Tout Allait Bien… Jusqu’à Cette Nuit-Là | L’Histoire Vraie D’Une Jeune Mariée PART 2
What if the person you loved was hiding a secret so deep it could destroy you? Evelyine thought she had found love, stability, a future. But on her wedding night, a simple joke would become a gateway to the invisible. When prayer becomes war, when faith unleashes cries from elsewhere, what can be done? Flee, remain silent, or fight? What you are about to hear is more than just a story.
It is a confrontation between light and darkness, between a pregnant woman and an ancient spirit. Stay until the end. Every minute will bring you closer to a disturbing truth. Sometimes, the danger doesn’t come from outside, but from the one sleeping next to you. If you like strong, mysterious and intense stories, subscribe and like the page.
Every click brings us closer, and this is just the beginning. Part Two. Eveline hadn’t slept since she saw her daughter’s eyes blink vertically like a snake; something inside her had frozen. She hadn’t told anyone, not even Pastor Dick, not even Martins. She had simply rocked her daughter over and over again, murmuring verses between her teeth, hoping that the fire of her faith would be enough.
But in the night, the little girl laughed. A high-pitched laugh, too high-pitched. And sometimes she didn’t cry, she whistled. Evelyine watched him and her fear grew. One evening, when she had changed, she saw something, a red line on her back, thin, curved like a scale. She called Martins, her throat tight.
Look there, tell me I’m going crazy. He approached, pale. He gently touched the line and recoiled as if burned. Eveline, he murmured, said, “Say something.” He stared at her. “It’s not over. What do you mean? It’s not over?” Evelyine cried, her voice trembling. Martins did not respond immediately.
His gaze was fixed, lost, on their baby. “Mart, speak!” Evelyine begged. He sat slowly on the edge of the bed, burying his head in his hands. “I thought the fire had set me free.” I truly believed it. “But what?” He looked up at her, despairing. There was one condition, Eveline, that’s what he whispered to me that night.
“What did I forget to tell you, tell me!” she shouted. Martin took a deep breath. The snake told me: “If you chase me away, I will leave. But if I leave the father’s body , it is to better inhabit that of the child.” Eveline’s heart skipped a beat. You knew it. Did you know that it was your baby he was after? I thought it was just a threat, that it was over, but Eveline complied.
The fire had purified Martins. Yes, but he hadn’t destroyed the spirit. He had moved it. “My daughter is not an empty shell,” she yelled. “This demon has no right to inhabit it.” Eveline took the little girl in her arms. No one will take my child. Person. But just as she said those words, the light in the room flickered.
A voice rose, weak and hissing. Not Martins’ voice, nor Eveline’s, but that of a being hidden between two worlds. And that voice whispered: “Too late!” Eveline jumped. “Who spoke?” she shouted. She held her baby against her chest, her eyes searching the room. Martin had jumped up . “Did you hear that?” he asked. She shook her head, her lips trembling.
Was it in the walls or in her? The baby, peaceful just seconds before, opened its eyes. Deep, dark eyes, seemingly. Eveline stepped back in a panic. Lord Jesus. The little girl blinked again, this time normally. Then she started to cry. A standing Christ that made the windows creak. Evelyine rocked her despite her fear.
Martins took the steps into the room. We need to call Pastor Dick. NOW ? “No,” Evelyine replied firmly. Not yet. For what ? Because I first want to understand what lives within her. It’s not just a spirit, it’s an entity and it has chosen us. Martin turned towards her, his eyes wide. Do you want to confront it in your own child? No.
I want to know if our child is still there. An icy silence followed. Then Eveline made a decision. She was going to consult a woman whom her mother had always forbidden her to see. Mama Funania, a former seer turned prophetess, a woman whose visions made even pastors tremble. She lived on the edge of the city, where the light stops.
And Evelyine knew that if she went there, she would discover what even angels refused to say out loud. The next day at dawn, Eveline took a thick cloth, covered her baby’s head and left without a word. Martins was still asleep or pretending to be. The taxi she had booked stopped in front of an old house lost between two vacant lots.
A bamboo fence separated her from the world. “Is this it?” asked the driver, looking uneasy. “Yes, I’m not waiting for you.” It started immediately. Evelyine took a deep breath, the little girl in her arms. She knocked three times on the door. A voice answered : “Come in. The door isn’t locked.” She entered.
The scent of damp wood and foliage filled her nostrils. Seated in the center of the room was a hunched woman with dark, wrinkled skin like bark. She raised her blind eyes. White. Veiled. “You have come,” she said without even looking at her. “The wife of the freed man.” Eveline shuddered. “Do you know who I am? Spirits speak, especially those who have.
But you haven’t come for your husband. No, she is my daughter. The child with the reptilian gaze,” Mama Funia said, smiling. She held out her hand. ” Give her to me.” “No,” Evelyine exclaimed, taking a step back. “You want answers ? Then let me feel her breath.” Evelyine hesitated, then slowly held out the baby.
