Part 1

The dark, thick forest road is drenched in heavy rain, as a single car struggles on the slick surface, its traction slipping away like sand between fingers. Inside were three members of a family bound by love and tragedy: the 24-year-old youth (Elara) and his parents in the front. The father, sitting at the helm, was trying hard to make it steady, but nature was not on his side. The car slides off the road, crashing hard against a giant tree, its branches almost mourning the fate below them. The life of the father was gone in the blink of an eye; a brutal reality smeared with madness. His wife, stunned and weakened, awoke just long enough to glance over and see her son slumped in the back seat, unconscious and bleeding. Her heart, though battered, clung to life for him. She could manage to crawl out of the wreckage just enough; her body wracked in pain and pull her battered child out of the wreckage of the car.

Her trembling fingers cried and dialed out a number for help; her broken voice cut into sobs as the rain washed away the tears she couldn’t shed. When the ambulance arrived, the view of the case scene was screaming more than words ever could. Witnesses stood frozen, staring not at the destroyed car but at the poignant love written around it. They saw her. The lady who called for help was just outside the wreckage, lying there, hugging her son for the last time. She protected him until her last breath, her body a shield against the rough storm.

The paramedics speed to her side; their hearts heavy with the drama being unfolded before their very eyes. Silent sobs escaped their eyes as they looked upon her—her arms clutching her son, a final act of devotion on the edge of impossibility. The boy was led off to the emergency ward, his frail life hanging on a thread. In the meantime, the authorities collected the dead bodies of his parents. his father by the merciless act, and his mother by the boundless love that would not release. In the hospital, the boy gains his consciousness, and in a minute his world comes to be shattered. The news sliced through his very existence: his father was gone, and his mother had sacrificed everything to save him. Their lives were taken by the car accident but could not shatter the eternal tie of love she had shown. That love remained, a haunting but beautiful reminder of a mother’s sacrifice, branded into the hearts of those who witnessed her final hug.

The funeral the next morning was a mournful occasion with a gray sky. All were gathered around Elara, regrets and whispers blending with the eerie silence of mourning. He sat beside his dead parents’ bodies, crying like a child who has lost everything, his broken heart yearning for a day when life was whole, when they were still alive. The air was heavy with grief as the priest began the funeral rites, his voice trembling in reverence. The earth held the dead tight as the funeral drew to a close. One by one, the mourners at the funeral were filing out of the graveyard, leaving Elara behind, standing in his sorrow. He remained, kneeling among the graves, holding them as lifelines, tears streaming unbridled. “How do I live without you? I can’t,” he whispered through tears, his voice trembling with desperation.

The silence enveloped him until a soft, ethereal voice broke through an ache so solid it pierced his very heart. “Elara,” it breathed. He raised his tear-stained face and froze as he saw them. There, just ahead, stood his parents. They radiated, smiling warmly, though not so much together anymore. His mother, her voice soft but firm, spoke words that seared his heart. “I’m sorry, son. This is the end for us. We could not remain with you anymore. I wish I had more time with you. You have to leave us behind; you have to live your life for us. We will be watching you from above in the sky. Never feel alone.” Her words were bitter with comfort, but Elara’s tears would not stop. He nodded slowly, shaking, as his father and mother smiled at him, their faces creased with boundless love and pride. “Be careful, son,” they whispered, their voices hanging in the air like dying echoes. Then, like strands of light, they disappeared into the emptiness, leaving only the gentle rustle of the wind.

Elara stood still, staring into the emptiness where they had been It’s dark all around, so he has no other option but to leave his parents’ graves behind. Slowly, slowly, he returns home, his tears falling like rain, his soul lost in the depths of sorrow. Everything around him is foggy, and he doesn’t even notice when his footsteps on something on the road. But somewhere out of sight, someone notices a figure, upset and not pleased at all with what was on the road under his careless step.

The moon glows brightly above as somehow Elara reached his home. In a rush, he bursts into his parents’ room. He flings open the door with his trembling hand and is overwhelmed by memories like a stormy tide that can overwhelm him. He can see them there, his father, his mother, and his own young self, laughing and joking, his father joking about his fat belly, playfully referring to him as an old uncle. The laughter, the joyfulness, it was all so real that for a split second, he could have touched it. But the vision breaks, leaving the aching emptiness. Elara comes in, sits on the bedside bed, and his gaze falls on their smiling family picture. He reaches for it, his hands trembling as he clutches the photo frame against him. Tears overflow as he hugs the picture to his chest, curling into a ball on the floor. He cries without effort, every sob spilling his broken heart into the room’s silence. But the silence is not empty. In the window, a shadow patiently waits, watching. Its shape is unclear, its presence unsettling. But tired, with all strength spent, Elara doesn’t notice. He digs deeper into his grief and falls into a restless sleep.

