Nineteen years ago –
In a room heavy with the scent of incense and the presence of ancient gods statues , statues stood like silent sentinels, their eyes carved in stone and gold watching over Rainer as he knelt alone in the flickering candlelight. Shadows danced on the walls, twisting the carved faces of gods into expressions that felt almost alive.
Rainer, much younger and desperate, clasped his trembling hands together. His voice was barely a whisper.
"God… Please, hear my prayer. If I cannot bring forth a child, my family's legacy ends with me. I cannot let that happen."
But the silence was profound and unbroken, pressing against his words like an iron weight. No whispers from the statues, no divine answer from above—only the quiet mockery of his own echoes.
He stayed there, waiting, hoping for any sign—anything at all. As the minutes passed, despair tightened around his heart. When nothing happened, a bitter realization settled in. Rainier slowly rose, his movements heavy with the weight of his unanswered pleas. Turning away from the rows of indifferent idols, he began to leave, feeling more alone than ever.
But then, just as he reached the edge of the candlelight, the air grew cold and thick, and an unnatural darkness seemed to swell within the room.
From the blackness, something took shape—a presence born of the shadows themselves. Rainer stopped, his breath hitching in his throat. He felt it before he saw it: the hairs on his neck rising, the air thick with dread.
"Where do you think you're going?"
The voice was low and menacing, a guttural whisper that seemed to slither into his ears. Rainer froze, every muscle locking in place. He wanted to look, but his body refused to obey, gripped by a paralyzing fear that seeped into his bones.
Slowly, almost unwillingly, his eyes shifted toward the darkness behind him. That's when he felt a hand—a cold, claw-like touch—rest upon his shoulder. Rainer's breath came in shallow, ragged bursts. He dared not turn, but his instincts screamed at him to run.
"You shouldn't look back," the voice warned, and this time it felt like ice sliding down his spine. "If you look back, you will die."
But the entity wasn't done. It tightened its grip, and Rainer could feel the icy pressure of its fingers as if they were sinking into his flesh. Sweat formed at his temples. He tried to swallow, but his throat was dry and tight.
From the corner of his eye, he caught the faintest glimpse but it was far from the truth —The figure draped in robes that seemed woven from darkness itself, its form disturbingly human but unmistakably monstrous. The creature's skin was a stark, unnatural white, and where its face should have been, there was only a grotesque mockery of features: two eyes, one centered on its forehead and the other where its nose should have been. Both eyes were unblinking and unnaturally large, glistening with a sickly sheen.
Its hair writhed and hissed—a mass of serpents coiling and slithering, their forked tongues tasting the air.
Rainer's heart pounded in his chest, and terror clawed at his mind. He felt an overwhelming urge to turn around, to see his tormentor in full, but the voice echoed in his head—a warning that throbbed with malice:
"Don't look."
.
.
.
.
.
Akondo's eyes shot open, finding himself back in his hospital bed, the cold drip of saline seeping into his veins. His breathing was heavy, shallow, like he'd just surfaced from drowning. He looked around frantically, then raised a trembling hand in front of his face, confirming that it was truly his own.
"I… I'm back," he whispered, voice barely more than a breath.
He slowly sat up, his thoughts racing in shock and confusion. What happened to the hot dog guy…? Wait, was that crash real? How did I even— His head throbbed as memories collided in fragments, refusing to piece themselves together. Did I cause this?
He swung his legs off the bed, testing the floor beneath him with shaky steps. Making his way to the window, he peered outside.
A small group of hospital staff was huddled around a gurney. His eyes widened as he saw the sheet draped over the motionless body of the hot dog vendor.
"Is he… dead?" Akondo thought, his voice catching in his throat.
Just then, the door creaked open, and a nurse stepped in. "You're awake?" she asked, with a tone that suggested she had been worried.
A few moments later—
In another room of the hospital, two police officers stood guard outside a door. Inside, Maxima lay on a bed, her face pale but determined. Ren sat beside her, his hand resting protectively on the edge of the mattress.
"Mother, are you feeling any better now?" Ren asked, his voice steady but tinged with concern.
"Yes, the pain's not as sharp," Maxima replied softly. "But where were you? And… what happened to Marou or the driver?"
