Guests, And Yet...

"Deep in the starlit stillness of An-Nafud desert... where Sulaiman's fate was about to change forever."

 

Chapter 1: The Silence of Al-Sa'afeeq in the Heart of the Sands

 Nearly four centuries ago, in the very heart of the An-Nafud desert—a realm of sweeping sand dunes known locally as Al-Tu'oos, whose hidden paths were known to none save its own people—there lived a Bedouin man named Sulaiman. He had chosen total solitude of his own free will for the sake of his camels and their young, moving amongst the dunes alongside his herds and a small flock of sheep. It was deep winter, a season that made roaming these towering ridges bearable. He had no neighbor to share his days, nor did travelers ever pass by to pierce the heavy desolate darkness of the Nafud nights. His shelter was merely a worn-out tent, offering a slight barrier against the biting winter winds where he sought refuge from the severe desert frost.

He knew the Nafud as intimately as the palm of his hand; he read the wind's direction from the shifting sand, and navigated the night sky by the stars as if guided by a compass or modern maps. His life unfolded in an unwavering rhythm: at the first crack of dawn, he would lead his livestock out, following dried water basins in search of desert shrubs like Arta and Ghada. Before sunset, he would retreat to his fragile tent, gathering whatever firewood he could find. As darkness fell, he would light his campfire at the tent’s entrance, sipping his coffee in solitude while gazing out at the vast blackness before him. He never complained of this isolation—he loved the desert, and the desert loved him back—until that ominous night arrived, turning his world completely upside down.

Chapter 2: The Dark Ominous Night

At the last sip from his coffee pot, he rose and grabbed his milking vessel, heading toward the lactating camels at the far edge of the pen where the herd rested for the night. Mid-milking, the distinct sound of camel hooves striking the sand echoed through the dark, accompanied by a low, guttural roar—a sound jarringly alien, unlike any produced by his own camels. He paused, attempting to pierce the pitch-black night with his gaze. Through the gloom emerged the shadow of a rider approaching. Sulaiman called out with traditional hospitality: "Welcome, dear guest!" Yet the stranger offered no reply. He brought his mount to its knees, leaving it untethered and unhobbled in the sand. "Hobble your camel," Sulaiman advised. The stranger rasped back, "Do not fear, she will not stray... but where is the water? I am dying of thirst," his voice barely clinging to the last threads of life.

They walked together until reaching the edge of the tent, where the stranger collapsed onto his knees near the fire. In a hoarse, suffocating whisper, he gasped: "Water… water… where is the water?" Sulaiman instantly replied, "Be at ease, I shall fetch it now"—for in the desert, aid and hospitality are a sacred creed before a mere tradition. He rushed to untie the waterskin hanging inside his tent and quenched the stranger's thirst. He then offered what meager food he had: dates, a crust of dry bread, and fresh warm milk. The stranger ate with a chilling stillness, keeping his head bowed, refusing to make eye contact with his host. Whenever Sulaiman attempted to engage him in conversation, asking of his route or origins, the stranger offered only swift, cryptic answers that left Sulaiman's curiosity completely unfulfilled.

As the first third of the night drew to a close, the stranger asked to rest. Sulaiman welcomed him, making space inside the tent. Yet that night was merely the prelude to events defying human comprehension, starting when Sulaiman noticed a sudden, agitated restlessness among his camels and sheep. He brushed it aside, telling himself it was merely the bitter winter winds troubling the herd.

Chapter 3: Sulaiman's Growing Suspicion

 Once the guest appeared to sleep, Sulaiman covered him with his heavy fur cloak. Suddenly, the stranger awakened, kicking the thick cloak away with immense force without speaking a single word. Sulaiman watched in disbelief as the heavy garment flew through the air as effortlessly as a feather, landing far outside the tent. What superhuman strength is this?! he muttered to himself. Troubling anomalies began to accumulate, planting deep roots of suspicion and driving sleep completely from his eyes.

Terrifying thoughts raced through Sulaiman's mind as he tossed endlessly. Around midnight, the stranger rose and walked out into the dark. The moment he stepped outside, the livestock erupted into chaos, panicking and fleeing hysterically as though sensing an invisible, predatory danger. Sulaiman rushed out, shouting his usual soothing calls to calm his camels and herd them back, suspecting the stranger was a thief attempting to steal his cattle.

