The Boiled One : Melted Truth(Phenomenon)

Part-1

The sky was a canvas of angry, swirling clouds, each one pregnant with rain. Fat, heavy droplets lashed against the windshield of the Thompson family car, blurring the view ahead. The wind howled, a mournful symphony that seemed to echo the family's growing unease.

"Are you sure about this, dear?" Mrs. Thompson's voice, usually soft and reassuring, carried a hint of worry. "This storm is getting worse by the minute. Perhaps we should find a safe place to wait it out?"

Mr. Thompson, his grip tight on the steering wheel, glanced at his wife. "We're almost there, honey. Just a few more miles." His voice, though steady, couldn't quite mask the tension in his eyes.

In the backseat, Aiden and Ashley, huddled together, were more fascinated than frightened by the tempestuous weather. They watched the raindrops race each other down the windowpane, their laughter a stark contrast to the growing gloom outside.

Suddenly, a blinding flash of lightning illuminated the interior of the car, followed by a deafening clap of thunder. The car jolted, and for a moment, it felt as if they were being tossed about on a stormy sea.

"What was that?" Ashley's voice, filled with surprise, cut through the silence.

"Just a little bump in the road," Mr. Thompson replied, his voice strained. But his eyes, fixed on the road ahead, held a flicker of fear.

As the storm raged on, an eerie silence settled over the car. The only sounds were the relentless drumming of rain and the intermittent crackle of thunder. A strange, almost otherworldly feeling crept into the air, a sense of impending doom that chilled the family to the bone.

The car lurched to a halt in a cloud of mud and gravel. Ten minutes had stretched into an eternity under the relentless storm, each passing second adding to the oppressive atmosphere. Finally, Mr. Thompson spotted it - their new house.

A ramshackle two-story structure loomed on the left side of the road, its outline barely visible through the sheets of cascading rain. Muddied windows stared back like vacant eyes, and the porch light hung limp, offering no welcoming glow.

Despite its desolation, a sense of relief washed over the family. They piled out, rain stinging their faces, and huddled together as they made a dash for the front door. A lone security guard, hunched beneath a tattered umbrella, materialized from the shadows.

"Mr. Thompson?" he rasped, his voice barely audible over the storm's roar.

Mr. Thompson nodded, a tense smile creasing his face. "That's me. Nice to meet you."

The guard grunted, his face hidden in the darkness beneath his hood. "Rough weather to be moving in. Here, take these." He fished a set of keys from his pocket and shoved them into Mr. Thompson's hand. "Everything's been arranged inside. Welcome to your new home."

The words hung heavy in the air, devoid of any warmth or enthusiasm. Mr. Thompson mumbled a thank you as the guard vanished back into the storm, leaving them feeling even more unsettled.

The house loomed before them, its silence broken only by the relentless drumming of rain on the roof. Unlocking the creaking door, a wave of stale, dusty air washed over them. Inside, the dim light revealed a large living room. Cobwebs draped the corners, and furniture shrouded in white sheets hinted at a long period of neglect.

"Well," Mr. Thompson forced a smile, "welcome to your new home, kids."

Mrs. Thompson, usually bright and cheerful, looked around with an apprehensive frown. "Finally," she sighed, "but it seems a bit... bigger than I remembered."