CHAPTER 2: STILL DARK

The man staggered across the rooftop.

Each step felt heavier than the last. His body trembled, veins darkened and crawling beneath his skin like something alive. One of his eyes had already turne clouded, half-blind, consumed by shadow.

“You failed.”

A woman’s voice cut through the silence.

Cold. Calm. Unforgiving.

The man flinched.

He turned too quickly, his weakened legs giving out beneath him. He collapsed onto the concrete with a dull thud, breathing uneven, panic rising in his chest.

“He got help…” he stammered. “There’s another Gelana… My devil…it’s basic, weak! They already know its weakness. What should I do?”

His voice cracked, desperation spilling through every word.

The woman said nothing at first.

She walked slowly around him, her footsteps soft against the rooftop. Her gaze drifted upward, admiring the pale moon as if nothing else mattered.

Then, she stopped.

Her eyes returned to him.

“Failure is failure,” she said flatly. “You should be grateful for what you still have.”

A pause.

“Do you really think he would let you live after this?”

The man froze.

Fear tightened around his throat.

“I… I did my best…” he whispered, almost choking on his own words. “Please… give me another chance. I’ll finish the job. I swear.”

The woman tilted her head slightly.

“Sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t come here to check if you’re okay.”

Her eyes darkened.

Completely.

Something unseen tightened around the man’s neck. His body jerked as an invisible force lifted the necklace from his chest. It hovered in the air for a brief second

and shattered.

Crack.

The sound echoed.

From the broken fragments, a presence emerged.

A chilling, suffocating aura filled the rooftop.

Long hair. Pale skin. A twisted smile.

The Kuntilanak revealed itself.

Before the man could even scream

it attacked.

———

Three days had passed since the night Khairil and Ayish faced the Kuntilanak, but the memory lingered like a notification you couldn’t clear.

Inside a cozy café, the world felt normal. Soft chatter filled the air, mixed with the hiss of coffee machines and the faint clinking of cups and spoons. And in the middle of it all Khairil. He sat like he owned the place, leaning back in his chair, one arm resting lazily on the table while the other held a glass of iced coffee. The ice shifted with a soft clink every time he tilted it. His sleeveless hoodie exposed his muscular arms, effortlessly catching attention even if he didn’t care. Or maybe he did.

The bell above the door rang, and Ayish stumbled in. Literally. He pushed the glass door a bit too hard, stepped in too fast, and nearly bumped into a chair before catching himself. Khairil watched the entire thing.

“…Wow,” he muttered. “That entrance alone tells me your life is not going well.”

Ayish ignored him, breathing slightly heavier than normal. He walked over and dropped into the seat across from Khairil like his body had just given up. Up close, it was worse. Messy hair, wrinkled clothes, and dark circles under his eyes like permanent shadows.

Khairil squinted. “Did you sleep at all?”

Ayish shook his head slowly. “Not really.”

“Study?”

“No.”

“Gaming?”

“No.”

Khairil paused. “…Girlfriend problem?”

Ayish looked at him, deadpan. “I’m being teleported randomly when I close my eyes.”

A beat passed. Khairil took a sip of his drink.

“Ah,” he nodded. “That makes more sense.”

Ayish blinked. “…That’s your reaction?”

“What? You want me to scream?” Khairil replied. “We already fought a flying ghost lady. My standards have changed.”

Ayish leaned forward, lowering his voice. “I’m serious. Every time I close my eyes, I just move. Like… poof. Different spot. Nearby. No control.”

Khairil chuckled under his breath.

Ayish frowned. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because,” Khairil said, setting his drink down, “you look like you’ve been bullied by your own ability.”

“…It’s not funny.”

“It kind of is.”

Ayish sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I can’t even sleep properly. I close my eyes I wake up somewhere else. Yesterday I ended up in my kitchen. The day before? Outside my house.”

Khairil raised an eyebrow. “At least your power is convenient. Mine just punches things.”

“That’s not helping.”

Ayish raised his hand toward a passing waiter. “One iced coffee,” he said, then after a pause, “…make it strong.”

Khairil nodded approvingly. “Good. You need it.”

A short silence settled between them, more comfortable this time. Ayish leaned back slightly, exhaling.

“Okay… wait,” he said. “How did you even know where I was? And how did you get my number?”

Khairil didn’t hesitate. “I know a guy.”

“What kind of guy?”

“A guy who’s very good at stalking people.”

Ayish stared at him. “…That’s illegal.”

“Probably.”

“…That’s creepy.”

“Definitely.”

Ayish shook his head slowly. “I regret coming here already.”

Khairil smirked. “But you still came.”

“…Yeah.” Because he didn’t have a better option.

Khairil picked up his drink again. “Anyway,” he said casually, “I got something.”

Ayish groaned softly. “Please don’t say another ghost.”

“Close,” Khairil replied. “Crocodile.”

Ayish blinked. “…What?”

“There’s been attacks at a village near Sungai Sarawak,” Khairil continued. “People injured. Some dead.”

Ayish frowned. “Okay… but crocodiles exist. That’s normal.”

Khairil didn’t respond immediately. He just stared at Ayish.

Then

Flick.

“Hey!” Ayish grabbed his forehead. “What is wrong with you?!”

“Focus,” Khairil said calmly.

Ayish muttered under his breath, rubbing the now-red spot.

“This isn’t a normal crocodile,” Khairil continued. “It’s big. White. Hunts at night. Targets people.”

Ayish’s expression shifted, the casual mood fading slightly. “…That’s not normal,” he admitted.

“Exactly.”

Ayish leaned forward, thinking. “…Wait,” he said slowly. “I think I read something like that.”

Khairil nodded once. “Good. That’s why you’re useful.”

Ayish looked up. “So what are you going to do?”

Khairil met his eyes. “You’re coming with me.”

“…Excuse me?”

“Don’t make me repeat it.”

“Why me? You handled the last one alone, right?”

Khairil exhaled, clearly done with the questions. “It’s hard to fight this thing while putting the pieces together,” he said. “That’s where you come in.”

Ayish crossed his arms. “You just want free help.”

“I want useful help.”

“That sounds worse.”

Khairil leaned forward slightly, his tone dropping just a bit. “And if you ask one more question,” he added, “I swear you’re going to be my personal punching bag.”

Ayish froze. “…You know what, that’s fair. I’ve asked a lot.”

Khairil leaned back again, completely relaxed.

Ayish looked down at his hands. Honestly… he wasn’t agreeing because he was scared. Well—maybe a little. But mostly? Khairil was the only person who understood what was happening to him. The only one who didn’t think he was crazy. And maybe… the only way for him to understand this power was to follow him.

Ayish exhaled slowly. “…Fine. I’ll go.”

Khairil’s lips curved into a small, satisfied smirk. “Good choice.”

Right then, Ayish’s drink arrived. He grabbed it immediately and took a long sip.

Then winced.

“…Why is this so strong?”

Khairil didn’t even look at him and hope Ayish can be useful.

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