In the middle of a nun’s autopsy, the medical examiner notices a very strange detail on the body: a tattoo with a sinister message on her back. “Don’t perform the autopsy, please. Wait two hours.” Minutes later, when the morgue is overrun and the nun’s body mysteriously disappears, the doctor panics as he realizes what was really happening. “But, but, what is this? Is this a tattoo? What is that on her body, Dr. Fonseca?” Camilo asked, taking two hurried steps back, as if something had pushed him.

His eyes were fixed on the motionless body on the metal gurney, and his voice trembled with uncertainty. Across the cold room, surrounded by white tiles and surgical instruments, the most experienced forensic pathologist there, Dr. Fonseca, who had just opened a cabinet for scalpels and forceps, turned around, frowning. “What do you mean, a tattoo? What did you see, Dr. Camilo?” he asked, clearly intrigued, as he approached slowly.

Stretched out on the stainless steel gurney was something not seen every day in that morgue: the body of a nun. She still wore the black habit, tightly fitted to her young, delicate frame. Her pale, angelic face looked more like that of someone fast asleep than someone lifeless, but she was dead, and there was no clear explanation for her death. Camilo, the younger of the two forensic examiners, remained silent for a few seconds.

He waited for his colleague to approach, trying to find the right words for what he had just seen. “Did you see a tattoo on her, Camilo? Is that it?” the senior doctor repeated, trying to understand what was bothering his colleague so much. “I was looking and I noticed an opening in her habit. It looks like there’s a tattoo on her back. I’m not sure,” he replied, visibly disturbed. Fonseca, with the calm of someone who had been in that role for many years, crossed his arms and pondered.

“Could it just be your imagination, or is it actually a tattoo?” he said, pausing briefly before continuing. “Not everyone follows the path of faith from a young age. Sometimes a person lives in the world, gets marked, and only later dedicates themselves to religious life. It could be a memento from the past. Nothing unusual.” Camilo took a deep breath, looked at his colleague, and asked something he’d perhaps been holding onto since the beginning of that shift.

In all these years here, have you ever performed an autopsy on a nun? Fonseca, who had already worked in that morgue for over a decade, raised his eyebrows. To be honest, never, not even in my wildest dreams. I was surprised when the delegate sent the body here. You know, when there’s an autopsy, it’s because there’s a suspicion of a crime, and a murder in a convent? That sounds almost absurd. Surreal or not, Camilo said in a more serious tone. We’re looking at a nun, and I confess I’m still intrigued by that supposed tattoo.

Fonseca nodded. He seemed to understand his colleague’s unease. Then they began preparing for the procedure. But before they could begin the autopsy, an icy wind suddenly swept into the room, causing the window to burst open with a crash. Papers on the table flew across the room, instruments rattled. Camilo shuddered. His body reacted with an intense chill. He immediately turned to the body on the gurney and, with a lump in his throat, asked, “Do you really think we should do this, Doctor?”

“To touch a nun, someone so sacred?” Fonseca didn’t answer immediately, only let out a long sigh. His eyes were fixed on the nun’s body, and he, too, felt the same chill. Something in the air had changed. Even so, he spoke firmly. “This is our job, Camilo. Whoever it is, we need to find answers. We need to know the cause of death.” He paused and finished. “Sometimes life puts us in front of things that seem wrong, but are necessary.”

The young doctor, still hesitant, nodded. They both took a deep breath. The veteran then took the initiative. “Let’s continue. Where did you say you saw something?” “On the back,” Camilo replied. “Through the opening in the habit. There’s something there.” “It seems so.” Fonseca approached the examination table and examined carefully. “Let me see.” As he drew closer, he leaned over the body. Indeed, there was a small tear in the fabric of the black habit, and through it, a piece of skin was visible, and on it, something strange.

A dark mark, small but visible. The medical examiner then looked at Camilo. The two exchanged a brief, confirming glance. It was enough. “Help me turn her over,” Fonseca asked. Carefully and respectfully, the two doctors placed the nun’s body face down on the icy examination table. Before beginning, Fonseca closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and murmured a prayer. He asked God for forgiveness, because even though it was his profession, touching someone consecrated in that way made him feel a weight on his chest.

“Pass me some scissors,” he asked. Camilo handed him the instrument, and Fonseca began to carefully cut the back of the habit, but it only took a few centimeters for his eyes to widen. What he saw there wasn’t a simple tattoo; it was an inscription, something written. “Is there any truth to this?” Fonseca murmured, somewhere between shock and curiosity. “I told you so,” Camilo exclaimed, “’Is there something there, something written?’” Moved by an urgency to understand, Fonseca quickened his movements, fully revealing the nun’s back.

And then, as if time had stopped, the two doctors froze. Their eyes widened, their faces paled, and for a moment, they were speechless. Neither dared to blink. Silence filled the room as if the morgue itself had held its breath with them. “Is that what I’m reading, Doctor? I’m not imagining things, am I?” Camilo asked, his voice trembling with fear. Fonseca, still holding the scissors, his hands now shaking, answered without taking his eyes off the inscription.

If you’re imagining something, then so am I. As if needing to confirm what he saw, as if his eyes weren’t enough, the experienced Dr. Fonseca extended his trembling hand and delicately ran his index finger over the writing. His lips moved slowly as he quietly read the words etched on the young nun’s back. “Please do not perform an autopsy on my body. Wait two hours. What you need is in the pocket of my habit.” The silence that followed was almost as unsettling as the message.

Fonseca, still leaning over the body, remained motionless for a few seconds as if trying to process it. It was absurd, inexplicable, unprecedented. Camilo, seized by an almost youthful restlessness, didn’t wait for further instructions. He took a few steps forward, leaning over the nun. He quickly scanned the side of the black habit until he spotted two discreet pockets sewn into the fabric. Nothing in the first, but when he put his fingers in the second, he felt something. His eyes widened. “Doctor Fonseca, there’s something here.

