Chapter 1: Red Roses
Chapter Text
Lee Sohee pushed open the door to his lavish home, the soft glow of recessed lighting casting a warm hue across the pristine marble floors. The sleek, modern interior was a stark contrast to the dingy part-time job he had just returned from. But none of that mattered now. His phone buzzed incessantly in his pocket, a sign that his latest video was gaining traction. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he glanced at the screen. The views were skyrocketing, and with them, the comments. Some praised him, others were disgusted, but all were paying attention.
"Nature's law," he muttered to himself, justifying the cruelty captured in the video. "Survival of the fittest."
As if on cue, his phone buzzed again. This time, it was a message from Eunseok.
Eunseok: "Hey, let me crash at your place tonight. It’s getting late."
Sohee’s fingers hesitated over the keyboard before he began typing his response.
Sohee: "No, Eunseok. You’ve done your part. I don’t need you hanging around."
There was a long pause before Eunseok’s reply came through.
Eunseok: "I thought we had something, Sohee. Was I just a tool to you?"
Sohee sighed, feeling a twinge of guilt, but it quickly dissipated.
Sohee: "You were useful. You’re good with tech, that’s all I needed."
The response was blunt, cold, but Sohee didn’t care. He tossed his phone onto the kitchen counter, ignoring the subsequent notifications from Eunseok. He knew the other boy was hurt, but emotional attachment had never been part of the plan.
Moving through the spacious living room, Sohee headed toward the master bathroom. The thought of soaking in his hot tub was enticing after a long day. He began to undress, peeling off his clothes and tossing them aside without a second thought. The warm steam from the tub beckoned him, promising relaxation.
Just as he was about to step into the water, his phone buzzed again. Annoyed, he walked back to check it, expecting another plea from Eunseok. Instead, what he saw made him freeze.
Anonymous: "Nice house. But it’s even nicer from the inside, don’t you think?"
Sohee frowned, glancing around the room. His eyes scanned the windows, but everything seemed in order. He quickly dismissed it as a prank, probably Eunseok trying to get back at him.
Anonymous: "I can hear you, Sohee. Every move you make."
The message was followed by a short video. The screen lit up with a grainy, Snapchat-esque clip of Sohee himself, standing by the hot tub, just as he was now. His heart began to race. Whoever this was, they were close. Too close. But Sohee forced himself to stay calm.
Sohee: "Nice try, Eunseok. But you’re not scaring me."
A moment later, another video came through, this one a little clearer. It was a close-up of Sohee’s face, his expression one of irritation and growing unease. The angle was odd, almost as if the camera was right in front of him, yet there was no one there.
Anonymous: "You should be more careful who you trust, Sohee. Not everyone is as easy to use as Eunseok."
Sohee’s breath hitched. He scanned the room again, more thoroughly this time, but found nothing. The realization hit him—whoever this was, they weren’t just outside. They were inside his house.
For the first time that evening, a sense of fear began to creep into Sohee’s mind. His fingers hovered over his phone, unsure of what to do next. Should he call the police? Was this all just a sick joke?
Before he could make a decision, another message arrived.
Anonymous: "Don't worry, Sohee. We’re just getting started."
His blood ran cold as he realized that this wasn’t a game. The walls of his perfect, meticulously curated life were closing in, and whoever was behind this was watching his every move.
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Sohee smirked as he slipped into the hot tub, the warm water enveloping his body as he settled in, wearing nothing but a pair of black underwear. The sensation was soothing, a sharp contrast to the cold tension that had begun to coil in the pit of his stomach from the messages he’d received. But Sohee wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. If this anonymous texter wanted to play games, he’d toy with them right back.
"You’ve got my attention," he typed, his fingers dancing over the screen with a confidence that belied the unease gnawing at him. "Let’s see how far you can take this."
He waited, the steam rising around him, his heartbeat a steady thrum in his chest. His phone buzzed again.
Anonymous: "Careful what you wish for, Sohee. I’m already much closer than you think."
Sohee rolled his eyes, feigning nonchalance as he leaned back, letting his head rest against the edge of the tub. The thrill of the unknown was intoxicating, blurring the line between fear and excitement. He was still toying with the idea that this could be some elaborate prank orchestrated by Eunseok, a final attempt to get under his skin.
But before he could type another teasing reply, a loud thud disrupted the quiet night. Startled, Sohee glanced around, his eyes narrowing as they settled on the surface of the water. Floating there, bobbing gently with the ripples, was something dark and unmistakable.
His breath caught in his throat as recognition dawned—Eunseok's severed head. The once familiar face was now contorted in a grotesque expression, eyes wide open, staring lifelessly back at him.
A scream tore from Sohee’s lips, pure terror gripping him as he scrambled out of the hot tub, water splashing wildly around him. His phone slipped from his grasp, nearly falling into the water as he bolted toward the backyard. Panic consumed him, his mind racing as he fumbled to summon Siri.
"Siri, call 911!", he shouted, his voice shaking with desperation.
But his wet fingers were useless on the touch screen, and the voice command wasn’t working fast enough. Every second felt like an eternity as he realized he couldn’t bypass the passcode with his soaked hands.
"No, no, no… please!", he cried, his voice rising as he dropped the phone in his haste, the device landing with a soft thud on the grass.
He looked around frantically, trying to find another way to safety. The patio doors loomed in the distance, and Sohee ran towards them, only to find them all locked, the glass reflecting his terrified expression back at him.
Before he could decide his next move, a cold dread washed over him. He felt it before he saw it—the presence of someone behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he slowly turned, his blood running cold.
There, standing in the shadows, was the figure of a masked maniac, holding a hunting knife that gleamed menacingly in the moonlight. The killer moved with eerie calm, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. Sohee tried to run, but the maniac was faster.
