I noticed strange bluish marks on my father-in-law’s back, but he just brushed it off, insisting he had simply fallen by accident; yet soon I discovered the truth, which turned out to be far more terrifying 

One morning, my five-year-old son ran up to me, pale, his eyes wide with fear.

— Mom… what’s that on Grandpa’s back?

— What do you mean?

— I saw… his back is blue. No, even black… Is he sick? Why does it look like that?

I tried to calm him — children often exaggerate. But the anxiety stayed inside me. After all, a child wouldn’t make up something like that for no reason.

After lunch I decided to check. I knocked on my father-in-law’s door and gently opened it. He was standing in front of the mirror, shirtless, hunched over, examining his back.

When I came closer, real fear washed over me. His back was covered in bluish-purple marks — different sizes, in various places along his spine, on his shoulder blades, even lower. There weren’t one or two — but more than a dozen. And they looked fresh.

— Oh my God… what happened to you? — I blurted out.

He quickly turned away and waved me off:

— I fell… You know how it is at my age. My legs give out.

But his voice was tense. He was clearly nervous. His hands were trembling. When I offered to take him to a doctor, he snapped:

— It’ll go away on its own. We don’t need anyone. Don’t worry about it.

But I couldn’t forget it. And just a few days later the truth revealed itself — far stranger than I expected.

That night I went to the kitchen to get some water. As I passed their bedroom, I heard voices.

— Please… it hurts… stop, leave me… — my father-in-law said almost pleadingly.

Then I heard my mother-in-law’s voice, angry and irritated:

— It’s your own fault. You deserve it!

Then came a faint moan, so painful that it made my breath catch. I couldn’t take it anymore and flung the bedroom door open.

What I saw inside made my blood run cold 
Continuation in the first comment 

The man was lying on his stomach, his face buried in his hands. And my mother-in-law was sitting next to him on the bed, doing something to his back. Only when I stepped closer did I understand — she was inserting needles into him.

Real, thin, metal needles.

— What are you doing?! — I shouted.

My mother-in-law lifted her head, completely unfazed:

— What do you think… I’m treating him. His back hurts, you know that. A friend told me acupuncture helps. So we’re trying it. It worked for her!

I stared at her in disbelief.

— But you’re not a doctor! You can’t do that with ordinary pharmacy needles! This requires sterility, knowledge… You could seriously harm him! That’s why he has all those bruises!

That was the truth behind the mysterious marks: no illness, no fall… just dangerous, unskilled self-treatment the two of them resorted to without understanding the consequences.

I carefully removed the last needle and said firmly:

— Tomorrow we’re going to a real doctor. No more experiments.