15/01/2025
My Mother Used My Sister For Her Dark Rituals
Episode 3
When I opened my eyes, the world was dim and smelled of iron. My arms were pulled and tied above me, bound to the cold, damp wall. My skin felt sticky, and when I looked down, I saw why—blood covered me, its dark red stains stark against my trembling body.
I didn’t dare make a sound. Fear clawed at my throat, but I swallowed it, forcing myself to stay silent. My eyes darted around the room, and then I saw her—Esther.
She was lying on the ground, her face pale, her body lifeless. Yet, she wasn’t alone. Mama knelt beside her, dipping her hands into a bowl filled with blood. Carefully, methodically, she traced symbols onto Esther’s arms and forehead, whispering words I couldn’t understand.
"Mama…" I mouthed silently, disbelief and terror coursing through me. This wasn’t the woman who had raised us, who had comforted us. This was someone—or something—else.
The door creaked open, and I froze. A man stepped in, his figure tall and imposing. He wore nothing but a red cloth tied around his waist. His skin was covered in scars, and his eyes burned with an intensity that made my stomach churn.
"Is it done?" the man asked, his voice deep and gravelly.
Mama nodded, standing up and stepping aside. "Take her," she said simply, motioning to Esther.
"No!" I wanted to scream, but fear paralyzed me.
The man walked to Esther, lifted her like she weighed nothing, and carried her out of the room. The door shut behind them with a resounding thud, leaving me alone with Mama.
She didn’t even glance at me. Instead, she began cleaning up the blood around her, humming a haunting melody under her breath.
The minutes crawled by, each one stretching into eternity. Then I heard it—a scream.
"Esther!" I whispered, my voice trembling.
Her cries pierced the silence, raw and filled with pain. My heart shattered with every sound. I struggled against the ropes, desperate to break free, but they only dug deeper into my wrists.
"Mama!