It wasn’t any language I knew.
Just staring at it made me feel weak.
I ran to my wife and asked if she was the one who drew it.
At first, she denied it.
Then, her body shook violently—and she admitted it.
“I’m sorry… I did it while you were asleep,” she said.
But that didn’t sit right with me.
I’m not a deep sleeper.
How could she write something on my chest—something permanent—and I wouldn’t feel a thing?
I rushed back to the bathroom to wash it off.
It didn’t come off.
Soap. Scrubbing. Nothing worked.
That was when I knew—this wasn’t normal.
This wasn’t just my wife anymore.
Something else was involved.
Days later, I came home exhausted.
She smiled and handed me a cup of juice.
I drank it, thinking nothing of it…
But moments later, my vision blurred.
My body went numb.
And right there, in front of her…
I collapsed. But before I collapsed, I saw something or someone—it was a shadow like a man.
When I woke up, I found myself lying on the bed.
My eyes were still blurry, but I could see my wife standing nearby—talking.
Her lips were moving, but… there was no one else in the room.
As my vision sharpened, I asked weakly,
“Babe… were you just talking to someone right now?”
She turned sharply—shock all over her face.
Then she forced a smile.
“No. I was praying.”
Praying?
I knew what I saw. But I didn’t want to push too hard—not yet.
So, I stood up slowly and walked to the bathroom.
When I looked in the mirror, I froze.
The tattoo that once marked my chest was gone. Completely.
No ink. No scar. No sign it was ever there.
It was as if it had never existed.
But I knew what I had seen just days ago…
This wasn’t normal.
I turned to go confront my wife, but suddenly, I felt an intense urge to pee.
I rushed to the toilet and relieved myself.
But then I looked down…
And my heart stopped.
The urine was thick.
Dark red…
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