MYSTERY OF TWO LODGES
CHAPTER 01 (PREVIOUS AND INTRODUCTION )

(INITIAL)

Good morning...

This time I have a special guest that the reader may know before, they are some of the survivors and meritorious on the case of the bloody Concert in the Villa of Curse.

They were Ali, Dani, Ukik, Broni, Tifano, and Wildan, while Ibor and Gilank could not attend due to their positions outside the city.

For this second guest was a project worker who somehow knew me who wrote about the bloody Concert.

Readers must have known that the six teenagers managed to escape from the white house in such circumstances, anyway they survived from there.

Well for now they plus Mr. Kaswadi come to me because of a follow-up case related to the white villa.

But not just white villas, it also has something to do with the peculiarities in the Waji hotel in the novel Indah laminatingrum.

Unfortunately the three characters in the novel Indah laminatingrum did not want to attend. When I confirm, they will come if I invite them to match what the six plus Kaswadi told me.

This time I will tell the story back to the readers by using a third-person perspective (a bit difficult and need adjustment first).

I tell stories based on what they tell me in my ways and traits, including the less honorable words they usually say.

All of this will be summarized into a story that the reader will enjoy without adding or subtracting the level of the story from them.

Let's go check it out

\=\=\=\=

(COMPANY)

His name is Kaswadi, he is only a construction worker from a contractor company that is destroying vacant houses in an empty village to be used as a resort.

What is resort?.. Things that Kaswadi often asked his theme, because he did not understand at all the meaning of the resort.

It was Saturday at five o'clock in the afternoon, Kaswadi as a laborer had returned to their homes, respectively, or for some who live outside the city can sleep on beds that have been provided by the company for a place to stay workers who do not go home.

Kaswadi himself usually returns home once a fortnight, once a fortnight for him to reduce the cost of travel because his house is a bit far from the project, Kaswadi comes from the Pct area, Kaskadi said, this village is located in Prgn area.

His job here is only as a construction worker who is tasked with inserting the remnants of a geragal that is not lifted escavator on a dum truck that is waiting to be filled immediately.

For some reason this afternoon he did not want to go home quickly, he was still cleaning up the remains of a house in a village that had been abandoned by its inhabitants.

Not left by the population anyway, more precisely maybe this village area has been purchased by rich cucumber to make what they usually call a resort.

That afternoon in the demolition area was deserted, all the workers had already left the area. Actually this is a strange thing, because usually the work of such a large project is done up to 24 hours right.

But do not know why, in the area is only allowed to work from 06.00 am to 17.00 pm only.

- Do the owners of money not lose with this limitation of working hours?-

“I don't know, I yes ndak mgurusi it mbak, the important thing I work then paid weekly here” replied Kaswadi

But Saturday afternoon after the payment, suddenly Kaswadi really had the desire to look back at the houses that had been destroyed.

The dim light of the floodlights at the end of the project was unable to illuminate almost the entire house that was torn down.

The mystical aura in the afternoon before this maghrib began to appear, but strangely Kaswadi felt he had to come to one of the houses here.

The house he was going to come to was located in the middle of an alley where part of his house was being demolished.

He was walking right in front of the escavator who tomorrow morning began to smash and straddle the ruins of the house.

He walked in a partially destroyed house, especially in the front room and living room, strangely Kaswadi could feel something like that here.

Surprisingly he can now also feel an emotional feeling in the house that he is looking carefully, but until now he does not know or do not know what causes an emotional feeling here.

In the dark evening before night, Kaswadi walked towards the back, precisely in the direction of the former bathroom of the house that had attracted his attention.

He noticed that the floor of the house was partly in the form of fine cement, and partly compacted soil, accidentally his eyes were fixed on an area on the floor that was not cemented.

This non-cementary floor is in the form of soil that is compacted to resemble cement.

But there was an area that caught the attention of Kaswadi, an area of land that was somewhat uneven for him than the others. Better is the language of the answer.

“What makes the floor look so, is there something buried under it” Thought Kaswadi curious

He was increasingly curious about the shape of the soil that can be bent, “but do I have to unload to cover my sense of alignment”

The situation here is quiet, the workers and ekavator operators are no longer in place. There are only project area guards who are still sitting on the roadside to change with night guard shifts.

“If as this land I unload tomorrow monday, fear that Monday has been eroded by heavy equipment that will do its job starting at 06.00 am exactly” murmured, he said, but this curiosity is becoming more and more about what is below it.

He borrowed it for a while to dismantle the mound or the lump of land in the house, he felt strange why it was so eager to dismantle the land.

According to the news from the foreman, the village was abandoned by its inhabitants because of a deadly disease, maybe about five years this village is empty.