Ren shifted uneasily. "Uncle's in surgery. They're removing the bullets. Once he's awake, they'll arrest him."
Maxima nodded slowly, absorbing the news. "Did your father call again?"
"Yeah, twice since we got here," Ren replied. "Oh, and… there was an accident outside. A middle-aged man walked into the street and got hit. He didn't make it."
"Oh my… how awful," Maxima murmured, her expression tightening with worry.
Ren opened his mouth to continue, but his phone buzzed sharply in his pocket. He glanced at the screen and sighed. "I'll be back in a minute," he said, standing up.
He stepped into the hallway and was just about to answer the call when a girl came barreling down the corridor and crashed straight into him. Ren barely had time to react, but his reflexes kicked in, and he grabbed her hand before she could hit the floor..
"I'm sorry!" Ren blurted out.
The girl steadied herself, quickly picking up her fallen handbag. "Sorry too," she mumbled hurriedly, her expression flustered. She turned and continued rushing down the hallway without looking back.
The Girl was Saren.
Ren watched her go, then noticed something on the floor. A phone. He glanced at his own phone still in his hand and then back at the one on the ground. He picked it up, and the screen lit up to reveal a wallpaper—Seren and Akondo together, smiling.
"Must be hers…" Ren thought, looking down the hallway just in time to see her disappear around the corner.
Akondo lay in his bed, staring blankly at the window. The world outside felt distant and unreal. I don't know what to do now… If what happened is real, then… His thoughts were a chaotic mess of doubt and fear. I can't just live like this…
The door swung open, and he turned to see Seren standing there. The sight of her sent a jolt of confusion and alarm through him.
"Seren?" Akondo stammered. "Wh-what are you doing here?"
Seren's face was a mixture of anger and something else—something unreadable, almost hurt. She marched towards him with a resolute stride.
"Who called you here?" Akondo continued, but before he could finish the question, Seren raised her hand and struck him across the cheek with a sharp slap.
"Huh?" Akondo gasped, the sting of the slap leaving him stunned. He looked at Seren, eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and pain.
"What do you think you were doing?" Seren's voice was sharp with frustration. "What's wrong with you all of a sudden?"
Akondo avoided her gaze. "Who called you here?"
"I'm not answering that," Seren shot back, her voice rising. "Not until you answer my question. Are you trying to harm yourself? I told you to go home, but you didn't listen, and now look at you!" she screamed, her voice cracking with emotion.
"I—" Akondo started, but Seren cut him off, her voice breaking. "It's my fault," she said, her words trembling. "I… I should've been more careful. I should've stayed and made sure you got home safely."
"Seren, it's not what you think," Akondo tried to explain.
"Then what is it?" Seren demanded, her eyes burning with tears. "Why were you outside in the cold, in the middle of the night, with no winter clothes? The nurse told me you were found unconscious around nine. What else am I supposed to think?"
Akondo coughed slightly, and Seren's face crumpled in guilt. "See? Why am I even blaming you?" she whispered, her voice shaking. "It's my fault. I was so irresponsible… so careless that I let you end up like this." She choked back a sob, tears spilling down her cheeks. "If something happened to you…"
Without thinking, Akondo pulled Seren into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Please, forgive me."
Seren buried her face in his chest, her voice muffled and raw. "I… if anything ever happened to you, I wouldn't be able to take it. Promise me you won't do anything like this again."
"I promise," Akondo said, his voice steady despite his own guilt. "I won't."
He gently pulled back, his hands lingering on her arms as he wiped the tears from her face. "I love you," he said softly. "And I'll keep my promise, no matter what."
A faint, relieved smile crossed Seren's face. "I love you too," she murmured.
Just then, a male voice came from the doorway. "Excuse me… Oh, sorry," the voice hesitated.
Both Seren and Akondo turned to see a young man standing at the entrance, holding a phone in his hand. It was Ren.
"Are you talking to us?" Seren asked, still holding Akondo's hand.
"Sorry to interrupt," Ren said, a bit awkwardly. "But did you drop your phone in the hallway?"
Seren instinctively checked her bag and realized it was empty. "Oh, I must've dropped it when I bumped into someone…"
Ren cleared his throat. "Well, that someone was me," he admitted with a small smile. "You dropped your phone there."
