"YOU DAMN BRAT, GET UP RIGHT NOW! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT TIME IT IS ALREADY? GO WASH UP AND GET TO SXHOOL! KEEP THIS UP AND NO ONE WILL EVER MARRY YOU!"
The hoarse shout, worn down by the weight of old age, echoed throughout the house.
But the boy being scolded... had been awake for a long time already.
Long (his name is Long) sat motionless on his bed, his back pressed against the cold wall. In his hand, his phone played the same recording again the familiar voice of his grandfathe. Each time it echoed through the room, his heart trembled as if someone were squeezing it tight.
And no matter how hard he tried, tears still slipped quietly down his cheeks.
"Grandpa... Grandpa... hic.."
His voice broke apart, swallowed by sobs he had held back for far too long. His grandfather had been gone for a year now, yet the pain remained as vivid as if it had happened only yesterday a wound that never healed, bleeding anew at the slightest touch.
Truong Long was fifteen years old thin, small framed, with unkempt hair and a pale face devoid of the vitality someone his age should have. In this grandfather had been his only family.
Since birth, Long had never once seen his parents. He knew they were still alive his mother did not want to meet him, and his grandfather had never allowed him to see his father. Why ?, Long did not know. And he had never dared to ask.
From childhood until now, it had always been just the two of them. His grandfather raised him with unwavering love, providing not only for his needs, but also for heart.
That peaceful life ended on Long's fourteenth birthday.
That day, rain poured relentlessly from the sky. Thunder cracked violently, as if the heavens themselves were tearing apart.
Long sat inside the house, gently swinging his legs in anticipation, waiting for his grandfather to return with his birthday cake. Beside him sat Liam, Liam is his best friend.
Liam was tall and broad shouldered for his age. He came from England and suffered from albinism, his hair a striking shade of white, his pale skin only adding to an oddly captivanting presence. his features were sharp and refined, his gaze deep and distant carrying an unspoken authority, as if he always stood half a step above others.
Liam had moved to Vietnam at the age of seven. That was when he met Long, and the two had been inseparable ever since.
If Long was sensitive and emotional, then Liam was decisive and strong willed, always the one to step forward in difficult stiuations. They were complete opposties yet somehow. They became best friends. So close that Long once beliveved Liam was like a brother to him.
Until the moment the door burst open.
A thunderclap shook the sky.
Long's grandfather stood at the doorway, his entire body soaked in blood so much that it was impossible to tell how much of it was his.
Long's world froze.
"Grandpa!!! Oh God Grandpa, are you okay?!"
He rushed forward, hands trembling as he tried to reach him only to pull back at the last second, terrified that he might make things worse.
"I... I need to call an ambulance..."
His voice shool uncontrollably. Liam spoke up immediately, far calmer than he should have been.
"I've alreedy celled. They'll be here soon. Help Mr. Nam sit down and get the first aid kit."
Mr. Nam raised his hand slightly, shaking his head with a faint smile.
"It's not necessary... you two."
He placed a hand on Long's shoulder. It was cold fat too cold.
"I'm sorry, my boy. From now on... I won't be able to take care of you anymore."
Long shook his head frantically.
"You are my pride. Both of you Liam as well. I love you both dearly."
His voice weakened.
"It's my fault... I was once a soldier... once... "
He paused, letting out a shallow breath.
"I'm ashamed that I lacked the resolve... and ended up burdening your futures."
"Grandpa... what are you saying?" Long cried. "I don't understand... please don't lave me..."
Mr. Nam lifted his hand, still clutching the box containing Long's birthday cake.
"Happy birthday, my boy."
Then he turned to Liam.
"Take care of him... For me."
Blood spilled from his mouth.
Mr. Nam did not fall. Even as his breath ceased and blood stained his worn shirt, he remained upright, leaning against the wooden door like a statue carved from pain and pride. His eyes remained open, fixed on Long with a protective vow that never wavered. His calloused hands still gripped the birthday cake box, refusing to let go even after life had fled his veins. He died standing just as an old soldier refuses to surrender to fate.
Long wrapped his arms around him, screaming until his throat burned raw. That day, the rain fell harder than over drowing the world in its relentless downpour.
Liam stood frozen. His fist clenched tightly before slamming into the wooden door, cracking it apart.
"Fuck..."
