"Happy birthday, Eve… Happy birthday, Eve… happy birthday dear—"
She looked up at her mother, quietly meeting those emerald eyes brimming with warmth and motherly love, while the soft melody carried through the dimly lit room. Candles flickered around them, casting shadows on the walls—some sat atop the cake, the rest scattered like whispers of light in the darkness.
"Come on, baby… make a wish," her mother said gently, pride in her voice and a sweet smile on her lips.
Eve closed her eyes.
She couldn't remember what she'd wished for.
She couldn't even remember blowing out the candles.
What she did remember was the sudden silence.
The kind that pressed in from all sides.
Heavy. Hollow. Timeless.
As if the world had stopped and left her floating in it, alone.
Then came the voice.
"Ariel…"
A whisper, low and otherworldly, stirring in the depths of her subconscious.
A figure emerged—distant, blurred like a shadow through fog. A man.
He turned to face her, and his eyes—an unnatural, glowing red—met hers for a split second…before he vanished.
As though swallowed by her own mind.
"Mommy?"
Her voice cracked as her eyes snapped open.
She was no longer in the room.
She stood outside, on the porch of their house.
A heavy winter jacket clung to her small frame, though she hadn't been wearing it before. The air was cold, biting—but numbness wrapped around her tighter than the fabric.
Her eyes burned. And then the fire.
Flames consumed the house before her, painting the night sky with smoke and destruction.
"Mommy!" she screamed, a tear falling and sizzling against her burning cheek as sirens wailed in the distance—
a cruel anthem to the end of something sacred.
In that moment, Eve knew.
She was alone.
"I'm alone…" she whispered, her vision blurring as everything collapsed around her.