
I. PROLOGUE: THE COST OF COLD CASH
The story of Benji, Reya, and Anton is a dark reflection of the “OFW Dream.” Benji was a laborer in South Korea, spending his days scrubbing industrial toilets and hauling heavy sacks of cement in the freezing winters of Seoul. Every Won he earned was sent home to Cavite to build a “fortress of love” for his wife, Reya.
The house in Cavite was a symbol of his success. It was tiled with high-grade marble, the curtains smelled of luxury fabric conditioner, and the air-conditioning ran 24/7. But inside this fortress, the love had rotted. Reya had found a new “partner”—Anton, a man significantly younger and decidedly lazier than Benji. Anton didn’t work; he simply lived off the “extra allowance” Benji sent, even using a duplicate key to enter and leave the house as if he were the master of the estate.
On July 12, the heat in Cavite was oppressive, but inside Benji’s house, it was Alaskan cold. Reya and Anton were lounging on the sofa, watching the news and laughing about how “lucky” Reya was to have such a trusting husband. They viewed Benji not as a person, but as an ATM—a distant, faceless provider who was “too busy working” to suspect a thing.
II. THE UNBOXING OF A NIGHTMARE
The arrival of a Balikbayan box is usually a moment of joy for Filipino families. When the delivery truck from South Korea pulled up that afternoon, Reya and Anton were ecstatic. They expected the usual “pasalubong”—perfumes, rubber shoes, and chocolates.
“Maybe there are gadgets inside,” Anton joked, grabbing a box cutter. He was excited about the new shoes Reya had promised him, sized specifically for him using Benji’s money. They were like children on Christmas morning, unaware that this box was not sent by Santa Claus, but by a man consumed by a cold, calculated rage.
As they tore through the tape and the bubble wrap, the first layer was innocent: Ferrero Rocher chocolates, cans of Spam, and corned beef. But as Anton reached into the center of the box, his hand hit something cold and heavy. It was a survival kn*fe in a black sheath. It was long, serrated, and razor-sharp.
The mood in the room shifted instantly. Why would a man who doesn’t camp send a hunting kn*fe? Hidden beneath the kn*fe was a piece of scratch paper. No card. No envelope. Just a jagged note written in Benji’s handwriting—a script that looked frantic, dark, and filled with hate.
III. THE MESSAGE FROM THE ABYSS
Reya read the note aloud, her voice trembling more with every word:
“Every night, I see the both of you in my dreams. You used my sweat and my sacrifice. You even sold the ring I bought for you. This kn*fe was bought with my last paycheck before I left. It is not for cooking or for fish. It is so you know that I know. I will never return until I see the bl00d of one of you. I am always around. I am in every corner of the house I built. Look at the kn*fe and decide who jumps into the grave first.”
The chocolates on the table suddenly lost their sweetness. The air-conditioning felt like a tomb. Reya’s first instinct was denial—Benji was in Korea, how could he know? But Anton, who was more perceptive, realized the weight of the word “dreams.” Benji wasn’t dreaming; he was watching.
IV. THE DIGITAL TRAP
Panic-stricken, the lovers began a frantic search of the house. They checked the light fixtures, the electrical outlets, and the vents for hidden cameras. They found nothing. “How did he know about the ring?” Reya whispered. She had pawned her diamond wedding ring to pay for Anton’s gambling debts, telling Benji it was stolen during a beach trip. Only she and Anton knew the truth.
The search eventually led them to an old laptop in the storage room—a Christmas gift Benji had given Reya years ago, now covered in dust. When they booted it up, they found a single folder labeled “Expenses.” Inside was not a spreadsheet, but a low-resolution video file from the previous month. It was a CCTV feed of their front gate. It showed Anton arriving at 11:00 PM, using his duplicate key, and entering the house with a sense of ownership.
Reya looked out the window at the house of their neighbor, Aling Celia. She saw a small, black device perched on the neighbor’s wall. They stormed outside and confronted the old woman, accusing her of being a spy. Aling Celia’s response was a revelation of Benji’s foresight: “He asked me to install that months ago before he left. He said it was a signal booster for the internet and that I could use it too. I didn’t know it was a camera.”
V. THE REVELATION: BETRAYAL WITHIN BETRAYAL
They scanned a QR code on the “booster” which redirected them to a cloud storage login. Anton guessed the password: “MARIFEISFAKE” (the name of Benji’s ex who had also cheated on him). The files inside were the final blow. There was a high-definition video taken from inside a local pawnshop. The video showed Anton—wearing a polo shirt Reya had bought him—pawning the diamond wedding ring.
Reya’s fear of Benji turned into a white-hot rage toward Anton. “You told me it was stolen!” she screamed. “I felt guilty for months, thinking I lost it, and all the while you were the one who took it? You’re a leech! You used me!” Anton’s demeanor changed instantly. The “charming” lover disappeared, replaced by a desperate, cornered animal. “If I go down, you’re coming with me,” he hissed. “I still have the videos of what we do in this house. You think you can just kick me out?”
VI. THE FINAL UNBOXING
As a storm began to brew outside, mirroring the violence inside the house, the two lovers turned on each other. Anton attacked Reya, trying to grab her phone to delete the cloud files. He pushed her to the floor, his face twisted in a mask of aggression. “I’ll break your face!” he roared.
Reya, sprawled on the floor next to the still-open Balikbayan box, saw the survival kn*fe glinting in the light. Benji’s words echoed in her head: Decide who jumps into the grave first. As Anton lunged at her, Reya grabbed the kn*fe and drove it deep into his abdomen.
The silence that followed was de@fening. Anton looked down at the handle of the kn*fe—the only part still visible—and then at his bl00d-soaked polo shirt. He collapsed among the imported goods and chocolates that were never meant for him. He died on the floor of the house Benji had built.
VII. THE COLD ANNIVERSARY
As Reya sat in a trance next to Anton’s cooling body, her phone lit up. It was a message from South Korea.
“Reya, I dreamed of you both again tonight. But now, you are alone. Thank you for accepting my gift. Happy Anniversary.”
Benji didn’t need to commit the m*rder himself. He understood the psychology of his victims. He knew that by revealing the secret theft of the ring, he would shatter the fragile alliance between the two lovers. He provided the weapon, the evidence, and the pressure, and waited for the explosion.
The Balikbayan box, a symbol of OFW hope, had become a coffin. The house, a symbol of success, had become a crime scene. Benji remained in South Korea, a free man who had exacted his revenge without ever crossing an ocean.
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