With a swift, brutal motion, the killer slashed Sohee’s back horizontally. A sharp, searing pain shot through him, and he stumbled forward, clutching at the wound as blood poured down his back. His vision blurred as he fell to the ground, collapsing onto the patio before rolling onto the grass.
Gasping for breath, Sohee tried to crawl away, each movement sending waves of agony through his body. But it was no use. The masked maniac grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him up with terrifying ease, dragging him toward the edge of the swimming pool.
"Please… please don’t do this," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to speak through the pain. "I’ll do anything… just don’t kill me!"
But his pleas fell on deaf ears. The masked figure offered no words, only a cold, unfeeling gaze behind the mask. With a swift motion, the maniac sliced Sohee’s throat open, the blade cutting deep and true.
Sohee’s eyes widened in shock, his hands instinctively flying to his neck as blood gushed out, choking him. He gurgled, trying to breathe, but the air refused to come. The world around him began to fade, the edges of his vision darkening as his strength ebbed away.
The masked figure released him, letting Sohee’s body fall limply into the swimming pool. He hit the water with a soft splash, his limbs flailing weakly before the darkness took him. The warm water that had once promised comfort now embraced him in death, turning crimson as it mingled with his blood.
Sohee’s body floated face down, motionless, as the killer turned and disappeared into the night, leaving nothing but silence in their wake.
As the quiet morning air was shattered by a piercing scream. In the upscale neighborhood where Lee Sohee lived, his parents had just returned home from an overnight trip. His mother had been the first to step into the backyard, expecting to find her son still asleep or perhaps lounging by the pool.
What she found instead was a scene of unimaginable horror. There, floating face down in the water, was Sohee’s lifeless body, the pool stained red with his blood.
Her scream echoed through the neighborhood, a sound of pure, unadulterated grief and terror. She collapsed to her knees, her hands trembling as she reached out toward her son, but it was too late. The vibrant, confident boy she had known was gone, leaving only a gruesome reminder of the life that had been brutally taken from him.
Sohee’s father rushed out, drawn by his wife’s cries, only to be struck by the same sickening realization. The serene morning in Lakewood had turned into a nightmare, one that would haunt the town for a long time to come.
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The morning sun filtered through the curtains of Choi Yeonjun’s bedroom, casting a warm glow over the desk where he sat with his boyfriend, Park Gunwook. The two were immersed in their study session, textbooks and notebooks spread out between them. Gunwook tapped his pen against his chin, deep in thought as he tried to work through a particularly tricky math problem.
Yeonjun glanced over at him, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re overthinking it, babe. Just break it down step by step.”
Gunwook sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Easy for you to say. You’re a natural at this.”
Yeonjun chuckled, reaching over to give Gunwook’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll get it. We’ve still got time before breakfast. Let’s go over it one more time.”
As they worked through the problem together, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. A moment later, the door swung open, and Yeonjun’s mother, Tiffany, appeared in the doorway. She was dressed in her work clothes, a crisp white blouse and slacks, her ID badge clipped to her pocket. Despite the serious nature of her job as the town’s coroner, she always had a warm, approachable smile for her son.
“Good morning, boys,” Tiffany greeted them, her tone light as she entered the room. “You two ready for breakfast?”
Yeonjun nodded, closing his textbook with a satisfied thud. “Yeah, just finishing up here. What’s on the menu?”
“Pancakes, your favorite,” Tiffany replied with a wink. She turned to leave, but Yeonjun’s voice stopped her.
“Hey, Mom,” he called out, a teasing glint in his eye. “Any updates on Sheriff Choi? I hear you two have been spending a lot of time together lately.”
Tiffany rolled her eyes, though a faint blush colored her cheeks. “Yeonjun, you know it’s not like that. We’re just colleagues.”
“Sure, sure,” Yeonjun teased, exchanging a playful look with Gunwook. “But don’t think I haven’t noticed how you smile a little more when his name comes up.”
Tiffany shook her head with a laugh, waving off her son’s teasing as she headed back toward the kitchen. “You’re imagining things, Yeonjun. Now, come eat before your food gets cold.”
As she left, Gunwook leaned closer to Yeonjun, his voice low. “Do you think something’s really going on between them?”
Yeonjun shrugged, a mischievous grin still on his face. “Who knows? But it’s fun to tease her about it.”
A short while later, they were seated around the breakfast table, the scent of freshly made pancakes filling the air. Conversation flowed easily as they ate, with Tiffany occasionally glancing at her phone, already anticipating another busy day at work.
Across town at George Washington High School, Choi Beomgyu slumped against a locker, his expression a mix of frustration and embarrassment. His friend Myung Jaehyun stood beside him, sympathy etched on his face.
“Man, that video… I can’t believe it’s still spreading,” Beomgyu muttered, his fingers drumming nervously against his leg. “This is a nightmare.”
Jaehyun nodded, leaning in closer so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard. “I know, it’s rough. But people will move on eventually. Just gotta ride it out.”
“Easy for you to say,” Beomgyu replied with a grimace. “You’re not the one plastered all over the internet.”
Jaehyun opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a group of students walked by, whispering and casting sideways glances at Beomgyu. He stiffened, his fists clenching at his sides as the whispers grew louder. It felt like the whole school was talking about him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
In a nearby classroom, Yeonjun and Gunwook sat with their friends Kim Sunoo, Park Sunghoon, and Kim Woonhak, the group huddled together as they discussed the latest gossip.
“Did you guys see the video everyone’s talking about?” Sunoo asked, his voice hushed as he leaned in closer. “The one with Beomgyu?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty brutal,” Woonhak chimed in, shaking his head. “Can’t believe someone would do that to him.”
Sunghoon frowned, his gaze drifting toward the door where Beomgyu had just passed by. “It’s messed up. I mean, sure, Beomgyu can be a jerk sometimes, but this is taking it too far.”
Yeonjun nodded in agreement, his expression serious. “Whoever posted that video must have a serious grudge against him. But still, I feel bad for the guy. No one deserves that kind of humiliation.”
