The Neighbors Next Door

"I'm thinking of telling the police about our new neighbors," Chris, who was sixty-five years old, said to me sadly, probably because he had nothing else to do.

"Do those people still do that, Chris?"

I worked under Chris for a while. Chris was a good artist. Not just an artist, but a cartoonist. In those days, people would flock to the weekend newspapers to see Chris's cartoons.

But I only had the opportunity to work under Chris for a few months. I later had the opportunity to work as an assistant to a senior writer at the same newspaper.

In those days, young Chris taught me some of the things about journalism, like my father. Chris and I, who had only worked together for a few months, are still good friends.

Chris stopped working for the newspaper and now runs a small restaurant. I think Chris is as successful as a restaurant owner as he is a cartoonist.

Now, even though Chris occasionally draws cartoons, they are limited to his sketchbook. I never forget to look at that book full of cartoons. Chris had the ability to present current topics simply through a cartoon. Especially about politics.

I have also been in this city for almost ten years now.

I said goodbye to my sad past and came to this small, rural town to start a new life. Chris was my teacher at that beginning, which gave me strength.

"Really, Chris, how long have these people been doing this?"

A few days ago, when I came to this restaurant, Chris was very interested in telling me about the new neighbors who had moved in.

He told me that the new neighbors were mysterious. Chris also told me that strange things were happening in these people's houses.

But Chris didn't want to tell the police about the crazy Aslavsiones' work.

"Those people just moved in exactly ten days ago, and it's been about four days since Maria started telling me about things that happen in the afternoon. I told you about it right after the first incident."

Chris knows that I like to write about unusual things for the newspaper. In addition to the newspaper, I write a blog about strange events. That's why Chris told me about it in the first place.

''Chris. I'm sorry, I've been a little busy lately, I'm free from today. I promise to look into your problem from today."

Before I could express my regret to Chris, the phone in Chris's restaurant started ringing. Chris went to answer it and asked my permission to do so.

Since I was little, I wanted to be a detective Reading various books and magazines like detective book, crime books, and books on criminal law became my hobby.

I don't know if it was because of that reading, but in the end I was able to become a talented writer. A writer of books that bring curiosity among people in a different way.

My wife, I, and our little son lived in the western province thirteen years ago. Because of my writing, I had a good income. We lived happily. I was living a satisfied life as a husband and father.

But .......... a second is enough for people's lives to change.

My little son and his wife left this world in a terrible car accident twelve years ago. Two days before Christmas, which brings joy to every home, they were shopping when the car went off the road and fell into a nearby river.

After their deaths, I lived like a madman.

Thinking of saying goodbye to the old memories that had come to me in that life, I moved to this small, beautiful town in the Eastern Province.

There, because of my writing skills, I resumed work as a writer for a local newspaper. That's where I met Chris. Chris gave me the basic education in journalism by writing books as a freelance writer, putting the ideas that came to mind into words.

"Maria called and said that the people in the neighboring house are doing something like a sacrifice and are in the yard."

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard Chris's words.

"What..."

I didn't understand what Chris had just said. So I asked Chris again what he meant.

"While Maria was looking out the window today, three tall men dressed in black from head to toe were walking around the neighboring house, praying. Maria said she was afraid to be alone at home. She asked me to come."

"So let's go, Chris."

With Chris's explanation, I became more curious about this story than ever. So I suggested to Chris that we go and see the strange activity that was happening in the neighboring house.

Chris agreed to my request, and he assigned all the duties to a young boy working in the restaurant and quickly left for Chris's house.

"What else does Maria say about the neighbors, Chris?"

Chris's house was about seven kilometers away from the city.

In a secluded village called "White Leaf."

So, until we got to Wye Leaf, I started gathering information about the neighbors from Chris.

"I was at the restaurant when those people moved into that house, and Maria called and said that a small family had come as our neighbors."

"Do you know who that family is, Chris?"

I wanted to know about the members of this mysterious family.

"A young couple, a boy about thirteen or fourteen, ahh..