In the quiet seaside village of Kurentse, nestled between the Baltic dunes and pine groves, everyone knew the old fisherman named Yaromir. He wasn’t a hermit or a lunatic — just a man apart. He lived alone in a small house built by his grandfather, close enough to the sea that waves could be heard inside during storms. People said Yaromir could “speak” with the ocean. He would set out in rough weather when others stayed ashore — and return with enough fish for the entire village.

He had no wife, no children, never drank, rarely spoke — and because of that, locals called him The Silent Lighthouse. He was constant. A figure hunched over the tiller of his battered boat, cloak pulled over his face, vanishing into the mists at dawn and returning in twilight — always alone, always the same.

Until one day in late October 2017… when he didn’t return.

At first, no one panicked. Yaromir often disappeared for a day or two during seasonal migrations of mullet. But by the third day, concern turned to alarm. His cousin — a man who barely showed his face in public — reported his absence to the coast guard. Search teams were deployed.

They combed the shoreline, questioned fishermen, and checked satellite scans. Nothing. No debris, no wreckage, not even a signal flare. His home was untouched: warm food in the pot, ticking clock on the wall, a lamp still glowing in the corner. It looked as though he had simply… vanished.

Two years passed. The story of Yaromir became local folklore, and his disappearance — a dark charm. Elders whispered that the sea had claimed him because he «knew too much.» Teenagers told stories around campfires, saying he’d merged with the tide — a guardian spirit of the shore.

Then, in September 2019, something was found that shattered every theory.

A group of mushroom pickers stumbled upon a boat. Not just any boat — his boat.

Sitting in the middle of the forest. Seventeen kilometers from the coast.

Completely intact, moss-covered, but unmistakable. Inside: his old jacket, a thermos with dried-up coffee… and a journal.

The journal was hidden under the seat padding. The handwriting, though jagged, was clearly his. The final entry was dated the same October night he disappeared:

«The wind pulls not toward the sea, but inward. The wave strikes not the hull, but the air itself. I hear grinding in the trees — this is no forest, but some alien harbor. If I do not return — guard the silence. It knows more than I ever could.»

Authorities reopened the case, but instead of answers, more questions surfaced. How had the boat ended up in the woods, unbroken and unmarked? There were no tracks, no drag marks, and no tire impressions. Hauling a boat that size through dense forest was virtually impossible without a vehicle — yet no evidence of one existed.

Some suggested a prank. But who would go to such lengths to haul an entire fishing boat into the woods and leave it perfectly intact?

Months later, villagers started noticing strange phenomena. Fishermen heard rhythmic knocking sounds while at sea — as if someone was striking wood below the waves. A few swore they saw a boat-shaped shadow drifting against the wind, just beyond the surf. When the town council tried to resume the investigation, documents vanished. The local officer assigned to Yaromir’s case abruptly resigned and left town without a word.

That’s when an unsettling theory took hold: somewhere deep in those woods, or beneath the coastline, space might be… wrong. Distorted. A loop. Not another dimension exactly — but something else. Something that pulled Yaromir out of our world and then deposited only fragments of his presence back.

Today, his home stands silent. But the lamp in the corner still flickers at night. Electricians have inspected the circuits multiple times — all wires disconnected. And yet, the bulb continues to glow. If you listen closely during a storm, you may hear faint knocking behind the crash of waves. Steady, like a heartbeat. Like someone still searching for their way home.

Locals no longer speak of Yaromir. But if you press the old fishermen hard enough, they’ll simply say:

“He didn’t vanish. He became part of the sea. And of the forest, too. Watch your step when you go gathering mushrooms.”