Lucy watched the little girl die twice.
Once in the newspaper photograph.
And again—right in front of her eyes.
The flames devoured the girl's small body in silence. No scream. No final cry. Just the slow, merciless licking of fire along fragile limbs until only smoke and drifting ash remained. The air smelled bitter and wrong, like burnt paper mixed with sorrow.
Lucy's mouth stood open, but no sound came out.
Her knees buckled, yet she did not fall. It was as if something inside her had locked her body in place—a cruel kindness that spared her from collapsing while also condemning her to watch.
Tear after tear spilled from her eyes without her noticing.
Merlin stood behind her, frozen in horror.
"Lucy…?" His voice shook. "This isn't real. This can't be real."
But the ashes floating in the air were real.
The smell was real.
The silence—so heavy it crushed the chest—was real.
Then the house laughed.
Not one voice.
Many.
Thin, broken giggles crawled out of the walls, slid through the ceiling, seeped under the floorboards. Laughter slithered through the room like living smoke, curling around Lucy's ears, scratching at her mind.
"Ha… ha… ha…"
The air turned ice-cold.
Lucy shuddered as terror finally reached her bones.
The walls began to tremble.
Picture frames rattled. The floor quaked. The ceiling groaned as if something enormous were crawling above it. The single lightbulb flickered wildly.
Merlin grabbed Lucy's wrist.
"We're leaving. Now."
He dragged her toward the front door.
But when he twisted the handle—
It did not move.
He tried again. Harder.
Nothing.
He slammed his shoulder against it.
The door did not even shake.
Lucy's breathing grew shallow.
"M-Merlin…?"
Suddenly—
POP!
One lightbulb exploded.
Glass rained across the floor.
Darkness swallowed half the room.
Then another bulb burst.
And another.
Each explosion echoed like a gunshot.
Until—
Blackness consumed everything.
Only one thing still glowed.
The bonfire burning in the small pit near the fireplace flared unnaturally bright, its flames turning blue-white instead of orange. Shadows stretched across the walls like clawed hands.
Merlin pulled Lucy behind him instinctively.
The laughter grew louder.
Closer.
From behind the walls.
From beneath the floor.
From inside the air.
Then—
A violent gust of wind slammed into the house.
Furniture flew.
Plates shattered.
The table flipped.
Merlin was thrown across the room like a rag doll, crashing into the wall before collapsing beneath a fallen table, stunned and gasping.
"MERLIN!"
Lucy tried to reach him.
But she couldn't move.
Her feet were glued to the floor.
The temperature dropped so sharply her breath became mist.
Then—
A whisper brushed her ear.
"Take me to the forest…"
Lucy spun around.
Nothing.
"Take me…"
The voice was soft.
A child's voice.
"Take… me…"
Lucy's eyes widened.
Her heart nearly stopped.
Slowly—
Too slowly—
Footsteps sounded behind her.
Tiny.
Bare.
Wet.
Step…
Step…
Lucy dared to look.
The little girl stood there.
Or what was left of her.
Her skin was pale as corpse wax, her eyes empty black hollows leaking dark mist. Burn marks crawled across her cheeks like living scars. Half her hair was missing, replaced by charred flesh.
Yet she smiled.
"Take me to the forest," the girl whispered again.
Lucy staggered backward.
"I… I tried… I did…" Lucy sobbed. "I tried to help you."
The girl tilted her head unnaturally far to one side.
"You promised."
Lucy's back hit the wall.
The bonfire roared louder.
The walls cracked.
And then—
More voices joined in.
"TAKE US…"
"TAKE US TO THE FOREST…"
"TAKE US…"
Whispers became screams.
Screams became wails.
Shadows peeled themselves off the walls.
Dozens of pale children's shapes emerged from the darkness, faceless and twisted, crawling across the ceiling, standing in doorways, clustering behind the corpse-girl.
Lucy covered her ears.
"STOP… PLEASE…"
They did not.
The bonfire flared violently.
The spirits advanced.
The little girl reached for Lucy.
Her fingers were blackened bone.
Lucy screamed.
And something inside her—
answered.
A burning pain exploded through Lucy's right palm.
She cried out, clutching it—but when she pulled her hand away—
Pale blue light poured from her skin.
Symbols ignited across her palm like burning ink, twisting and reshaping into an unfamiliar mark—half claw, half crescent moon.
The light intensified.
Blinding.
Pure.
A beam of moonlight descended from nowhere, crashing through the shattered ceiling like divine judgment.
The house lit up in silver.
The wind stopped.
The laughter died.
The spirits froze.
Then—
They burned.
Not with fire.
With light.
Blue-white flames wrapped around the wailing forms, devouring them from the inside out. Their screams were not human—no sound Lucy had ever heard before.
The little girl screamed too.
Not in anger.
In relief.
Her burned face softened.
Her empty eyes filled with tears.
"You kept your promise…" she whispered.
Her body began dissolving into glowing dust.
The fire around her did not hurt.
It purified.
"Now… please…" she said gently.
"Let me meet my mother…"
Lucy collapsed to her knees, sobbing.
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"
The girl smiled one final time—
And became light.
The spirits vanished.
The bonfire dimmed.
The house went silent.
Then—
In the distance—
A single howl echoed through the night.
Long.
Deep.
Mournful.
A sound that pierced the soul.
Lucy looked up.
Moonlight spilled through the broken roof.
Outside the window—
Beneath an ancient tree—
Stood a man.
Tall.
Drenched in moonlight.
Long white hair swayed gently with a wind that did not touch anything else.
His eyes were blue.
Not human blue.
Moonlit blue.
Glowing.
Watching Lucy with an expression she could not understand.
Pain.
Regret.
Protection.
"You are safe," a voice whispered inside her head.
Not from the air.
From her heart.
Lucy gasped.
Her chest ached.
The man raised his hand slightly.
Not in threat.
In farewell.
Then—
The shadows swallowed him.
The moon dimmed.
And he disappeared.
The house returned to normal.
Cold.
Broken.
Silent.
Merlin crawled out from beneath the table.
"Lucy…?" He whispered urgently. "Lucy!"
She turned to him, trembling.
"I saw him…" she breathed.
"The wolf… the man… the one from my dreams…"
Merlin stared at the ruined room.
Burn marks without fire.
Glass melted by something not heat.
Air that smelled like rain and lightning.
"He protected you…" Merlin said quietly.
Lucy hugged herself.
Tears kept falling.
"He said… he protected me… again…"
Outside—
The wolves howled.
Not in attack.
In mourning.
Somewhere deep in the Evergreen Forest—
A broken god cried alone under the moon.
And Lucy finally understood one thing:
This was not over.
It had only begun. suggest title for this