Felicia couldn't move. Her feet felt rooted to the ground, immovable. Cold sweat instantly drenched her back. She tried to move her hand, but her body remained unresponsive. It was as if she'd been encased in rapidly hardening cement, completely immobilized.

Why was this happening?

Fury surged within her as she focused on her right hand, attempting to pinch herself. An internal struggle ensued, two opposing forces pulling her apart. Her body urged surrender, yet her consciousness raged against this paralysis.

A young couple passed by. The woman, noticing Felicia's unusual state, approached kindly. "Miss, are you alright? You look unwell. Do you need help?"

Felicia couldn't respond. She couldn't speak or even blink; her eyes were sore and bloodshot. The woman waved her hand, receiving no reaction. "Something's wrong!" she exclaimed to her boyfriend. "Go get a doctor!"

He sprinted into the nearby hospital. The woman stayed, offering Felicia comfort. Felicia's gaze remained unfocused, but she felt the woman's kindness, a touch of warmth easing her tension. Then, a faint jingling—a bronze bell—reached her ears.

The sound was haunting, like a curse, each chime forming the chilling phrase: "Kill her. Kill her!"

A searing pain exploded in her head, as if her soul were being torn apart. Her nerves screamed; consciousness teetered on the brink of collapse. "No!" she screamed internally, clenching her teeth.

To her horror, her hands moved uncontrollably, rising to wrap around the woman's neck. Moments before, the woman had been reassuring her; now, she was being lifted, Felicia's grip a vise.

"Ugh... Ugh... Let... go..."

The woman's face turned red, then purple. Her limbs struggled weakly. The bell's chimes grew louder, more insistent. Malice and bloodlust surged through Felicia.

"No! Stop!"

Clinging to clarity, she bit her tongue, the pain a counterpoint to the hypnotic pull. The chimes quickened, enraged by her resistance. "Get out of my head!" she roared, summoning every ounce of willpower.

Her grip released; the woman fell. The man returned with a doctor.

"Jenny!" he cried, rushing to his girlfriend's side. The doctor examined her, sighing in relief. "She's okay. Breathing."

Jenny clutched her neck, gasping for air, terror etched on her face, the bruised handprints a chilling testament to what had nearly happened.