Mama Funia placed her hand on the child’s chest. Then she let out a cry, a long, deep, ancient cry. She recoiled, shaken. “It’s not a baby,” she murmured. “Is it a jar?” “A what?” “A welcome jar?” A receptacle? Someone placed something inside her. Someone who is waiting for their moment. Eveline felt her legs weaken. Is it reversible? Mama Funania remained silent.
Then she spoke her words. You can save his body, but you will have to travel to the world from which the spirit comes. To travel. Yes, Evely, in dreams, in the invisible. and what you will see there will try to kill you. Are you saying I have to sleep to enter this world? Eveline asked, her voice breaking. Mama Funagia slowly raised her head.
PART2
Not sleeping, giving up between 3am and 4am. When the border is thinnest, when the living lose their way and the dead slip away . And if I don’t come back, you won’t come back if you go alone. Mama took out a small bottle of clay sealed with a black cloth. Drink this at midnight, then sleep with your child against your stomach and pray.
Not with your mouth, Evelyine, but with your mind. He’s the one who will open the door. Eveline hesitated. And what should I be looking for there? Mama Funagna’s expression darkened. The seaside hotel. What? An underwater sanctuary, invisible to the eyes, but built in the soul. That’s where he’s waiting.
Who ? The old woman slowly raised her eyes. The talking snake. Eveline hugged her daughter tightly . And if I find it, you’ll have three choices. To beg him, to deceive him, or to fight him. And if I lose, then the child will forget you and the spirit will grow in her like a black seed and one day, she will no longer be called your daughter.
A shiver froze Eveline’s neck. “You can run away now,” Mama Funania continued. But if you stay, you’re going to war. Evelyine took the bottle. I am not running away . Midnight. Evelyine placed the small bottle on the bedside table. The room was plunged into a heavy silence. Martins was asleep in the next room, completely unaware of what his wife was about to do.
She gently cradled her daughter, wrapped her in a thick basket and laid her against her chest. She took the bottle. “Lord, cover me,” she whispered. She drank. The taste was bitter, too bitter. Then the liquid became warm, sliding down his throat like fel. His heart raced, his vision blurred. She tried to pray but her lips refused to move. Everything is getting darker.
And then suddenly, she fell. Not physically, his mind. She was falling as if the ground beneath her had disappeared. Then she landed in an impossible place, a green ground, a red sky, a sea suspended above her, floating upside down like a sheet of heavy water. And in the center, a gigantic building made of scales and chains.
She was at the seaside hotel, but she wasn’t alone. A tall figure awaited her, enveloped in a flowing, faceless dress. She spoke without a mouth. You came bearing fire. Who are you ? Eveline asked, her throat tight. I am the guardian of the doors and your passing has awakened the room. I’m here to pick up my daughter. The guard approached.
Then go home. But know this: in this world, everything you believe will be tested. And if I lose myself, then you will become what you fight against. Eveline stepped forward. The hotel doors opened and a distant, hissing voice called out from inside. Eveline, I was waiting for you. Eveline entered. The air inside the seaside hotel was liquid.
Each step seemed to float as if she were walking in a viscous dream. The walls were made of broken mirrors. Each shard reflected a fragment of her past. She, a little girl, praying in secret. She, a teenager, refused the advances of a rich man. She was there on her wedding day. Martin was smiling, but his eyes were empty. Suddenly, a mirror vibrated.
She approached it. A face appeared, his own but altered, reptilian eyes, a cruel smile, the reflection murmured. What if you were the real portal? Eveline stepped back. Heart pounding. I am a child of God! She shouted. The reflection smiles. So, why did your stomach accept my seed? Crack ! The mirror exploded.
Eveline screamed, covering her face. Then she turned around and saw the immense, circular room, lined with water dripping from the ceiling in glistening drops. In the center, a cradle. “And in this cradle, my daughter,” Evveline murmured, tears in her eyes. But next to the cradle, someone was waiting.
Seated on a throne of sea bone, the snake man wore a cloak made of golden scales. Her face was blurry, changing. One second, it was Martins. The next second, a stranger with red eyes. He spoke. Welcome to my home, Evelyine. She approached slowly. Give me back my child. No, I made it myself. You carried the seed.
But it was here that the soul was blown out. You’re lying. He laughed. Do you believe that flesh alone is enough to create life? Mine is in her and I’m proposing another deal to you. Eveline froze. You have nothing to offer that I cannot reject. The throne rose. The snake man approached. So come and get her if you think the light in you is stronger than the dark water in her.
And suddenly, the room collapsed. Water gushes from the ground. Snakes emerged from the ceiling. And Eveline shouted, “Jesus!” Eveline stood straight. The water rose around her, dark, cold, alive. Snakes in the ceiling, forming a circle above his head. The serpent man’s throne was now floating, carried by an invisible sea.
