Chapter 179 The Aftermath of the Nightmare

Chapter 179: Chapter 179 The Aftermath of the Nightmare

​The recurring nightmare always started in the exact same way.

​Veyra was only seven years old again. She was small, terrified, and curled up into a tight ball behind the old fabric sofa in the corner of the living room.

​The entire house was shrouded in pitch darkness. None of the lights were on, and the only sound echoing through the cold rooms was the heavy rain pounding relentlessly against the glass windowpanes.

​Her mother was in the kitchen nearby. She was busy preparing dinner, softly humming a familiar lullaby to keep the atmosphere warm and comforting. It was a gentle, safe melody that usually brought instant peace.

​Then, without any warning, the heavy front door was kicked open with a loud, violent crash.

​A tall figure stepped into the hallway, completely wrapped in a dark raincoat. His face was covered by a painted clown mask. The red smile painted onto the mask was wide, unnatural, and completely disturbing.

​Her mother gasped, letting out a sharp scream that echoed off the walls.

​The intruder raised his right hand, revealing a heavy black handgun that gleamed under the faint outdoor streetlights.

​Before anyone could move, he pulled the trigger.

​Her mother collapsed heavily onto the floor.

​A thick pool of bright red blood began spreading rapidly across the kitchen tiles, staining everything in its path.

​Veyra wanted to scream out with all her strength. She wanted to spring up from her hiding spot, run into the kitchen, and help her mother.

​Yet her limbs felt like solid lead. She was completely frozen in place, utterly unable to move a single muscle.

​Her mother turned her head slowly, her wide eyes searching through the dim light until they locked onto Veyra’s hiding spot behind the couch. Her lips moved frantically, fighting through the pain to form words.

​Tan Tan, run!

​Veyra’s mind raced in confusion. Her official name wasn’t Tan Tan. That was a private, special nickname that only her mother used when they were alone at home.

​Run! Get out of here!

​Panic finally snapped Veyra out of her paralysis, and she ran.

​She scrambled to her feet on trembling legs and sprinted wildly toward the back staircase. She took the wooden steps two at a time, her heart hammering wildly inside her small chest. She burst into her bedroom, rushed across the floor, and shoved the heavy glass window wide open.

​The icy rain smacked directly into her face, and the howling wind whipped her hair around. Below her, the sloped roof shingles were wet and dangerously slippery.

​She forced herself out onto the ledge anyway. She gripped the metal rain gutter with white knuckles, slowly lowered her small body down over the edge, and let go.

​She hit the muddy ground hard. A sharp, burning pain shot straight up her right ankle as her joint twisted under her weight. She cried out in pain, but she didn’t let it stop her.

​She pushed herself up and kept running through the dark backyard, scrambling past the flower beds and racing out toward the open main street.

​Once her feet hit the pavement, she waved her arms frantically in the air, screaming for help at the top of her lungs.

​Car after car drove past her in the storm, but not a single driver pulled over.

​Desperate and terrified, she darted straight into the middle of the wet asphalt road.

​Bright yellow headlights cut through the heavy downpour as a fast-approaching car sped directly toward her.

​She waved her arms even higher, screaming as loudly as her lungs allowed.

​The vehicle’s brakes screeched loudly against the wet road. The driver slammed on the wheel, swerving wildly before coming to a sudden halt just inches away from her small frame.

​The driver’s side door flew open, and a middle-aged woman rushed out into the rain. Her face was deathly pale, and her voice shook with pure anger and panic.

​"What on earth are you doing?!" the woman shouted, running over. "You could have been hit! You could have been killed out here!"

​Veyra reached out with trembling hands and grabbed the woman’s coat sleeve tightly. "My mom... please! Someone hurt my mom!"

​The woman stopped cold, looking down at the girl’s soaked clothes, the red blood smudged on her small hands, and the raw terror in her tear-filled eyes.

​Without asking another question, the woman reached into her purse, pulled out her phone, and dialed emergency services immediately.

​When Veyra finally opened her eyes again, she was lying in a cold hospital bed.

​Her swollen ankle was tightly wrapped in fresh white bandages, her hands had been washed clean, and someone had changed her into dry clothes.

​A female nurse stood quietly beside the bed, checking her vitals. Her face was kind, but her eyes were filled with heavy sadness.

​"Your mother is still in the emergency room," the nurse explained softly, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "The doctors are operating on her right now."

​So Veyra waited.

​Slowly, agonizing hours ticked by into the late night, but no new updates came.

​Finally, a surgeon in blue scrubs stepped out through the double doors. His expression was grim, his eyes tired and heavy.

​"Your mother suffered four gunshot wounds to her torso," the doctor said, choosing his words carefully. "She lost a massive amount of blood before reaching us, and one of her kidneys was completely destroyed."

​He paused, letting out a long, heavy sigh. "We performed every procedure possible, but her body is simply too weak. She isn’t going to make it through the night."

