The Underground.

This happened back when I was working as an investigative journalist. I was assigned on a project, but the site we were supposed to investigate was far from where I lived. Like, really far. A village way out in the hills. Isolated. No cameras, no networks. Just people and land.

Apparently, the higher-ups suspected something weird was going on in that village, something they couldn’t prove from a distance. So they sent us in. Me, Milo, and Ethan. The idea was simple: blend in, stay low, live among them, and figure out what’s real.

So I ended up moving in with Milo and Ethan, into a small house at the center of the village. We knew each other from other gigs. We worked together a few times. Cool guys, but we weren’t close. It wasn’t like we were friends-friends. We just got along enough to share a roof, that’s all.

From the jump, the villagers were friendly. Like, too friendly. Bringing food, offering to help us find work, even suggesting we settle down. They’d also make these weird little jokes about us marrying their daughters. Especially Ethan. He’s got this unique red iris, which apparently wasn’t so unique in that village. There’s at least 1 in every family who have this red colored iris. Lucky for Ethan they kept lining him up like some kind of bachelor prize.

But even with all that friendliness… I didn’t feel safe. Can’t explain it. It wasn’t anything they did, exactly. It was just a feeling. Like something was off, but not loud enough to point at. I kept telling myself it was just the distance from home, the isolation. I tried to ignore it.

We told the villagers we were there to start a life. Said we were looking for jobs, trying to get away from the city. They believed us or at least acted like they did. No one asked too many questions.

During our time there, we started poking around. Quietly. Talking to people. Observing patterns. But the deeper we looked, the more it felt like there were certain things we weren’t meant to find.

That’s how we stumbled across the underground place.

It wasn’t part of the assignment. No one told us to go there. But once we found it, it felt important. Like it connected something we hadn’t seen yet. We didn’t take anything, didn’t leave any trace. And we made sure no one saw us. Because if they had? We’d be screwed. We weren’t just visitors, we were ops. We were sent there to gather intel. If they ever found that out… we knew we’d be done.

So that night, when I heard the front door creak open, I panicked.I froze. I thought the villagers found out. I thought they were coming for us. My heart was thudding like crazy, and I reached for the closest thing I could use as a weapon. Took a step out into the hallway…

And it was just Milo. Coming back from the bathroom. Half asleep. Didn’t even notice me.

I felt stupid. Like I let my paranoia talk too loud again. I told myself to chill. That I needed rest. So I let it go.

Then came the disaster.

A red-eyed girl, maybe fifteen, someone kind, someone who always gave us boiled potatoes in the morning, went missing. Just vanished. Her family was in pieces. The whole village seemed to break around them. Everyone was outside, crying, praying, searching. It wasn’t like she ran away. No one believed that.

After that, more girls started vanishing. Always redeyes. Different ages. No one knew why. The warmth in the village stayed on the surface, but underneath, everyone looked terrified. And day by day, it kept getting worse.

Eventually the village elders called a meeting. The whole town showed up. We went too, partly because Ethan kept pushing us to. He was scared. It made sense because he has a red iris too. I could see it in his eyes, he didn’t think he’d be skipped. It’s not like we were careless about the missing girls or anything, It’s just that we’re on a different task and we’re focused on that for the time being.

At the meeting the elders told this old story, real slow, like they were afraid just saying it out loud would make things worse.

They said something like this had happened before. Decades ago. Same pattern but instead of red eyed girls, it was old men vanishing. Same panic. And back then, it all started when someone entered a forbidden underground site. Someone took something. Something cursed. Something that should’ve stayed buried.

They didn’t have to tell people what was happening any further. Everyone already knew. What they wanted was answers. Since we’re the new ones to the village, one of them looked straight at us and asked if we’d gone near the underground place.

I froze.

For a second, no one answered. I thought it was over. I was ready to admit it, take the hit, but then a villager jumped in. Said we were just city boys looking for jobs. That we’d been spending time with the locals. That we wouldn’t even know where the place was.

The elders nodded. Moved on.

And I sat there, sweating through my shirt, trying not to shake. Because when they finally explained what they thought was happening… I was glad that the man answering for us saved our lives.

They said the only way to stop the curse was to return what was taken, and the one who took it. Offered alive. Blood for blood.

I didn’t hear much else after that. My brain kind of shut off. I was trying to remember everything. Every move we made. Everything we touched. If anyone watched us there. They said the curse doesn’t kill you outright, it uses you. You could be doing things you don’t even know. They called it slavery. Not in chains. In your own body.

I didn’t say a word that whole meeting. My throat was dry, heart racing. I didn’t want to look at Milo or Ethan. I didn’t want them to look at me.

That night, back at the house, we all sat in silence. I asked real casual “You guys took anything down there?” They both shook their heads. Swore they didn’t. I hadn’t either. Still… something in me couldn’t settle.

That night, I barely slept. I was scared they’d figured us out. That they were going to come for us in the dark. When I heard the door creak open again, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Same sound.

Same time.

Only this time… I didn’t move.

I stayed under the blanket, just barely lifting my head enough to see Milo walking in from outside. I was relieved but kept cursing Milo’s bladder until I fell asleep.

Next morning, Ethan was reading over some notes he’d made about what the elders said. Repeating parts out loud like he was trying to make sense of it all.

“The object needs to be returned… and the person with it… the killing happens at 3AM… the person doesn’t know… they’re a slave, ”

He kept talking. But I stopped listening. My heart skipped a beat when I remembered I had seen Milo coming back after midnight. Not once but twice. Even though I haven’t seen the exact time I knew it was definitely past 3AM.

And all I could feel was the hair standing up on the back of my neck and waiting until I could talk to Ethan alone.

After what felt like decades, I finally got to talk to Ethan. He didn’t believe me at first, but the more I spoke, the paler he got. We both knew we had to figure this out before Milo got back from the bathroom. So, we made a plan: that night, we’d watch to see if Milo left the room after we went to bed.

We had to hide our paranoia, wait through painfully slow hours, and pretend to sleep. Honestly, I didn’t think Ethan could pull it off, but somehow he did, or Milo just didn’t notice.

We went to bed early, trying to see how long Milo would wait before making a move. But nothing happened. No sound. No sign of him. After a while, I actually started to feel guilty, like maybe I was wrong all along. I even started rehearsing how I’d apologize once he found out what I’d accused him of, even just in my head.

Then, just before midnight, I heard him.

Milo stepped out. And almost immediately, Ethan burst into my room. We were both shaken, whispering over each other, confused and scared. But deep down, we knew. Something was going on.

We didn’t follow him.

We didn’t stop him.

And even if we did, what could we have done? Tie him up? Tell the villagers their beloved guest might be cursed? Ask Milo to empty his pockets for haunted stones?

We didn’t say a word.

We just sat there. Waiting for the next night.

Because we didn’t know if Milo was the victim…or the weapon.

End of Part One

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