TMBIPYMEN Chapter 1

The earliest memory Layla Chrysrad held was the acrid smell that wafted from her cradle.

Lying in that cradle was, of course, Laila herself as a newborn. She had not yet seen the light of the world for even a week, and breathing by her own strength alone was terribly arduous. The unknowable smells and the unpredictable air touching her skin were also unbearable.

Her mother lifted Laila, who was wrapped in a coarse—probably not very good quality linen—swaddling cloth. As her face drew close, she could smell the bitter scent coming from her. She was exhausted, and struggled to breathe just as much as Laila.

'You have different eyes than mine.'

Her mother spoke to Layla.

'Do not look at them. Do not listen, and do not wave your hand to them. Let them wail as they pass you by. My daughter. You are Layla. And like my mother, and her mother, and all the witches before them, you also bear the name Chrysrad.'

Then she laid Layla back in the cradle and sat in the creaking chair, releasing a long sigh. She had given birth to Layla there, and she would be sitting in that same spot at the moment of her death.

She sometimes cried and groaned while gazing at Layla in the cradle.

For a while, Laila thought it was a dream, but from some point on, she knew it wasn't. It was Laila's memory, her first meeting with her mother. A small yet complete world.

Daughter of a witch, Layla Chrysrad. That was the name by which she was called.

The village of Ridgecarse was located at the northernmost edge of the Kingdom of Sierrow. Most people here made their living raising sheep or goats, and during autumn or winter, they worked in logging. Beneath the Rogas Mountains, where the entire range turned ashen gray when the weather clouded or temperatures dropped—from the valleys to the peaks—people lived simple lives.

But even in the plain and simple village of Ridgecarse, Layla Chrysrad's life was the most monotonous and unremarkable. The house she lived in stood alone at the entrance to the Rogas Mountains, so old that no one knew when it had been built. From a distance, it looked like a dilapidated structure on the verge of collapse, and even Layla herself sometimes wondered how it even managed to stand.

But whatever the reason, it was undeniably fortunate. For Layla, who could not easily go down to the village even when she needed something, a roof that stood firm against rain, wind, and storms was—with a bit of exaggeration—something like a blessing.

"Hah, blessing, what a joke."

Layla muttered self-deprecatingly as she looked up at the worn-down roof shingles, a basket tucked under her arm.

Moreover, children living in Ridgecarse village grew up hearing the refrain 'don't go near the entrance of the Rogas Mountains' from the moment they could walk and run. When children disobeyed and demanded to know 'why can't we go there,' their parents answered like this instead of striking their bottoms with a tree branch:

'A witch lives there. If you get too close, she'll kill you without anyone knowing and toss you in her cauldron. Otherwise, she'll pluck out your pretty eyes and shove sharp stones in their place.'

Their words were half truth, half lies. Layla was both the daughter of a witch and a witch herself. But she had no desire to boil children in cauldrons or gouge out their eyes, nor did she intend to.

Still, since she enjoy the peace and quiet, so she felt no need to correct the rumors. Throughout it all, Layla's mundane and humble life continued in a generally satisfactory and comfortable manner.

Until recently, when a problem arose around her.

'There are more again... Two more than yesterday.'

Layla muttered to herself as she climbed the mountain intending to pick mushrooms. Her head was eerily stiff for someone climbing a steep mountain path, and her gaze was fixed stubbornly straight ahead as if tied with thread and tautly pulled.

'Don't look. Not at that... Don't look.'

Layla's breathing grew slightly ragged. The moment she grabbed a protruding branch and pulled her body upward, children huddled together on a nearby rock all turned their heads in unison, following her movement.

Regardless of gender, the children all wore ordinary clothes, and their ages were varied too—from young children who appeared to be about three or four years old to rascals around twelve.

But there is one thing...

Where their eyes should have been, there was nothing. How should it be described? It was cleanly empty, as if scooped out with a spoon. Yes, cleanly.

'Ahh. Please, don't stare at me.'

Layla prayed desperately, feeling every hair on her body stand on end.

'Even if you look, you can't see anything anyway. Right? So don't stare. Please don't stare at me, please.'

Layla strained her neck desperately to avoid looking at the children. After finally finishing the steep climb, she entered the relatively flat forest entrance and— suddenly felt a chill run down her spine. She tightened her grip on the basket.

One of the eyeless boy was following behind her.

This boy was one of the few children whose name Layla knew. Eleven-year-old Tommy, the village's biggest troublemaker who always led the other children around.

