Chapter 3 - STEFANThe village woke to the sound of the siren.
By sunrise, police cars surrounded the forest.
The abandoned ship stood silent between the trees.
The metal door was locked.
From the outside.
Inspector Pavel arrived with six officers.
Ovidiu watched from behind the police line.
Lidia was already there.
She stood beside the road, pale and motionless.
"You knew," Pavel said.
She looked at him.
"I warned you."
"About what?"
"About going inside."
Pavel approached the ship.
The door was covered in strange scratches.
Not random scratches.
Numbers.
Twenty-seven.
Thirty-nine.
Four.
Eight.
They were carved into the steel.
One officer photographed them.
Another tried the handle.
Locked.
From inside.
"Cut it open."
The metal grinder screamed.
Sparks filled the air.
The door finally fell inward.
The smell came first.
Wet earth.
Rotting wood.
Blood.
Then something sweeter.
Like spoiled meat.
Pavel raised his flashlight.
The first room was empty.
The floor was covered in shredded plastic bags.
Dozens of them.
Beef packaging.
But something didn't make sense.
The meat had never been eaten.
Every bag was empty.
As though someone had poured the contents somewhere else.
An officer moved deeper inside.
"There's another door."
They opened it.
A narrow staircase descended into darkness.
Pavel looked at Lidia.
"You said the room was under the ship."
She nodded.
"And Stefan?"
Lidia closed her eyes.
"He's down there."
Two officers descended.
Five seconds later, one shouted.
"Inspector!"
Pavel followed.
At the bottom was a concrete corridor.
The walls were covered with photographs.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Missing people.
Teenagers.
Farmers.
Travelers.
Children.
Some photographs were decades old.
Pavel stepped closer.
He recognized several names.
People officially listed as dead.
People who had supposedly died in accidents.
People whose bodies had never been found.
Then he saw Stefan.
A photograph taken eleven years ago.
Not a funeral photo.
Not an old family picture.
Stefan was standing inside this corridor.
Alive.
Holding a bloodstained knife.
Pavel turned toward Lidia.
"How long?"
She whispered.
"Eleven years."
"Where is he?"
She pointed.
At the end of the corridor was a steel door.
Pavel approached it.
Something was breathing behind it.
Slowly.
Deeply.
He placed his hand on the handle.
A voice came through.
"Inspector?"
Pavel stopped.
The voice sounded like Stefan.
"Is that you?"
"Yes."
Pavel opened the door.
Inside sat a man on the floor.
Thin.
Bearded.
Older.
But unmistakably Stefan.
Pavel stared.
Lidia covered her mouth.
Stefan smiled weakly.
"Mother."
Lidia ran to him.
They embraced.
Ovidiu stood frozen behind Pavel.
The impossible had just become real.
Stefan was alive.
And he had been hidden beneath the ship for eleven years.
But then Pavel noticed something.
Stefan wasn't alone.
Around him were twelve people.
All alive.
All terrified.
All staring at the police.
A little girl clutched a blanket.
A middle-aged woman was crying.
An old man stared at Pavel and whispered:
"You shouldn't have opened the door."
Pavel turned.
"Why?"
The old man pointed toward the ceiling.
"Because now they know where we are."
Then all the lights went out.
May you like
And somewhere above them...
something began walking.
