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Man of Styx
Chapter TWO: The Echoes of Death

Chapter TWO: The Echoes of Death

The scene opens with an establishing shot of an apartment façade, its nondescript exterior blending into the urban landscape. The camera shifts to the inner walls of a man’s room, revealing a stark, unadorned space — plain and monotonous, with minimal décor and an air of drabness. Through the window, however, a breathtaking view unfolds: vibrant cityscapes or serene natural beauty starkly contrasts the austere interior. The juxtaposition highlights the disconnect between the man's unremarkable surroundings and the vibrant world outside.

The sky outside Ryoichiro’s apartment seemed unusually dark for an afternoon, with clouds gathering in a heavy, almost oppressive blanket, casting an unsettling shadow over the cityscape. It felt as though the air itself was holding its breath. The first drops of rain tapped against the window like a hesitant warning.

Ryoichiro welcomed the gloom; it was perfect weather for staying in, sipping coffee, and watching movies in the living room. As he settled on the couch, he thought he heard a faint voice coming from somewhere outside. He glanced out the window, but saw nothing. Shaking off the unease, he returned to his movie. As Ryoichiro poured coffee into his cup, his hand trembled slightly, causing the liquid to slosh over the edge. He sighed, annoyed by the clumsiness that seemed out of character for him. He got up from the couch and went to check on Sunny, his cheerful parakeet. The contrast between the bird’s bright feathers and the gloomy day outside added to his growing sense of unease.

“Enjoy your lunch, Sun-chan,” Ryoichiro murmured with a smile before turning to the refrigerator.

He searched through the shelves, pulling out an assortment of snacks for his movie marathon. While rummaging through the fridge, Ryoichiro felt a shiver run down his spine, as though someone had walked over his grave. He glanced around the kitchen, but found nothing out of place.

Sunny fluttered nervously in its cage, pecking at the bars and chirping erratically. Ryoichiro frowned and tried to calm the bird, attributing its behavior to the approaching storm. Every creak of the apartment’s floorboards seemed amplified, echoing in Ryoichiro’s ears like a warning. He glanced nervously at the darkening sky, his heart racing despite the fact that it was just an ordinary storm.

As he closed the fridge door, a sudden realization struck him — his laundry was still hanging outside!

“Oh, shit!” he exclaimed, dropping his chow on the table and rushing to the back door. The rain was falling heavily now, soaking the clothes he had left to dry. He hurried outside, the cool rain immediately drenching his hair and clothes. The sky growled with the distant rumble of thunder, urging him to move faster.

As Ryoichiro gathered his wet laundry, the rumbling grew louder, and the air around him seemed to hum with electricity, as the temperature dropped. He froze for a moment, sensing something was terribly wrong. Just as he was about to step inside, a blinding flash of lightning struck the ground.

Crrrack!

He cowered, eyes squeezed shut, feeling the crackle of energy in the air. When he finally dared to open his eyes, the spot where he had been standing was scorched, the grass blackened and smoking. The scorch mark on the ground wasn’t just a physical phenomenon; it felt like a dark omen, a sign that something more sinister was at play.

“What the — ?!”

His heart pounded in his chest, but he forced himself to brush it off, attributing it to sheer luck. He hurried inside, slamming the door behind him. Ryoichiro leaned against the door, trying to calm his racing heart. He took deep breaths and went to the fridge for a cold drink. The water was refreshing, helping to steady his nerves. But as he closed the fridge door, a wave of dread washed over him. He turned slowly, his eyes widening in horror.

Sunny’s cage was eerily silent. The cheerful chirping had stopped. Ryoichiro approached the cage, his hands trembling. There, lying at the bottom, was Sunny. The parakeet’s vibrant feathers were still intact, but it lay lifeless, a faint smell of burnt feathers in the air.

“No… Sunny-chan…” Ryoichiro whispered, tears welling up in his eyes.

He reached into the cage, gently cradling the tiny bird in his hands. Ryoichiro’s mind flashed back to the mugging incident. He had felt an unnerving sense of dread even then, a feeling that something was terribly wrong. The mugger’s eerie smile, the coldness in the air — it all seemed to resonate with the recent lightning strike and Sunny’s death. Could there be a connection he was missing? He recalled the unsettling feeling that night and wondered if it was more than just fear; perhaps it was a sign of something more sinister.