His voice echoed throughout the room. Choose Eveline, power or loss. She raised her hand, holding her Bible firmly in the other. I did not come to negotiate. I came to take back what is mine. The snake man laughed. A laugh swells. Don’t you understand? This place is timeless. Here, your prayer is but a whisper.
Here, it is my language that must be spoken. Suddenly, Evelyine felt her mouth go dry. His voice caught in his throat. “Jesus,” she murmured, but no sound came out. “Here,” the spirit continued, “the light is foreign.” You cannot speak to the sky without understanding the rules of the waters. He snapped his fingers.
A circle of water opened on the ground and Evelyine saw her older daughter, about 10 years old, dressed in white. But her eyes, her eyes were no longer human. She floated peacefully as if she were sleeping in a cocoon of water. “She is becoming mine,” the snake murmured. Eveline screamed but still no sound came out .
She turned towards the red sky above her and prayed silently, but not with her mouth, with her heart. Lord, give me a tongue that will pass through water. Then, a light slowly descended from the ceiling. A fire, but a fire that doesn’t burn. And Evelyine felt a voice being born within her. Not in French, not in English. not in a known language, but a forgotten language, the language of the spirit.
She opened her mouth and spoke. Each word made the walls tremble, each syllable made the snakes retreat. The throne rumbled. The snake screamed and Evelyine stepped forward. The hand outstretched towards the cocoon. “Come back to me,” she roared in that invisible tongue. And the little girl opened her eyes.
For a moment, then the water closed again and everything went black. Blackness, silence, nothing. Then a soft, distant voice. Eveline opened her eyes. She was back in the room, or at least something that looked like it. But everything was grey, a blur. The walls were flowing like sand. The bed was covered in mist and in the cradle, her daughter, peaceful, asleep, she approached, her heart beating, her legs seemed to float.
She stretched out her arms, but the moment her hands touched the baby, blood spurted out, and the mattress turned bright red. And Eveline saw the inscription engraved in the wood of the cradle. Blood awakens what sleeps. She stepped back in a panic. Eveline’s voice again. She turned around and saw Martin, but not as he was in real life.
Young, too young, almost a teenager. He was crying. “I’ve been waiting for you here,” he murmured. “It wasn’t you,” she replied. He smiled sadly. No, it’s the fragment of him that you loved. the one I locked up here to survive. Evelyine felt her legs weaken. You are a memory. I am the padlock. The padlock of what? From his heart.
A flash of lightning crossed the room. The ground vibrated and a voice deeper, more resonant than anything she had ever heard before echoed in her mind. If you open that door, Eveline, you will bleed. She turned towards the cradle. The baby was no longer there, just a red puddle and a distant, high-pitched cry.
She ran towards the exit, but the room no longer had walls, no ceiling, only an endless red sea and in the middle, a circle of women. All pregnant, their bellies open, sewn with gold. She was humming, and in the center stood her daughter with empty eyes. And Evelyine understood that it was no longer a dream, it was a prison.
And her child was born with a calling in her blood, a calling to which she would soon answer. The women sang deep sounds from another age. Their mouths didn’t move, but the mother vibrated with every note. Eveline remained frozen. Her daughter stood motionless in the center of the circle, looking straight ahead.
She wore a long dress made of seaweed threads and black pearls. Then one of the women raised her hand. She spoke without words, but Eveline understood. promising approach. She advanced slowly. The mother did not wet her feet. She glided over it as if the water recognized her. Who are you ? She asked. ” We are the mothers of silence,” the voice echoed from the depths.
Those who give birth to the chosen of the depths, those who shed blood to nourish the lineages. “You placed this thing in my daughter,” Evelyine cried. The women did not react. Another raised her hand. “Your lineage has been chosen.” This is not an accident. Your grandmother ran away. Your mother knows, but you have returned and the child is whole. No ! Eveline cried.
She is not yours. The women bowed their heads. The child carries two voices, two names, two voices, one light, one scale. Then they began to circle around the little girl, singing louder. The mother rose in a spiral. A vortex formed beneath Eveline’s feet. “Give it to us,” a final voice whispered. Never.
But then her daughter turned to her for the first time and said in an old-fashioned voice, “Mother, why do you want to destroy me?” Eveline felt her heart break. I want to save you. ” I’m not lost,” said the child. You are not yourself! Eveline murmured, tears in her eyes. What if that was me? What if the monster is the prayer you refuse to hear? Then Eveline saw something on her own palm, a mark in the shape of a coiled snake.
“No, no, no!” she murmured. The women laugh. “You don’t want to know the secret, Evelyine? You just want to undo it? Tell me the truth!” she yelled. A silence, then a simple, devastating sentence. ” The child’s father wasn’t Martin. Thank you for watching this story. See you in part three to find out who the real father of Eveline’s daughter was. Thank you and see you very soon.
Bye bye my besties. M.”
