The Wax Child (Voksbarnet)

She does not think about the king, nor does she think about tar; she does not think about her own tongue and its yearning for the scream. And Maren lifted Christenze’s hand, a thrill ran through her, and Maren took a needle and pricked Christenze’s finger and allowed some few drops of blood to drip into her wine, and then Maren raised her glass with a radiant smile, whereupon she drained it in a single swallow. But before they were able to complete the initiation, a banging was heard upon the windowpane and outside in the darkness a terrible face appeared. But this opening is only brief, before the horror becomes a tool in the hands of those who are able to wield it.