Red Murderer
Chapter 2 – Artifact
Einar left the taxi without taking the change and rushed up the stairs until he finally reached the floor where John lived.
He slowed his pace, catching his breath as he walked past the other doors on the same floor.
"No. 16… No. 18… No. 19…"
At last, he stood in front of flat number 22.
"JOHN!" Einar shouted, worry and panic rising in his voice.
When there was no response, he banged on the door with his fist, knocking as if a catastrophe would occur if no one opened it.
Only then did he realize—the door was already open.
He swallowed hard and moved forward slowly. Opening the door and peeking inside, he crept in cautiously, as if he hadn't been shouting and pounding on it just moments ago.
Inside, he saw a figure.
It was around 174 centimeters tall, skinny, but strangely blurry—like something Einar was never meant to see. Just looking at it made his head buzz.
"Who… are you?" Einar asked. His eyelids betrayed him, growing heavy as the buzzing in his head intensified, becoming almost impossible to resist.
At last, he lost the battle and closed his eyes. They remained shut for nearly four seconds. When he opened them again, slightly refreshed, he looked directly at the blurry figure.
It looked like John.
Then Einar realized the blurry John was looking back at him. Its eyes—or rather, the vague dots where eyes should have been—carried a pitiful expression. Then it smiled, or at least Einar believed it did, and it spoke.
The language the blurry John used was unfamiliar—nothing Einar recognized, nor anything that resembled any language on Earth.
"Wha… what are you saying? John, is that… are you alri—"
The blurry John began to shine like a distant star, the brightness increasing with each passing second. It didn't even let Einar finish his sentence.
Einar covered his eyes with his arms and ducked, bracing himself as if an explosion were about to happen.
But nothing did.
The painful light dimmed, and the buzzing in Einar's head and ears vanished as if it had never existed.
He slowly straightened and opened his eyes, searching for John.
He was gone.
"What just happened?" Einar thought. Confusion gripped him, quickly giving way to panic.
He looked around again, but John was nowhere to be found. With trembling hands, Einar pulled out his phone.
He was about to dial 999 when he hesitated. Instead, he decided to call Madam L and tell her about the strange, unsettling event.
His hands shook as he tried to dial. His fingers refused to cooperate with his thoughts. He was scared—shocked and terrified—but he managed to call Madam L.
"Hello, thank you for calling Healthy Liquor. Are you calling for a party reservation or a special request?" Madam L said.
"Hello, Madam L. Something really strange is happening. I went to John's house like you asked, but he was blurry, then he glowed and—"
Before Einar could finish, Madam L interrupted him.
"Kid, I think you've called the wrong number. I don't know how you know my nickname, but I've never met anyone named John—let alone asked a stranger to go to his house."
Einar froze. It felt as though the world itself was playing a cruel prank on him.
Before he could say anything else, Madam L hung up and returned to her work.
Einar stood there, mouth open, drowning in his emotions. Before he could react, a faint light pulled his attention away.
From the spot where the blurry, shining John had stood moments before, something began to appear—as if it were coming into existence for the first time.
It was a red scarf, covered in mysterious symbols woven into its fabric. The scarf floated slightly above the ground, radiating a dark, unsettling presence.
At that moment, Einar's head began to buzz again. He couldn't take his eyes off the scarf.
For a brief moment, the confusion and anger over John's disappearance faded away. Only one instinct remained.
To pick up the scarf.
To wear it.
And never take it off.