The cold night

The cold wind brushed against my skin, sending shivers down my spine as I walked through the empty street. The alley was dark, with only the pale glow of the full moon lighting my way. The town had already fallen asleep, leaving the streets silent—too silent.

Then I heard it.

A woman crying.

My footsteps stopped.

“Please… don’t kill me,” a trembling voice begged between sobs. “I have children waiting for me at home. They’re still young… Please, don’t do this.”

Fear tightened in my chest. I slowly stepped closer, my hands shaking.

A woman was lying on the ground, covered in blood. Her breathing was weak and uneven, as if every second was her last. Tears streamed down her face while she desperately tried to stay alive.

Then her eyes met mine.

“P-Please… help me…”

Before I could move, another figure turned toward my direction.

A man dressed in black.

Even in the darkness, I could feel the rage in his eyes.

For a second, neither of us moved.

Then he started running toward me.

My body reacted before my mind could. I ran as fast as I could, my heartbeat pounding violently in my ears. My legs felt numb, but fear pushed me forward. I hurried into a field near the road and hid behind the tall grass, covering my mouth to stop myself from breathing too loudly.

The footsteps grew closer.

Slow.

Heavy.

He was looking for me.

“I know you’re here,” the man said coldly. “And if you tell the police what you saw tonight… the people around you will pay for it.”

I bit my lip to keep from crying.

The footsteps stopped for a moment, making my heart nearly stop with them.

Then, in the distance, flashing patrol lights appeared near the road.

The man clicked his tongue in annoyance before walking away into the darkness.

I stayed hidden for several minutes, too terrified to move.

When I was sure he was gone, I ran home without looking back. My hands trembled as I locked the front door behind me. I couldn’t breathe properly. My chest felt tight, and tears streamed silently down my face as I locked myself inside my room.

Then suddenly—

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Someone was knocking loudly on my door.

I froze.

The knocking became harder. Louder.

My body refused to move.

It felt like the walls were closing in on me.

“Heiwa!”

I opened my eyes.

My entire body was drenched in sweat as I gasped for air. The morning light peeked through my curtains while my mother sat beside my bed, her face filled with worry.

“Another nightmare?” she asked softly, handing me a glass of water. “You were crying again.”

I couldn’t answer immediately. My hands were still shaking as I took the glass from her.

My mother stayed beside me until she eventually fell asleep on the chair near my bed.

But I remained awake.

It had been two years since that night.

Two years since the murder.

Yet the memory still haunted me as if it had happened yesterday. Every scream, every footstep, every word he said remained carved into my mind.

Sometimes, I still feel like someone is watching me.

Like the killer never really disappeared.

After the incident, my mother decided we had to leave our hometown for my safety. The police investigated for months, but the case eventually went cold. There were no security cameras in the area, no evidence left behind, and I was the only witness they had.

In the end, the investigation slowly faded away.

But for me, it never ended.

I still remember the woman’s face clearly.

The fear in her eyes.

The pain.

And the way she begged to live for her children.

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