DAYS BEFORE NEW YEARS : 12

“Acute Stress Disorder or Adjustment Disorder. Either of the two, could be the reason behind his constant breakdowns," the doctor’s voice remained calm, measured. "If left untreated, it can develop into chronic anxiety, depression, or post-traumatic stress disorder. You wouldn’t want that-”

“Oh, give me a break,” my dad scoffed, crossing his arms. “Back in my day, we didn’t slap a label on every little struggle. People toughened up.”

"But, sir. With all due respect, studies show that untreated trauma can alter the amygdala, increasing stress responses-"

“No! We barely heard of these words. Let alone depression! YOU! NEW GENERATION ARE SPOILED! YOU HEAR, ME?!”

An argument erupted in the background, voices rising, bouncing off the walls like a tennis match with no end. I pretended to be in a deep slumber, but I could feel their words slither into my ears like venom, burning, infecting.

My eyes closed away the small gap and darkness surrounded me.

My breathing steady.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

I wondered if they’d ever see it my way. That my thoughts weren’t some inconvenience they could brush aside like crumbs off a table.

Maybe, just maybe, they’d stop pretending that the past didn’t exist.

That what happened wasn’t real.

Maybe, just maybe, they’d stop thinking that everything was just “in the head.”

I imagined myself back in 2019, when I was getting sunbathed at Coby’s parent’s vacation house. It was a blissful day. The sky, a crisp blue with streaks of white clouds, stretched endlessly above me.

No arguments.

No blood.

No swearing.

No hitting.

Just water.

Water all around me. Dancing and filling up my ears.

Tranquillity all around me.

Me in my trunks on a float.

It's that fantastic.

It had been fantastic.

Yeah… If only Coby’s corpse didn’t float along with me, then it would have been perfect.

His green eyes staring back into mine.

I didn't hear it blink at all.

Wide, empty.

No water splash that I anticipated it behind my closed eyes.

I could smell it before I felt it.

The rot.

It covered the chlorine scent of the pool, clung to my skin, seeped into my lungs, made my stomach twist in knots.

My float started to change direction. A slow, steady spin at first, like the water itself was deciding my fate.

It went right.

Right.

RIGHT.

IT STARTED TO SPIN-

FASTER!

As if unseen hands had gripped the edges, forcing me to face him.

FASTER!

Making me open my eyes.

FASTER!

Coby's corpse started to drift along with me.

FASTER!

The sun glared down, too bright, too harsh. It illuminated every bloated detail of his face—skin stretched too tight over his bones, lips cracked and peeling, green eyes milky with death but still locked onto mine.

FASTER!

Water lapped at my ears, whispering secrets in a language I couldn’t understand. My breath hitched. The sky twisted above me, but all I could see were his eyes.

FASTER!

His mouth opened.

FASTER!

A rush of black, muddy soil poured out.

FASTER!

The stench of earth, decay—it filled my mouth, my throat.

FASTER!

It tasted familiar.

FASTER!

He lunged on top of me.

FASTER!

My float slipped from below,

And then—

I sank.

FASTER!

Dragging Coby to his second death in his afterlife.

FASTER!

I felt the water swallow me whole. It bashed into my nostrils, slithered down my throat, cold and merciless. My arms flailed, desperate to find something—anything—to grasp onto. But there was nothing. Just darkness, thick and infinite. My lungs burned. My heartbeat pounded against my ribcage like a war drum.

I looked up.

Coby hovered above me. His green eyes glowed through the water like eerie headlights. His mouth opened again, wider this time, impossibly wide, stretching to his ears. The black soil spilled out in torrents, wrapping around me, dragging me down further.

I screamed.

Bubbles escaped my lips, rising to the surface, fading into nothing.

He reached for me, fingers outstretched, blackened and broken.

They wrapped around my wrist, his grip like iron, his nails digging into my flesh, pulling me into the abyss.

I kicked. I thrashed. I fought.

But it was useless.

The water tightened around me, cradling me in its suffocating embrace.

Coby’s grip never loosened up.

His face remained the same—emotionless, yet accusing.

You're gonna suffer.

His voice echoed in my mind, though his lips never moved.

The end is near.

I shook my head.