It looks small, it looks like a… He slowly pulled out the object and then finished the sentence, his voice cracking with astonishment. A USB drive. It was as if time froze for a moment. Camilo stood motionless, the small USB device in his hands, as Fonseca slowly approached. The older man took the object and turned it over in his fingers. It was made of ordinary black plastic, seemingly harmless, but the feeling surrounding it was anything but reassuring. “What’s inside this?” Camilo asked, his voice now a little firmer, though his nervousness was still evident.

Fonseca examined the flash drive for a few more seconds, then looked up at his colleague. “If that message is real, if she herself left this, then this flash drive might contain some evidence, some answers about what happened to this nun.” He paused briefly and continued. “It’s strange the police didn’t find it. Maybe they didn’t search carefully enough. But now that it’s in our hands, let’s find out together what happened.” With the flash drive in his hands, Fonseca walked quickly into the next room.

Camilo followed him immediately, his heart pounding with every step. They sat down in front of the computer, turned it on, and waited in silence while the operating system loaded. The tension in the air was almost unbearable. The silence between them was heavy, broken only by the whir of the computer fan and the nervous tapping of Camilo’s fingers on the table. When the system finally booted up, Fonseca inserted the USB drive and waited. The screen flickered. In seconds, a single folder appeared.

Camilo pointed to the monitor. “It’s a video. There’s a video file there.” Fonseca nodded slightly. His eyes were fixed on the screen. “Are you ready?” he asked. “Yes, open it,” Camilo replied, almost breathless. The experienced forensic scientist clicked on the file. The image loaded, and what they saw next made their stomachs churn. The same nun appeared in the video. Her face was dejected, pale, and her eyes were filled with fear. She was sitting on the edge of a bed in a simple room with a cross on the wall and a window at the far end.

It was night. The light was dim, but enough to see her expression of anguish. “If you’re watching this video, it’s because my body is in a morgue, ready for an autopsy. Or perhaps I had an even worse fate,” she said, her breath ragged. “I don’t have much time.” And then, as if fate wanted to confirm it, loud knocks echoed on the door of the room. The nun looked desperately to the side. “Don’t trust Mother Superior Ursula.”

She’s not who everyone thinks she is. Don’t trust her, for God’s sake. Before he could continue, the video abruptly cut off. Camilo put his hands to his head. His eyes widened, and he murmured, “It was the nun. The nun did this to him.” Fonseca swallowed hard. He was visibly shaken. “I don’t know, but the police need to look into this immediately. Somehow, the nun from the convent is involved, that’s clear.” They both watched the video again.

They were looking for details, any additional clue. They noticed it had been recorded with a laptop webcam. The dim lighting made it difficult to analyze the surroundings, but there was no doubt. It was the same face, the same woman who at that moment lay on the cold stretcher in the next room. They tried to identify shadows, reflections, any indication that there was someone else in the room, but there was nothing, only the nun’s desperate voice and the knocking on the door. They were watching it for the third time, listening intently.

They were deep in thought when they were interrupted. A sudden sound made them jump. Knocking, but this time it wasn’t coming from the video camera. “Did you hear that?” Camilo asked, turning around. Fonseca stood up from his chair, his eyes fixed on the door leading to the morgue hallway. The knocking continued. Three sharp, insistent taps, a pause, and then three more. “Stay here, see if you can find anything else. I’ll go check on you,” Fonseca said, walking quickly toward the door. The hallway was shrouded in darkness, with the cold lights flickering occasionally.

The knocking persisted, and a chill ran down the doctor’s spine. “I’m coming!” he called hoarsely, trying to sound composed. As he approached the morgue’s main door, he reached out and slowly turned the handle. When he opened it, the impact almost made him stumble backward. There, standing covered by a white veil, her face serene and a gentle smile on her lips, was a woman with a kind expression. She wore a dark habit, impeccably aligned. A crucifix hung around her neck.

 

It took Fonseca a second to recognize her. It was the Mother Superior, Ursula’s superior. For a few seconds, Fonseca was simply frozen. It was as if time around him had slowed down. The nun, standing in the morgue’s entrance, smiled gently. Her face was serene, her gaze steady and penetrating. “Mother, what are you doing here?” he stammered, still trying to believe what he was seeing. The woman, about sixty years old, maintained her calm smile and answered in a sweet, almost melodious voice.

Good evening, my son. I know you have one of us with you, Sister Gabriela. That name echoed in the doctor’s mind. Gabriela thought for a moment, associating it with the nun’s body still lying on the metal gurney in the cold room next door. Yes, the body is here. I am so sorry for your loss, he said with a sorrowful expression. The mother sighed, her chest rising slightly beneath the dark habit. It’s been very difficult.

Gabriela was a vibrant young woman with such a pure spirit. She will be sorely missed at the convent. Fonseca simply nodded. Inwardly, he was still wondering what he was doing there so late at night. The visit was, to say the least, unusual. The nun continued, her gaze more attentive. “The autopsy has already been performed.” The doctor noticed the direct tone of the question but answered honestly. “We’ll begin the procedure in a few minutes.” “Why?” The nun relaxed her shoulders, showing some relief.

A new smile spread across her face, even wider than the last. “The thing is, my son, I was in another part of town when it all happened. I went to do some shopping for the convent. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the chance to say goodbye to Sister Gabriela.” She paused briefly and then asked, “I would like to know if it’s possible to see her one last time.” The instant Fonseca looked into his mother’s eyes again, he felt something strange.

A sudden chill ran through his entire body, from the nape of his neck to his spine. It was a different kind of chill, a sign. Despite being a man of science, Fonseca also possessed a quiet faith. He believed in God, said his silent prayers in the morgue corridors, and also prayed for the souls of those who arrived there, that they might find the kingdom of God. He had been in the presence of that mother before; he had always considered her a figure of peace.

