DAGON MANSION

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: SCARLETT

The afternoon light fell dim and gray upon the prison, turning the tall windows into mirrors of lead. Within, Ryan sat beside the hearth, his expression calm but inwardly strained. Mia and Scarlett were with him — a tableau of uneasy peace. The air between them carried the scent of tension, like the moment before a storm breaks.

Scarlett, perched on the arm of the chair, fixed her wide eyes upon her father.

"Dad," she said quietly, "why did you marry that woman?"

Ryan did not flinch. "Her name is Theolinda," he replied, his voice soft yet steady. "I married her because she is kind, thoughtful, and strong. I believe she was meant to be my companion."

Scarlett frowned, her small hands tightening around her skirt. "I wish you had married Mom. I hate that woman."

Ryan's gaze flickered toward Mia — and for an instant, something unspoken passed between them, a flash of old pain and forbidden affection. Then he turned back to his daughter.

"Hate," he said gently, "is poison, my love. It corrodes those who hold it. You must not speak that way, not of anyone. Be kind to her, and to each other."

Mia's lips curved in a faint, brittle smile, concealing her laughter. She dared not betray her thoughts before the child.

Scarlett sighed. "All right. But I'm thirsty, Mom. Could you bring me some water?"

"Of course, darling." Mia rose, brushing her skirt smooth. "I'll be right back."

When the door closed behind her, the silence deepened. 

Scarlett looked at her father with a strange, faraway smile. "Dad," she said, "I wanted Mom to leave so I could tell you something."

Ryan's pulse quickened. "What is it, my princess?"

"Mr. Bear sends you his greetings."

Ryan blinked. "Mr. Bear?" The name struck some half-forgotten chord in his chest. "Who is Mr. Bear?"

Scarlett tilted her head, almost teasing. "He's your teddy bear. Don't you remember?"

A chill swept through Ryan's heart. The image rose vividly: a small, threadbare bear with one glass eye missing — his companion in the years when cruelty reigned in that house. "Yes," he murmured. "I remember him. But... how do you know his name?"

Scarlett's expression turned solemn. "He told me."

"What do you mean, he told you?"

"I found him inside the wall, behind the wood. When I touched him, I saw things... terrible things." Her voice trembled. "Grandpa... hit you. Said... bad word."

Ryan's breath caught. For a moment, he could not speak. "That's not important now," he whispered. "Did you see anything else?"

She nodded slowly. "You cried. Then they took the bear from you, but you found him again in the rubbish and hid him. You were clever, Dad. But Grandpa was horrible. I hate him."

Ryan's hands shook slightly. He reached out, pulling her close. "He's gone now, my darling. Long gone. Let the dead remain where they belong."

Mia returned then, carrying the glass. Scarlett darted toward her. "Thank you, Mom."

Ryan forced a faint smile. "Mia," he said quietly, "I need you to take Scarlett's old bear to Rowena. It must be cleansed — properly."

Mia frowned. "We already washed it. It's just an old toy."

"It isn't," Ryan said sharply. "Scarlett is gifted — she has psychometry. She can see the past through what she touches. That bear belonged to me. It carries what I endured. I won't have her seeing that again."

Mia's eyes softened. "You suffered more than you ever told me. All right — I'll take it to Rowena."

Scarlett clutched the bear in her thoughts, her mind defiant. They won't take him. They can't.

That evening, when they returned home, Scarlett slipped away. She ran to her grandfather's old room — a chamber long abandoned, smelling of dust and time. The walls were cracked; the furniture draped in veils of cobweb. She knelt by the dresser, pried open the hidden panel, and placed the teddy bear gently within.

"Don't worry, Mr. Bear," she whispered. "No one will separate us."

The shadows seemed to tremble, as if in approval.

The next morning, Mia searched for the bear and found nothing. Time pressed, and she left for the office, Scarlett by her side. Though the day was pale and clear, Mia felt the unease of unseen eyes upon her.

Randolf greeted them at the door, his smile as easy as ever. "Good morning, Mia. You've brought company, I see."

Scarlett studied him closely. "Good morning," she said after a pause. "You're strange."

Mia laughed softly. "Scarlett, don't be rude."

But the girl's gaze remained fixed. For an instant — or perhaps imagination's trick — she saw him differently: his features roughened, teeth glinting like a wolf's beneath his smile, his eyes bright with a hunger no human possessed. She blinked, and he was only a man again.

"I'm not sure," she murmured. "You just seem... odd."

Randolf crouched to her level, kindly. "That's because you don't know me yet."

Scarlett drew back, hiding behind her mother. "And I don't want to."

Meanwhile, in the prison, Ryan and Theolinda sat together in the visiting chamber.

"All is calm for now," Ryan murmured.

Theolinda smiled faintly. "Calm is rare in that house. You should treasure it."

He turned to her, eyes dark with warmth. "You look radiant tonight."

"Do I?" she said, almost shyly. "Then perhaps it is the light deceiving you. You, however, look dangerous."

He laughed softly. "Then danger must love you."

Their lips met — not in fever, but in reverence. Their embrace unfolded like the slow opening of a flower at dusk, all breath and shadow. Outside, the wind stirred the ivy on the stone walls, whispering like distant voices of the dead.

When at last they parted, Theolinda rested her head upon his shoulder. "The murders," she whispered. "They are increasing. The pattern grows darker. We have no choice but to confront it."

Ryan's gaze drifted toward the blackened windowpane. "I know. Alexandra must be consulted. And..." He hesitated. "I must speak with her about the curse."

Theolinda lifted her face. Her eyes, usually so composed, flickered with resolve. "Then I shall go with you. My father's protection still holds over me. The light and the dark may touch me, but they cannot consume me."

Ryan's hand tightened around hers. "So be it. But once we step into the Dark Dimension, there will be no turning back."

"Perhaps," she said quietly, "we have already crossed that threshold."

Outside, the night gathered like ink, pressing against the bars of the windows.