The sun rises with the biting yapping of his neighbor’s dog, pulling Elara back into the waking world. He rubbed his puffy eyes and stumbled to the door. He opens it to find a man standing on the other side, one around his age, with a sharp face and a beautiful smile. Elara blinks at him, his voice shattering the haze: “What are you doing on my home?”

The man, unabashed, stares for a moment too long before snapping out of his daze when Elara impatiently clicks his fingers in front of his face. A smile spreads across the stranger’s face, a smile too wide, too gleeful. “My name is Devilin,” the man begins, his voice smooth yet disarming. “I’m new to this town and searching for a rental place. Everything that I could find is out of my price range, and so I thought that maybe I could ask if you have a room for rent.” Elara, still an empty vessel of grief, immediately replies, “No,” and slams the door closed without a second thought. Outside the window, he sees Devilin leave, his pace slow, deliberate, and somehow untouched.

The day drags on. Elara stays within his parents’ room, fasting, saturated to the point of bursting with the memories that inscribe every inch. But hunger drew at him in the evening, forcing him to leave in search of food. At the food stall, he sees Devilin sitting on the roadside stairs, his body limp, his face looking sad. Elara ignores the view and walks away, buying his supper without looking up. But going back, there Devilin remains still, as if the passage of time has no grasp on him. Elara hesitates, conflicted. Something drives him back to Devilin. Quietly, he approaches and offers his food. “You might be starving,” he whispers, his tone filled with both compassion and an unnatural unease.

Devilin looks up, his face unreadable at first. Then, at last, he sets to take the food, moving with caution, nearly calculated. He wears a smile too good and sits down to eat. Elara asks him to come and stay at his place for rent. Devilin had nodded to him, and they went home together but there didn’t appear to be anything right while going home in their presence. Something nagged at the edge; the food remained untouched, yet somehow Devilin did eat.

They got home, and the neighbor’s dog, Love, growled at Devilin. Elara ignored it as the dog just reacting to an unfamiliar face. He went in first, but Devilin lingered, staring at the dog with an unsettling intensity. Love’s growling ceased, and there was a whining silence, as if fear had gripped the poor creature. Devilin went in, his lips curling into an odd smile, a smile aimed at the dog. Love, adopted by the elderly couple who resided next door, was once an abused dog with a rather complicated past. The elderly man, Mr. Peat, and Mrs. Mira had offered the dog a sanctuary, and Love had grown familiar with Elara over the years. But Devilin’s coming seemed to awaken something deep within the dog, a fear that silenced even its protective instincts.

The doorbell suddenly interrupted the breaking silence. It was Elara who replied, finding Mr. Peat and Mrs. Mira there with warm smiles and a food basket in hand. He opened the door for them, their kindness healing his shattered heart. They sat on the sofa, their tone gentle as they consoled him, assuring him that he could count on them like family. Their words carried the warmth of grandparents’, and Elara felt a glimpse of comfort in his grief. Deserting the food, they departed, their presence lingering like a warm hug.

Devilin emerged from the shower, half-naked with a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. His physique was striking, each muscle sculpted to perfection, his abs a beauty that would make anyone’s imagination wild. Elara was there, taken aback by his breath, not being able to look away. Devilin’s mischievous grin widened further as he teased, “Are you hungry?”

Elara was puzzled and flustered, stuttering, “No.”

Devilin leaned forward, his voice thick with mocking taunt. “If you are not hungry, then why are you looking at me like this as if you would eat me up alive?”

Elara snapped back; his tone filled with shame. “You are full of yourself. I am not into men.”

But Devilin wasn’t done. Closing the distance, he brought his face inches from Elara’s, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “But I’m,” he whispered, his words hanging in the air like a challenge. Elara’s heart raced, fear and indignation colliding as he raised his hand, ready to push Devilin away. But before he could act, Devilin pulled back, holding the food basket with a grin. The night was unusually still, with the only sound a faint rustle of the wind on the windows. They had finished their supper, savored every bite, and parted to their rooms, wishing each other goodnight.

Elara cowered on his bed, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts filled with visions of his mother—her comforting smile, the soft embrace when he had nightmares, and now, none to hold him, no soft voice telling him that it would be all right. Empty loneliness enveloped him like a cloak as tears dropped, forming frosted tracks down his face. Holding a pillow close, he clung to it and ultimately slept. But then—a jarring, sudden noise shattered the precarious peace. His eyes sprang open, his heart thumping hard against the walls of his chest. There was something in the house. He held his breath, trapped; ears perked in the thick blackness. Was there someone inside? Fear crawled up his spine like cold fingers. His grip on his father’s hiking stick, now his only weapon, increased. Silently, he stood, not desiring to make a noise, and crept toward the location. The noise the unmistakable shuffle of motion was in the kitchen.