But now, now there was something different, something unsettling, something wrong. It was in that instant that everything around him seemed to fade away. Reality dissolved for a moment, and Fonseca saw, as if in a vision, a simple room with light-colored walls and a small cross above the bed. In the center of the scene, Gabriela, the deceased nun, appeared, walking slowly toward him. She placed her hands on his shoulders, looked him in the eyes, and whispered anxiously, “Don’t trust the Mother Superior, please, don’t trust her.” In the blink of an eye, the vision vanished.

He was back at the entrance to the morgue, facing the mother who watched him with the same serene smile. “My son,” she called, trying to bring him back from his trance. Fonseca shook his head slightly and blinked, trying to compose himself. The chill returned, intense, and although everything seemed normal to anyone looking from the outside, a voice echoed in his mind: “Don’t trust the mother. Don’t trust the mother.” Taking a deep breath, the doctor straightened up and replied, “I’m sorry, Mother, but only authorized personnel are allowed in the autopsy room.”

It’s a very strict protocol. I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to see the body now. Ursula, still smiling, bowed her head slightly. But, my son, I need to say goodbye to Sister Gabriela. I need to say one last prayer so she can go with God. She spoke tenderly, almost pleadingly, but Fonseca couldn’t shake the unease he felt. His heart pounded. Every word from his mother seemed to carry a hidden weight, as if there were something unspoken behind that request.

Mother. I’m sorry, but I really can’t allow it. They’re rules. If I disobey them, I could lose my job. The woman took a step forward, her voice lower and heavy with supplication. Please, no one has to know. Just one last prayer. Fonseca shook his head. I really can’t. I know you’ll be able to pray for this young woman’s soul at the wake. I’m sure God will hear your prayers. It was then, when she saw him, for a split second, that the mother’s expression subtly shifted.

Her eyes seemed to darken, and her smile vanished for a moment. Fonseca couldn’t tell if he’d imagined it or if her face had truly changed, even for a second. Before he could say anything else, a shout ripped through the air from inside the morgue. “Dr. Fonseca! Dr. Fonseca, come quickly, it’s urgent!” The voice was Camilo’s, and the desperation was impossible to ignore. Fonseca glanced quickly at the mother. “Excuse me, I need to go,” he said, turning and hurriedly closing the door behind him, rushing off to his colleague’s call.

But he missed one detail. The mother, with swift movements, had slipped her foot under the door before it closed completely. Effortlessly, she pushed the door back open and slipped discreetly into the morgue. Her steps were soft, almost silent, as she crossed the corridor. Fonseca, further ahead, was running through the cold hallways, attentive only to Camilo’s incessant shouts. “Doctor, for God’s sake, come here now! You have to see this!” The doctor ran with his heart racing and his mind full of questions, unaware that the mother was also there, just a few steps behind.

Taking it all in, Fonseca continued running as fast as he could. His footsteps echoed in the cold, silent corridors of the morgue. As he turned the last corner, he bumped into Camilo. The young doctor was standing in the doorway of the autopsy room, his eyes wide and sweating profusely, his face pale and his expression bordering on panic. Fonseca stopped in front of him, still panting from running, and asked, “What happened, Camilo? What happened to leave you like this?” Camilo could barely speak.

He took a deep breath, trying to control the trembling of his hands, and replied, “You have to see it for yourself. Come on.” Without another word, Camilo stepped aside, making room for Fonseca to enter. The more experienced doctor took a hesitant step, feeling a chill run down his spine. Something in the young man’s gaze told him that what awaited him inside was anything but ordinary. Fonseca slowly approached the entrance to the room, his heart pounding. When he finally reached the open door and peered inside, he brought his hand to his mouth in shock.

“Where? Where is she?” he asked, his voice anguished whisper. Camilo looked at him, nodding slightly in confirmation. “That’s why I’m like this, Dr. Fonseca. The nun’s body, her body disappeared. Vanished without a trace.” Before Fonseca could react, another voice echoed from them. A woman’s voice, firm and sudden. “What? How come Sister Gabriela’s body disappeared?” They both turned at the same time. It was the mother. Úrsula had slipped into the morgue unnoticed and now stood watching them with a tense expression.

“No, this can’t be happening,” she murmured, slowly crossing the threshold. “How does a body go missing in the morgue unless… No, it can’t be?” Fonseca took a step forward, his voice even firmer. “I told her she couldn’t come in, but the mother didn’t respond. She completely ignored the reprimand. She continued walking, her eyes fixed on the now-empty room, until she stopped a few steps ahead. Then she muttered a single word through gritted teeth. The sound of that word coming from the mouth of a woman who had always been peaceful and devout sent an immediate chill down the spines of both doctors.

It was as if something invisible had frozen the air inside. Clearly, that woman was hiding something, but to understand what was really happening, to know why Sister Gabriela’s body had disappeared, why she had left a recording asking them not to trust the mother, it was necessary to go back in time. Earlier that same week, on a seemingly ordinary night at the Santa Bárbara convent, the young nun Gabriela was finishing her chores in the kitchen.

As usual, she had prepared some pastries for breakfast the next day. It was one of her favorite things to do, taking care of the sisters with small gestures of affection. Before going to her room, she cut a slice of warm pastry, drank a glass of juice, and headed to Mother Superior Ursula’s office. She deeply admired that woman. She saw her as an example of faith and dedication. Upon reaching the door, she knocked twice.

