Chapter 5
801 Words
The Haunting Begins
The darkness in the room was absolute.
Liana’s breath hitched as the cold pressed in around her.
She couldn’t see Damian.
Couldn’t even hear him breathing.
But she felt something else.
A presence. Watching. Waiting.
Then—
A hand brushed her shoulder.
Liana whipped around, heart hammering.
"Damian?" she whispered.
No answer.
Then, out of the suffocating silence—
"You shouldn’t have come here."
The voice was a rasp. Ancient. Hollow.
Liana’s blood ran cold.
She staggered back, her hands fumbling against the desk.
And then—
The fire burst back to life, flooding the room with flickering gold.
Liana spun around.
Damian stood by the fireplace, his silver eyes glowing.
The shadows around him seemed to writhe, like they were alive.
"Damian," Liana whispered. "What was that?"
He exhaled slowly, his gaze dark.
"You saw it, didn’t you?"
Liana nodded, swallowing hard.
"What… what is it?"
Damian hesitated. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said—
"The curse."
---
The Curse of the Blackwoods
Damian turned to face her fully, his expression unreadable.
"This house is more than old walls and hidden rooms, Liana," he said. "It’s a prison."
Liana clenched her hands into fists.
"And I’m trapped in it now, too, aren’t I?"
Damian’s silence was answer enough.
Liana’s breath hitched.
She had known something was wrong from the beginning.
But she hadn’t realized how deep this went.
Or how much danger she was really in.
"You need to tell me everything," she said firmly. "No more secrets."
Damian studied her for a long moment.
Then he said—
"The first Blackwood made a deal with something dark. Something that doesn’t forgive."
Liana swallowed. "A deal for what?"
Damian’s jaw tensed. "Power. Immortality."
Liana’s stomach twisted.
"And what was the cost?"
Damian met her gaze.
His voice was quiet when he said—
"The lives of every woman who marries into this family."
A chill slithered down Liana’s spine.
That meant…
If she stayed, if she didn’t find a way out—
She was going to die.
---
A Voice from the Dead
A sharp knock on the door shattered the moment.
Damian stiffened.
Liana turned toward the sound, her pulse racing.
"Who—"
But when Damian opened the door, the hallway was empty.
Only a single letter lay on the floor.
Damian bent down, picked it up, and slowly unfolded the paper.
His face went pale.
Liana stepped closer, her heart hammering.
"What is it?" she asked.
Damian turned the letter toward her.
It was old, the ink smudged and faded.
But the message was clear:
"Run while you still can."
And at the bottom—
A name.
Eleanor Blackwood.
Liana’s blood turned to ice.
Damian’s first wife.
The woman who had been dead for over a century.
But if that was true…
Who had left the letter?
---
The Room That Shouldn’t Exist
Liana couldn’t sleep that night.
The letter wouldn’t leave her mind.
She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing.
Somewhere in the mansion, a clock chimed three times.
And then—
A whisper.
Right next to her ear.
"Liana."
She jerked upright, heart pounding.
The room was empty.
And yet…
She could still feel something watching her.
Slowly, she got out of bed.
The hallway outside was pitch black, but she didn’t stop.
Her instincts pulled her forward.
Step after step, deeper into the house.
And then she saw it—
A door that hadn’t been there before.
It was old, covered in deep scratches.
The handle was ice cold as she turned it.
The door creaked open.
And inside—
A room full of portraits.
Liana’s breath caught.
Each one was of a woman.
Some were young and beautiful.
Others looked hollow, terrified.
But they all had one thing in common—
Each portrait was marked with a red X.
Liana stepped closer, her fingers trembling.
And then—
She saw her own face.
Painted in perfect detail.
A red X slashed across it.
The room went cold.
And behind her—
The door slammed shut.
---
Trapped in the Dark
Liana spun around, her heart racing.
She grabbed the handle, twisting it hard.
The door wouldn’t budge.
Panic surged through her.
She was trapped.
Then—
A breath.
Right behind her.
She turned slowly.
A figure stood in the darkness.
A woman in a black wedding dress, her veil torn and stained.
Her face was pale, her eyes hollow.
And when she spoke—
Her voice was a whisper of wind and death.
"You took my place."
Liana staggered back.
"N-No, I didn’t!" she choked out.
The woman took a step closer.
"You took my place," she repeated.
And then—
The room collapsed into shadows.
Liana screamed.
And everything went black.
- Writer
