DISAPPEARING INTO THE UNKNOWN

Yuki's pov 

Joe’s workhouse looked like the kind of place people went into and never came out. It was tucked between two abandoned buildings, the flickering neon sign above the entrance barely hanging on to life. Stepping inside, I was hit with the overwhelming stench of gasoline, metal, and something else—something rancid.

The walls were covered with oddities: old weapons, half-dissected animals pinned to wooden boards, and rusted tools that looked like they had been used for something far worse than construction. A human skull sat on one of the shelves, staring at me like it knew I didn’t belong here.

“Joe?” I called, voice tight.

A heavy thud came from behind the counter, and then Joe emerged—towering, broad-shouldered, and built like a tank. His face was partially shadowed, but I could see the deep scars running down the side of his neck. He looked like he belonged in a crime documentary, the kind where they interviewed ex-convicts behind blurred screens.

I put on my best smile. “Joe, my man! Long time no see.”

Joe’s beady eyes narrowed. “You.”

I took a step back, already sensing the hostility. “Come on, you can’t still be mad about that.”

Joe crossed his arms, his thick brows pulling together. “You break Joe’s hard work.”

“It was an accident!” I threw my hands up. “I swear, I didn’t mean to knock over all your—” I hesitated. I needed to make it sound better. “—all your, uh, beautifully arranged, highly valuable counterfeit passports.”

Joe grunted. “Why pretty boy wear wig and lip tender?”

I rolled my eyes ignoring his comment 

“Listen, man, I respect your work, okay? You’re an artist, a genius. I would never intentionally destroy your masterpiece.”

Joe’s scowl deepened. “Joe no forget.what you did.”

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Look, I’m here for a simple favor. Just a tiny one.” I pressed my fingers together for emphasis. “I need an ID.”

Joe’s expression didn’t change.

“A really, really good one,I texted you the details” I added quickly.

He walked over to a cluttered desk and rummaged through a drawer before slamming a blank ID card onto the table. “Picture.”

I immediately pulled out my phone, snapped a quick shot of myself, and handed it to him.

Joe stared at it, then at me. “You look ugly with wig.”

I clenched my jaw. “I’m going through a stressful time.”

He grumbled something in Russian before inserting the card into a machine. It beeped, whirred, and a few minutes later, he held up a brand-new ID. “Here.”

I grabbed it, eyes widening in admiration. “Wow, Joe, you really are a genius.”

“Money.”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the only cash I had left—a five-dollar bill. I handed it over with the biggest smile I could manage.

Joe stared at it.

Then he tore it in half.

“Money.” His deep voice rumbled with irritation.

I groaned, digging deeper and pulling out a crumpled ten-dollar bill. “That’s all I have, Joe. I swear, I’ll make it up to you someday.”

Joe snatched it, muttering something under his breath, and waved me off.

Taking that as my cue to leave, I rushed out of the workhouse, eager to put some distance between myself and the unsettling place. The air outside felt lighter, but I didn’t waste time breathing it in. I had my ID. Now, all I had to do was get home, relax, and prepare for Monday.

Or so I thought.

The moment I stepped into the house, something felt off. The air was too still. Too quiet.

I glanced at the worn-out armchair in the living room, expecting to see my grandfather there, half-asleep with the TV playing some old black-and-white movie in the background.

But the chair was empty.

A weird feeling crept up my spine.

“Suzu?” I called out.

A soft bark came from the corner of the room. My three-legged puppy was curled up near the couch, ears pressed flat against his head, tail tucked between his legs. His entire posture screamed unease.

“Hey, buddy,” I murmured, crouching down to pet him. “Where’s Grandpa?”

Suzu whined but didn’t move.

I stood abruptly, scanning the room. “Grandpa?” I called louder this time. “You home?”

Silence.

My stomach twisted.

I checked the kitchen. Nothing. The hallway. Empty. His bedroom. The bed was neatly made, untouched.

He wasn’t here.

I grabbed my phone, fingers fumbling as I called Lily.

She picked up on the third ring. “What’s up?”

“Did you take Grandpa to the hospital today?” I asked, my voice tight.

“What? No, I haven’t seen him all day. I just called to check in this morning. Why?”

“He’s not here.”

Silence.

Then, “What do you mean he’s not there?”

“I mean exactly that, Lily. He’s not home. He’s not in his chair, not in bed, nowhere. And Suzu’s acting weird.”

Lily exhaled sharply. “Okay, don’t panic—”

“I’m already panicking.”

“Alright, but don’t do it loudly,” she snapped. “Are you sure he didn’t just step out for something?”

I swallowed hard. My grandfather barely left the house without telling me, and even then, he moved slow. He wasn’t the type to just disappear.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, pacing the room. “I have no idea where he could’ve gone.”

Lily hesitated. “Check outside. See if anyone saw him leave.”

I nodded, already heading for the door. “I’ll call you back.”

As soon as I stepped out, the cold evening air

hit me, but the chill I felt had nothing to do with the weather.

Something wasn’t right.

My grandfather was missing.