The kitchen door was ajar, creaking ever so slightly as if to welcome him in. Fear gnawed at his resolve, but he must know. He must see with agonizing gentleness; he opened his hand and switched on the light. His breath caught. His eyes went out of focus. A blood-curdling scream tore through the house. He lost his consciousness. Devilin rushed into the kitchen, the scream still echoing in his ears. His gaze settled on Elara’s who is unconsciously lying on the floor. Panic gripped him as he tore towards him, picking him up in his arms and pulling him to the sitting room. Grabbing a glass of water, he sprinkled drops on Elara’s pale face.

Elara’s eyelids fluttered open. He gasped, eyes dashing crazily before he stuttered, “Gho…ost. Ghost!”

Devilin squinted at Elara, pretending to be just as spooked. “I… I’ve seen it too,” he whispered in a deep, dramatic voice. Elara clung to Devilin’s arm, trembling. His eyes darted around the house like he expected the ghost to leap out at any second. Devilin, though, was secretly enjoying the closeness, his lips twitching as he fought back a grin. “See,” Devilin continued softly, “when people die with unfinished wishes, they become ghosts. They haunt in search of someone who will make their wishes fulfilled, and the moment that person does, the ghost will take them away with them.” Elara’s grip was so hard on Devilin that he didn’t know whether his arm was going numb or not. With Elara completely paralyzed with fear, Devilin could no longer hold it in himself he burst out laughing. Elara’s white face scrunched up in annoyance. He pushed Devilin aside. “You’re kidding me! I really did see a ghost! The jar of water was floating! There was this weird creaking sound!” Devilin wiped away a tear that had formed in his eye, still smiling. “Okay, okay, fine.

Let’s go check out your floating jar ghost.” Elara dug his heels into the ground. “I’m staying here. “You go.” With exaggerated confidence, Devilin strode into the kitchen. He took a look around, expecting to see nothing and so, it turned out there was nothing. Besides the open window and a black cat sitting outside, staring at him, meowing with outrage. The wind groaned the window, that creepy creaking sound. Devilin stared for a moment before smirking. He walked back out and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Your ghost? More like a very judgmental cat and a drafty window.”

Elara peeked through the door. Upon seeing the feline culprit, his fear melted into embarrassment. “Oh…”

Devilin laughed again, harder this time. “A floating water jar, huh?”

Elara huffed, crossing his arms. “I’m still not going to my room alone.”

Devilin rolled his eyes but patted Elara’s shoulder. “Okay, I’ll sit with you. But for goodness’ sake, are you a baby to think ghosts are real?” Elara subsided into silence, gazing at the floor. “Something happened to me in the past,” he breathed. “I can’t let it go. It still haunts me.”

Devilin’s mocking expression eased. “Hey… Sorry I laughed.” He playfully pushed Elara. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here. You don’t have to bear it alone.” Elara smiled weakly, although his eyes remained rimmed with sadness. “Thanks. I get laughed at about this in general, so I’m used to it.” Devilin relaxed back with a grin. “Well, lucky you, you’ve got me and I’m not really bad.” Elara smiled softly, “Debatable.” They sat together, the past fear dissipating into warmth and silence. Elara later falls asleep and leans on Devilin’s shoulder. Devilin was happy to see him sleeping so sweetly. “You are too cute sleeping that way. I cannot look away from you.” Devilin softly stroked Elara’s cheeks and patted his head, and he too fell asleep.

The sun shone softly through the curtains, bathing the room in a golden glow. Elara awoke, his eyes fighting to open to find himself snuggled warmly in Devilin’s arms on the couch. “Shit! what am I doing here with him? How did I end up here like this?” Elara questions himself. His heart pounded as last night’s events came rushing back. Gradually, he began to pull himself free, slowly moving his body so as not to make any noise that would wake Devilin up. Devilin was already awake; however, his eyes were shut tightly as he pretended to sleep. A wicked smile twisted the edges of his mouth as he felt Elara’s soft, cautious touch. He did not stir, the moment cherished, the warmth of Elara still in his arms.

Elara sneaked to his bedroom, while going he looked at Devilin, who seemed peacefully sleeping. “Thank God.” He snuck in and made his way straight to the shower. As the warm water pouring down, his mind went back to the events of the last night. His face flushed with shame. “What was I doing last night? Now he knows that I fear ghosts. He’ll never get over this topic.”

He finished, dressed quickly, and tiptoed quietly downstairs, taking care not to run into Devilin. His steps were light as he passed by the sofa, upon which Devilin slept. He reached the front door and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God that he’s still asleep,” he muttered to himself but just as he was turning the handle, a familiar voice bellowed after him from behind. “Sneaking off without saying a good morning?” Elara froze, his face heating up as he turned to see Devilin leaning against the doorway, arms crossed and a playful smirk on his face. “You’re impossible,” Elara grumbled, trying to hide his flustered expression.

