Mabel.My eyes opened and fell upon a young boy, probably around six years old, his brown eyes reflecting excitement.“You are awake?” He askedI stared around the room; the architecture and decor were entirely different from those at Red Fangs. It was obvious I was no longer there.“Sister Cora, she has woken up,” he shouted, dashing out of the room.I stared at my hands; my pulse quickened as I noticed there was no sign of trauma—no scars, no wounds.A young girl entered, holding a small bowl. a wide smile plastered on her face. She seemed even happier than I was to see me alive.“Drink this,” she said, handing it to me.I smelled it before taking it, but it had no smell.“You have to take it to regain your strength," she said, still smiling, urging me to drink it.As soon as it hit my taste buds with its bitterness, I spat it out.“Yeah, it’s very bitter, but it’s medicinal,” she stated, combing her black hair with her hand, revealing a tattoo. My heartbeat hiked as I recognized it
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