The room was a luxurious cage. A prison of velvet and gold. Qira's breath caught in her throat as the heavy door swung shut behind her.
leaving her alone in the opulent room. She clutched, her breath caught in her throat. It was as if she'd stepped into a dream. A surrealist of golden plush and shadows. The air think with sent of expensive perfume and something else, a hint of danger clung to the room like a phantom.
Her eyes roamed the room, taking in the intricate details. There was a grand piano in the corner. Opposite it, a colossal marble fireplace dominated the wall, flanked by bookcases filled with lather bound volumes, invited slumber yet promised no escape.
Qira felt a strange dissonance. The beauty around her contrary to the fear that gnawed at her inside. She was a bird trapped in a golden cage, mesmerized by its Splendour, yet desperate to break free.
As her eyes adjusted to the sim light, she noticed a woman's portrait hanging on the wall. It was a haunting image, a woman with eyes as deep as the ocean, her expression a mix of longing and resignation.Qira felt an inexplicable connection to the woman
She turned away from the portrait her gaze falling on her own reflection in a mirror. She saw a stranger, a woman transformed by fear and uncertainty. But there was a pulse, a spark of resilience that refused to be extinguished.
She was a prisoner, yes, but she was also Qira a woman with a spirit that could not be confined.
The memory was a jagged scar on her mind, a scene replayed in vivid, horrifying detail. She was a child then, a creature of innocence unaware of the darkness lurking just beyond the familiar walls of her home.
The day began like any other, filled with the sweet simplicity of childhood, sunlight streamed through the window, casting shadows on the worm floor.
Laughter and the clink of untensils punctuated the rhythm of the morning as her mother prepared breakfast fast. Her father a man of warmth and strength was the sun around which their small world revolves.
Then, the tranquility shattered. A frantic pounding on the door echoed through the house, followed by her father's panicked voice. "Hide!" He shouted, his words laced with fear.
A cold dread seeped into her young heart as she and Anslo obeyed, crouching beneath the heavy dinning table. The world outside seemed to explode in chaos. A chaos of shouts and thuds that sent shivers down her spine.
Hours passed, an eternity for a child. The house was silent, save for the ticking of the grandfather clock and the heavy beat of her heart.
When the silence finally broke, it was with a force that froze her blood. The front door creaked open, and a group of men, their faces hard and eyes cold filled the doorway.
Their leader a man with a cruel smile that did not reach his eyes, demanded, " where is it? The box! Tell us or we"ll make you had".
Her father a broken figure stood before them, his voice barely a whisper. "I.. I don't know what you're talking about ", he stammered. The leader's patience was short lived. A gun appeared, a cold metallic thing that seemed to grow larger with every passing second.
A single shot echoed through the house and her world tilted on its axis
She watched in horror as her father crumpled to the floor, a crimson stain spreading across his once vibrant shirt. The men , their mission accomplished, turned and left as swiftly as they had arrived, leaving behind a trail of fear and a life irrevocably altered.
As she recalled her father's final moments, he lay on his pool of blood, his voice a mere whispered called the weight of a lifetime.
"Qira", she leaned closer, her heart pounding in her chest, "promise me, Qira", he had said his voice a mere whisper, "promise me you"ll protest this house".
Qira nodded, her young heart filled with a determination that belied her age. She had made a vow, a sacred oath to her parents, to safeguard their legacy.
Years after the shocking incident had happened, She remembered returning home from college, her heart filled with anticipation, it was her 18th birthday, a milestone mark by celebration and hope.
The house usually alive with the sounds of life, was eerily silent. A cold dread crept into her as she stepped inside. The silence was suffocating, a tangible presence that filled the empty rooms.
As she moved through the house, a growing sense of unease enveloped her. The silence broken only by the ticking of the clock, a relentless reminder of the passage of time. And then, she saw it.
Her mother Mrs kapla lay lifeless on the living room floor, a stark to the vibrant woman she had been, A cold dread seized her as she rushed to her mother's side.
A note scrawled in crude handwriting was left beside her body. " until I find the hidden box, I will keep coming". The note read, a chilling threat that sent shiver down her spine.
Qira's world shattered in that moment, the girl who had returned home with dreams of the future was now confronted with the harsh realities of the present.
The note, a mysterious message became an obsession. She searched the house, desperate for answers, turn down every nook and cranny for a clue that would lead her to the hidden box. But the secret remained elusive. A phantom that danced just beyond her grasp.
As days turned into weeks, weeks into months, Qira began to realized that she was alone In this fight, the police were baffled, the evidence scarce. She and Anslo were left to face the darkness on their own.
She would find the box, she vowed silently. She would uncover the secret and break the cycle of violence.
A creak from the door jolted her from her reverie. A cold sweat broke out as her heart pounded against her ribs.
But as the door swung open fully, the figures emerged from the shadows. It was not a menacing figure, but a tray of maid, their faces etched with concern.