The events of Uncle Shom Part 1 truly began on a Tuesday. It was the school holidays, a humid December when the air felt thick as soup and the sky wept sudden, violent rains every afternoon. I was ten years old. My cousin Din was eleven, and my best friend, Aisha, was nine.
We called ourselves the Lorong Gatal Trio. Our mission that holiday: find out what Uncle Shom kept in his back shed.
The rumor had started a week earlier. Pak Mat, the goat herder who lived two streets over, had lost three goats in a single night. Not stolen—goats are noisy, and no one had heard a truck. Not eaten by a wild animal—there are no tigers in suburban Malaysia. The goats had simply... vanished. Their pen was untouched. The gate was still latched. But the animals were gone, leaving behind only a faint smell of burnt camphor and damp earth.
“It’s Shom,” Pak Mat had spat at the kedai kopi. “That old freak is up to his old tricks.”
No one argued. Not out of agreement, but out of fear. In Kampong Baharu, you did not slander Uncle Shom out loud. You whispered. You speculated. You sent your children inside before dusk.
And that, of course, is exactly why we had to investigate.
| Trait | Detail | |-------|--------| | Real name | Shomari K. Vance | | Former job | “Logistics consultant” (cleaner / negotiator / leg-breaker) | | Current job | Night security at a shuttered fish-packing plant (he doesn’t actually go) | | Weakness | Can’t say no to family. Bad knees. Pride the size of a city bus. | | Weapon of choice | A rusty tire iron named “Loretta” | | Motto | “Don’t start none, won’t be none — but if it starts, you finish it.” |
Dez (19, hoodie, shaking) bursts in. He carries a dented metal briefcase — warm to the touch.
DEZ: “They said if I open it, my fingers come off. So… don’t open it.”
Shom takes one sniff.
SHOM: “That’s not a bomb. That’s radioactive — the bad kind. Who’d you steal from?”
A representative scene: Shom returns after a long absence; neighbors watch from thresholds. The scene’s tension arises from silence, selective greetings, and a single ambiguous remark from Shom. The author stages the moment with tight sensory detail—the creak of a gate, the smell of dust—then lets characters’ reticence reveal social consequence. The emotional core is not confrontation but the space between people: what is withheld and how that withholding reshapes relationships.
Every family has a legend. Someone spoken of in hushed tones at reunions, whose name is a key that unlocks a forgotten closet of secrets. In my family, that person was Uncle Shom. Uncle Shom Part 1
To the outside world, he was a quiet postal worker who lived alone in a creaking Victorian house on the edge of town. But to my cousins and me, Uncle Shom was the embodiment of mystery. This is the first part of his story—the strange arrival, the impossible clock, and the night the red door finally opened.
The letter arrived on a Tuesday, tucked between a pizza flyer and a final notice for the electricity bill. It was heavy, yellowed parchment, sealed with a blob of red wax that smelled faintly of cinnamon and ash.
To Jonah, it read in a jagged, frantic script. They are waking up. I cannot hold the door any longer. Come home. — Uncle Shom.
Jonah stared at the name. He hadn’t thought about Uncle Shom in fifteen years. In Jonah’s memory, Shom was a blur of pipe smoke, eccentricity, and stories that didn't make sense—stories about whispering wells and shadows that moved on their own. When Jonah was twelve, his parents had pulled him away from Shom’s estate in the dead of night, promising never to return. They never spoke of him again.
Now, at twenty-seven, with a dead-end job and an apartment that felt more like a cage, the idea of "home" felt foreign. But the smell of that wax triggered something—a pull he couldn't resist.
The house on Harrow Hill looked exactly as Jonah remembered: a sprawling, three-story beast of stone and dark wood, seemingly growing out of the landscape itself. The windows were dark, watching him like hollow eyes. The air around the property was unnaturally still. No birds sang. The wind didn't blow.
Jonah’s boots crunched on the gravel driveway as he stepped out of his rusted sedan. He half-expected the door to be locked, but when he touched the iron handle, it swung inward with a silent, heavy glide.
"Uncle Shom?" Jonah called out.
His voice didn't echo. The house seemed to swallow the sound.
The foyer was a museum of the strange. Shelves lined the walls, cluttered with jars containing things Jonah didn't want to look at too closely. Dust motes danced in the single beam of sunlight piercing through the heavy curtains.
"In here, boy," a voice rasped.
