Chapter 104 - A STRANGE SMELL

My mother's gaze finally turns from Frank to us, her eyes still reflecting hatred and determination, but there is also no trace of regret in them. The gun in my mother's hands trembles slightly, and I can see her struggle to keep control of her emotions.

"No one hurts my little girl!" my mother replies in a firm voice, but her tone is charged with a mixture of defense and justification. She is clearly trying to protect me, but her methods are extreme and out of character. The doctor, who is standing next to my mother, observes the situation seriously, his analytical gaze evaluating every move and word. However, despite the intensity of the moment, he shows no surprise on his face, as if what has just happened is just another day in the life of a doctor accustomed to critical situations.

Disbelief completely overwhelms me did my mother really shoot Frank to protect me? The pieces of this puzzle don't seem to fit together, and I find myself struggling to grasp the reality of what is happening.

Genrant and I exchange a look of confusion as my mother rushes towards us. Despite the chaos around us, her face is marked by an expression of genuine concern, her eyes shining with an urgency to make sure I am safe.

My mother runs towards me with a hurried pace, leaving behind the doctor, who approaches with slow, calculated steps. As he advances towards us, his gaze scrutinizes the surroundings with a surprising calmness, as if he were admiring the chaos of the flames dancing in contrast to the tranquility of the surrounding forest.

Genrant remains alert, cautiously watching my mother's every move. His eyes, intense and analytical, scrutinize every gesture, trying to understand the background of what has just happened. His posture is firm, like a watchful guardian, ready to intervene if the situation calls for it.

Meanwhile, my mother kneels beside me, her concern palpable in every word and gesture. Her trembling hands try to wipe away the dust and dirt covering my clothes, but her attention seems divided between me and the crime scene unfolding around us. I can feel the stress emanating from her, the heavy burden of her actions and their consequences.

"Darling, are you okay? And what are you doing on the floor?" my mother asks in a voice filled with concern, as she kneels beside me, examining me with restless eyes, her hands outstretched in a gesture of protection. Instinctively, she helps me up from the floor, concerned about my apparent dirty and disoriented state.

"Yes, Mom, I'm fine," I say, trying to reassure her despite my own confusion. "Just a little dirty from the smoke and ash." My words barely manage to calm the worry on her face, but at least I give her some comfort in the midst of this chaotic situation.

My mother rushes over and wraps me in a comforting embrace, her arms around me tightly as she pulls me close against her chest. "It doesn't matter that you're dirty, the important thing is that you're safe," she murmurs in a trembling voice, her affection palpable in every word.

After the hug, my mother pulls away from me and begins to check me carefully, her expert hands searching for any sign of injury or discomfort. Her expression is full of concern and motherly love, and although I don't fully understand what is happening, I feel grateful for her presence and care.

Her eyes scan my face for signs of injury as she examines me thoroughly, her concern palpable in every gesture. The cabin continues to collapse beside us, but in this moment, all that matters is the bond between mother and daughter, united by chaos but strengthened by mutual love and concern.

Genrant interjects. "How come you have a gun, mother-in-law?" he asks, his tone slightly accusatory but without losing his composure. His gaze meets my mother's, searching for answers that might clarify the situation.

"I wish I knew the same thing," I say, still confused, as I watch my mother put the gun down and run toward us with a worried expression etched on her face. Next to her, the doctor looks relaxed, despite the fact that my mother just killed someone.

My mother seems to hesitate for a moment, her eyes dodging Genrant's before she responds in a strained, slightly halting voice, as if the words are thorns sticking in her throat. "We ran into some men before we came here. They had guns, so I thought it would be a good idea to take one from them just in case we needed it," he explains, his tone laden with a mixture of justification and nervousness.

As she finishes speaking, I notice something dripping out of the side of her mouth and a faint smell of blood in the air. My mother instinctively licks her lips, as if remembering the taste of something delicious she has recently tasted.

"Mom, did you-" I start to ask, but my mother interrupts me.

"I'm sorry, it was an act of desperation," she murmurs amidst the crackling flames around us. "I didn't know what else to do to protect my daughter...but I have to admit it was fun," my mother looks at me with renewed concern, her eyes full of anguish as she watches me. Her hands tremble slightly, but her expression is one of determination as she approaches me, ready to help me in any way possible.

Genrant turns to the doctor with a questioning look. "Is that true, did you help her come here?" he asks.

The doctor sighs, his expression tired as he nods. "She insisted on looking for her daughter-how could I say no to a worried mother? Besides, I had a long time without going out to have fun with a beautiful woman," he adds with a knowing smile, averting his gaze to my mother.

Genrant watches my mother warily, his face impassive but alert to the situation. The tension in the air is palpable, and the smell of blood mixes with the smoke from the burning cabin, creating a suffocating atmosphere.

My mind whirls for answers as I watch his mother and the doctor with confusion. What kind of amusement can anyone find in such a chaotic and dangerous situation? What did his mother do to cause the air to be permeated with the pungent smell of blood? Questions pile up in her mind, finding no clear answers amidst the chaos surrounding them.

"Are you sure you're okay?" my mother repeats in a shaky voice, her hand outstretched to me in a gesture of support.

"Yes, I told you I'm sure, there's nothing wrong with me. I just want to get out of here..." I try to get up, but a stabbing pain shoots through my belly, causing me to cry out in pain. My words are barely a whisper of pain as I try to get up, but the sudden pain shooting through my belly stops me in my tracks.

What's happening, why does it hurt so much?