"Oh, we'll know soon enough."
Then, without warning, she began slowly slicing my fingers, telling me it was a special gift just for me.
I wanted to scream. To struggle. To flee. But I couldn't move. As if my body refused to obey my mind.
It was absolute terror, complete paralysis. My tears flowed, but no scream came out. The smell of antiseptic mixed with the metallic scent of my blood.
And that wasn't the worst of it.
She pulled out a kris, a dagger with an undulating blade whose reflections caught the harsh light of the fluorescent tubes. Then, little by little, she drove it into my stomach, causing an indescribable pain that shot through my entire body.
The cold metal contrasted with the warmth of my blood slowly flowing out.
"Hmm..." she murmured while rummaging inside. "Are your intestines light pink or reddish pink? Personally, I like pink."
Her tone was childish, almost amused. She gently lifted my intestine, examining it with a morbid fascination. Her eyes lit up, like those of a child receiving a long-awaited gift.
"It's so beautiful," she whispered, delicately running her finger along the wet, shiny surface. "So alive."
Then, with calculated slowness, she brought her face closer. Her warm breath caressed my exposed organs, an intimate and obscene exhalation. Her tongue, pale and thin, emerged between her lips and licked my intestine, tracing a sinuous path on the exposed flesh. A shiver of pleasure ran through her while I felt my own body emptying of its warmth.
"Hmm," she said, closing her eyes. "Slightly salty, with a metallic note. You have a... unique taste. I can taste your fear, it has a particular flavor."
She continued her macabre tasting, her lips leaving bloody traces on my organ. With each contact, I felt my consciousness waver, as if she were absorbing my vital essence through this abject ritual.
Outside, the rain began to fall, hammering against the window out of sync with the frantic beating of my heart.
"A gift deserves a bonus, doesn't it?" she added, wiping the blood from the corner of her lips with an almost coquettish gesture.
And that's when she raised her weapon to cut my Achilles tendons.
The pain was unbearable, and just before I blacked out, a white light burst into the room. A light so intense that I had to close my eyes.
When I reopened them...
Everything had disappeared.
No pain. No sadistic nurse. No wounds. Nothing.
Just my father, sitting next to my bed, a cup of cold coffee between his hands.
He fixed me with a grave look, his features drawn with worry.
"They've come to claim the thing. We're going to see your grandmother today."
A shiver runs down my spine. These waking nightmares can end... but they are real. Terribly real. And something tells me they're only just beginning.
My father's words still echo in my head: "They've come to claim the thing." Who are they? And what thing? Questions crowd my mind, but my throat is too tight to formulate them.
It's Jade who breaks the silence.
"What thing, Uncle Charles?"
My father tenses. His fingers grip the edge of my hospital bed until his knuckles turn white.
"It's a complicated story, Jade. Don't try to shorten your life."
"What do you mean, shorten my life?"
In the hallway, the fluorescent lights flicker. Once. Twice. I see again the nurse's smile and her instruments... I shake my head to chase away the image. The phantom sensation of her tongue on my flesh makes me retch.
My father stands up, looks out the window. The rain transforms the outside world into a blurry watercolor. His reflection in the glass looks older, more tired than usual.
"It's a family story," he murmurs. "A story that goes back to well before you were born. I know you love your cousin, but if you get involved... there will be no going back. Are you really sure you want to continue?"
Jade's face hardens. Tears of anger shine in her eyes, but her voice doesn't tremble.
"In this family of rich people, you never think about your children! The meetings, the business trips... You buy us with gifts to mask your absence. To give yourselves a clear conscience."
A tear rolls down her cheek.
"You know what? Sometimes I would have preferred to be born into a modest family. At least money wouldn't have replaced love."
She angrily wipes her eyes.
"So yes, Uncle. I will follow my cousin on this journey. No matter the risks."
Her words touch me right in the heart. Tears well up in my eyes that I can't hold back. In my head, the images mix together: the children with black pupils, the nurse with the cruel smile licking my entrails, and... an older memory. A stormy night, ten years ago. My mother's screams. The same terror that already paralyzed me. The smell of hot wax and burning herbs.
My father observes us for a long time. For the first time, I notice the deep circles under his eyes, the worry lines etching his forehead. He seems to have been carrying an invisible burden for years.
"This frivolous little girl has become an adult," he sighs.
He approaches Jade and places a hesitant hand on her shoulder.
"I would have preferred to keep you away from all this, but perhaps your instinct is right. We've tried too long to protect you by keeping you in ignorance."
A metallic noise echoes in the hallway. Like cutlery clattering together.
My father suddenly straightens, his face suddenly pale.
"We need to leave. Now."
In the mirror across from my bed, I think I glimpse a figure with long black hair. A shadow that slips between the reflections, as if swimming beneath the surface of the glass. When I look again, it has disappeared.
But her smile remains etched in my memory. A smile that promises this is only the beginning.
To be continued