Chapter 5 - Shattered Glass Above
The scream tore through the quiet gothic architecture of the Blackwood estate, vibrating in the glass panes of the high windows. Marisa abandoned the letter on the floor, her maternal instincts overriding her paralyzing fear as she sprinted toward the grand staircase.
Upstairs, the heavy oak doors of the master suite stood slightly ajar. Warm amber light spilled out onto the dark runner carpet, illuminating a trail of spilled red wine that dripped like fresh blood down the steps. Marisa reached the landing, her breath coming in ragged gasps, and pushed the heavy door wide open.
Eleanor was backed into the far corner of the expansive bedroom, her white strapless wedding gown torn at the hem, smeared with dirt and streaks of soot. Her long wavy blonde hair was wild and tangled, framing a face twisted in absolute, unadulterated terror. She was staring fixedly at the massive, floor-to-ceiling bay window that overlooked the overgrown estate gardens.
Julian stood a few feet away, his suit jacket discarded, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his forearms. His expression was not one of shock, but of cold, calculating fury. He held a heavy fireplace poker in his right hand, the tip blackened and dented.
"Julian! Get it away from me! Get it away!" Eleanor shrieked, pointing a shaking finger toward the shattered glass of the balcony doors. The wind was howling in from the outside, whipping the heavy velvet curtains into a frenzy and scattering wedding gifts across the hardwood floor.
Marisa rushed into the room, scanning the chaotic scene. "What happened? Is Valentina safe?"
"Forget the child!" Eleanor screamed hysterically, her eyes wild as she clutched her torn bodice. "Look at the window! Something was out there! It was watching us! It was tapping on the glass with fingernails like claws!"
Julian walked slowly toward the shattered doors, stepping over fragments of broken safety glass that crunched beneath his polished shoes. He stepped out onto the freezing stone balcony, scanning the dark, misty expanse of the gardens below. The sprawling lawns were completely empty, save for the twisted iron gates of the courtyard gate swaying in the midnight wind.
"There is nothing out there, Eleanor," Julian said loudly, his voice cutting through the howling gale. "You are letting your hysterical paranoia ruin our wedding night."
"I am not crazy!" Eleanor sobbed, sliding down the wallpapered wall until she sat in a crumpled heap of white silk and tulle. "I saw her face! It was her! The girl from the fire! She was wearing the wedding veil, Julian! Your first bride’s veil!"
Julian froze. His back was turned to the room, his broad shoulders stiffening instantly under the crisp white fabric of his shirt. He did not turn around to comfort his weeping bride. Instead, he gripped the stone balustrade so hard his knuckles turned completely white.
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Marisa watched from the doorway, her blood freezing in her veins as she remembered the letter lying abandoned in the hallway downstairs. The wedding veil is made of ash.
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