Ryoichiro’s hands trembled as he held Sunny’s lifeless body. Panic gripped him as he placed Sunny’s body back in the cage. The sight of the scorched ground where he had stood just moments before sent chills down his spine. His mind raced, struggling to rationalize the events. Part of him wanted to collapse, overwhelmed by fear. Yet another part, stubbornly in denial, urged him to act as if everything was normal, as if continuing with his routine might somehow dispel the fear he felt.

He stumbled back to the living room, trying to focus on the movie playing on the TV. But the screen was just a blur of colors and sounds. Despite his attempts to immerse himself in the movie, Ryoichiro’s focus wavered. He fidgeted with the remote, his eyes darting around the room, every creak and shadow amplifying his anxiety. The movie’s dialogue felt hollow, failing to drown out the dread that gnawed at him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that death was stalking him, waiting to claim another victim through him.

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Questions and fears swirled in Ryoichiro’s mind as his stomach tightened with dread. The feeling of being followed by death lingered, an ever-present shadow since that night in the park. He wanted to scream, to run, to do something, but he was paralyzed by fear and confusion.

The movie droned on, but Ryoichiro barely noticed. He sank deeper into the couch, feeling the weight of his curse pressing down on him. As the rain continued to pour outside, Ryoichiro sat in the dim light of his living room, haunted by the shadow of death that loomed ever closer.

The scene opens with an establishing shot of a sleek office building towering in the heart of the city, its glass facade reflecting the bustling urban landscape. Inside, office workers move about in a well-orchestrated hum of activity, preparing for their lunch break. The camera then shifts to the office cafeteria, where the lunchtime rush has settled into a quieter rhythm.

At a table near the window, three men sit engaged in conversation. Their expressions reveal a mix of camaraderie and concern as they share a meal. The clatter of trays and the murmur of other conversations create a backdrop to their dialogue, capturing the essence of a typical office lunch break amidst underlying tensions.

During lunch break, Ryoichiro sat across from his friends Kirishima and Saejima at their usual table. As Kirishima leaned back in his chair, his eyes reflected the camaraderie they had shared since college — the late-night study sessions, the joint struggles of starting their careers, and the countless inside jokes that still made Ryoichiro smile despite his current turmoil. Saejima, fiddling with his phone, glanced up with a mix of concern and curiosity.

Kirishima, taking a sip from his glass, broke the silence. “You’ve been acting weird lately, Ryo-kun. What’s up? Did you finally get a new hobby or something?”

Kirishima’s playful teasing masked a genuine concern for Ryoichiro, a trait that had become evident during their shared college days when Kirishima often stepped in to lighten the mood in tough situations.

Kirishima Takanawa possesses a distinctive and engaging presence that immediately sets him apart. Standing at around 5'8", he has a solid, slightly stocky build that radiates both warmth and approachability. His face is round and animated, often framed by a tousled hairstyle that enhances his relaxed charm. His large, expressive eyes sparkle with a blend of humor and curiosity, revealing his keen interest in the world around him. While Kirishima frequently lightens the mood with his easygoing attitude, he proves to be exceptionally reliable when the situation demands.

Ryoichiro, trying to play it cool, shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich. “No, nothing much. Just been a bit off lately.”

Saejima, his voice a bit hesitant but earnest, chimed in, “Yeah, you’ve been kind of distant. Is everything alright? You’ve been avoiding the park and taking longer routes home. Something happen?”

Saejima’s reserved nature reflected a deeper, unspoken worry, his quiet observation revealing more about his empathy than any words could.

Ryoichiro avoided their gazes, focusing on his meal. “I-it’s nothing. Just… a rough patch. I’m fine.”

Kirishima laughed, a hint of teasing in his tone. “Rough patch? You mean, you’re turning into a drama queen now?”

“Shut up,” quipped Ryoichiro.

But Kirishima probed on. “Come on, spill it. What’s really going on?” Kirishima’s usual joking tone was underlined by a note of seriousness. “You know, Ryo-kun, we’ve been through a lot together. I’m not just poking fun. If something’s wrong, I want to help, because you’ve always been there for me.”

Ryoichiro shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting between Kirishima and Saejima. “Seriously, it’s nothing. Just personal stuff.”

Saejima leaned forward, his eyes wide with genuine concern. “But if something’s bothering you, Ryoichiro-san, you can talk to us. We’re your friends.”

