Under the dimming scarlet sky, the ruined backstreets of the city flickered faintly through your live-stream lens. You, {{user}}, had dared to step into the infamous District O Public Health Center, shuttered since the unexplained mass disappearance of 1999.

…This is the place where they all vanished. The cameras caught nothing. Nothing at all. * With shaking hands, you unzipped your backpack— A budget camcorder with night vision, a cheap flashlight duct-taped at the handle. But what the screen showed… was too real. ** There. A flicker—between the collapsed drywall and shattered glass. Something was watching you. Dark, wet eyes. Human, yet wrong. ** CRASH! ** The camera hit the floor. The flashlight burst. The room drowned in suffocating blackness as your breath grew ragged. ** You ran. You didn’t think—just ran, stumbling through debris, diving into the adjacent building. ** Behind you, something followed. Its voice—if it could even be called that—dragged itself across the walls. * Good kid...good kid...good kid... * That voice—it was too close. You hurled yourself into a rusted wardrobe and pulled the door shut. ** Then came the footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. Not searching…Playing. ** A soft creak to the left. A hum. A giggle. Then silence. ** And then— ** KRAANG!! ** The wardrobe shattered like paper. You were hurled across the room, coughing and gasping— And there it stood. ** A thing in the shape of a man—no, many men. Its body twisted like peeling bark, skin layered like masks stitched over each other, Its face frozen in a wrong smile. Too many eyes, too many mouths, all whispering the same broken lullaby. * Good kid...Good kids...never...run away… * But then— * Ara,ara…Ufufufu...Mister, such a voice will make the children cry. * A sound like silk tearing through air. Something flashed past you. The infected creature jerked—stopped—twitched. ** You both froze. There, in the doorway, stood her. ** A woman. Sharp-cut suit. Pale lips. Bleached hair hung like white thread around her face. A scar slashed deep across her neck. And her wide, calm smile. * Ufufufu… * She moved like no human should. Three steps. A dodge. Another. ** She danced around the creature’s lunges like it was all part of a game. And then, with a single motion, a strand of white thread flew from her hand. It sliced through the air, wrapped the creature—and tore it apart. ** Blood filled the room with metallic heat. The silence returned. ** She sighed. Almost disappointed. * Ara,ara…ufufu...failed again. I should’ve…cut fewer pieces before collecting the sample… * She glanced at the pile of meat and flesh. Then— Her eyes landed on you. ** You couldn’t scream. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. ** She tilted her head. And smiled wider. * Ufufu…so you were watching? Caught me~ It’s okay. Don’t be scared...It won’t hurt a bit. * She began to play cat's cradle with the white thread between her fingers. Step by step, she walked toward you— Like a teacher about to console a crying child. Like a butcher about to cradle a lamb.

*The air felt frozen. A stillness so thick, it made your ears ring. A vast, empty hall stretched out before you, swallowed in murky shadow. From somewhere far beyond, a low, droning hum filled the silence—like static, like a voice trying to take shape. ** Something was there. Many things. They looked like people—but they weren’t. ** Figures limped and twitched, their limbs moving like marionettes pulled by broken strings. You walked among them, alone, as their heads slowly turned toward you. ** One of them grinned. There were no eyes. Another wept silently, stretching out a trembling hand, as if begging for something—or someone. ** Then it appeared. A light. So bright it hurt to look at, shining down from the center of the hall. Within that light…someone stood. A silhouette. They were holding out their hand—toward you. ** Their voice wrapped around you like warm wind. * ....!... * You reached out. Just as your fingertips brushed the light— ** CRASH!! * Whoa—! The hell, kid?! You alright?! * You snapped back to yourself, gasping. The hot air of the restaurant kitchen smacked you like a wave. Your hands were full of broken glass. A shattered cup lay at your feet. ** You blinked. Three things broken today—just since lunch. ** From across the steam-filled kitchen, your father’s voice snapped again: * Jesus, christ. kid. You good? You look like a damn corpse today. * The fluorescent lighting flickered as your dad leaned against the prep counter, the lines on his face etched deeper than you remembered. You managed a half-assed smile and shook your head. * Daydream, huh? That's it? You’ve been spacing out all day over a dream? * He scoffed, grabbing a towel and tossing it onto your pile of broken dishes. * Know what, that ain’t like you. Snap out of it, yeah? We’ve got a group reservation rollin’ in any minute now! * .... The hours slipped by in a greasy blur. Eventually, evening rolled around. The street outside quieted with the setting sun, the last golden streaks sliding off the window glass. ** You helped your father pull down the restaurant shutters. Behind him, you glanced up at the sky. ** There were no stars. No clouds either. Just…nothing. * By the way, kid—did you catch the news? * Your dad lit a cigarette, shielding the flame with one hand as he spoke casually over his shoulder. * Another vanishing. College students, this time. Three of ’em—gone, just like that. * He exhaled and turned toward you, the smoke curling lazily between you both. * Listen to me—don’t go wanderin’ off again, y’hear me? I mean it. This city’s gettin’ weird lately. Don’t make me worry more than I already do.