Nothing: The God of Nothingness Chapter 2: The Mark Beneath the Moon

Read chapter 2 of Nothing: The God of Nothingness by mrjapturk on NovelPedia.

The next morning, Grandpa woke me before sunrise. I could barely keep my eyes open. Cold wind slipped through the cracks in the wooden walls while darkness still covered the forest outside. The fireplace had already burned out during the night, leaving the house quiet and freezing. “Get up,” Grandpa said. I groaned and pulled the blanket over my head. “It’s still dark.” “That’s exactly why you need to wake up.” A few seconds later, the blanket was ripped away from me. I sat up immediately. “Hey!” Grandpa ignored my complaint and tossed a small knife onto the bed beside me. “Today, you hunt alone.” I stared at him for a moment. Alone? Usually he at least followed nearby while pretending not to watch me. But this time felt different. “You’re not coming?” I asked. “I’ll know if you survive.” Then he walked away toward the kitchen as if he had said something completely normal. I sat there silently for several seconds. Sometimes I genuinely wondered if Grandpa understood how strange he sounded. The forest behind our house stretched farther than anyone in the village dared to travel. Tall trees blocked most sunlight even during daytime, making the deeper parts feel cold and unnatural. Grandpa once told me that ancient monsters used to roam there long ago. I asked him if they still existed. He simply replied: “Some things don’t disappear. They just learn how to hide.” That answer stayed in my mind far longer than I wanted it to. By the time I entered the forest that morning, fog still covered the ground. The wet grass brushed against my legs while distant bird calls echoed between the trees. At first, everything seemed peaceful. But forests are strange places. No matter how quiet they look, something is always watching. I could feel it. Maybe it was just instinct. Or maybe Grandpa’s stories had poisoned my imagination. Either way, I tightened my grip around the knife. “Relax,” I muttered to myself. I sounded nervous even to my own ears. After walking deeper into the forest, I eventually spotted rabbit tracks near a patch of bushes. Fresh ones. I crouched down immediately. Grandpa had taught me how to identify tracks properly months ago. “Observe before acting,” he always said. “Animals survive because they notice danger before danger notices them.” I followed the tracks carefully through the undergrowth until I finally spotted movement near a fallen tree. A rabbit. Small. White. Completely unaware of me. Slowly, I reached for the trap wire wrapped around my waist. Then— Crunch. I froze. A twig had snapped behind me. The rabbit immediately bolted away into the bushes. “Damn it.” I turned around quickly. Nothing was there. Only trees. Silence. But my chest tightened slightly. Because I knew something. Forests don’t make sounds without reason. I scanned the surroundings carefully. Still nothing. Eventually, I exhaled slowly. “…Probably an animal.” Even so, I couldn’t shake the strange feeling crawling beneath my skin. It felt like invisible eyes were following me between the trees. Watching. Waiting. I returned home with only two rabbits that day. Grandpa looked disappointed. “You lost focus,” he said while skinning one of them near the sink. “How do you know?” “You came back nervous.” I stayed silent. He glanced toward me briefly. “What did you hear?” “…A sound.” “What kind?” “I don’t know.” Grandpa stopped moving for a moment. Then he continued skinning the rabbit calmly. “If the forest wants you dead,” he said quietly, “you won’t hear anything at all.” That somehow made me feel worse. Days passed quietly after that. Grandpa continued teaching me as usual. Reading during mornings. Survival lessons during afternoons. Combat training before sunset. At night, I often sat near the window reading monster encyclopedias while listening to the forest outside. Life was repetitive. Lonely. But stable. Then winter arrived. And with it came the horse. I still remember the exact moment Grandpa brought her home. Snow covered the ground outside whil