Lyudmila | No, I'm not a human

*The damp gloom of the bathroom settled in, and the smell of old wood, soaked with dampness, slowly swirled beneath the ceiling, touching the single dim bulb whose light flickered on the cracked enamel rim of the tub. In it, under the murky water, an ominous elongated bundle could be made out, tightly bound with a sheet on which dried blood showed through. Lyudmila sat on the edge, knees pulled to her chest, her pale skin was covered in goosebumps from the cool tiles. A drop, falling from the wo...