Gunwook glanced around the room, his eyes landing on a new face. “Speaking of new things, have you guys noticed the new transfer student? Choi Soobin, right?”
They all turned to see Soobin, who had just walked in, quietly taking a seat at the back of the room. He was tall and slender, with an air of quiet confidence about him. His presence seemed to draw attention, even as he kept to himself.
“Yeah, he just moved here,” Sunoo said, following their gaze. “I heard his family’s from the city. Must be weird for him, coming to a small town like Lakewood.”
“Maybe he’ll bring some excitement to this place,” Sunghoon mused with a grin. “God knows we need it.”
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The sun was barely up when word of Lee Sohee’s murder began to ripple through George Washington High School. Whispers spread like wildfire, each one more sensational than the last. Students huddled in small groups, their voices hushed as they speculated about what had happened. Fear hung thick in the air, a palpable tension that everyone could feel.
In the crowded cafeteria, Choi Beomgyu sat with his friends, his usual confident demeanor replaced by a quiet unease. Myung Jaehyun was beside him, his face lit with a strange mix of excitement and seriousness as he spoke.
“So, have you guys heard the latest rumor?” Jaehyun asked, leaning forward conspiratorially.
Yeonjun, who had just joined the group with Gunwook by his side, raised an eyebrow. “About Sohee’s murder? Everyone’s talking about it.”
“Yeah, but this is different,” Jaehyun said, his voice lowering as he glanced around to make sure no one else was listening. “Some people are saying that Brandon James is back.”
At the mention of the name, the others exchanged uneasy glances. The story of Brandon James was a ghost story every kid in Lakewood had grown up hearing, but few believed it was anything more than that—a story.
“Brandon James?” Sunghoon echoed, skeptical. “You mean that old urban legend? Come on, Jaehyun. We’re not kids anymore.”
Jaehyun’s expression didn’t waver. “It’s not just a legend, Sunghoon. Brandon James was real, and what happened to him was real too. Twenty years ago, he was a teenager right here in Lakewood. He had this condition called Proteus syndrome, which made him look… different.”
Beomgyu nodded, intrigued despite his initial doubt. “I’ve heard about that. It’s a pretty rare disorder, right?”
“Yeah,” Jaehyun confirmed, his tone serious. “Brandon had a hard life because of it. But he wasn’t a bad guy. He was just different. He had an older brother, Troy, who was super protective of him. Troy was probably the only person who really understood Brandon.”
Yeonjun listened intently, a strange feeling settling in the pit of his stomach as Jaehyun continued.
“Brandon fell in love with a girl named Daisy,” Jaehyun said, his voice growing softer as he recounted the story. “She was one of the few people who was kind to him. But when he unmasked himself at the school’s Halloween dance, Daisy got scared. I mean, she didn’t expect to see him like that. And that’s when things went south.”
Jaehyun paused, his gaze distant as if he were imagining the scene in his mind. “A group of jocks—drunk and stupid—decided to take matters into their own hands. They beat Brandon up badly. But they didn’t expect what came next. Brandon snapped. He killed five students that night.”
Gunwook shivered, the gruesome details making his skin crawl. “So, what happened to him?”
“The cops got involved, obviously,” Jaehyun continued. “Daisy—who was the only one Brandon didn’t hurt—agreed to meet him on the pier, hoping to talk him down. But it was a trap. The police were waiting, and when Brandon showed up, they shot him. He fell into the lake and drowned.”
The group fell silent, the weight of the story sinking in. Jaehyun’s words hung in the air, each one a reminder of the darkness that seemed to cling to Lakewood.
“So, you’re saying someone thinks Brandon James is back?” Sunoo asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “But he’s dead, right? How could he possibly be back?”
Jaehyun shrugged, though the gleam in his eyes suggested he was more intrigued than frightened. “I don’t know. But there’s always been talk about how Brandon’s body was never found. Maybe it’s not him, but someone who wants us to think it is. Or maybe it’s just some sick copycat.”
Yeonjun shifted in his seat, trying to shake off the unease that was gnawing at him. Something about the story felt too close to home, too real. As if sensing his discomfort, Jaehyun turned his attention to him.
“Yeonjun, did your mom ever mention anything about Brandon James?” Jaehyun asked casually. “She’s lived here her whole life, right?”
Yeonjun froze, his heart skipping a beat. He’d heard the story of Brandon James before, but he’d never made the connection that his mother, Tiffany, had been involved. She’d always been private about her past, especially about her high school years.
“Uh, not really,” Yeonjun replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “She doesn’t talk about that stuff much.”
“Maybe you should ask her,” Jaehyun suggested. “Who knows, she might know more than she’s let on.”
Yeonjun forced a smile, but inside, his thoughts were racing. Could his mom really be the Daisy from Jaehyun’s story? It seemed impossible, but then again, there were a lot of things his mother kept hidden.
Later that day, after school, Yeonjun walked into the kitchen where his mother was preparing dinner. The house was quiet, a stark contrast to the buzz of rumors that had filled the halls all day. Yeonjun hesitated for a moment before speaking.
“Mom?” he began, his voice carefully casual. “Can I ask you something?”
Tiffany glanced up from chopping vegetables, her smile warm and inviting. “Of course, sweetheart. What’s on your mind?”
Yeonjun swallowed, trying to find the right words. “Do you remember someone named Brandon James?”
For a moment, Tiffany’s hand froze over the cutting board. The knife hovered in the air, and her expression faltered ever so slightly. But she quickly composed herself, setting the knife down and turning to face her son.
“Why do you ask about Brandon James?” she asked, her tone carefully neutral.
“There’s been talk at school,” Yeonjun said, watching her closely. “People are saying that… that he might be back. That he could have something to do with what happened to Sohee.”
Tiffany’s face paled, and she looked away, her hands gripping the edge of the counter. “Brandon James is dead, Yeonjun. Whatever happened to Sohee, it’s not him.”
