By evening, dark clouds rolled across the sky, veiling the sun. A long black car pulled up the gravel path of the Wheelbehelm estate. The engine rumbled to a stop as a tall, silver-haired man in a dark coat stepped out. His briefcase clanked softly against his leg as he walked with precision toward the grand doors.
Sir Reginald Dalewood had arrived. The family had gathered in the drawing room, tense and eager. The artifact rested on a glass table in the center, still wrapped in its violet cloth. Morris, the butler, ushered the guest in. "Sir Dalewood," Watefort greeted him with a firm handshake. "Thank you for coming so quickly."Dalewood gave a curt nod, his pale blue eyes fixed on the cloth-covered item.
"You said it had engravings... in Latin?" "Yes," Mr. Wheelbehelm replied. "And an eye... like something is watching.
"Dalewood slowly approached the table. The room fell silent as he unwrapped the cloth. The moment his fingers touched the object, a faint pulse echoed in the air — a vibration only a few could feel in their bones.
He examined the artifact closely, tracing the carvings. Then he froze. Veronica noticed the way his face changed. His jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed. She shifted uncomfortably.
"What is it?" Kristoff asked. Dalewood looked up, voice low. "This is no mere carving. This... is a vessel. An ancient one. One not meant to be found.
"Watefort frowned. "A vessel for what? "Dalewood hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "In some forgotten cultures, especially among the pre-Roman mystics, they believed certain objects could 'house' desire. Not wishes, but greed. The kind that feeds on ambition, envy, lust — raw craving ."He pointed to the Latin inscription.
"Ubi cupiditas habitat, ibi domus vivit."Where greed lives, there the house awakens.
Lady Wheelbehelm gasped. "Awakens?" Mr. Wheelbehelm echoed.
Dalewood nodded slowly. "They believed some artifacts grow. That they can possess not people, but places. It begins slowly... like a whisper. Then the house starts to change."The room grew cold. Kristoff laughed nervously. "Come on. It's just a carved stone. A weird house statue.""No," Veronica whispered, trembling. "He's right."
Everyone turned to her."I saw it," she said. "In my dream.
It was the house... but alive.
People were trapped inside, and it was eating them." "You never told me that part," Kristoff said, shocked. "I didn't want to scare you," she murmured. Dalewood slowly wrapped the artifact back in the cloth. "Dreams are the first stage. Then comes distortion — shadows, noises, misplaced objects. If the manor begins to shift in structure... you must not stay." Veronica's heart dropped. Amber broke the silence. "Are you saying... our house could turn into that?" Dalewood met her gaze. "If this object has already rooted itself here, yes.
It does not just haunt homes — it consumes them. Bit by bit. And it feeds on the greed of those who dwell within."Mr Wheelbehelm looked at his family. "We are not greedy people."Dalewood raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you?" The question lingered. Suddenly, a sound echoed down the hallway — a loud bang, like a door slamming shut. Morris ran back in. "Sir! The east wing just... sealed itself. The door won't Budge. And the hallway wall is... different. "No one spoke. Dalewood exhaled sharply. "It's begun."