Marilyn weakly stood up from the old bed, her lips parted as she sang a song, running her finger on the edge of the dagger.
Blood droplets landed on the ground.
As her velvety voice reverberated in the prison cell, the guards outside fell into a state of deep slumber.
She glanced at the full moon.
Today, her son would be visiting her.
Marilyn stopped singing.
The blood droplets started sparkling as they formed a star-shaped altar.
She stepped inside it and brought the knife closer to her wrist.
She had to find the mystery behind this child.
How did he survive? Even if he did, how could he torment her through her own spell?
It should have tormented him to some extent but why was she in so much pain?
Marilyn closed her eyes and whispered the chants.
The dagger in her hand started flying in the air before it approached her wrist.