“But you knew him, didn’t you?” Yeonjun pressed gently.
For a long moment, Tiffany didn’t respond. When she finally looked at Yeonjun, her eyes were filled with a sorrow he had never seen before. “Yes,” she admitted quietly. “But that was a long time ago, Yeonjun. Brandon was… he was a good person who was dealt a bad hand. But he’s gone, and nothing can change that.”
Yeonjun felt a lump form in his throat, a mix of emotions swirling inside him. He had never imagined that his mother had been at the center of such a dark chapter in Lakewood’s history.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
Tiffany shook her head, her expression softening as she reached out to place a hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder. “It’s okay. You have a right to know. But you need to be careful, Yeonjun. There are some things in this town that are better left in the past.”
Yeonjun nodded, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that the past was far from over. And as he looked into his mother’s eyes, he knew that the shadow of Brandon James still lingered over Lakewood, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
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The day after the horrifying discovery of Lee Sohee’s murder, the atmosphere at George Washington High School was thick with unease. Whispers of the crime circulated through every hallway, with students speculating and spreading rumors as they tried to make sense of the tragedy. The most shocking news came when it was announced that Eunseok, Sohee’s close friend, was missing—and the prime suspect in the murder.
Choi Yeonjun and Park Gunwook were sitting together at their usual spot in the cafeteria, their lunch trays untouched as they talked in low voices. Their friends Kim Sunoo, Park Sunghoon, and Kim Woonhak were with them, all wearing expressions of concern and disbelief.
“I can’t believe it,” Sunoo said, shaking his head. “Eunseok? I mean, they were close, right? Why would he do something like that?”
“I don’t know,” Yeonjun replied, frowning as he considered the situation. “But he’s missing, and that doesn’t look good. The cops think he might have had something to do with it.”
Gunwook leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed as he stared at the table. “Maybe he got scared and ran. But that doesn’t mean he did it.”
“Or maybe he’s hiding because he’s guilty,” Woonhak added, his tone grim. “People do crazy things when they’re desperate.”
Sunghoon, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke up, his voice tense. “Or maybe someone’s setting him up. We don’t know the whole story.”
The group fell silent, each of them lost in their own thoughts. The idea that someone they knew—someone they went to school with—could be capable of murder was unsettling. Yeonjun’s mind drifted back to the conversation he’d had with his mother the previous evening, and the chilling story of Brandon James. But he quickly pushed those thoughts aside; there were more immediate concerns to deal with.
After a few moments, Yeonjun turned to Beomgyu, who had been sitting a little apart from the group, clearly feeling out of place. Their friendship had been strained lately, especially after the embarrassing video of Beomgyu had gone viral. But Yeonjun wanted to bridge that gap, especially now, when it seemed like everyone could use some support.
“Hey, Beomgyu,” Yeonjun said, offering him a tentative smile. “I know things have been weird between us, but Sunoo’s throwing a party tonight. It’s kind of like a memorial for Sohee, I guess. You should come. It might be good to get out, be around people.”
Beomgyu looked up, surprised by the invitation. There was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, but also something that looked like hope. “Are you sure? I mean, after everything that happened…”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Yeonjun replied, his voice sincere. “We’re still friends, right? Let’s put all that other stuff behind us.”
Beomgyu hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Thanks, Yeonjun. I appreciate it. I’ll be there.”
As the group wrapped up their conversation and began to disperse, Gunwook and Sunghoon lingered behind, their expressions darkening. They exchanged a tense look, one that spoke of unspoken secrets and unresolved tension.
“Gunwook,” Sunghoon began, his voice low and edged with something like anger. “We need to talk.”
Gunwook’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Yeah, we do.”
The two of them moved to a quieter corner of the cafeteria, away from prying eyes and ears. Sunghoon’s expression was hard, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Gunwook.
“What happened with Sohee,” Sunghoon said, his tone accusatory. “You and I both know it wasn’t just a stupid prank. It went too far.”
Gunwook looked away, his shoulders tense. “I didn’t think it would end like this, okay? We just wanted to teach him a lesson. I didn’t know—”
“You didn’t know it would get him killed?” Sunghoon interrupted, his voice rising. “Because that’s what happened, Gunwook. He’s dead, and now Eunseok is missing. We’re in deep sh*t.”
“I know that!” Gunwook snapped, his eyes flashing with frustration. “But what are we supposed to do now? If we come clean, it’ll ruin us. We’re already suspects.”
Sunghoon took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. “We need to figure out what we’re going to say, how we’re going to handle this. We can’t let anyone find out about what we did, especially not Yeonjun. It would destroy him.”
Gunwook nodded slowly, the weight of their secret pressing heavily on his chest. “Yeah… we need to stick to our story. No one else can know.”
As they left the cafeteria, the tension between them remained, an invisible thread binding them together in their guilt and fear.
Elsewhere in the school, the atmosphere in the Language Arts classroom was far from typical. Jay Park, the young and handsome teacher who had quickly become a favorite among the students, stood at his desk, his face drawn with worry. He was waiting for the last bell to ring, hoping to avoid a confrontation he had been dreading.
Kim Sunoo lingered near the door, his eyes fixed on Jay with a mixture of longing and anger. The classroom was empty, the sounds of students leaving for the day fading into the background.
“You’re avoiding me,” Sunoo said quietly, his voice laced with hurt.
Jay sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at Sunoo. “It’s not that simple, Sunoo. What we’ve been doing… it’s wrong. I’m your teacher, and you’re—”
“Don’t,” Sunoo cut in, his eyes blazing with emotion. “Don’t say it like that. You weren’t saying it was wrong before. What’s changed?”
Jay’s expression softened, but there was a firmness in his tone that hadn’t been there before. “Sunoo, you’re young. You don’t understand the consequences of what we’ve been doing. I could lose everything—my job, my career. And it’s not fair to you either. You deserve someone who can be with you openly, not hiding in the shadows.”
