The night had not ended, yet Belle felt as though centuries passed within a single breath. She stood frozen, the darkness of the locked room swallowing her whole. Only the faint glow of the mirror illuminated Thomas's figure—his eyes burning like twin embers in the void.
Her throat tightened, her voice barely a whisper.
"Thomas… what do you mean? A curse?"
His gaze pierced through her.
"Yes, Belle. A curse older than this house, older than your bloodline. I wasn't always like this… I was once a man—flesh, blood, and breath—like the world you live in now."
Belle's heart pounded violently. "Then… how did you become this?"
Thomas's lips curved in a sorrowful smile, his voice drenched with pain.
"I loved once. Too deeply. Too blindly. That love betrayed me… and in my rage, I defied God Himself. My punishment was eternity—trapped between life and death, neither here nor there, bound to this cursed mansion."
Belle felt her knees weaken, her chest rising and falling in sharp gasps. She pressed a hand against her lips, unable to speak.
Thomas's hand pressed against the mirror from inside, and the glass rippled as though begging to shatter.
"But when you came, Belle… something shifted. For the first time in centuries, I felt alive. Your presence awakened what was left of my soul. It is no accident. You are tied to me, in ways you cannot yet understand."
Her tears glistened as she shook her head.
"No… no, this can't be. I've just been seeing dreams. You've been hypnotizing me every night, haven't you? Making me come here against my will?"
His eyes darkened.
"Do you truly believe your heart can be controlled so easily, Belle? No. I may have pulled you through the veil, but what binds you here… is not hypnosis." He leaned closer to the glass, his whisper dripping like fire.
"It's your own desire."
Belle stumbled back, clutching her chest. His words echoed inside her, tearing at the thin wall she had built to protect herself.
She cried out, "Stop! You're wrong. I… I don't want this!"
But her trembling hands betrayed her, reaching once again for the glass. And when her fingertips touched the mirror, the warmth of Thomas's hand met hers on the other side.
The connection was undeniable. Electric. Dangerous.
His voice softened.
"You can lie to yourself, Belle, but not to me. Every night you dream of me. Every night, your soul seeks mine. Tell me then, is that fear… or love?"
Her lips parted, but no answer came. She could feel it—an invisible thread binding her heart to his, pulling her deeper into the darkness of his world.
Suddenly, the mirror glowed brighter, illuminating strange symbols etched around its frame. The walls of the room trembled, and Belle felt a wave of heat sweep through her body.
Thomas's voice grew heavy, as though weighted with centuries of grief.
"The more you come to me, the weaker the curse becomes. Piece by piece, you are unchaining me from this prison. But beware, Belle…" His eyes darkened like a storm.
"Freedom always demands a price."
Her breath caught. "What price?"
The glow of the mirror flickered violently, casting shadows that danced like demons across the room. Thomas's figure leaned closer, his eyes locked onto hers.
"Your soul," he whispered.
✨ End of Chapter 9 ✨