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I can no longer hesitate. I sprint through the hallways, desperate to find her, my young legs pushing me faster than I've ever run before. I try to focus on her voice as it bounces off the walls, hoping it will guide me to her location.
"Mom, I'm coming!" I pant, my breath heavy from exertion and fear. My mind races, trying to imagine what evil has found its way into our home. An intruder? A traitor?
As I rush down the corridor, I notice a door slightly ajar. A flicker of hope surges through me—could she be in there?
"Please, Dario, my son…he needs me…" My Mom's voice is barely audible now, choked with tears. The desperation in her tone brings a lump to the back of my throat.
I look around myself with agony, hoping to find something, anything, that can act as a weapon. I see a bunch of umbrellas and walking sticks in a basket by the bookshelf and grab one.
Suddenly, her cries are no more. The abrupt silence fills me with dread. What just happened? Did someone hurt her?
I press myself against the wall, my heart pounding so hard I think it might burst from my chest. Then, I hear it—the ominous thud of falling weight. Panic washes over me. I fight back tears, refusing to let them fall, holding my umbrella tighter.
The door creaks open, and a shadowy figure emerges from the room. I hold my breath, praying they won't see me as I press myself in the shadows of a towering bookshelf.
The figure passes in the other direction without noticing me. Although I try, I can't catch a glimpse of their face.
As soon as the figure disappears around the corner, I muster the courage to enter the room. "Mom?" I whisper, my voice shaking, pushing the door open with a soft creak.
The room is eerily quiet, save for the howling wind that rushes through an open window, bringing a chill to the air. Thunder rumbles in the distance as lightning flashes, casting silvery light on the marbled floors of the mansion.
Each bolt illuminates the scene before me in short bursts of brilliant, terrifying flashes.
"Mom!" I call out again, louder this time, hoping against hope that she'll answer.
But there's no response. The room remains deathly still, leaving me to choke down the growing panic that threatens to consume me.
"Please, Mom," I plead under my breath, crossing the room with cautious steps. "Where are you?"
My eyes dart around the space in search of any sign of her, but all I find are shattered remnants of our once-happy life—broken furniture, torn family photos, and the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air.
So, she was here.
As another flash of lightning illuminates the room, I spot something glinting on the floor near the window. Cautiously, I approach, my heart pounding in my chest.
The open window looms before me. Blood-soaked window panes glisten as raindrops mix with crimson liquid, and I take a step back in fear, almost falling back.
My mind races with thoughts of what might have happened to my Mom and my knees and hands begin to shake.
Suddenly, a flash of lightning illuminates a pool of blood on the floor next to the window. My breath catches in my throat as I stare down at the gruesome sight, shock and confusion washing over me, as torrential as rain outside.
Whose blood is this? My Mom's screams return in my mind, haunting me again.
"Mom…no," I choke out, tears welling up in my eyes. I force myself to look away from the blood, my gaze falling on a glint of gold in the mess. It's her locket – the one she always wears around her neck, the one that holds pictures of our family inside.
I pick it up carefully, my fingers trembling as I clutch the cherished token. The cold metal feels heavy in my hand, and I can't help but think of how it must have been ripped from her neck, a brutal witness of the violence that took place in this room.
Panic claws at my chest as I realize that I'm running out of time—I need to find her, and fast.
"Please, Mom…where are you?" I cry, tears now streaming down my face, my voice barely audible above the roar of the storm.
Fighting back the urge to break down in tears, I force myself to focus on what needs to be done. There's no time for fear or despair—I need to stay strong, for her sake and mine.
With a deep breath, I pocket the locket and step toward the window to look out. What if she, my childlike heart prays, escaped through here?
Suddenly, a deafening alarm blares throughout the mansion, and my heart leaps into my throat. The sound is both terrifying and electrifying—a signal that our security system has been breached, and danger is imminent.
"Shit!" I curse under my breath, realizing this means that whoever attacked my Mom could still be inside the compound, lurking in the shadows. The storm outside roars with renewed fury.
