I should have turned back.
The moment I heard those words, I should have walked away, left the village, and never looked back.
But I didn't.
Because something about the way the old man spoke, the way the compass had led me here, told me that leaving wasn't an option. Not yet.
So I stayed.
Even as the weight of his words settled deep into my chest.
"They disappear."
Not just once. Not just randomly.
Every full moon.
I tightened my grip around the compass, my knuckles turning white.
"How?" I asked. "What happens to them?"
The old man's expression darkened. "No one knows. No screams. No signs of struggle. They just… vanish."
I swallowed hard. "And no one does anything?"
He exhaled through his nose, looking up at the sky. "Some tried. Others learned the truth too late."
A cold wind brushed against my skin. The sun was already dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of deep orange.
And then I realized—
Tonight was a full moon.
I spent the next few hours wandering the village, trying to shake the unease crawling under my skin.
The people… they weren't scared. Not like how a normal village would be if they knew something terrible was coming.
No.
They were waiting.
A woman swept her doorstep, humming softly. A man sat outside, repairing a fishing net, his movements steady and unhurried. Children played, laughing, their voices filling the air.
I would have thought the old man had lied.
But then I saw the way they glanced at the sky when they thought no one was looking.
The way their hands trembled, ever so slightly.
The way their smiles didn't quite reach their eyes.
They knew.
And worse—they had accepted it.
I stopped at the village square, my jaw tightening.
I wasn't the type to get involved in things that didn't concern me. I wasn't a hero. I wasn't some wandering savior.
But this…
This didn't feel right.
And I needed answers.
I returned to the old man just before nightfall.
"You said people tried to stop it," I said. "What happened to them?"
His eyes studied me for a long moment before he sighed.
"They disappeared too."
I clenched my fists.
"So, what? You just let it happen?"
The old man's gaze was heavy, but calm. "What else can we do?"
I had no answer.
Because I didn't know.
And then, the sun dipped below the horizon.
And the village fell silent.
The air changed.
It wasn't something I could see or hear, but feel. Like the weight of the sky pressing down on my shoulders.
Then, at midnight—
It began.
A whisper.
Not from inside the houses. Not from the streets.
From everywhere.
A low, murmuring sound that wasn't quite words.
I moved to the window of the inn, my heartbeat hammering in my chest.
And that's when I saw them.
Shadows.
Not people—at least, not anymore. Figures shifting like smoke, gliding soundlessly through the village.
They stopped in front of certain houses.
And then—
The doors opened.
Not slowly. Not hesitantly.
Like the people knew.
And one by one, villagers stepped outside.
I expected screaming. I expected resistance.
There was none.
They walked out calmly, their faces blank.
And then, before my eyes—
They vanished.
No sound. No flash of light.
Just gone.
I gritted my teeth, my fingers gripping the windowsill so hard they ached.
I didn't know what was happening.
But I knew one thing.
This wasn't natural.
And I wasn't leaving without figuring out why.