𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

𝑶𝒌 𝒔𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆! 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒐 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒚 𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍. 𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒏𝒐𝒘 😭😭.

𝑽𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑫𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓!

The minimalist room glowed faintly under the soft golden light of the bedside lamp. Shadows clung to the corners, making the silence feel deeper... heavier.

On the small bed sat an elderly woman, her thin shoulders hunched, her wrinkled fingers trembling as they held a worn photograph. The edges were frayed, the colors faded-handled far too often, loved far too long.

Her thumb stroked the image of a smiling young woman.

"My dear Kraetee..."

Her voice cracked in the empty room.

"I loved you so much. I would have accepted anything-anything you wanted, whatever decision you made..."

A tear rolled down her cheek, disappearing into the deep lines of her skin.

"Then why... why did you leave, my child?"

She pressed the photograph to her chest as soft sobs escaped her. Her fragile frame shook, every breath sounding like it carried the weight of years of regret.

The wooden door creaked open slowly.

Sky stepped inside.

He paused-not wanting to startle her-before quietly approaching the bed and lowering himself beside her. The mattress dipped with his weight.

The woman opened her eyes, quickly wiping her tears with the back of her hand. She forced a small, weak smile.

"How are you, Sky?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm good, Aunt," Sky replied gently. "How's your health?"

She let out a tired breath... one that sounded too close to surrender.

"I don't have much time left, son," she murmured. "That's why I asked for you."

Sky's chest tightened.

The woman's fingers slipped into his, clutching him as though he was her last anchor.

"Can you... please find Kraetee?"

Her voice broke again.

"I want to meet her before I die."

Sky didn't speak immediately-not because he doubted, but because the plea struck him so deeply he had to steady himself first. He wrapped both his hands around hers, holding them firmly, respectfully, lovingly.

"I will, Aunt," he said softly, with certainty."I'll bring her to you. Wherever she is... I know she will love to meet you."

"I hope so..." the woman whispered, her tired eyes glistening with fragile hope.

Sky stayed beside her, holding her hand in the warm glow of the lamp, the room silent except for the quiet breathing of a mother who still waited-still loved-still hoped for her lost daughter.

𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞The parking lot was unusually quiet for this hour, washed in the pale glow of overhead lamps that flickered every now and then. Concrete. Still air. The faint echo of distant traffic.

Pooh walked with a light bounce in his step, whistling the tune from the AI camp's final presentation-still proud of himself, still hyped from the after party his colleague's forced him to attend.

His backpack thumped against his shoulder.He was tired, tipsy, and ready to crash on the nearest couch the moment he reached home.

He spotted his car from a distance and his whistle softened into a hum... then fell silent.

That feeling again.

A prickling at the back of his neck.The weight of someone watching.Like eyes crawling over his skin.

He froze mid-step.

Slowly... very slowly... he turned his head, scanning the near-empty rows of the parking lot.

Only shadows.

Cold, long, unmoving shadows cast by the harsh white lights.

Pooh swallowed.

"Stop it..." he muttered to himself, shaking his head."You're just tired. Too much soda... and drama."

He forced a breath, forcing a laugh too, even though it sounded a bit hollow.

He walked again, quicker now, fingers already reaching into his pocket for his car keys.

But the feeling wouldn't go away.

If anything... it got stronger.

Something was wrong.

Deeply wrong.

He reached his car, hand trembling slightly as he grabbed the handle. He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder one more time.

Nothing.

"...See? You're being stupid-"

A breath.

Not his.

Warm. Close. Too close.

Right behind him.

Pooh's heart lurched as he spun around-eyes widening at the sight of-

And everything went black.

𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤

The storm howled through the forest like something alive.

Two boys-barely sixteen-ran through the woods with a desperation that made every step look painful. The rain poured in violent sheets, drenching them, blinding them, but they didn't slow. They couldn't slow.

One wore formal clothes-a button-up shirt, a tailored blazer clinging to his frame, clearly torn away from a meeting or an event.

The other wore casual clothing, mud splattered up to his knees, his breath already breaking into sobs as they ran.

Their lungs burned. Their legs trembled. The cold sliced into their bones.

But nothing compared to the terror in their eyes.

