3:00 AM. The mansion was shrouded in an ominous silence. Outside, the moon hung dim behind a veil of mist, casting only the faintest light to outline the shapes in the darkness. The caws of distant crows echoed hauntingly through the night air.

  Vú N?m, having just left My's room, still couldn't fall asleep. The image in the mirror haunted her mind:

  A towering man with a muscular build, two spiraling horns rising from his head, and a radiant five-colored crown embedded into his forehead—crafted as if from the crystals of hell. He was seated upon a pitch-black throne… and watching the world of humans.

  She whispered a desperate prayer:

  "Dear heavens... please, no... whoever that was, it must be an omen. A great disaster is coming…"

  She got out of bed, bent down, and reached under it. Her hands trembled, but with determination, she pulled out a small wooden chest, its surface covered in the fine dust of age.

  “It’s been years… since I last laid eyes on this book.”

  Opening the chest, she revealed an old, thick tome bound in dark cowhide leather, fastened with a brass clasp. At the center of its cover was the image of a demon's eye—closed tightly.

  She murmured to herself:

  “That thing I saw… it’s so familiar. I think this book mentioned it once… I’ve read about it before.”

  The first page bled with crimson ink, as though written in blood:

  “Infernum Regum – The Kings of Hell.”

  She flipped quickly to a bookmarked section, marked with an old talisman. The yellowed page revealed an illustration that made her heart pound—an exact match to the figure she'd seen in My's mirror.

  The Demon King: Satan.

  Beneath the eerie black-ink drawing was a chilling inscription:

  "SATAN – Lord of the Shadow World, Demon King of all fiends, Judge of human souls, Ruler of the infernal lands. When he manifests in the mortal realm, black smoke shall lead the way, mirrors shall reflect the beyond, and those who have sinned against him shall be punished without mercy."

  As she read those words, Vú N?m's body trembled violently. Cold sweat poured down her face, her skin turned pale, and her eyes locked onto the image of the demon king.

  “Dear God… could it really be… him?”

  At that very moment, the ceiling lights in her room flickered erratically. A freezing chill swept through the room like a spectral wind. Sweat drenched her entire body, goosebumps rose along her arms, and her lips moved in frantic prayer:

  "Please forgive me. I’ve done no wrong. I mean no disrespect. Please… don’t haunt me."

  Just as her prayer ended, the room fell silent once more. The lights steadied. The cold vanished. Everything returned to normal—

  But deep inside her trembling heart, Vú N?m knew… nothing would ever be the same again.

  Just as Vú N?m finished her prayer, a bloodcurdling scream erupted from My’s room, echoing through the dark halls of the villa:

  – "Aaaa! Help me! They… the worms… they’re crawling out of my body!!"

  Vú N?m jolted upright, the ancient book nearly slipping from her hands. Without hesitation, she placed the book back into the chest, slammed it shut, and quickly shoved it under the bed before dashing out of the room toward My’s.

  She burst through My’s door.

  On the bed, My was thrashing about, her face drenched in sweat and twisted in panic. Her fingers clawed at the bedsheets, her pale lips trembling, repeating the same phrase over and over:

  – "They’re… they’re writhing inside me! Help! There’s something crawling under my skin!"

  Vú N?m rushed to her, gripping her shoulders and patting her cheeks, her voice firm yet full of care:

  – "My! Wake up! It’s me, Vú N?m! Wake up now!"

  My’s eyes shot open. She bolted upright, her body soaked with sweat. Clutching Vú N?m’s arm, her eyes were wide with primal terror:

  – "Vú N?m… I saw them… those slimy, wriggling things… crawling out of me, one by one… I saw them with my own eyes!"

  Vú N?m tried to calm her:

  – "You need to breathe. It was just a nightmare. Nothing’s in your body. You’re okay."

  But My shook her head, still trembling:

  – "No! It felt too real… like something’s gnawing at me from the inside… alive inside me!"

  Vú N?m’s eyes froze for a moment. A creeping dread stirred in her chest—deep and unexplainable.

  My clung to her:

  – "Vú N?m, can you sleep here tonight? Please… I’m too scared. I can’t be alone anymore."

  – "Of course. I’ll stay. Don’t worry, I’m here."

  Silence gradually returned to the room.

  Vú N?m lay beside My, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. In her heart, she knew… this was no ordinary nightmare. What My had seen might be a warning—an omen from a powerful force now residing in the human world.

  That night, every time My closed her eyes, she saw a pale white body cracking open from within. Swarms of tiny, glistening, blood-hued creatures oozed out in waves. She screamed in her sleep, curled into a trembling ball of terror. More than once she bolted upright, sobbing in horror:

  – "It’s coming, Vú N?m… I swear, the worms, they’re writhing… they’re alive inside me."