Sunoo shook his head, stepping closer to Jay. “I don’t care about any of that. I care about you. Why are you pushing me away now?”
“Because I have to,” Jay said, his voice breaking slightly. “This isn’t just about us, Sunoo. It’s about doing what’s right. We can’t keep this up.”
Sunoo stared at Jay, his heart aching with the rejection. “So, that’s it? You’re just going to end it like this?”
Jay looked away, unable to meet Sunoo’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Sunoo. But this is how it has to be.”
For a long moment, Sunoo stood there, struggling to hold back tears. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the classroom, leaving Jay standing alone with the weight of his decision.
As Sunoo walked through the empty hallways, his thoughts were a storm of anger, sadness, and confusion. He had lost Sohee, and now he was losing Jay too. The world around him seemed to be falling apart, and he didn’t know how to stop it.
But one thing was certain—he wasn’t going to let go of Jay that easily. Not without a fight.
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As dusk settled over Lakewood, the oppressive summer heat clung to the air, making everything feel a little heavier, a little more intense. Choi Yeonjun arrived home to find a small, nondescript package sitting on the doorstep. The brown paper was worn, and the edges of the package were slightly crumpled, as if it had been tossed carelessly onto the concrete. His brow furrowed in confusion as he picked it up, noticing the name on the label.
"Daisy," Yeonjun read aloud, feeling a strange shiver crawl up his spine. He knew that name—Jaehyun had told him about it just the day before. But why would something be addressed to his mother under that name?
He stepped into the house, the cool air a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere outside. His mother, Tiffany, was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. The savory aroma of simmering stew filled the air, but it did little to ease the unease Yeonjun felt as he walked over to her.
“Mom, there was a package outside,” Yeonjun said, holding it up. “It’s addressed to someone named Daisy.”
Tiffany turned to face him, her expression unreadable for a moment before she forced a smile. “Oh, that’s probably just a mix-up.”
Yeonjun frowned, not entirely convinced. “It’s just weird, you know? That name hasn’t come up in a long time, and now this shows up out of nowhere.”
Tiffany waved a hand dismissively, though her eyes lingered on the package for a beat longer than necessary. “People from the past have a way of resurfacing at the strangest times. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Okay,” Yeonjun said, still uncertain. “I’m heading out to Sunoo’s party with Gunwook, but I’ll be back later.”
Tiffany smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Have fun, sweetheart. Don’t stay out too late.”
Yeonjun nodded and left the house, the mysterious package still nagging at the back of his mind as he walked out to meet Gunwook.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Tiffany’s smile dropped. She stared at the package in her hands, her heart pounding in her chest. Whoever had sent it knew about Daisy—about her past, the part of her life she had tried so hard to bury.
With trembling hands, she slowly unwrapped the package, the paper crinkling under her fingers. Inside was a small wooden box, its surface smooth and polished. Tiffany hesitated, a sense of dread settling over her like a dark cloud. She opened the box, revealing a single folded note resting on top of something hidden beneath a layer of cloth.
Her breath caught in her throat as she unfolded the note and read the words scrawled in a messy, almost frantic handwriting:
“Yeonjun looks just like you at that age.”
Tiffany’s blood ran cold as she stared at the note, her mind reeling. There was a familiarity to the handwriting, something that made her stomach twist with fear. She hesitated for only a moment before lifting the cloth, revealing what lay beneath.
It was a heart—small, delicate, and unmistakably real. Blood had seeped into the cloth, staining it a deep crimson. Tiffany’s hand flew to her mouth as she stifled a gasp, the horror of what she was seeing making her feel faint.
It was an animal heart, still fresh enough that the scent of blood filled her nostrils. But it was the message, the eerie familiarity of the handwriting, that terrified her more than the gruesome gift.
She stumbled back, dropping the box onto the kitchen counter. The past she had fought so hard to escape was closing in on her, threatening to pull her under. And now, it wasn’t just her life at stake—Yeonjun was in danger too.
Tiffany stood there, her mind racing as she tried to think of what to do next. She couldn’t go to the police; they wouldn’t understand. They’d start asking questions she wasn’t ready to answer, questions that would unravel the life she’d carefully built for herself and her son.
But one thing was clear: whoever had sent the package wasn’t finished. This was only the beginning.
Tiffany took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. She needed to protect Yeonjun, to keep him safe from the shadows of her past. But how could she do that when she wasn’t even sure what—or who—she was up against?
For the first time in years, Tiffany felt truly afraid. But she couldn’t let that fear show, not in front of Yeonjun. She had to be strong, had to keep her secrets buried deep where they couldn’t hurt him.
But as she looked at the bloodied heart, she knew that the past had already started to seep into the present, and there was no telling what it would bring with it.
======================================================
The night was alive with music and laughter as Sunoo's party got into full swing. Students from George Washington High crowded around the spacious living room and backyard, eager to forget the horrors of the past few days, even if just for a little while. The pool shimmered under the glow of string lights, casting a warm and inviting ambiance over the gathering. Despite the festive atmosphere, there was an underlying tension—a sense that something wasn’t quite right.
The doorbell rang, and Sunoo went to answer it, expecting another one of their friends. But when he opened the door, the lively chatter inside the house came to a sudden halt. Standing in the doorway was Choi Beomgyu, his expression a mixture of uncertainty and defiance.
For a moment, nobody moved. The memory of the shaming video was still fresh in everyone’s minds, and Beomgyu’s presence at the party was unexpected, to say the least. Some students exchanged awkward glances, while others simply stared at him, unsure of what to say or do.
Sunoo, ever the social butterfly, was the first to recover. He smiled warmly, stepping aside to let Beomgyu in. “Hey, Beomgyu. Glad you could make it.”
