No one knows where it came from. It's spoken of in whispers around campfires, and warned against before bedtime. People avoid dark paths because of it. Its name is Okomut.
Those who survived describe it as a distorted likeness of a human: small, unnaturally thin, with skin like cracked wax. But the most terrifying thing is that it has no face. Only a smooth, empty mask where its eyes, mouth, and nose should be.
And its eyes are in its palms. Two black, bottomless pupils that see right through you. Not your appearance, but your soul. Not your words, but the truth hidden behind them.
Okomut doesn't kill outright; it asks questions first. It asks about what you're afraid to admit even to yourself: about old betrayals, about secret hatreds, about deeds you try to forget.
And if you sincerely lay bare your filth and repent, Okomut simply vanishes. As if it never existed. But if you lie, then... disappear.
Where do liars disappear to? No one knows for sure. But some say Okomut takes them to a world woven from their own nightmares. A world where fears take on flesh, where lies become torture, and sins become traps.
Some believe this is just a horror story, teaching children not to lie. But sometimes travelers find abandoned clothes and hear muffled screams in the fog.