Lucifer's Captive Bride

I've never felt truly alone, not since the accident. There's always been something-someone-watching me. I can't explain it, but it's there. A shadow in the corner of my vision, a chill that creeps down my spine when I'm alone in the house.

I remember that day like it was yesterday, no matter how hard I try to forget. The screeching tires, the glass shattering, the smell of burning rubber. I remember crawling from the wreckage, my heart pounding, and seeing him-just standing there in the distance, watching. I've told myself a thousand times that it wasn't real, that it was just my mind playing tricks on me. But that cold feeling, the way his eyes seemed to hold mine even from far away-I'll never forget it.

It's been seven years since the accident, and sometimes I still wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, that same cold creeping through me. I hear footsteps in the halls when there's no one else around. I see shadows move when they shouldn't.

I shake it off most days. I have to.

My seventeenth birthday is tomorrow, and I should be excited. But instead, all I feel is uneasy. Maybe it's the weather.

I can't shake the feeling that something is coming. Something I can't stop.

I turn away from the window and head to the kitchen, trying to push the thoughts out of my head. It's just another storm, I tell myself. Just another night.

But as I step into the hallway, I see it-a figure, standing at the far end. Tall, dark, watching me. My heart skips a beat, my breath catching in my throat. For a second, I think it's just a trick of the light, but then he moves. Slowly, deliberately.

I blink, and he's gone.

I stand frozen, my heart racing, staring at the empty hallway. He was there. I know he was. But there's no one here now, just the echo of my footsteps and the pounding of my heart.

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to move. It's nothing, just my mind playing tricks again. I've seen things like this before. But this time, it felt different. More real.

I glance back at the hallway one last time before I head to my room, closing the door behind me. As I lay down in bed, I can't help but feel like the storm isn't the only thing coming.

Something-or someone-is watching. And I have no idea who he is.

••••

The next morning is just like every other. I wake up before the sun rises, the quiet of the house pressing down on me. Aunt Tessa is probably still asleep in her room, and I move quickly, not wanting to wake her. Not that it matters. We haven't had a proper conversation in years, and even the sound of my footsteps tends to annoy her. I know what she thinks every time she looks at me. I see it in her eyes: the resentment, the anger. To her, I'm the one who stole her sister away, the one who somehow survived when my parents and siblings didn't.

The small bedroom I sleep in has no windows, just four walls and a ceiling that feels closer every day. It used to be a storage room before Aunt Tessa reluctantly gave it to me after my parents died. I grab my work clothes from the chair by the door and slip into them. Same as always-jeans worn down at the knees, a shirt that's faded from too many washes, and shoes that feel like they'll fall apart at any second. I don't care what I look like. At the restaurant, no one notices. No one ever notices.

The kitchen is as cold and empty as I left it last night. I glance at the fridge out of habit, but I already know what's inside. A few leftovers from Aunt Tessa's dinner, none of which she'll offer to me. She never does. I grab my bag and head out the door before she can wake up, the early morning chill biting at my skin. The walk to the restaurant is short, but it's the only time of the day I feel free. There's no one here to glare at me, no one to remind me of what I've lost.

By the time I arrive at the restaurant, the sun is starting to peek over the horizon, casting long shadows across the sidewalk. Mrs. Patel is already inside, moving with the speed and efficiency of someone who's been doing this for decades. She's a small woman, with graying hair pulled into a tight bun and sharp eyes that don't miss a thing. I like her. She doesn't pity me, and she doesn't treat me like I'm invisible. She just expects me to work hard, and that's something I can do.

"Morning, Selene," she calls out from behind the counter, not looking up from the register.

"Morning, Mrs. Patel," I reply, tying my apron around my waist and slipping into the back to start the dishes. The familiar clatter of plates and the hiss of the dishwasher fill the kitchen, and I let myself fall into the rhythm of it. The routine is comforting, even if it's exhausting. At least here, I'm useful. At least here, I can forget about everything else.

The lunch rush comes in waves, with customers filing in and out, their voices blending into a constant hum of conversation. I barely notice them, my hands moving on autopilot as I clear tables and refill drinks. Every now and then, Mrs. Patel catches my eye and nods approvingly. It's the only acknowledgment I need.

By noon, the crowd thins out, and the restaurant settles into its usual midday lull. That's when the doorbell chimes, and I glance up to see Liam walking in, a grin already spreading across his face. He looks the same as always-messy blond hair, a leather jacket he wears no matter the weather, and a lightness about him that I can't help but envy.

"Hey, stranger," he says, sliding into his usual booth by the window. "Got a minute?"

