Gloomer stared at the woman in the chair, but he no longer saw a person. It was just a corpse.

  Her eyes had fallen out, leaving behind empty, darkened sockets.

  At least the chair had stopped moving on its own. That realization finally allowed him to pull himself together.

  Gloomer wasn’t a fool.

  He took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to vomit, and forced himself to step closer.

  In his short life, he had witnessed anomalous phenomena hundreds of times, and a rocking chair wasn’t likely to shock him or pose any real threat.

  A corpse is a corpse.

  A corpse couldn’t stand up and grab him by the throat. Couldn’t whisper something from the darkness.

  But the way the woman had died... that mattered.

  If he didn’t figure out what happened here, he could end up in that same chair someday.

  He raised the lamp, carefully examining her body. There were no wounds on the skin. Her clothes were intact, no signs of a struggle. But the eyes... They hadn’t just fallen out — it was like something had forced them out from within.

  Gloomer reached out and gently touched her neck.

  Warm.

  He yanked his hand back.

  Corpses aren’t warm. Not after this long.

  The woman had died recently. But something had happened to her before that. Something that didn’t leave marks but twisted her body from the inside, leaving her like this.

  Her hands still rested on the armrests. As if at the moment of death, she had simply been sitting there.

  Gloomer swallowed.

  This was an unnatural death.

  And it happened just recently.

  He slowly moved through the house, examining the belongings left behind. Everything looked as though people had left just a few hours ago. Half-eaten food on the table, abandoned mugs, even a candle burned down to the base.

  Gloomer turned and stepped outside.

  Rain.

  It was everywhere. It had been falling for three nights now, washing away the ground, filling the air with a wet, rotting smell.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  But if it all happened recently... there had to be tracks.

  Gloomer froze, peering into the mud.

  And there they were.

  Not just human ones.

  The footprints led out of the village, merging with the rain-soaked earth. At first, there were many, then fewer. People had walked in the same direction. But among them were... others. Not human.

  He crouched, squinting.

  The tracks were strange. Some looked like paws, others like human feet — but far too deep.

  As if people had been walking, and then... something changed them.

  Gloomer straightened up and walked forward.

  Rain poured over his shoulders, water running down his face, but he kept going.

  He didn’t know how much time passed. Minutes? Hours?

  The tracks led him to the shore.

  And there... they ended.

  The mud gave way to sand, which the rain had already washed away.

  Gloomer stared ahead.

  The sea.

  It was...

  Black.

  Not dark. Not stormy. But black, like tar. Like a bottomless pit that swallowed light.

  Gloomer slowly stepped back.

  He didn’t know what it was.

  But he wasn’t going to get any closer.

  He knew if he took a single step — the sea would take him.

  He turned and ran back.

  Something was wrong.

  Yes, he realized.

  The rain.

  It was black!

  Not just the sea — even the rain falling from the sky was black, leaving behind a strange, ominous residue.

  Not murky, not dirty — but black, like festering tar.

  How hadn’t he noticed this before?

  Wait...

  Was the water we drank yesterday black too?

  Shit... but we’re still alive. So maybe it’s not that bad.

  As Gloomer made his way back, he tried to piece together the scattered fragments in his mind. But the more he thought, the more he realized — he didn’t have enough information. Too much didn’t add up.

  The rain didn’t stop. Puddles reflected the gray sky, and the streets looked blurred, as if someone had wiped them with a careless brushstroke. In this murky landscape, he spotted a familiar face.

  Kai.

  The teenager known for his rare kindness. Tall, always smiling — but today, he looked different. Older. Tired.

  He was the first to spot Gloomer, but didn’t recognize him right away.

  Gloomer smirked — no surprise there. He was the same as ever, but Kai’s eyesight had always been terrible, and he could barely recognize people from a distance.

  As Gloomer came closer, Kai exclaimed:

  — Gloomer? Shit, when did you get back? I thought maybe you liked it out there so much you forgot about us.

  Gloomer looked at him more closely.

  — God, Kai… You look awful.

  — That’s because I’m allergic to rain, — Kai snorted, but his smile faded quickly. — Can you believe it? Of all possible allergies, I’ve got one to rain. And it only showed up now…

  — You should be grateful, — Gloomer smirked. — As a follower of Mother Nature, you clearly didn’t get it by accident.

  Kai paused for a moment, then nodded.

  — You’re right.

  But Gloomer heard something strange in his voice. Even though he said that, he knew it wasn’t that simple. This rain was far from ordinary.

  — You know… I missed you. But more than that, I missed those little pieces of bread you always gave out. They felt special. You have to let me try one again!

  Kai shook his head, a bit guilty.

  — Sorry, Gloomer. Not happening right now.

  — Why?

  — There’s too little food.

  Raindrops ran down Gloomer’s face, clinging to his hair.

  — The supply stopped, — Kai added quietly. — Nothing’s come in for two days.

  Gloomer didn’t reply.

  His bread was special. Way tastier than anything he’d scavenged from those houses.

  But that didn’t matter.

  Now he was sure.

  Something had happened.

  Something unnatural.

  After talking a bit more, he returned home — the wooden house by the shore — night had already wrapped everything in a heavy, dark blanket. Most were asleep.

  Most.

  Veil sat by the fire. He was fiddling with his clothes, turning his boots over, warming them near the flames.

  Without looking up, he muttered:

  — Gloomer, what, you like walking in the rain now? Usually on days like this, all you do is lie around and complain.

  Gloomer ignored the jab.

  — Veil, I’ve got news. It’s about the adults disappearing.

  Veil sighed heavily.

  — Oh, Gloomer, again? Maybe the adults disappeared because they got sick of us idiots?

  — You know…

  — Seriously, Gloomer. If they come back, just tell them I worked really hard.

  He yawned, stretched out on his mat, pulling an arm under his head.

  — And anyway, if things are that bad, morning won’t change a damn thing, right?

  Gloomer clenched his jaw.

  But said nothing.

  Veil always teased him, thinking Gloomer’s caution was just paranoia.

  Gloomer realized he wouldn’t be able to change Veil’s mind, and with a heavy sigh, he sat in the corner, silently wringing out his wet clothes.

  Morning came quickly.

  But it felt like night had never really ended.

  He got up before everyone else. Quietly, almost noiselessly, he moved toward the exit, trying not to wake anyone.

  He stood there, as if nothing had happened.

  As if the sea had always been black.

  As if the elders and adults had never existed.

  As if he had never heard birdsong.

  As if the guards had never been here either.

  Gloomer blinked, staring at the wet walls of the house.

  He didn’t understand why he ever thought otherwise.