Unit-1
A girl chained by her past was locked inside a room. A faint click echoed, and light sliced through the darkness. Sofia saw her father standing before her. He spoke coldly,
"You… are a mistake."
Suddenly, Sofia was struck. She looked up and saw her mother. Her voice was just as merciless.
"You… are a mistake."
Sofia blinked—and the place changed. She now stood on the peak of a mountain. Her brother faced her, his words heavy with hatred.
"If you were never born, Mother would never have been treated like this. You… are a mistake."
Again, the world shifted.
This time, she stood inside a house. Her grandfather and uncles surrounded her, all speaking in unison,
"You… are a mistake."
Confusion consumed her. Before she could understand what was happening, the ground vanished beneath her feet. She fell into a deep, endless darkness. Voices echoed all around her—countless voices, all repeating the same sentence:
"You… are a mistake."
Trauma overwhelmed her mind.
Suddenly, she was nowhere.
She looked around and saw a church. Slowly, she stepped inside and began to pray. A voice answered her prayers. She turned—and froze.
Jesus Christ stood before her.
"You… are a mistake."
Once again, the world collapsed.
Wait—
She was in her house.
Her father rushed towards her, holding a knife. Just as he came close, he vanished into thin air.
Sofia gasped and opened her eyes. It was not a dream—it was a delusion born from her shattered past.
Then she felt something strange.
Someone was touching her back.
No—someone was licking her back.
It was George.
"Ahaa!!" Sofia screamed.
George ignored her cry. His attention was fixed elsewhere.
"The blood of yours is delicious and adorable!" George shouted.
He had wiped her back where it was injured, and blood had surfaced. George licked the blood calmly.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Sofia shouted.
George burst into laughter.
"I am not the kind of man who is interested in minors, but… your blood is special. The blood of the Wings family."
Sofia stared at him in shock.
"What the hell is Wings, huh? A fucking surname with fucked-up people?"
"Oh, so you use harsh words now? Hahaha, forget it. You want to know the history—but first, let me answer your earlier question." George's voice turned calm.
"What I did to your family? Nothing. But that doesn't mean I won't do anything. I will. I have a plan."
George continued proudly,
"My first step was stealing you and John from your family. Then… the most important part—I destroy you completely. You become my art, like the others who live in my PARADISE."
"Then I send you back to your family. I know your family doesn't love you—at all. But this isn't about them. It's about the screams. When people see your broken body and realise your family failed to protect you, they lose trust in them."
"Then I destroy your family one by one—mother, brother, grandfather. Hahaha!"
A voice suddenly echoed from outside the house.
"Mr Willson! A patient needs your help. Can you hear me, Doctor Willson?"
"I think I need to go, Sofia. When I come back, I'll tell you about your surname—Wings," George whispered.
Within seconds, George vanished as if he had never been there.
Sofia's heart raced.
"I'm trapped… how do I get out of here?"
Suddenly, she noticed a man in the distance. He ran towards her at terrifying speed and leapt—
"Are you there, Dr Willson?" an unknown man asked.
"Oh my God, please call me by my name, Mr Ashford," George replied.
Ashford smiled.
"Then please call me by my first name, Mr Willson."
"Alright, Mr Edward Ashford—but you must call me George," George said.
"Okay, Mr George Willson," Edward replied.
"So where are we needed today?" George asked.
"Roseberry II," Edward answered.
"Roseberry II?" George repeated.
"It's a long story. First, let's attend to the patient," Edward said.
"Alright, but wait—I forgot my tools," George replied.
George went inside and returned with his tools. Edward was already waiting beside the carriage.
"Come, Mr George," Edward said.
"Wait, Mr Edward. I'm not a young man anymore, hahaha," George replied.
They both laughed.
George sat inside the carriage, and they began their journey towards Roseberry II.
Unit–2
"So, how was your journey to Ironrest, Mr. George?" Edward asked.
"First of all, don't call me Mr. Just say George," he replied. "And about Ironrest… who told you that I've been there in the past few weeks?"
"I think you're getting old, George," Edward said with a grin. "Don't you remember? You told me you were going to Ironrest. One branch of the Wings family called you for help. What was your patient's name… John, am I right?"
George smiled and laughed softly. "So you think I'm getting old now, huh? Haha. Ironrest is a very fine place. And yes, you're right—the patient's name is John. But why are you suddenly asking about Ironrest?"
Edward's expression changed to shock. "You don't know what happened in Ironrest?"
George felt a strange excitement inside him. People were talking about Ironrest… and about what he had done there.
"What happened to Ironrest, Edward?" he asked calmly.
"Ironrest was hit by a bomb attack!"
George froze. "What… a bomb attack?" His shock was genuine—he was not responsible for this destruction.
"Yes. Some rumors say it was done by business competitors. Others believe the main branch of the Wings family was involved in the blast," Edward explained.
"Oho, thank God you left before the bombing, George," Edward said.
But George remained silent. Inside his mind, one thought echoed clearly—his plan had failed, because Ironrest had already been destroyed.
Narrator: If George was not behind the bomb blast… then who was?
"This world is truly cruel," George muttered. "By the way, Edward, tell me the story of Roseberry II. Our destination is still far."
"Why not?" Edward said. "Long ago, Roseberry stood as a single, united, and flourishing town—known for its harmony and shared identity. But as time passed and the outside world began to change, differences slowly emerged among its people.