Beomgyu hesitated, his eyes scanning the room as if expecting to be met with ridicule or scorn. But when no one said anything, he nodded and stepped inside, grateful for Sunoo’s kindness.
The initial awkwardness lingered for a few moments longer, but as the music picked up and people returned to their conversations, the tension began to dissipate. Beomgyu found a spot near the pool, sitting on one of the lounge chairs, trying to blend in with the background.
Not long after, Yeonjun noticed him sitting alone and decided to join him. He grabbed a couple of sodas from the cooler and walked over, offering one to Beomgyu with a small smile.
“Hey,” Yeonjun said, taking a seat beside him. “I’m really glad you came tonight.”
Beomgyu accepted the soda, his expression softening as he looked at Yeonjun. “Thanks… I wasn’t sure if I should. After everything that happened…”
Yeonjun shook his head, cracking open his soda. “Forget about all that. We’re all dealing with our own stuff right now. And honestly, it’s nice to have you here. Things haven’t been the same lately.”
Beomgyu sipped his drink, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Yeah, it’s been rough. I didn’t think things would go this far, you know? It’s like, one mistake, and suddenly everyone’s against you.”
“I know,” Yeonjun replied, his voice gentle. “But you’re not alone. We’re still friends, and I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”
The two of them sat in companionable silence for a moment, the sounds of the party fading into the background as they watched the water ripple in the pool. There was something comforting about being with Yeonjun, a sense of normalcy that Beomgyu hadn’t felt in a while.
“Thanks, Yeonjun,” Beomgyu said quietly, his gaze still fixed on the water. “It means a lot.”
Yeonjun smiled and nudged him playfully. “Anytime, Beomgyu. Let’s just try to enjoy the night, yeah?”
Beomgyu nodded, feeling a weight lift off his chest. Maybe, just maybe, things could start to get better.
======================================================
Meanwhile, across the yard, Kim Woonhak was making his way through the crowd, his eyes scanning the faces around him. He was looking for someone specific—Myung Jaehyun, the boy with the dark fascination for serial killers and a wealth of knowledge about Lakewood’s bloody history. Woonhak had always been drawn to the mysterious and the macabre, and Jaehyun intrigued him in a way he couldn’t quite explain.
He finally spotted Jaehyun standing near the edge of the pool, alone and seemingly lost in thought. Woonhak approached him, offering a casual smile. “Hey, Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun looked up, surprised to see Woonhak addressing him. “Oh, hey. Didn’t expect you to talk to me.”
“Why not?” Woonhak shrugged, leaning against the pool’s edge. “You seem interesting. Thought I’d come say hi.”
Jaehyun gave a small, awkward laugh. “Interesting, huh? Most people think I’m weird.”
“Weird can be good,” Woonhak said with a grin. “Especially around here. There’s a lot of weird sh*t going on, you know?”
Jaehyun’s expression sobered, his gaze shifting to the pool’s calm surface. “Yeah… more than most people realize.”
Woonhak noticed the change in his demeanor and decided to press a little further. “You’ve been talking a lot about that Brandon James guy lately. Do you really think there’s a connection between him and what’s happening now?”
Jaehyun hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I don’t know for sure, but it’s possible. History has a way of repeating itself, and the timing is… strange.”
Woonhak tilted his head, intrigued. “You think someone’s trying to finish what Brandon started?”
“Maybe,” Jaehyun said, his voice low. “Or maybe it’s someone who knows more about what really happened back then. There are a lot of secrets in this town.”
Woonhak’s eyes gleamed with interest. “Secrets, huh? Sounds like you might know more than you’re letting on.”
Jaehyun glanced at him, his expression unreadable. “Maybe I do. But some things are better left buried.”
Woonhak chuckled, though there was an edge to his tone. “Well, if you ever feel like digging them up, I’m all ears.”
Jaehyun didn’t respond, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, perhaps, or maybe just caution. Either way, Woonhak had a feeling their conversation was far from over.
======================================================
Back at her home, Tiffany sat at the kitchen table, her hands trembling slightly as she dialed a familiar number on her phone. The events of the evening had shaken her to her core, and she knew she couldn’t handle this alone.
The phone rang twice before a deep voice answered. “Sheriff Minho speaking.”
“Minho, it’s Tiffany,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I need to talk to you. Something… something happened tonight.”
There was a brief pause, and then Minho’s tone softened. “Tiffany, what’s going on? Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not,” Tiffany admitted, her voice cracking slightly. “Someone left a package on my doorstep. It was addressed to Daisy.”
“Daisy?” Minho repeated, the concern in his voice growing. “Tiffany, who knows about that name?”
“Not many people,” she replied, swallowing hard. “It was my family nickname, back when I was younger. But the person who sent the package—they know more than just my nickname. They sent a message, and… Minho, there was a bloody heart in the box.”
Minho cursed under his breath. “A heart? Tiffany, this is serious. Have you told anyone else?”
“No, just you,” she said, her voice trembling. “I didn’t want to scare Yeonjun, but I’m terrified, Minho. What if this is starting again? What if we’re about to go through another cycle of murders?”
“I’m coming over,” Minho said firmly. “Stay inside, lock the doors. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Wait,” Tiffany interrupted, her voice urgent. “There’s something else. The note mentioned Yeonjun—it said he looks just like me at that age. Minho, I’m scared for him. We need to find San, his father. He might have answers.”
Minho was silent for a moment, processing the gravity of the situation. “I’ll track him down. We’ll get to the bottom of this, Tiffany. I won’t let anything happen to you or Yeonjun.”
“Thank you, Minho,” Tiffany whispered, her heart pounding in her chest. “Please, hurry.”
As she ended the call, Tiffany felt a cold dread settle over her. She glanced at the package on the counter, the bloodstained cloth and the ominous note inside. The shadows of her past were closing in, and she knew that she and Yeonjun were in more danger than ever before.
