Chapter 1
I’ve stopped counting how many times I’ve been rejected.
Each rejection feels like another stone added to the weight pressing on my chest. I can’t even believe this is my life now. I’m tired—tired of pretending I’m fine, tired of hoping things will change.
I worked harder than anyone I know. I became the top of my class. I built projects that left people speechless. And still—here I am, standing alone at an empty bus stop, watching the snow swallow the world in silence.
How am I supposed to face my mother again? She’ll smile, she’ll try to comfort me, but her eyes… those eyes full of pity—I can’t stand them anymore.
John closed his journal, letting out a long, hollow breath.
The screech of a car horn cut through the night. A shiny red convertible stopped right in front of him, its roof open despite the freezing air. Inside were three guys, laughing loudly.
One of them—a blonde with sharp green eyes—looked straight at John with a smirk.
“Hey, John! Long time no see, man. Since graduation, right? Damn, look at you.”
John didn’t answer. He just stared back in silence.
The guy leaned on the door. “Guys, this is John—my college buddy. The genius. The one who helped me pass every exam while I was out partying.” He laughed, then added, “Funny how things turn out. I’m now managing one of my dad’s projects… and John here’s still looking for any job he can find. Life’s cruel, huh?”
The laughter from the car echoed like knives in John’s head. He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, but he said nothing.
He simply turned away, walking into the park as the snow fell thicker around him. He didn’t even notice the bus pulling in.
The park was nearly deserted. Only one figure sat on a bench—an old man, hunched over, staring at the ground. John walked past him, but the man suddenly grabbed his wrist.
“Please,” the man whispered, voice trembling, “help me. Free me from this.”
“What are you talking about? Let go of me!”
The man’s grip tightened. “Not until you accept my curse.”
“What? You’re insane! Let me go!”
“Say it!” the man shouted, eyes wide with desperation. “Say you’ve accepted my curse, and I’ll let you go.”
John struggled, shaking his arm. “Fine! I accept your damn curse! Just let go!”
The old man froze. His cloudy eyes filled with sorrow.
“I’m sorry… John,” he whispered.
John froze in shock. “How do you know my name?”
But before he could ask, the man was gone—disappeared as if the snow had swallowed him whole.
Still shaken, John hurried home. On his way, he saw Emily, his twenty-two-year-old neighbor, standing outside her gate. She was holding a black plastic bag with two glass bottles clinking inside. Her brown hair shimmered under the streetlight; her skin pale against the white snow, her beauty fragile and haunting.
“Emily,” he called.
She turned sharply, her eyes full of worry. Then she smiled, forcing calm.
“Oh, John. I didn’t see you there. I’m sorry, I have to go home now.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just… need to go.”
He frowned and gently pulled her sleeve. Beneath it, her arms were covered with bruises.
“Did he hit you again?” he asked, voice shaking with anger.
Tears gathered in her eyes. “Please, John. Don’t. Just go home. I’ll be fine.”
Before he could speak again, she ran into the house, slamming the door behind her.
John stood there, motionless, the snow falling harder around him until his hair was dusted white.
When he finally reached home, the lights were on. His mother waited at the table, a plate of hot food untouched before her.
Her black hair framed a face that looked too young for her fifty-two years. Her eyes—dark, kind, and endlessly tired—searched his face.
“You didn’t get it, did you?” she asked softly.
John said nothing. She smiled faintly, trying to sound hopeful.
“It’s alright, my dear. Things will get better. Life always finds a—”
“Stop it, Mother,” John interrupted, his voice cold. “You talk about justice, but what justice? There’s none for people like us.”
Her lips parted, hurt flickering in her eyes, but she said nothing more. John turned away and went to his room, collapsing on his bed. He didn’t want to think, or dream—just sleep.
But sleep didn’t come easy.
He woke up suddenly. The air felt heavy, the light dim and strange. Shadows stretched across the walls even though the lamp was off. Outside the window, the streetlights glowed—but cast no light.
“Mom?” he called.
No answer.
Then, from his mother’s room, came raised voices—one of them unmistakably male.
His father’s.
John’s heart froze. His father had been dead for years.
He pushed the door open. Inside, his mother was crying, shouting at the man standing before her.
“Leave my son alone!” she screamed.
John’s breath caught in his throat. “Dad?”
His father turned toward him, eyes burning with something inhuman.
John stumbled backward, tripping over the hallway rug before bolting out of the house. The icy air cut into his skin as he ran barefoot into the snow.
Then—a scream. Emily’s voice.
He ran to her house. The front door was wide open. Inside, Emily sat on the floor, arms around her knees, trembling. Her father stood over her, belt raised, his face twisted with rage.
“Stop!” John yelled, grabbing a wooden rod from the corner and swinging it with all his strength. It hit the man’s face with a sickening crack. He fell to the floor, blood spilling across the tiles.
Emily looked up at John, tears glistening. Then her expression changed—calm, distant, cold.
“He’s coming,” she whispered. “Run.”
The lights flickered. Then everything went black.
Emily was gone. Her father too. The house was silent.
John took a step back, trembling. At the end of the hallway, something moved—a tall, black figure, too large to be human, standing perfectly still. Then it began to run toward him.
John turned and ran for his life, heart hammering. He burst into his room and slammed the door shut, pressing his body against it as the pounding began.
“Leave me alone!” he shouted, tears burning his eyes.
The knocking grew louder—then violent. The wood began to crack.
Desperate, John banged his head against the wall, trying to wake up, to end it—but nothing changed. The door finally burst open—
And then—
Light.
His mother’s voice.
“John! Wake up!”
He gasped, sitting up in bed, his whole body drenched in sweat.
“Oh, thank God,” he whispered. “You woke me from the worst nightmare I’ve ever had.”
His mother’s face was pale. “John, there’s no time. You need to go see Emily.”
“What? Why?”
Her voice trembled. “Her father… he’s dead.”
John froze. The room felt colder than before, the world suddenly too quiet.
The nightmare wasn’t over. It had just begun.
