Arthur sat in the FBI cafeteria, eating his sandwich.
Arthur Will, in his early thirties, had orange hair and blue eyes. He was an FBI agent.
Suddenly… he stopped chewing.
His gaze locked onto the juice box in front of him. Seconds passed. He didn't blink.
A shadow of sadness crept across his face.
A tall, dark-skinned man stood behind him.
"Hey… you alright?"
Arthur blinked several times, as if waking from a long dream. He turned toward the voice—it was Agent Michael. He forced a smile.
"Yeah… I'm fine. Why?"
Michael laughed.
"Have you seen your face? You look like you just had a stroke!"
Arthur smiled at the joke, but deep inside, he honestly wished he had—after hearing the rumors.
"Come on," Michael said. "The boss is waiting for us."
Arthur stood up, his heart pounding fast—too fast. From the cafeteria to the director's office, he kept repeating the same words in his head:
(I'm sorry… I can't do this. I have a little girl… and a wife. Find someone else.)
They entered the office. The director looked at them with a smile.
"Sit."
Arthur and Michael sat down. Arthur was so tense he didn't even notice there was someone else in the room. In one corner stood Agent Jimmy.
That's when Arthur knew—the rumors were true.
He was about to be dragged into the most dangerous mission imaginable.
The director's expression turned serious.
"We've found someone inside the Rockstar Organization… someone who can get our agents in."
Arthur's face stiffened. He swallowed hard and looked down.
"And," the director continued, "you two have been selected for this undercover mission… by Jimmy."
Michael looked excited.
Arthur couldn't understand why.
The Rockstar Organization was the most infamous—and most dangerous—criminal organization in the world. The U.S. government had failed four times to capture its leader. His identity remained unknown.
Drugs. Human trafficking. Gambling. Fraud.
And at the top of it all—a man considered the most dangerous in the world.
Sending in a double agent without being exposed…
That wasn't just difficult.
It was suicide.
Arthur glanced at Michael silently.
(Why the hell is he smiling?)
The director continued:
"Everything you hear here is classified."
Arthur lifted his gaze slightly, swallowing again. He gathered his courage.
(Now. I have to say it… or I'm dead.)
He raised his voice a little.
"Sir…"
The moment the director looked at him, all his courage vanished.
One serious look… was enough.
But then he remembered his daughter. Six years old.
His wife.
His expression changed.
Finally, the words came out, barely above a whisper:
"I'm sorry… I can't do this. I have a daughter… and a wife. Please… find someone else."
The director and Jimmy exchanged a glance.
Jimmy nodded.
The director stood and walked toward Arthur. Arthur kept his head down, staring at the floor, tense… waiting.
A hand rested on his shoulder.
"Alright… granted."
Arthur froze.
Did he hear that right?
He looked up. The director had already returned to his desk.
Calm. No anger. No disappointment.
"You may leave now, Arthur. Everything discussed here is classified."
Arthur stood.
"Yes, sir."
Then the director added, his tone sharp:
"Everything you heard in this room… stays in this room."
That tone said enough.
"Yes, sir."
Arthur left the office, barely able to hide his relief.
If he wasn't inside the building, he would've danced.
He didn't understand why he was chosen for such a mission…
but it didn't matter anymore.
He walked out of the building, humming happily, spinning his car keys. He got into his car and started the engine, heading home.
Music played on the radio, and Arthur sang along. He rolled the window down, letting in the calm summer breeze.
Then the song cut off.
"Good morning! What a beautiful day in Miami!"
Arthur smiled, glancing out the window.
"I love Miami."
The host continued:
"Can you believe it? It's been five years since the Dark Eclipse."
Arthur's head snapped toward the radio.
A chill ran down his spine.
Memories… he had buried deep.
12/08/20
Five years ago.
The whole world had been waiting for it—the longest eclipse in history. Thirty minutes.
Everyone was excited. Sunglasses on. Cameras pointed at the sky.
Then… it began.
Screams.
People collapsing. Car accidents everywhere.
People ran—terrified—running from something…
…but no one knew what.
Under that unnatural darkness, the chaos turned into something else.
Something like the end of the world.
When the eclipse ended, things calmed down…
but nothing was the same.
People claimed they saw spirits—ghosts—flying in the sky.
Others said they saw people who were supposed to be dead.
Some even claimed they saw living people… as ghosts. Transparent. Floating.
And others…
saw things that weren't human.
Everyone who lost consciousness that day said the same thing when they woke up:
Their soul had left their body.
They felt… free.
As if they could do anything.
A feeling beyond anything they had ever known.