The mysterious guest returned to the tent silently and resumed his sleep, leaving Sulaiman struggling to convince himself that these were merely illusions born of isolation and exhaustion. Yet a single night was more than enough to unmask the horrifying reality.

Chapter 4: The Final Hours and Testing the Doubts

In the deep, quiet hours just before dawn, Sulaiman awoke to the sound of faint whispering outside the tent. Assuming another lost traveler had chanced upon his camp, he gripped the hilt of his dagger and crawled cautiously, peering through a small slit in the fabric.

The scene before him froze the blood in his veins: the stranger sat alone in the open wasteland beneath the pitch-black sky, conversing with thin air! He did not speak in a single tone; his voice shifted continuously as if two distinct entities were exchanging dialogue—asking questions in a soft, gentle murmur, then instantly responding to himself in a sharp, guttural pitch resembling the harsh buzzing of wild bees.

Sulaiman retreated back into his bedding, pretending to sleep though his eyes remained wide open. He never saw his guest re-enter the tent, and terror consumed him as he anxiously awaited the first rays of morning light.

At dawn, while gathering firewood, Sulaiman mustered the courage to cautiously ask: "With whom were you sharing conversation last night, guest of the Most Merciful?" The stranger turned with a dead, expressionless stare, his voice sending a violent chill down Sulaiman's spine: "Prepare yourself, host... More guests will arrive at your tent tonight. I shall take my leave now to wander these dunes, but do not forget our incoming visitors—gather plenty of firewood, my generous host."

Chapter 5: The Coffee Pot and the Monstrous Metamorphosis

The day dragged heavily upon Sulaiman as he grazed his herd, scanning the crests of the high dunes in hopes of spotting another human camp, yet the desert remained deathly silent and barren. As dusk approached, he led his livestock back, only to find the stranger already waiting inside his tent. Sulaiman offered a greeting, to which the stranger replied coldly: "Your firewood is scarce, host... Come, kindle the fire; dusk has fallen and the sun is gone." Sulaiman asked, trembling: "Who are these guests you await?" The stranger snapped back with visible irritation at the rising flames, drawing uncomfortably close to the fire: "Ask no questions... Prepare the coffee and be ready to welcome them. And beware—do not add cloves; my guests and I prefer pure cardamom alone. Understood?"

Sulaiman's hands shook violently as he roasted the coffee beans in the pan while darkness shrouded the desert. In a moment of sheer panic, he stole a glance at the stranger's face, witnessing a monstrous transformation under the firelight. The stranger had stretched his bare feet directly beside the burning coals, completely indifferent to the scorching heat, muttering: "Tonight marks the depth of winter's frost..." Slowly, his lips peeled back to reveal two long, gleaming fangs protruding from his jaw. The whites of his eyes flushed into a burning, ember-red hue, with vertical black slits down the center like those of a reptile.

Chapter 6: The Arrival of the Unearthly Guests

Before Sulaiman could process the sheer horror of what he was witnessing, heavy, rhythmic footsteps echoed from the surrounding pitch-black darkness. At first, the sound felt strangely familiar, as if belonging to kin he knew well, yet all hope vanished the instant three men stepped into the firelight.

The revelation hit him like a violent blow: all three faces were exact carbon copies of the first guest! The same facial features, the same hidden fangs, and the same reptilian eyes blinking in uncanny unison. Four identical entities now sat surrounding his campfire!

One of them turned toward Sulaiman, demanding in an authoritative tone: "Hurry with the coffee, host... We have no time to lose; a long journey and an important meeting await us." Saliva dried in Sulaiman's throat as he gasped out a faint whisper: "To where? What meeting?" All four cracked a synchronized, chilling smile, revealing their full rows of fangs. The first guest declared: "You shall come with us and learn everything in due time... Pour the coffee!"

 Sulaiman's limbs froze completely. In that harrowing moment, he realized he was not standing before human beings, but an entirely different species... and his journey into the unknown had officially begun.

(End of Episode One)

Where will the guests lead Sulaiman? And what subterranean cave awaits him beneath the shifting sands? Find out in Episode Two.