"Number 150."
The nurse's voice echoed through the hall. Wearing a short uniform, with bright yellow hair and cheap red lipstick, she pointed toward the black door behind her, ordering the number to step forward.
Dozens of people were waiting for their annual blood examination in the waiting hall. This blood test was the decisive factor in the course of their lives—not only for commoners, but for every person in the kingdom.
The atmosphere was unbearably bleak. No one spoke or whispered; everyone was trapped in their own thoughts.
Adam was counting sheep.
"29… 30… 31… 32… 33… 34… 35…"
Yes, sheep. He was trying to ease his nerves. Among the crowd, Adam appeared to be the calmest and most composed. As he counted, he stared at the ceiling.
"36… 37… 38… 39… 40…"
She was the one who had taught him this method—to calm him and his siblings during the night the monsters attacked their village, under the Red Moon.
Not much longer until my turn.
The next number was called in.
Two possibilities stood before Adam: either to live the rest of his life alone and purposeless, until he met the same fate as his mother and siblings—martyrs of the Red Moon Friday—or…
"Number 152, please proceed to the examination room."
He exhaled, then laughed softly as he heard the words.
"Well… I suppose it's time to face my fate."
At that moment, he realized it was too late for his life to flash before his eyes. Every regret, every pain he had endured surfaced—yet none of the happy moments did.
He walked steadily toward the door, aware of the people watching him. Then his eyes fell upon a girl with diamond-colored hair. The first word that came to his mind to describe her was:
Star…
To him, she looked like a diamond-bright star, breathtakingly beautiful.
He stopped in front of the black door, above which hung a sign marked XX. Turning to her, he smiled.
"Hey… diamond hair."
She looked at him with her gray eyes.
"What?"
"In case we never meet again—just in case—I don't want to add another regret to the ones I already carry."
He fell silent for a moment, gazing at her with stormy, ocean-blue eyes, then asked:
"What's your name?"
The nurse smiled bitterly as she opened the door, while the diamond-haired girl answered:
"Charlotte. My name is Charlotte."
Adam smiled and stepped into the darkness behind the black door. Moments later, a faint whisper echoed from within:
"Thank you."
The others returned to their silent anxiety, while the diamond-haired girl remained standing, staring at the door.
The nurse returned to her desk and asked her, "What's wrong with you, girl? Why are you still standing?"
"Oh… sorry," she replied. "I'll sit down."
I forgot to ask for his name, she whispered to herself.
---
Inside a narrow corridor drowned in darkness, Adam walked toward the unknown. The shadows did not frighten him, nor did the strange whispers and murmurs echoing from time to time. What occupied his mind was the length of the corridor—it felt as though he had been walking for nearly five uninterrupted minutes.
Is this corridor really inside the building?
Ahead of him, he noticed a bronze-colored door with a metallic sheen. He quickened his pace until he stood before it. The same XX sign was engraved above it.
"I suppose I'm heading in the right direction."
"Please, come in…"
A voice called to him from within. Adam clenched his fingers, trying to steady himself, and resumed counting aloud.
"46… 47… 48… 49… 50…"
He closed his eyes and stared at the door handle, carved in the shape of a skeletal hand.
"Alright… let's do this."
He reached out, grasped the bony handle, and turned it with force, pushing the door open.
---
Inside was what seemed like an ordinary room with a balcony, furnished in a modern Victorian style using the finest wood. Yet the floor clashed horribly with the elegance of the furniture—a green carpet soaked in blood, with scattered pieces of flesh littered across it.
Halfway to the balcony sat a woman with silver hair, rigid features, and translucent white eyes. She gestured toward a wooden bed and said:
"Lie down… so we may begin the examination."
So I'm supposed to sleep on this gray bed, Adam realized as he approached. The woman was cold as ice—motionless, unblinking—dressed in a funeral-black gown. Her presence was deeply unsettling.
Still, Adam did not dwell on it. He lay down, pulling the gray blanket aside, then sighed.
"Alright. I'm lying down. What's next?"
"Very well, Adam. Your blood analysis has begun," she said, placing a wooden tray over the bed. Then she looked at him and continued, "The test is quite simple. All you must do is choose the red flower or the blue one."
She lifted the cover, revealing two flowers—one red, one blue.
"Choose wisely."
Adam stared at them. The candles around him pushed the darkness back slightly, and a cold breeze flowed in from the balcony, which he noticed opened onto absolute nothingness—as though an entire world existed within this blood-soaked room.
So I just choose… He reached for the blue flower, then hesitated. He did the same with the red.
"Wait," he said suddenly. "What is the purpose of this test?"
"I don't know," she replied in a flat, emotionless voice.
"What do you mean, you don't know?"
"I am merely a supervisor. I was appointed by Lady Barda, head of the medical division. All I know is that this room is not fixed during examinations."
"Does everything change depending on the person being tested?"
"Not everything," she corrected him. "Only the test. Everything else remains the same."
So this test revolves entirely around me.
Memories surfaced—his fallen sister, Claire…
She had been only six years old, with star-like eyes and hair as dark as the night. She had always comforted him through life's hardships.
He remembered the garden. The flowers.
"Excuse me, ma'am," he said, his voice slightly strained. "May I ask a small favor?"
"Go ahead."
"Could you hand me the flower beside the left leg of the bed?"
She froze for a moment. Then she bent down and plucked something. Adam heard the faint sound of a stem snapping.
"As I expected."
It was a sunflower—its petals pure white, faintly glowing as though carved from ice. He took it from her hand.
"How did you know it was there?" she asked.
"I promised her," he replied, holding back his grief. "I promised that if she died before me, I would bring it to her when I died."
Realization struck him.
"If this flower is here… then that means—"
"Yes, Adam," she said before he could finish.
"This means you are afflicted with the Blood Curse."
The candles went out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
And within that darkness, the pale glow of the frozen sunflower remained.