Can love triumph over all—even catatonic depression? Can love defeat everything—even a diabolical evil?
A new bride suffering from catatonia. A determined husband trying to break through the black pit in which her brain escaped to. And a ruthless abomination who will stop at nothing to tear them apart.
Melvin and Erica are childhood sweethearts. Theirs is a love nurtured through the years. Everything is perfect. They are on the road to their happily ever after. Until their love is put to a series of tests: trials of fire.
Erica is brutally assaulted, left for dead but miraculously survives. Undeterred, they go through with their wedding. But an unwanted outcome and an unexpected memory of the assault push Erica to the edge. Her mind switches off. She becomes catatonic.
Armed with only his unwavering love for her, Melvin strives to unlock her mind and bring her back to him.
But what if the key to her brain opens up a Pandora’s box, unraveling a hideous truth about the crime which they mistakenly thought was solved? Will they be able to accept it—or survive it?
Eight Weeks Ago
From the darkest corner of the tiny room, I exhaled a long, weary sigh. The ear-splitting screams have died down to soft whimpers, thank goodness. Whereas moments ago, my eardrums had almost exploded at the high-pitched cries interspersed with wild laughter and grunts, now the pounding sensation inside my ears was all but gone. The faint sounds which drifted to me now were like the piercing meows of a gasping, frightened furball.
Flashes of snow white fur, emerald eyes, and a black, broom-like tail invaded my mind. Toby. Our pet cat. One look at him at an animal shelter and it was love at first sight. He was perfection. We brought him home. Fed him. Put him to bed. Tickled his chin. Played with him. Took care of him. Gave him everything a cat can ever want. Then he just went up and about and knocked up a passing feline who came from nowhere. Next thing I knew, Toby had installed her inside my house, revolting belly and all. I didn’t want her. I didn’t want the kittens that were growing inside her. I only wanted Toby. Just Toby.
I fished out again my vintage pocket watch, flicked it open and glanced at the time. It had been almost thirty minutes. Surely, they were done now? How long did they have to keep at this? Were they not getting tired? I shuddered in disgust.
Standing up from my seat, I made sure my face is hidden, swallowed under my black hood. Once again, as I have done many times over the past hour, I curled my nose, hating the smell of liquor, cigarettes, and bad breath. The old, rusty air-conditioning unit served to intensify the horrible stench instead of covering it. The room was illuminated only by the light coming from under the bathroom door to my left. But even in the darkness, I was able to make out their shadowy figures.
I rapped my knuckles three times on the wall. They abruptly stopped. They turned their covered heads at me in unison. I was reminded of the movie with hooded figures performing a dark ritual. They cleared a path at the center, giving me a glimpse of what they have done. As if I wanted to see the result of their hard work. Of course, I didn’t. I only stayed to make sure they got to do it right. Just the way I wanted to.