The grand hall was quiet, the kind of silence that presses down on you, heavy and alive. My boots clicked softly against the marble floor as I stepped further inside. The room was vast, the ceiling arching high above me like the inside of a cathedral, but it wasn’t the grandeur that stole my breath.

It was the piano.

There it stood, polished but old, its dark wood gleaming faintly in the dusty light streaming through cracked windows. My heart skipped a beat as I approached it, my fingers trembling.

I’d seen this before. Not here, but in my dreams.

Every detail was the same—the curve of the legs, the ivory keys, even the faint scratch on its surface. My fingertips brushed against the edge, and a chill ran down my spine. The air felt thicker, charged, as if the room itself was holding its breath.

I couldn’t stop myself. My hand moved to the keys, pressing down on one softly. A single, mournful note echoed through the hall, reverberating like a whisper in the shadows.

“It’s the same,” I murmured to myself, my voice barely above a whisper.

I played another note, then another, forming a melody I didn’t know I remembered. The sound filled the empty space, wrapping around me like a forgotten memory. Goosebumps prickled along my arms, and I pulled my hands away as if the keys had burned me.

I turned, drawn to the balcony ahead. My boots kicked up dust as I walked, the cold air biting at my skin. Stepping out onto the balcony, I gripped the railing and looked up.

The roof above was faded with time, but the design... I knew it. The intricate patterns, the deep crimson color, the way the beams crisscrossed in delicate spirals—it was all from my dreams. It was the place where feathers falling and Lucian and I looking at each others.

I stared at it, frozen, my breath caught in my throat. How was this possible?

The wind swept through the hall, rattling the broken panes of glass. My pulse quickened as unease crept up my spine.

I turned back and moved deeper into the castle, my steps quickening. Each room I passed seemed to pull at me, like the house itself was alive and urging me forward.

And then I stopped at a door, slightly ajar.

Pushing it open, I stepped inside. The air was colder here, the scent of old wood and decay thick. The room was small, with a single chair in the center.

As I crossed the threshold, the world shifted.

Images flashed in my mind—quick, sharp, like a film reel spinning out of control. Laughter echoed, then music. I saw me twirl in the moonlight, my dress catching the glow. Lucian stood by the window, his dark eyes watching me with an intensity that made my chest ache.

I stumbled back, clutching the doorframe.

“What is this?” I whispered, my voice shaky.

I move in another room, Inside, the another piano sits untouched, but it looks different. Clean, polished, like someone has been playing it. Candles flicker, their flames steady.

I approach it, drawn by something I can’t explain. My fingers graze the keys, and suddenly I’m not in the room anymore.

The vision is blindingly white.

I see myself, sitting at the piano. My hands are small, delicate, as i press the keys. A man stands behind me, guiding my hands, laughing softly when I gets it wrong.

His voice is clear. “Like this, Elara.”

Elara.

The name echoes in my mind as the vision fades.

I’m back in the room, my hand trembling on the piano. The whispers are louder now, frantic, as if warning me.

Then I see them.

Two glowing eyes, bright red, staring at me from the shadows.

They’re sharp, dangerous, and yet… familiar.

I blink, and they’re gone.

Panic takes over.

I stumble back, nearly knocking over a candle, and bolt for the stairs. The whispers chase me, louder and louder, until I burst through the front door into the rain.

I don’t stop running.

The fog wraps around me, the castle disappearing behind its veil, but the feeling stays with me.

The whispers.

The eyes.

The name.

Elara.
The rain hadn’t stopped all day, and the gray clouds mirrored my mood as I sat curled up on my bed, staring out the window. A soft knock came at my door before Celia pushed it open, her face a mixture of curiosity and unease.

“Elena,” she started, closing the door behind her, “I need to ask you something, and I want the truth.”

I turned to her, already dreading where this was going. “What is it?”

She sat down beside me, her eyes scanning my face like she was searching for hidden answers. “Have you noticed anything… strange lately? Around here, near our neighborhood?”

My heart skipped a beat. I kept my expression calm, though inside, I felt like the walls were closing in. “What do you mean by strange?”

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I mean things that don’t make sense. Shadows that move when no one’s there, animals acting weird, and… I swear, last night I heard something outside my window. When I looked, I thought I saw… glowing red eyes.”

The words hit me like a punch to the chest. My mouth went dry, but I forced myself to respond. “Red eyes?” I repeated, feigning surprise.

Celia nodded, her brows furrowed. “Yes. I didn’t imagine it, Elena. And it’s not just that. The other day, I found claw marks on the tree outside our house. Deep ones. Too big for any animal I know.”

I hesitated, the memory of my own encounter flashing in my mind. The figure in the shadows, those crimson eyes piercing through the darkness. “I… I saw them too,” I admitted quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her eyes widened. “You did?”

I nodded slowly. “Yesterday. I was walking home, and I saw… something. It was watching me from the trees. Red eyes, just like you said.”

