Kelders Van Geheime: Ghost in the Glass
About
When Your Past Comes Crawling Back
They say a clean conscience is the best pillow, but for Veronique, sleep has become a battlefield. Lately, the walls of her estate don’t feel like a fortress anymore—they feel like they’re closing in.
For years, Veronique moved through the world like a shadow, cold and efficient. If you were an obstacle, you were removed. The list of people she sent "to the grave" is long, and for a long time, she wore those deeds like armor. But armor gets heavy, and eventually, the weight starts to crush the person underneath.
The Haunting of the Mind
It’s not just paranoia; it’s a downward spiral. Every floorboard creak sounds like a footstep. Every shadow in the hallway looks like a face she hasn't seen in years—faces she thought she’d buried for good.
She’s starting to wonder: Is it possible to spill so much blood that you eventually drown in it?
Her mind is in a constant spin, a carousel of guilt and terror. It’s one thing to outrun the law; it’s another thing entirely to outrun your own memory. When you’ve made as many enemies as Veronique, the world becomes a very small, very dangerous place.
A Sinister Twist: The Kidnapping
The breaking point hasn’t been a police siren or a courtroom summons. It’s the recent kidnapping of the baby—a disappearance that has shattered her remaining composure.
In her more rational moments, she looks for logical leads. But Veronique hasn’t lived a rational life. In the dark of the night, a more terrifying theory has taken root: What if the person who took the child isn't from the world of the living?
"When you’ve sent so many to the grave, you start to fear that the grave has a revolving door."
She’s haunted by the thought that one of her fallen enemies has returned to claim the only thing she has left. Is this a calculated move by a rival, or is the universe finally balancing the scales?
As she paces her silent halls, she isn’t just looking for a kidnapper. She’s looking for a way to live with herself—and that might be the one thing she can’t steal or kill her way out of.