As the sun rose and golden light spilled through the tall windows of the Wheelbehelm mansion, life stirred once again. Servants bustled through the halls preparing breakfast. The butler, Morris, rang the silver bell and called the family to the grand dining room.
Everyone gathered, laughing and chatting as they sat down to eat. The long table shimmered with polished silverware and steaming dishes.
Mr. Wheelbehelm, the family patriarch, cleared his throat and raised his glass. "Marriage," he began, looking at the newlyweds, "is not a bed of roses. But with patience and strength, it becomes a garden of meaning."
Everyone chuckled warmly, nodding. But then Amber — Veronica's sister-in-law — blurted out with a nervous laugh, "Veronica got a strange gift yesterday... from a weird old man."
Silence fell.
All eyes turned to Veronica, who lowered her gaze, hands trembling slightly.
"Father... I—yes," she stammered. "I meant to tell you, before Amber mentioned it."
Kristoff stood. "Let me go get the gift."
As he left, Veronica explained what had happened — the man's appearance, his cryptic words, and the unusual warning. Just then, Kristoff returned holding the box.
"This is the gift," he said solemnly, placing it before his father.
Mr. Wheelbehelm unwrapped the violet cloth. Inside sat a strange artifact — a miniature house carved from dark stone. It had a single, unblinking eye on its roof, ancient Latin engravings along the base, and a tiny wooden door with a delicate handle.
"Well," Mr. Wheelbehelm muttered, tilting it in his hands. "I am a lover of rare artifacts... but this one is rather unusual."
"Father," Veronica spoke up. "Maybe my dad, Mr. Watefort, can help. Why don't we call Sir Dalewood? He might know something."
"Sir Dalewood?" Mr. Wheelbehelm frowned. "Watefort, who is this man, and what does he have to do with this object?"
"Oh, I know him well," Watefort said. "He's a conservative scientist. A seeker of the ancient and the unnatural — the kind of man who finds things even gods would prefer buried."
Lady Wheelbehelm crossed her arms uneasily. "Watefort, I hope this strange item doesn't bring bad luck to my son's marriage."
"Certainly not," Watefort replied quickly. "You know I would never do anything to sabotage my daughter's happiness. I'll do whatever it takes to protect her. I'll call Sir Dalewood right away."
He stepped out and spoke to Dalewood on the phone. The scientist listened carefully, then promised to come that very evening.
Watefort returned to the family with the update. "He'll be here by five o'clock."
Everyone sighed in relief and returned to their day, eager for answers.
But that afternoon, something strange happened.
Veronica woke with a scream.
Her heart pounded, her skin drenched in cold sweat. The dream had been vivid — too real.
The manor... the house... it had been alive. A monstrous version of the artifact, with that same unblinking eye. She'd seen people inside it — family members — screaming as walls closed in around them. The house ate them.
One by one.
She bolted from her room and ran across the estate to the stables, where Kristoff was grooming his horse, Buckley.
"Kris! Kris! Kris!" she cried, out of breath.
He turned, alarmed. "Veronica? What's wrong?"
"I had a dream — no, a nightmare — a bloody one," she gasped, trembling.
Kris helped her to the bench near the stable and called over a servant. "Bring my wife some water and a snack — quickly."
Then he turned to her, gently brushing her hair from her face. "Vera, breathe. Tell me what happened."
"I wish it was just a ghost I saw…" she whispered, "but it was worse."
Kris took her hands. "Tell me, love."
She began to sob, shaking. "Everyone died... all of them. I saw a house — the manor. It had... an eye. A door. People were living inside it, and then it started eating them. It devoured them, one after the other."
Kristoff stared at her, the color slowly draining from his face.
The air around them seemed to shift.