Chapter 6
1851words
On our way back from berry picking yesterday afternoon, something happened that still makes my blood run cold.
Around 4 PM, we were heading back from the forest. Anna walked ahead, her white dress swaying in the breeze like something from a fairy tale. I followed, feeling genuinely happy—spending an afternoon with such a beautiful, elegant woman had felt dreamlike.
Jack walked beside me, carrying his basket of berries.
I noticed he'd been unusually quiet since leaving the forest, occasionally glancing at Anna with a complex expression I couldn't decipher—some mixture of awe, fear, and what seemed like pity.
While the others walked ahead chatting, I lowered my voice. "Jack, when exactly did Anna move here? I don't remember her from childhood."
Jack's steps faltered momentarily. He glanced ahead nervously, ensuring Anna couldn't hear us. "Michael, do you really want to know?"
"Of course I do. We're childhood friends, right?"
His expression turned strange, his eyes darting around as if weighing whether to speak. After a long pause, he whispered: "She... she was born from the womb of the dead."
I was completely stunned. "What? Jack, what the hell does that mean?"
Hearing my voice rise, Jack frantically gestured for me to be quiet, his face draining of color. He glanced around nervously, then waved his hands dismissively: "Nothing! I was just joking! Forget I said anything!"
"Are you joking?" I stared hard into his eyes. "That's not funny, Jack. And you definitely didn't look like you were joking."
"I was totally joking!" He forced a smile so stiff it looked painful. "Don't you remember? In our village, we have this... this expression for beautiful girls. We say they're 'so beautiful they can't be human, more like angels.' That's all I meant!"
But his eyes kept darting around, never meeting mine. He was terrified—that much was obvious.
"Jack, we've been friends since we were kids. Why won't you tell me the truth? What did you really mean?"
"Michael, listen," he suddenly grabbed my arm, his voice desperate. "Some things... some things are better left unknown. Just enjoy her beauty and don't dig deeper."
His words left me more confused and unsettled. What did he mean by "don't dig deeper"? "Enjoy her beauty"? It sounded like he was hinting at some terrible secret—some truth too horrific to face.
"But Jack—"
"DON'T ASK!" he nearly shouted, then quickly lowered his voice, glancing ahead. "Michael, trust me—some things you're better off not knowing. Just pretend this conversation never happened, okay? Please!"
Seeing his agitation and panic, I realized pushing further would only make things worse. But his cryptic warning only fed the growing doubts in my mind.
For the rest of the walk, Jack remained silent. The looks he gave Anna were filled with complex, unreadable emotions. Anna seemed completely oblivious to our conversation, maintaining her sweet smile and occasionally turning back to say something charming that made my heart skip.
At dusk, we emerged from the forest back into the village. The setting sun painted the sky in shades of gold and crimson, like a masterpiece.
Anna walked slightly ahead, the sunset backlighting her silhouette. Her hair fluttered in the evening breeze, her white dress becoming almost transparent in the golden light. She looked breathtakingly beautiful—like an angel descended from heaven.
She turned back and smiled. In the sunset glow, her face was impossibly beautiful, like a Renaissance painting of the Madonna.
But in that instant, a horrifying image flashed through my mind—the corpse of a woman lying within that circle of stone hands from my childhood.
That dead woman had also possessed golden hair and angelic features. Though lifeless, her face had worn a strangely peaceful expression, her lips curved in a faint, mysterious smile...
"Michael? What's wrong?" Anna asked with concern. "You've gone completely pale."
"It's nothing," I said quickly, pushing away the disturbing memory. "Just tired from all the walking."
"Then you should rest early," she said gently. "If tomorrow's weather is nice, we could walk to the small lake south of the village. The scenery there is stunning—I think you'd love it."
"Sure, I'd like that." But as I spoke, my voice sounded strange and distant, as if it belonged to someone else.
After saying goodbye, I returned alone to my assigned house. Sitting in the yard, staring at the distant mountains silhouetted against the darkening sky, my mind churned with unease.
Jack's words kept repeating in my head: "She was born from the womb of the dead..."
What could that possibly mean? Why had he panicked after saying it? Why warn me not to dig deeper? And why, when I saw Anna's silhouette against the sunset, did I suddenly remember that mutilated corpse from my childhood?
What I'm about to share fills me with profound shame, but for the sake of complete honesty, I must record it.
Around eleven that night, after washing up, I fell quickly into sleep. Then she appeared again. This time, the dream setting was entirely different. I stood in an ancient church surrounded by hundreds of burning candles, their flickering flames casting dancing shadows on stone walls. The air was heavy with some ancient incense—both sacred and unsettling.
"Michael..."
That familiar voice came from the altar. I turned to see "her" walking slowly toward me.
But this time, her face was perfectly clear.
