«But—but what is that? Is that a tattoo? What is that on the body, Dr. Fonseca?» Camilo asked, hastily recoiling two steps as if he’d been shoved. His gaze was pinned to the motionless body on the metal gurney, his voice trembling with uncertainty.
On the other side of the cold storage unit, surrounded by white tile and surgical instruments, Dr. Fonseca turned around. The most experienced surgeon in the facility, he had just opened a cabinet in search of scalpels and knives; he was now frowning deeply.
«What do you mean, a tattoo? What did you see, Dr. Camilo?» he asked clearly, intrigued, as he slowly approached.
Lying on the stainless steel gurney was something one didn’t see every day in this morgue: the body of a nun. She was still dressed in her black habit, which draped elegantly over her young, fragile frame. Her pale, angelic face looked more like that of someone in a deep sleep than a corpse, yet she was dead, and there was no clear explanation for her passing.
Camilo, the younger of the two foremen, remained silent for several seconds. He waited for his companion to draw closer, searching for the right words to describe what he had just witnessed.
«Did you see a tattoo, Camilo? Is that it?» the chief doctor repeated, trying to grasp what was troubling his colleague so much.
«I was looking at her and noticed a gap in her habit. It looks like she has a tattoo on her back. I’m not sure,» he replied, visibly shaken.
With the stoicism of someone who had held his position for years, Fonseca crossed his arms and considered this. «Is it just an impression, or is it definitely a tattoo?» he asked, pausing briefly before concluding. «Not everyone follows the path of faith from a young age. Sometimes a person lives a full life in the secular world before dedicating themselves to the clergy. It could be a relic of her past. Nothing unusual.»
Camilo took a deep breath, looked at his colleague, and asked the question he had perhaps been harboring since the start of this assignment.
«In all your years here, have you ever performed an autopsy like this? Or worked in a morgue where things felt… off?»
Fonseca, who had worked in this morgue for over a decade, raised his eyebrows. «To be honest, I’ve dreamt of cases like this. I was surprised the delegate sent the body here at all. You know, autopsies are usually for suspected foul play, and murder is often an attempt to hide the truth. This seemed almost absurd to me.»
«No matter how surreal it feels,» Camilo said, his tone turning more serious, «we have a job to do. But I admit, I’m still haunted by that supposed tattoo.»
Fonseca nodded, appearing to understand his colleague’s apprehension. They began their preparations.
But before the first incision could be made, an icy wind suddenly gusted into the room, and the window slammed open with a loud bang. Papers scattered across the table rustled, and the instruments rattled. Camilo flinched, a sudden chill racing through his body. He turned instantly toward the body on the gurney and, with a lump in his throat, asked:
«Do you really think we should do this, Doctor? Touch a nun? A holy woman?»
Fonseca didn’t answer immediately; he only took a deep breath. His eyes were fixed on the nun’s body, and he, too, felt the same chill. Something in the atmosphere had shifted. Nevertheless, he spoke firmly. «This is our job, Camilo. Regardless of who she was, we need answers. We need to find the cause of death.»
He paused, then added: «Sometimes life presents us with things that feel wrong, but are actually necessary.»
The young doctor, still hesitating, nodded. Both took a deep breath. Then the veteran took the lead. «Let’s talk. Where exactly did you think you saw something?»
«On her back,» Camilo replied. «Through an opening in the habit. There’s something there. It looks intentional.»
Fonseca stepped toward the gurney and examined it closely. «Let me see.» Leaning over the body, he noted a small tear in the black fabric of the habit. Through it, a patch of skin was visible, marked by something strange. A dark spot—small, but unmistakable.
The forensic experts exchanged a brief, confirming look. That was enough.
«Help me turn her over,» Fonseca requested.
Carefully and respectfully, the two doctors rolled the nun onto her stomach. Before beginning, Fonseca closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and whispered a prayer. He asked for God’s forgiveness because, although it was his duty, touching something sacred caused a tightness in his chest.
«Hand me the scissors,» he said.
Camilo passed the tool, and Fonseca began to carefully cut away the back of the habit. After only a few inches, his eyes widened. What he saw wasn’t just a tattoo; it was an inscription.
«Can this be real?» Fonseca muttered, caught between shock and curiosity.
«Is there something there? Is something written?» Camilo exclaimed, leaning in closer.
Driven by a desperate need to understand, Fonseca quickened his movements, fully exposing the nun’s back. And then, as if time had stopped, the two doctors froze. Their eyes were wide, their faces went pale, and they were rendered speechless. Neither dared to blink. Silence fell over the room, as if the morgue itself were suffocating them.
