Shadows of Deception

Chapter one - Pg. 4

The morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a gentle glow on the small, cozy living room where Edwin sat with his legs propped up on the coffee table. His fingers danced along the spines of the books that lined the shelves, stopping occasionally to straighten one that had been replaced. Denora, hummed softly as she watered the potted ferns that adorned their windowsill.

"Did you remember to feed Basil?" Denora asked without turning, her voice light and melodic.

"First thing this morning," he replied, glancing at the lazy tabby cat sprawled across the sofa armrest. A warm, contented sigh escaped him as he watched her tend to their indoor greenery. She always said the plants brought life into their simple home—a belief he never disputed, for it was her touch that made everything seem alive.

There was a comforting rhythm to their Sunday routine: the smell of fresh coffee brewing, the sound of pages turning, and the occasional murmur of conversation that required no real thought, only the presence of the other to be complete. It was in these moments, surrounded by the mundane bliss of domesticity, that Edwin felt most at ease.

Yet today, something gnawed at the edges of his serenity. An inexplicable undercurrent disrupted his thoughts. As he observed Denora move gracefully around the room, a subtle tightness coiled within his chest, an uninvited guest whispering warnings that he couldn't quite discern.

The clock on the mantelpiece ticked audibly in the otherwise silent room, each second seemingly louder than the last. Edwin rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension that had inexplicably settled there.

"Are you alright, love?" Denora's question sliced through the thickening air, her intuitive gaze finding his. He offered a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Of course," Edwin lied smoothly, the unease making his voice sound foreign to his own ears. "Just thinking about work tomorrow."

"Always the diligent one," she teased gently, returning to her plants. But the playful spark in her eyes did little to dispel the growing disquiet in Edwin's mind.

An unexpected chill brushed against his skin despite the warmth of the sunbeams that bathed the room. He shivered imperceptibly, drawing his gaze away from Denora to scan the familiar surroundings. Everything was as it should be—their collection of mismatched mugs on the shelf, the stack of crossword puzzles on the end table, the faint scuff marks where Basil sharpened her claws on the corner of the couch.

Yet, beneath the veil of normalcy, Edwin caught the scent of something foul, like the distant decay of unseen rot. He blinked, trying to clear the disturbance from his senses, but it clung to him, a harbinger of darkness lurking just beyond the horizon of their idyllic life.

"Maybe a walk would do you good," Denora suggested, her concern now audible in her tone as she wiped her hands on her apron.

"Maybe," he murmured, though he remained seated, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular. The feeling of dread had taken root, and he knew instinctively that no amount of walking would shake it free...