Mary Appears!

As Susan's consciousness fluttered back to the realm of the living, a gentle lucidity enveloped her, revealing that, though her inner self remained unscathed, the scars and bruises that adorned her skin whispered tales of battles recently fought. Despite the cocoon of healing that had been her sanctuary for days, the external marks of her trials had yet to fade. With a resolve that belied her delicate frame, she attempted to rise, only to find gravity an unyielding foe; she collapsed with a soft thud upon the cool, forgiving ground.

Yet, within Susan's eyes, there burned a fierce determination, an indomitable spirit that seemed untouched by her physical ailments. Shaking, her arms bore the weight of her aspirations, and with a fortitude that drew breaths of awe from us, she commenced her arduous journey toward us, each step a testament to her resilience.

Observing her, a mix of admiration and unease twined within me. Was it possible that Susan's desperate endeavor to reach us was fueled by a desire to flee from unseen shackles? Holding back the protective instincts of the woman beside me, I advanced, extending a hand to ease Susan's plight. To my astonishment, she rejected my aid with a vehement push, her eyes locked on a figure behind me, her movements imbued with a purpose that left me momentarily stunned.

My heart raced with anxiety for Susan, yet before I could intervene, she had already embraced the woman, her cries slicing through the air with a vulnerability that laid bare her tormented soul.

"Mary, at last, you've come...I...Cristina's gone, and I nearly followed her into the abyss...you promised...you said it would be safe," Susan's voice broke, a flood of grief and betrayal spilling from her lips.

Her words, though fragmented, were a beacon for our attention. I exchanged a glance with Shawn, finding his gaze equally fixed on Susan, a silent vow passing between us to unearth the truth lurking beneath her despair.

However, just as Susan teetered on the cusp of revelation, Mary interjected with a soothing calmness, "Fear not, Susan. All is not as it seems. You're safe now, as am I. What befell Cristina was a cruel twist of fate, nothing more. Let not your heart be troubled. Rest now, and in time, all will be mended."

With a maternal gentleness, Mary coaxed Susan into her embrace, whispering comforts until her eyes closed in reluctant surrender, her spirit finally finding solace in the promise of protection.

Only when Susan was tenderly returned to her bed did Mary face us, her smile tinged with an awkward grace, "Greetings, I am Mary."

So, this enigmatic savior was Mary, the very one we'd sought amidst shadows and uncertainties. Yet, as she stood before us, a myriad of questions unfurled in our minds. Shawn and I shared a silent accord, our instincts sharpened by the mysteries that wove around Mary like a cloak. She, like Susan, harbored secrets, shadows that danced just beyond our grasp, hinting at truths intertwined with their fates—and perhaps, Cristina's as well.

In the tapestry of their stories, hidden threads awaited our unraveling, suggesting that the secrets they held were not just their own but shared among them, each bearing a piece of a puzzle that, once assembled, would reveal a narrative steeped in love, loss, and the unyielding strength of the human spirit.

In the dimly lit corridor outside the ward, I beckoned Mary away from prying ears, my voice devoid of any attempt at cordiality. "Mary, I must know—what dark tide claimed the life of your dear friend Cristina and thrust Susan into the throes of peril?"

Mary's demeanor remained an enigma, her composure as unyielding as the stone walls that surrounded us. With a glance that harbored a storm, she turned her gaze towards the window, her silence a fortress I seemed ill-equipped to breach.

I braced myself for the silence to continue its reign when, unexpectedly, Mary's voice, laced with a quiet resolve, shattered the stillness. "Your endeavors are in vain. My secrets are mine to keep." Her eyes, a tempest of emotions, then flickered towards Shawn, who remained unseen within the ward. "Your friend, the officer—neither of you will pry from me what I wish to keep buried."

Mary's insights hinted at a past entwined with shadows and schemes, a puzzle far from completion. Doubt clouded my thoughts, not just for the task at hand but for the enigmatic figure Shawn presented—his authority masked by an unassuming guise.

Attempting to veil my growing unease, I prodded further, "If you're aware of his duty, then surely you understand the importance of speaking out. Was it not a lesson imparted to you in youth—to seek justice, to voice the truth?"

My words, intended to disarm, instead ignited a flame within Mary. "Speak of childhood? Spare me the sanctimony!" Her outcry, a burst of raw emotion, revealed a chasm of pain. Collapsing under the weight of memories best forgotten, she cradled her head, a figure marred by turmoil.

In the silence that followed, her voice, fragile yet clear, emerged from the shadows of her despair. "There's no solace in the arms of the law for this sorrow," she whispered before fleeing into the refuge of solitude.

Turning, I found Shawn, his presence unbeknownst to me, a silent witness to our exchange.

"What now? Is there a path forward?" I inquired, the weight of our quest heavy in the air, our next steps shrouded in the mysteries that entwined Mary, Cristina, and Susan—a trio bound by a tale of love, loss, and a lingering hope for redemption.

As the twilight deepened, casting long shadows through the hospital corridors, Shawn's gaze met mine, a flicker of resolve shining within. "Indeed, there might be a way," he mused, his voice threading through the dimness with a hint of hope.

In his care, Susan's haven had been fortified with an enchantment—a bastion against the spectral menace that sought to breach her peace. Though not an impenetrable shield, it was a ward strong enough to delay the advances of the crimson specter, affording us precious moments to intervene.

The toll of our vigil was evident in Shawn's weary stance, a testament to his unwavering dedication. With Mary's arrival bringing a new guardian for Susan, Shawn proposed a reprieve, urging me to seek the solace of our dormitory, allowing him too to retreat into the respite he so desperately needed.

The assurance of our protective measures seemed to weave a spell of tranquility over Mary and Susan, their spirits lightened, a semblance of peace gracing their features.

The night unfolded quietly until Mary, enveloped in a shroud of solitude, ventured to the public washroom. A sudden darkness engulfed her sanctuary, the lights flickering out, leaving her enveloped in an oppressive silence. The soft glow of her mobile phone pierced the darkness, a lone beacon amidst the encroaching shadows.

Yet, as Mary stepped back into the corridor, her heart seized with terror at the sight that greeted her—a figure draped in tattered red, its visage obscured by a veil of unkempt hair, its presence an omen of dread.

A chilling laughter sliced through the air, driving Mary to the brink of despair. With her hands clasped over her ears, she retreated, her voice a whisper of denial, "This is not my burden to bear...not mine."

The ghostly apparition advanced, its intentions as unreadable as its faded features. In a moment of harrowing intimacy, a cold droplet from the specter's form touched Mary, a touch so chilling it sapped her strength, sending her tumbling into the abyss of unconsciousness.

As abruptly as the darkness had descended, the lights flickered back to life, dispelling the shadows. From the ether, a masculine voice declared, "Thats enough."