Chapter 3 - The Silver Spoon
Freed from the guard's crushing grip, Ellie sprinted forward and immediately dropped to her knees right in front of the terrifying mafia boss.
She didn't attempt CPR. She didn't scream for an ambulance. Her realistic facial micro-expressions shifted into a state of fierce, clinical calculation. She reached out and snatched a heavy silver spoon off the pristine white tablecloth.
Damien stared at her in complete shock. "What are you doing?! They can't breathe!"
"Hold them upright," Ellie commanded, her voice incredibly calm and steady amidst the hysteria. She gently placed her hands over Damien's heavily tattooed forearms, forcing him to adjust his grip on the seizing babies. "Let them feel you breathing. Deep, slow breaths, Mr. Moretti. Right now."
Damien swallowed his terror and instantly obeyed, taking deep, exaggerated breaths so his massive chest rose and fell rhythmically against his sons.
Ellie raised the silver spoon. She began tapping it steadily against the rim of a crystal water glass. Tink... tink... tink...
She moved her fingers with absolute, rhythmic precision. It wasn't a frantic noise. It was a highly calculated, metronomic beat designed to hijack an overloading nervous system.
May you like
"Their brains are misfiring, locking their diaphragms," Ellie explained softly, keeping her eyes entirely on the babies. "We have to reset their sensory input. Keep breathing, Damien."
👉 Ellie was using a bizarre psychological trick, but would the dying babies actually respond to the rhythm?