No.

No, I didn’t want us to end like this.

Or even end up like this.

I wanted to tell him.

I wanted to scream it, to make him understand.

But no words came out.

Just silence. Just water. Just darkness.

Coby’s fingers tightened. My vision blurred. My lungs screamed for air. My body gave up. I was drowning. And then—

*GASP*

My body jerked upward.

Air.

Sweet, wonderful air filled my lungs.

Oh! how I missed it so much.

I coughed, choking, gasping, clawing at my throat as if to make sure it was still there.

My chest heaved.

My limbs trembled.

My heart pounded so hard that I mistook it as my alarm clock.

I wasn’t in the water anymore.

I was back in my bed.

The hospital.

The ceiling fan whirred above me.

The dim light flickered.

My sheets were drenched in sweat.

My throat was raw, my skin cold and clammy.

My hands clutched the edges of my blanket so tightly that my knuckles had turned white.

I could still feel the weight of Coby’s grip on my wrist.

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. My heart still hammered against my ribs, the memory of drowning still fresh, still tangible, as if I had truly been in that water.

As if I had truly felt his hands dragging me down.

The argument outside continued. The same voices. The same accusations. The same ignorance.

I wanted to scream at them. To tell them that this wasn’t just in my head. That it wasn’t some overblown reaction, some excuse for laziness, some new-generation weakness.

That it was real.

That Coby was real.

Just because we have found a body, doesn't mean its his.

But they wouldn’t listen.

They never did.

I closed my eyes, willing my breathing to steady, forcing my mind to separate reality from the nightmares that refused to let me go.

But as I drifted back into restless sleep, I couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere, deep in the water, Coby was still waiting.

And next time, he wouldn’t let me wake up without reminding me of the end after new year's.

Just like how he constantly reminded me and Thalia that we were doomed from the start to win in his treasure hunt.

Why?

Because even if the hunt was over, the hunter never stopped his hunting spree.

Proof?

Body parts.

Body parts we found in his previous treasure hunt.

That's one of the many things, Thalia and I hate about Coby-

BUZZ!

Argghhh….

On the table beside me, my belongings were neatly stacked alongside my prescribed vitamin pills and tablets. Just looking at them made my stomach churn.....

My phone’s screen had lit up.

Never mind, I will check that out later.

As I was saying, Coby’s body was never found. Not after that night. Not after the treasure hunt that should’ve ended in a stupid prize but left us with something far worse.

Jason Ferris’s body parts, scattered like a sick offering.

A message? Or a warning?

We will never know, but we do know something that's far worse than that.

Who was Jason Ferris?

Sammie's beloved guitar teacher.

And,

Sammie's childhood moles-

BUZZ!

My eyes snapped open at that notification. 

You know what?

I better check that out. 

It could be Sammie, who knows?

I pinched the bridge of the nose before pulling myself up against the bed frame. After settling in, I carefully adjusted my position to reach for the phone. Either way, the sting from the IV drip still lingered, and a deep red stain spread through the white bandage.

I unlocked my phone with ease, and opened my messages from an unknown number.

thump!

A message.

thump! thump!

Unknown number.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

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UNKNOWN

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Coby said you're not as good as Samuel at solving puzzles. Try to give your best, okay? [9:36 PM]

🤩😤👍😊[9:38 PM]

who is this [9:40 PM]

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My stomach clenched.

My fingers trembled as I typed back.

No reply.

It may be an unknown number, but I have a damn idea on whom this person is.

Remember Coby didn’t go to school for a month?

Well, along the way, Thalia and I were able to uncover what he was doing during that month.

Socialising on the net.

Indeed, he was joining a new friend circle while in the real-time, his own friend group were asking… no…. begging the teachers for updates on him.

What were his new friends like?

Unemployed, ruthless, cunning gamer type.

The type that didn’t just play games—they hunted. Tortured. Killed.

His new friends had their eyes on me the entirety of the previous treasure hunt.

Every move we made.

Or make.

Including our family members, relatives, you name it.

They have everything on us.

And now, one of them is currently in the same building as me.

Yup.

His brand-new pal is here to pay tribute to his online friend’s best mate.

I wonder how that will end up.