Chapter 12: The Days of Sue

Elisabeth stared at the contents of the box that she picked up on her way back from the deposit box. The sterile perfection of it: two pristine IV bags, their liquid glowing faintly under the bathroom light… seven empty vials, neatly clipped, like bullets in a magazine.

Her reflection in the mirror hovered just above them with tired eyes, chapped lips, the faint pink scar running down her spine visible beneath the collar of her robe.

She ran her fingers over the plastic tubing, almost tenderly, as if reacquainting herself with an old enemy.

Then her eyes flicked downward to Sue's body, frozen in its immaculate youth. The silence around her was suffocating.

She then set the vials carefully on the sink, and aligned them in a neat row, but her hands trembled slightly.

For a beat, Elisabeth did nothing. She just stood there between the light above, her reflection, and Sue's shadow below. The buzz of the fluorescent bulb grew louder… almost unbearable.

From outside, through the frosted glass of her apartment, her silhouette was bending over, preparing the ritual once more. A faint orange glow filling the window as it pulsed.

She put them away in the bathroom cabinet and closed the mirrored door where she saw her reflection staring back at her. She looked at Sue lying on the floor. And the IV bag indicating that there was still 4 more days to go...

Elisabeth sat hunched over the kitchen table, the tip of her pen carving black X's into the flimsy paper of the calendar. One week erased in a single streak. Then another. Seven days at a time, she obliterated them with the same sharp, mechanical slashes.

When she ran out of days, she wrote the same word again and again in their empty boxes: SUE. Her name filled the grid like a chant, like a quiet spell she was trying to cast over time itself. The entire month was gone now, days reduced to names, and names reduced to black ink.

She propped the calendar against the wall and stared at it, as though it might speak back to her. Nothing. Just a silent accusation of time wasted and time yet to come.

The pen tapped against the table. Tap. Tap. Tap. Each sound hollow, impatient. Elisabeth's jaw tightened. She hated this room and the kitchen that was also a living room, cluttered and too small, filled with the faint odor of yesterday's coffee.

She flicked on the radio, needing distraction.

"...at discount prices! It's fish of the sea month at COSTCO! SUPER COLOSSAL ALASKAN RED KING CRAB LEGS are only $12.99 a pound, so come on down and reel in your catch!"

A manic, booming voice clattered through the air.

"HEY BUT WHO'S THIS?! WHO'S WHAT? WHO'S ON TOP OF THIS? THE ASSURAN—"

Click. Elisabeth silenced it before the voice could finish.

She stayed seated, her hand resting on the knob, her chest heavy with a sigh she hadn't let out. Silence pressed in again.

Finally, she pushed herself up and drifted into the living room. The old television came alive behind her, its glow casting restless light across the room. She didn't sit. She didn't need to. The TV murmured to itself, spitting out fragments of laughter tracks, weather updates, breaking news—just noise filling the air like smoke.

Then came night.

The bathroom tiles were cold, even from the ground's view. A door opened, spilling a rectangle of pale light across the floor.

Sue laid motionless in its glow.

Elisabeth's white bathrobe brushed the frame, her feet planted like sentinels beside the body. The IV bag hung slackly, only two notches left, two more days, maybe less.

She stood there for a long time, her shadow stretching across Sue's still form.

Then, without a word, she withdrew, closing the door softly behind her.

Darkness swallowed the tiles again.

From somewhere else in the house, the television droned back to life, voices swelling, breaking and fading. Then silence. Then the throb of rhythmic music that was distant at first, but building, pulsing, insistent, as though the walls themselves had begun to breathe.

The music exploded through the apartment, rattling the cabinets as the refrigerator door swung open.

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From inside the cold hollow of the fridge, the world came in blinding slices: white light flooding across Sue's skin as she bent down, her breath quick and alive. The syringe tray clinked as she slid it into place—seven small vials, seven more days already mapped out.

Her hand lingered as she reached for a soda. Long, sharp nails painted the red of warning lights. The can hissed open, the metal tab snapping free with a metallic sigh.

Sue straightened, one hip pressing the door closed with a careless thrust. The refrigerator light disappeared, and she filled the room instead, her presence all motion, all rhythm. She stretched, spine flexing like a whip, and drank in long gulps. Bubbles hissed against her teeth.

The bassline drove her across the living room floor. Elisabeth's time was quiet, stagnant and suffocating, it was now gone. This was hers now. Every nerve in her body felt tuned to the music, a pulse she could ride forever.

The television was still on, a dull flickering box casting its pale light over the armchair. The cushion sagged slightly, a worn hollow where Elisabeth had sat night after night.

Sue's eyes narrowed. Just a flicker of disdain, quick and sharp. She grabbed the remote, snapped the screen to black, and turned to the framed photo of Elisabeth hanging crooked on the wall. Her lips curled.

She padded into the bathroom.

Elisabeth lay sprawled across the tiles, lifeless as cloth abandoned on the floor. A body emptied out. Sue leaned against the doorframe, sipping the last of her drink, staring at the pale husk with neither pity nor remorse.

Then—crunch. She crushed the can in her fist, aluminum collapsing with a scream. She tossed it aside and ran her hand along the tiled wall, rapping softly.

Tap. Tap. Tap. She listened. Nothing but echo.

In the bedroom, she tried again. Tap. Tap. Tap. In the closet, she pushed the clothes aside and pressed her knuckles against the plaster. Tock. Tock. Tock. it was hollow.

Her pulse quickened.

Back in the bathroom, she tested the other side. Same sound. Same emptiness. A hollow space between walls. A secret corridor no one had told her about.

Sue stood still, her gaze fixed on the wall. The music kept pulsing from the other room, but here, in this space, it felt like the silence was louder. She tilted her head, considering as her eyes glittered.

Something hidden was waiting there. And she intended to find it.