The Not-So-Dead Sister
Chapter 1: Whispers in the Walls
Councilman Roger Wilkins was a man of many secrets. Behind the charismatic smile, firm handshake, and tailored suits, he hid a truth so perilous that it could cost him everything. Every evening, after the political meetings, press conferences, and handshakes, he would return to his sprawling mansion, walk past the grand staircase, and head straight to a narrow set of steps leading to the attic.
“Dinner’s served, Miss Wilkins,” Roger called as he climbed, a tray of food in hand.
The attic was spacious but dimly lit, with just one window that let in a sliver of moonlight. At the far end of the room sat a frail woman, her face barely visible, surrounded by an array of peculiar symbols and ancient talismans. This was Lorna, Roger’s younger sister.
“Is it safe today, Lorna?” Roger asked, his voice tinged with concern as he placed the tray on a nearby table.
Lorna stared at the ceiling, her fingers dancing in the air, as if playing an invisible harp. “For now,” she replied, her voice soft but with an edge.
Roger sighed, pulling up a chair next to her. “You know, someday we will have to tell the world about you. I can’t keep you hidden forever.”
She turned to him, her eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. “The world isn’t ready for me, Roger. Nor am I ready for the world. The fire changed everything.”
The fire. The one that had consumed their ancestral home, killing their parents but leaving the siblings untouched. That’s when Lorna’s powers manifested. She could see into the future, manipulate the elements, and even commune with other realms. And while some might have seen it as a gift, Roger knew that it was a curse.
“There are those who want to use you for their gain, Lorna. Keeping you hidden is the only way I can protect you.”
Just then, a knock echoed through the mansion, disrupting their conversation.
“It’s late. Who could that be?” Roger muttered, rising from his chair.
Lorna’s fingers stilled, her face pale. “Be careful,” she whispered.
Making his way downstairs, Roger opened the door to find a young journalist, Camilla. “Evening, Councilman Wilkins. Sorry to intrude, but I’ve been following a lead about some… odd occurrences around town. People have reported seeing strange lights, hearing voices. Some even claim their homes shook. Any comment?”
Roger stiffened, forcing a smile. “Probably just rumors, Miss…?”
“Clark. Camilla Clark. And rumors or not, there’s something going on. And it seems all roads lead to the Wilkins’ mansion.”
Roger laughed, attempting to play it off. “Old houses make noises, Miss Clark. And people love to gossip. But if you have no other questions related to my political work, I must ask you to leave.”
Camilla hesitated, peering past him into the house, her eyes filled with determination. “Very well, for now. But I’ll be back, Councilman. And I intend to uncover the truth.”
Watching her leave, Roger’s heart raced. Was his secret about to be revealed? He thought back to Lorna’s warning and felt a shiver down his spine. The night was far from over, and the mysteries within the Wilkins’ mansion were just beginning to unravel.
Chapter 2: Unraveling Threads
The following morning, as dawn’s first light streamed through the mansion’s grand windows, Roger found himself pacing in his study. He had barely slept, plagued by the fear that Camilla’s snooping would lead her to discover Lorna.
Suddenly, a sharp knock on the door startled him.
“It’s me,” Lorna’s voice echoed softly. Roger quickly ushered her in.
“What’s the matter? Why are you out of the attic during daylight?”
Lorna’s gaze was distant, her fingers trembling slightly. “I had a vision, Roger. That journalist, Camilla? She’s going to be back, and she won’t be alone. They will discover me.”
Roger’s face paled. “We need a plan.”
Just then, a soft chime rang through the house: the doorbell.
“That’s too soon,” Lorna whispered.
With a quick gesture, Roger summoned his butler, who appeared promptly. “See who it is, James.”
James returned shortly. “Miss Camilla Clark is here with some colleagues. They claim to be from a renowned magazine, intending to do a feature on historic houses of the town. They’re requesting a tour.”
Roger’s mind raced. He couldn’t refuse without raising suspicion. “Allow them in, James. But ensure they stick to the main areas of the house.”
The tour began smoothly. Camilla, along with a photographer and another journalist, expressed admiration for the mansion’s architecture, its grandeur, and its antiques. Roger noticed Camilla’s eyes constantly scanning, looking for something amiss.
As they neared the restricted wing where the staircase to the attic was located, Lorna’s voice echoed softly in Roger’s mind, a skill she’d recently developed. “Distract them,” she urged.
Thinking quickly, Roger feigned a stumble, knocking over a vase. As the visitors rushed to his aid, James, the loyal butler, discreetly locked the door to the restricted wing.
