From behind the window, the rain had ceased, and the full moon appeared in a sky filled with stars. Its silvery glow reflected off the tightly shut glass, keeping the cold from seeping inside. In the quiet room, nothing could be heard except the steady breathing of the sleeping children and the television, which continued playing the same movie over and over, as if repeating an endless story. Until, suddenly, it went dark, the screen turning completely black, broken only by the faint reflection of a man in his late twenties.
His short blond hair was messy, and his blue eyes, tinged with black, looked drowsy with the day's exhaustion. He rose slowly after turning off the television and glanced at the clock, its hands striking midnight. Then he turned to his children and wife, who had all drifted off to sleep where they sat—some sprawled across their mother, others beside her. The corners of his lips lifted in a gentle smile at the serene sight.
The father remembered it was fortunate that tomorrow was a holiday. Gathering his strength, he began carrying the children one by one. He started with Luian, Annie, and Elene, lifting them carefully so as not to wake them, and placed them in their room. Then he returned for Elliot and Keito, carrying them into the room next door. The children's bedroom doors faced their parents' room, as though all their hearts were connected in love and protection. After finishing, and as he closed the door to Elliot and Keito's room, he turned back, ready to carry his wife. But he found her wide awake, eyes fixed on him.
"Did you make sure they're well covered? It's cold," the mother asked, rising to her feet and pacing quietly toward the window. Moonlight reflected in her crimson eyes, like blood, and on her long black hair, its ends tinged with a faint pink. Her gentle, elegant features gave no hint that she, too, was in her late twenties.
"Of course, don't worry, my dear. I also made sure they were sound asleep," he replied, sitting on the sofa, his tone shifting into seriousness.
"We stayed out too late today. I didn't think the mission would take so long," she said, her face marked by weariness.
"Yes, it was exhausting, but worth it," the father answered with tired certainty, leaning his head back against the sofa.
"None of this would've happened if that fool had given us the information beforehand. Ah, I can't wait to smash his face!" she said angrily, clenching her fists.
"You'll see him tomorrow. Take your anger out on him," the father said, rubbing his face with his hands in fatigue, then added, looking at her, "I won't stop you this time. It was dangerous, and we kept the children waiting far too long. We should've returned three hours ago."
"At last, I'll get to break that face… hahaha!" the mother said with a vicious grin and a wicked laugh, already imagining tomorrow.
"Just make sure you don't send him to the hospital. We need him to tell us what he knows. Oh, I never thought I'd say this, but I think he's become part of the family. The children have grown attached to him. I just hope he doesn't encourage them to do reckless things," the father said, his voice heavy with tiredness and resignation.
"Well, I'll be sure to tell him tomorrow—when I break his face—not to encourage the kids, though I know full well that whether anyone encourages them or not, they'll do whatever comes into their heads. No one can change that," she replied with a sarcastic tone, glancing at her husband as if asking: And whose trait do you think that is?
"I suppose it's the one trait I wish they hadn't inherited from us," he said, smiling with a hint of irony.
"Hahaha, well, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, isn't that what they say?" she laughed, watching his expression.
The father sighed, smiling at his wife's laughter, confirming her words. But within moments, his expression shifted.
"What? What is it?" Eri asked nervously, noticing the sudden change in his face.
"Despite today's long mission, we got what we came for," the father said with a knowing look.
"No… don't tell me you actually managed to extract the information from them?" Eri asked, her face a mixture of shock and surprise. His serious expression confirmed her thoughts, and the question rose in her mind: But when did you manage that?
"I got it while you were dealing with the guards and the others. It wasn't hard to get one of them to talk," the father said, pulling a small white slip of paper from his pocket and handing it to Eri, who took it eagerly. When she opened it, she saw a set of strange numbers, symbols that looked like codes. She turned to ask her husband about them, but he cut her off when he saw her expression.
"Ah, before you ask where I got it… that guard told me most of the main information was in the room and directed me to it. I found this while tearing the place apart. So, it points either to a location or to a house," Asher said, watching his wife's face shift from fear to excitement.
"Oh, speaking of that, did you put everything back in place?" Eri asked nervously, pacing to the sofa and sitting down.
"Don't worry, you know I'm not the type to leave a mess behind," Asher answered with a reassuring smile.
"Do you have any idea how to decipher these codes?" Eri asked, turning the paper between her fingers, studying the mix of letters and numbers with confusion. She looked around and began gathering the scattered dishes on the table.
"I already took a picture of it, and I'll send it to her to decode for us," Asher said, rising slowly to help her clear the dessert table. At that moment, when she turned her eyes on him, her gaze was full of surprise and excitement.
"Her?" she whispered, barely audible, then shouted with excitement: "Haaah?! She's back from her trip? When? And why didn't she call me?"
