The grand hall was a masterpiece of wealth and power. Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in golden light, their glittering reflections dancing on polished marble floors. Crimson carpets lined the space, a bold and regal touch, though their richness did little to mask the rot beneath the surface. The air buzzed with tension, punctuated by hurried footsteps, muffled voices, and the occasional clink of glasses.
At the center of it all stood a woman who owned the room without needing to say a word. Eunice. Her blonde hair fell in waves that gleamed under the chandeliers, and the scarlet gown she wore hugged her frame like armor. Everything about her was deliberate, calculated, commanding.
"Are the girls ready?" she asked, her voice low and smooth, yet it sliced through the commotion like a blade.
A woman clutching a clipboard appeared at her side, her face flushed from rushing.
"Yes, Mrs. Eunice," she replied, her tone brisk but nervous. "They'll be on stage in five minutes." She glanced at her watch, her hand trembling slightly, as if afraid of missing the mark.
Eunice's lips curved into a faint, cold smile. "Good," she murmured, though her sharp eyes roamed the room, scanning every detail with a predator's precision. This event wasn't merely important—it was critical.
The murmurs of the crowd dulled to silence as a tall figure emerged onto the stage. His presence was magnetic, pulling every eye toward him with an almost supernatural ease.
He was tall, well-built, and moved with the confidence of someone who had long ago mastered the art of command. His dark skin gleamed under the chandeliers, smooth and flawless as polished onyx. The sharp angles of his jawline and cheekbones framed a face that was undeniably striking—handsome in a way that demanded attention.
His hair was styled upright, each strand appearing deliberate, emphasizing his sharp features. His full lips curled into a smile, revealing brilliantly white teeth that seemed to catch the light. But it was his eyes that captivated most—a deep, rich brown that held both charm and a glint of something more dangerous, something that hinted at his ability to dominate a room.
He wore a tailored suit that fit him like a second skin, the midnight-black fabric contrasting sharply with his radiant skin. Every inch of him radiated poise, as if the stage were built solely for him.
He let the silence stretch, surveying the audience like a king addressing his subjects.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his deep voice carrying effortlessly through the hall, "tonight, we bring you something truly exceptional. A rare opportunity."
The crowd stirred, whispers of anticipation rippling through the room. His smile widened, almost conspiratorial, as if he alone understood the gravity of what was about to unfold.
"Bring them out," he commanded, his voice smooth but weighted with authority.
From backstage, a line of girls emerged, their footsteps hesitant, their faces pale. They ranged in age from seven to twelve, each one dressed immaculately in soft pastels, their hair styled with precision. Yet their wide, fearful eyes betrayed them. These were no children of privilege; they were lambs in a gilded slaughterhouse.
The man on stage turned slightly, gesturing to the girls with a theatrical sweep of his arm.
"Lot 27," he announced, nodding toward a slight girl with dark curls. His tone was practiced, even smooth, but his eyes flickered briefly to Eunice at the back of the hall, as if seeking her approval.
Eunice's satisfaction deepened as she observed the man on stage. His movements were fluid, deliberate, commanding the crowd like a conductor orchestrating a symphony. He had a way of captivating his audience—not just with his striking appearance, but with the sheer force of his charisma. Every word, every gesture, seemed calculated to pull them deeper into the spectacle.
"Lot 27," he repeated, his voice wrapping around the room. The girl hesitated, her trembling hands clutching the fabric of her dress.
He turned to her, his expression softening just enough to appear almost kind. Almost. He crouched slightly to meet her eyes, his voice dropping into something warmer.
"It's all right," he murmured, just loud enough for the front rows to hear. "Stand tall, sweetheart. You're beautiful."
The girl blinked up at him, frozen between fear and confusion. He rose smoothly, turning back to the crowd as if he hadn't just shattered the last shred of the child's resolve.
"Let's start the bidding at ten thousand," he said, flashing another dazzling smile.
The audience responded immediately. Cards shot into the air, voices overlapping as the bids climbed higher and higher.
Eunice leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. From her vantage point, she could see the man's every move, the way he worked the room like a seasoned performer. He was more than a partner—he was a weapon, a sharp edge she wielded to maintain her empire.
As the bidding reached a fever pitch, Eunice's gaze flicked toward the balcony. The air inside the hall felt heavier than usual, suffocating. She stood abruptly, smoothing her gown as she walked toward the side exit.
The night air greeted her like a slap to the face, sharp and cold. She inhaled deeply, letting the chill settle into her lungs. Below her, the city sprawled, its lights twinkling like scattered diamonds. The silence was a stark contrast to the chaos inside, and for a moment, Eunice allowed herself to relax.
