CHAPTER TWO: The Phantom Knows Her Name 

"The mask hides not only my face but also the pain within."

 (~Annie Flame~)

CHAPTER TWO: The Phantom Knows Her Name 

Elara dreamed of a man's voice calling her name.

Not a desperate kind of voice neither loving.

Just… certain.

Like she always assumed that she would come here.

"Elara," he said, from somewhere behind the velvet curtains. "You're late."

Then the touch.

 Cold fingertips brushing her wrist in the dark —

 and the sudden overwhelming feeling that was telling her she has known him before.

She woke up startled awake in the cold master bedroom,with tears falling down from her eyes, she quickly wiped them. She had no idea who it was or what was happening to her.

The room was colder than it should've been.

The window hadn't been left open, but the air pressed against her skin as if fog made of fingers.

The rain outside still hadn't stopped.

The mirror across from her bed — the one she had covered before going to bed — had its sheet on the floor.

 "Why is the sheet that was covering the mirror across the room on the floor...once again?"

 She questioned herself. It wasn't like it was the first time it had happened, but it was the 4th time this had happened to her.

She didn't move for a full minute. Just sat there, watching the breath leave her mouth in visible puffs like a winter storm had slidded in during the night and curled up alongside her. 

And then she saw something.

Something clumsily written on the mirror:

"Don't abandon me again."

There was no explanation, no sign of who could it be.

 Just a demand written like a ghost story.

Elara sat there with stiff body, without even moving a inch just at the mirror, her body tensed beneath the quilt like she was waiting for her to find something meaningful.

Instead, a single drip of moisture rolled down the glass, smearing the me in "Don't forget me" until it appears as more like:

"Don't forget."

She blinked.

 When she opened her eyes again, the message was gone.

Elara blinked fastly.

Was it sleep paralysis?,Stress hallucination?Or just a nightmare?

What was even that?

She picked up the sheet of the mirror from the floor, her hands were trembling just enough to make her clumsy.

"This is stress," she said to herself. "This is just stress."

 Then she went downstairs.

Downstairs, everything was too silent.

 The kind of silence that made the grandfather clock ringing too loudly as if it was counting down the secrets she was not informed about.

She walked towards the kitchen and made coffee while shaking hands.

And she nearly dropped the cup when she saw a black rose placed on the windowsill. She picked it up and tossed it into the dustbin.

 "Who even placed it?" She murmured. And the fact she loved black roses but she never told it to anyone. Anyways, she didn't pay much attention to it.

Yet the words continued to dance before her eyes as if they knew she wasn't really focused on them. Her gaze kept drifting to the shadows between pieces of furniture, convinced they were darker than they needed to be. That the corners of the room weren't just merely dark—they had presence that were keeping eyes all the time.

When the kettle whistled again once more which made her realize she never drank her tea.

 The cup had become cold.

 So did her hands.

The house was constantly, giving excuses reminding its presence.

She found footprints on the stairs that weren't hers.

 Barefoot and dusty. Leading up to the attic. She followed them.

She discovered her own journal open on the bedroom floor. What was it even doing here? 

 She hadn't touched it in days.

 As long as she remembered she placed it in her bedroom cuboid somewhere.

She picked it up and checked it.

 The last page was blank—until it wasn't.

In her handwriting (though shakier) someone had written:

"You knew me once. You have to know me again."

She closed the book abruptly. Did someone write it without her permission? Or was she the one who wrote them unknowingly.

_______

By the fourth night, her mind was a cage with mirrors for bars.

She dreamed of a candlelit ballroom crowded with shadows. She was wearing a silk gown, soaked at the hem in something thicker than wine. A man's hand pressed against her lower back as they danced in slow, flawless circles. She wasn't able to see his face, but somehow—way down her chest—she recognized him.

The music stopped.

 He leaned down to whisper:

"You always try to run away and I always find you. Is running your new hobby?"

She woke up with a bitter taste on her tongue.

The next day, she was cleaning up when she found a diary hidden behind a loose brick in the library wall. It had the smell of dust and rosewater. Its has a worn out black leather, had a single name in gold leaf:

Elara Greaves, 1860

Same name. Same spelling.

She opened it, pulse pounding in her ears.

Born on March 12th, 1860. 

 Even with the same date of birth, the only difference was the year she was born in.

Elara started reading her diary.

February 27th, 1878

I saw him for the first time. God he's the most attractive man I've seen. Even though he's also noble and he's an illegitimate child my parents told me to stay away from him. They told me he's dirty blood. I don't understand why he's blamed for being illegitimate. It's not even his fault, like he didn't ask for it. Shouldn't his parents be the one at blame for adultery? But I just nodded. I wasn't allowed to defy my father.

March 5th

I went to a ballroom today and I can't believe I saw him again today, sitting alone in the back garden. He always had such a cold expression but why today he looks so sad. I was planning to leave from there without him letting me notice me. But then I saw his hand.His hand was bleeding. And he didn't even seem to care about it? Did he have a fight with someone? God I know I should listen to my parents but I couldn't leave like this.I looked around and no one was there it looked like we're alone. 

