The coffin stood in front of me.
Polished.
Sealed.
My father was inside.
Jack Baker.
I kept staring at it, waiting for something to break inside me.
Nothing did.
People stood around in black clothes.
Faces I recognized, voices I didn't care to hear.
My mother's relatives, My father's friends, Business partners offering empty words that slid past me like noise.
But two names burned in my thoughts:
Alexander Baker my father brother
Maria Baker my father's sister
They were supposed to be here.
They weren't.
No presence.
Just absence.
Then I felt it.
A hand on my shoulder,I flinched slightly and turned.
My grandmother stood beside me.
She didn't cry.
She didn't look at the coffin.
She looked at me.
Her eyes felt old.
Like they had seen things no one should see.
Her grip tightened just enough for me to notice.
Then she spoke.
Her voice was calm. Flat. Certain.
"only The soul can control the insanity, Not the mind."
The words sent a strange weight through my chest.
Before I could ask what she meant, her eyes shifted.
Down.
To my arm.
To the mark.
The strange symbol etched into my skin.
Her gaze lingered there for a brief moment.
She didn't react.
Didn't question it.
Didn't warn me.
She simply lifted her hand from my shoulder and stepped back.
Then she turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd without another word.
I stood there frozen.
My heart started pounding for the first time since the funeral began.
That wasn't comfort.
And wasn't advice.
That was a warning.
When my grandmother turned and walked away, leaning on her cane, something inside me tightened.
I needed air.
I slipped away from the crowd and stepped outside.
The sky was gray, heavy, like it was pressing down on the earth. I took a deep breath, then another, but it didn't help.
My phone vibrated in my hand.
Messages.
One after another.
Ben: I'm really sorry, Alex. If you need anything, we're here.
Michael: We didn't know what to say… but we're thinking about you.
Lisa: I can't imagine how you feel. Please don't go through this alone.
I stared at the screen.
I typed a response.
Then deleted it، Typed again ،Deleted it again.
I didn't tell them about my grandmother.
About her words.
About the way she looked at my arm.
I couldn't.
Not yet.
I just sent one short message.
Alex: thanks. I'll be okay.
A lie.
I put the phone back in my pocket and looked up at the sky again.
The wind picked up, cold against my face.
For a moment, I felt watched.
Not by people.
By something else.
The feeling faded as quickly as it came, leaving only unease behind.
By the time the sun began to set, the cemetery was almost empty.
The coffin was lowered.
The sound of dirt hitting wood echoed louder than it should have.
Each thud felt like it landed inside my chest.
Night came quietly.
Too quietly.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the coffin.
So I got up.
My house felt different now.
Quieter, Heavier ,Like something important had been removed and replaced with silence.
I walked into my father's study.
The room still smelled like him. Old books. Paper. Coffee that had gone cold years ago.
My eyes landed on a small wooden drawer under his desk.
I knew what was inside.
Old photographs.
I sat on the floor and spread them out slowly, one by one....
My father as a young man.
My father smiling.
My father standing beside people I didn't recognize.
Then I froze.....
One photo caught my attention.
It was old. Too old.
The edges were worn, the colors faded almost to nothing.
My father was standing in the picture, much younger than I had ever seen him.
But that wasn't what made my breath stop.
His hand was visible.
Clear.
Open.
And on his palm…
A symbol.
The same symbol.
I leaned closer, my heart pounding.
It was there. Carved into his skin just like mine.
But unlike mine, his looked faded. Broken. Like it had been worn down by time.
As if something had been taken from him.
Or abandoned him.
I whispered without realizing it.
Alex: Dad… what did you get yourself into?
The crystal on my chest pulsed once.
Soft.
Almost like a response.
I closed my hand slowly, the photo trembling between my fingers.
Whatever this symbol meant…
Whatever my father had been part of…
It hadn't ended with him.
It had passed on.
To me.
I went straight to my room.
The old photo stayed in my pocket, pressed against my leg like it was heavier than paper had any right to be.
When I closed the door behind me, the room felt hollow.
Too quiet. Like it had been waiting for me.
I sat on the edge of my bed and pulled out my phone.
I typed into the group chat...
Alex: anyone still awake
Replies came almost instantly.
Ben: yeah
Michael: I'm here
Lisa: me too
I checked the time.
11:15 PM.
Nothing happened.
No whispers.
No light.
After that Michael typed in the chat...
Michael : looks like I was right after all.
For a brief moment, I relaxed. I let myself believe that maybe the nightmare had finally ended.
Then a few minutes passed.
11:30 PM.
The mark on my arm began to glow.
Not softly.
Not gently.
It burned with a dull, unnatural light.
My breath caught in my throat.
Then I heard it.
Whispers.
But this time, they weren't unfamiliar.
They were..... my....father's voice.
Calling my name.
Alex…
Alex…
I turned around fast.
Nothing was there.
My head started to spin. The room tilted. My vision blurred at the edges.
I was about to black out when I saw him.
Standing in front of me.
My father...
But his mouth was black, like burnt wood,His eyes were the same, Hollow, Dead.
Watching me without blinking.
Then everything disappeared.
When I woke up, my heart sank.
The sky outside my window was red.
Not sunset red.
Not sunrise.
Everything else looked drained, washed out in lifeless gray.
Exactly like before.
My hands shook as I grabbed my phone.
The group chat was already exploding.
Ben: this is not a dream
Lisa: I'm scared
Michael: please tell me you see the sky too
I typed.
Alex: you see it too… right
They all answered yes.
Fear poured through the messages this time. No denial. No jokes.
I swallowed hard and wrote again.
Alex: so Michael… do you believe now
A pause.
Then Michael replied.
Michael: yeah… I believe in the third world now
Michael: but what do we do
Lisa typed next.
Lisa: we need to meet somewhere
Lisa: together
Ben followed.
Ben: yeah
Ben: but not that creepy library again
I stared at the screen, thinking.
Alex: okay
Alex: what about my house
Alex: I'll wait for you here
Ben replied almost immediately.
Ben: WHY NOT MY HOUSE.
Before I could answer, new messages appeared.
Michael: WHY NOT MY PLACE.
Lisa: yeah why not mine.
The chat started turning chaotic. Messages overlapping. Everyone talking at once.
My chest tightened.
The crystal against my skin reacted.
It flared dark red.
Then it shifted.
Gray. Bright. Heavy.
The chat went silent.
No one typed.
I took a deep breath and wrote.
Alex: we'll meet at Ben's house
Alex: it's the closest for everyone
Alex: any objections
No replies.
Just silence.
I typed one last message.
Alex: then let's go
And just like that, we were moving again....