​Veyra stared at him in utter silence, her vision blurring as her hands gripped the bedsheets.

​"No," she whispered, her voice cracking softly. "No, that’s not true..."

​The medical staff allowed her to step into the room to say her final goodbye.

​The space was eerie and silent, save for the steady, slow beeping of the heart monitor. Her mother lay motionless on the raised bed, her skin pale and her eyes softly closed.

​Veyra walked slowly over to the side of the bed and reached out to take her mother’s hand. It felt ice-cold to the touch.

​At her touch, her mother’s eyelids fluttered open. She looked over at Veyra, her weak lips curling into a soft, loving smile despite her suffering.

​"I’m so sorry, my sweet girl," her mother whispered, her breath coming in shallow gasps. "I’m so sorry I have to leave you like this."

​Veyra shook her head frantically, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Don’t apologize! Please, Mom, just stay with me! Don’t leave me here alone!"

​Her mother weakly reached under her pillow, her fingers trembling as she pulled out a small, dark object. It was a smooth, grayish-black stone pendant, entirely simple in appearance.

​"Take this," her mother breathed, placing it into Veyra’s palm. "Keep it hidden. Take good care of it no matter what happens."

​Veyra closed her fingers around the object. It felt strangely warm against her cold skin, fitting perfectly in the center of her palm.

​Her mother’s eyes slowly drifted shut one last time, and the continuous flat tone of the monitor echoed through the small room.

​Shortly after, the local police department arrived to investigate the crime.

​Detectives asked endless questions, took dozens of flash photographs, and thoroughly searched through every corner of the family home.

​They discovered the iron safe in the study left wide open. Valuable gold jewelry was missing, stacks of cash were gone, and several confidential family records had been stolen.

​Based on the evidence, the police officially labeled the whole incident as a tragic armed burglary turned into murder.

​The Solenne family lost a massive amount of financial assets and precious heirlooms on that terrible night.

​Yet Veyra didn’t give a single thought to the stolen wealth, the lost house, or the missing documents.

​The only thing that mattered to her in the entire world was the mother she would never see again.

​Despite the investigation, the killer was never identified or brought to justice.

​The unknown man in the dark raincoat and the smiling clown mask seemed to have dissolved into thin air without leaving a single trace of evidence behind.

​Thirteen long years went by, but the official case file remained open, unsolved, and buried deep under layers of cold cases.

​Veyra had spent over a decade trying her best to bury those dark memories, forcing herself to focus on her education and building a new life.

​Yet the deep trauma had never truly left her mind.

​Whenever she closed her eyes in total darkness, she could still see the distorted red grin of the clown mask, the cold barrel of the gun, and the pool of dark blood on the tiles.

​Whenever rain began falling outside her window, she could still hear her mother’s loud, painful scream echoing through her head.

​Veyra sat up sharply in her bed, her throat raw as she snapped out of the nightmare with a desperate cry.

​The master bedroom was completely dark, her sheets were wildly tangled around her legs, and her entire upper body was shaking uncontrollably.

​She was no longer that helpless seven-year-old girl. She was no longer standing inside that blood-stained kitchen, nor was she sitting in that quiet hospital room.

​Yet the raw terror, the crushing helplessness, and the overwhelming grief felt just as fresh and painful as they had thirteen years ago.

​Her chest felt tightly constricted, making it nearly impossible to draw air into her lungs. She couldn’t calm her rapid thoughts, and she couldn’t stop her limbs from trembling.

​Lost in pure panic, she instinctively called out for the only person who had ever made her feel completely safe.

​"Mom!" she cried out into the dark, empty space.

​She had no idea how long she remained sitting alone on the edge of the large bed.

​Minutes slipped into hours, but time didn’t matter to her at all right now.

​Slowly, as her breathing began to even out, the terrifying vividness of the nightmare started to fade back into the background. The intense fear receded, and the trembling in her hands gradually stopped.

​Yet a deep, lingering question began taking shape in her mind.

​Why now? Why had that horrific memory resurfaced so suddenly after all these years?

​She hadn’t suffered from that specific nightmare in a very long time. She had buried it deep within her mind, convinced that she had finally moved past the trauma.

​Then, the realization hit her all at once.

​The Star Core Meteorite. The intricate structural design. Her mother’s hidden pendant.

​The deep, undeniable connection between them.

​She had seen that exact celestial design printed inside Dorian’s ancient research book earlier. She had pulled out her mother’s gray-black stone keepsake to compare them side by side, discovering that the patterns were practically identical to each other.

​At the time, she had quickly dismissed it as a strange coincidence, telling herself that it couldn’t possibly mean anything significant.

​However, her inner instincts had clearly known better.

​The sudden return of her childhood nightmare wasn’t random at all. Seeing the exact matching patterns between her mother’s final memento and the mysterious Star Core Meteorite had unlocked the dark memories she had kept buried for thirteen long years.