And according to the story of coffee baskets that sell on the project from morning to evening, the village is haunted if it is night , many strange sightings in this village, the, no one dared to build anything here 'cause he said it could be good.

It had been ten minutes that he had tried to dismantle the mound of earth in the empty house, but it was very difficult to dismantle the solid ground.

Maybe the land was solidified many years ago, so now it can be as hard as cement, but the curiosity of Kaswadi exceeds the fatigue, he must be able to dismantle this land.

“But.... lest I unload this grave” he murmured while stopping the activity of bending this land.

“Ah can not be a grave, if the grave is not this small it is” he replied himself

then he continued to dismantle the blowpipe or mound of land

The night grew when this crowbar suddenly touched an object made of metal, he continued to dismantle the ground until the metal box object was increasingly visible in front of his eyes.

Cleansing the surface of the iron box from the dirt that dirty it, then slowly land he lifted the box in which it seems to have this content.

The iron box that was not too heavy was successfully lifted from the ground. He tried to shake the iron box which might be 40 cm long, 30 cm wide, with a height of about 10 cm. Inside it turns out there is a ubluk ubluk ubluk sound.

There was a strange incident when the box he lifted, suddenly a cold wind blew around there, this cold gust of wind gave him goosebumps, about a minute this cold wind blew.

\=\=\=

The night is getting darker, the light is only at the entrance of the project, it is clear that Kaswadi will not open the box there, he had to bring out this iron box first.

But if he went out through the project gate, the night watchman would ask him what he was carrying, or what he was doing here until nightfall. So he better get out through the woods over there.

According to him, the forest there is a dense forest and quite terrible, even some of the fellow workers there no one dared to enter the forest, Iha but instead he was reckless the nights after Maghrib even passed by there.

“Bismilahirahmanirahim.mugo-mugo ndak no one bothers me” Kaswadi said in his heart.

Kaswadi continued to walk towards the middle of the forest is quite creepy, but fortunately there is nothing that bothers him in the forest, until then the journey he penetrated to a plantation of residents in a village.

From the village, Kaswadi continued walking towards the crowd to look for angkot which headed to the area of origin in Pct.

It turns out that according to Kaswadi there in the area whose name is Gebang many angkots are heading towards Pct, making it easier for him to go home.

About an hour drive, finally angkot arrived at the area of origin of Kaswadi, now he continues to walk from the place of this angkot stop heading to his residence.

“In this village angkot always stop here, they stop to wait for passengers who will go towards Prgn”, Kaswadi told me

The house where Kaswadi lived was in a narrow alley, the alley could only be passed by a motorbike, and it had to be guided, because this narrow road was difficult when made to cross two motorcycles.

Not too long it turned out that Kaswadi had arrived in front of his house, by then it might have been 21:00, eve in the village where he lived very cold, understand where he lived this is at the foot of the mountain.

In the house there are only isrti and two children who are each 10 years old named Prawiro or commonly called Wiro, and his only sister named Cenik who usually dipangil ninik age 8 years.

It turned out that the lights of the house Kaswadi had been extinguished because it was already night, maybe his wife had also slept because she did not think that Kaswadi was now home, because according to his habits he went home once every two weeks.

he knocked on the door a few times while calling his wife's name, and finally the living room lights that double the kitchen lit up, from here he could hear that his wife was walking towards the door.

“Siapppaaaa?” ask his wife from inside the house

“I bu, bukake lawang” replied Kaswadi while scratching his groin that itches because of the leaves of time in the forest

 “Kok wis mulih pack (kok already home sir)” asked his wife to see him home earlier than usual

(Further conversation will be interpreted using Indonesian only so that readers can understand it)

“Kangen same family mom, once home cepet bu” replied Kaswadi while kissing his wife's forehead with a friendly

“That's what sir, why bring an iron box everything, not belong to the project right sir, do not do evil you pak”

“Ndak ma'am, this I can find under the ground the house to be dismantled bu, I don't know what isine, it has not opened bu, it has not opened bu, tomorrow ajat we open” replied Kaswadi while sitting in the living room

He kept the strange box under his bed, then after he took a bath and prayed Isha, he fulfilled his duty as a strong and durable husband.

A cold morning with a glass of coffee made by his wife and a cigarette klembak menjan made in muntilan middle Java which became his kegemonya, usually this smoking gun he suctioned if Friday night kliwon in the project to find ramesan number.

Kaswadi sits in a living room that is quite narrow but quite comfortable than in the powder project that is narrowed to the other workers.

“Buke, bring here the box I found yesterday in the project ma'am, I'm curious about isine bu, ma'am, who knows isine is a fortune for us bu hehehe” he cried to his wife who was in the room