"Did you know that if the Moon disappeared, the Earth and its ecosystem would gradually head towards annihilation? Without the Moon, there would be almost no tides to slow us down. The Earth would spin faster, so our days would only be a few hours long. Not to mention, the Earth would wobble instead of staying fixed on its axis, which is stabilized by the Moon's gravity. The climate would change catastrophically, with extreme weather affecting the entire biosphere. It would be the path to extinction...
"That being said, a lot of recent evidence supports the theory that the Moon isn't a natural celestial body, but possibly a hollow structure or an artificial satellite placed in Earth's orbit hundreds of thousands of years ago. Spooky, right? One of the most convincing pieces of evidence is that astronauts discovered industrially processed metals up there, so there's a high chance the Moon was created... by someone."
Dung touched the screen, stopping the video playing on the YouTube channel of "Mr. X," a content creator specializing in conspiracy theories who had recently become quite popular online. After a few moments of thought, she began to type in the comment section below the video:
"has anyone else ever been scared of the moon, especially a full moon?"
After posting the comment, Dung closed the app and checked her messages from Thanh. The last message she sent still didn't show the "Seen" receipt. Frustrated, she turned off her phone and tossed it onto the corner of her bed. She lay down, annoyed, resting her arm across her forehead. Suddenly, a glint of light flashed across the face of the teddy bear beside her. The light, reflecting off its shiny black plastic eye, made the bear's normally cute face look sharp and cold. Startled, Dung turned to check the window. A small gap between the two curtains had let the moonlight stream through. Terrified, she quickly sat up, pulled the curtains tightly shut, then backed away, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Dung slumped onto the bed, her eyes welling with tears. She clasped her hands on her pillow, buried her face in it, and stifled a choked sob.
Dung was afraid of the Moon, but she hadn't always been. It all started two years ago, just after she had finished her freshman year of university.
Of course. Here is the translation of the story "Cold Moon - Part 1," crafted to preserve the original tone and meaning.
Cold Moon - Part 1
"Did you know that if the Moon disappeared, the Earth and its ecosystem would gradually head towards annihilation? Without the Moon, there would be almost no tides to slow us down. The Earth would spin faster, so our days would only be a few hours long. Not to mention, the Earth would wobble instead of staying fixed on its axis, which is stabilized by the Moon's gravity. The climate would change catastrophically, with extreme weather affecting the entire biosphere. It would be the path to extinction...
"That being said, a lot of recent evidence supports the theory that the Moon isn't a natural celestial body, but possibly a hollow structure or an artificial satellite placed in Earth's orbit hundreds of thousands of years ago. Spooky, right? One of the most convincing pieces of evidence is that astronauts discovered industrially processed metals up there, so there's a high chance the Moon was created... by someone."
Dung touched the screen, stopping the video playing on the YouTube channel of "Mr. X," a content creator specializing in conspiracy theories who had recently become quite popular online. After a few moments of thought, she began to type in the comment section below the video:
"has anyone else ever been scared of the moon, especially a full moon?"
After posting the comment, Dung closed the app and checked her messages from Thanh. The last message she sent still didn't show the "Seen" receipt. Frustrated, she turned off her phone and tossed it onto the corner of her bed. She lay down, annoyed, resting her arm across her forehead. Suddenly, a glint of light flashed across the face of the teddy bear beside her. The light, reflecting off its shiny black plastic eye, made the bear's normally cute face look sharp and cold. Startled, Dung turned to check the window. A small gap between the two curtains had let the moonlight stream through. Terrified, she quickly sat up, pulled the curtains tightly shut, then backed away, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Dung slumped onto the bed, her eyes welling with tears. She clasped her hands on her pillow, buried her face in it, and stifled a choked sob.
Dung was afraid of the Moon, but she hadn't always been. It all started two years ago, just after she had finished her freshman year of university.
