In a small mansion
stood a grand estate
the home of the Wilson family,
the mayor of this quiet town.
Lillian Wilson,
granddaughter of the mayor,
was a well-thought-of woman, known for her grace and respect wherever she went.
Her brunette hair always reminded her of her mother,
who had passed away
when Lillian was still young.
lost at sea with her father on a sunken ship.
From the small window of her room,
lit by a single candle,
the shadow of her figure painted the walls.
She sat at her wooden desk,
books stacked around her.
Most of them written by one name: Robert Sterling.
The candle flickered gently nearby.
One book sat by her hands.
"The Secret of the Beast."
Gently, she turned the page.
She read aloud, softly.
"The Secret of the Beast was an old tale.
A myth told to children.
The Beast doesn't kill for pleasure,
but with motive.
They kill at night... and vanish with the dark."
Long ago, in this very place...
humans once lived in harmony with a strange creature.
intelligent and quick to learn.
But one unfortunate night,
they devoured a human child.
A newborn baby.
And with that, the village lost its trust.
They burned all of them.
Erased every trace.
Until now, none remain.
No one survived to tell the tale.
But the rumors linger.
Some say the Beast looked like a bear... or a wolf.
Others claim it could take the shape of a human.
Or... a monster.
"And now... I saw it.
It's standing there. Studying my every move.
It took the shape of a black cat.
slightly larger than normal. With glowing eyes..."
She flipped through the pages,
until her eyes locked on one strange line.
"The beast killed my whole family, including me.
It just wanted to be me."
She blinked.
"What...? Why is this story going from detailed... to nonsense?"
She closed the book.
"I need to see Robert," she whispered.
"He couldn't have ended it like this..."
She blew out the candle and drifted into sleep.
The Next Morning
As the sun rose, the town awakened.
Birds sang softly outside the windows.
"Good morning, Grandpapa," she greeted.
Bread and jam were already on the table, served by the helpers.
"Have a seat, Lillian," he said warmly. Adjusting his wheelchair.
She sat, her dress flowing softly against the ornate chair.
After a pause, she spoke.
"Grandpapa... today I'll visit Robert. I need to ask him about his book.
I still don't like how he ended it... it doesn't make sense to me."
Her grandfather looked at her fondly.
"Oh, that fairytale you were talking about?"
He laughed.
"Or do you simply want a reason to see him?"
He teased.
Lillian chuckled shyly.
"No, Grandpapa... it's for the book."
He nodded, though clearly in denial.
"But remember—come back before dark."
She nodded obediently.
"Understood, Grandpapa. I shall return before sundown."
After breakfast, she tucked a few pieces of bread into a small basket,
covered with a cloth napkin.
She waved to her grandfather,
then walked out, the book pressed tightly to her chest.
Outside
The scent of flowers filled the air.
Colorful, vibrant petals scattered across the land.
A man in a black suit stood by the carriage, waiting.
Mikael, her loyal butler.
He bowed.
"Where shall I take you today, my lady?"
"To the library. Robert's place," she replied.
And so they traveled.
From her mansion, through winding roads,
a cobblestone path leading into the village,
surrounded by tall trees and soft sunlight.
Along the way, her eyes kept drifting toward the window.
Toward the distance.
Maybe toward her future...
Where lights glowed in a ballroom.
Music played.
And someone waited for her in the dark.
She hugged the book tightly to her chest.
Not because she loved the story.
but because of the man behind the words.
Robert's Library
The carriage came to a slow stop.
Mikael stepped down first and opened the door.
"We have arrived, my lady,"
he said, gently offering his hand.
Lillian stepped down, lifting her skirt slightly.
The village was full and lively.
Villagers bustled about with baskets of bread and bundles of herbs.
Many greeted her with bows, smiles, and warm welcomes.
She returned their kindness with polite nods.
though her smile never quite reached her eyes.
They reached Robert's Library.
The wooden door stood just as she remembered.
A dark green roof.
A small bell hanging to the side.
A signboard that read:
Welcome to Robert's Library
And the table on the porch...
Where they used to sip tea.
Where they exchanged stories.
Where they laughed.
Where they confessed their love for the first time.
Just looking at it made her smile.
She knocked gently.
then slowly opened the door and stepped inside.
The soft chime of the bell rang behind her.
"Hello... Robert?"
The place was a little messy.
In fact... messier than usual.
Books weren't just scattered.
they were flung about.
The scent of dampness and old paper lingered in the air,
like something had gone sour.
Not lived in, searched.
She blinked.
"Robert? Are you home?"
She called again, her voice quieter now.
She stepped farther inside,
then opened a window to let the light in.
Suddenly.
a loud thud from upstairs.
She looked up, startled. Her breath caught.
"Robert? Is that you?"
Her voice trembled.
The atmosphere inside the library sent a chill up her spine.
Something was off.
Something wrong.
Then,
a man stepped down from the second floor.
Messy hair. Golden eyes.
Dark circles beneath them.
His white shirt wrinkled, the collar half-unbuttoned.
His steps were slow, heavy.
From where she stood...
he looked taller. Broader.
Almost unrecognizable.
He looked...
exhausted.
Lillian froze in place.
Staring.
"Robert... is that you?" she asked, her brows furrowing,
both hands clutching her basket tight.
His golden eyes met hers.
and for a moment,
he studied her face
far too long.
Too deeply.
"Robert?" she asked again,
her voice barely above a whisper.
Then.
he stepped closer.