From inside came the calm, familiar reply. “Come in.” Gabriela opened the door gently. She had a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye. “Excuse me, Mother Ursula. I brought you a small piece of cake and a glass of juice, a light snack before bed.” “The cake is nice and warm, just the way you like it,” she said as she walked to the table and placed the plate and glass down. Ursula smiled. “Oh, Gabriela, you really are perfect, sister, but you’re going to make me fat this way.” She joked good-naturedly, letting out a light laugh as she raised her fork to her mouth to taste it.

“I’m glad you like it, Mother,” Gabriela replied sincerely. “It’s the least I can do. You do so much for us. It’s a pleasure to serve you and to serve God.” After a brief exchange, the young nun said goodbye and left the room. She walked calmly to her bedroom. She sat on her bed and opened a book. It was part of her routine to read a little before going to sleep. She read for a few minutes, her eyelids already heavy with sleep.

When she felt fatigue overcoming her, she closed the book, said a short prayer, and lay down, smiling, at peace for having accomplished another day of good deeds. She was almost asleep when a sudden sound made her jump. A sharp noise, like a stifled cry. Startled, she put her hand to her chest. What was that? she murmured, trying to understand if it had really happened or if she was dreaming. She tried to push the thought away. I must have imagined it. Maybe it was just a dream.

She lay back down, adjusting her pillow, trying to convince herself there was no danger. But her unease grew. Her feet began to move nervously, and her mind wouldn’t calm down. What if it really was a scream? What if one of the sisters needed help? Overcome by doubt, she got out of bed. She carefully opened her bedroom door. The hallway was dark. No lights on. All was silent. The other nuns were probably already asleep. Yes, it must have been my imagination, she murmured, ready to go back.

But then her stomach growled. She smiled to herself. Since I’m awake, I’ll take the opportunity to have a snack. She started walking down the corridor toward the refectory. Everything was quiet until she turned a corner and stopped abruptly. The kitchen was lit up. Someone was there. But before we continue, please like, subscribe to the channel, and turn on notifications. That way, YouTube will always notify you when a new video is uploaded. Now tell me, are you for or against autopsies?

Do you think it’s really necessary to intervene in the death of someone who has already passed away to discover the cause? Or do you think that regardless of how they died, they should simply be mourned? Tell me in the comments and let me know what city you’re watching this video from, and I’ll mark your comment with a cute heart. Now, back to our story, Gabriela stood still in the hallway for a few seconds, watching the kitchen lights on in the distance. She frowned and muttered under her breath to herself, “But who could be there?” The nuns weren’t in the habit of wandering around the convent in the early hours of the morning.

After the final prayers, everyone retired to their rooms, and rarely did anyone break that routine. In the rooms she had passed, all the doors were closed, indicating that everyone should already be asleep. Driven by a strange feeling in her chest, a disquiet that went beyond mere curiosity, Gabriela began walking toward the kitchen. Her steps were slow and silent, and the sound of her feet on the cold tiles echoed softly in the hallway.

Upon reaching the kitchen entrance, the scene before her raised her eyebrows in surprise. Seated on a chair near the refrigerator, greedily devouring a large piece of cake and drinking juice straight from the pitcher, was none other than Mother Superior Ursula. “Mother,” the young nun blurted out, confused by what she saw. Ursula was slightly startled, but quickly smiled, trying to hide her reaction. “Oh, Sister, do you think I woke up hungry? I had to come raid the refrigerator.”

May God forgive me. She gave a small, sideways laugh and finished. But someone got to it before I did. The cake was already cut. Gabriela narrowed her eyes suspiciously. It was the cake I brought her before bed. Don’t you remember? Of course, of course I remember, sister. Look, it was so good I came for more, replied the mother as she greedily popped another piece of cake into her mouth. She immediately got up and started looking for more things to eat.

Gabriela watched her closely. Her mother’s habit was disheveled, her hair a little out of place. There was something odd about her appearance, something that didn’t match her usual demeanor. “Are you alright, Mother?” she asked, even more attentively. “Of course, yes, just a little hungry, but everything’s fine,” she replied, taking a piece of bread with trembling hands. “And what are you doing up at this hour, sister? I thought I heard a noise, someone shouting.”

“I came to see what it was,” Gabriela explained, crossing her arms, still uncomfortable with what she saw. Hearing this, Ursula roughly put the bread down on the table. “Noise? What exactly did you hear?” “I don’t really know. It sounded like a shout, but it must have been my imagination.” Her mother seemed visibly relieved. She relaxed her shoulders and said, “Yes, it was your imagination.” Gabriela, still wary, asked permission to sit down and make a sandwich too. “Of course, sister, sit down,” Ursula replied, going back to chewing.

The two remained there for a few minutes. They ate in silence, barely exchanging glances, until the mother said, “Well, now I’m going to lie down for a bit. Will you come with me to my room, sister?” “Of course, Mother.” Gabriela nodded, standing up. The two walked together through the convent corridors, illuminated only by the faint moonlight filtering through the windows. Gabriela walked in front, and the mother followed closely behind, glancing discreetly around as if checking something.

They stopped in front of a door. Her mother seemed confused for a moment. “This is it. I mean, thank you, sister.” “You’re welcome,” Gabriela replied, smiling slightly. “Good night, Mother.” She walked away and returned to her own room, but her mind wouldn’t rest. As she lay down, she stared at the ceiling for a while, lost in thought. “Mother seemed a little different,” she whispered to herself before closing her eyes. The next morning, Gabriela got up early as usual. She dressed quickly, tied her hair back, and went straight to the kitchen.

She planned to bake some cheese rolls for breakfast. Afterward, with the help of other sisters, she set the table in the refectory. Most of the nuns were already seated, ready to begin the meal, but there was a notable absence. The Mother Superior had not yet appeared. The middle-aged nun, Sister Susana, turned to Gabriela and asked, “Did you see Mother? Perhaps she hasn’t gotten up yet?” Gabriela frowned. Mother’s absence was indeed unusual.

