The Luna the Moon Erased

Vayra’s POV The woman’s front door had been locked from the inside. I stood in the hallway of apartment seventeen, staring at the splintered wood around the lock while the building manager kept insisting that nobody could have entered. “Then how did she disappear?” I asked. He rubbed both hands over his face. “I don’t know.” “That’s why I’m here.” I stepped closer to the door. The apartment smelled of cold dust, cooking oil, and the sharp lemon cleaner someone had used after the police left. Nothing about the place looked disturbed. A handbag sat on the kitchen counter, a half-finished cup of tea rested beside it, and her shoes were still beneath the chair. The woman had vanished without taking anything with her, and that alone was strange. The mark on the door was worse. Someone had carved a circle into the wood, but the center had been scratched away until only rough splinters remained. I had seen symbols in missing-person cases before. Gang signs, private marks, religious symbols, and meaningless scratches left behind by frightened people. This one, however, made my fingers go cold. I knew it. I just didn't know from where. “Detective?” “Investigator,” I corrected automatically. The manager swallowed. “Sorry.” I crouched near the mark and studied it carefully. The scratches were fresh, and whoever had made them had pressed hard enough to leave dents around the edges. My hand moved toward it before I could stop myself. “Don't touch it,” my partner called from behind me. I pulled back immediately. For one strange second, I had the unsettling feeling that the symbol was looking back at me. Ridiculous. It was only a piece of carved wood. I stood and turned toward the manager. “Who found her missing?” “Her sister. She came yesterday morning.” “And she saw the mark?” The manager nodded. “Did the sister mention anyone threatening her? Arguments? Strange visitors?” “No. Not that I know of.” I looked around the apartment again. “Cameras?” “The hallway camera stopped working two nights ago.” “Convenient.” His expression tightened. “It wasn't planned.” “I didn't say it was.” My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw Nysara’s name on the screen before answering. “What?” “You've been ignoring me.” “I've been working.” “You've been working for six hours.” “You counted?” “Obviously.” I smiled despite myself. “What do you want?” “To remind you that you promised to eat today.” “I ate.” “When?” My eyes drifted toward the untouched sandwich in my bag. “Recently.” “That means no.” “Nysara—” “Don't Nysara me. Come home before midnight.” “I'll try.” “You always say that.” She hung up before I could answer. My partner laughed quietly. “Your friend scares you more than criminals.” “She should.” I slipped my phone away and looked at the mark again. Something about it bothered me. Not because I thought it was connected to the disappearance, but because it felt familiar. I had drawn the same symbol before, hundreds of times, usually without noticing. I had drawn it on notebooks, receipts, and the corners of reports. Once, when I was twelve, I had even drawn it on the wall beside my bed. My mother had scrubbed that one away, and when I asked her why I had drawn it, she had gone strangely quiet. I never got an answer. “Vayra.” I looked up. My partner was standing beside the open bedroom door. “You need to see this.” He led me into the bedroom. The missing woman's bed was neatly made, her wardrobe was closed, and everything seemed to be in its proper place. Then I noticed the framed photograph sitting on the bedside table. It was a family picture. The woman stood between two older people, smiling at the camera. Behind them was a forest unlike anything I had ever seen in real life. The trees were silver, the ground was black, and a red moon hung above the branches. My stomach tightened. I had seen that place before, but not in a photograph. I had seen it in my dreams. Night after night, I dreamed about the same impossible forest. I had never known whether it was real or something my mind had created. There was always a castle beyond the trees, a frozen lake beneath a dark sky, and a little girl screaming my name. There was also a man who stood across the ice, watching me. I had never been able to see his face clearly, but tonight, for the first time, I could remember his eyes. They were grey, cold, and furious. My phone vibrated again. This time, it wasn't Nysara. It was an unknown number. I opened the message and read, DO NOT FOLLOW THE MARK. A second message arrived almost immediately: YOU'VE ALREADY BEEN FOUND. I stared at the screen. “Everything okay?” my partner asked. I locked the phone. “Yeah.” It was the easiest lie I had ever told. Outside, somewhere below us, a car door slammed. Then came three knocks on the apartment door. Nobody moved. My partner's hand immediately went to his weapon. The knocks came again, three slow and deliberate knocks that seemed to echo through the apartment. I looked at the symbol carved into the door. For the first time, I noticed something I had missed. The erased center wasn't completely empty. Someone had scratched a tiny line through the middle, creating the shape of a crescent moon. Beneath it, almost hidden in the damaged wood, were two words: MY LUNA. My partner glanced at me. “Did you hear that?” I nodded. The manager had disappeared down the stairs, and I could hear his hurried footsteps fading into the distance. “Stay behind me,” my partner whispered. I almost laughed. “You know I don't do that.” “This time, do it.” The handle moved once and then stopped. Neither of us spoke. A thin line of darkness appeared beneath the door as someone stepped closer from the hallway. I raised my hand, signaling silence. The handle turned again, and the door opened three inches. An elderly woman stood outside. She wore a dark coat despite the warmth of the building, and her silver hair was pulled tightly away from her face. She looked at my partner before her eyes moved toward me. The moment she saw my wrist, her expression changed. I had always worn a narrow black bracelet there. My mother had given it to me when I was little and told me never to remove it. The woman pointed at it. “You still have it.” My mouth went dry. “Do I know you?” She ignored my question and stepped backward. “You shouldn't have come here.” “Who are you?” “You need to leave Orvane.” My partner moved toward her. “Wait.” The woman suddenly turned and ran. My partner chased after her, and I followed close behind. But when I reached the stairwell, there was nobody there. Only the fading echo of footsteps remained. My partner returned a minute later, breathing hard. “Gone.” I looked down and noticed something glittering on the floor. It was a small silver pendant. I picked it up, and the moment it touched my palm, a sharp image flashed through my mind. I saw a woman kneeling beside a frozen lake while a baby cried nearby. Someone was shouting, and above the trees hung a red moon. Then a voice came from somewhere close, so close that it felt like a whisper against my ear. “Hide her before he finds her.” I dropped the pendant. The hallway returned around me, and my partner stared at my face. “What happened?” “I don't know.” He crouched down and picked up the pendant. There was blood along its edge. Fresh blood. I looked at my palm. There was no cut, yet the pendant was warm against his fingers. Behind us, apartment seventeen creaked. The door slowly opened wider by itself. My partner turned toward it, but I couldn't move. From inside the apartment came the faint sound of a child crying. My heart began pounding as I stared into the dark room. Then the child spoke. “Vayra.” I froze. I knew that voice. Every part of me knew it. Because it wasn't the voice of a stranger. It was mine.