Flames of Solitude - Volume 1

The sounds of laughter, happiness, and chatter once again filled the house. Melody and Jessica reveled in playing with their healed mother. The neighbors visited to extend their congratulations to Meren for the miraculous recovery. Even the priest, upon hearing the news, paid a visit to them.

In the living room, Jessica busied herself preparing two cups of tea for the priest and her mother, and a cup of juice for Melody.

“I am so happy for you, Meren. You have not only felt God’s grace but have also touched a part of His incredible and omnipotent power,” the priest exclaimed, his joy evident. Jessica couldn’t help but notice his trembling hands and wondered if he might be unwell.

“It was right to follow your advice, Father Mariliano. I should have never doubted the Lord,” Meren’s voice quivered with awe.

“Do not worry. We all have times when our faith falters, but in the end, you showed strength and trusted in the greatest,” the priest reassured.

“Did God save you, Mom?” Melody chimed in.

Meren lifted her daughter onto her lap, embracing her small waist from behind.

“Yes, God has given me a new chance because I prayed a lot to Him.”

Melody’s eyes sparkled with wonder, and the priest’s grin seemed to grow with every passing moment, threatening to split his face in two. Jessica watched from the sidelines, a faint unease gnawing at her. There was something not quite right, like a distant whisper in her mind that she couldn’t fully comprehend.

Despite the happiness surrounding her, this moment didn’t feel exactly as she had wished for during the past weeks. Her mother was back, her sister was happy, and it was almost as if the terrible incident from weeks ago had never occurred.

But it had happened. Jessica had been one of the victims, and there was still that strange memory of waking up on the carpet in her mother’s room. “Mom, did you leave early today?” Jessica inquired.

Meren shifted her attention to Jessica but did not answer immediately.

“Yes, I went to pray in the morning... That is when the miracle happened.”

“Oh…”

Jessica didn’t press for more information; that explanation was sufficient for her. She must have sleepwalked into the room and gone unnoticed by her mother in the morning. Jessica recalled a classmate who once woke up in the kitchen with a piece of bread stuck to his cheek, likely in the midst of preparing a sandwich while sleepwalking. Although Jessica’s memories of the previous night weren’t humorous, she had at least found a plausible explanation.

After finishing the tea, the priest bid his farewell, and Meren accompanied him to the door.

“Jes, play with me,” Melody urged, displaying the new toy she had received from the priest.

Upon seeing Melody’s new doll, Jessica thought about the priest’s kindness and how he had helped their mother and given Melody a gift. Perhaps she should thank him.

“I’ll play with you; I just need to say goodbye.”

Jessica had never thanked the religious man before, so she wanted to express her gratitude. Hurriedly, she made her way to the door, not wanting to miss him. Luck was on her side today, as she could see the black and white robe near the entrance, about to leave.

“Father, I almost forgot!” Jessica heard her mother call after the priest, who promptly turned around. Meren retrieved something from beneath her dress, and it caught the sunlight, momentarily blinding Jessica before she could make out its slender form. It was a shiny metal object with a pointed end and a wooden handle — a simple dagger.

Yet, it wasn’t just a simple dagger; the handle was meticulously crafted with intricate wood carvings that demonstrated the artistry of the woodworker. The handle had a subtle curvature designed for a comfortable grip. Red gems were embedded into the handle, scattered sporadically like wounds on the body, lacking any discernible pattern. The steel blade shimmered brilliantly, appearing untouched, as if it had never been used before, and it was sharp enough to effortlessly cut through anything in its path — such as the skin and flesh of a human.

These details, however, escaped Jessica’s notice. Her eyes did not perceive the dagger in her mother’s hand; instead, her surroundings vanished, replaced by the haunting image of the very same dagger plunged into the neck of a deformed figure lying on a blood-soaked carpet.

Steel. Blood. Flesh.

The nightmare transformed into a horrifying reality before her eyes, as if she had been transported back to that dreadful room at night. But this time, she did not lose consciousness. This time, she was not so lucky.

Time and space seemed to freeze at that moment, neither moving forward nor repeating, just suspended in place.

With a heavy thud, Jessica’s small body fell backward onto the floor, her trembling arms slowly reaching for her tear-filled face. Her legs moved involuntarily, as if trying to propel herself away from the horrifying image. But something stopped her progress, her back slamming into a hard surface—the unyielding wall.

