Capítulo 11: Chapter 11: The Disappearance
Emilia
It's been days since I stepped into the forbidden wing for the first time, but the memory of that chilling whisper still clings to me, haunting my thoughts. I told myself I wouldn't go back, that it was safer to keep my distance. But there's something in this house, in Damien's unreadable gaze, that draws me in, refusing to let me rest until I understand the secrets hidden in the dark corners of this mansion.
Today, with Damien gone on "business" and the house unusually quiet, curiosity takes hold once more. I slip out of my room, my footsteps silent as I head back toward the forbidden wing. The hallway is darker, more oppressive than I remember, as if even the house itself is warning me to turn back. But my mind is made up—I need to know what lies beyond the locked doors and the secrets Damien has tried so hard to keep from me.
The door creaks open, and I step into the dim corridor. The air here is different, thick with a musty, untouched scent, as though no one has entered in years. Shadows stretch across the walls, their shapes distorting with every flicker of candlelight.
As I move deeper into the wing, I find myself drawn to a small, dusty room at the end of the hallway. The door is partially open, and a strange sensation settles over me, a mixture of dread and anticipation. Pushing the door open fully, I step inside.
The room is eerily quiet, but my eyes are immediately drawn to the walls. They're covered in papers, scraps of yellowed parchment and tattered notices pinned haphazardly across the room. I step closer, my heart skipping a beat as I realize what they are—missing person notices, each with a faded photograph and a description beneath.
I scan each notice, my breath catching as I recognize some of the faces. They're all women, their eyes staring back at me from the paper, expressions frozen in time. Some of the photographs look newer than others, but the descriptions follow a similar pattern—disappearances from nearby towns and villages, with no trace ever found. My pulse quickens as I realize they all vanished within a few miles of this estate.
A shiver runs down my spine, and I take a step back, horrified at the implications. Why would Damien keep these hidden away? And what could possibly connect him to these missing people?
Just as I'm piecing together the disturbing possibility, the door to the room slams shut behind me, the sound echoing in the stillness. I whirl around, my heart pounding, but there's no one there. The door stands closed, its solid wood imposing and unyielding, as if sealing me in with the secrets of this place.
"Damien?" I call out, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Silence.
My fingers fumble for the door handle, but it's locked tight, the metal cold and unyielding beneath my grip. Panic begins to rise, my breaths coming faster as I realize I'm trapped. I pound on the door, hoping that someone—anyone—will hear me.
Just then, a faint rustling sound comes from somewhere behind me, and I freeze, dread pooling in my stomach. Slowly, I turn, half-expecting to see a figure lurking in the shadows. But the room is empty, its only occupants the silent faces of those lost women pinned to the walls.
Still, the feeling of being watched persists, an oppressive weight that presses down on me. I press my back against the door, my mind racing with questions. How long will I be trapped here? And worse, what if Damien is the one who locked me in?
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