The night had fallen heavy over the mansion.
The moonlight barely filtered through the curtains of Kay's room as she sat cross‑legged on the bed, brushing her hair slowly.
Her mind was buzzing.
David holds him like he's some kind of treasure. That little boy is the only wall between me and everything I deserve.
Her lips curled into a sickly sweet smile. Walls can be broken.
She stood, smoothing her satin robe and stepping softly toward the hallway. The mansion was quiet—too quiet. Miss Dora had retired early, and David had gone to his study after tucking Harry in.
Kay's eyes gleamed as she moved toward the boy's room.
Tonight… he learns again.
Inside Harry's room, the soft glow of a night‑light painted the walls.
Harry was asleep, his little fists curled against his chest, his breathing uneven.
Kay stood over him, watching him.
For a moment, there was silence—then her fingers brushed his cheek, too cold, too lingering. His eyes fluttered open.
He froze.
"Aunty?" His voice was a whisper. A plea.
Kay tilted her head, her voice syrupy but edged with menace.
"Shhh… don't wake anyone. We're going to play a game."
Harry's lips trembled. "N-no… please… not again…"
She grabbed his wrist, pulling him out of bed. He stumbled, his small legs tangling in the blanket.
"You cry, you die," she whispered in his ear, the words like venom.
She dragged him out of the room, down the hall, and into the dimly lit guest room at the end of the corridor. She shut the door softly behind them.
Harry's heart thudded in his chest as she pushed him toward the old wooden chair in the corner.
"Sit," she ordered.
He obeyed, shaking.
Kay opened a drawer and pulled out a long silk ribbon—one of her hair ties—and wrapped it around his wrists, tying them behind the chair.
"See? Nice and tight. So you can't run away while we play."
His breathing quickened. "P-please… I'll be good… I promise I won't tell Dad… please don't hurt me…"
Kay crouched in front of him, smiling wide.
"You said that yesterday, baby boy. But you still cry to him. I saw it. You cling to him like a parasite."
"I didn't! I didn't!" Harry sobbed, but his voice broke into hiccups.
Kay stood, pacing slowly. Her robe trailed behind her like a shadow.
"You're lying. And liars deserve lessons."
She opened the wardrobe, rummaging through its contents until she found an old leather belt left by a previous guest.
The sound of it snapping in her hands made Harry flinch so hard the chair wobbled.
"No—no, please—"
"Shhhh." Kay's voice dropped low. "You'll wake the whole house."
She raised the belt—and brought it down hard on the floor beside him, the crack echoing.
Harry screamed.
"Too loud," she hissed, striking the belt across his small legs this time. His cry was muffled by his own sobs.
"You think your daddy will save you? You think that old hag will always be there?" she hissed, striking again.
His legs trembled, red marks blooming across his skin.
And then—
"Kay?"
The voice froze her mid‑swing.
The door creaked open a fraction.
Miss Dora stood there, framed by the dim hallway light, her eyes still heavy with sleep.
She had come to check why she heard faint cries.
Kay's heart raced. For a moment, neither moved.
Miss Dora's gaze dropped to Harry—tied to the chair, face streaked with tears, legs marked with fresh red lines.
The older woman's lips parted in horror.
"Kay… what… what are you doing?"
Kay dropped the belt slowly, forcing a smile.
"Aunt Dora," she purred, stepping toward her, blocking her view of Harry. "You're awake so late…"
"Don't you dare come closer to me." Miss Dora's voice shook, her hand gripping the doorframe. "You—untie him. Right now."
Kay's mind raced. No witnesses. No one ruins this.
She forced her face into wounded innocence.
"You don't understand… he's been… he's been hurting himself—he tied himself—he—"
"Stop lying to me!" Miss Dora's voice cracked with anger. "I trusted you with him!"
Kay's smile broke. Her eyes darkened, her voice dropping into a snarl.
"You trusted me? After all I've done, after how he—David—chooses that child over me every single time?"
Miss Dora's face paled. "Kay… you need help—"
"NO!" Kay shrieked, grabbing the belt again. "I need him to be gone! To be gone so David sees me!"
Harry sobbed, shaking his head wildly. "Grandma—help—"
Miss Dora rushed forward, pushing past Kay and grabbing at the ribbon around Harry's wrists.
Kay's eyes widened, fury flooding her. She yanked Miss Dora back by her hair, slamming her against the wardrobe.
Miss Dora gasped in pain, but she fought back, shoving Kay away with trembling hands.
"You monster," she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "David will know. He'll know everything."
Kay panted, her hands trembling. Her nails dug into her palms, drawing blood.
"No. He won't."
She grabbed Miss Dora's throat, pushing her against the wall. The older woman struggled, clawing at Kay's wrists.
Harry screamed, voice breaking, "STOP! LEAVE HER! PLEASE!"
The sound brought Kay back to herself for a split second. She let go, stepping back, breathing hard.
Miss Dora collapsed to the floor, coughing, eyes wide with shock and terror.
Kay crouched down beside her, brushing her hair back almost tenderly.
"You shouldn't have come in here," she whispered.
"You'll never get away with this," Miss Dora rasped, clutching her neck. "David will—"
Kay's smile twisted. "David believes every word I say. Do you think he'll believe a woman who's losing her mind with grief… or his beautiful, devoted fiancée?"
Miss Dora stared at her in horror. Kay leaned closer, voice low and cold:
"But don't worry… I won't hurt you. Not tonight. You'll tell no one, though. Because if you do…"
She glanced over at Harry.
Miss Dora's breath caught.
"Good girl," Kay whispered.
Kay untied Harry roughly, shoving him toward Miss Dora.
"Take him," she ordered, as if she had some right.
Miss Dora gathered the sobbing boy into her arms, clutching him tight despite the pain in her neck. She backed toward the door, never breaking eye contact with Kay.
Kay stood in the middle of the room, hair disheveled, chest rising and falling, that dark smile still on her lips.
"Go on," she said softly. "Go on, take him. But remember what I said."
Miss Dora didn't reply—she turned and fled down the hallway, Harry clinging to her. She locked her bedroom door behind them, her heart racing, tears falling freely now.
Harry buried his face in her shoulder, shaking. "Grandma… I'm scared…"
She kissed his head, whispering, "I'm here, baby. I'm here. I won't let her touch you again…"
But in her heart, terror bloomed. Because she knew Kay's words weren't empty.
She knew the darkness wasn't finished with them yet.
In the guest room, Kay stood alone, listening to their retreating footsteps. She tilted her head back and laughed softly to herself—a low, broken sound.
Then she whispered into the empty room,
"Run while you can. The game's just begun."