By the fifth day, Ebirien no longer felt like a town.
It felt like a trap.
No one moved freely anymore.
People spoke in half-sentences.
Arguments died before they could begin.
Even laughter sounded forced—cut short the moment it felt too real.
Because now, everyone knew one thing:
Anger was listening.
But something worse had begun.
It wasn't just reacting anymore.
It was choosing.
That morning, the air felt heavier than usual.
Clouds gathered low in the sky, dark and unmoving.
Even the wind seemed tired.
Inside his house, Tare sat on the floor, his back against the wall.
He hadn't eaten.
He hadn't slept.
His eyes were hollow.
Because he could hear them now.
Not just the voice.
But voices.
Whispers.
Dozens of them.
Layered.
Overlapping.
Crying.
Shouting.
Begging.
"Stop…" Tare muttered, covering his ears.
But it didn't help.
Because the voices were not outside.
They were inside him.
You hear them now.
The main voice spoke again—but it no longer sounded alone.
It echoed with others.
Tare shook his head weakly. "Make them go away…"
They were always there.
"I can't carry this," he said, his voice breaking.
You are not carrying it.
A pause.
You are connected to it.
Tare's breathing grew heavier.
"What does that mean?"
The answer came slowly.
You are the door.
Silence.
Tare's eyes widened.
"No…"
Through you… they reach me.
Tare pushed himself back against the wall.
"No… I didn't agree to that!"
You opened yourself.
The truth settled like weight on his chest.
This was no longer just about his anger.
He had become something else.
A bridge.
Across town, the effects were growing stronger.
At the market, traders no longer stayed long.
They sold quickly and left.
Because the longer they stayed…
the harder it became to hide what they felt.
A man argued with a woman over change.
He tried to stay calm.
He really did.
But inside…
he was furious.
"You cheated me," he said through clenched teeth.
"I did not," the woman replied sharply.
Silence fell between them.
Heavy.
Tense.
Neither spoke further.
Neither backed down.
Neither released what they felt.
And then—
The coins in the man's hand began to shake.
Both of them froze.
The shaking grew stronger.
Faster.
Violent.
Then suddenly—
the coins shot out of his hand like bullets, scattering across the ground.
The man screamed.
The woman stumbled backward.
No one touched anything.
No one moved.
Because now they understood something new:
Even unspoken anger could escape.
At the edge of town, a group of elders gathered quietly.
Their faces were lined with fear and worry.
"This is no longer a curse," one said.
"It is something worse."
"What could be worse than a curse?" another asked.
The oldest among them spoke slowly:
"A curse can be broken."
A pause.
"This… is being fed."
Silence followed.
"What do we do?" someone whispered.
The old man closed his eyes.
"We find the source."
Back in his house, Tare gasped suddenly.
His body tensed.
He felt something new.
Not anger.
But focus.
Attention.
"They're looking for me," he whispered.
Yes.
Fear rose in his chest.
"What will they do?"
The voice did not hesitate.
What fear always does.
Tare swallowed hard.
"They think I'm the problem."
You are part of it.
Tears filled his eyes.
"I didn't want to hurt anyone…"
The voices around him grew louder.
We didn't want to be silent.
We didn't want to be ignored.
We didn't want to suffer alone.
Tare screamed, holding his head.
"STOP!"
But the voices didn't stop.
Because they weren't attacking him.
They were speaking through him.
That evening, the town moved together.
Not as a community.
But as a force.
Torches lit the streets.
Footsteps echoed in unison.
Voices low.
Determined.
They were coming for Tare.
Tare felt it before he saw it.
The anger.
Not hidden.
Not quiet.
Open.
Dangerous.
He stood up slowly.
His legs weak.
"They're here…" he whispered.
Yes.
"What do I do?"
For the first time…
the voice did not give an answer.
Because this choice…
was his.
The door burst open.
Light flooded into the room.
Shadows stretched across the floor.
And there they stood.
Villagers.
Dozens of them.
Some afraid.
Some angry.
Some both.
At the front stood the village head.
His eyes fixed on Tare.
"You will come with us," he said.
Tare didn't move.
"I didn't do this," he said weakly.
Murmurs spread through the crowd.
"Everything started with you!"
"You brought this!"
"End it!"
The anger rose again.
Thick.
Heavy.
Uncontrolled.
Tare felt it all.
Every emotion in that room.
Every accusation.
Every fear.
It was too much.
"I can't stop it!" he cried. "You don't understand!"
"Then we will make you stop!" someone shouted.
And that was the moment everything changed.
Because the anger in the room
was no longer just aimed at Tare.
It was everywhere.
Between them.
Inside them.
Around them.
The ground trembled violently.
The walls cracked.
The air itself seemed to shake.
People screamed.
Some dropped their torches.
Others ran.
But it was too late.
The force had grown too strong.
And now…
it was reacting to all of them at once.
Tare fell to his knees.
Tears streaming down his face.
"I didn't want this…" he whispered.
The voices answered.
Neither did we.
And in that moment…
Tare understood the final truth.
This was not just revenge.
This was accumulation.
Every ignored pain.
Every hidden anger.
Every silent suffering.
All returning.
All at once.
The house cracked further.
The ground split slightly beneath them.
And as the villagers scrambled to escape
Tare remained still.
Because for the first time…
he stopped resisting.
He listened.
And what he heard…
terrified him more than anything else.
Not anger.
Not pain.
But a single thought rising above all the voices:
It is not enough.
Tare's eyes widened slowly.
Because now he knew
This wasn't the peak.
It was just the beginning.