Evelyn and Marcus had been together five years — steady, passionate, loyal — but lately, something between them had shifted. Not broken. Just… quiet.
So when a sleek, matte-black envelope appeared in their mailbox one rainy afternoon, it felt almost fated.
You are cordially invited to The House of Echoes.
One night only. One door opens to something new.
Couples only. Masks required.
No return address. No explanation.
It was absurd. It was thrilling.
They said yes.
The drive led them far beyond the edge of town, through winding forest roads and into misty hills. The house stood alone — tall, angular, lit from within like a cathedral. No signs. No numbers. Only a brass doorbell, and a man in a dark suit waiting with two black masks.
Inside, the air hummed with music — low, strange, almost like breathing. Velvet curtains separated rooms. Mirrors lined the walls, some half-covered in fabric. Couples moved through the space in silence, their bodies wrapped in silk, satin, shadow.
A woman in a feathered mask approached them. “You’re not here to watch,” she said softly. “You’re here to remember what you’ve forgotten.”
Before Evelyn could reply, she had taken Marcus’s hand and led him into a room behind a crimson curtain. Evelyn felt the moment split — jealousy, yes. But also a burning curiosity. A mirror across the room showed her reflection flicker as another figure stepped into the light beside her.
A man — tall, masked, wordless. His eyes searched hers.
He didn’t speak. He only offered his hand.
Evelyn hesitated… then took it.
Inside the House of Echoes, doors led to places that didn’t exist in the real world — rooms lit by candles, lined with velvet, filled with people rediscovering each other by first letting go.
Touch was gentle. Consent was whispered before every moment unfolded. The rules were clear: say yes only when you mean it. Leave the moment your heart closes. And never return to the same room twice.
When Evelyn and Marcus found each other again, hours — or minutes — later, they stood silently in front of a long mirror. Their masks were off. Their hair was tousled. But their eyes… they burned.
“I missed you,” Evelyn said.
“I felt you in every room,” Marcus answered.
They left just before dawn, the forest pale with fog. No one followed. No one asked their names.
But as they pulled onto the empty road, Evelyn glanced at the rearview mirror — and for just a second, swore she saw the same black envelope tucked behind the wiper.
Waiting for the next invitation.