The mark in the air pulsed once more before fading into the mist. Vivian felt the breath leave her lungs as silence settled over them like a heavy shroud.
"There were five of us."
Elara's words hung in the air like a forgotten truth, something buried beneath time itself.
Vivian's brows furrowed. "Five?"
Sebastian turned to Elara, his voice edged with confusion. "Who are you talking about? I thought it was just us."
Elara exhaled slowly, her gaze fixed beyond them, past the dim corridors of the mansion, as if she could already see something neither of them could. "They were here," she said softly. "But I thought they were gone."
A cold prickle crept up Vivian's spine.
Then, as if in answer, a sound—deep, slow, deliberate—echoed through the house. A creak, followed by the whisper of shifting weight. It came from above, from the second floor.
Vivian's heart clenched.
Sebastian's hand instinctively went to the knife at his belt. "We're not alone."
Vivian didn't waste time waiting for answers. She moved toward the staircase, her pulse pounding against her ribs as she ascended, the wooden steps groaning beneath her weight.
The corridor stretched ahead, shrouded in the eerie dimness of flickering candlelight. The house smelled of dust and age, of secrets left to rot in the silence. Every door lining the hall was shut—except one.
It stood slightly ajar at the very end, the darkness inside yawning like an open mouth.
Vivian hesitated. Something inside told her that stepping through that door would change everything.
Sebastian reached it first, his fingers grazing the old wood as he nudged it open. The hinges wailed in protest.
The room beyond was cloaked in shadow, dust swirling in the air as if it had been disturbed only moments ago. The fireplace at the far end had long since burned out, its embers cold.
But they were not alone.
Two figures stood in the center of the room.
A man and a woman.
Their backs were turned, their bodies unnaturally still. Their clothes were tattered, dirt clinging to the fabric like they had been lost for years. The woman's long, dark hair fell over her shoulders in tangled waves, while the man stood rigid, his hands limp at his sides.
Vivian's breath caught.
They looked… wrong. Not just forgotten but misplaced, as if time had left them behind.
Elara stepped forward, her voice almost trembling. "No…"
The woman stirred at the sound, her head tilting slightly as if recognizing the voice.
Then, slowly, she turned.
Her eyes—sunken and hollow—locked onto Vivian's, and a chill swept through her entire body.
The woman's lips parted, voice cracking with disuse. "You came back."
The words sent a ripple through the air, thick with something unseen, something Vivian couldn't name.
The man beside her turned as well. His face was gaunt, eyes shadowed with something Vivian couldn't place—recognition? Fear? Something deeper, something older.
"Do you remember us?" His voice was rough, as though it had not been used in years.
Vivian's breath hitched. Because something inside her did remember.
A flash—too quick to catch—of laughter in a forgotten hall, of whispered secrets exchanged in candlelight. Of hands reaching, pulling, grasping… before slipping away.
She stumbled back. "That's not possible."
The woman—no, the stranger—stepped forward, her voice quieter now, softer. "But it is."
Sebastian's grip on his knife tightened. "Who are you?"
The woman's gaze flickered to him, but it was Vivian she watched the longest. "We were here before," she murmured. "With you."
Vivian shook her head. "No. I—I don't know you."
The woman only smiled, but it wasn't a happy thing. It was knowing, like someone waiting for a secret to be remembered.
"You will."
Vivian's pulse thundered in her ears.
Something was wrong.
Something had always been wrong.
And now, she wasn't sure she wanted to remember at all.
To be continued...