Hailey’s boyfriend opened a private yoga studio, Whispering Willow Yoga Studio, charging a jaw-dropping $2,500 per session. The price was steep enough to hurt my teeth, but the place was constantly packed with clients. Especially the mistresses of wealthy men. No matter how poor their posture or demeanor, they’d walk out looking like regal swans. Curiosity got the better of me, and one night, I followed one of those mistresses into the studio’s changing room. That’s when I heard the chilling sound of a woman begging for mercy from the other side of the wall… Content Ever since Hailey started dating Zachary “Zach” Carter, a wealthy and resourceful man, our parents treated her like a queen. Meanwhile, I was the unwanted bonus that came with their cellphone plan. So, now and then, I’d poke at her boyfriend’s perfect facade. “Zach’s good-looking, capable, and surrounded by women all day. Aren’t you afraid he’ll cheat?” Hailey rolled her eyes as she saw right through me, utterly unbothered. “He’s obsessed with me,” she replied smugly. “Every night, without fail, he’s all over me. How could he have time for anyone else? You’re just bitter. I was almost thirty, still single, and walking around hunched over like some grandma. Even Mom looks younger than you!” Her words pierced straight through my self-esteem. From childhood to now, Hailey has always been the one everyone praises. I was the one people criticized. I had poor grades and no friends, and now, not even a man would take me if I begged. Hailey was the exact opposite. Brilliant, beautiful, and constantly swapping boyfriend-like outfits. And now, she was with someone as seemingly perfect as Zach Carter. I swallowed my tears and kept mopping the floor. Behind me, Hailey lounged on the couch, legs crossed, chatting on the phone. “Zach, what time will you be back tonight?” “You have another session? With Penny again?” “Ugh, I still remember the first time I saw her. She looked like some backwater hillbilly. After just a week of your sessions, she’s posting on Instagram looking like a total debutante.” After some idle chat, her tone shifted. “Zach, your sessions work wonders. Why won’t you ever let me come to the studio? I’m your girlfriend, after all. I want to be prettier too…” Click. Zach hung up on her. Even I could hear the sharp tone of the disconnection. Hailey’s face darkened, and she snapped at me, “What are you staring at? Get out!” I dropped the mop, clenched my fists, and let an idea take root. I had Penny Hawthorne’s contact. When Zach’s classes exploded in popularity, it was through my connection that Penny reached him. I opened Instagram and saw her latest post: a sultry, half-draped selfie. Her skin glowed smooth as silk, her posture radiated confidence, and her aura was captivating. Forget men—even I felt my pulse quicken. Every inch of her body looked like an artist had sculpted it. Her caption read: “9 PM session tonight! So excited!” It was already 8:30. I hailed a cab to the studio. The place was tucked away in a quiet, unlit area on the outskirts of town. Penny arrived shortly after I did, sneaking into the building like she was up to no good. Not even bothering with a flashlight, she climbed the stairs by moonlight. I followed her, heart pounding, holding my breath. On the second floor, doubt started creeping in. If I got caught, Hailey would lose her mind, and our parents would probably throw me out because I had embarrassed them. But… I glanced at Penny’s silhouette ahead of me. Even in the dim light, her figure was alluring and seductive. I wanted to be beautiful too. If I could expose Zach—whether it was cheating or some dark secret about this private yoga—he’d have to do whatever I asked. Click. Penny entered a code, and the automatic doors slid open. Before they closed again, I darted inside.