Asher's eyes gleamed with a warm smile as he watched her joyful face. "She only arrived an hour ago. I'd already taken a photo of the codes, so when she messaged saying she was on her way here, I sent it to her immediately. I think she's eager to see you and the children. She's only heard about them—this will be her first time meeting them."
"Oh my God, tomorrow after work we're going shopping!" Eri said firmly, her eyes sparkling with determination as she placed the dishes in the sink. "I need to buy new clothes for them. It's their first meeting, and I want them to look their best. Oh, and the same goes for you—you're coming with us!"
He gave her a look of protest but surrendered quickly. "My dear, don't look at me like that. It's not that I don't want to go or buy clothes. It's just that we don't need more. Their closets are already overflowing."
"No, this is an important occasion, and it calls for new clothes. Either way, you're coming with us tomorrow, agreed?" she said with a terrifying look, like a challenge that allowed no refusal.
"All right, all right… fine. I promise," Asher said, raising his hands in surrender, glancing at the dishwasher as it beeped softly to signal the end of the cycle. Quickly, he changed the subject back to the mission: "Anyway, what do you think? Where do these codes point?"
Eri's expression grew serious, her brow furrowed in thought. "Aska, Rimeena, Bani… these are the three cities most of our investigations point to. But there's a problem."
"You've concluded these cities have been quiet lately, or that even though the investigations called them strange, nothing unusual has actually been observed, right?" Asher asked skeptically, returning the clean dishes to their places.
"Yes, that's right…" she whispered, staring at him with a complex look. "But that's fine. Even if they're underground, we'll find them, strike them, and bury them again," she said coldly, putting the last plate away.
Asher sighed deeply. "Tomorrow for tomorrow, today for today. We need to take care of the present, so we need to rest. Tomorrow will be exhausting," he said, lowering his voice as he remembered he'd have to join Eri for the shopping trip.
"That's why I told you tomorrow will be exhausting!" Eri said with a broad smile as she walked toward the bedroom. Asher smiled back at her. When Eri closed the bedroom door, the house sank into heavy silence. Only the ticking of the clock and the steady breaths of the children remained, the entire scene like a perfect painting of peace—as though drawing the curtains on a tiring day.
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But… the television suddenly flickered.
A cold blue flash bathed the walls for an instant, distorting the shadows as if they moved on their own. The screen showed no movie, no channel, only jagged black-and-white static, like noise from some place unknown to humans.
Then came the sound.
It wasn't an ordinary sound, but a distorted, guttural whisper echoing from every corner of the room:
"Hel… p… me… s…a… ve… ussshhhhh—"
The words weren't coming from the speakers, but from the very walls of the house. The air grew heavy, a strange chill spreading, even the children's breaths slowing… as though someone was watching them.
And suddenly, the screen went black.
Darkness returned, but the silence that followed wasn't natural—it was thick, charged with hidden threat, as if the world itself had paused for a moment.
Among it all, only the children's breathing remained.
But it no longer carried comfort… it sounded fragile, like brittle tapping, a chilling reminder of how defenseless they were against what was coming.
The bedroom door swung open suddenly and swiftly. Asher stepped out on tiptoe, his expression completely changed—the mocking smile from earlier gone, replaced with a stern, serious look. In his blue eyes burned a mix of alertness and unease, as though bracing for a fight. His gaze swept over the children's room, the living room, every corner of the house, as if seeing something no one else could.
"What is it?" Eri whispered as she stepped out behind him, her eyes now cold and sharp. Her expression was graver than when speaking of their dangerous mission, as though she could feel the threat closing in.
"Did you hear that?" Asher asked in a voice low as a breath.
"Yes, I heard it. It didn't come from the speakers. It felt like it was coming from the walls," Eri replied flatly, as if commenting on the weather.
They moved cautiously, checking every corner. Asher looked behind the sofa, Eri beneath the dessert table—but nothing. The TV was off, its screen black as midnight. No source of the sound, no explanation.
"Nothing…" Asher muttered, confusion overtaking him. "Maybe we imagined it from exhaustion. It was a long day."
Eri stopped searching and stood in the middle of the room, staring into nothing. "Maybe… but my senses don't lie," she said quietly, then turned to him. "Come, let's go back inside. We need to sleep."
They returned to the bedroom, closing the door behind them. Silence fell again, but it was no ordinary silence—it was heavy, laced with doubt.
And as soon as they lay down, the TV screen glimmered once more.
This time, not a blue flash, but a drawing. A strange eye, sketched as though in pencil across the screen. It stared straight toward the children's room. It didn't move. It didn't change. It only watched.
The whole scene resembled a chilling painting—silent, still, stealing the breath from the room. But this painting was far from perfect. The eye's gaze was cold, empty of all feeling, tracking its prey from afar, waiting for the right moment to strike.
And nothing could be heard. Not the walls. Not even the children's small breaths. Everything stopped—except that eye, watching…..