《Forgotten》


 Volume1: Disconnected/Introduction: Sorrowfull

    The tape lay on the desk in her room. She sat beside it, staring, a frown etched on her face. Even so, she decided to play it using the old VHS player hidden in her closet.


    She retrieved the VHS player, connected it to her TV, then carefully slid the tape inside.


    For a little while, the TV was filled with distorted snow, its satisfying hisses and scratches the only sounds breaking the dreadful silence in the room¡ªuntil the static was drowned out and replaced by a strange symbol labeled "The Black Crow." An old-sounding robotic voice began to speak.


    "Dear citizens of Demontagnac, countless reports have detailed the appearance of an unforeseen threat in La Rose Rouge district, which we shall refer to as a shape-shifter."


    She leaned back, rolling her eyes the moment she heard the word shape-shifter.


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    "Unfortunately, as of now, we do not have enough information regarding the true identity or motives of the shape-shifter. That is why we strongly urge you to stay home, block all possible entry points, and remain heavily armed at all times."


    Her expression tightened, irritation growing like a storm creeping in from the horizon.


    "I repeat: Do not leave your home under any circumstances. Food, water, and any other necessities will be provided by the government."


    The voice paused for a moment, as if recalibrating, before continuing in a more somber, strained tone.


    "You should know: If you see or hear anyone, arm yourself, hide, and pray it never finds you. Refrain from showing any kind of reaction."


    Her frown deepened, irritation slowly melting, twisting into pure disappointment.


    "The threat utilizes psychological warfare to hunt its prey."


    The image began to fade, static slowly overtaking the screen.


    "As mentioned earlier, we strongly prohibit any interaction with the shape-shifter. However, we encourage any attempts to eliminate it yourse¡ª"


    The girl shut off the TV with a sharp, exasperated sigh, leaving only silence to roam about.

 Volume1/Chapter1: The Guardians

    The ringing phone shattered the silence in the house once again, only to be abruptly cut off and replaced by a man''s rather raspy voice.


    "Hello, Guardian''s HQ. What can I do for ya?"


    "M-Martin? It''s me, Mei."


    "Oh! Hey there, Mei. How''s it goin''? Ya done with the tape I gave ya?"


    "Well... yeah, I guess you could say that," she answered reluctantly.


    "Wait, what d''you mean, ''I guess you could say that?''" Martin asked, his raised eyebrow practically audible through the line.


    "Well... (sigh) Okay, look, Martin, I know what you''re thinking. This whole shape-shifter thing could make us more money than ever before, and we''d finally get out of poverty."


    "Yeah, exactly! What''s wrong with that? (Gasp) Wait... do you not like money??"


    "What?! No! And yes, many things are wrong with that, li¡ª"


    "Like what?? It''s literally the best opportunity ever. We find the monster, we exorcise it, and boom! Day saved," Martin declared, leaving no room for argument.


    "...I think you''re forgetting something. This thing can literally shapeshift."


    "Now that ain''t no issue. We''ve got Cassie for that."


    "Sure, but what if we get in trouble with the government? I don''t wanna ruin our relationship with them more than it already is."


    "Who cares?? We''ve always hated them anyway. Plus, they didn''t help us back then. I''m pretty sure they won''t help anyone now. We''re the only ones who can¡ªand are willing¡ªto do that," Martin said, a faint, subtle vexation painting his words.


    "This thing''s in Demontagnac, and even if it is our hometown, it''s literally on the other side of the globe."


    "I already have that handled, though... Y''might wanna prepare yourself."


    "...What do you¡ªoh god, please don''t tell me."


    "Yup, we''re goin'' through an S.H.T."


    "...You have got to be kidding me," Mei groaned, slapping her forehead in frustration.


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    "Look, pal, I know how y''feel about the S.H.T., and I get it. I honestly hate it too, but we''re really startin'' to run out of options."


    "Wait, what do you mean by that?"


    "Y''know exactly what I mean, Mei. The jobs ain''t payin'' us enough to keep this place runnin''. We''re barely able to pay our members, and it''s gettin'' to the point where some of ''em want to quit. At this point, we only have three options."