“Oh dear,” Camilla remarked, eying the shattered vase. “Are you alright, Councilman?”
Regaining his composure, Roger nodded. “Yes, thank you. Just a misstep.”
With the tour over, Roger bid them farewell, but Camilla lingered. “Councilman, this mansion is full of mysteries, isn’t it?”
Roger merely smiled. “Every old home has its tales, Miss Clark.”
As the day wore on, Roger felt the weight of the impending danger. Nightfall brought an unexpected visitor, Police Chief Henderson.
“Evening, Councilman. Got some reports of odd lights and noises from your property. Mind if I have a look around?”
Roger hesitated, but knew refusal would be damning. “Of course, Chief. I’ve nothing to hide.”
The search was thorough, but thanks to James’s swift thinking, every potential clue leading to Lorna was well-hidden. The Chief eventually left, seemingly satisfied.
Returning to Lorna, Roger sighed in relief. “We need to find a way to protect you.”
Lorna nodded. “There’s a ritual. An old one, from our ancestors. It can shield me from prying eyes, but I need specific artifacts.”
Roger nodded. “Then let’s find them. We’ll keep you safe, no matter what.”
The stage was set for an urgent quest, with Roger’s political future and Lorna’s safety hanging in the balance. The mysteries of the Wilkins’ mansion were about to dive even deeper.
Chapter 3: Hidden Realms and Revelations
Over the next few days, Roger and Lorna scoured the house, combing through old family records, looking for clues about the ritual. The artifacts required were obscure: a phoenix feather, an ancient amulet, and a vial of moonlit dew. As Lorna worked on deciphering the ritual, Roger sought help from his network to procure the items.
Meanwhile, Camilla’s interest had grown into an obsession. She covertly observed the mansion, noticing the increased activity and the strange items being brought inside.
One evening, while Roger was away, Camilla managed to sneak into the mansion. Guided by her instincts, she reached the locked door leading to the attic. With a pick she had brought along, she managed to unlock it and slowly made her way up.
Lorna, sensing an intruder, hid behind a curtain, watching as Camilla entered, her eyes darting around, trying to decipher the myriad of symbols and talismans.
Suddenly, the room grew cold, and Lorna’s voice echoed, “Why are you here?”
Camilla, startled, looked around. “Who’s there? Show yourself!”
Lorna stepped out, her eyes glowing eerily. “You shouldn’t have come.”
Camilla gulped but held her ground. “I’m here to find the truth. People have a right to know.”
Before Lorna could respond, the front door slammed open. Roger, accompanied by Chief Henderson and two officers, stormed into the mansion, having been alerted of a break-in.
They quickly reached the attic. The scene was surreal: the dimly lit room, Lorna standing in her mystical aura, and Camilla, the defiant journalist.
Chief Henderson was taken aback by Lorna’s appearance. “Who are you?”
Lorna, taking a deep breath, replied, “I’m Lorna Wilkins, Roger’s sister. I’ve been hidden because of my abilities. Abilities I neither asked for nor wanted.”
Roger stepped forward, protective. “She’s no threat, Chief. But there are those who would exploit her, and that’s why she’s been hidden.”
Camilla, realizing the gravity of the situation, lowered her camera. “I wanted a story, but not at the cost of someone’s life.”
A tense silence filled the room. Chief Henderson finally spoke, “Councilman, your intentions might have been noble, but you broke the law by hiding her.”
Roger nodded. “I’m ready to face any consequences.”
Before the Chief could respond, Lorna intervened, “I can perform a ritual, one that will shield me from being detected. I’ll no longer be a secret, but I’ll be safe.”
Chief Henderson, seeing the desperation in their eyes, relented. “Fine, but Roger, you’ll need to make a public statement, explaining everything.”
The next morning, the town gathered in the town square. Roger, with Lorna by his side, revealed their story, explaining the reasons for their actions and the nature of Lorna’s powers.
The town was divided. Some were sympathetic, while others were skeptical. But, with time, they began to accept Lorna and her unique abilities.
Camilla’s article, instead of revealing a dark secret, spoke of the bond between siblings, of sacrifices made, and of the dangers of unchecked power.
Years passed. The Wilkins mansion, once a subject of whispers and rumors, became a beacon of hope. Lorna, no longer hidden, used her abilities for the betterment of the town, always under the watchful eye of her loving brother.
In the end, the mysteries of the mansion revealed not monsters or ghosts but a tale of love, sacrifice, and redemption.