  Vú N?m held her close, whispering:

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  – "It’s just a nightmare, nothing more. I’m right here with you. Calm down now, try to sleep a little more. Dawn is almost here."

  It wasn’t until the first ray of sunlight pierced through the thin curtains that My finally drifted off in sheer exhaustion.

  But Vú N?m didn’t sleep at all. She sat awake, watching the pale face of her young mistress, her thoughts restless and fearful:

  "If that really was the Demon King Satan… then these nightmares are only the beginning."

  9 AM.

  Sunlight pierced through the thin curtain, illuminating the luxurious room still shrouded in a lingering chill—an eerie residue from the night before.

  My sat curled up on the bed, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Her hair was disheveled, dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her complexion was pale like someone who hadn’t slept in days. She murmured in a broken voice:

  “The insects... they're crawling out of me... they’re inside me…”

  Standing nearby, Vú N?m watched with growing dread. She couldn’t stay silent any longer. Something was deeply wrong.

  Quietly, she pulled out her phone and dialed the number of My’s parents, who were away on business in Nha Trang.

  – “Sir, Ma’am… please come back immediately. Miss My’s been having terrible nightmares since yesterday. She’s delirious, keeps muttering in fear... I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  She sighed heavily after hanging up, then promptly called Tu?n, My’s fiancé.

  – “Mr Tu?n… please come quickly. My’s in trouble… she hasn’t stopped having nightmares since last night. She’s still panicking in her room, hasn’t calmed down at all.”

  Less than thirty minutes later, a car screeched to a halt at the front gate. Tu?n rushed out, sprinting into the mansion and straight up the stairs. Vú N?m followed close behind, opening the bedroom door. They both hurried in.

  The moment she saw him, My lunged forward, clinging tightly to him, her whole body trembling, her voice barely audible through her panic:

  “Honey! The insects... they’re crawling out of my body! I’m so scared! So scared!”

  Tu?n wrapped his arms around her, gently rubbing her back, speaking softly:

  – “It’s okay... calm down, baby… It was just a nightmare. Maybe you’ve been watching too many horror movies or reading scary stories. It’s just your mind playing tricks.”

  My shook her head frantically, tears streaming down her cheeks, her eyes wild with fear:

  “No… it wasn’t a dream! I could feel them, crawling inside me… one by one… like they were real! I’m not lying… I saw it!”

  Tu?n turned to Vú N?m, his voice tense:

  – “She’s been like this since yesterday?”

  – “Yes, sir... since midnight. She’s been mumbling, screaming... and hasn’t eaten anything all morning.”

  He gently tightened his grip on My’s shoulders. A creeping sense of unease began to rise in his chest. Logic told him it was psychological—perhaps a mental breakdown. But her terrified eyes, her trembling voice, her desperate conviction... didn’t feel like any mental illness he’d ever known.

  Behind them, Vú N?m remained silent, standing to the side, eyes conflicted with unspoken truths. She didn’t dare speak it out loud, but deep inside, she already knew:

  “This isn’t her imagination. Something

  has crossed over... and it’s punishing My.”

  Morning sunlight slipped through the gaps in the wooden shutters, casting soft rays onto the bamboo bed pressed against the wall. Trang stirred gently before slowly opening her eyes. Her eyelids still felt heavy from the deep, restful sleep following the exhaustion of yesterday’s wedding.

  She turned and sat up, her head spinning slightly, but it passed quickly. After washing up and brushing her long hair neatly, she put on a khaki jacket, ready to head to the market to buy ingredients for the afternoon’s street food stall.

  As soon as she opened the door of her small rental room, a delicious aroma of Bánh Xèo (Vietnamese sizzling pancakes) from a charcoal stove in the shared courtyard hit her nose, making her stomach growl with hunger.

  ?ng Nhan was crouched by the stove, carefully pouring ladles of golden batter onto a well-worn cast iron pan. As the batter crisped up, he added stir-fried pork, bean sprouts, and tiny silver shrimps, then drizzled some pork fat to prevent the pancakes from sticking or burning.

  He glanced over and smiled kindly.

  — “You’re up, Trang? Come have some Bánh Xèo. I just made them—they're extra crispy!”

  She hadn’t eaten since last night. The smell was too tempting to resist. Beaming, she rushed over and sat beside him, her eyes lighting up.

  — “Oh wow! These smell amazing! I didn’t eat anything last night, I’m starving, ?ng Nhan!”

