The night was pitch black, and the rain fell in a wild, merciless storm.
Deep within the forest, raindrops mixed with mud, turning the ground into a slippery trap.
Each passing second made the darkness heavier, the air thicker.
The storm raged—wind howled, thunder cracked, and lightning tore the sky apart with flashes so fierce they shook the ground.
The roar of thunder sounded like mountains splitting open, and the groaning of trees swaying violently in the wind filled the air with a haunting echo.
The wind was so strong it bent the trees until their branches collided, creating a dreadful sound that made her heart pound. Cold rain lashed her face, the wind whipped through her hair, and every gust made her body tremble harder.
She was running—through the thick, endless forest, where every path looked the same, the ground slick with mud beneath her feet. Her breaths came sharp and uneven, but she didn't stop. It felt like something unseen, something monstrous, was chasing her.
Her lungs burned, her chest ached, but still she ran.
Then—lightning struck again.
For one fleeting moment, the forest came alive with white fire.
She froze.
Her eyes widened, her breath caught in her throat.
Terror swept through her veins like ice.
And in that flash of light, she saw him.
A figure, tall and broad-shouldered, cloaked entirely in black.
Rain poured over him, yet he stood unmoving—his presence colder than the storm itself.
Even from a distance, she could feel his gaze—a piercing, inhuman calm.
She took a trembling step back.
He began to move toward her.
Each of his steps was slow… deliberate… inevitable.
The storm howled around them, trees swaying, shadows twisting in the wind.
Her knees weakened.
And then she turned and ran.
Rain struck her white dress, and her red hair streamed behind her like fire against the storm. She ran without direction, blinded by fear.
But suddenly, her foot caught on a sharp rock—and she fell, face-first into the cold, wet earth. Mud splashed, the forest echoed with the sound of pain as she cried out.
Her palms scraped raw, her knees bled, and before she could rise, a hand clamped around her arm.
The grip was iron.
She screamed.
"No! Let me go!"
Her voice was lost in the thunder.
Tears streamed from her lavender eyes, mingling with the rain on her face.
"Please—don't! Let me go!"
She struggled, sobbing, but the man in black said nothing.
His silence was heavier than the storm.
He lifted her easily, as if she weighed nothing,
and carried her through the rain.
Branches whipped past, shadows swallowed them whole, until the trees parted— and there, in the distance, stood a dark, decaying mansion.
The old structure loomed like a wound in the forest. Its walls were covered in moss, its iron doors corroded with rust.
A dim yellow light flickered from within, as though the house itself breathed despair.
The door creaked open with a scream of metal.
He took her inside, dragged her to the cold stone floor, and locked heavy iron cuffs around her wrists.
The chains clinked, and his voice finally broke the silence—low, deep, and merciless.
"Now you're mine… butterfly."
She screamed—and woke up.
Her body jolted upright.
Sweat drenched her skin, her heart racing wildly in her chest.
For a moment, she couldn't breathe.
The darkness around her was thick and still, but it felt too real—too close.
Her hands shook as she reached for the glass of water beside the bed, lifting it to her lips with trembling fingers.
"Nothing happened…" she whispered between uneven breaths.
"It was just a dream."
Her voice trembled.
But her body wouldn't stop shaking.
Her heart still beat like a drum inside her chest.
The window was open.
Moonlight poured in, and the cold night breeze brushed against her face.
The white curtains fluttered gently, moving like ghosts in the silver light.
She rose slowly, her bare feet cold against the floor, and walked to the window.
Pulling it closed, she exhaled softly, then sank down onto the floor beneath it.
Her hands were still trembling.
Her breaths came uneven, and as she looked down, a single tear slipped from her lavender eyes.
It slid down her cheek, fell soundlessly onto the floor, and vanished—like a memory never meant to be remembered.