“Jessica?!” Meren’s voice reverberated in Jessica’s mind. But when Jessica forced her eyes open, she found herself face-to-face with the charred corpse, its scarred lips parting.

“Nooooo!” she screamed.

The lifeless figure rolled onto its stomach and extended its arms toward Jessica, crawling closer, its fingers clawing through the crimson-stained carpet. Its one eye, the other hidden beneath layers of scar tissue, fixed its vacant gaze on her in the room’s darkness. When it finally reached her, its skeletal hands seized her shoulders and shook her.

“What is wrong with you!?” a hint of concern trembled in its voice, though hidden beneath the overwhelming terror Jessica felt.

In front of her, the abomination’s face loomed — an eye that refused to focus, two empty holes where a nose should have been, thin, nearly nonexistent lips that converged at the corners, dark liquid oozing from the gaps. In the dim light, it resembled black water, but it was unmistakably blood, gushing upward from the wound in its neck.

Steel. Blood. Flesh. Darkness.

The young girl screamed uncontrollably, her body shivering as she desperately tried to escape the vice-like grip that held her in place. But the wall was behind her, the floor beneath her, the abomination ahead, and its hands on either side. She was trapped, her sweat-soaked body flailing helplessly. Her eyes remained tightly shut, yet the haunting visage pursued her even behind her closed eyelids.

Grey. Crimson. Pink. Black.

And then came the light, followed by an anguished scream.

This time, Meren reacted swiftly, instinctively backing away as the familiar pain triggered her mind to relive a moment she had tried to bury, albeit in vain. She faltered, her scorched hands lifted defensively in front of her eyes, the burned and blistered skin a painful sight. It was as if she had thrust her hands into a blazing fire, and in a sense, that’s precisely what she had done. Between the gaps of her fingers, an intense, searing light pierced through.

A flame, as large as a grown human, flickered to life on the floor before her. A small shadow sat at its center, like the wick of a candle. The source of the fire — Jessica — was enveloped by it, her clothes disintegrating in the intense heat, devoured by the relentless flames that danced upon her writhing body.

Meren stood in shock. Throughout her time in the hospital, she had reflected on the incident, forming her own theories. She had been prepared to save her daughter if such a situation ever recurred. But instead of the natural maternal instinct to rush to Jessica’s aid, a frigid layer of fear encapsulated the remnants of love and care within her, freezing them in place. Her wide brown eyes, initially filled with shock, now betrayed an overwhelming fear. A fear of her own child.

That fear gripped her, taking hold and refusing to let go, much like a burning fire gradually consumes its fuel. In silence, she watched as the girl burned. Her youngest daughter, Melody, ran toward the commotion, her slight form pressed tightly against Meren’s chest, hiding her from the horrific spectacle. Tears welled in the child’s eyes, forming wet streaks on her dress.

The flames continued their relentless dance. Everything that could burn was moved aside, and the fire, seeking new sources, was isolated.

Meren would not allow anything to happen this time. Her hands, bloody and trembling, held her youngest close, her warmth combating the coldness within her heart. But instead of melting in the face of the fiery spectacle, another layer of ice formed, and then another. The fire outside seemed to burn for an eternity, while the ice within her continued to grow endlessly.

Jessica’s body burned on the ground, her family standing helplessly at a distance, their faces etched with fear and despair. She screamed for someone to help, to save her, to hold her, to reassure her that everything would be alright. But she was alone. Alone with her fire.

Flames of solitude. Lonely and abandoned. In the absence of companionship, the flames crackled, sending sparks flying in a desperate attempt to grasp something beyond their reach. And then, after a while, the fire ceased its dangerous dance, gradually calming down. The searing heat that had once danced with the flames returned to its source — a trembling girl.

The fire was gone. And so was her consciousness.

Meren and Melody watched over the sleeping girl. Her calm, rhythmic breathing gave no indication of the horrors they had just witnessed. She appeared almost like a sleeping princess awaiting a gentle awakening. The ground beneath her scorched figure had turned black.

When she eventually awoke, steel, flesh, and blood were all gone.

Only darkness surrounded her.