The door yanked open, scaring the shit out of the poor girl.
A long, slow sound that sliced through the silence like a blade across skin.
Dolia didn't move. She couldn't. Her legs were stiff, folded awkwardly beneath her where she'd collapsed hours ago—maybe longer. There was no clock here, is not like she can see if there was one anyway. Only shadows. And that unbearable, suffocating cold.
Her fingers dug into the stone floor as light spilled in from the open door, golden and soft—but not warm. It lit up the room slowly, chasing shadows across the uneven walls like frightened ghosts. She blinked, squinting through the sudden brightness, but didn't rise.
She was too stunned to cry, too tired to scream. Her voice was already hoarse from whispering questions into the dark.
"Where am I?"
"What is this place?"
"Why does my heart still hurt if I'm already dead?"
Now, the only sound was the steady groan of wood as the iron gate opened fully… and stopped.
A pause.
Stillness.
Then came footsteps.
Soft. Measured. Hesitant.
Not in a hurry. Not kind.
The girl curled her fingers tighter, clutching the hem of the dress she now wore—rough fabric, unfamiliar weight. This wasn't her body. It was smaller, thinner… sicklier. Her hands weren't her hands. Her heartbeat didn't feel like her own.
'did I changed so much just because I'm a ghost?'
But the fear?
That was very, very real.
The footsteps reached the threshold, and a figure stepped in. She didn't raise her head, but she felt the presence. Tall. Distant. Someone used to being obeyed, not questioned.
"Get up," a deep voice commanded. Cold. Impatient. Not cruel—but definitely not kind.
She didn't move.
'who the heck is this one too '
Dolia wants to give a piece of mind to the man who dared to speak with her in such manner, she might be kind and poor but hell she also has pride. But the problem is, she can't move or speak, is like someone is pressing down her body.
Her throat worked around a word she wanted to say so badly. Who are you? But her voice refused her. All she could do was breathe.
The man stepped further in, boots echoing against stone, and she instinctively flinched. Not from the sound—but from the pressure. The presence. Like the room itself had tightened around her.she feels suffocated, the feeling is so new to her,she doesn't know what to do, it's like a rush of a stormy energy.
"So you're still alive," he muttered, like it annoyed him. "What a waste of everyone's time."
She wanted to scream at the jerk Infront of her—confused, offended.
He stared down at her with sharp, emotionless eyes. His face was too perfect to be warm. His features were clean, elegant, noble. But the expression he wore was distant. Cold as the shadows she'd been drowning in.
"I don't care what trick you're playing," he continued. "Keep your act to yourself. The only reason you're still breathing is because of Grandfather."
Her mouth parted.
Grandfather…?
That word rang with meaning. She didn't know why. She didn't even know who she was supposed to be right now. But something deep inside her remembered that name.
Before she could gather the courage to speak, he turned.
"The others don't want to see you. I don't want to see you. Stay in this room, or wander around and get eaten by the beasts. It doesn't matter to me."
And then, just like that—he walked away.
No explanation. No question. Not even a glance back.
The door creaked again, swallowing the light as it closed….
This time, she didn't cry.
She sat there in silence, heart thudding in a body that wasn't hers, in a world that felt like a nightmare, and whispered to herself,
She died trying to save someone and this jerk have the nerve to wish her death, she's already death what else that he wants. If only she mind her own business.
Hold on...
I've never seen this man before, but it's seems he knows me
What does he mean by beast?
You're still alive because of grandfather
Remembering what the man said, she touch herself, , and even pinch herself.
No, ghost's can't feel pain and they don't have fresh, could it be....
"…I think I transmigrated?."
And that was when the wind howled outside—like something far away had just noticed her.
---