And some…
used it.
One girl entered her father's office during the eclipse.
Her father confirmed it himself:
"Yes… fifteen minutes after it started, with all the chaos outside… I stayed inside. Then suddenly—my daughter walked through the wall. Floating. Right in front of me. It was real! I don't take drugs… I don't hallucinate… it was real, damn it!"
The eclipse was so abnormal… scientists still couldn't explain it.
But one theory spread among people:
That during that moment…
something opened.
Doors to other worlds.
And something… came through.
Arthur was twenty-five back then. Married for two years.
He saw everything here… in Miami.
Things he never wanted to remember.
Things he could never tell anyone.
Because no one would believe him.
Even now… people wait every year for it to happen again.
Just like today.
Arthur quickly switched the radio station and exhaled.
Then… he remembered her.
The old woman.
Black clothes. Silk dress. A large hat.
The woman who appeared before him that day.
Her words… still echoed in his mind:
"What a future awaits you…"
She floated closer. Arthur couldn't move. Fear froze him in place.
Then she laughed.
"You will die soon… hehehe. But don't worry… that won't be the worst thing in your life."
And then—
she vanished.
The scene had been so horrifying that Arthur had spent a long time seeing a psychologist, trying desperately to forget it.
He switched the radio station again and focused on the road leading to his home.
"I don't want to die," he whispered to himself.
A short while later, he arrived. He inserted the key, unlocked the door, and stepped inside.
Then he heard it—a laugh.
It sounded like his wife's.
It was noon. She shouldn't have been home yet.
Arthur froze.
He crept slowly toward the sound. On the table, he noticed keys he had never seen before. The laughter came from the bedroom.
He stood there, hands trembling. His body stiffened. His mind went blank.
He knew that if he opened the door… he would see something he never wanted to see.
He turned to leave.
Then, suddenly… the door swung open.
A man stepped out. He looked up—and froze when he saw Arthur.
"Oh… Arthur!"
Arthur's legs felt like they had vanished beneath him. The floor seemed to drop away.
He could hear his heart pounding in his ears… thump… thump… thump…
Silence engulfed the house.
He wished, with all his heart, that this was just a dream.
He slowly lifted his gaze toward the bedroom.
His wife lay on the bed, shock written all over her face. She hadn't expected to see him here, at this hour.
Arthur didn't move.
Just an hour ago, he had been thinking about something simple…
Coming home, preparing lunch for her after leaving that mission.
But what he saw now… shattered everything.
A calm… impossible, wished-it-was-all-a-dream kind of calm.
Then she emerged… in lingerie.
The image was clear.
This was why Arthur hadn't wanted to open the door.
He looked at the man, sadness in his eyes.
He remembered seeing him at work events with his wife, multiple times.
The man raised his hands, trying to explain, but Arthur remained frozen. His eyes didn't blink.
Arthur drew his gun… and aimed.
Bang!
Bang!
The man collapsed, blood spreading across the floor.
His wife screamed, a piercing, desperate cry:
"Please! Don't do this, Arthur!"
Arthur dropped the gun and ran from the house.
He sat outside, pulled a cigarette from his pocket, struck a match, and lit it.
Hands shaking, he smoked.
He thought of his daughter.
He pulled out his phone and called his father.
"Dad… listen. I want you to pick up Sarah from school today instead of us."
He hung up.
Then he called the police.
When they arrived, they arrested Arthur and took him to the station. He was placed in a cell.
An hour passed.
Arthur sat there, remembering every time he had seen his wife laughing with the same man at work events.
(How many times did she cheat on me…)
(It's all my fault… Pathetic. Weak.)
Boom!
Boom!
A loud banging came from the cell next door.
Arthur turned toward the noise.
Then he heard a voice:
"Blaming yourself won't help… only worse thoughts! Hahaha!"
The unknown man's laughter echoed through the hall.
Arthur stood.
"Who are you?!"
Bang!
The man slammed the wall twice.
"How did you hear me?" Arthur demanded.
The man laughed.
"You wouldn't believe how funny this book is… want to read it?"
Arthur didn't understand.
(A book? How does he have a book in a cell?)
He asked,
"Are you talking to me?"
The man laughed.
"Is there anyone else here?"
Then, a hand appeared from the neighboring cell, holding a book.
"Take it… this book is amazing," the man said.
Arthur reached out and grabbed it.
It was an old, red book with yellow letters on the cover:
MONICA
Arthur opened it, curiosity prickling his skin.
On the first page, a single sentence stared back at him:
"Can you kill a human being?"
Arthur burst into laughter.