V

When V woke up in pain in a small hut's rusty cot and realized the iron piece stuck in his right leg, the time between regaining consciousness and trying to get up and walk towards the door while holding onto the crumbling wall had erased his mind. Despite trying to examine his surroundings and figure out how he ended up in the hut, he was still losing blood from the iron piece stuck in his leg, which was making his mind foggy. He started to examine his surroundings... Other than a dirty bed in the room where he could smell the urine odor, there was nothing else in the room with the old rusty cot. Some clean air was coming in through the broken glass of the small window with an iron frame. It was clear that it was an unused place. He looked at his leg, the wound was deep. Struggling, he straightened up and limped towards the door using his other leg. He noticed the arm he held to open the door was locked. Despite his several attempts, he was exhausted from the weakness of his body. He sat down next to the door, trying to scream on one side, and to wrap the wound on his leg with a torn piece from his shirt on the other side. The only thing he remembered was leaving his small shack in the mountain where he had been living for eight years a few hours ago to get supplies, buying his monthly rations from the grocery store on the way back. What could have happened to him that he couldn't remember. Yelling and forcing the door in the two-square-meter small hut was only making the iron piece stuck in his leg more painful. He realized he was alone. He struggled to stand up and reached for the tap on the wall across the cot. Rusty water was flowing from the tap. After waiting for a while, he brought his mouth to the tap and took a few sips of water. When he raised his head, he noticed a note written on the mirror and an old cell phone underneath. He was having difficulty seeing due to exhaustion and struggled to read the note.

- You have an hour for the answer and only one call

V picked up the phone, squatting back on the floor, at the door's threshold. He struggled to stand. Looking at the mirror, he repeated the writing to himself a few times...

He took the phone; there was only one number saved in the contacts.

V hesitated for a while... His pain could increase, he could faint, or even die. That's why he wanted to call 911. They could locate him from the call, save his life, or he could call the number to find the answer to the biggest mystery of his life, which was equivalent to living alone in death for years.