There are no grown men in our village, When girls turn 18, they participate in a coming of age ceremony in the ancestral hall.

After vomiting, I tried to catch my breath and look again. Lily’s body was unrecognizable. Her limbs were twisted at grotesque angles, as if they’d been contorted by forces beyond understanding. Dark marks and crimson stains covered her skin, and there were deep scratches, almost like claw marks, trailing down her arms and legs.

As I stumbled back, trembling, Grandma’s cold voice cut through my horror. “This is the fate of those who defy the village’s traditions,

,” she said, her gaze piercing

through me.

I couldn’t take my eyes off Lily’s face-or what was left of it. Her once bright eyes were now hollow, and her mouth was frozen in an expression of terror. I could almost hear her last scream echoing through the ancestral hall.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept seeing Lily’s broken body every time I closed my eyes. Questions swirled in my mind, relentless as a storm: Why had she died?

What truly happened in the ancestral hall?

And what was Grandma hiding?

Determined, I made a choice. I would uncover the village’s darkest secrets, no matter the cost.

The next day, I waited until nightfall to sneak back into the ancestral hall. The air was thick with incense, mingling with an underlying metallic scent that sent chills down my spine. In the dim light, I saw the same iron chains hanging from the pillars, swaying slightly as if recently disturbed.

Then I noticed something new—a small, hidden doorway at the back of the hall, obscured by heavy curtains. My heart pounded as I approached it, each step echoing louder in the empty hall.

Behind the door, a narrow staircase spiraled downward into darkness. Taking a deep breath, I descended, gripping the cold stone walls to steady myself. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint sound of dripping water.

At the bottom of the stairs, I entered a dimly lit chamber filled with ruby-colored stones embedded in the walls, glowing faintly in the darkness. And at the center of the room lay a bed crafted entirely of ruby, gleaming with a sinister beauty. But something else caught my eye-scattered around the bed were remnants of torn ceremonial robes, stained with blood.

Suddenly, a chilling voice echoed behind me. “Curiosity is a dangerous trait, Laura.”

I spun around to see Grandma standing at the entrance, her face twisted into a look of cold fury. Her frail appearance was gone; her eyes gleamed with a sharp, unnatural light, and her voice carried an authority that froze me in place.

“Did you really think you could unravel our secrets without consequence?” she asked, stepping closer, her shadow growing longer and darker.

I backed away, but my legs felt like they were rooted to the ground. Desperation surged within me, yet I couldn’t find the strength to move. Grandma stopped in front of the ruby bed, her gaze shifting to it with a look almost of reverence.

“Long ago, our ancestors made a pact with the spirit of the mountain. In exchange for eternal youth, we offer it sacrifices-young women, each one blessed with the vitality it craves,” she explained, her voice dripping with a twisted pride. “The ritual binds us to the mountain, grants us prosperity, and keeps us young… but only at a terrible cost.”

My heart sank as the truth settled over me like a shroud. The young women of our village- their flushed faces, the pain and joy they carried after the ceremony-they were all part of this cruel exchange. And Lily… she had become one of the mountain’s sacrifices.

“But… why? Why didn’t you tell us?” I choked out, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Grandma looked at me, her eyes hollow yet resolute. “Some truths are too heavy to bear. Just like you, Lily sought answers she wasn’t prepared to handle. Her fate should have been a warning.”

A sick realization dawned on me. If Grandma was willing to sacrifice her own granddaughter, then no one was safe. And if I wanted to escape this fate, I would have to fight.

“Tonight, Laura,” Grandma continued, her voice icy, “you too will take your place among the sacrifices.”

But as she stepped forward, I found my voice, steady and defiant. “No. I won’t let this happen. I won’t be your pawn.”

With a surge of strength, I turned and sprinted up the stairs, my feet pounding against the stone as Grandma’s furious voice echoed after me. The mountain spirit’s curse might bind the village, but I was determined to break free-or die trying.