I shake my head but smile despite myself. "Barely. Mrs. Patel has me running around like crazy."

"Yeah, yeah, but you've always got time for me, right?" Liam leans back in his seat, giving me that mischievous look that always makes it hard to stay mad at him.

I roll my eyes, wiping my hands on the towel hanging from my apron. "Fine. What's the gossip today?"

Liam's eyes light up as he leans in, lowering his voice as if we're sharing some grand secret. "Alright, so you know that old mansion on the edge of town? The one everyone says is haunted?"

I nod. Everyone in town knows about that place. It's been abandoned for as long as I can remember, and no one ever goes near it. Not unless they're looking for trouble.

"Well," Liam continues, "I heard some new guy bought it. Moved in a few weeks ago, apparently. Rich, mysterious, you know the type."

I raise an eyebrow. "And? People buy houses all the time. What's so special about this guy?"

Liam leans forward, his voice dropping even lower. "The thing is, no one's seen him. He shows up out of nowhere, buys the place, and now there are all these rumors about weird things happening around the mansion. Shadows moving when they shouldn't, strange noises at night. That kind of thing."

"Sounds like town gossip," I say, but there's a part of me that's intrigued. The mansion has always been a source of fascination for people around here, and it's easy to imagine them spinning stories about anyone who dares to live there.

"Maybe," Liam admits, "but I thought it'd be fun to check it out. You and me, tonight. What do you say?"

I snort, shaking my head. "You want to sneak into some rich guy's house just because people are saying it's haunted? Sounds like a terrible idea."

"Come on, where's your sense of adventure?" Liam grins, nudging my arm. "It'll be fun. Besides, when's the last time you did something exciting?"

I open my mouth to argue, but I can't think of a good response. He's not wrong. My life is about as far from exciting as it gets. Day in and day out, I'm either here at the restaurant or at Aunt Tessa's house, trying to avoid her glares. Maybe a little adventure wouldn't hurt.

Before I can say anything, Mrs. Patel pokes her head out of the kitchen. "Selene, I need you in here."

I sigh, giving Liam an apologetic look. "I'll think about it, okay? But no promises."

Liam grins, clearly satisfied with that. "That's all I ask."

I head back to the kitchen, where Mrs. Patel hands me another stack of dishes. The rest of the day passes in a blur of orders, dishes, and tired feet. By the time my shift ends, the sun is dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the street outside.

I step out into the cool evening air, I spot Liam waiting for me by the door. His grin is as wide as ever.

"Ready?" he asks, like I've already agreed to his crazy plan.

I groan but can't help smiling. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Never." He slings an arm around my shoulders as we walk down the street. "Come on, Selene. It'll be fun. Just think of it as a little adventure."

For a moment, I almost believe him. It feels good to laugh, to let go of the weight that's always pressing down on me. But as we walk, that strange feeling creeps back-the one I've been trying to ignore. Like someone's watching me. I glance over my shoulder, half-expecting to see the figure from the night before. But there's nothing there. Just the empty street, the wind rustling the leaves.

I shake it off, telling myself it's just my imagination. After all, ghosts aren't real. Right?

The mansion was massive, larger than I had ever imagined. Its sheer size made me feel small, like a speck of dust in the shadow of something ancient. As we walked closer, I felt the weight of it looming over us, an old beast that had long been forgotten by the world but still carried the memory of every soul who had ever crossed its threshold.

I glanced up, and for a moment, I thought I saw movement behind the grimy windows. But when I blinked, it was gone-just shadows, I told myself. Still, a chill crept down my spine. The place looked like it had been abandoned for centuries, left to decay and wither away under the weight of time.

The front gate, which once might have been an imposing barrier, was now rusted and hanging off its hinges, the wrought iron curling into twisted shapes that looked like something from a nightmare. Liam pushed it open with a creak, and the sound made me flinch, though he didn't seem to notice. I followed him up the overgrown path, weeds and dead leaves crunching under our feet, the silence of the place pressing down on me.

The front door was slightly ajar, a gaping mouth inviting us in. It was huge-made of dark wood and carved with strange, swirling designs that I couldn't quite make out. Ancient symbols, maybe. I didn't like the way they seemed to shimmer in the fading light, as if they held some forgotten power. I hesitated at the threshold, my hand hovering over the handle.

"Come on, Selene," Liam called, already inside. "It's just an old house."

Just an old house. Yeah, right. I took a deep breath and stepped inside, immediately feeling the temperature drop. The air was thick, heavy, like it hadn't been disturbed in decades. Dust clung to everything, swirling in the faint shafts of light that managed to break through the filthy windows.