My God—her face was identical to Anna's! The same golden hair, the same deep blue eyes, the same exquisite features... If not for a subtle difference in expression, I would have sworn it was Anna herself.
She wore an antique white wedding gown with layers of lace and tulle—museum-quality in its craftsmanship. The dress trailed behind her, whispering against the stone floor as she moved. A long white veil covered her head, shimmering in the candlelight like something from a medieval painting.
"You finally see my face..." she said with a soft laugh, her voice sweet as heavenly music. "You... are you Anna?" I asked, my voice trembling.
"I am Anna, and yet I am not Anna," she continued approaching. "I am the beauty you most desire, and the truth you most fear."
As she reached me, she slowly extended her hands.
Then I witnessed the most horrifying sight of my life—not just two hands, but countless arms extending from every part of her body! From shoulders, back, waist—ivory-white limbs reached out in all directions, each exquisitely formed, with every line and detail perfectly visible.
These arms swayed slowly like seaweed in ocean currents—terrifying yet hypnotically beautiful.
"Don't be afraid, my love..." she whispered, as those pale hands began caressing my face, neck, chest... The sensation was simultaneously horrifying and mesmerizing. Each hand was unnaturally soft and warm, their touch like heated ivory against my skin, gradually eroding my sanity.
"Who are you really?" I struggled to maintain clarity. "Tell me your true identity!"
She didn't answer, just continued her unsettling caresses. More hands reached out—some stroking my hair, others trailing down my spine, several brushing across my waist... Each touch triggered intense physical responses I'd never experienced before.
"Answer me!" I demanded, though my voice shook uncontrollably.
She leaned close and whispered in my ear, "Do you truly want to know? Then let your body discover the answer..."
Then she began to kiss me.
God, that feeling... I'd never experienced such intense pleasure. Her lips were soft as silk, warm as spring sunshine, while those countless hands continued exploring my body, setting every inch of skin on fire, every nerve ending trembling...
My rational mind screamed that this was wrong—that she might be some malevolent entity—but my body's response was beyond my control. I felt consumed by an irresistible force, caught between absolute terror and overwhelming desire...
"Michael... give yourself to me completely..." she whispered, her voice an enchanting spell.
Just as I was about to surrender completely, I jerked awake.
It was past 3 AM. Moonlight streamed through the window across my bed. I was drenched in sweat, my heart hammering, my mind in chaos. Then I realized something that made me want to die of shame—my underwear was soaked.
"Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!" I cursed myself silently.
A grown man in his twenties, and I'd had a wet dream like some hormonal teenager! What made it worse was that the object of my desire might not even be human!
I sat on the edge of the bed, head in hands, utterly mortified. Reason and desire waged war in my mind, leaving me confused about what to believe or fear.
What disturbed me most was that when I tried to recall the woman's specific features, they began to blur again—as if some force was actively preventing me from remembering her face clearly.
I sat there until dawn, analyzing every possibility, but the more I thought, the more confused I became. The only certainty was that I needed to uncover the truth, no matter how horrifying it might be.
At six-thirty, I finally got up to deal with my shameful laundry. Just as I was carrying it to the backyard well—
"Good morning, Michael."
My blood instantly turned to ice.
I turned slowly to see Anna standing outside the gate, dressed in white, looking angelic in the morning light.
Her smile was as pure and sweet as ever, her eyes clear as mountain springs.
"You... why are you here so early?" My voice shook as I tried to hide the laundry behind my back.
"I always walk early. I saw movement in your yard as I passed and thought I'd say hello," Anna said, blinking innocently—a gesture so adorable it hurt.
"Did you sleep well? Any interesting dreams?" The question felt like a knife to my heart.
"It was... fine," I stammered, trying to sound casual. "How about you?"
"I slept wonderfully and had such a beautiful dream," she said with a sweet smile, her cheeks flushing slightly.
"I dreamed of... never mind. You might think me strange if I told you." The word "dream" made my blood run cold.
She had dreamed too? What had she dreamed about?
Looking at her face now, scenes from my dream flashed through my mind—those countless pale hands, those spine-tingling touches, that kiss that had completely undone me...
"Michael? Is something wrong?"
Anna asked with concern. "You look pale. Are you feeling ill?"
"No... I'm fine. Just didn't sleep well," I forced a smile. "Let me clean up, and we can talk later, okay?"
"Of course," Anna nodded understandingly. "Don't forget about our lake visit today. If you're not feeling well, we can always postpone."
"No need to postpone. I'm fine."
"Let's meet by the old locust tree in the village center at two," she said with that sweet smile. "I'll prepare some snacks for our picnic. See you then!"
Watching her graceful departure, my emotions became impossibly tangled.
My intuition screamed that I was heading toward an inescapable abyss, yet perversely, I felt nothing but anticipation...