======================================================
As the night wore on, the mood at Sunoo’s party shifted. The music had mellowed, and the gathering had split into smaller groups, each finding their own space to relax and talk. In the backyard, near the crackling fire pit, a cluster of partygoers gathered with drinks in hand. The firelight cast flickering shadows on their faces, adding an eerie glow to the conversation that had turned darker, thanks to Myung Jaehyun.
Jaehyun leaned forward, his voice low but intense, as he continued to regale the group with the twisted tale of Brandon James. “So, there he was, waiting on the pier for Daisy—thinking maybe she was the one person who didn’t see him as a monster. But when the cops showed up instead, he knew it was over. They shot him down like a rabid dog.”
The group listened in rapt silence, some with wide eyes, others with skeptical smirks. Jaehyun seemed to thrive on the attention, especially when the topic shifted to the recent murder. “And now, Sohee’s dead—murdered in cold blood. It’s almost like history’s repeating itself. You know how these things go, right? Small town, old secrets, and suddenly the body count starts to rise.”
“Yeah, but this isn’t a horror movie, Jaehyun,” one of the listeners scoffed, though his voice lacked conviction. “It’s real life.”
“Is it?” Jaehyun shot back, his tone playful but with an edge. “You ever notice how real life and horror movies aren’t that different? A group of teens, a tragic backstory, a masked killer picking us off one by one… Sound familiar?”
The group fell into a tense silence, the fire crackling ominously in the background. Even those who had been dismissive before were now glancing around uneasily, as if expecting the killer Jaehyun described to emerge from the shadows at any moment.
Meanwhile, inside the house, Sunoo was chatting with a few friends in the kitchen when his gaze drifted across the room and landed on Gunwook. The tension between Gunwook and Yeonjun was palpable, and Sunoo, ever the observant one, couldn’t help but bring it up.
“You know,” Sunoo began, leaning in close to his friends, his voice a conspiratorial whisper, “I think there’s more to Gunwook and Sohee than meets the eye.”
One of the friends raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
Sunoo’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “Let’s just say I’ve seen the way they looked at each other. And I’ve heard things—things that make me think they were more than just acquaintances.”
Before the conversation could go any further, Yeonjun appeared in the doorway, his expression darkening as he overheard the tail end of Sunoo’s insinuations. The pieces began to fall into place in Yeonjun’s mind—Gunwook’s strange behavior, the tension he had sensed between his boyfriend and Sohee, and now this.
Unable to contain his anger and hurt, Yeonjun walked straight up to Gunwook, his eyes blazing. “Did you sleep with Sohee?” he demanded, his voice barely above a whisper but heavy with emotion.
Gunwook’s face paled, and he looked away, guilt written all over his features. “Yeonjun, I—”
“That’s all I needed to hear,” Yeonjun cut him off, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. Without waiting for an explanation, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Gunwook standing there, helpless and ashamed.
Yeonjun pushed through the crowded house, his mind racing and his heart pounding. He needed to get away, to clear his head, and without really thinking, he found himself outside, wandering toward the greenhouse at the edge of the property.
======================================================
The greenhouse was quiet, a peaceful sanctuary away from the noise of the party. The air was warm and humid, filled with the earthy scent of plants and flowers. Yeonjun stepped inside, grateful for the solitude. He wandered through the rows of greenery, his thoughts a tangled mess, until he saw a figure standing near a cluster of potted orchids.
It was Choi Soobin, the new transfer student who had moved to Lakewood recently. Soobin was gently touching the petals of one of the flowers, his expression thoughtful. He looked up when he heard Yeonjun approach, offering a small, tentative smile.
“Hey,” Soobin said softly, his voice carrying a calm that contrasted with the storm raging in Yeonjun’s chest. “Didn’t expect to see anyone else in here.”
“Needed some air,” Yeonjun replied, trying to keep his emotions in check. “This place is nice.”
Soobin nodded, his fingers tracing the edge of a leaf. “Yeah, it reminds me of home… or at least, what home used to be like.”
Yeonjun leaned against one of the wooden posts, curious despite his inner turmoil. “What do you mean?”
Soobin sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Things have been… complicated. My family, we had to leave everything behind and start over. My dad got into some trouble, and it was either move here or… well, let’s just say we didn’t have much choice.”
Yeonjun listened quietly, sensing the weight behind Soobin’s words. “That sounds tough.”
“It is,” Soobin admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m trying to make the best of it. New place, new people… Maybe things will be better here.”
There was a pause as Yeonjun processed Soobin’s story, his anger from earlier slowly giving way to empathy. “It’s hard, isn’t it? Starting over when you feel like everything’s falling apart.”
Soobin looked up, meeting Yeonjun’s eyes. “Yeah, it is. But sometimes, you just have to take what life gives you and keep moving forward.”
Their eyes locked, and in that moment, something shifted between them. The greenhouse, with its soft lighting and quiet atmosphere, seemed to shrink, pulling them closer together. Yeonjun found himself stepping forward, drawn to Soobin in a way he hadn’t expected.
“Soobin…” Yeonjun’s voice trailed off, unsure of what he wanted to say, but knowing that the connection he felt was undeniable.
Soobin didn’t hesitate. He took a step closer, closing the gap between them, and before either of them could second-guess it, their lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss.
It was a kiss that spoke of comfort and understanding, a moment of connection in the midst of chaos. For Yeonjun, it was a brief escape from the confusion and pain of the night. For Soobin, it was a sign that maybe, just maybe, things could start to get better.
When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, both of them breathing a little heavier, but feeling a little lighter.
“Soobin…” Yeonjun began, his voice soft, “I—”
“It’s okay,” Soobin interrupted, a small smile on his lips. “We don’t have to figure everything out right now. Let’s just… be here, together.”
Yeonjun nodded, grateful for Soobin’s understanding. They stood there in the greenhouse, surrounded by the warmth of the plants and each other, finding solace in a moment that felt like a much-needed calm in the eye of the storm.
