Juson drove considerably faster than he normally would have, though he scarcely realized his foot had continued pressing the accelerator harder with each passing minute. The city around him had already surrendered itself to the late hours of the evening. Shops stood dark behind their shutters, intersections remained almost deserted, and only rows of widely spaced streetlights stretched ahead like pale islands floating within an ocean of darkness. Their light swept rhythmically across the windshield before vanishing behind him, leaving the road empty once again. Inside the car, however, silence brought him no comfort. His thoughts refused to settle upon a single idea, circling endlessly around the same fragments that had haunted him ever since leaving Hakiten's house. The folded papers lying hidden inside the trunk seemed heavier now than when he had first discovered them. Attempt 4. The words continued echoing through his mind with unsettling persistence. So did the fragmented sentences scattered across those strange pages. None of them made complete sense individually, yet together they carried an inexplicable familiarity, as though he had encountered them long ago and forgotten everything except the lingering feeling they left behind. Most disturbing of all was the impossible conviction growing steadily within him that the handwriting somehow belonged to himself. Every attempt to dismiss the thought only strengthened it. Then his mind drifted once more toward Hakiten. Their conversation replayed repeatedly, but each repetition made his friend appear slightly different. The calmness had felt rehearsed. The explanations had arrived too quickly. Even the pauses between his words now seemed unnatural. Juson tightened both hands around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned pale, unconsciously trying to steady a growing unease that refused to leave him.
The quiet rhythm of the engine was suddenly interrupted by another sound. At first it reached him only faintly, hidden somewhere beyond the buildings lining the next street. It resembled the distant approach of another vehicle moving rapidly through otherwise empty roads. Juson instinctively eased his foot from the accelerator as he entered a narrower lane where the surrounding houses stood much closer together. The unfamiliar engine noise grew louder with surprising speed, reverberating sharply between concrete walls until it seemed to surround him entirely. A brilliant flash of white headlights suddenly burst across the road ahead, momentarily overwhelming his vision. Juson reacted immediately, pressing the brakes while shielding his eyes instinctively against the glare. Before he could fully understand what had happened, a police vehicle shot past the intersection directly in front of him. Its blue emergency lights reflected violently across his windshield, casting brief pulses of cold colour throughout the interior of the car before vanishing into the darkness ahead. He remained motionless for only an instant before noticing another vehicle following close behind. This time it was an ambulance. Unlike the police car, however, it moved with unsettling restraint. Its emergency lights rotated silently across the empty street, yet no siren accompanied them. The absence of urgency disturbed Juson far more than blaring alarms would have. An ambulance travelling quietly behind a police vehicle suggested something had already happened. Something beyond rescue. Without consciously intending to, one single name surfaced immediately inside his thoughts.
Hakiten.
The possibility struck him with such force that his breathing momentarily slowed. He considered accelerating after both vehicles, considered forcing them to stop and demanding answers before they disappeared into the night. Yet reason overcame impulse almost immediately. He did neither. Instead, he quietly released the brake, guided the car forward once more, and continued driving along his original route. The roads gradually curved toward the large roundabout that marked the entrance to Hakiten's neighborhood. Every metre brought an almost physical increase in the weight pressing against his chest. The familiar streets looked strangely unfamiliar now beneath the artificial glow of the overhead lamps. Houses emerged and disappeared beyond carefully trimmed hedges while trees cast restless shadows across the pavement despite the stillness of the night. Juson's heartbeat became increasingly noticeable within the silence of the vehicle, each steady thump seeming louder than the quiet hum of the engine itself. He entered the roundabout slowly, scanning the surrounding streets almost automatically. The area remained brightly illuminated beneath evenly spaced streetlights, yet something immediately felt wrong. Three neighbouring houses near the center of the circle remained completely dark, untouched by interior lights despite the late hour. The middle house belonged to Hakiten.
Juson stopped the car almost instinctively.
He stepped outside before the engine had fully settled into silence, leaving the driver's door hanging open behind him without even thinking to close it. The cool night air struck his face immediately, carrying with it a faint chill that seemed colder than the actual temperature should have allowed. He barely noticed it. His attention had already fixed itself upon the house standing ahead. Walking quickly across the short distance separating him from the entrance, he suddenly slowed. Then stopped altogether. The front door stood wide open. Not simply ajar, but damaged. A long crack split diagonally across its wooden surface, beginning near the upper corner and extending almost to the opposite side as though something with tremendous force had struck it from within or without. Juson remained completely still, staring at the fractured entrance while trying unsuccessfully to convince himself there must be an ordinary explanation. Beyond the doorway, only dim interior lighting remained visible. It spread weakly across the floor before disappearing into deeper darkness farther inside the house, revealing almost nothing beyond the immediate entrance. Every instinct he possessed urged him to turn around, return to his car, and leave before becoming involved in whatever had happened there. Yet another part of him, quieter but infinitely stronger, refused to obey.
Before crossing the threshold, Juson slowly looked around the neighborhood one final time. Several apartment balconies overlooking Hakiten's house were still occupied despite the late hour. Figures stood silently behind railings, partially concealed by darkness, watching the damaged house with the peculiar stillness shared by people pretending not to watch at all. The moment Juson's eyes lifted toward them, several neighbours quietly stepped backward into their homes, allowing curtains and darkness to conceal them once more. None called out. None offered explanation. None even acknowledged his presence. Their silence felt deliberate, almost fearful, as though everyone had witnessed something they preferred never to speak about again. Juson turned back toward the doorway. The closer he stood to the entrance, the heavier the atmosphere surrounding the building became. It did not resemble ordinary silence. It possessed weight. Pressure. The sensation of walking into a place that had witnessed violence and continued remembering it long after every sound had disappeared. Drawing one slow breath, Juson finally stepped across the broken threshold. The instant his foot touched the wooden floor inside, an inexplicable heaviness settled around him. The air itself seemed unnaturally dense, almost difficult to breathe, as though the house had been holding its breath since the moment something terrible had occurred within its walls. Behind him, the distant street remained quiet beneath the lamps. Ahead of him, deeper inside the darkness where the dim hallway disappeared from sight, something unseen waited in complete silence. Even without seeing it, Juson understood one thing with absolute certainty.
Something inside the house was terribly, impossibly wrong.