Saejima’s concern wasn’t just for show. His eyes narrowed slightly as he spoke, “If this is about something more than just a rough patch, we need to know. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

Kirishima added, “Yeah, and you’re not going to solve whatever’s going on by shutting us out. We’re a team, remember?”

Saejima Rikuro has an intriguing demeanor that immediately captures attention. His tired eyes, though often weary, are keenly observant, missing very little in his surroundings. He is a man of few words, but when he does speak, his words carry significant weight and impact. While he can exhibit a streak of laziness, his productivity soars when something captures his interest, showcasing a remarkable work ethic. His hair, which falls across half of his face, adds to his enigmatic aura, partially obscuring a pointy nose and lending an air of mystery. Despite his rare smiles, when he does, it's a cheeky and almost mischievous grin that hints at a hidden warmth. He comes off as inscrutable, but those he cares for experience his genuine warmth and surprising affection. Even after knowing Ryan for several years, John still finds him to be an enigma, yet he feels an undeniable closeness with him.

Ryoichiro’s smile was forced, and he nodded. “I appreciate it, really. There's really nothing to talk about.”

Ryoichiro appreciated Kirishima’s attempts at humor, even if they felt misplaced at times. It was Kirishima’s way of showing he cared. Saejima’s quiet support, though less vocal, was just as significant. Ryoichiro knew that Saejima’s concern ran deep, hidden behind his reserved exterior, and he felt guilty for not opening up to them.

Ryoichiro’s internal conflict was palpable. He wanted to shield Kirishima and Saejima from his growing fears, believing they had enough of their own problems. Yet, he couldn’t shake the sense that their support, though well-meaning, made him feel even more isolated, as if he were hiding behind a wall of pretense.

As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, Ryoichiro couldn’t shake the sense of dread that had been gnawing at him. Kirishima, noticing Ryoichiro’s distracted state, invited him for an impromptu dinner, insisting it was just to catch up but with an underlying urgency in his voice. Saejima, on the other hand, left a small note on Ryoichiro’s desk with a simple message: “If you need to talk, I’m here.”

Over the next few days, he avoided his usual haunts, the unsettling feeling following him like a shadow. At work, his distracted demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by his coworkers, but he kept the bizarre incident to himself, unsure who would believe him.

“What is happening to me? Why does it feel like I'm living in a nightmare where the rules of reality have twisted themselves into something unrecognizable?”

Then, a series of inexplicable events began to unfold around him. Ryoichiro witnessed accidents and mishaps that seemed to defy logic.

“That car… It came out of nowhere...”

Two days ago, a car veered off the road, narrowly missing him but crashing fatally into a telephone post. Ryoichiro should have been crushed beneath it. But no, it missed him by inches, only to slam into that post with a sound that still echoes in his ears. A bystander was pinned under the post, killed instantly. The driver was rushed to the emergency room. Though it was reported as a mere traffic accident, Ryoichiro knew otherwise.

“And then there was the shelf...”

A heavy shelf at the office toppled over, nearly crushing him, only to fall on a co-worker.

“I was right there, so close I could feel the rush of air as it fell. I should have been buried under those heavy files and boxes. Instead, it landed on Hamada-san, who barely had a chance to react. His injuries were minor — why did he have to die? It’s so unfair. What cruel twist of fate is this?”

Each incident left Ryoichiro unharmed but filled with growing terror.

“I’m left standing on the edge of disaster, untouched. It’s like I’m living in a bubble where danger hovers around me but never quite breaks through. I should be grateful, right? Right!? But instead, all I feel is terror. Why am I the one who’s unharmed while others pay the price? It’s like I’m part of some sick joke, or a twisted experiment. Is there a reason I’m being spared? Or am I just waiting for my turn? What if this is only the beginning? What if the next time, the bubble bursts, and I’m not so lucky? I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched, that there’s something out there, playing a game with my life. But who would believe me if I told them? Who would understand the terror of knowing that you’re walking a tightrope where every misstep could be your last? I need to figure this out. I have to find some kind of meaning or explanation, or at least a way to protect myself. I can’t keep living in this constant state of dread, waiting for the next disaster to strike.”

Desperate for answers, Ryoichiro turned to the only person he trusted: his childhood friend, Risa Saia, who had always had an affinity for the supernatural. He confided in her, hoping she can provide answers or solace amidst the chaos consuming his life.