It came from the library. Jonah moved toward the heavy oak doors. He pushed them open. The events of Uncle Shom Part 1 truly began on a Tuesday
The library was massive, two stories high, filled with thousands of books. In the center of the room, in a high-backed velvet chair, sat Uncle Shom.
He looked older than time itself. His skin was the texture of crumpled paper, stretched tight over sharp cheekbones. His hair was a wild shock of white. But his eyes—his eyes were the same. One was a piercing, electric blue. The other was clouded over, milky white, constantly darting around the room as if tracking something invisible.
"You came," Shom said, his voice like dry leaves skittering over pavement. He didn't stand. He gripped the arms of his chair with trembling hands. "I wasn't sure the letter would find you in time. The postman... well, he doesn't like coming up the hill anymore."
"I got your letter," Jonah said, stepping closer. "You said 'they are waking up.' Who is 'they'? And why call me now?"
Shom chuckled, a wet, rattling sound. He gestured vaguely to the walls. "Do you know why your parents
Uncle Shom Part 1 " is an adult comic book released by the publisher Kirtu in September 2012. It is part of a series centered on themes of grief, boundaries, and taboo relationships. Review Summary
The story follows Sunita, a young woman who visits her childhood friend, Deepa, to console Deepa's father, Uncle Shom, who has fallen into a deep depression following the death of his wife.
Plot & Themes: Sunita views Shom as a father figure but soon finds herself in increasingly intimate situations. The narrative revolves around a moral dilemma: whether Sunita should cross ethical lines to provide "simple pleasures" that might pull Shom out of his depression, or maintain traditional boundaries.
Art & Production: The comic features art by Ilsh Valinur and scripting by DarkMark. Like other Kirtu titles (such as the Savita Bhabhi series), it is known for its explicit adult content and exploration of controversial sexual dynamics.
Critical Reception: On platforms like Goodreads, the series holds a modest rating (approximately 2.5/5), often critiqued for its specialized niche and controversial premise.
Note: This title contains explicit adult material and is intended for mature audiences only.
Books by Ilsh Valinur (Author of Uncle Shom Part 2) - Goodreads Dez (19, hoodie, shaking) bursts in
Uncle Shom Part 1 is an adult-oriented digital comic published by
in September 2012. It was scripted by DarkMark and illustrated by artist Ilsh Valinur. Story Overview
The plot follows Sunita, a young woman visiting her childhood friend, Deepa. During the visit, Sunita notices that Deepa's father, Uncle Shom
, is deeply depressed following the death of his wife. Motivated by a desire to console him—someone she has always viewed as a father figure—Sunita commits herself to helping the family through their mourning. Key Plot Points The Conflict:
The story shifts when Sunita accidentally witnesses Uncle Shom in a private moment. Later, while she is helping care for him by giving him a bath, an awkward sexual tension arises. The Dilemma:
Sunita faces a moral crossroads: should she provide Shom with "simple pleasures" to alleviate his grief, or is the nature of their interaction too transgressive to continue? The Stakes:
A central tension of the narrative is whether Sunita can maintain this secret relationship without her best friend, Deepa, discovering what is happening between her father and her friend. Technical Details Publisher: Release Date: September 7, 2012 Digital Ebook/Comic Creative Team: DarkMark (Script), Ilsh Valinur (Art) collection?
To understand the legend, you must first understand the man. Uncle Shom was short, barely five feet tall, with knuckles like walnuts and eyes that seemed to look through you rather than at you. He wore the same uniform every day: a faded sarung of indeterminate green, a singlet yellowed at the armpits, and a songkok so old it had begun to dissolve at the edges.
He spoke rarely, and when he did, his voice was like stones grinding together.
“Jangan main dekat longkang selepas Maghrib,” he once grumbled at me. Don't play near the drain after dusk.
I was seven. I laughed and ran off to prove him wrong. Two hours later, I fell into that very drain, cutting my foot on a shard of broken glass. When my mother asked what happened, I didn’t mention Uncle Shom. But I never played near that drain after dark again.
The adults tolerated him. My father called him “a little strange, but harmless.” The village headman, Pak Hassan, said Uncle Shom had once been a bomoh—a traditional healer and shaman—but had “lost his touch” after an incident in the 1980s. No one ever explained what that incident was. They only glanced at each other, nodded slowly, and changed the subject.