Zach wasn’t there yet, so I trailed Penny into the changing room. No lights were ever turned on. The studio relied entirely on the pale moonlight spilling through the windows. After showering and changing into yoga gear, Penny left. I stayed behind, glancing at my phone. It was precisely 9 PM. I heard movement outside—Zach had arrived. “Coach, are we starting now?” Penny’s voice was sweet and saccharine, enough to make anyone gag. Zach didn’t reply, but Penny started making sounds. It was…odd. Panting, gasping, somewhere between pain and pleasure. I thought, Is this really yoga? Why does it sound so intense? Could Zach be…? Summoning all my courage, I turned the doorknob and peeked through the crack. Even with my eyes wide open, I could only make out blurry shadows. The dim lighting heightened my other senses. The sounds were sharper, more urgent, like someone being devoured. Then came a man’s guttural noise, strange and feral, quickly drowned out by Penny’s cries. Through the darkness, I squinted hard enough to make out faint silhouettes. Penny lay on the ground in a yoga pose, her movements fluid. Beside her, the man moved like a ravenous animal, hunched over and devouring his prey. Even without clear visuals, what was happening was obvious. “My leg hurts! I think I pulled something. I can’t keep stretching!” Penny’s voice trembled with pain, almost sobbing, but the next moment, she called out to “Coach” in a higher pitch. I felt both confused and envious. The bizarre session lasted until my phone’s battery died from recording. It was all Penny’s one-woman show; Zach never spoke a word. If I showed this to Hailey, she’d laugh it off as inconclusive. No, I needed something more substantial. When the session ended, Zach left. Penny returned to the changing room to shower. I watched through a crack in the door as she admired herself in the mirror, completely naked, under her phone’s flashlight. “Finished class. Wish you were here~” She posed provocatively, likely for her sugar daddy. Her body was mesmerizing—an hourglass figure with flawless curves. Her legs were noticeably longer and straighter than before. When Penny finally left, I inspected the studio. The air still reeked of something unidentifiable. Under a yoga mat, I found a strange clump of silk-like material. By the time I got home, it was past 10 PM. Zach now lived with us, supposedly so someone could “care for him.” Hailey served him indoors while I played maid outside. Our parents were asleep as usual, and Hailey’s bedroom door was closed. I went to the bathroom to wash Zach’s laundry, but his clothes were spotless, and there was no evidence of him showering after class. That made no sense. On returning to my room, I noticed Hailey’s door was ajar. Peeking inside, I saw them on the bed. Zach was completely different here—his crude words sent me shivers. How could he be so cold and silent at the studio but vulgar and lively here? I blocked his path when he eventually left Hailey asleep and stepped into the living room. “I have proof you cheated on Hailey.” He smirked, unfazed. “So?” “You’re my future brother-in-law. I don’t want to ruin your relationship with my sister.” I clenched my fists. “I just have one request—teach me yoga. I want to be prettier than Penny Hawthorne.” Zach’s eyes scanned me, full of disdain. “Your starting point’s pretty bad,” he said, smirking. “But it’s not impossible.” His voice turned low and cryptic. “Tomorrow night at 9. Whispering Willow. Come ready—I’ll need to inspect you first.”
I stumbled back to my room, legs weak and hands trembling, still in shock that this was happening. Unable to contain my excitement, I pulled out the strange clump of material I’d grabbed from Whispering Willow Yoga Studio. Under the bright lamp, I saw it clearly—a tangled mess of fine, silky white threads. But what exactly it was, I had yet to learn. I posted about it on social media, adding a vague caption. Unsurprisingly, the post sank without a single comment. I wasn’t expecting much anyway. Zach had already agreed to teach me, and that was all that mattered. That night, I slept soundly, waking up the following day feeling refreshed. When I checked my phone, the post from last night had been bumped up with a comment in the middle of the night. It was from a random account with a default avatar and a gibberish username: “Where did you find such a cursed thing?” “Cursed?” I typed back quickly. “I just picked it up on the road.” The reply came instantly: “Have you been dealing with someone strange?” Strange? Zach Carter certainly fits the bill. “What is this stuff, anyway?” I asked. But the person avoided the question, telling me not to go anywhere at night for the next few days and not to trust anyone. As if I’d listen. The chance to transform myself was proper in front of me. I didn’t care if it meant walking straight into hell. Before heading out that night, I put on the nicest dress I owned, styled my hair, and spritzed on some perfume. I made sure to pass by Hailey on purpose. She spat a grape seed and sneered, “Ugly is still ugly, no matter how much you dress up. Who’s the poor blind soul you’re trying to impress? Don’t you worry about giving them nightmares?” For the first time, her words didn’t sting. At the studio door, I hesitated as I entered the code Zach had sent me. The clock struck 9 PM. Strangely, I heard noises that weren’t coming from the main door but rather … from beneath the floor? Before I could investigate further, something brushed against me. “Zach?” I whispered. The room was pitch dark, and a sickly, rotten stench hit my overly sensitive nose, making it hard to breathe. Whoever it was stayed silent, their hands roaming freely over me. I had mentally prepared for this, but their aggressive pace made me tremble with anxiety. “This isn’t right… I thought you were teaching me yoga?” My protests were useless against the overpowering force holding me. For nearly thirty years, I’d never even been kissed. Now, I was being stripped bare in mere moments. I hunched over, clutching the thin fabric over my chest like a lifeline. But my awkward resistance only seemed to excite him further. His hot breath hit my face, wet and heavy, like a panting dog: “Huff…” With one hand, he effortlessly pinned my arms above my head, leaving me completely vulnerable. RIP. The sound of tearing fabric shattered the last of my defenses. I stopped resisting. If this was the price of becoming beautiful, so be it. As his hands explored every inch of me, my body gradually softened, unfamiliar sensations coursing through me. Just when he was about to take the final step, he suddenly stopped. A faint rustling sound broke through the silence. “What’s that?” I asked, leaning weakly against him, still catching my breath. The man abruptly pulled away before I could process anything, leaving me exposed and confused. In an instant, my wrists and ankles were wrapped in those same fine, silky threads, pulling tight—then yanking me in four different directions. “Ahhh!” A sharp, searing pain shot through me, overwhelming every nerve.
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