She was usually the first to wake up and made sure to lead the prayers before each meal. “I’ll check on her,” Gabriela replied, already heading for the hallway. Although she wasn’t one of the oldest nuns, she was close enough to Úrsula to knock on her door. She walked with purposeful steps to the Mother Superior’s room. When she arrived, she knocked once. Nothing. She knocked a second time. Silence. A third time. Still no sound. “Mother. Are you there?” she called, her voice slightly raised.

She was about to turn and go back when she heard the click of the lock. The door opened slowly, and what Gabriela saw left her speechless for a few seconds. Ursula was there, but completely different. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes puffy with sleep, her face pale and tired. And there was something else, a strange smell, a strong smell, the smell of cigarettes. Gabriela coughed involuntarily, partially covering her nose with her hand. “Mother, she’s been sleeping until now.” The Mother Superior glanced quickly at the old watch on her wrist, lifting the sleeve of her habit.

“But it’s not even 8:00 a.m. yet. It’s very early,” she muttered. Gabriela frowned. Temprano seemed to notice the slip. She quickly corrected herself. “I’m sorry, I had a bad night. I had trouble falling asleep after eating so much yesterday, but I’ll get ready.” Where do we have to go, Sister? I forgot. And what’s your name? The young nun blinked in surprise. I’m Gabriela, and we’re going to have breakfast together as usual. Mother, are you alright?

Forgetting my name. We see each other every day. Forgive me, Sister Gabriela. Yes, I’m fine. It was just a bad night, and of course I remember your name; I just had a lapse. That’s all. Gabriela nodded slowly, still suspicious. Her gaze drifted into the room, and then she decided to ask, “And do you smell cigarettes?” The Mother Superior quickly closed the door with an almost brusque gesture and replied with an awkward smile, “Oh, my child, it’s just that I lit some incense.”

It’s not a cigarette. She paused briefly before finishing. Now I’m going to change and I’ll go to the refectory right away. Ask the other sisters to wait for me. Of course, Mother, Gabriela replied, trying to sound natural, although her gaze reflected distrust. As she walked back to the refectory, her thoughts tormented her. That… That wasn’t incense, it couldn’t be. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. Calm down, Gabriela, you must just be imagining things. Inside the room, the Mother Superior approached the window.

Her fingers gripped a still-lit cigarette tightly. She flicked it out as if disposing of a dangerous secret. “I need to be more careful, or I’ll be found out,” she muttered. Shortly afterward, Ursula appeared in the refectory. Her habit was still slightly disheveled, but no one dared comment. All the nuns were already gathered, holding hands and waiting. She looked around and asked, “Are you waiting for something?” Sister Susana, always the most helpful, stepped forward. “Prayer, Mother. You always lead the prayer.” Suddenly, Mother coughed, clutching her throat.

Her voice came out raspier. “Oh, yes, of course. The thing is, I woke up with a sore throat today. So, Sister Gabriela will lead the morning prayers.” And she turned her gaze directly to Gabriela. Surprised, Gabriela took a few seconds to react, but in the general silence, she took the lead. She began the prayer of the day, and they all repeated it in unison. As soon as they finished, they sat down to eat. The Mother Superior, as the night before, ate voraciously.

Each bite was hurried, almost exaggerated. Gabriela noticed and realized she wasn’t the only one. Other nuns were also exchanging discreet glances, uncomfortable with this unusual behavior. When breakfast was over, Úrsula called Gabriela aside. Her voice was low, almost conspiratorial. “Since I’m unwell, with a sore throat, you’ll be in charge of running the convent today. I’ll just observe.” Gabriela nodded, but a sense of unease was growing within her. This wasn’t normal. The Mother Superior had always insisted on being in charge of everything, on controlling every detail of the convent.

Even so, she replied, “Yes, Mother.” By the end of the day, her anxiety was unbearable. She sought out Sister Susana and spoke almost as a release of her worries. “Sister, something’s wrong with Mother. She’s been acting strangely since last night.” Susana frowned. “I really did notice she was different, but don’t you think it could just be because she’s sick?” Gabriela crossed her arms. “I don’t know, but even if she’s sick… Mother was never like this. She always wanted to be in charge of everything.”

Well, it must just be my imagination, but I have a strange feeling. I really do. Susana placed her hand on her shoulder. It’s alright, Mother must have just had a bad day. Gabriela tried to convince herself of this. Before going to bed, she prepared a small snack and took it to Ursula’s room as usual. “Thank you, now excuse me, I have a few things to take care of,” Mother replied curtly, quite different from the welcoming tone of the previous evening. “Of course, Mother. Good night,” Gabriela said.

But her mother didn’t answer; she simply let her go, closing the door behind her. Back in her room, Gabriela had trouble falling asleep. She tossed and turned, replaying every strange detail of the last two days. She tried to push the thoughts away and convince herself it was all in her imagination. The next morning, her mother came in earlier than usual. She said a short prayer and exchanged a few words of faith with the sisters. She seemed a little more cheerful, but something in her gaze still kept Gabriela on edge.

For a moment, she thought that perhaps Susana was right, perhaps it had just been a bad day. That impression, however, began to crumble when it was time for Mass at the convent. Ursula was at the front of the chapel with everyone gathered when she announced, “My sisters, today we will have a new priest celebrating Mass at our convent, Father Eustace.” A kind-looking man in a green cassock entered, greeting them shyly. But in the first few minutes, Gabriela noticed something strange.

He was completely clumsy. He stumbled over the vestments, forgot the order of the rites, and didn’t give a homily; he simply finished with a hurried gesture. And so we ended our Mass, and he left without further ceremony. The young nun sat for a few seconds, confused. This was wrong. A priest didn’t behave like that, much less at his first Mass in a convent. The following days only increased her suspicions. Small details in Ursula and Eustace’s behavior caught her attention. The priest began to frequent the convent with unusual regularity.

