Lilia's voice came out in a soft, trembling whisper.
"Is anyone there?"
The words felt thick in her throat as her body shook uncontrollably. She stood alone, clad only in a silky white nightdress that fluttered around her ankles in the cold night air. One hand was covering her chest while the other gripped a torch. Her bare feet barely made a sound against the grass, but the chill was biting. She had stepped out of the mansion, drawn by an uneasy feeling gnawing at her for the past three days. It was as though something—or someone—was watching her from the shadows, always just out of sight. As if watching her sleep, and today, for some reason, she could not ignore it.
For the past three nights, Lilia had felt it. The unease creeping over her, the sensation of eyes following her, observing her every move. At first, she thought it was just her imagination, some trick her mind was playing on her. But as the days passed, the feeling grew stronger, and tonight, it was overwhelming. It was no longer just a passing thought—it was a constant pressure, a weight on her chest. Someone was out there. She could feel it. But who?
If she wasn't mistaken, her room was on the top floor. So why did it feel like that person was always at her window?
Her thoughts scattered as her body began to shake even more violently, as if the air around her was thick with fear. She tightened her grip on the small torch in her hand, its flickering light barely cutting through the darkness surrounding her. The mansion loomed behind her, silent and imposing, yet somehow distant. Why had she stepped out? Why tonight of all nights?
A faint rustle in the shadows caught her attention. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was enough to freeze her in place. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she slowly turned the torch around, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever—or whoever—had passed by. Her heart hammered in her chest as the light swung in a wide arc, but she saw nothing.
The silence stretched out before her, oppressive and thick. The wind, which had been calm just moments ago, shifted, brushing against her back as if someone had passed by. No—she saw something darker. Her heart skipped a beat as her gaze sharpened, scanning the shadows, but the darkness seemed to absorb everything. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.
"Haha," she laughed, the sound hollow in the vast emptiness around her. She tried to force a smile, to remind herself that it was just her imagination running wild. But the question remained: Would a sane person laugh in a situation like this?
'Go back now, Lilia.' She said to herself, the words echoing in her mind. Her feet, however, remained rooted to the spot, her body trembling with an icy dread that had nothing to do with the night's chill.
Goosebumps erupted along her arms, the sensation of icy fingers running down her spine. Her eyes widened in alarm, and a shaky breath escaped her lips. Her heart raced. It wasn't just the chill of the night—it was something more, something unsettling, something that made her skin crawl.
Why was she even out here? What was she doing?
The torch flickered in her hand. She glanced down at it, tapping the switch in a panicked attempt to keep the light alive. But as soon as she looked up, the flame blinked and twitched before it went out.
"No, please," she whispered, as though her pleading might somehow bring the light back. Her body trembled so violently she could hardly stand still. The night air seemed to have grown colder, as if it were drawing in around her, suffocating her. Every breath she took was shallow, and her head spun with fear. She hit the torch harder, trying desperately to ignite it.
"Please… no," she whispered again, the words a barely audible plea.
Her mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. Why had the torch gone out? She had just checked it moments ago. It had been working fine, and now—nothing. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as the night seemed to press in on her, the silence deafening. What was happening? Her hands shook as she dropped the torch, the clattering sound of it hitting the ground startling in the stillness. She took a tentative step back, her heart pounding louder in her ears.
Her feet were frozen to the ground, and yet she couldn't bring herself to move. The fear gripped her, a cold, gnawing fear that seemed to seep into her very bones. Her thoughts spun wildly—was it her imagination? Was she overreacting? Or was someone really watching her?
The torch lay on the ground in front of her, its faint light still flickering weakly. The shadows seemed to swallow the light whole, leaving her in a thick, suffocating darkness. Her breath came faster now, more erratic, and she clutched at the fabric of her nightdress, trying to steady herself.
And then she saw it—a shadow. Her body froze, and the cold blood in her veins seemed to run even colder. But just as she blinked, it was gone.
And then, without warning, a hand suddenly grabbed her wrist.
Her body jerked in terror, her scream echoing in the silence.
"Ahhh!" The sound tore from her throat before she could even register what had happened. The suddenness of the touch sent waves of panic crashing over her, her heart racing, her mind reeling. She tried to pull away, but the grip on her wrist was unyielding.
She spun around, her eyes wide with terror, her mind scrambling to make sense of the situation. But the moment she saw who had pulled her, all the air seemed to leave her lungs in a rush.
It was her mother.
Lilia's heart skipped a beat as her wide eyes locked onto her mother's stern face. Her breath caught in her throat, a mixture of relief and fear flooding her chest. Relief because it was someone familiar, someone who could pull her out of this nightmare. But the fear quickly overshadowed it as she saw the anger and suspicion in her mother's eyes.
"What are you doing out here at this hour?" her mother's voice was low and demanding, cold with reprimand.
How could she explain to her mother that she was here because of curiosity—because she felt someone watching her? Curiosity really did kill the cat, and from the way her mother was staring at her, Lilia might as well have been dead already.