“Huh… huh…”

  “Huh… huh…”

  The sound forced its way into Hanna’s awareness — rough, heavy, like the breathing of an animal far too close to her ear.

  She still couldn’t open her eyes, but her body was being moved. Hands were touching her, pulling, shifting her. The sensation made her heart race even though her mind was still half-drowned in darkness.

  What… was happening?

  Her eyes remained shut for a few seconds longer before she forced them open.

  Her vision blurred. The ceiling above her split into double, then triple images before slowly settling into something clearer. Several figures surrounded her — human shapes moving… too close… too many.

  “Ugh…”

  Hanna tried to lift her arm to push them away, but it wouldn’t move freely.

  Panic struck instantly when she realized her wrists were tied tightly to the ends of the bed.

  She tried to move her legs.

  The same.

  Bound. Held down hard.

  Fear surged into her chest.

  Then—

  A gentle touch brushed through her hair.

  Martha.

  The old woman stroked Hanna’s head slowly, like a grandmother soothing a frightened child.

  “Don’t worry…” her voice was soft, almost comforting. “I won’t hurt you. I only want perfect grandchildren. My sons… they’re all still pure. They’ve never touched a woman.”

  The words slipped into Hanna’s ears like poison — more venomous than the drink she’d swallowed earlier.

  Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes.

  “P-please… don’t…” her voice broke, weak, barely audible. “I… I’m begging you…”

  Martha smiled faintly, her old fingers still combing through Hanna’s hair.

  “My sons won’t hurt you. Just stay still… it’ll all be over quickly.”

  “Arghh!!”

  Hanna screamed, thrashing with every bit of strength she had. Her body arched against the restraints, muscles straining despite her exhaustion.

  “Let me go! Let me go… please…!” Her voice dissolved into panicked sobs, breath ragged, eyes darting wildly around the room for an escape that didn’t exist.

  But the bindings didn’t loosen even slightly.

  “Take off all her underwear. Quickly.”

  Martha’s voice turned sharp — no longer hiding behind gentle tones. The command made the women around the bed move more aggressively, their hands grabbing at Hanna without mercy.

  Near the door, three old men — Martha’s neighbors — crowded together, each trying to steal a better view. Their breathing was thick with desire, eyes unblinking.

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  “What are you waiting for? Strip. Now.”

  This time the order was directed at her sons.

  “Huh… huh…”

  Their breathing grew louder.

  Without shame, all four men began tearing off their own clothes in a rush, like animals unable to wait their turn.

  The room descended into chaos.

  Hanna thrashed endlessly, nearly hysterical. When rough hands tried to unclasp her bra, she jerked her arms violently to stop them. When they tried to pull down her underwear, her legs kicked despite being tied tightly to the bed.

  “Don’t! Don’t touch me!” she cried, her voice cracking with panic.

  The women struggled to restrain her.

  Seeing this, Martha stepped in herself. Roughly, she grabbed Hanna’s underwear and tried to rip it off.

  But Hanna kept fighting, her body twisting with desperate strength.

  The attempt failed.

  Martha’s old face tightened. Her jaw hardened. She glanced around the room as if searching for something.

  Then her eyes landed on one of the neighbors holding a cane.

  Without asking, Martha snatched it from his hand.

  “Let me go! Argh— let me go!!”

  Hanna was still struggling, her sobs tangled with screams of terror.

  With a furious, vicious expression, Martha raised the cane high—

  and slammed it down onto Hanna’s head.

  Thud!

  Once.

  Thud!

  Twice.

  “Stop, Martha!” one of the neighbors shouted.

  Hanna’s body went limp almost instantly. Her screams cut off, leaving only uneven breaths before everything fell silent.

  “You trying to kill her, Martha?” another neighbor demanded, his voice edged with anger and unease at what he’d just seen.

  Martha’s chest rose and fell heavily. Her face was tense, but beneath the wrinkles there was a satisfaction she couldn’t quite hide.

  “Stay out of it,” she snapped, throwing the cane onto the floor carelessly.

  Her eyes shifted to her sons.

  They were frozen.

  Fear was obvious on every face.

  Martha smiled thinly.

  “Who first?” she asked softly.

  No one answered.

  The room suddenly felt silent, even though everyone’s breathing was still heavy.

  Thick blood slowly seeped from Hanna’s scalp, soaking into the sheets. The girl’s body no longer moved, but her eyes remained open… empty… unfocused.

  “James,” Martha called, pointing at one of her sons. “You first. Don’t be afraid. Mother will teach you.”

  The man swallowed hard. His shoulders were stiff. He looked at Hanna… then back at his mother.

  Finally, he gave a small nod, though fear still clung to him.

  “Come,” Martha said.

  James’s steps felt heavy as he approached the foot of the bed.

  “Get on the bed,” Martha ordered.

  He obeyed.

  Martha smiled when she saw his arousal.

  Without wasting another second, she quickly spread Hanna’s legs wider.

  By then, the neighbors and the other sons were already pushing forward, fighting for a better view of what was about to happen.

  But before Martha could do anything further—

  a sound suddenly filled the room.

  “Grrr…”

  “Grrr…”

  The noise was deep. Animalistic.

  Enough to make everyone freeze.

  At the same time, they all turned toward Hanna.

  Their eyes widened, the whites showing clearly—

  because Hanna was staring at them.

  But that stare was different.

  Her face was tense, veins rising along her neck, eyes sharp as if she were enduring unbearable pain. From her body came a horrifying sound — bones cracking, shifting, like something breaking and moving inside her.

  One by one, people began stepping back.

  No one dared get closer.

  James scrambled off the bed, nearly losing his balance in panic. His breathing sped up.

  The ropes binding Hanna’s wrists and ankles suddenly snapped — as if they could no longer contain what her body was becoming.

  Her form expanded, muscles tightening unnaturally, as though something inside her was forcing its way out.

  “GRRR…!”

  A low growl tore from her throat, growing louder. Bones cracked audibly — snapping, grinding, then fusing again. Her breathing turned heavy, ragged, as if every second of the change was agony.

  Her teeth lengthened, pushing past her lips until sharp fangs gleamed in the dim light.

  Her fingers spasmed.

  Nails thickened, extending, sharpening into claws.

  The bed beneath her began to shake.

  KRAKK!

  One of the posts snapped.

  The mounting pressure finally overwhelmed the frame. With a loud cracking sound, the entire bed collapsed to the floor along with Hanna’s twisting body.

  And strangely—

  no one ran.

  They stood frozen where they were, faces filled with terror, mouths open wide — but not a single sound came out.

  Until something rose from the wreckage of the broken bed.

  A massive creature.

  Tall.

  It slowly straightened, its head nearly brushing the ceiling. Sharp eyes swept across every face in front of it. Several people stumbled backward, some hitting the wall behind them.

  Hanna’s body had fully transformed now — more like a savage humanoid than an animal. Her skin wasn’t covered in fur, but her muscles were dense and pronounced. Her arms and legs had lengthened slightly, giving her a distorted, threatening shape.

  “GRRR…!”

  The thunderous growl finally shattered the silence.

  And in that moment—

  Martha, her sons, and everyone in the room screamed at the top of their lungs.