A silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating, like the walls of the mansion itself were waiting, listening. The woman and man stood before Vivian, their presence unnatural, as though time had failed to move for them.
"You will."
The woman's voice lingered in Vivian's mind, stirring something buried deep within her—something she wasn't sure she wanted to unearth.
Sebastian shifted beside her, his grip tightening around his knife. "We need answers," he said, his voice a low command. "Now."
The man's gaze flickered to him, as if just now acknowledging his presence. His lips curled slightly, though there was no humor in the expression. "Still as guarded as ever."
Sebastian stiffened. "What?"
The woman took a step forward, her eyes never leaving Vivian. "You don't remember us yet," she said softly, "but we remember you."
Vivian's throat felt dry.
Elara, who had been standing frozen behind them, finally spoke. "This isn't possible," she whispered. "You were gone. You should be gone."
The woman turned toward her now, something unreadable flickering across her face. "And yet, here we are."
Vivian swallowed hard. "Who are you?"
The woman's lips parted slightly, as if she were about to answer, but then—
A gust of air swept through the room, rattling the furniture, snuffing out what little candlelight remained. The temperature dropped, a cold so sharp it felt like needles against Vivian's skin.
Then—a whisper.
Not from the woman. Not from the man.
From everywhere.
A voice without a body, curling through the air like smoke.
"Not yet."
And then, everything shifted.
The room tilted—or at least, it felt like it did. The walls stretched, the shadows moved like living things. Vivian stumbled back, her breath caught in her throat as a sudden weight pressed against her chest.
Something was wrong.
Something was changing.
The woman and man remained still, their faces calm, but their eyes—their eyes—were wide with something almost like acceptance.
Elara gasped. "No—get out!"
But it was too late.
The floor beneath them vanished.
Or perhaps, they did.
—⟡—
Darkness swallowed them whole.
For a moment, there was nothing. No sound, no air, no sensation. Just emptiness.
Then—Vivian fell.
Not onto wood. Not onto stone.
But into memory.
She hit the ground with a sharp gasp, the air rushing back into her lungs. But it wasn't the floor of the mansion beneath her hands.
It was grass.
Cold, wet grass beneath her fingers. The scent of damp earth and rain filled her nostrils. She blinked rapidly, her vision spinning, her mind struggling to grasp where she was.
A forest.
Not the cursed one that surrounded the manor.
This was different. Familiar.
She pushed herself up, her heart hammering as her surroundings came into focus. A clearing. A night sky stretched above, the moon hanging low, casting pale light across the earth.
And standing before her—
The woman and the man.
But they were different now. Younger. Alive in a way they hadn't been in the mansion.
And Vivian knew them.
Not as strangers.
But as something else.
Something she had forgotten.
The woman stepped forward, and this time, there was no eerie pause, no unnatural stiffness. Only a soft, broken whisper.
"Vivian... you promised you'd remember."
A chill crawled up her spine.
Because in that moment, she did.
But she wished she hadn't.
To be continued...