Chap 4: Dying with Open Eyes

After 49 days since Minh's passing, that strange ash vanished. It disappeared without a trace, as if it had never covered the air and rooftops of the old neighborhood.

Minh's parents had begun to find solace. They comforted themselves with the thought that nature itself had taken their child away in the form of a heavenly fire—his fate, his blessing. They convinced themselves that Minh was fortunate to be embraced by that eternal flame. And so, they threw themselves into work, using survival as a distraction from grief.

The children who had once been Minh's friends had nearly forgotten as well. They allowed themselves to forget, to keep their young consciences from bearing guilt. They were so naive that they convinced themselves that the first time they saw the gray dust rising into the sky, carried by the stifling morning breeze, it was Minh waving goodbye to them—his final farewell. They never considered that it might have been a warning, a call from the other side.

After 49 days of being trapped in the silence and isolation of mourning, the neighborhood began to stir once more. Life returned with energy—only to plummet into terror again when someone discovered Bảo's lifeless body at the very place where Minh had been left behind.

That morning, the group of children gathered as usual by the lakeside for exercise. Their routine had been briefly interrupted by the grief that had haunted the old neighborhood, but now, it was as lively as ever.

Despite it being summer, an eerie fog blanketed the streets. And somehow, as if guided by unseen forces, their steps carried them to the ruins of the old restroom where Minh had perished.

They were too absorbed in their chatter, laughing and wondering about Bảo's unusual absence that morning, when suddenly, they realized where they were standing.

Their hearts nearly stopped when they saw a shadowy figure sitting against a wall—one of the few blackened, crumbling walls left standing after the fire. The ground, which they thought had long been cleansed of its haunting memories, was covered once again with that cursed gray ash.

"Minh?"

Ngọc's sudden scream sent shivers through them all, making their knees weak.

No one dared stop Ngọc as she rushed forward, and so they followed hesitantly, unsure of what they would find.

But Minh wasn't there.

Instead, Ngọc found Bảo's lifeless body, cold and stiff, covered in that eerie gray ash. His eyes were frozen open, pupils clouded with a misty, grayish hue—a reflection of a horror too great to describe. His mother, sobbing, desperately tried to close his eyes, but no matter how many times she tried, Bảo refused to stop staring into the world of the living.

The elderly women in the neighborhood, experienced in matters of the supernatural, whispered instructions into his grieving mother's ear. Following their advice, she spoke to Bảo in hushed, tearful tones. She pleaded with him over and over again.

And only then did his eyes finally close.

On the day of Bảo's funeral, his friends lined up alongside the adults, incense sticks in hand, ready to say their final farewell. They noticed that the grown-ups, one by one, glanced into the coffin through the glass panel before moving on. Curious, the children imitated them.

When Hoa looked inside, she let out a bloodcurdling scream, shattering the solemn atmosphere.

The adults turned, scowling at her lack of respect. Some even stepped forward to scold her.

"E-his eyes… his eyes!" Hoa stammered, barely able to form the words.

Inside the coffin, Bảo's eyes had opened again, staring blankly into the void.

From the corners of his lifeless eyes, two crimson tears trickled down—silent, chilling warnings to all the children who had once dared to play that cursed game.