«Am I reading that right, Doctor? Is that real?» Camilo asked, his voice trembling with fear.
Fonseca, still holding the scissors in shaking hands, replied without looking away from the text. «If you see it, then I see it too. I had to touch it just to be sure my eyes weren’t failing me.»
The experienced Dr. Fonseca reached out a trembling hand and cautiously ran his finger over the text. His lips moved slowly as he silently read the words etched into the young woman’s back:
«Please, do not perform an autopsy on my body. Wait two hours. What I need is in the pocket of my habit.»
The silence that followed was almost as disturbing as the message itself. Fonseca leaned over the body, remaining motionless for several seconds as he tried to process the impossible. It was absurd, inexplicable, unheard of.
Camilo, overcome by a sudden, frantic calm, didn’t wait for further instructions. He stepped forward and leaned over the habit. He quickly searched the sides of the black fabric and noticed two discrete pockets sewn into the material.
The first pocket was empty, but when he reached into the second, his fingers brushed against something. His eyes widened.
«Dr. Fonseca, there’s something here. It’s small, it feels like…»
He slowly pulled the object out and finished his sentence, his voice thick with amazement. Time seemed to stand still. Camilo held a small USB drive in his hand as Fonseca slowly approached. The older man took the object and turned it over between his fingers. It was made of ordinary black plastic—seemingly harmless—but the sensation it provoked was anything but settling.
«What could be on here?» Camilo asked, his voice a bit firmer now, though his anxiety was still palpable.
Fonseca stared at the device for a few seconds, then looked up at his colleague.
«If this message is true—if she left it herself—then this drive might contain some kind of proof, an answer to what happened to this nun.»
Fonseca paused briefly before continuing. «It’s strange the police didn’t find it. Perhaps they didn’t search thoroughly enough. But now that it’s in our hands, let’s find out the truth together.»
Flash drive in hand, Fonseca hurried into the next room. Camilo followed immediately, his heart hammering harder with every step. He sat at the computer, powered it on, and waited in silence for the operating system to load.
The tension in the air was nearly unbearable. A thick silence hung between them, broken only by the hum of the computer fan and the nervous tapping of Camilo’s fingers on the desk. When the system finally booted, Fonseca inserted the USB drive and waited. The screen flickered. After a few seconds, a single folder appeared.
Camilo pointed at the monitor. «It’s a video. There’s a video file.»
Fonseca gave a slight nod, his gaze pinned to the screen. «Are you ready?»
«Yes, open it,» Camilo replied, his voice breathless.
The veteran doctor clicked the file. The image loaded, and what they saw next filled them with a sense of dread. The same woman appeared on the video. Her head was bowed and she looked pale, her eyes wide with fear. She was sitting on the edge of a bed in a simple room with a cross on the wall and a window in the background.
It was night. The light was dim, but sufficient to capture the look of anguish on her face.
«If you are watching this video, it means my body is in the morgue, ready for an autopsy. Or perhaps an even worse fate has befallen me,» she said, breathing heavily. «I… I have so little time.»
Then, as if fate itself wanted to confirm her fear, there was a loud bang on her door. The nun looked toward it, desperate.
«I do not trust Mother Ursula. She is not who she claims to be. For the love of God, do not trust her—» Before she could say another word, the video cut off abruptly. Camilo grabbed his head. His eyes went wide as he stammered, «It was her mother. Her own mother did this to her.»
Fonseca swallowed hard, visibly shaken. «I don’t know, but the police need to deal with this immediately. It’s clear the Mother Superior is involved somehow.»
They both rewatched the video, searching for details or additional clues. They realized it had been recorded on a laptop webcam. The poor lighting made it difficult to analyze the surroundings, but there was no doubt: this was the same woman now lying on the cold gurney in the next room.
Back at the convent, Lucia tried to interfere, but the authorities were adamant.
«Mother, I don’t want anyone else in this room,» an officer told her. «We need to find out what actually happened. Even if she was a nun, we have to take Sister Gabriela’s body for a forensic exam.»
Left with no choice, the «Mother Superior»—Lucia—simply nodded, biting her lip hard. Gabriela’s body was carefully removed from the room and transported. Meanwhile, Lucia met Eustace, who had been waiting for her, lurking in the shadows and visibly anxious.
«What’s going on? Why are the police here?» Lucia hissed.
«Someone reported Gabriela’s death. I don’t know if she spoke to someone before she died, but there’s something strange about this story. They wanted an autopsy.»