Celia grabbed my arm, her grip tight. “This is serious, Elena. Something’s happening here. We can’t ignore it.”

I swallowed hard, avoiding her gaze. “I know, but… maybe we’re overthinking it. It could be—”

“Elena, don’t do that,” she cut me off. “Don’t brush this off. You’ve seen it too. We need to figure out what’s going on.”

I nodded, though guilt churned in my stomach. I hadn’t told her everything. I couldn’t. The castle, the visions, Lucian—it was too much to explain, too dangerous to share.

Celia stared at me for a moment longer, then softened. “Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay? And if you see anything else, you’ll tell me.”

“I promise,” I said, though the lie burned my tongue.

She gave me a small smile and stood. “Good. Because I’m not letting anything happen to you. We’re in this together.”

“I need your help,” I say, trying to sound casual.

“Okay…” Her voice perks up. “What kind of help?”

I hesitate. “I want to go back to the castle tomorrow. Will you come with me?”

There’s a pause. Then Celia laughs. “Are you serious? You want to check out the creepy haunted castle? I thought you hated stuff like that.”

“I do,” I admit, “but I can’t stop thinking about it. Please? I just… I don’t want to go alone.”

“Say no more,” she says, her voice buzzing with excitement. “I’m in. I’ve been dying to check that place out anyway. Tomorrow after school?”

“Yeah,” I say, relief flooding me. “Thanks, Celia.”

She laughs again. “You owe me big time for this, just so you know. And if we find any ghosts, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” I say.

As she left the room, I let out a shaky breath, the weight of my secrets pressing down on me. Celia had no idea how much danger we were in—or how much of it I was hiding from her.

That night, I toss and turn in bed, the castle haunting my thoughts. I knew the castle held a lot of secrets. I finally fall into a restless sleep, but my dreams are filled with flashes of white light and faint whispers of a name I don’t understand.

The next morning, the weather is as dreary as ever. The fog is so thick I can barely see the end of the street as I walk to school. It feels like the whole town is wrapped in a heavy blanket, quiet and still.

By the time I get to history class, I’m already on edge. I sit near the middle, hoping to blend in, but the moment I look up, my stomach flips.

Lucian is staring at me.

Not just glancing—staring.

His eyes are dark and intense, like he’s trying to see right through me. I fumble with my notebook, trying to ignore him, but it’s impossible.

Why is he looking at me like that? But my brain felt hatred like I should killed him, like my hands wants his blood. Or on the other hand my heart its saying that we have a connection from past, like we loved each other unconditionally.

The teacher starts the lesson, but I can’t focus. Every time I glance up, he’s still staring. It’s not like he’s mad… it’s something else. Like he wants to kill me or wants to push me from the cliff of mount Everest.

It feels really dangerous.

By the time class is over, my nerves are shot.

As the bell rings, Lucian stands abruptly and rushes out of the room before anyone else.

I sit frozen in my chair, my heart racing. What’s his problem?

Celia nudges me as we leave the classroom. “What’s with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Nothing, just Lucian thing” I mumble, keeping my eyes down.

“Uh-huh, what thing? Are you in love or anything else?” she says, clearly not buying it.
I replied "no..he is just weird."

After school, we meet at the edge of the woods. Celia is practically bouncing with excitement as we make our way to the castle.

“This is going to be amazing,” she says. “I mean, how many people actually get to explore a real haunted castle?”

“Yeah,” I say, my voice flat.

The path is even more eerie in the late afternoon. The fog is thicker, and the trees seem to close in around us. When we reach the castle, I hesitate, staring up at its dark, towering silhouette.

Celia doesn’t wait for me. She pushes the door open and steps inside. “Come on!”

I follow her, the air inside just as cold and damp as I remember. The whispers start almost immediately, faint and distant.

“Do you hear that?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Hear what?” Celia says, glancing around.

We make our way through the halls, the floor creaking under our feet. When we reach the grand staircase, Celia gasps.

“Look at that,” she says, pointing to a portrait hanging on the wall.

It’s old, the paint cracked and faded, but the figures are clear. The woman is Elena in a flowing dress, her face hauntingly familiar, stands beside a man with sharp, piercing eyes.

“It looks like you,” Celia says, stepping closer.

I shake my head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

But she’s right. The woman in the painting does look like me.

Before I can say anything else, the whispers grow louder, and the temperature drops.

And then I see them.

The glowing red eyes, again.

They’re in the shadows, watching us.

“Did you see that?” I whisper, grabbing Celia’s arm.

“See what?” she says, frowning. "The monster who is killing people just stand before us. I said to Celia but she denied and laughing. She was thinking the same thing that of there is any monster so why it didn't killed us here. I blink, and the eyes were gone.

The room grows still, but the feeling remains.

Someone—or something—is watching us.

Suddenly, the haunting screaming of girls and boys scattered echoing. They were shouting "please, pity on me." Me and Celia take a deep breath and without look back we run out the castle and left to our homes very scared. Perhaps the vampires returned.