He would appear at any hour of the day and spend long periods in the Mother Superior’s room behind closed doors. It was strange. With other priests, such meetings were rare and brief, but with Eustace there always seemed to be something to discuss away from the ears of the other sisters. Something’s wrong with them, I know it, Gabriela murmured to herself. Whenever she spoke with Susana, she repeated her concerns, but her friend would only shake her head and say, “I think that’s a lack of prayer, Sister Gabriela.”

You’re seeing things that aren’t there. Mother is still the same, and Father Eustaquio might be a little clumsy, yes, but that must be his age. He’s a sweetheart. Susana’s words sounded like an attempt to reassure her, but for Gabriela, they only reinforced the feeling of being alone in her mistrust. Since no one seemed to take her suspicions seriously, the young nun decided to investigate on her own. She needed to know once and for all whether or not there was something strange going on with the Mother Superior.

In recent days, she had noticed strange noises in the early morning hours—footsteps, doors opening, muffled sounds—always when all the nuns should have been asleep. And that night was no different. A metallic clang echoed through the convent as the main gate opened. Without a second thought, Gabriela hurried out of her room, barefoot so as not to make a sound. She made her way down the dark corridor, guided only by the faint moonlight filtering through the windows. Then she saw him. Outside the convent, the Mother Superior stood wearing only a nightgown.

Facing her was Father Eustakio, but dressed in ordinary clothes, no cassock. The scene was already strange, but what she heard next made her heart race. “I called you because she’s very aggressive. I couldn’t control her on my own,” Ursula said, her voice thick with tension. “I think you’re wasting your time with her. You should just let her die there,” Eustakio replied coldly. Gabriela, hidden in the shadow of a column, opened her eyes wide.

She couldn’t understand who they were talking about and how a priest could say something so cruel. The Mother Superior retorted, “Are you crazy? She’s my sister. I may not be the best person, but I would never do something like that to my sister.” Gabriela felt a chill run down her spine. Sister. What do you mean, sister? The Mother Superior has a sister, she thought, stunned. The two started walking, and the young nun, driven by pure instinct, decided to follow them. Her steps were light, calculated, so as not to attract attention.

She stayed close enough to overhear any conversation, but far enough away not to be seen. They arrived at the chapel. The door creaked slightly as Ursula and Eustakio entered. Gabriela quickened her pace, and as she crossed the threshold, she noticed something unsettling. The room was completely empty. “Um, where did they go?” she whispered to herself. Cautiously, she began to observe every detail. Everything seemed in order, but then her eyes fell on something behind the altar. One of the wooden floorboards was slightly out of place.

“But what is this?” she murmured, knelt down, and with effort lifted the wooden plank. The surprise was immediate. There was an opening in the floor, a secret passage. The nun’s heart raced. They could only have gone there. But what is happening, my God? For a few seconds she hesitated. Entering that place meant taking too much of a risk, but curiosity and a strange feeling that she needed to see it with her own eyes propelled her forward. She took a deep breath and descended. She found herself in a narrow tunnel with damp walls.

The air there was heavier, and a faint scent of moo mingled with something indefinable. In the distance, a dim light illuminated the end of the corridor. To the right, there appeared to be a room. Gabriela walked slowly, careful not to stumble. As she approached, the sight that greeted her nearly made her fall backward. Inside the room were Eustace and the Mother Superior, or at least who she believed to be the Mother Superior. But there was someone else, another woman, also wearing a habit, though wrinkled and dirty, with a tired and dejected expression.

The most shocking thing was that she was identical to Ursula. Exactly the same. The woman was tied to a chair. Her voice was weak, but filled with desperation. “For God’s sake, Luciana, get me out of here. I can’t stand being in this place anymore.” The supposed mother, now called Luciana by the prisoner, replied coldly. “Ursula, my dear sister, I’m so sorry, but I can’t let you go. Unfortunately, I’m the new mother now. You’ll have to stay here.” The real mother, weeping, pleaded. “No, you can’t leave me locked up in this place, Luciana.”

Let me go, please. Let me go. I’ll help you escape. I won’t tell anyone, just let me go. Eustio intervened, his voice thick with contempt. You should be grateful your sister still has a soft heart. As far as I’m concerned, I’d finish you off with a bullet. It was in that instant that everything made sense to Gabriela. The woman who had been running the convent these last few days wasn’t Ursula, it was Luciana, her sister. And Eustace probably wasn’t a priest at all. Frightened, she took a step back. A sharp creak echoed through the tunnel.

Gabriela looked at the floor. She had stepped on a piece of plastic that now betrayed her presence. Luciana frowned. “Is anyone else here?” “The noise came from the tunnel,” Eustaquio stated, already turning around. The real Mother Superior seized the moment to shout, “Help! Help me! I am the real Mother Superior! Please, help me!” Gabriela froze for a second, her heart pounding, until Luciana came out of the room and saw her. “Ah, it’s you. But how nosy you turned out to be, Gabriela.”

Eustace appeared right behind her with a grim smile. “Ah, little nun, now you’re going straight to the coffin. Who told you to be so nosy?” Desperate, Gabriela heard the anguished voice of the real Ursula again. “Run, Gabriela, run. Lock the exit, run. When you get out, get help. Run, for God’s sake.” Gabriela hesitated. Part of her wanted to help immediately, but when she saw Eustace reach for his waistband, probably to pull out a weapon, her survival instinct spoke louder.

She turned and ran. The tunnel echoed with the sound of her hurried footsteps. Behind her, Luciana and Eustaquio’s shouts and threats followed. Reaching the exit, Gabriela hurried and locked the entrance from the outside with trembling hands. From below, Luciana yelled, “Open it! Open it now!” Eusti roared immediately. “We’re going to catch you, you won’t escape!” Gabriela shoved a heavy piece of furniture across the secret exit, blocking access. The crash echoed in the small, silent chapel of the convent, and she ran out, her heart racing and her legs shaking.