Before they could continue, Susana came running in, tears streaming down her face. «Mother! Father Eustacio! I’m so glad I found you. Gabriela… she…»
«She’s dead, Susana. She’s gone,» Lucia interrupted, faking a sob.
But Susana, in her hypocrisy, said more than she should have. She knew it was coming. Lucia raised a suspicious eyebrow. «Susana, you’re involved in this. What did Gabriela tell you?»
«I just did what she asked,» Susana replied nervously. «She said she didn’t trust you, but I don’t know why.»
Believing in the false Mother, Susana revealed everything. Lucia narrowed her eyes but quickly masked her anger. She forced a smile and placed her hands on the nun’s shoulders. «I understand, my daughter. Thank you for trusting me. But please, don’t say a word to anyone else. I need to understand what’s happening before we share this.»
Susana nodded, unaware of the danger she was in. As soon as she left, Lucia turned to Eustacio, her mask of kindness vanishing. «Something stinks here. We need to get to the morgue immediately.»
Shortly after, at the morgue, Lucia burst in, accompanied by Eustacio. The two medical examiners, Fonseca and Camilo, were still there, reeling from what they had discovered.
Seeing the empty gurney where the body should have been, Lucia spat out a curse. Fonseca, pretending to be confused, stepped forward. Still under the impression he was speaking to a legitimate holy woman, he said, «Mother, you shouldn’t be here. I told you, you can’t enter without authorization. You need to leave immediately.»
Lucia turned sharply and pulled a pistol from beneath her habit. Her sweet expression was gone. «I’m only leaving when I find that girl. Where is Gabriela?»
The doctors’ eyes went wide. Camilo stepped back, hands raised. «Take it easy, please! This isn’t necessary!»
At that moment, Eustacio appeared behind them, also armed. «Didn’t you hear her? Where is Sister Gabriela? She’s alive, isn’t she?»
Fonseca stammered in terror. «What is happening? We don’t understand!»
Lucia leveled her gun at him, her voice cold and hard. «I don’t need you to understand. I just need Sister Gabriela, whether it’s her body or her soul. Where are you hiding her?»
Eustacio moved closer, weapon ready. An unbearable silence filled the room. Then, a voice rang out from the hallway.
«I am here.»
Everyone turned. There stood Gabriela, standing tall, her gaze fixed on the imposters. «You want me. Let them both go. They have nothing to do with this.»
The medical examiners stared, unable to believe their eyes. Lucia, consumed by rage, screamed, «Damn you! You ruined everything! Now, you’re going to pay!»
She raised her weapon, but before she could pull the trigger, a thunderous voice boomed from the doorway: «Drop your weapons! Now!»
«You’re both under arrest!» the Lead Delegate roared, flanked by several armed officers. Lucia and Eustacio spun around, stunned. A police cordon quickly surrounded them.
«No! Not again!» the false Mother screamed as they were forced into handcuffs.
As the dust settled, another figure entered the room: the real Mother Ursula. She walked slowly toward Lucia—her twin sister and a lifelong criminal—and shook her head in silent disappointment. Then, she opened her arms and pulled Gabriela into a tight embrace.
Camilo and Fonseca approached, utterly bewildered. «Can we finally know what happened?» Fonseca asked.
The truth finally came to light. Mother Ursula had a twin sister named Lucia. While Ursula had dedicated her life to God, Lucia had chosen a life of crime. After years in prison, she had conspired with Eustacio, a defrocked priest and her longtime accomplice, to escape and steal her sister’s identity. Lucia’s plan was to take over the convent, masquerading as the Mother Superior to hide from the law forever.
However, Gabriela had discovered their secret.
«But how did you end up on the autopsy table?» Fonseca asked, still impressed.
«I’ve always had an interest in medicine,» Gabriela explained calmly. «I knew that if they thought I was dead, they would send my body for an exam. I needed proof against her. I took a high-risk sedative to slow my vitals so I would appear dead for a few hours. I asked Sister Susana to write the message on my back. I had to leave the convent as a corpse just to stay alive.»
While the police were being called, Susana had encountered the real Mother Ursula, who had been held captive. Together, they coordinated with the authorities to catch the imposters at the morgue.
In the end, Lucia and Eustacio were hauled away to prison. Gabriela, the real Mother Ursula, and Susana returned to the convent to resume their lives of faith. Ursula continued to visit her twin sister in prison, hoping to lead her to redemption, but she soon realized that Lucia would never truly abandon her path.
As for Camilo and Fonseca, they continued their work at the morgue, but they remained certain of one thing: in all their years to come, they would never witness anything quite as absurd as the nun who came back from the dead.