Lightning cracked across the sky, revealing the silhouette of an old two-story wooden house at the edge of the hill.

"There! Hurry!" the boy in formal clothes yelled, voice cracking.

They stumbled up the path, nearly tripping as they shoved open the gate. It slammed against the fence with a metallic CLANG that echoed through the storm.

They didn't stop.

They ran straight inside, up the stairs, water dripping from their clothes and pooling behind them.

They reached the attic door.

Locked.

The boy in casual clothes-already crying-dropped to his knees."P-Pew... P-Pew, please open the door..." His voice trembled so hard it barely came out. He pressed his forehead to the wood. "We're here now... please..."

The other boy's hands shook as he grabbed the doorknob, twisting, shoving, pulling-but it wouldn't budge. His jaw clenched; panic sharpened his breath.

Then-

A horrible, suffocating silence behind the door.

He cursed under his breath, stepped back, and scanned the hallway desperately.

The crying boy had sunk fully to the floor, knuckles weakly tapping the door."Did he..."

He couldn't finish. Couldn't speak the word.

The boy in formal clothes snapped his glare toward him.

"Don't say it." His voice shook with anger. Desperation. Fear.

He grabbed a metal display stand in the hallway-slammed it against the lock. Once. Twice. The third strike cracked the wood. The crying boy flinched but didn't move, still whispering Pew's name like it was a prayer.

Fourth strike.

The lock snapped.

The door creaked open.

And both boys froze.

"PEW!"

He hung from the beams of the ceiling, a rope carved so deep into his throat it had turned his skin purple. His small body swayed slightly from the impact of the door opening. His fingers were limp. His head hung forward.

The crying boy screamed as they rushed in.

They cut the rope-Pew collapsed onto them like a rag doll, cold and frighteningly light. The crying boy sobbed harder, hands shaking so much he could barely hold him.

"Pew-Pew please-don't-d-don't leave-"

His tears dripped onto Pew's bruised face, onto the busted lips and the darkened eye, onto the red handprints burned into his cheeks.

The formal boy didn't waste a second. He pressed his hands to Pew's chest.

"One-two-three-four-"

His voice cracked as he performed CPR.

"Come on-Pew-breathe-breathe-"

The crying boy clung to Pew's hand, squeezing it as if he could anchor him back to life. "Please... please don't die... please..."

Nothing.

No response.

The formal boy's breaths were turning into choked gasps of panic.

Then-

Pew's body jerked.

His eyes shot open as he coughed violently, collapsing forward into their arms.

Both boys let out broken sounds-half sob, half relief-as they wrapped themselves around his trembling frame.

Pew's voice came out in a shattered whisper.

"W-Why didn't... you let me die...?"

The crying boy shook his head furiously, hugging him tighter. Pew flinched from the pain of the bruises on his ribs.

"I... I can't live this life anymore..." Pew sobbed, fingers gripping the formal boy's soaked shirt. "I c-can't... I'm so tired..."

The formal boy swallowed hard, brushing the wet hair from Pew's forehead. He cupped his cheeks gently despite the angry red marks there.

"You don't deserve this, Pew..."

Pew shook his head weakly as tears streamed down his face.

"I have to die. If I don't... my father-"His breath hitched violently."He'll make it worse. He already said... when I turn eighteen... in a month..."He sobbed harder."He'll sell me-for my virginity... I can't-I can't bear it-please-please just let me go...I thought the assault was worse but after knowing his plan for future.... No no I can't."

The crying boy let out a wail like his heart was being ripped apart.

The formal boy's jaw tightened so hard a vein stood out along his neck. His eyes filled with a cold, murderous rage that didn't belong on a sixteen-year-old face.

He took Pew's shaking hand, gripping it firmly.

"Then we won't let him hurt you anymore," he said in a low, steady voice.

Pew looked up at him with broken, pleading eyes, "it's either he lives or I."

The boy leaned closer, rainwater dripping from his lashes.

"Then let's kill your father."

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝟏

𝑻𝒐𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒔,

𝑻𝒐𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒔,

𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒂𝒍?

𝑯𝒀𝑷𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑰𝑪 𝑷𝑶𝑰𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑺𝟐

𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑶𝑵 𝑫𝑬𝑪𝑬𝑴𝑩𝑬𝑹