Sunday Short: Gaslighting

Everyone at LarisTech knew the rule: Don’t breathe wrong around Ms. Delphine Ong.

She could twist any sentence into an accusation, reshape any mistake into your fault, and turn any success into hers. She smiled while she did it too, a sharp, glossy smile that never reached her eyes.

To her, gaslighting wasn’t a tactic. It was an art form.

And her favorite canvas?

Aria.

For months, Aria endured it.

“You’re too sensitive.”

“I never said that, you imagined it.”

“You’re lucky I still keep you here.”

“You must be stressed, dear. That’s why you’re confused.”

Every day, a little more of Aria dimmed.

Every day, a little more of Delphine glowed.

But something inside Aria snapped on a Friday evening, the kind that hangs heavy with exhaustion and unspoken rage.

The office was empty except for the two of them. Aria stayed back to finish a report Delphine had “never assigned” but insisted she did. And Delphine… well, Delphine stayed to watch her crumble.

“See?” Delphine purred as she stepped closer. “You always mess things up. Honestly, Aria, sometimes I think you enjoy disappointing me.”

Aria froze, fingers trembling over her keyboard.

“Look at you,” Delphine said. “You should be grateful I correct you. Without me, you’d be...”

A sudden spark flickered above them.

The lights dimmed.

The office air thickened, as if holding its breath.

Delphine frowned. “What now…?”

Aria didn’t move. She didn’t blink.

She simply whispered:

“Do you know what happens to things that keep dimming others?”

Delphine scoffed. “What nonsense.."

Another spark. A crackle.

This time, Delphine turned.

The flickering lights weren’t dying.

They were gathering.

A bright orange glow bloomed in the corner of the ceiling like a small sun waking up.

The sprinkler system didn’t respond. The alarms stayed silent.

Only the light grew pulsing, like it had finally found its target.

“Aria?!” Delphine backed away. “What is this? What did you...”

Aria stood up slowly.

“It’s funny,” she said, voice steady in the rising heat. “You spent so long trying to make me feel small. To make me question everything. To take my fire away.”

The glow intensified, casting burning reflections in Aria’s calm eyes.

“But fire,” Aria whispered, “always finds its way back.”

The flames dropped not spreading, not wild, but direct, falling upon Delphine like judgment. Her screams echoed through the office as the flames wrapped around her, devouring the last smirk she’d ever wear.

Aria didn’t look away.

She simply watched as the light finally consumed the one who loved to dim others.

And when it was over, the fire vanished as abruptly as it came.

No scorch marks.

No alarms.

Just silence.

Aria walked out of the office, the faintest glow following behind her like a spark finally freed.