The forest was unnaturally silent.
Roxy walked carefully, the beam of his torch slicing through the thick darkness. The air felt heavy, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath. Just minutes ago, he had received a call—no voice, no explanation—only a location. Something inside him warned him not to come.
Yet here he was.
His foot suddenly struck something hard.
He stumbled forward, heart pounding. The torch slipped from his hand and rolled across the ground, its light stopping at his feet.
A bone.
Roxy froze.
His breath caught in his throat as fear crept up his spine. His hands trembled as he bent slightly, staring at it. This wasn't an animal bone. He knew that instinctively.
The forest remained silent.
No wind.
No footsteps.
No sound at all.
Then—
A hand grabbed him from behind.
"Ahhh!" Roxy screamed. "Leave me!"
⸻
One month earlier…
Roxy had just turned twenty-seven.
He was the kind of man people noticed instantly—sharp, expressive eyes, soft lips, and an effortless charm. During his university days, he was admired by many and envied by some. Confident, carefree, and reckless at times, he lived life without looking back.
But that life was over.
After completing his studies abroad, Roxy returned to his hometown with a clear goal—to settle down and help develop the town that had shaped his childhood.
The town looked smaller than Roxy remembered.
As the bus slowed near the familiar rusted signboard, he leaned closer to the window. The letters were faded, some barely visible, but the name was still there—unchanged, like it had been waiting for him all these years. He hadn't planned on coming back. Not like this.
The bus stopped. The doors opened with a tired hiss.
Roxy stepped down onto the cracked road, his bag slung over one shoulder. The air felt heavier here, thick with dust and old memories. Nothing had changed, yet everything felt wrong.
The first person he went to meet was Stalin.
Stalin was his childhood best friend. Mute since birth, physically weak, and often suffering from severe headaches, yet far stronger in spirit than most people Roxy knew. Despite his limitations, Stalin now owned a small music store and could play nearly every instrument inside it.
Ten long years had passed since they last met.
Yet the moment Roxy saw him, it felt like no time had passed at all.
Roxy watched silently as Stalin played the keyboard, his fingers moving effortlessly, filling the room with warmth and nostalgia. Music had always been the language they shared—the one place where words were unnecessary.
"You should see another doctor," Roxy finally said, his voice low with concern. "These headaches… they're getting worse."
Stalin stopped playing and looked at him. He gave a faint smile and slowly shook his head.
"I know you've tried," Roxy said, frustration creeping into his voice. "But I won't give up, Stalin. We'll find out what's wrong. I promise."
Stalin nodded, gratitude shining in his eyes.
That promise would soon be tested in ways Roxy never imagined.
⸻
Later that evening, Roxy returned home.
"Maa," he called softly, knocking on the door.
The moment his mother opened it and saw him, she broke down. She pulled him into a tight embrace, tears soaking his shirt.
"You're home," she sobbed. "You're really home."
"I'm here now," Roxy said gently. "I won't leave again."
Her happiness faded just as quickly as it appeared.
"Maa… where's Dad?" he asked. "And how's my sister?"
She turned away.
The silence frightened him.
"Maa?" he asked again.
Her voice trembled as she finally spoke. "Your father… he's upstairs. The last room."
Something snapped inside Roxy.
He ran upstairs and pushed the door open.
The room was dark.
And there, chained to the wall, was his father.
Roxy's heart shattered.
"Dad?" he whispered.
His father lifted his head slowly, eyes hollow, face drained of life. He recoiled in fear, unable to recognize his own son.
"Don't go near him!" his mother screamed from behind. "He'll hurt you!"
Roxy turned to her, shock flooding his face. "What happened to him?"
She collapsed to the floor, crying uncontrollably.
"Because of your sister's death," she cried. "Everything broke after that."
Roxy stood frozen.
His sister was dead.
And nothing in his life would ever be the same again.