In the days that followed, the investigation, yielded nothing. The police found a will on Mr. Nam's body witten long before that day.
The final conclusion: suicide.
All of his assets including the fram were left to Long. Until Long turned eighteen, an old comrade from the war, Mr Doan, would temporarily manage everything before transferring ownership.
As for Long... he locked himself away.
He didn't see anyone. He didn't go to school.
The pain in his chest felt like thousands of dull knives slowly carving into him. The more he remembered his grandfather, the deeper the agony grew.
The school tried to persuade him to return.
But Liam never visited.
When Long finally forced himself back to class, Liam had changed distant, cold, avoiding him entirely.
Lonely as he mas, Long endured. The entrance exam was approaching. He had promised his grandfather he would become a doctor. He could not break that promise.
Then, after the exam, everything worsened.
Liam began to bully him.
No one stopped it.
Shool became a living hell. But what hurt most wasn't the abuse it was fact that he one infliciting it was the person Long had once called family.
After losing his grandfather, what Long received in received in return were judgmental stares, whispered rumors, and the cold indifference of teachers as if the entire world had turned its back on him.
He broke completely.
And then, a thought surfaced:
"If the world doesn't need me... then what's the point of my existence ?"
Summer arrived.
The pressent.
Long turned off the recording of his grandfather"s voice and stepped off his bed. His movements were sluggish, his footsteps echoing loudly in the suffocating silence of the house.
Mem tractor where he once sar behind his grandfather, eating ice cream as they talked under the organge glow of dusk.
The shed where his grandfather used to carve wooden swords just for him.
He wanted to cry. But he had already cried too much.
Long lit a stick of incense before the altar.
"Please... let me come with you"
He smiled... a peacefull smile , as if he had let go of everything.
The chair fell.
His body hung in the air, thrashing instinctively. His lungs burned. His vision narrowed.
As consciousness faded, his grandfather's voice echoed in his mind:
"You damned brat."
Long jolted.
The rope snapped.
He crashed to the floor. Wood splintered violently beneath him. Gasping for air, Long tore the rope from his neck, breathing as though he had just been dragged back from the depths of the ocean.
He looked up at his grandfather's portrait.
It felt as if… his grandfather had saved him.
His hand brushed against the cracked floorboards. A faint light seeped through the gap.
His heart pounded.
Prying the boards open, Long froze.
Beneath the house… was a hidden basement.
A basement he had never known existed.
Fear surged within him but curiosity pushed him forward.
With a flashlight in hand, Long descended into the damp, pitch-black space. His footsteps echoed, each one amplifying his unease.
At the end of the passage, he stopped.
Before him stood a massive stone gate its surface engraved with strange, ancient symbols glowing faintly.
Before he could think, his hand reached out.
Light exploded.
The space trembled.
The gate opened.
Long took a step back.
His breathing turned shallow and uneven, his heart pounding so violently it felt as though it might burst from his chest. Cold sweat trickled down his spine, and his hand trembled around the flashlight, causing the beam to shake uncontrollably.
This was impossible.
A stone gate.
Ancient symbols glowing with an unnatural light.
The space beyond it warped and distorted, like a twisted dream bleeding into reality.
This was not something a normal person could simply accept.
Long turned around.
Behind him, the staircase disappeared into darkness, gaping like the open maw of a beast. All he had to do was climb back up, seal the floor, and pretend he had never seen any of this.
At the very least… he could lie to himself.
But the image of his grandfather collapsing in a pool of blood surged into his mind.
"Who… were you really?"
His voice trembled, so quiet he almost couldn't hear it himself.
If his grandfather had truly been nothing more than a retired soldier then what was this?
Questions flooded his thoughts, crushing his chest until it hurt to breathe. Fear and anger tangled together into a chaotic knot inside him.
His entire life, he had only ever had one family member.
And that person… had hidden an entire world from him.
Long clenched his fist.
"If you were still alive… you would explain it to me, wouldn't you?"
There was no answer.
Only the silent glow of the gate, pulsing faintly, as if it were waiting.
Long swallowed hard.
He was afraid.
But he had already been afraid enough to want to die.
Compared to the hollow emptiness he had felt standing before his grandfather's altar… this fear was something he could endure.
Besides
He had already lost everything.
If what lay ahead was hell, then at the very least, he wanted to know why he had been pushed toward it.
Long stepped forward.
The light swallowed him whole.