    As Martin continued, Mei''s eyes widened. She finally realized that this wasn''t just a reckless mission¡ªit was the Guardians'' last stand.


    Martin sighed. "We can either make a contract¡ªand you and I both know we wouldn''t do that even on the verge of death¡ªor we close this company once and for all. If so... then I guess it''s been a good run. Or we do this and see what happens. So, what d''ya say?"


    "..." Hesitation gripped her, fear, frustration, and unease wrapping around her like chains.


    "Mei, admit it. These excuses you''ve been givin'' me? They''re just that¡ªexcuses. Y''just don''t wanna go back there, do ya?"


    "...How is it so easy for you? To just go back there, after everything we''ve done?"


    "I... guess I just came to understand that no matter what you do, runnin'' in circles will always get ya back to point zero."


    Mei was lost in her thoughts, considering every possible alternative¡ªanything that would let her avoid this mission. But alas, nothing seemed to work.


    "...Fine then," she finally relented, surrendering to her fate.


    "Great! I knew I could count on ya. See you tomorrow at 8:00 in the morning at Rainbow Park."


    With that, Martin ended the call, leaving Mei to stare out her window.


    She watched as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, making way for the moon, welcomed by a myriad of shining stars. The view could only be described in one word: mesmerizing. It was enough to help her calm down.


    "We really hit rock bottom, huh?"


    She sighed.


    "Honestly... I wish you could see us right now. Though... you''d probably be laughing at us, wouldn''t you, Daniel?"


    As Mei enjoyed the beauty of the sunset, life continued elsewhere:


    In Demontagnac''s East Block, a man in his early twenties exited La Maison d''Histoire library, clutching a blue book with neither title nor author.


    He returned to his apartment in the North Block, located on Michelle Rose Street. The apartment was well-arranged, consisting of only two rooms:


    A bedroom, with a balcony, an average-sized bed, and a desk with a fairly old computer. On the desk sat a photo of him, a young woman, and a man who resembled him, smiling while holding an infant.


    A living room, with a comfortable-looking couch, a small TV flanked by DVDs on one side and books on the other, with a table in between.


    Once home, he changed his clothes, ate dinner, and sat at his desk. He took out the blue book and closed his eyes.


    "Please... just please tell me this is the right one," he thought as he opened it.


    Inside, instead of words, he found a DVD disc with the letter Z written in black.


    The moment he saw it, his eyes lit up.


    "YES! FINALLY!"


    Without hesitation, he took the DVD and inserted it into his PC''s tray. After gently pushing the tray back in, he powered on the computer and sifted through his files.


    He searched thoroughly, his wrinkled hands shaking. After several agonizing seconds, he found a file labeled Retribution.


    Opening it, he was greeted with an input form.


    "After five long years... I finally found it," he murmured, tears nearly spilling from his eyes.


    "At last... just hang in there, Daniel. I will drag you out of there, even if it costs me my soul."

 Volume1/Chapter2: Perpetuator

    Victim Number Seven:


    The old man gazed into the mirror as it gazed back at him. It showed nothing more than the monstrosity he had created¡ªhimself. He kept watching, motionless, for what seemed like hours before finally turning away, an air of disappointment hanging over him.


    He walked over to the large bag holding his newly bought PC. Pulling out the box, he placed it on the table with determination. It didn''t matter to him if his end goal landed him in jail for the rest of his life; that was inconsequential.


    After hours of grueling work, he found what he was looking for: a hidden file containing a forbidden video.


    As he clicked on the file, a warning flashed across the screen:


    "Warning: This video has been forbidden by the Demontagnac FBI department. Anyone who is not a government official, part of the police department, or does not have official permission can and will be severely punished for watching it."


    The warning faded, replaced by a grand title that read:


    The V.E Effect.


    The Violet Eyes Effect is a rare condition found in those who possess any variation of violet-colored eyes. It is extremely rare; however, those who have it claim to perceive magical and spiritual beings better than the norm.


    The screen went black for several moments before cutting to an image of two men in a dimly lit room. One wore black button-fly jeans and a blue dress shirt, his nameplate reading Joseph. The other, a man in his early fifties, sat in front of him, dark circles underlining his irritated red eyes.


