MBOMEN 02

Episode 2. Things That Should Not Be Seen (2)
2023.12.02

Lyla stood frozen, unable to even breathe. She wished she could faint, but not even that would come to her.

The pitch-black holes stared back at her trembling figure.

The children’s forms were merely gray—aside from the empty sockets where their eyes should’ve been, they didn’t look much different from living children. Realizing that made Lyla’s stomach twist.

“Come here.”

Just then, a pair of male arms wrapped around her, as if to pull her close. Only then did Lyla snap out of her frozen state.

It was a warmth she had rarely even felt from her own mother. The moment it touched her, her mind buzzed and heat surged through her body.

“What are you doing?!”

As Lyla turned her head, the man leaned forward, peeking over her shoulder.

Startled, Lyla nearly kissed his cheek. She flailed, trying to escape his hold, but his grip was unnaturally strong.

“I’m sorry. Just stay still for a moment. That’s it…”

One of his arms loosened. She could have escaped more easily now, but for some reason, she stayed put and followed his lead. It wasn’t what she wanted… and that was the strangest part.

Why don’t I want to disobey this man?

While Lyla was lost in that odd thought, the man fiddled with an ornament attached to the side of his monocle. A sound like winding gears echoed—click, click—and the man said,

“Ah, now I see clearly. You really do have good eyes… Good. Stay just like that.”

“What are you even saying? We need to run away right now!”

Lyla shouted with all her might, but what reached her ears was barely louder than a mosquito’s buzz. The man glanced at her with his bare eye, the one without the monocle.

“It’s okay. You’ll be fine. I’m here.”

“Fine? What part of this is—!”

And then it began.

From the children’s eyes—or rather, the empty sockets where their eyes had been—something began to ooze out, just like with Tommy.

Some looked like thread-thin snakes. Others resembled centipedes. Some looked like tangled, knotted cobwebs. All were horrifying, and even more horrifying was that they were slithering toward Lyla.

As she screamed and tried to shove the man away, everything in front of her went pitch black. She panicked.

“I can’t see! Oh god, I can’t see anything!”

“Shh. Calm down. Open your eyes. Look straight ahead.”

“What are you talking about?! My eyes are open—!”

It was as if her voice and breath had hit a wall. She couldn’t see anything. But the moment she forced her eyelids open, her vision snapped back into focus.

“You see it now, don’t you?”

The man, still holding her close with one arm, had his head near her shoulder, looking straight ahead. That’s when Lyla realized something odd.

When she first encountered Tommy alone, he had definitely tried to attack her.

His mouth had twisted into a hideous grin, and his hostility had been unmistakable. If this man hadn’t appeared, she would surely have died.

But these twelve ghosts in front of her were different. Against her will, she felt their emotions pouring into her—hatred, rage, and endless fear.

Fear? You are afraid? Of what?

—Ugh… khhh…

—Heh… hehehe…

The children began making eerie sounds. Not human, not beast—something else. Lyla’s fingers, her shoulders, her stiffened knees all trembled.

Then the man whispered,

“They know now. That you are one who can see.”

“What are you… talking about? I don’t understand a thing—”

“You will.”

He pulled a small box from his leather bag. With one flick, the lid popped open, and a thin chain floated up from inside, rising into the air.

At that moment, the children’s jaws dropped open wide—so wide they nearly touched their necks. Their mouths tore at the edges, revealing pitch-black voids. Then came the scream, enough to split the sky.

—AAAAAAARGHH!!

Stop!

Lyla couldn’t even form the words aloud. Her head felt like it was going to explode.

Their shrieks, those bone-chilling howls, rammed into her skull like heavy rocks.

Make it stop! My head—please, stop!

Then she heard the man’s voice.

“Brass soldier by the window, broken spoon by the hearth.”

—Kiiiiek…

—Keeek, gkrrrk…

The box rattled. Even as she screamed from the splitting pain in her head, Lyla couldn’t look away. The ghostly forms began to distort, grotesquely. Just like Tommy had—but this time, there were far too many.

“When all things are in their proper place…”

The chain shot forward like an arrow, slicing through the air with a piercing sound.

It was only the length of a necklace chain, but now it seemed endlessly long. It wrapped around the writhing ghosts, tangling them together.

When the man extended the box, the chain hissed and reeled back in, vanishing into the container. The lid shut with a click, and the screams scraping at Lyla’s brain vanished. The ghosts were gone as if they’d never been.

Cold sweat ran down her forehead. Only then did Lyla realize she was still almost buried in the man’s arms. She stumbled back.

Her legs wobbled as if they might give out at any moment.

Her lips trembled.

“You… What did you just do?”

The man raised a hand, as if asking for silence.

Lyla, who had never once obeyed anyone’s command, flared up. But then something deep inside her—like an invisible hand—pressed down on her fury.

What is this feeling?

While she was still reeling, the man opened the box again.

Lyla flinched, fearing the ghosts would come spilling out, worse than before. But what emerged was a single black orb. Glossy. Ominous.

“Eat it.”

He didn’t even look at her as he lifted the orb to shoulder height. At that moment, a pitch-black smoke slithered from behind his shoulder and enveloped his hand—swallowing it whole.

A terrible sound followed.

The sound of a living human’s bones being crushed and shattered.

Through the noise, Lyla could hear a faint scream. It sounded like a child’s voice.

The man kept his arm raised, his face turned away in clear disgust.

When the grotesque sounds stopped, the smoke vanished. The orb was gone, too.

“It’s done.”

The man sighed and removed his monocle. Now Lyla knew—she had to run.

As she tried to bolt, her heel caught on a stone.

“Ah!”

She fell hard, letting out a shriek. The man reached out a hand.

“Don’t touch me!”

She slapped it away. He wore gloves—probably wouldn’t have even felt it—but still, she had no desire to take his hand.

And yet, in that instant, Lyla felt it—sharp and cold, piercing her chest: guilt.

Why? She stood, dazed. Why do I feel guilty toward him?

The man said,

“I was only trying to help you up.”

Lyla glared.

“What the hell did you do? Are you some consecrated priest or something? Someone who can banish spirits? Or a magician? That orb—you fed those kids to someone, didn’t you? Some kind of trick?”

He chuckled.

“You’re full of questions. Curious like your mother, perhaps?”

“My mother wasn’t the curious type.”

“Impossible. All witches are obsessed with discovery. They spend their lives studying nature, magic, strange things… That’s what witches are.”

Lyla’s expression darkened.

This man wasn’t from the village. And yet, he knew her bloodline. He knew she could see things.

“You… Who are you really? Did you come here on purpose? Because I’m a witch’s daughter? Because I… see things I shouldn’t?”

He stayed silent—but this time, didn’t scoff. He just looked at her, as if lost in thought.

Then he said,

“If you give me a piece of bread, I’ll tell you. I’m starving—on the verge of collapse.”