By the edge of a serene lake, a magnificent mansion rose proudly, its marble walls catching the moonlight and shimmering like silver glass. Gentle ripples on the water reflected the towering structure—three stories tall, lined with grand windows shaped like arching crescents. Soft lanterns glowed along the balconies, giving the entire estate a dreamlike warmth against the midnight sky.
I stood on the balcony of my room, breathing in the cool air.
From here, I could see the manicured gardens stretched like a green tapestry, dotted with white statues and blooming lilies that swayed gently in the breeze. The distant echo of laughter and music drifted up from the hall below.
This might be the best day of my life.
"Arthur, where are you?" a voice called from outside my door, muffled yet warm.
"Coming, Mother."
I opened the door, and there she was—radiant as always. Her long silver-blue gown shimmered with every movement, and the chandelier light behind her made her look almost ethereal. She smiled at me, her eyes soft and full of pride.
"What are you doing alone in your room? It's your birthday party. Come down, everyone is waiting."
"I was just getting ready. I'm done now. Let's go."
We walked downstairs together, descending the wide staircase with carved railings polished so smooth they reflected our silhouettes.
The hall below stretched grandly, its high ceiling adorned with crystal chandeliers that cast golden light over the guests. Servants moved gracefully through the room with trays of drinks, and laughter blended with elegant piano music.
My father, a well-known businessman, stood near the center—confident, composed—shaking hands and meeting eyes with the ease of someone born to command a room.
My elder and younger brothers were already surrounded by their friends, lively, loud, and laughing without restraint. They fit here naturally.
Seeing everyone so lively and joyful made my heart feel light.
I hope it always stays like this.
"Attention, everyone!" my father announced from the small stage the servants had set up. His voice echoed warmly through the hall. "Today is my second son's sixteenth birthday. Thank you all for coming. We'll cut the cake in a few minutes—please enjoy yourselves."
Polite applause followed, and the room burst back into lively chatter.
Mother nudged me gently forward, encouraging me to greet the guests.
After a while, overwhelmed, I managed to slip away and found my friends near the balcony doors.
"Happy birthday, Arthur!" they chimed one by one.
"Thanks," I replied with a grin.
"Don't forget about our special party tomorrow," Tedd reminded me, wagging a finger teasingly.
"Yeah, we're counting on you," Rachel added, her eyes bright.
"Don't worry. We'll have a blast," I said, feeling lighter.
Then my elder brother called me over to introduce me to his friends. A few minutes later, my younger brother dragged me to another group. Everyone wished me well, and though I was shy, I appreciated every gesture.
Eventually, it was time to cut the cake.
Everyone gathered around the center of the hall, the lights dimming just slightly as a servant lit the candles. I gave a small speech—awkward and short, because public speaking was never my strong point. Still, people laughed gently, clapped warmly, and the night continued with music and joy.
---
2:30 AM
"The party's over. Thank you for coming!" Father's voice carried as he escorted the final guests out the grand entrance.
I exhaled deeply as the door closed.
Finally, I can rest.
Because of my parents, I had to greet so many people tonight. I really hated socializing… but Father always said it was important if I was going to join the family business someday.
Whatever. I'm exhausted.
The mansion grew quiet—eerily quiet. The decorations still glittered under the dimmed chandeliers, but without the people, the hall felt like a hollow shell of its earlier warmth.
---
Thud… Thud… Thud…
"Huh…?"
I blinked awake in my bed.
The clock beside me glowed faintly:
4:00 AM
"What is that sound…? Who's awake at this hour?"
Still half-asleep, I rubbed my eyes and walked toward the door. The corridor outside was dark, with only the soft moonlight filtering through the hall windows.
I opened the door—
A bloody hand lunged forward.
"Ah—!"
It clamped over my mouth.
"Shhh… Young Master. It's me, Charlie," a strained whisper breathed against my ear. "Don't make a sound. Come with me."
Charlie—the steward who handled most of Father's affairs.
But his face was pale. His uniform was torn.
And he was covered in blood.
My heart dropped.
Is he betraying us…?
Is he kidnapping me!?
He dragged me down the corridor, his grip iron-strong despite his wounds. My bare feet slipped against the polished marble tiles as I struggled, panic rising in my throat.
My eyes darted wildly, searching for Father, Mother—anyone.
Then I froze.
There, on the grand staircase…
A trail of blood.
Thick. Smeared. Leading downward into the dark.