    "Could you please give me more details about your encounter with this ''entity''?" Joseph asked.


    "O-of course," the man stammered. "It was last week. I was asleep at the time, so I have no idea how it got inside. I-it wasn''t until I heard some strange music that I woke up."


    "Some ''music,'' you say?" Joseph squinted, his pen scratching the surface of his notebook.


    "Y-yes, it... it came from my computer. I-I can''t recall what it sounded like, however. When I arrived at the lounge and found my PC, the music became loud static. And at that moment, when I looked up from my PC, I saw ''it.''"


    "Are you absolutely positive that you locked all your doors and windows?"


    "Yes, officer, I did."


    "Okay, then. Do you remember what it looked like?"


    "Yes. I''m afraid I couldn''t forget it even if I wanted to."


    "Did it look like anyone you knew?"


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    "No, sir."


    "...Wait, what?"


    "In my entire life, I have never seen anything that looked remotely close to it."


    Joseph paused, looking away from the man, his expression unreadable. The tired man shifted uncomfortably.


    "O-Officer? Is something wrong?"


    "Mr. Miller," Joseph began hesitantly, "can you tell me when exactly you saw this ''monster'' for the first¡ª"


    The video glitched abruptly, fast-forwarding about 30 minutes. When it resumed, a nationwide warning filled the screen:


    Dear citizens of Demontagnac, reports from the East Block''s local police headquarters have given us an update on the shape-shifter''s true identity.


    The shape-shifter, as mentioned in previous reports, is said to be a six-meter-tall, half-man, half-black figure with tentacles emerging from its eye sockets and spikes surrounding its feet and belly.


    If you see any figure resembling this description, refrain from looking directly into its eyes or responding to any of its noises. If it comes after you, ignore it. Any interaction with the threat will result in a slow, gruesome death.


    As the warning ended, a photo of a distressed old man appeared on the screen, accompanied by a description and a vocal message:


    Victim Number 8: Jaiden Miller, the only survivor of the shape-shifter''s attacks so far. He was found in his apartment, crying with a gun pointed at his head. The victim kept repeating, "Get him out," while looking straight at his computer.


    We managed to disarm him, but when we turned the PC off, he screamed so loudly our ears nearly burst. Then he passed out. Whatever that shape-shifter is, it''s far more dangerous than any of us ever imagined, and it must be eliminated as quickly as possible.


    The voice message began playing:


    "I... I couldn''t do anything... I DIDN''T do anything! I just stood there shaking and crying my eyes out as it laughed at me gleefully.


    "I-It''s quite ironic, isn''t it? Me, who once acted so high and mighty. Me, who once thought I was the best of the best, a fearless warrior deserving of a place in the army to protect the country!... And yet... and yet I COULDN''T EVEN PROTECT MY OWN SON!... my own son..."


    "...That doesn''t matter anymore. I now know what I have to do... I have to kill it before it kills me."


    The voice cut off abruptly, and the screen displayed the title The V.E Effect again. A loud screech overlapped with the voice of a young woman:


    "Ever since ''The Great Accident'' eight years ago, the number of people with the V.E Effect has increased to more than 50% of the population, making it the majority. At the same time, suicide cases have risen by 15%, and the number keeps growing day by day."


    The video ended. The man turned off his PC, taking a notebook to jot down his discoveries.


    Satisfied, he went back to his bed and closed his eyes, finally ready for sleep.


    But after what felt like a moment, an unnerving yet oddly soft voice called to him.


    "Wake up... wake up... It''s time to wake up."


    The familiar voice jolted him awake. To his shock, the sun was already rising. Shaking off the grogginess, he brushed his teeth and washed his face. As he lifted his head, his heart stopped.


    Through the mirror, he saw a figure standing behind him. Almost transparent, it was impossible to describe, yet unmistakably there.


    "Go back to your PC, Joseph. We are waiting for you," it murmured.


    Curious despite his unease, Joseph returned to his desk. Booting up the computer, he found a new game installed: T.L.C.


    Opening it, cryptic messages filled the screen:


    Enough games. I know who you are, I know what you''re yearning for, and I know the reason behind that.


