THE SHADOW BEHIND THE FLAMES

Velma's body was curled close to Daniel's, her cheek resting against his chest, his steady heartbeat guiding her toward sleep. The room was still, lit only by the dying flicker of a candle on the dresser. A soft breeze rolled in from the open window, carrying the faint scent of rain and lavender.

But then—something changed.

She stirred.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Suddenly, her limbs felt like stone, her breath shallow. She opened her eyes and found the room veiled in an unnatural darkness, thicker than shadows. The warmth beside her had vanished.

Her gaze fixed on the corner across the room.

Two glowing red eyes stared back at her.

Wide, fixed. Unblinking.

They hovered mid-air, high—too high to belong to any human. From above them curled two dark, twisted horns, spiraling like they had grown through pain. The air around the thing seemed to shimmer, as if reality bent around it.

Velma tried to move.

She couldn't.

She opened her mouth to scream—no sound.

A voice, dry and rasping, whispered close to her ear though nothing moved.

"Why did you come here…?"

Her heart pounded. She tried to shut her eyes, to look away, but the red gaze burned into her. The voice came again, colder, closer.

"How dare you… enter this place?"

She began to feel dizzy. A cold pressure pressed against her chest, as if the air itself rejected her presence. Her vision swam. The room tilted.

And then—

She woke.

With a sharp gasp, Velma bolted upright in bed, drenched in sweat, chest rising and falling in rapid bursts. The room was just as they'd left it—dim and warm, quiet, the scent of candles still clinging to the air. The horns and red eyes were gone. Only the sound of rain tapping gently at the window remained.

Beside her, Daniel stirred.

"Velma?" he said sleepily, sitting up. His hand reached for hers. "What happened?"

She looked at him, trying to steady her breath. She opened her mouth, then shook her head. "Just… a bad dream."

Daniel pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

"It's okay. It's just your mind catching up with everything. It's been a big day." His voice was calm, grounding. "You're safe. You're home."

She nodded slowly, still shaken. She didn't tell him about the red eyes. Or the voice.

Daniel held her for a few minutes longer until her body relaxed again.

"I'm going to freshen up," he said gently. "Breakfast should be ready soon."

Velma watched him walk into the washroom and close the door behind him. The sound of the shower turning on hummed softly from inside.

She stood, slowly, and crossed to the window. The sky was grey with early morning light. The dream clung to her like a shadow, heavy and unwanted.

Downstairs, the scent of warm bread and seasoned eggs drifted from the kitchen. She descended slowly, dressed in a silk robe, her steps soft on the wooden staircase. The dining table was already set—two plates, two glasses, silver cutlery aligned neatly. Everything was perfect.

Mrs. Williams stood nearby, wiping her hands on a clean towel. She turned when Velma entered.

"Good morning, ma'am. I hope you slept well?"

Velma forced a polite smile. "I did… mostly. Thank you."

"Breakfast is ready," Mrs. Williams said, gesturing to the table. "I imagine you'll want to eat together, so I've kept the eggs warm."

Velma nodded and moved toward a chair. "Yes, I'm just waiting for Daniel to come down."

There was a brief silence as Mrs. Williams adjusted something on the table, then paused. Her tone shifted, just slightly.

"May I ask you something, Velma?"

Velma looked up. "Of course."

"Do you know everything about Daniel?"

Velma smiled faintly, though the question caught her off guard. "Yes, I believe I do. I know about his company, how he started with nothing, how hard he worked. I know he doesn't like bitter food, that he reads before bed, and that he prefers calm over crowds." She gave a small laugh. "And I know he loves me."

Mrs. Williams looked at her carefully. "And that's all you know?"

Velma paused, her smile faltering. "Why do you ask? Is there something else to know?"

The older woman said nothing. She looked down at the cloth in her hands and folded it slowly, deliberately, before placing it on the side table.

"Enjoy your breakfast," she said gently, and turned to leave the room.

Velma watched her go, confusion twisting in her chest. The light in the room suddenly felt different—softer, but heavier somehow.

What did she mean?

Velma stood from her chair and paced slowly toward the window, arms folded. Her dream came rushing back—those red eyes, the horns, the words.

Why did you come here?

How dare you?

Her heart quickened.

Just then, footsteps echoed from the stairs. She turned to see Daniel descending, dressed in a crisp navy polo and grey trousers, hair damp and freshly combed. He looked so calm, so sure—exactly the man she married.

"Smells good down here," he said with a smile.

Velma returned the smile, but her mind was still wrapped around Mrs. Williams' question. She sat as he joined her, watching him pour a glass of juice.

"I hope you're hungry," she said softly.

"Starving." He leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Ready for our first day of forever?"

She nodded slowly, but in the back of her mind, something shifted.

Because now, a part of her wasn't sure.