FLEMING

8

"We've all got both light and dark inside us. 

What matters is the part we choose to act on."

The wind was blowing outside, carrying with it a slight chill that seeped through the cracks in the windows of the house, whispering its presence with a soft and melodious murmur. The twilight's dim light filtered through the corners, creating an atmosphere of mystery and anticipation in the room. The dim glow of a lamp barely illuminated the place, casting dancing shadows on the walls that seemed to whisper forgotten secrets.

With slow and delicate steps, I walked out of the bathroom wrapped in an elegant robe of soft texture, carefully tied around my figure. In one hand, I held a white, pristine, freshly laundered towel, which I skillfully used to dry my hair, its delicate curls gently falling over the soft fabric. The events of the evening had left an exhausting trail on my being. My body, exhausted by the intensity of the experience, longed to surrender to the sweet embrace of rest in my cozy bed.

However, this was prevented when I saw Aemon entering the room with stealthy steps, holding a stack of documents in his hands. His malicious smile reflected the satisfaction he felt in carrying those papers that seemed so important. His eyes gleamed with a mix of excitement and wickedness, as if he were about to reveal a dark secret that would change our lives forever.

My eyes settled on that pile of files on the table, and my mind debated between rationality and curiosity. I found myself met with Aemon's expectant gaze, looking at me with an eagerness that made him appear like a little child about to open an exciting gift. Doubt and intrigue intertwined within me, as if I were about to cross a line that could lead us to the truth or plunge us into an abyss of no return.

"What is all this, Aemon?" I asked with a calculatedly calm tone, though my heart was pounding in my chest, echoing the mystery and tension of the moment.

Aemon slumped onto the couch in front of me, delicately laying out the documents. It was as if those sheets of paper were forbidden treasures that would unleash a whirlwind of chaos and revelations. His movements were precise, and his gaze fixed on the documents, as if he could extract hidden information from each printed word.

"This, my dear Hell, is the gateway to the darkest memories of the Psychiatric Center. It's the files of all the patients, including you and me," Aemon replied with a glint of wickedness in his eyes, as if he enjoyed the dangerous game we had embarked upon.

I furrowed my brow, feeling a knot in my stomach. Aemon had crossed a dangerous line by stealing those documents, and the consequences could be catastrophic. Uncertainty and fear intertwined within me, but I was also intrigued by what we might uncover in those forbidden files.

Part of me knew that we should stay away from those documents, that we should resist the temptation to delve into the depths of our past. But the twisted curiosity I shared with Aemon pushed me to embark on this unsettling journey into the unknown, ready to confront the truths that could change everything.

"I don't think it's wise to have this in our hands, Aemon. What if the police come after us?" I warned, trying to reason with him, although inside, the intrigue was beginning to take hold of my thoughts, and I felt drawn to the revelation of forgotten secrets.

Aemon let out a sinister laugh and shrugged with indifference, as if the consequences were nothing more than a game to him. The adrenaline and excitement of the unknown seemed to cloud his judgment and lead him into a kind of emotional trance.

"Don't worry, Fueguito. Forest is dead, and all incriminating evidence went to the grave with him. No one will suspect us," Aemon affirmed, as if this wicked game was an opportunity to satisfy his hunger for mystery and chaos, without considering the repercussions that might lurk in the darkness.