He approached slowly and handed the phone to Seren. "Again, sorry for the interruption," he said, giving a brief nod.
Ren turned to leave, but just as he did, his eyes met Akondo's. In that split second, something changed.
Akondo saw a glowing, golden-white energy flickering within Ren's irises, like a light reaching out from deep within. At the same time, Ren's gaze seemed to penetrate straight into Akondo's soul, his pupils reflecting a dark, black-red glow.
The air around them grew dense and heavy, pressing down as both Akondo and Ren locked eyes. Neither of them could see it, but an invisible aura began to emanate from their bodies.
Akondo's aura pulsed with dark, swirling shadows, while Ren's radiated a pure, blinding white. The conflicting energies collided, unseen yet unmistakable, like two storm fronts converging.
Only Akondo could feel the pressure, a suffocating force tightening around his chest. It was as if something inside him was twisting, squeezing, trying to break free. Each breath he took felt labored, like sharp knives were piercing his lungs, his ribs, and every nerve in his body.
An invisible grip seemed to close around his throat, slowly squeezing the life from him. The pain was relentless, time itself warping, every second stretching into agonizing minutes.
Akondo's body felt paralyzed, unresponsive to his desperate attempts to move. Voices began echoing inside his mind—haunting, disjointed, and unnervingly familiar.
The piercing cry of a newborn echoed first, followed by a frantic woman's voice whispering urgently, "Save him at any cost, or they will kill him. Take him somewhere safe!"
The words blurred into a chaotic torrent of unintelligible whispers, bombarding his mind with meaningless fragments of information. It was like a dam had burst, and an ocean of memories and voices rushed in to drown him. The pressure swelled to a breaking point until Akondo felt as if his skull was being split open by the weight of it all.
He heard every voice at once, as if his head was an antenna picking up the cries of the world.
The unbearable pain and cacophony became too much. He finally regained enough control to scream, his voice raw and primal, tearing through the silence.
To Seren and Ren, the exchange seemed only a brief glance—until Akondo's scream shattered the moment.
Ren instinctively stepped back, startled by Akondo's outburst. Seren rushed to Akondo's side, her eyes wide with panic. "What happened?" she asked, her voice trembling with concern. Akondo only continued to scream, his hands clutching his head as if trying to physically hold his mind together.
"Please, call a doctor!" Seren pleaded, her voice breaking.
"Yeah, okay…" Ren stammered, glancing back at the door just in time to see a doctor entering the room.
The doctor rushed forward, his face tightening in alarm. "What's happening? Who's screaming?"
Ren stood there, shaken, trying to make sense of what he had witnessed. "Is this boy mentally unstable or something?" he thought.
The doctor reached Akondo, trying to assess the situation, but at that exact moment, Ren's phone buzzed with a call. He stepped out of the room to answer it, his thoughts still spinning with the strange encounter. Just as he crossed the threshold, Akondo's screaming abruptly stopped.
"Looks like he's turned back to normal now," Ren muttered, his voice hollow with lingering confusion.
He continued down the hallway, speaking into his phone, trying to brush off the eerie encounter.
But after a few moments, he hung up, a lingering unease gnawing at him. He approached his mother's room, pushing open the door to find her sitting up, casually scrolling through her phone. Everything seemed normal, but as he stepped closer, the hallway around him began to spin.
A wave of nausea hit him hard. He felt a sudden, intense pain in his chest—not where his previous injuries were, but deep on the opposite side, like a blade twisting into his heart. The room tilted, his vision blurring, and he collapsed onto the cold tile floor.
"Ren? What's wrong?" Maxima's voice broke through, but Ren couldn't respond. His chest heaved violently, and then he felt a sharp sting at the back of his throat. His stomach convulsed, and he vomited—except it wasn't bile.
Blood erupted from his mouth in thick torrents, splattering across the floor with alarming force. Maxima's face turned pale, horror etched into her features. The blood kept coming, spraying the ground in sickening waves, the crimson staining everything in its path. Ren's breaths came in short, desperate gasps between the heaves, but the pain only intensified.
He couldn't understand what was happening—why his body was betraying him this way. All he felt was pain, unyielding and suffocating, as if his very life was being wrenched from him.
[To be continued]