Upon reaching her own room, she slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside. She leaned against the wood, panting, feeling cold sweat trickle down the back of her neck. “What do I do, my God? What do I do?” she murmured to herself, her breathing ragged. She considered waking the other nuns, but she knew explaining everything would take time. Time she didn’t have. The man she had believed until a few hours before was a priest had a gun, and the Mother Superior wasn’t the Mother Superior.

The real one was tied up, a prisoner. What could she do against two armed imposters? And who would believe such a story? She paced the room, feeling her anxiety growing. Her mother, her real mother, I can’t leave her like this. I have to do something. But how? It was then, looking at the table in front of her, that something caught her eye. There was her small laptop, the one she used for studying. Next to it, a USB drive plugged in. Nearby was a black ink pen, a gift she had received years before from her father, and some sleeping pills she kept for sleepless nights.

An absurd idea began to take shape in her mind—crazy, but possibly effective. Without wasting a moment, Gabriela grabbed the pen and ran to the next room where Sister Susana was sleeping. She knocked loudly. “Susana, open the door, it’s urgent. Open up, please.” On the other side, the sister jumped up. “My God, Gabriela, what’s going on?” Gabriela didn’t answer immediately. She turned her back to Susana and handed her the pen. “I… I can’t explain it right now.”

I just need you to do something for me, sister. And please, believe me. Then she asked her to write on her back: Don’t do an autopsy, please, wait two hours. Susana looked confused. Gabriela, can you explain what’s going on? But Gabriela shook her head. I can’t say anything or I’ll put you at risk. What I can say is that you can’t trust Father Eustaquio or the Mother Superior in any way. You can’t trust them.

“You can’t.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “You’re going to do the following. You’re going to go to the telephone room and call the police. Make an anonymous call saying that a crime has occurred here in the convent. Then, you’re going to hide, Sister Susana. Don’t let anyone see you. For God’s sake.” Susana tried to argue. “Gabriela, I’m not understanding. I just need you to do what I asked, Susana. For God’s sake, there’s something very serious going on in this convent, but I can only tell you the truth if everything goes well.”

Whatever happens, keep quiet. And if I don’t return, you should know that you can never trust the Mother. At the first opportunity, flee this place, the young nun said firmly. She paused briefly, looking around nervously. Now I have to go back to my room. They’re coming, and I don’t have much time. Susana, though not understanding, obeyed. She hurried to the telephone room, her heart racing. She picked up the phone and made the call, speaking rapidly about a crime at the convent.

Meanwhile, she heard heavy footsteps echoing down the hall. In her room, Gabriela, her hands trembling, put on her habit, took a deep breath, and opened the bottle of sleeping pills. “I… I hope this works. This is the only way to get out of here and expose these imposters.” She sat down in front of her laptop, plugged in the USB drive, and started recording. Her voice came out firm. “Don’t trust the Mother Superior.” Before she could say more, she heard loud banging on the door.

She quickly shut down the computer, removed the USB drive, and tied it to her habit pocket with a string. From outside, Luciana was shouting, “Open this door now, Gabriela! Open it or it’ll be worse!” Eustio intervened, his voice heavy with menace. She wasn’t going to open it, but she wasn’t going to escape either. Gabriela heard the metallic sound of something being manipulated in the lock. Eustakio had found an old paperclip and was trying to force the bolt. “She won’t be able to escape, she won’t,” he said resolutely.

The lock clicked open with a sharp sound. The door opened. What they saw stunned them. Lying on the floor, pills scattered around her, was Gabriela, motionless. Her face was pale and her eyes were closed. Luciana brought her hand to her mouth. Had she taken those pills? Eustio knelt beside her, placing two fingers on her neck to check for a pulse. After a few seconds, he looked up and shook his head.

She’s dead. He immediately let out a low, cruel laugh. It was better this way. Luciana, however, seemed uneasy. I don’t know. This could go wrong if she told someone. Eustio remained calm. That nun didn’t tell anyone. Of course not. She ran off in fear. She locked us in the back and, terrified, took the pills. That’s it. One less to worry about. Luciana stared at Gabriela’s motionless body for a few seconds, her gaze heavy with distrust, but said nothing more.

Eustakio, still crouched beside the body, let out a dry, contemptuous laugh. “These women here have no family, nothing. We just have to get rid of the body. No one will suspect a thing.” But just then, an unexpected sound echoed through the convent. Loud knocks on the main gate. Luciana jumped up, quickly pulled on her habit, and ran to the entrance. When she opened it, she found several police officers. The one who seemed to be in charge of the operation, a stern-faced officer, spoke bluntly.

We learned there was a crime at this convent. We received a report. We’ll have to go in and investigate. The fake nun’s face paled. Her heart raced, but she thought quickly. If she’s dead, I have to use her. They have to find Gabriela’s body immediately before they discover what’s really going on here. Without hesitation, she began to weep dramatically, covering her face with her hands. Our Gabriela, our beloved Gabriela. I found her dead just a moment ago. No, I don’t know, I don’t know what happened, officer.

I think, I think she took too many pills. Through fake tears, she led the police to the room where the body lay. Eustace, sensing the danger, had already moved away, hiding in another part of the convent. It was then that the delegate noticed something Luciana hadn’t seen: a piece of paper lying on the floor near the bed. The message, written in firm handwriting, read, “An autopsy must be performed to find out what happened to me.” The delegate shuddered, frowning.