Dung had wanted to rent a place with three of her classmates. But unlike her friends who came from the far provinces to study in the city, Dung's family lived in a suburban district. It only took two bus rides for her to get home to her parents each day. She had two older brothers who both worked far from home, so her parents poured all their attention onto her, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call it overprotective. To get permission to move out, Dung had tried to persuade them with every reason she could think of: it was more convenient for extra classes, less tiring than commuting, not to mention all the group projects. But her parents remained adamant, even flaring up and threatening to pull her out of school to learn a trade. It was only when Thanh came over, at Dung's desperate plea, that her parents calmed down and finally agreed to indulge their youngest daughter.
It wasn't for no reason that Thanh had such a strong influence on her parents. Dung and Thanh were what you would call childhood sweethearts. Thanh was a year older than Dung, and his father was her father's closest comrade-in-arms. Thanh's mother had left when he was just a toddler, and his father never remarried, choosing to raise his son alone. But he was a trader and often had to travel for business, so during those times, he would entrust Thanh to Dung's family. You could say Thanh was raised by Dung's parents alongside their own three children. They ate together, studied together, played together, and were punished together. Dung's parents adored Thanh, not just because they sympathized with the plight of a single father, but because Thanh was calm, understanding, and well-behaved. At the end of middle school, Thanh's father's business stabilized in the inner city, so he sold their house in the neighborhood and had Thanh move in with him. The day Thanh left, young Dung felt a pang in her heart; she didn't know then that it was the sign of an innocent, budding love.
It wasn't until high school, when her parents bought her a phone, that Dung, after much begging, got Thanh's contact information from Phuc, her second-oldest brother. There's an old saying about how "the post shouldn't go looking for the buffalo," but Dung didn't care; she made the first move. Contrary to her worries, Thanh already had feelings for his "little sister." Their relationship progressed naturally from there. In Dung's senior year, Thanh, now a university freshman, would often visit. At first, it was to see Dung's parents and the neighbors, but after seeing him come and go so frequently, her parents caught on. But since they already approved of "the boy they'd watched grow up," knowing his character and temperament, they didn't make things difficult. In fact, Dung's mother even paved the way for them by asking Thanh to tutor Dung for her university entrance exams. Whether it was because Thanh was a good teacher or because of the power of love, Dung passed with flying colors and got into the Economics faculty at the same university as Thanh.
Returning to the matter of Dung moving out, Thanh had to promise the heavens and the earth that he would look after his "little sister." Dung's father only relented when Thanh, in his capacity as a member of the University Youth Union's Executive Committee, promised to secure her a spot in the university dormitory. The authority of the man who had chased him with a switch throughout his childhood compelled Thanh to arrange for Dung and her three friends to get into the dorm, even though Dung's original plan had been to rent a place off-campus for more freedom to work part-time, and especially to have more space to be with Thanh.
When they moved into the dormitory, Dung and her three friends were very impressed. Because the university had won a series of major academic awards for five consecutive years, it had received a large government grant. One of the first upgrades was the dormitory complex behind the campus, which had previously been so dilapidated that few students wanted to live there. Dung's year was the second batch of students to move into the new dorms; everything was new, clean, and modern. At first, Dung was clumsy, often forgetting her key card and having to ask Duyen or Tham to come down and let her in. Each room had only two bunk beds for a total of four people, leaving space for a large, in-suite bathroom. At the time, Dung felt lucky not to be experiencing the rumored cramped and dirty conditions of student dorms.