After catching her breath briefly, Layla continued walking. Silently, the boy glided closer, matching Layla's pace. Crouching down under a tree pretending to examine mushrooms, Layla bit down hard on her molars as she saw him slightly closer than when she first noticed him.

'Damn it... Did he latch on?'

She didn't look at him. Or did she? Did she pay too much attention to them? Why did he follow her? Why?!

"Stay calm."

Layla took a slow breath and soothed herself with a murmur. The gloomy, ash-gray, translucent boy clung persistently to a corner of her vision. Layla turned her body with her back to the boy, struggling desperately not to turn her head toward him. Then she started walking.

"Stay calm. Don't panic."

Layla's steps grew faster and faster. But every time she glanced back, the boy was still there. Like a boiled egg with only the yolks plucked out, with only his eyes cleanly gone, he pursued her relentlessly with an expressionless face.

"Damn it! How far are you going to follow me!"

Unable to bear it any longer, Layla burst out yelling. At the same time, she abandoned her basket and broke into a run. Her footsteps pounding the ground quickened, and a hissing sound like snakes began in her ears.

—Layla...

"Shut up, Tommy! Don't call my name!"

Layla screamed. But the voice continued. No matter how much she covered her ears, it wouldn't stop. In her head, in her ears...

—Layla...

"Ahhh!"

Laila's body swayed backward when she stepped on the slippery soil. She barely pulled herself together and regained her balance after kicking off her half-removed shoe as if throwing it away. But the moment she tilted her head and looked back, two holes were suddenly right in front of her. She inhaled sharply and bit her tongue.

—Got you~

The boy who made eye contact with Layla—though of course he had no eyes to cast a gaze, but at least to Layla, it felt that way—grinned broadly.

"...Get away, Tommy."

Layla whispered through clenched teeth as she backed away. She wanted to swing something at him, but she'd abandoned her basket long ago and had nothing in her hands. As Layla shook her head while clenching her empty fists, Tommy's ghost drew closer. He was still smiling, and seemed even more pleased than before.

"Tommy, go away, I said go. Go play with your friends. Sit on the rocks and get some air, or just disappear somewhere already. Damn it, Tommy!"

Please don't come closer.

Please.

Her lower lip began trembling, then soon her chin started shaking too. Her teeth chattered together, but Layla was so terrified she didn't even realize the sound was coming from herself. The boy was now grinning so wide that if he smiled any more, the corners of his lips would reach below his ears.

"Tommy!"

At that moment, something crawled out from the empty eye sockets of the boy.

What is that? A snake? A centipede? Something else? It moved as if it to wrap itself around the ash-stained boy's face once, then shot straight toward Laila like an arrow.

"No!"

Layla screamed and reflexively raised both arms to cover her face. That was the moment.

Suddenly, a nauseating, ear-piercingly sound rang out. It was a screeching sound, like dragging a knife blade across stone. Lowering her arms and looking ahead, Layla opened her mouth, trembling at the utterly unbelievable sight.

—Screeeech... Krik...!

Tommy's body—or, more precisely, the boy who had once been Tommy—was contorting in a grotesque manner. His joints bent in unimaginable directions, and the elongated thing emerging from his eyes writhed as if scorched by fire.

Layla stared at that horrific sight as if mesmerized. The boy's body continued twisting and began shrinking, until it looked almost like a lump of forcibly kneaded plaster. What had once been the child's shoulder bulged out like a grotesque tumor, then pop! bursted.

"My God, what is this..."

Layla stumbled backward, bumping her back into something hard. Thinking it was a tree, she hurriedly turned her head and her gaze traveled upward. It wasn't a tree. Nor was it a ghost.

What Layla's back had bumped into was an unfamiliar man. He was exceptionally tall and had long hair, nearly white, tied up in a single bundle. The most distinctive feature was the monocle worn over his right eye.

"I finally found you."

The man said. At some point, he had gently grasped Layla's shoulder with his large hand. The moment Layla's bewildered lips twitched, the man lowered his head slightly and peered into Layla's eyes as he spoke.

"Yes... Indeed, you have different eyes than mine."

In that instant, her mother's voice—which she thought had faded long ago—flashed through Layla's mind.

'You have different eyes than mine.'

Layla's eyes blinked slowly. Her irises were red like pomegranate seeds, and the man observed them as if they were rare jewels before suddenly spinning Layla's body around.

Turned around by the man, Layla's eyes widened as if they would pop out.

Tommy was no longer there. Instead, all twelve children who had been huddled together on the rocks were.