In a worn-out apartment complex shaped by heat, work, small humiliations, and the eyes of neighbors, an old tree begins to offer something no one can easily refuse: relief.

Its shade feels cooler. Bodies loosen. A difficult child wakes lighter. An exhausted mother gets a few minutes of peace. A man crushed by routine finds, near the root breaking through the concrete, a kind of rest that seems to know exactly where he hurts.

At first, no one wants to call it a threat. How do you fight something that makes life better? How do you mistrust a peace that reaches the body before the mind can explain it?

But the roots do not stay in the courtyard. They move through concrete, homes, schoolrooms, memory, and flesh. The apartment complex begins to breathe as one, and every act of care starts to carry a deeper question: how much pain, name, and separation can a person lose before they stop being themselves?

ROOT OF FLESH is a work of literary and ecological body horror about a community seduced by real improvement. An urban weird fiction novel where fear does not begin with an attack, but with the intimate desire to give in.