Luciana also read it, and her expression betrayed immediate unease. She tried to intervene, but he was emphatic. “I don’t want anyone else in this room, Mother. We need to know what really happened, and even if she is a nun, we will have to take Sister Gabriela’s body for analysis.” With no alternative, the fake mother simply nodded, biting her lip hard. Gabriela’s body was carefully removed from the room and placed in the officers’ custody. Luciana then encountered Eustaquio, who had been waiting for her in hiding, anxious.

As soon as she saw her, she ran toward her. “What’s going on? Why are the police here?” Luciana answered in a low but angry voice. “Someone reported Gabriela dead. I don’t know if she reported it herself before she died, but there’s something strange about this story. Do you want to do an autopsy?” Before they could continue the conversation, Susana came running up, her eyes filled with tears. “Mother, Father Eustakio. I’m so glad I found you. Gabriela. Her.” Luciana interrupted, feigning sobs.

Susana is gone, she’s dead. But Susana, in her innocence, ended up saying more than she should have. She knew this was going to happen. I don’t know how, but she knew. Luciana raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Susana, you have something to do with this. What did Gabriela tell you?” “I only did what she asked,” Susana replied nervously. “She said not to trust you, but I don’t know why.” And so Susana, firmly believing in the false mother, told everything.

Luciana, for her part, narrowed her eyes, but quickly changed her tone. She forced a smile and placed her hands on the nun’s shoulders. “I understand, my child. Thank you for trusting me, but please don’t tell anyone about this. I need to understand what’s happening before I spread anything.” Susana nodded, unaware of the danger she was putting herself in. As soon as she stepped away, Luciana turned to Eustio, her mask of sweetness vanishing. “It smells very bad in here.”

We need to go to the morgue now, immediately. Shortly after, already at the morgue, Luciana entered the freezing room accompanied by Eustaquio. The two forensic doctors, Fonseca and Camilo, were still there, stunned by everything that was happening. Seeing the empty space, Luciana let out a hateful word. Fonseca, nervously, took a few steps forward. Still believing he was facing the real mother, he said, “Mother, you shouldn’t be here. Honestly, I already told you that you couldn’t enter without authorization.”

“I need you to leave immediately.” Luciana turned sharply. She pulled a gun from her habit. Her gentle expression was gone. “I’ll only leave when I know where that nun is. Where is Gabriela?” The two doctors’ eyes widened. Camilo tried to take a step back, raising his hands. “Calm down, calm down, there’s no need for this.” At that moment, Eustakio appeared behind them, also armed. “Didn’t you hear? Where is Sister Gabriela? She’s alive, isn’t she?”

Fonseca stammered, terrified. “What’s going on here? We… we don’t understand anything.” Luciana pointed the gun at him, her voice firm and cold. “You don’t need to understand. I just want Sister Gabriela, whether it’s her body or her. Where did you hide her?” Eustakio moved even closer, gun in hand, his gaze fixed. The silence in the room was unbearable. Then, a voice echoed down the hall. “I’m here.” Everyone turned. There stood Gabriela, resolute, her eyes fixed on the imposters.

You want me. Just let them both go. They have nothing to do with this. I’m the one you’re after. The forensic doctors stared at each other, unable to believe what they were seeing. Luciana and Eustaquio, meanwhile, tensed up, slowly advancing toward Gabriela. Luciana shouted, “Consumed by rage.” “Damn it! You ruined everything, but now, now you’re going to pay.” She raised her gun, but before she could fire, voices echoed behind Gabriela. “Lower your weapons immediately.”

“Both of you are under arrest,” the delegate bellowed, appearing with several armed police officers. Luciana and Eustaquio turned around in shock. Behind them, more police officers emerged, completely surrounding them. The cordon was in place. With no way out, they dropped their weapons and surrendered. “No, not again!” the fake mother shouted. As they were being handcuffed, a figure entered the room. It was the real mother, Úrsula. She walked slowly toward Luciana, her twin sister, a criminal, and simply shook her head silently, disappointed. Then she opened her arms and hugged Gabriela tightly.

Camilo and Fonseca approached, still confused. Fonseca asked hesitantly, “Can we know what happened?” The truth finally came to light. The Mother Superior had a twin sister, Luciana. While Ursula dedicated her life to God, Luciana followed the path of crime. She spent years in prison, involved in criminal activity and in a long-term relationship with Eusta, who was never a priest, only a criminal accomplice. When he got out of prison, he helped Luciana escape as well.

Together they decided to assume new identities. And that’s when Luciana devised the most audacious plan: to usurp her own sister’s place, disguising herself as the Mother Superior of the convent, and thus escape prison bars forever. However, Luciana and Eustaquio’s plan didn’t go as they imagined, as Gabriela ended up discovering the whole truth. Fonseca, still shocked, asked, “But how did you end up on an autopsy table?” Gabriela explained calmly. “I always liked studying medicine, even autopsies. I knew that if they brought me in as if I were dead, they would examine my body.”

I needed proof against the mother. I also took the pills, aware of the risk, but confident that I would appear dead for a few hours and then wake up. That’s why I asked Sister Susana to write the message on my back. I had to leave the convent pretending to be dead to stay alive. While all this was happening at the convent, Luciana and Eustaquio didn’t notice that they had left the secret entrance to the chapel open. It was there that Susana, while going to pray, found the real Mother Ursula.

Upon learning what had happened to Gabriela, the mother summoned the police and they went to the morgue, arriving just as Gabriela awoke on the stretcher, still drowsy. This exposed the false mother and the false priest. Luciana and Eustaquio were arrested. Gabriela, the real mother, and Susana returned to the convent, resuming their lives of prayer and faith. Ursula still tried to visit her sister in prison, attempting to persuade her to change her ways, but she soon realized that Luciana would never abandon her path of perdition.

Camilo and Fonseca, for their part, continued working in the morgue, but they knew with absolute certainty that they would never again witness something so strange and absurd in their entire career.