    That is why I shall gift you this offer:


    I will help you achieve your goal. In exchange, there is one door in this game that keeps me from being free and finally finding peace.


    Once you achieve your goal, I will grant you access to the game so you can open it. That is all I will ask of you.


    Please, will you accept this offer, Joseph?


    Presented with a simple yes-or-no prompt, Joseph weighed his options. After much deliberation, he decided he had far more to gain than to lose.


    Reluctantly, he clicked yes.

 Volume1/Chapter3: Exhibited

    Discussing The Ordeal:


    It was a gloomy, rain-soaked day. Heavy droplets fell endlessly from the sky, the tears of the heavens matching the solitude of the short girl sitting on a bench in the park. She was in her late teens, her only company the cold, humid air that seemed to seep into her bones.


    "What the hell is taking this guy so long?" she muttered under her breath, her irritation growing as her eyes scanned the empty surroundings. A deep scowl began to form on her face.


    Eventually, her frustration boiled over. Letting out a disgruntled sigh, she yanked her phone from her pocket, quickly scrolling through her contacts until she found the name "Martin." She jabbed at the screen aggressively to call him.


    The line rang twice before a cheerful voice answered on the other end. "Hello, Guardian''s HQ, how may I help y¡ª"


    "Martin! Where the heck are you?!" she interrupted, her voice sharp with rage.


    There was a pause. "Whoa, easy there, Mei. What are you even talking about?"


    "What am I talking about?! You told me to meet you at 8:00 A.M. in Rainbow Park! It''s been an hour, and you''re seriously asking me that?!" Mei''s voice rose in pitch, anger and confusion coloring her words.


    "Meet? Park? I... don''t recall doing any of that. I don''t even remember calling you yesterday. Are you sure this wasn''t just another one of those weird dreams or something?"


    "What?! No! Of course not! How the hell would this be a dream when you even sent me that VHS tape? I literally still have it with me!" she snapped, reaching into her bag to double-check that the tape was indeed there.


    "VHS tape?" Martin''s tone shifted, becoming uneasy. "Okay, this is getting weird. I''ve never even had one of those."


    "You''re kidding, right?" Mei''s voice dropped, a quiet anger simmering beneath her words.


    "Look, let''s just calm down and¡ª" Martin suddenly stopped mid-sentence. "Huh?"


    "What now?" Mei asked impatiently.


    "The light''s out... Wha¡ªAAAAAA¡ª!" Martin''s scream cut through the line, loud and blood-curdling. Then came the abrupt beep of the call ending.


    "Martin?! Answer me!" Mei shouted, her voice trembling with panic. She redialed his number, but each attempt failed, met with the automated message: This line is occupied.


    "Goddammit!" she yelled, nearly throwing her phone in frustration. Her hands trembled as she forced herself to take a deep breath, trying to steady herself.


    Our Home:


    The Guardian''s headquarters were steeped in darkness, the power evidently out. Only the security cameras remained operational, their faint feeds capturing glimpses of the interior through the pervasive gloom.


    Four cameras monitored the space: one in the hall and the others in the west, north, and east wings.


    The hall''s camera revealed the reception desk at the center, its surface streaked with bloodstains. The crimson trail stretched up the double-sided staircase, leading to a wide-open door at the top. Beyond the door lay nothing but impenetrable blackness.


    In the east wing, the feed showed a small corridor with three doors. Each bore a name: "Mei," "Cassandra," and "Gabriel." A portrait hung near the door labeled "Gabriel," but the darkness obscured its details.


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    The west wing''s camera displayed a living room of sorts. A couch with throw pillows sat opposite a large TV, separated by a small rectangular table. An old fridge stood in the northeast corner, and a broken microwave rested precariously on a bookshelf below the TV.


    Finally, the north wing''s camera showed little more than a faintly lit figure standing beneath a single, flickering torchlight. A doll sat ominously beside the figure, the details unclear through the grainy footage.


    Nyctophobia:


    The hall camera suddenly captured movement: a young woman entering the building. It was Mei, her expression taut with a mix of annoyance and unease.


    "Martin? Where are you? What happened?!" she called out, her voice echoing through the empty space. She repeated his name several times, but the silence was unyielding.


