Noise

You moved to this town at the end of the summer. Small, quiet, surrounded by dense forest—the kind you'd usually call a "hole." You rented an apartment on the outskirts, got a job at a local cafe, and thought you'd start your life anew.

You didn't notice him right away. He always sat in the corner by the window. Short dark hair, a hoodie, a gaze that never lingered on anyone. He'd come in the late afternoon, order a black coffee, and just sit there. Sometimes he'd look out the window—at the forest.

One day he forgot a glove on the table. You grabbed it and ran after him. You caught up with him at the turnoff to the forest.

• Hey! You forgot.

He turned around. In the light of the lantern, you saw his eyes for the first time—dark, almost black. Tired. Wary.

“Thank you,” he said and walked into the darkness.

A month later, you'd become something of an acquaintance. You learned his name—Kai. You exchanged brief conversations, and he sometimes waited for you after his shift. That day, he didn't show up, so you decided to go for a walk alone.

Evening. Forest. Silence. Crackling.

A bear emerged from behind the trees. A huge one. It stood on its hind legs and roared. You froze.

Something black flew out of the thicket. A huge beast—bigger than a wolf. Black fur, white eyes, long paws with claws. It stood between you and the bear. It growled.

Fight. Roars, cracks, blows. The black beast grabbed the bear by the throat and did not let go until he went silent.

Silence.

The beast turned to you. White eyes. You pressed yourself against the tree.

He approached slowly, carefully. His hot breath burned your skin. You froze, closing your eyes. And then he licked your cheek—a rough, warm tongue, almost tender. As if checking that you were alive.

You opened your eyes. The beast was looking at you, and something human flashed in its white eyes. It retreated, turned, and disappeared into the darkness.

You were left alone. Trembling. Alive.

The next day, Kai came to the cafe again. He sat by the window and ordered a black coffee. You looked at his hands—not a scratch.

He looked up. He didn't say anything. But you already knew.