"One faction believed Roseberry must evolve—open its gates to trade, welcome new ideas, and connect with the wider world. To them, progress was not a threat, but a necessity.
"The other faction feared this change. They believed evolution would erase their ancestors' traditions, that foreign influence would weaken their values, and that trade would strip away Roseberry's cultural beauty. To them, preservation meant survival—and progress meant loss.
"At first, these beliefs existed only as debates. But debates turned into resentment, resentment into hostility, and hostility into violence. The streets that once echoed with unity were soon stained by conflict, until the civil struggle finally ended. By then, Roseberry could no longer remain whole.
"Those who embraced progress left behind the past and rebuilt their future, renaming their settlement Roseberry I. Those who rejected change withdrew and formed a separate town, officially recorded as Roseberry II, determined to preserve the old ways exactly as they were."
"Oh, that's quite a story," George said. "So basically, now we're heading back to the Stone Age."
They both laughed.
"Here we are," Edward said.
They stepped out of the carriage—but Edward suddenly noticed something strange. Every villager of Roseberry II had already gathered. All of them were staring at George. Their bodies trembled with fear.
George, however, was smiling.
Unit – 3
"Why are they all here?" Edward asked.
George didn't answer.
Edward noticed George's eyes—wide, shining with something strange. Fear… and beneath it, a quiet thrill. George whispered to himself, barely audible,
"Yes… yes…"
"George… Mr. George… MR. WILLSON!" Edward shouted.
George snapped back. "Yes—yes. Let's go. Show me where the patient is."
Within minutes, they entered the town. The streets were silent. People stood watching, unmoving, their eyes fixed on George. They stopped in front of an old house.
Edward began reading from his notes.
"Name: Harvard Greywolf.
Age: twenty-nine. Symptoms include difficulty breathing and seizures. These are the patient's detai—"
He stopped.
"…Wait. Why are they all lying on the floor? George, something is wrong."
Before Edward could finish, realization hit him like a blade.
George, however, didn't react. No fear. No surprise.
His expression twisted—like someone who had finally found what he was searching for. His body trembled, emotions threatening to burst out of him.
Then Edward froze.
George began chanting.
The patient slowly lowered his head, as if overwhelmed by guilt… or regret.
The room went dead silent.
Suddenly, George spoke
"Shí bitsʼáadah tʼáá íiyisí doo náníłʼį́ʼ da nitsáhákees?
Tʼáá shí éí hólǫ́.
Kʼééhgo nitsáhákees éí nizhónígo naʼniłkaad dooleeł.
Nihí shicheii Diyin Dinéʼé bíkááʼ dahashá."
meaning
("You believe you can escape my paradise?
You never had a choice.
Punishment is your destined path.
I speak under the authority of the Holy Ones of our ancestors.")
The air changed.
The walls felt closer. The ground seemed to breathe.
The patient began to shake violently.
George stepped forward.
A villager approached and placed a knife into George's hand—reverently, like an offering.
George didn't hesitate.
Moments later, he cast the knife aside and rose, his face calm… satisfied.
He shouted,
"Diyin Dinéʼé yiníłʼį́."
Meaning
("You are one of the Holy People.")
Then George slowly turned his head and looked straight at Edward.
Edward couldn't move.
Couldn't speak.
And in that moment, he understood—
This wasn't a medical visit.
Unit – 4
"What the hell did you do with him?!" Edward shouted.
George only smiled. He didn't answer.
Instead, George turned toward the door and pulled it open.
A strange, rotten smell spilled into the room, thick enough to make Edward gag. George stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
Minutes passed.
When George returned, Edward froze.
George was no longer wearing his normal clothes.
A dark, long coat hung from his shoulders. A wolf pelt rested over one side of his body, its head lifeless and staring. Around his neck hung a necklace made of animal teeth, and his hands were covered in rough gloves stained with something dark.
George looked straight at Edward.
"People like you…" he said slowly, his voice sharp, "people who try to save others for no reason—"
His smile twisted.
"I really hate that kind of person."
Then he spoke in Navajo, his voice low and commanding:
K'ad nihaa nahasdzáán nihá yáʼátʼééhgo baa náʼałtsoh dooleeł…
Nihí shicheii Diyin Dinéʼé, nihá níyol náhásdlį́į́ʼ, nihí tʼáá ajiłiiʼ nihá bidziil baa hózhǫ́ǫ́go shááh.
("Now you will become our sacrifice…
Holy ancestors of our people, accept our prayers and grant us strength.")
Edward's breath caught.
Suddenly, villagers grabbed him from behind. Their hands were rough, merciless. They dragged him forward and forced him to his knees before George.
Edward's voice trembled.
"Why are you doing this? I did nothing wrong."
George laughed softly.
"You're an asshole," he said coldly.
"I never liked people like you. I hate your presence."
He stepped closer.
"Do you know why Roseberry was divided?" George continued.
"Because the people of Roseberry I wanted to stop all of this."
His eyes burned with madness.
"When they were alone, they had no reason to live. I gave them one."
"I created a cult."
"Those who follow me live."
"Those who stand against me—die."
George leaned down, whispering:
"And you… you will be my sacrifice."
Edward screamed for help.
No one answered.
No one moved.
This had all been planned.
Later that night, George walked away in his normal clothes, calm and untouched, as if nothing had happened. He climbed into a carriage and left the village behind.
When he reached home, he opened the gate.
Blood stained the floor.
George's smile vanished.
He ran to the basement.
Sofia was not there.