As for Dung's group of friends, they were brought together by "fateful encounters," as Tham liked to say, having all sat in the same row on the first day of school. Besides Tham and Ngoc, who had known each other since high school in Vinh Long, Dung and Duyen were just pieces pulled into a group by Tham's charismatic personality. Dung was a carefree and cheerful girl, so she immediately went along with it. Only Duyen, the tall, thin girl with thick glasses and a perpetually messy pixie cut, was always quiet during their conversations. She would just listen, occasionally offering a smile to go with the flow. Dung remembered having to ask several times before the group learned that Duyen was from Tay Ninh; her voice was always hesitant and broken, like a child afraid of being punished by a teacher for saying the wrong thing. Ngoc, on the other hand, looked the most "urban" of the group; her makeup, hair, and clothes were incredibly fashionable. Rumor had it her mother owned a popular chain of dessert shops across the western provinces, with branches in the city as well. Tham had been working part-time since high school, so she was mature and acted very much like the "big sister" of the group.
The university dormitory was divided into three blocks: one for men and two for women, as the school prioritized providing a safe environment for female students from out of town. Dung's group was in Block B, the farthest from the entrance. At first, Ngoc constantly complained about the long walk every time she came back. She was also the one who would occasionally threaten to "move out" and rent a whole house, offering to pay half the rent whenever something at the dorm annoyed her. But she have dropped it when her three friends showed no interest. Dung and Duyen, however, loved their room. Their room, B4.04, was a corner room and one of the few with its own private balcony out back. The balcony overlooked a small, distant canal, and every evening, the two of them would sit there and enjoy the view of the sun turning into a "salted egg yolk" before sinking below the other side of the canal. Duyen would sometimes read a book, other times she would hold a sketchbook and a pencil, drawing and measuring. At times like those, Dung would wish that the person sitting next to her was Thanh. At the thought, she would blush shyly and send him a small icon in their chat. "Big sister" Tham was probably the most pragmatic one in the room. As soon as she got her acceptance letter, she had arranged to come to the city to find part-time work. And not just one job; she had a whole list of short-term, hourly, and event-based job opportunities ready to go. You would only see her show up to lectures to mark her attendance for the strictest professors; the rest of the time, she relied on her friends to be her stand-ins. And yet, every night, Tham would make it back just before the gates closed, never once getting a warning from the dorm manager for being late. Being so resourceful, she was the one who planned all the group's shared activities. In truth, without Tham, these four disparate pieces might never have bonded so well.
The first year passed by for the young students. When summer came, aside from Tham, who was definitely staying at the dorm to continue working, Dung and her two other friends decided to go home to their families. On the day they parted, instead of the three of them comforting their friend who was staying behind alone, it was Tham who had prepared a gift bag for each of them to take home to their parents. While Duyen was speechless, Ngoc quickly chirped, "Let me go visit your parents for you," then grinned and dashed towards the elevator. Dung accepted the gift with a heavy heart. She had also claimed to be looking for a part-time job, and though Tham had pointed her to six different places to try, she would only last a few days, two weeks at most, before quitting or being politely let go. So after her first year of university, she hadn't earned a single dong of her own, let alone bought gifts for anyone. Looking into Tham's eyes, Dung felt as if she was being told "being clumsy isn't a crime," sniff... After giving some rather redundant advice about staying healthy and being careful with the door to the most resourceful "big sister" in the group, Dung and Duyen also trudged off. As the elevator doors were about to close, Dung saw Tham waving with a smile and suddenly felt her stomach clench, but she had no idea it was a premonition of the last time she would see Tham... whole and unharmed.
That summer, Dung spent the first two months at home, bored and lonely. After a year of being used to having her sisters to confide in, now she just wandered around, watching the cows and then the chickens, with no one to talk to. Even though her two brothers were working and sending money home every month, her parents stuck to their old ways, always busy with their hands and feet. They said that sitting still would make them sick faster. So, besides helping her mother with some sweeping, laundry, and cooking, Dung just idled away her time watching movies and reading stories on her computer and phone. Thanh had an early internship this summer, so he was also very busy. Most evenings, he could only call or text for a short while before telling his darling he had to sleep, exhausted from a long day working with machinery at the workshop. As a result, Dung found herself constantly looking to their group chat for some fun. Ngoc was on a tour of the Mekong Delta with her mom, ostensibly to inspect their provincial branches, but mostly to travel and check in at local specialty food stores. Everywhere she went, she would buy souvenirs, foods and arrange for a single delivery to each of her three friends. Duyen, a true bookworm, would occasionally send a nice quote she'd just read or a link to a novel to the group chat. Thanks to Duyen, Dung had more to keep her entertained. Tham would drop in every evening to react to the day's messages from the three of them and send a few lines before bed.
