Chapter 2: Hidden Curse
1332 Words
The nightmare always came before the morning light.
It never changed its shape.
Only its weight.
Blood soaking into snow. A sky burning without sound. And voices so many voices calling out for something that was already gone.
Irene’s eyes shot open.
Her breath came out sharp, uneven, like she had been drowning in sleep and only just broke the surface.
Her fingers were already gripping the blanket.
Tight.
Too tight.
Her knuckles were pale.
For a moment, she didn’t move.
Because if she moved too quickly, the memory might follow her into the room again.
She sat up slowly.
The bed was cold.Of course it was. It always was.
The mansion outside her room was already awake.
Footsteps moved somewhere far away in the corridors.
But none of them ever came for her.
Not unless they needed something.
Or wanted something from her.
Or wanted to remind her she didn’t belong.
A knock.
Not soft.
Not polite.
Just… present.
Before Irene could answer, the door opened.
A maid stepped in.
Her face looked tired in a way that had nothing to do with work.
It was the kind of tired that came from deciding, every single day, that kindness was unnecessary.
She placed a tray on the table without looking at Irene properly.
The food inside it barely resembled food.
Cold porridge that had thickened too much. Bread that looked like it had been forgotten in the oven.
Something grey on the side that Irene had stopped asking about a long time ago.
It didn’t matter anymore.
Nothing in this house was meant to taste good.
It was only meant to fill space.
“Eat it.”
The maid’s voice cut through the room.
Flat.
Uninterested.
Irene stared at the tray for a moment.
Then nodded slightly.
“…Yes.”
Her voice came out softer than she intended.
She reached for the spoon.
Her fingers were steady.
Too steady for someone who had just woken from a nightmare.
But before the spoon could even touch the bowl—
The maid grabbed the tray.
And shoved it forward.
The food pressed against Irene’s lips.
Cold.
Sticky.
Humiliating.
“Don’t make me wait.”
Irene froze.
Her eyes lowered slightly.
Not in defiance.
Not in anger.
Just… habit.
A habit formed from years of learning that resistance always had a price.
Slowly, she opened her mouth.
The taste hit her immediately.
Bland. Bitter. Wrong.
It stuck to her tongue like punishment.
The maid watched her carefully.
Not because she cared.
But because she liked the silence Irene made when she swallowed.
“Good,” the maid said after a moment.
A small smile formed.
Just satisfied.
“At least you understand what you are.”
Irene didn’t respond.
Her throat tightened slightly as she swallowed another bite.
Her hands rested on her lap.
Controlled.
But inside..
Something small shifted.
Not enough to notice.
Not enough to matter.
Yet.
The maid glanced toward the door.
“You’re late.”
Irene blinked slightly.
“…Late?”
“Your lessons.”
The maid sighed like she was annoyed she even had to explain.
“The duchess arranged them. You don’t forget that, do you?”
At the mention of the duchess, Irene paused.
Just for a second.
Something in her chest tightened.
Not hatred.
Not fear.
Something more complicated.
Like remembering a word you were never supposed to understand.
Suddenly, the maid stepped forward.
Her hand shot out and grabbed Irene’s wrist.
Irene flinched instantly.
The reaction was automatic.
But she didn’t pull away.
She never did anymore.
“Stand up.”
The chair scraped loudly against the floor as Irene was pulled up.
Her balance wavered for a moment.
Then she steadied herself.
The maid didn’t let go immediately.
She looked at her like she was checking whether something was broken yet.
Then she released her.
A wooden stick appeared in her hand.
Irene noticed it too late.
It was already raised.
The first strike landed on her leg.
Pain exploded instantly.
Sharp.
Irene’s breath caught in her throat.
Her body shook slightly, but she forced herself not to fall.
Not to react.
Not to give her the satisfaction.
Another strike came.
Then another.
Each one hit in a different place, like the maid was experimenting with how much silence Irene could still hold.
The sound of wood against flesh echoed in the room.
Not loud.
But heavy.
Like something slowly cracking.
Irene bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.
Her eyes watered slightly.
But she didn’t let it fall.
“You really are stubborn,” the maid muttered.
She leaned closer.
“So tell me… why are you still here?”
Another strike.
“This house doesn’t want you.”
Another.
“You’re not even useful.”
Irene’s breathing started to shake.
Not loudly.
Just enough for her to notice.
Inside her chest, something began to press upward.
Hot.
Unfamiliar.
Wrong.
“Stop…please I'm wrong”
Her voice came out broken.
The maid laughed immediately.
“Stop?”
She tilted her head.
“You think you can tell me that?”
Another strike came down.
Harder this time.
Irene’s vision blurred for a second.
Not from pain alone.
From something else rising beneath it.
Something she didn’t understand.
Something that didn’t belong to the body she thought she had.
The maid stopped for a moment.
She studied Irene’s face.
“…You’re looking at me again.”
Her smile faded slightly.
“I don’t like that.”
She raised her hand.
“Maybe I should fix your eyes. Then you won’t forget your place.”
The hand came down.
But Irene moved.
Not fast like a trained fighter.
More like instinct.
Like something inside her had reacted before she even thought.
The strike missed.
The maid froze.
“…What?”
Silence.
For the first time, the room felt different.
Not just quiet.
Heavy.
Like the air itself had thickened.
Irene stood there, breathing unevenly.
Her hands trembled slightly at her sides.
“I didn’t…”
Her voice cracked.
“I didn’t mean to…”
But the maid wasn’t listening anymore.
Her eyes were fixed on something behind Irene.
Something that wasn’t visible.
“…What is that?”
The shadows in the room shifted.
Not dramatically.
Not like fire or lightning.
More like they were listening.
Like they had become aware.
The corners of the room darkened slowly.
Subtly.
Unnaturally.
Irene looked down at her hands. They were shaking.
“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…”
Her voice became smaller.
Like she was trying to convince herself.
But the air didn’t believe her.
And then—
The maid stopped moving completely.
Her expression went blank for a moment.
“…I can’t move.”
She tried to step back. But her body didn’t respond properly.
Panic flickered across her face.“What did you do to me?”
Irene’s lips parted slightly.
“I don’t know…”
Her voice was barely there now.
“I don’t know what’s happening…”
The shadows around the maid began to twist.
Not attacking.
Not exploding.
Just… enclosing.
Like something unseen was wrapping itself around her existence.
The maid’s breathing became faster.
“No—wait—”
Her voice cracked.
“I didn’t mean—”
And then she was gone.
Not destroyed.
Not burned.
Not killed in a visible way.
Just… erased.
Like she had never stood there at all.
Even the sound of her breathing disappeared with her.
Silence returned.
But it was not the same silence as before.
This one felt wrong.
Too complete.
Irene stood still.
Her body no longer shaking.
Because it had gone beyond fear.
Beyond pain.
“…I…”
Her voice broke.
“I killed someone…”
Her knees almost gave way.
But she stayed standing.
Because there was nothing to sit down for anymore.
The room looked the same.
But everything inside it had changed.
And somewhere deep inside Irene—
Something had opened its eyes for the first time.
- Writer
