The train screeched to a halt, its whistle slicing through the tranquil morning air. I blinked awake, disoriented, as the conductor nudged me. "End of the line, kid," he said gruffly before moving on. Groggily, I grabbed my bag and stepped onto the platform. The golden light of dawn bathed the countryside, and a cool breeze carried the faint scent of damp earth.
The station was small and unassuming, surrounded by stretches of rolling fields. A world away from the city chaos I'd left behind. My destination—my grandparents' house—was still a good 40 kilometers away, but Dad had assured me someone would pick me up.
I glanced around, looking for a familiar face or perhaps a signboard with my name. No luck. Resigned, I leaned against a pillar and pulled out my phone. Rhian's Instagram stories would kill time.
Rhian, my obnoxiously photogenic friend, was probably lounging at his resort, posting his trademark selfies with his girlfriend. I opened his profile and smirked. "Not bad, but seriously, Rhian? Do we need to see another 'couples pose at sunset' cliché?" I muttered, tapping out a scathing review in my head.
"Hey. You go by Ark?"
I froze. The voice was deep and loud, like a thunderclap that demanded attention. Slowly, I looked up.
The man towering over me looked like he belonged in a wrestling ring. Broad shoulders, a barrel chest, and a face carved from stone. His dark eyes were piercing, his presence so intense it felt like the air around him had shifted.
I managed a weak, "Uh… who's asking?"
"You're Ark, right?" he repeated, his tone growing sharper.
"That's… an interesting way to start a conversation," I said cautiously. My mom's advice about not talking to strangers was suddenly very relevant. "Why do you want to know?"
The man crossed his arms and sighed like he'd already lost patience. "Your grandpa sent me to pick you up. Said you'd be the kid with the smart mouth."
Typical Grandpa. But still, I wasn't about to trust this guy so easily. "If that's true, then you should have something to prove it," I said, squaring my shoulders.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, scrolling until he showed me a photo. My heart sank. It was a picture of me… when I was five. Pigtails and all.
"This is the most recent picture your grandpa had," he said, clearly enjoying my mortification.
"Of course, it is," I muttered. "And he didn't think to share my phone number?"
"Apparently, he still uses a landline. Don't ask."
I sighed. There was no point arguing. "Fine. I'm Ark. Let's get this over with."
The man grinned, a little too smug for my liking. "Glad we could clear that up. Hop in."
The SUV was massive, a beast of a vehicle that looked ready to conquer a jungle. Inside, it smelled faintly of leather and diesel.
The ride, however, was a nightmare. The narrow, bumpy roads made every turn feel like a rollercoaster gone wrong. My stomach protested loudly, but my driver seemed unfazed, humming along to a radio station that crackled with static.
"Could you… maybe slow down?" I ventured after a particularly sharp jolt.
"Relax, kid," he said, laughing. "You're in safe hands."
I wasn't so sure. By the time we arrived at my grandparents' house three hours later, I felt like I'd aged a decade.
Grandpa's booming laughter greeted me as I stumbled out of the car. "There's my city boy!" he bellowed, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug.
Grandma fussed over me immediately, brushing imaginary dust off my shoulders. "Look at you! Did you eat? How was the journey?"
Before I could answer, Grandpa was already chatting with his friend—the man who'd just terrorized me on the road. Judging by their laughter, they were likely swapping stories about how easily I'd been shaken up.
I rolled my eyes and turned to Grandma. "It was… an experience," I said, choosing my words carefully. She smiled knowingly, patting my cheek.
The next two days passed in a haze of chores and awkward small talk with the villagers. Grandpa had me helping with the farm, a task I was woefully unprepared for. But amidst the mundane, a mystery kept tugging at my thoughts: the ancient temple.
Rumors about it were everywhere, whispered in cautious tones. No one knew much—just that it was thousands of years old and shrouded in secrecy. Every fragment of information only deepened my curiosity.
That night, I decided to explore.
By 9 PM, the house was silent. I packed my essentials—water, a map, my compass, and a flashlight—into a backpack and slipped outside. The night was cool and quiet, the village bathed in moonlight.
The path leading out of the village was eerily still. Shadows danced across the ground, cast by swaying trees. My footsteps felt unnaturally loud against the silence.
"I should've scouted this in daylight," I muttered under my breath. The farther I walked, the more oppressive the air became.
And then, I heard it.
A low growl.
My heart leapt into my throat as I froze. Slowly, I turned toward the sound.
A shadow moved, stepping into the faint beam of my flashlight. It wasn't human. Yellow eyes glinted in the dark, and the creature let out another guttural growl.
"Oh, no," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I'm screwed."