I woke up staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. My mind was foggy, and my body refused to respond.


    Panic set in.


    I tried moving my fingers—nothing. My toes? Still nothing. My head? Not even a twitch.


    ''Fantastic. I''m paralyzed.''


    A nun approached, her expression calm and practiced. "I''m glad you''re awake. Wait here, I''ll bring Father Lucian," she said before turning away.


    ''Yeah, not like I have a choice.''


    Left alone, all I could do was stare at the ceiling, noticing the cobwebs in the corners. ''At least the spiders are making themselves at home.''


    Minutes passed as the reality of my situation sank in. This wasn’t a dream. My body refused to respond, except for my eyes. Terror and fascination warred in my mind.


    ''This is bad… but also kind of amazing? I should be dead, right? How did I survive?''


    I dug through my hazy memories, but they remained frustratingly out of reach.


    Pain. Fear. Darkness.


    My body felt weak, my cheekbones sharper than they should be. I probably looked like I had just crawled out of a grave.


    The priest finally arrived, settling into the chair beside my bed with a quiet chuckle. "How do you feel?"


    ''Oh, just fantastic, Father. Thanks for asking.''


    I stayed silent—not that I had much of a choice.


    He didn’t seem to expect an answer, which was a relief.


    "The mark on your back was quite large. Its effects are gone, but the imprint remains," he said, his voice calm and reassuring.


    ''Mark? What mark?'' My curiosity flared, but I had no way to check.


    "Do you remember your name? Where you''re from?" he asked.


    I barely managed the slightest shake of my head.


    "Did you lose your memories?" Lucian’s expression turned more serious.


    I blinked.


    It wasn’t entirely a lie. I had no memories of the body I was in, and my past felt like a fading dream. I knew who I was before this, but how I got here? Blank.


    "I see… that''s unfortunate." Lucian sighed, then continued. "There were three of you who survived and were brought here. The other two… didn''t make it."


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    His voice held genuine sorrow, which only made me more uneasy. This wasn’t just a passing remark—he truly mourned their loss.


    Silence hung between us before he offered a small smile. "For now, just focus on your recovery."


    ''Sounds like a scam,'' I thought, but blinked anyway.


    Once he left, I was alone again, with nothing but the creaking walls and the ever-present spiders for company.


    ''This place looks abandoned. Am I in some rundown medieval church? And why do I have the sinking feeling that I was almost sacrificed?''


    The weight of my situation pressed down on me. A few hours ago, I was just a regular college student. Now, I was here—wherever here was—barely clinging to life.


    ''I wish I had my phone,'' I muttered internally before exhaustion pulled me under once more.


    ---


    Chirp. Chirp.


    The sun hadn’t risen yet, but the birds were already announcing their existence.


    I groggily opened my eyes. My body felt… lighter. Tentatively, I tried moving my fingers. They twitched. My toes? They responded. My arms? Stiff, but functional.


    ''Holy crap, I can move!''


    Sitting up was a struggle, my muscles weak from who-knew-how-long of immobility, but at least I wasn’t a vegetable anymore.


    The room was simple—wood and stone, rustic and old. Insects crawled along the cracks in the walls, reminding me that hygiene was clearly a luxury here.


    My stomach growled.


    As if on cue, a young nun entered, pushing aside a thin curtain that served as a door.


    "Oh! You''re already up! That''s amazing!" she gasped, eyes wide.


    I blinked at her enthusiasm.


    "Please rest! I’ll bring you something to eat!" She gave me a bright smile before hurrying off.


    I sat back down, rubbing my temples. ''Well, at least someone’s nice around here.''


    A few minutes later, she returned with a wooden bowl of steaming soup.


    "We don’t have much, but please, eat as much as you like," she said kindly, placing it in front of me.


    I picked up the crude spoon, blew on the soup, and took a cautious sip.


    It tasted like warm water with a vague memory of vegetables.


    I kept my face neutral.


    "Is it not to your liking?" she asked, tilting her head.


    I met her gentle, expectant gaze and took another sip, suppressing a grimace.


    ''I’ve eaten instant noodles with no seasoning before. I can survive this.''


    "It’s… nourishing," I said diplomatically.


    She beamed. "I’m glad!"


    I sighed internally. ''Yep. I’m doomed.''


    ---


    The soup, while bland, confirmed two things: I wasn’t in immediate danger of starving, and the people here—at least the nuns—weren’t hostile. That didn’t mean I trusted them.


    The young nun studied me with a soft smile. "You seem much better already. You must be strong."


    ''Strong? No. Just lucky.''


    Or unlucky, considering I had no idea how I ended up here.


    "What is your name? Do you remember anything?" she asked gently.


    I hesitated.


    My memories of this place were nonexistent, but that didn’t mean my past self was unimportant. Too many unknowns—who I was, who tried to sacrifice me, and why I survived when the others didn’t.


    Giving out my real name felt like a mistake.


    So I lied.


    "…Grimm," I finally said, choosing a name that felt oddly familiar.


    The nun’s smile didn’t waver. "It’s nice to meet you, Grimm. I’m Sister Elara."


    I gave a slight nod, watching her reaction. Nothing. No recognition, no suspicion. Just genuine kindness.


    That was almost more unsettling than if she had reacted.


    "Father Lucian will be pleased to hear you’re recovering so quickly," she continued. "You were in terrible condition when we found you. It’s a miracle you’re even awake."


    ''Miracle, huh?''


    That word didn’t sit right with me.


    I glanced around again. The wooden walls were aged, worn, and carried the faint scent of damp earth. This place wasn’t well-funded, meaning no advanced medicine.


    So how did I recover so fast?


    I looked down at my hands—pale, weak, but functional. My back still ached where Lucian mentioned the mark.


    I needed a mirror.


    Sister Elara stood, dusting off her robes. "Please rest for now. Father Lucian will check on you soon."


    I nodded again, watching her leave.


    The moment she was gone, I forced myself to stand, ignoring the protests of my weak legs. My balance wavered, but I managed.


    No major wounds, just soreness. My back still tingled as if something had burned into it.


    I hobbled toward the window. The glass was warped, offering a distorted view outside. The sky was still dark, the village beyond quiet.


    No visible guards. No immediate threats.


    I wasn’t locked in. That was good.


    But it didn’t mean I was safe.


    Someone—maybe a cult, maybe something worse—had tried to sacrifice me. That meant they could still be looking for me.


    And if the church had saved me, were they allies? Or had they simply found me first?


    Too many questions. Not enough answers.


    I sighed. ''Think, Grimm. What’s the safest way forward?''


    For now, acting like a confused amnesiac seemed best. It kept suspicion off me while I gathered information.


    Footsteps approached. I quickly sat back down, forcing my body to appear fatigued.


    The door creaked open, and Father Lucian entered, his calm presence unchanged.


    "You’re already up? That’s promising," he said, taking a seat.


    I met his gaze but stayed silent, letting him speak first.


    "You survived something terrible, Grimm. A ritual. A sacrifice."


    My fingers curled slightly.


    "Whatever was meant to happen… it failed. And you survived."


    I kept my face neutral.


    "Do you have any memories of that night?"


    I shook my head.


    Lucian studied me for a moment, then nodded. "That may be for the best."


    A heavy pause.


    "You’re safe here. For now."


    Safe.


    For now...