The moon hung high and full, casting a silver glow over the balcony. Eunice's sharp eyes followed its light, tracing the outlines of the cityscape below.
"Midnight already," she murmured, her voice barely audible.
A faint sound brushed against her ears—a whisper, almost too soft to catch. She turned her head slightly, her brow furrowing. The whisper came again, more distinct this time.
"Eunice."
She froze. Her breath hitched, her muscles tensing instinctively.
"Hey, Mrs. Eunice!" The voice was louder now, high-pitched and mocking, unmistakably a child's coming from outside the hall
She spun around, her heels clicking sharply against the stone. Her sharp gaze scanned the darkness, but there was no one there. Her mind raced. Did one of them escape?
"This is unacceptable," she hissed as she rushed outside without anyone noticing, her voice low but seething with anger. "Idiots. They had one job."
The voice called again, sing-song and cruel.
"Eunice! Are you deaf, Mrs. Eunice?"
Her jaw tightened, her fists clenching at her sides. No one dared speak to her like that—not a child, not anyone.
"Where are you?" she demanded, her voice echoing into the emptiness.
The silence that followed was heavy, almost suffocating. Her sharp eyes scanned the environment and the shadows beyond, but the voice's owner remained unseen.
"This is impossible," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. "No one escapes. Not from here."
The voice returned, lilting and mocking.
"Eunice. Over here!"
She forced herself to smile, though her stomach twisted with unease.
"Come out now, sweetheart," she cooed, her tone syrupy. "I'll take you back to Mommy and Daddy. I'll even buy you some candy."
Nothing. The silence stretched, unnatural and heavy.
And then she suddenly froze. she began to feel something strange happening to her body, something she couldn't quite understand.
It began as a faint unease, a strange sensation crawling up her spine. Her breath hitched, her chest tightening as if the air had grown heavier around her. A sharp pang pierced through her temple, quick and startling, followed by a creeping dizziness that made her sway on her feet.
The world around her seemed to shift, tilting ever so slightly, the edges of her vision rippling like disturbed water. Her pulse quickened, hammering in her ears with a chaotic rhythm, as though her body was reacting to something unseen. The unease deepened, spreading like wildfire through her veins.
"What... is this?" she murmured, pressing a hand to her temple, her voice strained and trembling. The heaviness grew, pressing down on her chest like a weight she couldn't shake, her body betraying her one faltering step at a time.
"What... what's happening to me?" she muttered, her voice barely audible, trembling as she staggered forward. She pressed a hand against her temple, the cool air around her suddenly feeling thick, oppressive. The voice that had taunted her moments before was gone, leaving behind an eerie, suffocating silence.
But then it came—a presence. A feeling so strong it made her chest tighten and her breath hitch. It wasn't physical, yet it was crushing, like an invisible weight pressing against her very soul.
The aura around her was dark, almost tangible, like a black mist seeping into her mind. It was ancient, primal, radiating malice and power. Eunice froze, her body trembling as she tried to resist the rising tide of fear that clawed at her.
"What... is this feeling?" she whispered hoarsely, her eyes darting around the empty balcony. "Why... can't I move?"
She tried to turn back toward the doors, to call for her security, but her legs buckled beneath her. Her knees hit the cold stone with a sickening thud, her palms scraping against the ground as she gasped for air.
Her vision blurred further, her surroundings dimming as if shadows were encroaching from all sides. Her chest heaved, her breaths ragged and shallow.
Eunice's sharp mind raced to rationalize what was happening. She didn't believe in ghosts or spirits, demons or gods. She was a woman of logic, grounded in facts and evidence. But this—this felt like something beyond reason.
The darkness around her deepened, and through the haze, she saw it. A silhouette.
It was a man—or something shaped like one. His form loomed impossibly tall, cloaked in shadows that seemed to writhe around him like living things. His eyes glowed an unholy red, piercing through the darkness with an intensity that froze her blood. The edges of his figure blurred, as if he existed in some space between reality and nightmare.
Her lips moved, but her voice was faint, trembling.
"H-help..."
Her vision flickered, her strength draining as the oppressive aura grew heavier. The figure didn't move, but she felt his gaze—powerful, merciless, consuming.
Her body trembled violently as she slumped forward, her arms failing to hold her weight. Her eyelids fluttered, and the world dimmed further. The last thing she saw was the fiery glow of his eyes, unwavering and cruel, watching as she sank into unconsciousness.
"Hey, Eunice....wake up"