Then one day, Tham didn't drop any reactions, nor did she say anything. At first, they just thought she had fallen asleep from working too much. By the third day with no reply, Dung grew worried and tried calling, only to find that her phone number was no longer reachable. Dung messaged the group and tried mentioning Tham's name multiple times, but there was no response. As Dung paced restlessly around the house, she heard her phone ring. It was Ngoc. "The delivery guy told me he couldn't call her (Tham). They wanted to return the package. I asked them to leave it with the management office, but the security guard and the manager wouldn't accept it... and I can't reach her either..." Dung tried to calm herself down and told Ngoc to try contacting Tham's parents, but Ngoc said they were elderly, and she was afraid that asking without knowing the full situation would worry them too much. Finally, Ngoc suggested a group call with Duyen, the one with the highest IQ in the group, or at least higher than her own. Dung immediately hung up and started a group call in the chat. Three frames appeared, the faces of Dung, Ngoc, and Duyen all filled with anxiety.
"I sensed something was wrong yesterday, so I tried calling Tham but couldn't get through. I also contacted the dorm manager. She went to the room and found it locked from the outside. She checked the security camera and saw that Tham had left around noon two days ago and hadn't returned..." Duyen said in a clear, continuous stream. Dung and Ngoc had never seen their friend be so proactive.
"So what do we do now? Where can we even look for her? Oh my god, Tham, please be okay..." Ngoc started to cry. She was in the car with her mother on the way back to Vinh Long. On her end, they could hear her mother calming her down, telling her to be calm.
"I'm the closest. I'll go to the city now and figure something out. We can't solve anything from here," Dung said decisively after a moment of thought.
"I will... arrange some things. Tomorrow, maybe tomorrow... I will come... there," Duyen suddenly became as hesitant as usual, her eyes darting to the right as if she were trying to compose herself.
"I'm turning the car around and heading to the city now. Wait for me, you guys..." Ngoc's voice was choked with sobs.
Dung looked at her two friends, feeling her resolve strengthen. Her mind was now racing with all the possible scenarios that could have happened to Tham. She had to call Thanh; right now, he was the only one she could cling to. Besides him, she didn't know who else to rely on. That's right, she would call Thanh now and go straight to him. With that thought, Dung was about to tell her friends that she would get ready to leave, that she would meet Thanh and... Just as she was about to speak, something terrifying happened on her phone screen. The fourth window had just appeared, the window with Thắm's profile picture. That's right, Tham was also in the group chat and could join this call. But the image in Tham's window was strange; it was just a patch of black, pitch black.
"Ahhh..." Ngoc's scream of terror erupted, and in her window, she was hastily covering her mouth with her hand.
Duyen seemed frozen by the image, her eyes wide behind her thick glasses. "Tham!" all three of them yelled, stumbling over each other to speak to the pitch-black window. Then they stopped when there was no response.
But it wasn't complete silence. From the other end of the line, a sound began to emerge, like someone tuning an old radio. A scratching, static hiss grew louder until it became a jarring screech of white noise. Dung strained to listen because she felt that within the chaotic sequence of sounds, there was a voice, calling her name.
Beep - A notification window popped up. The call had ended. All four, or perhaps only three, had been kicked from the call. Dung tried to call back but couldn't. She immediately switched to her phone and called Duyen. On the other end, she could hear Duyen muttering something over and over.
"A demon... it's a demon..." Duyen's voice was terrified. Although Dung couldn't explain what had just happened, ghosts and demons were the last things she wanted to think about. Right now, her priority was her worry for Tham's safety.
