The mansion felt suffocating that night.
Loraine sat by the window, the moonlight barely brushing her face, thinking. Thinking, planning, hoping. Every shadow outside the room was a reminder that freedom wasn't just desired—it was necessary.
The Escape Plan
She had memorized every hallway, every door, every routine of the guards. Tonight, she would test her knowledge.
The main gate had a small blind spot.
The side corridors had cameras—but they looped their feed every thirty minutes.
Jason rarely patrolled the western wing during storms like this.
If she moved carefully, she might slip out.
Her heart raced, but determination steadied her. She packed a small bag and slipped quietly into the hallway.
The Storm Within Jason
Jason had been unusually quiet all evening.
Until he appeared behind her, as always, without warning.
"You're moving," he said softly, almost a whisper, but his tone was ice.
Loraine froze. Her pulse hammered.
"I… just… stretching," she whispered.
He didn't move closer, didn't yell—but the red glow in his eyes made the air feel electric.
"You're planning something," he said. "I can feel it. Don't test me."
The Chase
She bolted.
Down the hallway, across the grand foyer, through the servants' corridors.
Jason followed—not fast at first, almost calculating—but then his speed shifted, a blur, unstoppable.
"Loraine! Stop!" His voice cracked with desperation. "Do not do this!"
Tears burned her eyes. She didn't stop. She had to survive.
The Trap
As she reached the side gate, she felt a hand clamp on her arm.
Her body froze.
Jason stood there, eyes blazing, voice low but fierce:
"You promised. Do you remember your promise?"
She shook her head, trying to wrench herself free.
"I… I just needed… air," she stammered.
He laughed—bitter, hollow, broken.
"You think freedom is yours? You think you can leave me?"
A Glimpse of His Past
Before she could respond, a shadow moved in the moonlight.
"Jason," a voice called—sharp, familiar, almost dangerous.
From the darkness stepped a woman. Tall, elegant, carrying herself with a confidence that rivaled his. Loraine's heart froze—this was someone from his past.
The two exchanged words too low for her to catch, but the tension was palpable.
Jason's jaw tightened. His grip on Loraine's arm didn't weaken.
"You know her?" she whispered, fear creeping into her chest.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, his eyes softened slightly—just for a fraction of a second.
Then the red flare returned.
"Stay close," he said, voice like ice and fire mixed. "No matter what."
Back Inside
He dragged her back into the mansion, his hands firm but careful.
"You will not leave me," he said, voice shaking with rage and desperation. "I've survived hell… and I won't survive losing you."
Loraine, trembling, realized something terrifying: he wasn't just controlling her now—he was reacting to shadows from his past, making him even more unpredictable.
Aftermath
Hours later, they were in the study. The storm outside mirrored the chaos inside.
Jason sat across from her, trembling, head in his hands.
"I—" he began, voice raw. "I won't lose you. I won't let anyone take you… ever. Not her, not anyone."
She stared at him, heart pounding. Fear, confusion, and a strange understanding mixing together.
Jason, even in rage and obsession, was entirely consumed by her.
And Loraine realized—this wasn't just a battle for freedom. It was a battle for both of their souls.
Questions That Burn
Can Loraine survive in a house ruled by fear, obsession, and secrets from the past?
Will Jason's unresolved past destroy everything—or drive him deeper into her life?
And when the world outside clashes with the shadows within, who will remain standing?