My head was pounding once again, and I couldn’t bear the pain anymore. I had been suffering from chronic headaches for as long as I could remember, and every time they hit, it felt like a thousand tiny knives were piercing my skull.
One day, I decided to visit a pathologist to see if they could help me find a cure for my condition. The pathologist was a strange and eerie man, with a dark and ominous aura that made me feel uneasy.
As he examined me, his cold, bony fingers prodded at my temples, sending shivers down my spine. He muttered to himself in a language I couldn’t understand, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
Suddenly, he stopped and looked up at me with piercing eyes that seemed to bore into my very soul. “I know what’s causing your headaches,” he said with a sinister grin. “But you won’t like what I have to say.”
He told me that my headaches were not a medical condition but a curse, placed upon me by an ancient and vengeful entity. The only way to lift the curse was to perform a ritual that involved sacrificing a living being.
At first, I refused to believe him, but as the pain in my head intensified, I became desperate for a solution. So, I agreed to the pathologist’s proposal and followed him to a dark and foreboding chamber beneath his laboratory.
There, he showed me an altar stained with blood and surrounded by grotesque artifacts. He handed me a knife and told me to perform the ritual myself.
I hesitated for a moment, but the throbbing in my head became unbearable, and I knew I had no other choice. As I raised the knife, I saw a figure emerge from the shadows – it was the pathologist himself.
“You fool,” he hissed. “Did you really think I would let you leave here alive?”
With that, he lunged at me with a scalpel, and a violent struggle ensued. In the chaos, I managed to plunge the knife into his chest, and he fell to the ground, lifeless.
As I stumbled out of the chamber, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. My headache was gone, and I felt like a new person. But the memory of that night still haunts me to this day – the pathologist’s twisted smile, the blood-stained altar, and the sickening realization that I had become a murderer.