The night stretched on as Charlotte stood frozen before the hidden door. The faint whispers had stopped, leaving a dangerous silence. gathering all her courage, she pushed the tapestry aside and opened the door. The air was thick with dust and the small scent of decay. She stepped inside with her heart racing.
The room was small and covered in shadows, the only source of lighting from the faint moonlight coming through a narrow window. Her gaze was fixed on an old wooden desk at the far end, its surface covered with papers and a leather-bound journal. Something about it moved her forward.
Charlotte approached cautiously, brushing away the thick layer of dust. The journal's cover bore the Hargrove family crest, its gold lettering faded with time. She opened it, revealing pages filled with compact handwriting and faded ink.
The first entry sent a shiver all over her body:
"The Hargrove estate thrives only through sacrifice. The chosen one ensures the land's prosperity."
Charlotte opens through the pages, each entry more unnerving than the last. The journal detailed a ritual that had been passed down through generations. It spoke of a curse tied to the estate—a curse that demanded a "chosen one" every century to ensure the family's wealth and power. The chosen one would be marked and prepared, their destiny sealed long before they ever understood its weight.
Her hands shook as she turned the pages. She found a diagram of the estate, with certain rooms marked with strange symbols. Her stomach turned as she realized one of the symbols was over her bedroom.
The final entry was dated decades ago and written in hurried, shaky handwriting:
"The time draws near. The chosen must not escape. Without the ritual, everything will crumble."
Charlotte slammed the journal shut, her mind kept racing. Was she the chosen one? Had her adoption been part of some secret plan?
The next morning, Charlotte felt the words in the journal and the revelation sent a shiver through her body, the words weighed heavily on her. She decided to confront Mrs. Hargrove, but the matron seemed oddly distracted.
"Charlotte, dear, everything alright?" Mrs. Hargrove asked over tea, her tone as sweet as always, but her eyes distant.
"I found… something in the house," Charlotte began cautiously, unsure how to approach the subject. "An old journal. It mentioned a ritual tied to the estate."
Mrs. Hargrove froze for a moment, her teacup hitting against its saucer. "Oh, darling, we have so many old stories in this house. You mustn't take them seriously."
"But this didn't feel like a story," Charlotte pressed. "It felt… real."
Mrs. Hargrove's smile stopped. "The past is best left buried and unattended to," she said with a firm voice, her tone left no room for further discussion.
Charlotte's unease increased.
That evening, the Hargrove family gathered for dinner in the grand dining room. The table was lavishly set, and the shining candlelight cast long shadows across the walls. Charlotte sat quietly, her mind still spinning from the journal and Mrs. Hargrove's dodging of the topic. Evelyn, seated across from her, was unusually quiet, her sharp eyes moving toward Charlotte every so often.
The conversation was drained, with Mrs. Hargrove trying to maintain and make things normal. Oliver, however, seemed distracted, his fingers tapping against the table uneasily.
Midway through dinner, the air became heavy, and an unnatural quietness went through the room. Charlotte shivered, looking around.
Then, Evelyn breathed heavily.
Her hand went to her chest, her face deformed in pain. "I… can't breathe," she choked out, collapsing onto the table.
Immediately everywhere became chaotic. Mrs. Hargrove screamed, and Oliver rose to his feet, shouting for help. Charlotte froze with her gaze fixed on the shadows in the corners of the room.
They were moving.
The shining candlelight showed dark, human shapes that seemed to shine in and out of creation. The shadows stretched and twisted, their forms indistinct but undeniably scary.
"Evelyn!" Mrs. Hargrove cried, shaking her daughter's shamble body.
Charlotte stood, her heart pounding. The shadows seemed to be alive, moving toward Evelyn's collapsed body. One of them turned, its hollow eyes locking onto Charlotte.
She stumbled backward, trying to catch her breath.
And then she saw him.
Jack stood in the corner of the room, partially covered by the shadows. His face was sober, his penetrating eyes meeting hers. He raised a finger to his lips, a silent warning.
Before she could react, he disappeared, dissolving into the darkness like he'd never been there.
Evelyn's body jerked, and Mrs. Hargrove's cry increased louder. Suddenly, Evelyn coughed out for air, her eyes opened slowly. She looked around wildly, her face became pale and covered in sweat.
Mrs. Hargrove hugged her tightly, tears rolling down her face. "You collapsed, darling. Oh, thank heavens you're alright."
But Charlotte couldn't forget the image of the shadows—or Jack.
Later that night, unable to sleep, Charlotte walked around her room. The events of the evening replayed in her mind like a broken record. Evelyn's collapse, the moving shadows, Jack's secret presence, everything felt connected.
while walking around, Her eyes went to the journal, which she'd brought back to her room. She opened it again, checking the content for anything she might have missed. One passage stood out:
"The chosen one will see the shadows first. They will feel their presence, and hear their whispers. The signs cannot be ignored."
A serious shiver went through her whole body immediately. Was she seeing the signs? Or was Evelyn?
Determined to find answers, Charlotte decided to look for Jack. He knew more than he was giving out, and she couldn't ignore his warning any longer. putting on a coat, she slipped out of her room and sneaked through the silent halls of the mansion.
The night air was very cold as she stepped outside. The woods appeared ahead, dark and uneasy. She stopped for a moment before jumping into the shadows, the sound of her footsteps was covered by the wetness of the ground.
"Jack!" she called out softly, her voice shaking. "I need to talk to you!"
Silence.
She pressed on, her nerves failing with every moving second. The trees seemed to be closer than before, their rough branches facing the sky.
Just as she was about to turn back, she heard a small rustling sound of leaves, like someone moving through the bush.
"Jack?" she whispered.
A figure stepped out of the shadows, but it wasn't Jack. It was Evelyn.
Her face was pale, and her facial expression unreadable.
"What are you doing out here?" Charlotte asked with her voice shaking.
Evelyn didn't answer. She took a step closer, her eyes shining in the moonlight.
"You're hiding something," Evelyn said with a low voice. "I know you are."
Charlotte's countenance changed immediately. "what are you talking about"
"Don't act like you don't know what I am talking about, all the sneaking around, and looking for secrets that don't belong to you" Evelyn snapped immediately at her saying.
Charlotte's heart kept racing upon hearing that but she kept her composure. "I don't know what you mean."
Evelyn shouted, "Liar,". "You know the truth about this family, about the legacy. You've known all along."
Charlotte answered immediately. "No, I haven't, and I don't know anything!"
"Then why are the shadows following you?" Evelyn's said while shouting at her.
Charlotte froze immediately. "what do you mean?"
"You've seen them, haven't you?" Evelyn asked further. "The shadows. They're drawn to you."
Charlotte took a step back, her mind kept stumbling. "I don't know what you're talking about," she responded.
Evelyn laughed. "You can't escape it, Charlotte. None of us can."
Before Charlotte could respond, Evelyn turned and disappeared into the woods, leaving her alone with her racing thoughts in the darkness.
Charlotte looked around after Evelyn disappeared with her heart pounding from the revelations she just heard and her last sentence. she turned around to take her leave when she felt a touch on her shoulder, with fear in her she was about to shout when she saw the face of the person which happened to be Jack.