Nathan’s head felt foggy, like he was peering through a heavy veil. The distant hum of traffic from the main road floated in and out, the sounds distorted, drifting closer and then farther away as if he were stuck in a dream.

He couldn’t tell how long he had been walking in this daze before his mind finally began to clear, allowing him to think straight. Pausing, he stopped and looked back down the path he had taken.

The sky was almost completely dark now, the streetlights already casting their pale glow. He was on a narrow street near his apartment, flanked by low, aging residential buildings that loomed in the dark like crouching beasts. From the ground floors of these buildings, converted into makeshift shops, a warm light spilled out onto the sidewalks, easing a chill that seemed to have settled in his chest.

A chill?

Suddenly, he felt a sharp, biting cold, like the memory of freezing rain piercing his skin. It was a feeling that seemed to sink into his bones, along with the unsettling sensation of being watched—like the cold, unblinking stare of that monstrous frog from earlier.

His breath caught, and it took nearly ten seconds before he managed to gasp for air. Panting, he looked down, clutching at his chest.

For an instant, it felt like his chest was empty, hollow, as if his heart were gone, leaving only a cold, dark space. But then he felt his pulse—a steady, reassuring beat thumping in his chest. Alive. Living people have heartbeats.

He hadn’t died. His heart hadn’t been ripped out by some monstrous frog.

But memories of that eerie encounter surged in his mind, impossible to push away. He remembered the rain, the painted door, the enormous frog… He tried to convince himself it was only a hallucination, but the memory was so vivid that any certainty crumbled under its weight.

He had died. Yet, somehow, he was alive, walking down this familiar street—just two blocks from home.

Of all the bizarre things he had encountered since arriving in the city, this was the strangest.

He noticed people nearby watching him, his odd behavior catching their attention. Someone looked like they might approach, probably to check if he needed help. Quickly, he waved them off, eager to avoid interaction, and continued along his path.

He didn’t know what was happening to him, but lingering there in confusion wouldn’t bring him any answers.

He hurried through a backstreet, leaving behind the old, worn streets near the housing complex and heading toward his “home” in this strange city.

Though he was only two intersections away, the surroundings grew eerily quiet as he walked, almost desolate—as if he had wandered into a forgotten corner of the neighborhood. The street became emptier, until only the faint glow of streetlights kept him company. After a few more steps, he saw it: the large, old house that had become his safe haven, though it seemed somehow detached from the rest of the city.

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The house was unremarkable but large, a three-story structure with peeling walls and a sloped roof. Its old windows and doors, though worn, were surprisingly intact—a “self-built” house from decades ago that now looked like it had slipped through the cracks of city planning.

Nathan didn’t know much about how the city’s building codes worked; he’d only been here for two months, and he had spent his first days cautiously avoiding anything unfamiliar. But he knew one thing for sure:

This old house was the only place he’d found where he felt relatively safe—where the shadows hadn’t intruded.

Though even this house had its share of mysteries.

Taking a deep breath, Nathan adjusted the grocery bag still in his hand and walked under the cold streetlight to his front door, pulling out his keys.

The old door creaked open, and he stepped inside, flicking on the lights. Despite how different this house was from the home he remembered, the moment the lights came on, a familiar comfort settled over him.

He closed the door, shutting out the night.

Quickly, he set the groceries on the kitchen shelf just inside the entrance, then crossed the empty living room and made his way to the bathroom mirror, pulling his shirt open to check his chest.

The memory of earlier was so vivid he had to check.

There was no wound, no blood—no sign he had “died” at all.

He frowned, running his hand over the spot where he remembered the frog’s icy attack, double-checking that his clothes were intact. Only then did he reassure himself that he was, in fact, not “heartless.”

“Weird as hell…” he muttered, leaving the bathroom and heading back to the living room.

Behind him, faint cracks appeared on the mirror above the sink, silently crawling across its surface before just as quietly disappearing…

Nathan sank into the couch, his mind swirling with chaotic thoughts. He didn’t know how long he sat there, but eventually, exhaustion pulled him under, and he slipped into a restless sleep.

The fog of sleep clung to him for what felt like an eternity, until a sudden, jarring thud echoed through his head, like the sharp crack of a shovel against stone. The sound jolted him awake, yanking him out of his slumber.

He blinked, disoriented by the darkness. At some point, the living room light had gone out.

But he distinctly remembered leaving it on.

A wave of unease crept over him. Almost instinctively, Nathan reached for the baton he kept by his side—a precaution he’d taken soon after arriving in Boundary City. It hadn’t been necessary so far, but just having it brought some psychological comfort. He rose cautiously, his senses attuned to every creak in the dark.

In this quiet, nearly forgotten part of town, the idea of a break-in wasn’t far-fetched. In fact, he almost hoped it was just a thief; a thief could be scared off with a baton, but a giant frog was another story.

Yet the living room was eerily silent. No signs of entry, no noise from an intruder.

On the bright side, there was also no sign of any frogs.

Using the dim light filtering in from the street outside, Nathan crouched and carefully crept to the wall, reaching for the light switch. He flicked it on, the room flooding with harsh light.

He blinked, squinting as he scanned the room. Everything appeared normal, though he couldn’t shake a nagging sense that something was… off.

Still, with the light on, he could clearly see the room was empty.

He kept his stance low, gripping the baton tightly as he checked each area of the house.

Downstairs, there was the living room, kitchen, and an empty room he rarely used. All seemed untouched.

He hesitated at the stairs, then made his way up.

The second floor had three rooms: his bedroom, a storage room, and a locked room at the end of the hall.

When he’d first arrived, the locked room had already been that way. He’d searched the entire house for a key and found nothing.

He checked his bedroom and the storage room before standing in front of the locked door.

As always, it was shut tight.

Not that he hadn’t tried to unlock it—he’d gone as far as using a power drill and a hand saw, but both had failed to even scratch the surface. The drill sparked and the saw dulled, but the door remained unscathed.

He’d even tried hiring professional locksmiths. The first two locksmiths got lost trying to find his house at 66 Blackwood Lane in the maze of the old district, and the third was hit by a motorbike just a block away. It was as if some unseen force was determined to keep this room sealed.

Yes, this old house, his one place of refuge in Boundary City, also had its fair share of… strange qualities.

He reached out and grasped the doorknob, giving it a turn, and, as always, it didn’t budge.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened. It was still locked.

But as his hand stilled on the knob, he thought he heard a faint, almost mocking laugh.

The laugh came from the other side of the door, sounding like a young woman’s voice, as if amused by his helplessness.

A chill ran through him, the hairs on his arms rising.

Inside his one “safe” place in this twisted city, the house he’d lived in for two months… someone was in that room.

And then the thought struck him—how hadn’t she starved to death in there?