Sillage

Chapter 30: Connection. Control.

TW PANIC ATTACK

A metallic sound breaking the peaceful silence of your practice made your hands stop midair. Eyes open wide and focused on the medicine cabinet you were organizing, body locked in place, you held your breath and waited.

You were supposed to be alone in the building.

One second passed. And then another one.

When no other noise traveled to your ears, your lungs exhaled a long breath. Shoulders loosening as you resumed your work.

Maybe you imagined the entire thing. Wouldn't have been the first time you heard weird sounds out of nowhere, after all. Sometimes they took you by surprise in the most ill-timed moments. Although, you supposed you should've been grateful it hadn't happened yet during a consultation, or worse, during a surgery.

That was one of the reasons you loved your profession so much. While you were working, it was just you and the patient.

No flashbacks. No voices. No ghosts.

Just peace and quiet.

"Ouch!"

Jar clattering on the lower shelf as you dropped it, your hand picked up the closest bloodstained scalpel on instinct. Quick, trembling legs carried you toward the ominous scream.

It was probably not the best decision to head straight towards the source of the commotion. That was how all horror stories started. But you were renting this place, and you would've been dead ten times over before allowing a burglar to break one of your windows or destroy any furniture. You did not have the money to replace anything, and you'd rather go down by the hands of a criminal than your landlord's.

Keeping your footsteps as light as possible, avoiding any parts of the floor that you knew could creak under your feet, the moment the kitchen came into view, your sweaty palm tightened around your improvised weapon.

The ruckus was even louder, and you knew you were getting closer to the intruder. A stifling smell wafted into the air, stomach floating up to your chest.

You kept your back close to the wall, hand ready to strike at the first sign of danger. Willing your lungs to resist in front of the stench, you finally mustered the courage to take a peek from your hiding spot. And the view of your now messy kitchen had you frozen in place.

Filthy pans and soiled bowls were scattered everywhere, a thick cloud of flour and smoke blanketing the entire space. The smell curled under your nose; stinging your eyes. You were quick to cover your face with the material of your blouse, fighting the gasp of air that was thundering to get out at the smothering sensation.

When your eyes fell on the person responsible for all the madness, you actually contemplated what the punishment for using your scalpel in a non-medical, possibly murderous way was.

The uninvited guest was coughing from the depths of her lungs against the dense, throttling air, rushing to open the window.

You didn't know if you should be furious or confused.

"What are you doing?"

Your voice filled the room as you stepped into the kitchen, causing Daria to flinch, startled at your appearance. She knocked down another bowl before you even had the chance to blink. Your eyes watched it rattle on the ground.

"W-w-w-why are you pointing a knife at me?!" Daria asked, face blanching the moment you switched your attention to her. Her eyes were watering from the dark fume still surrounding you in a thinner cloud than a few seconds prior.