    Frustrated, she pulled a flashlight from her brown, multi-pocketed handbag. As she flicked it on, the piercing beam illuminated the reception desk, revealing the bloodstains more clearly. Her breath hitched, and her complexion turned pale.


    The blood trail led her gaze up the staircase toward the ominous open door. A broken phone lay abandoned on the desk beside a dormant computer.


    With shaking hands, she pointed the flashlight toward the dark doorway. Slowly, she began to ascend the stairs, her footsteps heavy with dread.


    The north wing camera captured her entering the room. The flashlight cut through the gloom, revealing a horrifying sight: a statue standing prominently in the center of the space.


    It was disturbingly familiar.


    Mei froze, her jaw dropping as she stared at the grotesque figure. Tears streamed down her cheeks as memories she''d fought to bury came rushing back, overwhelming her.


    Her legs buckled beneath her, and she collapsed to the floor, the flashlight slipping from her grasp and casting jagged shadows across the walls. The camera feed flickered, then cut to static.


    Oblivious:


    "Good morning, my dear students! It''s me, Thomas, and welcome back to Mon Petit Connaisseur!" The cheerful voice of a man filled the screen. He stood in front of a chalkboard, gesturing animatedly toward the camera.


    "Today, mes chers ¨¦tudiants, we''ll learn about one of the greatest wonders of the human body: the soul crystal!"


    "And today, we have a special guest, a professor of great renown. Please give a warm welcome to Walter Miller!"


    Seated across from him was a tall man in a dark suit. A nameplate pinned to his chest read "Walter Miller." He glared silently at the camera, his expression cold and unwelcoming.


    "W-well, anyway..." Thomas continued nervously.


    (Why didn''t he say anything?) he thought.


    "A soul is what makes a living being, well... alive. But did you know that¡ª"


    Walter abruptly interrupted. "How long?"


    "Huh? I-uh¡ªwhat do you mean?"


    "How long has it been, Thomas? Three years? Five?"


    "W-what are you talking about? (Whisper) Hey, this isn''t in the script!"


    Walter''s eyes narrowed. "What script? Who were you even talking to?"


    "Who wa¡ªthe audience, of course! Who else?!"


    "What audience?"


    Thomas glanced nervously toward the camera. "What are you talking about? The audience is right there!"


    Walter sighed as he stepped closer, his shadow stretching unnaturally long.


    "Take off your glasses, Thomas. They''re worsening your eyesight. Take them off, then look at me," he said as he bowed down.


    Thomas hesitated, then slowly removed his glasses. As he looked up, his face turned ashen as he saw:


    Nothing. No matter where he looked, Thomas did not see anything besides the radio in front of him.


    "Now, now, no need to be so surprised. It was always like this, you know," said the radio.


    "He''s right, Thomas," declared a small doll in a blue dress sitting beside Thomas''s chair. "Nothing changed. You just were never the observant type," it continued, chuckling.


    "Wh-who are you?! What is this?!"


    "Come on, Thomas. I never befriended an idiot. You already know the answer to those questions!"


    Thomas gasped in surprise as a faint shadow appeared to replace his.


    "G-get away from me!" His breath grew heavier by the second as he tried to move, to no avail.


    "Holy crap, no need to be so dramatic," it said.


    "We don''t want to hurt you... (murmur) Well, I do, but that''ll have to wait," the shadow continued.


    "He is right, Thomas. We do not mean any harm. However, she does," the doll confirmed.


    "W-who''s she?" he asked, his heart still beating faster than ever.


    "We don''t have time to explain. She will find us beforehand. All we ask is that you stay still and listen to what follows. And please, if you value your soul, don''t talk when the doll starts," the radio answered.


    "What the heck do y¡ª"


    "I said SHUT UP!"


    "..."


    The doll began:


    "To conquer fear, step forth and see,


    The realm of shadows welcomes thee.


    Yet heed this truth, for once it is spoken,


    Peace shall fade, and bonds be broken."


    The moment the doll finished, the three entities disappeared, leaving no trace. Only two things remained in the void of that unsettling place: Thomas and a strange, faintly glowing violet door.