Jason had grown increasingly uneasy about Amelia’s stories of her father’s strange habits. “Cold showers? That’s not normal, especially with how strict he is about it,” he pointed out one night. Amelia brushed it off at first, laughing. “That’s just how my dad is. He believes in tough love,” she explained, trying to normalize the discomfort she had grown used to.

But Jason wasn’t convinced. One day, while Amelia was out, he visited the house. He wanted to know more, to understand what exactly was happening. When he went to the bathroom Amelia used, curiosity got the better of him. He picked up the bar of soap her father had insisted she use. Something about it felt off. It had a strange texture, and when he looked closer, his stomach churned. Embedded within the soap were small, barely noticeable holes. Jason’s heart pounded as a horrifying realization set in.

When Amelia came home, Jason confronted her, holding the soap in his hands, his face pale. “Amelia, there’s something wrong with this,” he said, his voice shaking. “This isn’t just soap.”

Confused and alarmed, Amelia took the soap from him, examining it for the first time. She had never thought to question it, never thought to look closely. But now,