them out, without saying a single word. Fabiana screamed, pleading for answers, but no one responded. They were put into a windowless van and driven for hours in complete silence. The children, clinging to their mother, didn’t know if they were alive or trapped in a nightmare.

They finally arrived at an isolated house, surrounded by trees and with no neighbors in sight. Inside, Fabiana was separated from the twins for a moment, locked in a room where she began to bang on the door desperately. “Please, tell me what is happening. We are victims, not criminals,” she cried through sobs.

And then the door opened, and a face she never expected to see in that context appeared. It was Violeta, her mother, alive, well, and with an expression that said everything. Fabiana froze. Seeing her mother there, serene and without a single sign of distress, brought her a mixture of relief and confusion. “Mom, what is going on? Are you alive? Is this a kidnapping?” Violeta did not respond immediately.

Violeta didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she walked slowly into the room and closed the door behind her with a soft click. Fabiana stared at her, trembling, unsure whether to embrace her or recoil.

“Mom… please,” Fabiana whispered. “What is this? Who are those men? Why were we buried alive? What’s going on?”

Violeta took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the bed. Her voice was calm—but heavy.

“Fabiana… listen to me. Everything I did was to save you and the boys.”

“Save us?!” Fabiana exploded. “You let us be buried! My children—your grandchildren—were screaming for air!”

Violeta nodded slowly. “If I hadn’t… all three of you would be dead for real.”

Fabiana froze.

“What do you mean?”

Violeta’s eyes glistened. “The cake. It was poisoned.”

Silence. Cold, suffocating silence.

Fabiana’s voice broke. “Poisoned? By who?!”

“At least four people in that party wanted one of you dead,” Violeta said. “But I couldn’t identify which one—or why. So I made sure they all believed they succeeded.”

Fabiana’s hands trembled. “You… faked our deaths?”

“Yes,” Violeta replied. “The nurse at the party is an old friend of mine. She helped administer a toxin that slowed your vitals long enough to simulate death. The paramedics were ours. The coffin had oxygen. Everything was monitored.”

Fabiana tried to process it all, her mind racing. “But why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Because you would never have gone along with it,” Violeta said gently. “You would have tried to protect whoever you thought wasn’t guilty. And that hesitation would have gotten you killed.”

The room spun. Fabiana’s heart raced like thunder.

“Who?” she whispered. “Who wanted us dead?”

Violeta’s face hardened.

“That’s what we’re going to find out.”

She stood and extended her hand.

“Right now, the world believes you and the twins are buried under six feet of dirt. That gives us one advantage…”

Her eyes burned with fierce resolve.

“They think they’ve won.”

Fabiana slowly stood, wiping her tears. A mother’s grief was still fresh—but now, something new burned beneath it.

Rage.

Protective, feral rage.

“What do we do now?” she asked.

Violeta looked toward the door, where footsteps approached.

“Now,” she said, “we start hunting.”