The foyer was enormous, far bigger than I expected. The ceilings stretched so high I could barely make out the top, lost in shadow. There was a grand staircase right in the center, winding its way up to the second floor like something out of a gothic painting. The banisters were carved with intricate designs, delicate spirals that looked as though they'd been crafted by a master long ago. But now they were worn, covered in a thick layer of dust that made the whole place feel...

forgotten.Spider webs stretched across the corners of the room, some of them so thick and dense that they looked like lace curtains. They draped from the chandelier overhead-an enormous piece with countless crystals that should have sparkled but were now dull and clouded with dirt. A few of the crystals had fallen, their shattered remains scattered on the floor beneath.

The walls were lined with faded wallpaper that must have been beautiful once, but now it was peeling, curling at the edges like dead skin. Portraits hung crookedly on the walls-stern faces, cold and lifeless, staring down at me as if they were judging our intrusion. The frames were tarnished gold, and the eyes of the figures seemed to follow me wherever I moved. I shivered, tearing my gaze away.

"This place is amazing!" Liam's voice echoed through the vast space as he ran his fingers along a dusty table. "Can you believe it's just been sitting here like this?"

I couldn't answer him. All I could do was stare, my eyes tracing the lines of the grand staircase, the walls, the chandeliers, trying to take it all in. The mansion was beautiful in its own way, but it was the kind of beauty that made me uneasy. It felt too still, like the house was waiting for something.

Cobwebs covered everything-looping over doorframes, draping from the banisters, clinging to the intricate crown molding at the ceiling's edge. Some of the webs were so thick they seemed almost intentional, like someone had spun them to trap unwelcome guests. I didn't dare touch them. The mere thought of brushing against those sticky strands made my skin crawl.

I moved closer to the grand staircase, my footsteps soft on the marble floor, though the sound still echoed in the vast emptiness. There was a chill in the air, deeper than the cold outside, as if the house itself was breathing down my neck. I tried to shake the feeling, but it clung to me, settling in the pit of my stomach.

Above the fireplace at the far end of the room hung the largest portrait of all. It was of a man, stern and imposing, his eyes piercing and sharp, though his face held a faint smile that didn't reach his eyes. I could feel his gaze on me even when I looked away, as if he was watching us with some hidden intent.

"This is unreal," Liam whispered, his voice full of awe as he stood beside me, staring up at the grand chandelier. "Can you imagine what it must've been like back in its prime?"

I couldn't imagine it. The house felt too full of shadows and secrets. Every inch of it seemed to whisper of something long forgotten, something that didn't belong to our world anymore.

I swallowed hard, glancing toward the staircase again. The second floor stretched out above us in dark, endless hallways, with closed doors that seemed to hold more than just dust and cobwebs behind them.

"This place is huge," I finally said, my voice barely a whisper.

Liam just grinned, taking a few more steps forward. "Come on. Let's check it out upstairs."

I didn't want to go. I wanted to turn around, leave the mansion behind, and never look back. But Liam was already heading for the staircase, his excitement pulling him forward, and I couldn't let him go alone. I mean, I will certainly be scared being left behind.

As I followed him up the creaking stairs, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching us. Not just the portraits on the walls, but something... else. Something that was part of the mansion itself, woven into the spider webs and hidden in the shadows.

The stairs groaned under our weight as we ascended, each creak echoing through the hollow mansion. I clung to the banister, running my hand along the carved wood that was slick with dust, trying to ground myself. The air was even colder up here, and the smell of damp and decay was stronger. It was like walking into the heart of a long-dead beast.

We reached the landing, where the hall split off into several directions. Dark corridors stretched before us, lined with closed doors that seemed to go on forever. The wood floors beneath our feet creaked ominously, as if warning us not to go any further.

Liam, of course, ignored it. He moved ahead, peering into one of the open doorways. "Check this out," he called over his shoulder.

I reluctantly followed, stepping into what must have once been a bedroom. The walls were lined with faded wallpaper, floral patterns long eaten away by time. An enormous four-poster bed stood in the center, draped with what remained of moth-eaten curtains. The bed itself was still made, the covers yellowed and stiff with age, as though whoever had slept there had left in a hurry and never returned.

A large wardrobe stood against the far wall, its doors slightly ajar. I half-expected something to jump out of it-a rat, a bird, maybe even a ghost. But there was nothing, just the eerie stillness that clung to everything in this house. Dust motes danced in the pale light from the window, disturbed only by our presence.

"This place is straight out of a horror movie," Liam said, grinning as he walked over to the wardrobe and pulled it open wider. It creaked, a long, mournful sound, revealing nothing but empty shelves. "Kinda creepy, huh?"