Chapter 7

• With urgency coursing through her veins, Dahlia leapt from her bed and hastily discarded her clothes, uncertain of what they bore—blood, ash, sweat? Without a moment's hesitation, she dashed into the bathroom just before her mother could step into her room. It was unmistakable that her mother must have heard her screams.
• Suddenly, another scream wrenched itself from deep within her as she found the bathroom mirror once again stained with blood. This time, the writing was different and disturbingly fresh, the crimson fluid trickling down the glass.
• "Hell is waving for you!."
• Her hands trembled violently at the sight. It wasn't long before her mother entered the bathroom, her face paling as she beheld the gruesome scene.
• "Oh, my God." Her mother leaned closer, taking a cautious sniff of the air. "It's blood. Whose blood is this, Dahlia?" She promptly began to ask the pressing questions.
• Still shaken, Dahlia rubbed her backside as she slowly rose from the cold, tiled floor. "I don't know, and I can't endure this sick joke any longer," she replied firmly, wrapping herself in a robe. Unlike last time, when she had wiped away the writing, she was determined to confront this ominous message head-on.
• Realizing the gravity of the situation, she called the police immediately, a step she should have taken earlier. She was certain that her friends, especially Hessa, were not involved in this torment. If it was her father orchestrating these twisted games, then she would make sure the police would uncover the truth.
• The Hamilton Police Department dispatched two officers to her home while Dahlia continued to tremble with fear, recalling the horrifying experiences of the past night. This felt like an elaborate and sickening joke, and whoever was behind it was undoubtedly unhinged.
• But why?
• "Why me?" Dahlia pondered in despair, feeling a wave of fear wash over her mother, who stood before her, still dressed in her work uniform. "I just came home just a minute ago," her mother whispered, her voice barely more than a tremor.
• "Did you see anyone?" Dahlia inquired quietly, her eyes darting to the officers who were busy examining the blood smeared across her bathroom mirror.
• "No, I didn't see anyone," her mother replied, worry etching lines into her face. "How long has this been happening?" She gripped Dahlia's elbow tightly, her expression turning grave.
• As an unsettling chill ran down Dahlia's spine, she stuttered, "Since last night. There was something else written, but the message was similar."
• "Is everything okay, Dahlia?"
• Dahlia shook her head, her gaze locked onto a blank wall as waves of frustration coursed through her. "I don't know, Mom."
• The nightmare she had experienced was one of the most horrific she had ever encountered. The vividness had felt overwhelmingly real, far too intense to be dismissed as mere fantasy. Thoughts of the woman, the faceless man, the crying baby, and the ominous tree flooded her mind, causing her to shudder once again. Desperate to escape, she bolted from her room in search of fresh air.
• As she exited, the officers were just finishing their examination, emerging from her room after collecting the blood samples and inspecting the door locks. One of the officers approached her, his demeanor serious. "The doors show no signs of forced entry," he stated, raising his hand to reveal the blood they had gathered. "Based on the scent, we can confirm it's fresh blood from a rogue. We'll run some tests to determine the exact identity of the individual it belongs to."
• Dahlia's stomach twisted and burned at the sight of the blood before her, and the nausea threatened to overwhelm her. All she wanted was to retch.
• "Why would anyone do this?" she sighed heavily, grappling with the implications of such a disturbing discovery.
• "Given that you mentioned this isn't the first occurrence, it seems clear that someone is seeking revenge. If you're comfortable, we can bring this to the attention of the Beta-"
• "No, no!" Dahlia interrupted, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. "Please, don't tell him."
• She understood all too well the consequences that would follow if her father became aware of this troubling situation.
• "All right, Miss, we will conduct tests on this sample along with the other swabs we have collected. We hope to uncover the truth quickly. However, should you require police protection, we may need to consult higher authorities," the officer explained, his tone serious.
• The mention of "higher authorities" sent a shiver down Dahlia's spine—she knew it meant bringing the Beta into the situation.
• "No, no, that won't be necessary. It's fine now. Thank you for your assistance," Dahlia replied, trying to dismiss the anxiety that gripped her.
• The officer nodded in understanding as he and his partner made their way toward the door. As soon as they left, she leaned against the door, squeezing her eyes shut and taking a deep breath to steady herself. Her mother approached, wrapping her arms around her in a comforting embrace. Concern was etched across her face, her eyes scanning Dahlia for answers.
• "I shouldn't have called them..." Dahlia murmured, burying her face into her mother's chest. The warmth radiating from her mother provided solace amidst the chaos swirling in her mind.
• "No, darling, it was right to do so," her mother reassured her.
• "I just hope they won't tell Dad," Dahlia said, her voice trailing off as her gaze fell to the floor, becoming blank and unfocused.
• "I'm sure they won't," her mother replied with a degree of confidence.
• Dahlia's thoughts turned dark as she recalled how her father had always been obsessed with her mother—yet not in a loving way. He exerted control over her, subjecting her to physical and emotional abuse throughout their marriage. After their separation, he harassed her incessantly, issuing death threats if she refused to return to him. After countless arguments and confrontations, they settled into a tenuous separation; her father was adamantly against finalizing the divorce.
• Though the separation had initially been beneficial for her mother, there were still days when he would barge in, unleashing his rage not just on her, but on Dahlia as well. Although it had become less frequent since he had started seeing another woman, she feared that the day would soon come when he would return and once again attempt to dominate her mother's life.
• "I'll prepare a quick breakfast. You should get ready and head off to school," her mother's soft voice broke through Dahlia's turbulent thoughts, standing out in stark contrast to the threatening chaos from earlier.
• Slowly, Dahlia regained her footing, making her way to her room, which now felt more daunting than ever. Splashing some warm water on her face invigorated her senses. For several long moments, she studied her reflection in the mirror, observing the dark circles forming beneath her eyes, a testament to both the sleepless night and the chaotic day that lay ahead.