"You're late!" Sakura stood with both hands on her waist with her face full of dissatisfaction.
"We already cleaned half the store," Tashiro added. He waa crouching with his shirt soaked in sweat.
"Sorry, sorry, my bad. The train was late," Mallory said as he set his bag down and loosened his school shirt, leaving only his plain white undershirt.
Sakura and Tashiro were ten-year-old twins, both were Mallory's niece and nephew. Mallory had been living with them and their parents : his aunt and uncle, along with his grandfather.
Today, they had promised to clean out the old storehouse behind the house.
"You're treating us later for this!" Sakura demanded.
"Alright, alright. I will. Let's just finish the cleaning first." Mallory grunted as he carried a heavy box outside, where his uncle's lorry would later haul everything to the garbage center.
"Why are there so many things here? Is this all your family's stuff?" Mallory asked.
"Not really. Some are from Grandmother and Grandfather. And from their parents. And their parents. And their parents," Tashiro explained earnestly.
"Okay, okay, I get it already. Just say it's from your predecessors," Mallory chuckled.
"Pre-de-cess-or?" Tashiro tilted his head, puzzled.
"It's predecessor," Sakura corrected with a smirk. "Your Japanese is getting pretty good now, Uncle Mal. Not bad for someone who's only been in Japan two years." She gave him a big thumbs-up.
"Of course. I'm a genius, after all."
Sakura rolled her eyes.
As they continued cleaning, Mallory's attention caught on something unusual, a rectangular box tucked away behind the piles of old belongings.
"What's this?" He picked it up and examined it closely, brushing off the dust before trying to pry it open.
"Dad's here!" Tashiro suddenly shouted.
"Ohh, coming." Mallory quickly slipped the box into his pocket.
Fifteen minutes later, everything had been loaded onto the lorry.
"Good job, everyone! Tonight I'll buy us something delicious for dinner," Matsuda, the father of twins and Mallory uncle, said with a satisfied grin.
"Yay!" both Tashiro and Sakura cheered in unison.
Mallory just smiled. He had grown used to this family, and in his heart, they already felt like his own.
Once Matsuda's lorry drove off, Mallory turned to the twins.
"I'll head out for a while. Tell your mom I'll be back before dinner," he said, stepping toward the house.
"Roger!" Sakura gave a playful salute.
"Where's Uncle Mal going, Sakura?" Tashiro asked.
"You've been living with him for two years and you still ask that every time? He's going to the cemetery, of course, to visit his mother's grave."
---
Red Stone Cemetery
Mallory knelt before his mother's grave, both his hands clasped in prayer. He had lost her to a mysterious illness that no doctor or hospital had ever been able to diagnose. At just forty years old, she had finally succumbed to death, leaving him behind at the age of fourteen in England. His father had long since abandoned them, leaving Mallory with only her.
Her final wish had been simple, to be buried in Japan, and for Mallory to live with her sister, since there were no relatives left in England.
Two years had passed since then. Visiting her grave had become his quiet evening ritual.
"Mom, I hope you're doing well… wherever you are. Please watch over me here, too."
He brushed the dust from her gravestone with gentle care before standing. As he turned to leave, a chill swept over him, prickling the back of his neck.
It wasn't unusual. From his very first visit, he had always felt it, that strange, cold sensation, as though unseen eyes were watching him. And every time, he forced himself not to look back, simply walking away.
There's no such thing as ghosts, he reminded himself, as always.
---
Later that night.
"Thank you for the meal!"
"This roast chicken is delicious, honey! Where did you buy it?" Minako asked with a warm smile. Mallory's aunt, she was in her mid-thirties nearing forty, yet still carried herself with striking beauty.
"I bought it at a new place. Here, Mallory, don't be shy, have some more." Matsuda placed another piece of chicken on Mallory's plate.
"Thanks, Uncle!" Mallory said, his words muffled as he chewed.
Across the table, Tashiro and Sakura munched quietly on their food.
"How's the shop, Uncle? Is business running smoothly?" Mallory asked. Matsuda ran an electrical store in town.
Matsuda sighed. "Not really, to be honest. Fewer and fewer customers are coming by. Sometimes I wonder if they can even see my shop at all…"
"What are you saying at the dinner table, honey? And you too, Mal, eat first, talk later." Minako shook her head gently before turning. "Sakura, bring this food to your grandfather's room."
"Ehh? Why always me? Why not Tashiro? Grandpa stinks," Sakura pouted.
"Sakura!" Minako's voice sharpened just a little.
"It's fine, Aunt. I'll bring it to him," Mallory said quickly, rising from his seat. He carried the tray toward the room beside the kitchen.
"Grandpa, I'm coming in," Mallory called softly as he slid the door open.
Inside, his grandfather sat in a wheelchair. Hie eyes were distant and staring blankly at an old photograph of his late wife. He had been this way for nearly fifteen years, ever since Mallory's grandmother passed.
"Grandpa, I'll feed you, okay?"
His grandfather gave no response. He was like a lifeless doll with a heartbeat with only his mouth moved slowly, chewing the food. Mallory patiently and gently fed him each bite, careful not to spill.
When he was finished, Mallory left the plate in the kitchen and went upstairs to his room. While preparing his books for school the next day, a sudden thought struck him. He recalled the small box from earlier that evening.
He pulled it from his pocket and set it on the floor. The box was red, with strange Japanese writing across the cover.
"What the hell does this say?" Mallory muttered. He still wasn't good at reading Japanese, especially Kanji.
So, he grabbed his phone, snapped a photo, and ran it through a translation app.
"Do not open."
"So that's what it means, huh?" Mallory smirked. "Well, when you tell someone not to do something, that usually makes them want to do it even more."
Ignoring the warning, he lifted the lid. Inside was only a single folded piece of paper.
Mallory unfolded the paper. On it was a strange diagram, almost a circle, but with jagged corners. Inside the shape were unknown symbols which lookee like it was drawn by hand in uneven strokes.
"What is this? Some kind of ritual or what?" he muttered.
Without thinking, he placed his hand in the center of the diagram.
Nothing happened.
"Tch. What a waste of time. I'd better sleep now."
He tossed the paper aside, jumped onto his bed, and drifted off almost instantly.
In the middle of the night, the diagram began to glow. A deep crimson light spread from its lines, filling the room with a sinister red glow. Mallory, however, slept like a log, did not notice everything at all.
---
"FINALLY, AFTER HUNDREDS OF YEARS, I AM FREE!"
Chains shattered in the darkness as an ancient creature was released at last.