The House Mystery

We reached my home. All the windows and doors were tightly shut. We knocked, but there was no response. Eventually, one of the officers forced the door open.

As I stepped inside, I noticed the black bags from the kitchen were gone.

The officers searched the house. Room by room. Then they entered Henry’s bedroom. But again—nothing. No evidence. No clues.

One officer stood near the spot where the secret door lay hidden under the mat. I wanted to speak. I wanted to shout, *“Check under the mat!”* But I froze.

Just then, a calm voice behind us said, “Officers, may I ask why you’ve broken into my house without permission?”

It was Henry.

Everyone turned, startled. No one had heard him enter.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kolkiwn,” the officer said. “Given the circumstances, we had to enter.”

“That’s quite alright, Officer Krilvin,” Henry replied with a faint smile. “You’re just doing your duty. And I, too, am about to begin mine.”

His words chilled me.

The officers apologized and left.

Henry turned to me with a strange smile. Not kind. Not fatherly. Something dark. As he walked away, he whispered, “I think it’s time to pluck the fruit before it spoils.”

*Pluck the fruit? What fruit?* There were no trees in the yard—only dead ones.

That night, for dinner, I was surprised to see pizza on my plate. We usually had only plain bread with soup and vegetables.

Henry walked in and said, “Eat well and stay healthy, my child. You need to be useful to me.”

Then he left the room.

Something was terribly wrong.

After dinner, I felt sleepy and dozed off. In the middle of the night, I heard loud noises. I was too scared to open my eyes. Then came the chanting—this time, closer. In my room.

Suddenly, the chanting stopped. I shut my eyes tightly.

I felt something—or someone—draining energy from my body. I started to feel weak, then lost consciousness.

When I woke up in the morning, I was tired. My arm hurt. I looked down and saw small needle marks. I thought maybe they were mosquito bites.

As usual, Henry stood by the window, watching me leave for school.

At school, I learned that both officers who had visited my house had died under mysterious circumstances.

A flash of everything that had happened rushed into my mind. I ran to my homeroom teacher, crying.

“I don’t want to go back home,” I sobbed. “I’m afraid.”

Mr. Jovik asked, “Does Mr. Henry beat you or hurt you?”

I cried, “No.”

I wanted to tell him everything. But I couldn’t speak—as if someone had clamped my mouth shut. Not physically, but… something unnatural.

Seeing me struggle, Mr. Jovik hugged me and said, “Don’t worry. I can’t help you right now, but I’ll find a way. We’ll try to get you adopted into another family.”

I felt a small sense of relief.

As I was leaving, Kevin stood by the door. He grabbed my hand and pulled me outside to the playground.

“Alex,” he said, “I know something’s wrong. I can feel it. Please tell me—we’ll face it together.”

I broke down and cried. Then I told him everything.

Kevin listened silently. Then he said, “Don’t worry. I’ll help you.”

He made a plan: the next day, we’d both fake being sick and stay home. As soon as Henry left, Kevin would sneak into the house.

We were going to uncover the truth about Henry Kolkiwn.

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