The crowd is uncontrollable. People are scattered all over my house, screaming, shouting. I am unaware of anything at this point until I look up and see the roof. When did the bag of groceries slip from my hand? I don't even remember. The building is swallowed by the storm of people. There's no clear way in. The constant shouting, the chaos - it pulls me back, but I need to get in. I have to.
With sheer force, I push through, shoving bodies aside as I force the door open and slip inside, slamming it shut behind me. My breath comes in ragged gasps as I race up the stairs, not looking back. All I can think about is her. She's all I have, and I won't lose my last thread of sanity.
I fling open the terrace door and charge inside, but I freeze. She's standing there. Completely still. Barely breathing. At the edge of the terrace. Barefoot. Still. Her head tilts at an unnatural angle, too heavy for her neck. A thick, angry bruise wraps around her throat, like a hand that refused to let go. Her arms hang limply, one elbow twisted backward, fingers twitching as if remembering pain. She stares at me, no smile, no expression - just a broken, vacant look as if she's trapped in a moment of grief.
Tears slip slowly down her face, yet her body doesn't move. Not even to breathe.
Her mouth opens but nothing comes out. Just a horrible, wet, choking sound, like something lodged deep in her throat. Her jaw quivers, trying to form words, but she can't speak. Her eyes? My God, her eyes are screaming.
For a moment, she doesn't look alive. She looks like she remembers dying.
"BIANCA!" I scream. "Please don't leave me, baby." My words catch in my throat, but nothing changes. I'm horrified by her state. Her body is pale, her ankles terribly burned, lips colorless and charred. The smell of decay is overpowering. This is my wife - the woman I love. I try to hold my tears back, but it's impossible. I fall to my knees, crying, remembering our first day of marriage just three months ago. If I had known, if I had just known, this house would almost kill her. I would have never come here.
A soft voice rings out, barely audible, "You..."
I look up, wiping my tears. She smiles. She'll be okay. She's going to be okay.
But as she says, "Thank you," her voice is no longer familiar. It's deeper, twisted. More terrifying than anything I've ever heard. Her voice is terrifying, not angelic anymore. Deeper and scarier. I can see the demon in her. Her smile stretches unnaturally wide and before I can do anything, she jumps off. My heart sinks as I try to reach out to her, but she is... gone as I see her blood splatter on the ground.
I watch, frozen, as her body splatters on the ground below. The muffled cry that escapes my throat is all I can manage. I stumble downstairs, horrified, reaching her lifeless body. Her head is crushed, her hair tangled in her blood. I can hear the sirens approach but it's too late. I kneel beside her, my hands trembling as I tuck a strand of her beautiful curly hair behind her ear and gently whisper "Welcome, baby."
A sinister smile spreads across my face as I look at the crowd gathering. The search for my next victim begins.
