"Are you really going with me now, Vivianne?" Sharlene asked.
Vivianne simply nodded, her eyes unwavering. She had already filed for a one-day leave from work and promised herself she would only return when her body was ready—hopefully by Monday.
With no more hesitation between them, the sisters made their way to their grandmother's mansion. A heavy sigh escaped Vivianne's lips. She had vowed never to return to this house—one steeped in bitterness and painful memories.
As they passed through the gates, Vivianne spotted a cheerful little girl playing in the vast garden. A chill ran through her. She knew instantly she was stepping into the memories of this place—into a haunting echo of the past.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, steadying herself.
"Sister, I'll just look around out here. I'll go upstairs after," she said softly.
"Don't push yourself when it gets too much, Vivianne," Sharlene replied with concern.
Vivianne only nodded again as her sister entered the mansion first, leaving her alone in the yard. She scanned her surroundings carefully.
There were many restless souls wandering here—most were former servants. But the spirits of Leah's parents were nowhere to be found.
This used to be a joyful home, one of the ancestral houses of the Martinez family. It had been lovingly raised by Leah's kind parents—until it fell into someone else's hands. Vivianne saw glimpses of its past, a time when laughter still lived within its walls.
She witnessed young Leah and Angely as close friends, with Angely treated as a true companion. The mansion echoed with joy and friendship in those memories.
Vivianne also saw Leah's innocent romance with Manuel—a woman deeply in love. She saw how Leah supported Manuel in searching for Sharlene, even though their efforts failed. Later, when Leah married Manuel, the mansion fell silent, its liveliness lost. Only her aging parents remained.
Occasionally, Leah returned here—usually after arguments with her husband. Vivianne saw one such visit when Leah was pregnant.
Pregnant. The word echoed in Vivianne's mind like a whisper of dread.
A narrow staircase led down to the basement. As she followed it with her eyes, she heard Leah's sobs—the heart-wrenching cries of a woman who lost her child.
Is this where she buried her baby?
Her gaze fell on a weathered wooden cross, nearly devoured by termites. She could hear its silent plea, a call to the unborn child who was never properly laid to rest.
Then came a new memory—men with guns. Armed intruders stormed the mansion. Vivianne watched in horror as two elderly people—Leah's parents—begged for mercy.
Their pleas were ignored.
Bullets flew. The elders fell. Even children, hidden and trembling, were found and executed. Not a single soul was spared.
The screams and gunfire echoed in Vivianne's ears, along with the bitter, terrified sobs of the dying.
And then, a man stepped over their bodies. Another figure entered—a woman.
Angely?
"Before you take your last breath, sign this," the man ordered one of the dying victims.
Vivianne watched as the old man, barely clinging to life, glared up at him.
"Ray—mun—do… you bastard."
"Sign it before I drag you to hell," Raymundo sneered.
The old man's body could no longer resist. He was forced to sign, trembling and helpless.
"Finish them," Raymundo ordered with a casual wave.
"Is everything okay there?" Angely asked.
"Yes, honey," he smiled, kissing her on the lips as if nothing happened.
Later, Vivianne heard police sirens. She watched Raymundo speaking to officers, giving explicit instructions.
"I want no trace of this. After your investigation, tell your people to clean everything up. Someone will be living in that mansion soon."
Vivianne broke into a sweat. Her stomach turned. Then, she saw her grandmother—Felicia—handing Raymundo papers, including documents related to a bank account under the Martinez family name.
No... it can't be.
Even if she tried to deny it, Vivianne knew: her grandmother knew Raymundo.
What has this family become? she thought bitterly.
It finally made sense. The heavy feeling that always lingered in this mansion—the oppressive weight—was caused by the many innocent souls buried without dignity, their cries trapped in these walls.
Some bodies were found and displayed, yet no one came forward to claim them.
The pain in her head grew stronger. She clutched it, trembling, and rushed inside to find Sharlene.
More visions surfaced. More ghosts.
This mansion had witnessed unspeakable horrors.
Sharlene has to know.
Suddenly, the surroundings darkened. Vivianne saw Leah—her spirit—looking at her with sorrow in her eyes, as if trying to show her something important.
Vivianne woke up, dazed and holding her forehead. Her head throbbed. She was now in the living room.
Did I faint? she wondered.
"Vivianne."
A voice called out to her.
She didn't speak. She was holding some medicine now.
"Are you feeling better?" Sharlene asked gently.
Vivianne slowly adjusted her sitting position.
"I saw you on the stairs. I thought something happened to you," Sharlene said, clearly worried. "I told you, didn't I? Don't push yourself too hard."
"You need to know something," Vivianne replied.
Sharlene studied her face. "Take a break first," she said softly.
"Sis... did you ever ask Lawrence about what happened in this house?" Vivianne asked.
Sharlene nodded. "The Salazar family left in a hurry after the massacre. They were terrified they'd be the next targets. Lawrence doesn't know who was behind it, but I know Grandma Felicia does."
"Raymundo."
"Raymundo?" Sharlene echoed, confused.
"That's the name of the man who ordered the massacre."
Sharlene's eyes widened in shock. Her breath caught in her throat.