CHAPTER 1 — The Six-Year-Old Pulled a Rope from the River… Minutes Later, the Entire Town Was Running Toward the Shore 😨😱
The summer afternoon felt almost too peaceful.
The river shimmered beneath the sunlight while birds sang high in the trees. A group of neighborhood boys laughed as they raced homemade bark boats downstream, convinced each one would become a pirate ship sailing toward some hidden kingdom.
Six-year-old Ilya was the smallest among them, but everyone knew he was also the bravest.
Or perhaps... the most curious.
While chasing a drifting boat, he noticed something strange lying near the muddy shoreline.
A thick rope.
It looked old, soaked, and covered with green algae. One end rested on the sand, while the other disappeared beneath the dark water.
"What do you think it's tied to?" Ilya whispered.
One boy shrugged.
"Probably garbage."
Another shook his head nervously.
"My grandfather says never touch anything sticking out of the river."
But curiosity won.
Ilya wrapped both tiny hands around the rope.
Cold.
Slimy.
Heavy.
He pulled.
Nothing.
Then suddenly...
The rope tightened.
Something on the other end had moved.
His heartbeat quickened.
"I'm serious!" he shouted. "There's something attached!"
His friends slowly stepped backward.
One laughed nervously.
Another crossed himself.
"Ilya... let it go."
Instead, the little boy leaned back with all his strength.
The rope slowly slid across the wet sand.
Something enormous was dragging across the riverbed.
The water began swirling.
Tiny bubbles surfaced.
Dark mud rose from below.
For several terrifying seconds...
Nothing else happened.
Then...
A massive wooden object emerged from beneath the water.
Everyone screamed.
It looked like an ancient chest.
Covered in thick mud.
Wrapped with rusted iron bands.
The boys scattered in every direction.
Only Ilya remained.
His legs trembled, but he couldn't stop staring.
He reached forward and wiped away the mud with his sleeve.
Carved into the wood were faded letters almost impossible to read.
"Property of..."
The rest had rotted away.
Just then, an elderly fisherman came running after hearing the children's screams.
The old man's face turned completely white.
"Oh no..."
he whispered.
"Not again."
Before anyone could ask what he meant, more people began rushing toward the riverbank.
Within minutes, nearly the entire village surrounded the mysterious chest.
No one dared touch it.
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Because every person over sixty remembered the same forgotten story.
A story about a family that disappeared from this river almost fifty years earlier...