"Duyen, calm down a bit. Did you hear anything in there just now? Answer me..." Dung pleaded. Duyen tried to suppress her sobs and the tremble in her voice. "Yes... yes... it, Tham... she called... my name..."
Dung felt like she was going to faint. She wasn't sure if it had been Tham's voice, but she believed the voice in the static had been calling her name. How could it now be calling Duyen's name? This was becoming too bizarre. Dung said a few more words to Duyen to arrange a meeting spot, then hung up. She was about to call Thanh immediately when she saw dozens of missed calls and messages from him in her log. "Call me back right now." Dung didn't understand what was happening, but a gut feeling made her fear that Thanh's search for her was related to Tham's situation.
She called him back. The other end picked up instantly.
"Dung, where are you?" - "I'm just at home," Dung tried to suppress the quiver in her voice.
"Sit down, okay? And listen to me calmly... Hmm, the police just came to the university to investigate..." Dung felt her body go limp; she nearly lost the strength to hold her phone. A lump rose in her chest, and she could no longer hold back her tears. So something had happened to Tham. There was no hope left for her dear friend.
"You... you already knew? How did you know? The police said Ms. Hoa had an accident... it seems like a suicide. She ran into a truck..."
Ms. Hoa?! The dorm manager? Wait, what was this? Another piece of new information made Dung's emotions and thoughts explode.
"What did you say? It was Ms. Hoa? It wasn't Tham who was in trouble?... I'm sorry, I didn't mean about Ms. Hoa..." Dung was horrified to realize she had felt a flicker of relief that the victim wasn't Tham. But why Ms. Hoa, why would she commit suicide... these questions instantly brought Dung back to a deadly reality that was unfolding around the people she knew.
Noticing something was off with Dung, Thanh patiently told her what he knew. Ms. Hoa was over 50, a long-time employee of the university. She had no family and rented a room in a collective housing block near the school. She was strict but also very caring towards the students, so she was well-liked. Previously, Ms. Hoa had worked in the university library, but about five years ago, she was transferred to student affairs to manage the Block B dormitory. The strange thing was that the "accident" happened on the road leading to the highway near the canal behind the school, which was not a route she usually took. Local residents reported seeing her walking for a long stretch, barefoot and in disheveled clothes, before suddenly darting out into the middle of the intersection. The truck driver couldn't stop in time, and she died with a mangled body and multiple traumatic injuries. The authorities contacted the university because at the time of the incident, she wasn't carrying any identification or even her phone, only her university staff ID card.
Dung also told Thanh about what had happened with her friends over the past few days. He tried to suppress his fear and reassured Dung that Tham was a very smart person and would surely be mindful of any dangers. And if she had been in an accident, there would have been a report by now. Sometimes, when the pressure from work is too much, people just go somewhere to relax their minds. Dung thought Thanh's analysis had a point, but that was because she had hidden the bizarre events of the recent group call from him. For some reason, Dung felt she didn't want Thanh to get involved in the vague and unsettling things she and her friends were facing.
Dung told Thanh she would take a bus to the university and meet him there. Thanh knew he couldn't dissuade his girlfriend at this point, so he arranged to take the afternoon off. Dung told her parents that a teacher at her school had passed away and had few relatives, so she and her friends wanted to go help out, and also get a head start on preparing for the new school year. Although reluctant to let their daughter leave early, Dung's parents saw no reason to stop their child from doing a good deed and quickly helped her pack some money and food to take with her.
Busy packing and heading to the bus station, Dung didn't notice that Ngoc had just sent her a video. Because she had been using a screen recording app to create content for Facebook, Ngoc had saved the conversation from the group call. Below it, Ngoc had sent another message with three large, red question marks:
"Slow it down and listen, you guys. Is it telling me DON'T LOOK AT THE MOON???"
(End of Part 1)
To be continued...