"You can come out. I can see you." He said. 

I almost choked. Was I busted so easily? I revealed myself coming out from behind the wall.

"Uhmm, I was just passing by." I tried making excuses and something embarrassing occurred. I stepped on my own dress and fell in front of him, flat on my face, Oh god I'm not getting up. I tried to bury my face in the grass out of embarrassment. I thought he'll make fun of me. But suddenly I hear a sound of laughter. He was laughing at the trip. I lifted my head a little up and wow he was really laughing so hard. 

Of course he was now getting on my nerves too but it seemed like he was sad like he was a moment before. He came near me offering a hand of help

I said "no thank you" and got up quickly." Another foolish mistake. Rejecting someone's help so rudely.

"Are you fine?" I could still see him holding his laughter.

"Of course I'm fine. Who do you think I'm? I'm not just some fragile younger lady. I'm perfectly fine. See?"

He smiled before going serious again. "By any chance, you didn't accept my help because you also think I'm dirty like others?"

I said"No! That's not it."

He continued, "No I can understand it's better for you if you stay away fr--."

I interrupted him shouting"Are you deaf? Can't you hear what I'm saying?"

He was left speechless.

I was really annoyed how he's just saying whatever he want. Just how lowly he think he is? I continued,"Do you think I'm lying? My words are of no importance? I'm just talking nonsense like a grandma? See me in the eyes!"

I unintentionally grabbed him from his collar pulling him closer making him look in my eyes.

"Do I look like I care if you're dirty blooded or not? Have you got no self respect? Spouting whatever nonsense is coming in your mouth."

He just stood there surprised yet somehow impressed.

I realized what I've done. I immediately let go of his collar, covering my mouth with my hands. "Oh umm.. S-sorry!"

But instead of getting angry at me he was smiling. 

Omg his smile was out of this world. Did he even know how to smile?

"No, no I should be the one saying sorry. Haha.." He laughed once again. "Really such a bold girl. I've never heard someone saying such bold words directly to me."

My face turned red from embarrassment, my brain.

Back to present

It looks like a love story. Elara kept turning pages, reading the diary further.

March 13th

We met again, this time we talked more. Even exchanged name and some personal things

March 25th

We have gotten quite close.

April 17th

I started having feelings for him

June 6th

He confessed his love for me. And we started dating and having more secret meetings. No one knew about it. 

June 18th

He came to see me again tonight. I was frightened at first. But now… now I find myself waiting to hear his footsteps. Even when I know I shouldn't.

There is danger in loving what doesn't belong to this world. Yet my heart has never followed the laws of the living.

July 1st

My personal maid Abrish found it out. But she promised to keep it a secret.

15th of july

I never knew he was such a sweetheart. He has fixed his mind to only love me and marry me. Even though he knows our parents won't approve of our marriage, he still tries for me.

He's not allowed to approach me but he still leaves a black rose everyday on the window

Elara dropped the book like it had burned her. "Black rose?", she gasped. Aren't there too many coincidences?

October 3rd

My parents found out.

"Her parents found it out?",Elara turned the page but there was nothing written further.

Elara felt uneasy. Her mind telling her to run away and she tried listening to it. She put the diary back again.

She attempted to leave from there immediately.

She quickly packed her stuff. Grabbed her car keys.Walked down the long gravel driveway with her heart in her throat.

But the road seemed longer. Completely wrong.

"This isn't the way I came from?"

The trees were unfamiliar.

 The same crow followed her the entire walk.

 And when she finally arrived the gate…

 What?She was back at the front steps again?

Like the house had shifted the world around her.

After a few more attempts of escaping she gave up.

_________

That night, she broke.

Standing in front of the cracked vanity, she whispered his name like a confession.

"Lazareth."

She had no idea where it came from.

 The name just… surfaced.

 As if it had been waiting.

The mirror cracked down the middle with a sound like a snapping bone.

Every candle in the room flared high and blew out, all at once.

She stood there in the dark, trembling, still not ready to admit what she already knew:

This wasn't her imagination.

 This wasn't trauma.

This house had teeth. Ready to chew her.

It had been waiting for her all along.

________

Later, she discovered a portrait.

Hidden behind a curtain. Tall. Oil on canvas.

A man in black — broad-shouldered, pale-skinned, face sharp as a blade. His eyes were the kind that knew things. Not just secrets, but you.

The plaque below stated:

Lazareth Valemont, 1861

Lord of the Hollow Estate.

Her breath 

She didn't recognize him. How would she when she has never met him?

But her hands were still trembling anyway. 

Is't it the same year as the girl from that diary? And wasn't that anonymous aunt of mine, the owner of this mansion? Is he the previous owner? But why is his belongings here? Elara had thousands of questions yet no one to answer them.

Then suddenly something cold brushed against her neck.

She turned around to look.

But no one was there.

But in the dust on the wall next to her —

four fingerprints.Trailing down.As if someone had touched her.

__________________________________

To be continued....