Chapter 3

Erika gave Caleb some medicine and stayed by his side for a while longer before finally leaving the room.

What she failed to notice was a small patch of rash that had developed on the arm Caleb had been scratching.

The next morning, Caleb's blood-curdling scream shattered the peace of the estate. Marcus and Erika bolted up from their bed, sprinting straight into his room.

Caleb was sitting on his bed in terror, pointing frantically at his body. "Mom! Dad! Look! What is this?"

Large, purplish splotches covered his arms, his chest, and even his face. The rash had clustered together into horrific, sickening patches.

"It's itching so badly! It hurts!" He clawed at himself frantically, but the harder he scratched, the faster the dark blotches spread across his skin.

Erika, as a top cardiothoracic surgeon, recognized what it was in an instant. Her face drained of all color.

"Hyperacute rejection... No way!" she muttered, her eyes wide with disbelief. "How is it possible? The match was perfect. I conducted the tests myself."

"What rejection? Save me!" Caleb cried out.

As soon as the words left his mouth, a purpuric patch of skin on his arm suddenly ruptured, oozing a trickling stream of blackened blood.

His skin was beginning to rot.

"Ahhh! My body is rotting! I'm turning into a monster!" Caleb looked at his decaying flesh, thrashing around the bed in agonizing, beast-like wails.

The once handsome, arrogant boy was now transforming into a rotting mess right before their eyes.

"I... I'm calling 911!"

"No!"

Erika snatched the phone right out of his hand and slammed it furiously onto the floor, shattering the screen into pieces.

"We can't go to the hospital! Otherwise, we're finished!" The sanity in her bloodshot eyes was utterly consumed by madness. "I am the specialist! I can save him! I know I can!"

Dragging and hauling, the two of them forced Caleb back down into the subterranean operating room. Erika pulled various expensive immunosuppressants from the cabinet, injecting massive doses directly into Caleb's body.

Yet, it was useless.

The tissue rejection swallowed Caleb's vitality with terrifying speed, his agonizing shrieks echoing throughout the house.

...

At school, Bruno had been unable to reach me for days. He recalled Erika's bizarre claim about me, but the more he thought about it, the more suspicious it felt.

Bruno knew exactly what kind of girl I was: timid, introverted, and deeply insecure. I barely even dared to speak loudly to boys, so how could I run off with some guy?

Besides, the college entrance exam was right around the corner. Given my character, I would never abandon my future just like this.

The more Bruno pondered it, the more uneasy he felt. Finally, he picked up the phone and dialed the police.

"Hello? I'd like to file a report. One of my students, Emily Buckley, has been missing. I suspect... something terrible has happened to her. Her parents are acting strangely!"

Down in the basement, a thick, putrid stench of decay began to radiate from Caleb's body.

Looking into the reflective mirror inside the operating room, he caught sight of his own face, which no longer resembled anything human. His sanity snapped entirely.

"It's Emily! Her ghost is taking revenge on me! She's killing me!" he shrieked at the top of his lungs.

Marcus and Erika froze, struck silent by his outburst. For a moment, they didn't know what to do.

Just as the family was spiraling into chaos, consumed by desperation and terror, an urgent chime from the doorbell echoed sharply throughout the estate.

Marcus flinched violently, scrambling on hands and knees to the front door. He peered through the peephole and saw two uniformed police officers standing outside, their expressions dead serious.

Through the heavy oak door, one officer's stern voice carried in clearly.

"This is the police department's Homicide Division. We received a report about Emily Buckley missing. Please, open the door and cooperate with our investigation!"

The moment the officer finished speaking, another agonized scream echoed from the basement.

The family was in turmoil, and there was nowhere left for them to run.

I looked at my parents' ashen faces and sneered.