  He chuckled warmly.

  — “Then eat up, girl. You need strength for your afternoon shift. I made some garlic-fish sauce with chopped chilies—it’s in that bowl. Grab some pickled veggies too.”

  Trang scooped the dipping sauce into two small ceramic bowls, added pickled carrots and daikon from a clay jar, then sat down on an old wooden bench beside him. Her chopsticks moved swiftly, lifting the crispy pancakes onto rustic plates, wrapping them with forest herbs.

  The wild greens—native to Tay Ninh—had all been handpicked and washed by ?ng Nhan. In the bamboo basket were leaves with names like moonleaf, Vietnamese balm, wild tamarind, bitter leaf, guava leaf, and more—up to nine different herbs. Together, they created an explosion of flavors.

  The dipping sauce, rich with garlic, chili, and tangy pickles, rounded out the perfect bite.

  The crackling crunch, the soft laughter, the warm scents of countryside spices—all of it blended into a simple yet heartwarming morning.

  — “?ng Nhan, your Bánh Xèo are the best in this whole neighborhood!”

  — “You mean it? Then tomorrow I’ll make a few more trays and sell them at the market, eh?”

  They laughed together, sharing the quiet peace of the early city morning.

  Trang had no idea: the gentle old man sitting before her was no ordinary neighbor. He was the hidden monarch of shadows—ruler of the realm between dreams and waking. And now, the figure of the D

  emon King was beginning to emerge.

  After a simple yet heartwarming breakfast, Trang didn’t forget to help ?ng Nhan clean up.

  “Let me wash the dishes for you. You already made those Bánh Xèo for me.”

  ?ng Nhan’s voice was gentle:

  “Alright, thank you. Having you here makes me happy. It’s rare to find someone so kind. I truly treasure you.”

  When the dishes were done, Trang quickly wheeled out her old silver Cub 50cc motorcycle parked in the courtyard — the familiar bike that had been with her through years of struggling to make a living.

  As she strapped on her helmet, she muttered to herself:

  “Skipped selling for the wedding yesterday. Gotta make up for that today.”

  The engine coughed to life, and the bike slowly rolled out of the boarding house. Sunlight pierced through the rusty tin roofs, casting mottled shadows across the narrow alley as her figure disappeared into the web of tangled power lines and bustling morning chaos.

  Back in the courtyard, ?ng Nhan continued watching her leave — the orphaned girl he had always treated like his own daughter. His eyes were distant, contemplative, as though weighed down by a silent burden.

  Once the sound of the motor faded, he turned back to his room. Quietly, he shut the door and bolted it.

  The atmosphere changed instantly — silence thickened into a suffocating stillness.

  He sat calmly on his old wooden chair. The narrow beams of light that once filtered in were now gone, swallowed by an encroaching darkness. It was as if night itself had seeped into the room.

  Raising a bony hand, he traced a slow circle in the air.

  A wooden oval mirror, its frame etched with intricate runes in an ancient language, shimmered into existence, suspended mid-air. The glass didn’t reflect his image — instead, it revealed a different scene.

  “Let’s see... how little My is doing,” he said coldly. His voice echoed with a spectral chill, a far cry from the kind old man’s tone — now the voice of a Dark King watching the effects of a cursed gift bestowed upon those foolish enough to harm someone he held dear.

  He gently touched the mirror’s surface.

  A vivid image bloomed — an opulent room within a grand mansion. My was curled under the blankets, trembling, her face pale with terror. Sweat drenched her body. Beside her, Tuan held her tightly, trying to calm her.

  “It’s okay, it’s just a nightmare,” he whispered.

  But My kept mumbling:

  “No... it wasn’t a dream... the bugs... they crawled out for real... you have to believe me…”

  ?ng Nhan smirked, his eyes shifting to a gleaming amber — like those of a predator poised in the dark.

  “This... is just the overture. Let those arrogant elites understand: Hell is not just a concept in textbooks... it’s a kingdom that exists — and I am its ruler.”

  He tilted his head, that sinister grin widening.

  “I have plenty more gifts from the underworld to deliver, my precious little rich girl... You and your pompous little circle will savor every bite.”

  The mirror shimmered, the scene dissolving into smoke.

  “You dare lay a hand on the one I see as my daughter... Then you’ve all clearly grown tired of living.”

  A stream of glossy black mist slithered out of the void, coiling around his legs like mythical serpents. In that moment, the humble boarding room transformed — no longer merely a living space, but a threshold between this world and the underworld.

  And beyond it… the shadow of a throne stretched long acros

  s the floor, waiting for its master to take his seat.