Episode 5
We stepped into the church, and at once, a heavy stillness settled over me. The building was ancient—its walls veined with cracks, its wooden beams darkened by age—but it remained upright, stubborn against time. My footsteps echoed softly in the vast silence, as if the air itself were holding its breath.
At the far end stood a single wooden door. The old man who guided us—Grandpa Memoir, as he had introduced himself—rolled his wheelchair forward and pushed it open.
Beyond it, I saw a gathering of people seated upon the floor—children, adults, and the elderly. Their faces bore different expressions, yet fear was the one emotion they all shared. A small child clung to her mother's sleeve, hiding her face as the woman hushed her gently.
Grandpa Memoir cleared his throat, his voice firm despite his years.
"She is Aria Everen," he announced. "She came here in search of her grandmother. Aria, please tell them her name."
He wheeled himself slightly back to make space and gestured for me to step forward.
I obeyed, my pulse quickening.
"Hello," I began, my voice sounding far too soft in the cold air. I could feel the weight of their stares—curiosity tinged with suspicion, and perhaps… anger?
"I'm looking for my grandmother," I continued. "Her name is Florentina Corven. I was hoping someone might know her—or where she could be." I hesitated, swallowing hard. "I came to tell her that my parents died in a car accident."
The last words trembled out of me, my voice cracking as tears welled in my eyes. Around me, I saw expressions soften—fear and hostility giving way to pity. I glanced at Grandpa Memoir, silently telling him I was finished. He gave me a slow nod.
I was about to step back and join the others when an elderly woman lifted her trembling hand. With effort, she rose to her feet.
"Florentina was my old friend," she said. Her voice was delicate, quivering with age. "She often spoke of you—of your parents too. She wished she could visit, but she was too frail to travel." The woman's eyes clouded as though she were seeing something far away. "We were always together once… but she was among those who vanished from Ashville."
Her voice broke, and tears streamed down her face. A middle-aged woman rushed to her side and embraced her—perhaps her daughter.
"Vanished?" I repeated, unable to keep the disbelief from my tone. "What do you mean vanished?"
Grandpa Memoir reached out and laid a wrinkled hand over mine.
"Aria," he said gently, "it has been a month since people began disappearing. Everyone you see here—these are the only ones left."
A man spoke from the corner, running his fingers through his thinning hair.
"There used to be so many of us. But it's as if something is taking people away—one by one."
I stared at them, unsure whether to believe or fear them. Something taking people away?
"Then why don't you ask for help outside of Ashville?" I asked. "Surely someone would come if you sought help."
"No one can leave," a woman whispered. Her voice was barely audible. "And no one enters—not anymore. Even the delivery man who used to come weekly… and my brother… they're gone."
The air thickened with unease.
"But you managed to come in," another voice hissed—it was Mira. Her eyes were sharp, filled with suspicion.
I pinched my cheek hard, hoping this was all just a nightmare. But the sting was real.
"I'm not dreaming," I muttered aloud before I could stop myself.
Mira rolled her eyes. "Of course you're not," she scoffed
I turned to Grandpa Memoir. "What exactly happened here?"
A boy—no older than seventeen—spoke quietly.
"We don't know," he said. "We just woke up one morning, and most of the towns people was gone."
He straightened a little. "My name is Daniel," he added.
"I remember it clearly—it began on the eighteenth of July, 2025."
Daniel's POV
I woke up before my alarm even rang. Today's a big day — the school's first-ever sports festival. I've trained hard for the basketball game, even after long nights at my part-time job as a market porter. Every coin I earned went straight to paying my admission fee. It wasn't easy, but it was worth it.
After washing up, I put on my most precious shirt. It's not new — just the only one I have without holes or faded colors. Most of my clothes are old hand-me-downs, but this one makes me feel confident, like I actually belong.
When I walked to the kitchen, I expected to smell Mom's usual boiled sweet potatoes. She never forgets to prepare breakfast, especially on important days like this. She's always been like that — tired, maybe, but always smiling, always proud of me.
But today, the table was empty.
No steam from the pot. No plates. No sound.
"Mom?" I called out softly, a strange feeling sinking in.
I walked to my parents' small wooden room. The door wasn't locked. I hesitated for a moment before slowly pushing it open. Two pillows lay neatly at the head of the bamboo bed — perfectly aligned — but no one had slept there. The blanket was smooth, untouched.
My chest tightened. They never left this early. Something was wrong.
I hurried outside. A few of the elderly folks from town were already wandering around, looking anxious. They're the ones who usually wake up before sunrise.
When I spotted my classmate's grandmother, I ran toward her.
"Nana Constancia! What's going on?"
She turned to me, her voice trembling.
"Daniel, people are missing… many of our loved ones. They're just gone."
She started to cry. "Leon too. My Leon is gone. He's a good boy… he would never leave me like this."
My stomach dropped. I didn't understand what was happening — only that something terrible had started, right here in our little town.
Back to Aria's POV
"That was when the remaining townspeople formed a small group," Grandpa Memoir said solemnly. "We wanted to understand what was happening—to find those who vanished. But our efforts were in vain. The disappearances continued."
He sighed, his hands trembling slightly on the armrests of his wheelchair.
"We tried to leave the town to seek help, but no matter how far we walked, we always found ourselves back at the village gate—as if the world outside had turned its back on us."
Daniel leaned forward, his expression suddenly alight.
"Maybe you can leave!" he exclaimed. "You managed to enter Ashville when no one else could. That means you might be able to go out—and bring help!"
The townspeople turned their eyes to me, their expressions shifting from despair to fragile hope.
My chest tightened. I had come here only to find my grandmother. But now, I stood at the center of something far darker—a mystery that breathed beneath the surface of this town.