Secrets of Severin Villa –
Genre: Horror | Mystery | Thriller
Last Time on Part 1:
Rivan Dey entered a forbidden forest and discovered Severin Villa—a haunted house buried in silence and shadow. After exploring the house, the forest vanished and he found himself trapped in an endless night. The villa, breathing with a cold wind, whispered:
"Now you belong to the secrets."
Durvan – 19 Years Ago
There was once a family that lived in the villa—The Severins. Wealthy, quiet, almost royal. Father: Orien Severin, a doctor. Mother: Lyssa, a pianist. One daughter: Maea, age 6.
One stormy night in July, a scream echoed across the forest. The maid ran barefoot to the village in the rain, trembling, soaked, and bloody.
“They’re gone! They’re all gone! The doors... the doors won’t open anymore!”
When villagers reached the villa the next morning, it stood in silence.
No one was inside. But food was on the plates.
A candle still burned.
The piano played itself… just once.
And the forest never let anyone in again.
Present Day
Rivan stared into the endless night. The villa stood behind him, massive and unmoving, but the forest was gone—as if it had never existed. Just black ground, and stars that didn't twinkle.
He turned. The villa door creaked open again on its own. He had no choice.
He stepped inside.
This time… the villa was different.
The chandelier was swinging.
The piano downstairs played softly on its own.
The portraits now had eyes intact… and they followed him.
He climbed the stairs, heart pounding like war drums.
At the top, he found a locked room. The name Maea etched on a rusted gold plate. Beneath it, scratch marks. Hundreds.
He placed his ear to the door.
Nothing.
Then—a child’s voice from inside.
> “It’s not them… It never was them... they wore their faces.”
He staggered back.
---
He ran down the stairs to escape but found the hallway longer—endless. Doors on both sides now, none familiar.
He opened one.
A dining room.
Same as before, but now the plates were full. Steam rising. Meat still pink. The chair at the head was pulled back. As if someone had just stood.
He moved slowly.
Suddenly the mirror beside the table cracked.
Rivan turned. No one.
He looked back in the mirror. A figure stood behind him.
A man in a doctor’s coat. Hollow eyes. No lips. Blood leaking from where the mouth should be.
Rivan spun around—nothing.
He grabbed the camera and whispered:
> “I think I just saw Orien Severin.”
---
Back in the library, the open book had new text—handwritten, bleeding through the old page:
> "She never grew old. She stayed while we rotted. The villa feeds on time. Those who come stay forever. Even if they die."
Suddenly, a bell rang upstairs.
One. Two. Three times.
The sound of bare feet running across wood. A child laughing, then crying.
The hallway went cold. Frost crept along the banister. Rivan’s breath fogged the air.
He ran up the stairs again, and this time Maea’s room door… was open.
---
Inside was a child’s room frozen in time.
Toys untouched.
A rocking horse slowly rocking.
Walls scribbled with chalk in unknown language.
A mobile of stars above a crib, spinning.
Then he saw it:
A little girl, back turned, facing the window. Hair long. Dress white. Feet dirty.
Rivan whispered, “Maea?”
She didn’t turn.
He stepped closer. His camera lens flickered.
The girl whispered:
> “They called the forest to save me… but the forest wanted more. It took the house. It took the time. It took them.”
She turned.
No eyes. Just black, hollow space.
Her smile stretched inhumanly wide.
Rivan fell back, gasping, and—
She vanished.
---
He ran. Back through the hallway. Every door now opened on its own—each room more horrifying than the last:
A room filled with shadows crawling on the ceiling.
A nursery of dolls whispering in unison: “Stay.”
A bath full of blood, and no reflection in the mirror.
He finally reached the main door.
It was sealed shut. No handle. No hinges.
The walls began pulsing like lungs.
The villa was alive.
And then—Rivan heard a man’s voice behind him. Calm. Deep.
> “You were never meant to leave.”
Rivan turned.
There stood Orien Severin again. This time… smiling. But not at him—at the villa.
---
Orien raised a hand.
The chandelier dropped from the ceiling.
Rivan rolled, barely escaping.
He turned back—but Orien was gone.
On the floor where he stood, a child’s drawing was burned into the wood:
A man standing next to a house made of bones.
A girl standing far away.
The sun black.
The words: “She’s not alone anymore.”
---
Suddenly, the doors flew open with a blast of icy wind.
The forest was back.
Alive.
But twisted.
Trees with faces.
Roots like fingers.
A cold mist rising like smoke.
Rivan ran. Branches reached for him. Leaves whispered his name.
He didn’t stop.
Not until the fence.
He leapt over it—and collapsed.
---
Durvan Village – Next Morning
Villagers found him unconscious near the boundary. Shivering. Scratched. Clutching his broken camera.
He was taken to the temple. An old man—one of the last who remembered the Severins—sat by his side.
> “You went too far. You woke it. The house is feeding again.”
Rivan stared at him, pale.
> “It’s not just haunted... It’s hungry.”
Coming soon......
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