Devilin chuckled, stepping closer. “You know, you’re adorable when you’re embarrassed.” Elara groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I knew it. You’re never going to let me live this topic down.”

Devilin relaxed, releasing Elara’s hands from his face. “Relax. I’m not teasing you… much.” His voice gentled; his eyes warmed. “But in all seriousness, last night was sort of fun.” Elara blinked, his heart leaping again. “Fun?” Devilin shrugged, his grin shifting to a real smile. “Yeah. I don’t mind being your ghostbuster.” Elara couldn’t help but laugh, the tension dissipating. “You’re ridiculous.” and you’re stuck with me,” Devilin replied, a wider smile spreading on his lips.” He asks Elara “Where are you off to so early in the morning?” To see how the mart is doing,” Elara answered. “My parents are no longer with me, so now it’s my turn. Elara rushed out at sunrise, proceeding to the city’s main street, where his family mart, “Hope,” was located. As his parents were no longer there to manage it, the responsibility had fallen on him. He needed to check on the staff and ensure everything was going smoothly. Elara turned around before leaving, stating, “Since you’re a paying guest at my place, make yourself at home in the kitchen, but clean up after yourself, and one last thing: never enter my mom and dad’s room.” With that, he strode off into the thronging city, leaving Devilin to marvel at the unspoken weight in his last words.

Elara visited the mart, greeted by its staff, Liana and Dewin. “Visit more frequently at the mart, sir; without you, we are doomed,” joked Liana to Elara. The three had bonded since the initial job interviews, and their bond felt like family.

Liana to Elara: “How do you feel now? If you are not okay, go home and rest properly; we will run the mart, don’t worry.” Dewin nodded in a gesture of yes. Elara informed them that he is okay but still lacking something from his life without his parents. He is recovering, so he assures them that he is okay, and they shouldn’t worry about him. He wears the mart’s apron to start to work.

He was looking into sales records, so deep in thought that he didn’t notice someone standing right in front of him. He was interrupted with a beautiful bouquet presented to him. “Liana, I’m not in the mood to take flowers. Don’t disturb me while I’m working.” He looked up slowly and knew someone he was so glad to see, immediately getting up from the chair and embracing him very tightly. They embraced each other for some time. That person was Elara’s best friend, Kai, who had been in the USA working on his family business for quite a while. His whole family had moved their home to the USA last year. This time he had come back to his country to settle and to do the business that he loved the most. Kai was a fashion designer, but his real passion was photography.

Elara: “I am so happy that you are here. I missed you so much when you were not here.”

Kai: “Don’t worry, I am here now.” Sorry not to be around for you at your moment of need.”

Elara pointed at “no.” You are the only person with me whenever I am in a negative or positive state. Furthermore, what a sudden appearance you are present here.”

Kai: “Since I am here now, I will protect you from everything.” Elara flatters and said that yeah, he can count on Kai.

Elara: “I wish to tell you so much about everything. Would you mind staying in my place, please?”

Kai can’t help Elara’s adorable pleadings, so he agreed, and Elara leaped for joy. Liana and Dewin greeted Kai, and Elara left home with Kai.

No one knew that Kai had a secret in his heart: a silent respect for Elara that he had never expressed. Under the fond hug, the friendly words, and the smile, Kai covered up feelings more profound than friendship. His eyes lingered a second longer, his heartbeat quickened when Elara spoke, but he kept his feelings tucked away, knowing that for now, they must remain hidden.

Upon arriving home, they placed his suitcases and stepped inside the house. As Kai entered, an eerie sensation gripped him, a tension in the air like an ethereal presence. His gut seemed to whisper things he could not make out clearly. He entered the house, his eyes landing squarely on Devilin, who sat on the couch, observing them with a serene but unreadable countenance. Elara introduced him as a paying guest who had arrived the day before yesterday. They exchanged grins, but Kai felt something was off, some undercurrent beneath Devilin’s polite smile, something that raised his hackles in goosebumps.

Kai glared. “Huh! Devilin! What a name! Are you a devil?” His voice had a bite, with an icy interest rather than amusement. Elara moved quickly, sensing the shift in mood, but Devilin remained calm. “My late mother gave me my name,” he explained smoothly. “She liked the sweetness of vanilla but didn’t find that firm enough, so she added to it, and here I have it.” His tone was flat, his explanation simple, but there was something to it that felt like it had been hiding something.

Elara sighed, cutting through the tension. “That’s enough, guys.” Kai, let me take you to my room; I must tell you everything that happened during your absence.” As Kai and his friend turned the corner, Kai looked back one last time at Devilin, his expression neutral. The tension hadn’t left him.

Monika Satvājyet Sunuwar