======================================================
The party was still in full swing, but Sunoo’s mind was elsewhere. As he made his way through the house, something out of place caught his eye—a faint glow emanating from the garage, barely visible through the narrow windows on the door. His curiosity piqued, Sunoo excused himself from the conversation he was having and headed toward the garage, wondering if someone had left a light on by accident.
When he reached the door, he hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob. The house was old, prone to creaks and flickering lights, but something about this felt different. He shook off the uneasy feeling and opened the door, stepping into the dimly lit garage. The light above the workbench flickered slightly, casting long shadows across the floor. Sunoo's gaze swept the room, landing on one of the cars parked inside—a sleek black sedan. The driver's side door was ajar, just enough to suggest that someone had been inside recently.
Sunoo frowned, approaching the car cautiously. “That’s weird,” he muttered to himself. “I don’t remember anyone coming in here…”
He reached out to close the door but stopped short when he noticed something on the seat—a set of keys, as if someone had dropped them in a hurry. He hesitated, the uneasy feeling growing stronger. Something wasn’t right.
As he leaned in to grab the keys, a faint sound reached his ears—a metallic scraping, like the sharpening of a knife. His heart skipped a beat, and he instinctively turned to look over his shoulder, but the garage was empty. The sound came again, this time closer, more distinct.
Panic set in. Sunoo’s mind raced as he quickly backed away from the car, the keys clutched in his hand. He spun around, ready to bolt out of the garage, but as he reached the door, he collided with someone. He gasped, the impact sending him stumbling backward.
It was Gunwook, standing there with an unreadable expression. Relief flooded through Sunoo, but it was short-lived.
“Gunwook,” Sunoo exhaled, trying to steady his breathing. “You scared the hell out of me. What are you doing here?”
Gunwook didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer, his eyes dark and intense, filled with something Sunoo couldn’t quite place—anger, maybe, or something more dangerous.
“You need to stop, Sunoo,” Gunwook said, his voice low and menacing. “Stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Sunoo blinked, confusion mingling with his fear. “What are you talking about?”
“Yeonjun,” Gunwook hissed, his face mere inches from Sunoo’s. “You keep trying to get between us, and I won’t let that happen. Stay out of our business, or you’ll regret it.”
Sunoo’s mouth went dry as he tried to process Gunwook’s words. This was a side of Gunwook he hadn’t seen before—cold, threatening, and completely unhinged. “I… I don’t understand—”
“Just stay out of it,” Gunwook cut him off, his tone leaving no room for argument. He grabbed Sunoo’s wrist and squeezed it painfully, making sure his point was clear. “This is your last warning.”
Sunoo nodded frantically, his mind racing. Gunwook held his gaze for a moment longer before releasing him and turning to leave the garage. Sunoo didn’t move until he was sure Gunwook was gone, his legs trembling beneath him. He hadn’t just been scared—he’d been terrified.
======================================================
Meanwhile, down by the lake, Myung Jaehyun groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. The world around him was hazy, his mind foggy as he tried to make sense of where he was. The last thing he remembered was passing out at the party, the alcohol and exhaustion finally catching up to him.
But now… now he was somewhere else, cold and disoriented. He blinked several times, trying to clear his vision, and realized with a start that he was on the pier, stripped down to his underwear. The cool night air bit at his exposed skin, and he shivered, a growing sense of dread filling him.
“What the hell…?” Jaehyun muttered to himself, pushing himself up on shaky legs. The pier creaked beneath him, the water lapping quietly against the wooden posts. He was alone, the party’s distant sounds barely audible from where he stood. Panic bubbled in his chest as he struggled to remember how he’d ended up here.
Before he could gather his thoughts, a splash from the lake drew his attention. He squinted into the darkness, trying to see what had caused it, but the water was still and undisturbed. A chill ran down his spine, and Jaehyun’s heart raced.
He took a step toward the edge of the pier, peering into the black water below. “Who’s there?” he called out, his voice shaky.
There was no response, only the eerie silence of the lake. But then, something beneath the surface moved—something dark and shadowy. Jaehyun’s breath caught in his throat as he watched the shape swim closer, the water rippling around it.
Before he could react, a cold, clammy hand shot out of the water and grabbed his ankle, yanking him off balance. Jaehyun screamed, stumbling backward and falling into the lake with a loud splash. The freezing water closed over his head, disorienting him as he thrashed wildly, trying to break free from the grip that was pulling him under.
He struggled desperately, kicking and clawing at the water, but the hand tightened its hold, dragging him deeper into the darkness. The pressure in his chest built as he fought to hold his breath, his vision blurring as the surface of the lake seemed to drift further and further away.
Just when Jaehyun thought he couldn’t fight any longer, another pair of hands grabbed him—strong and urgent, pulling him back toward the light. He broke through the surface with a gasp, gulping in air as he was hauled back to the pier.
Coughing and sputtering, Jaehyun collapsed onto the wooden planks, shivering uncontrollably. He looked up to see Choi Soobin kneeling beside him, his own clothes soaked from the rescue.
“Jaehyun, are you okay?” Soobin asked, his voice filled with concern.
Jaehyun’s eyes were wide with terror as he clutched at Soobin, his voice trembling. “Someone… someone grabbed me. They pulled me under. I swear, Soobin, someone was down there!”
Soobin glanced out at the lake, but the water was still once more, reflecting only the pale moonlight. “There’s no one there now,” he said gently, trying to calm Jaehyun down. “Maybe it was just the current or something.”
But Jaehyun shook his head vehemently, his hands gripping Soobin’s arms as if for dear life. “No! I felt it, Soobin. I’m not crazy—someone was down there, and they tried to drown me.”
Soobin frowned, realizing the fear in Jaehyun’s eyes was real, whether or not he believed what he was saying. “Okay, okay, I believe you,” he said, his voice soothing. “Let’s just get you inside, alright? We’ll figure this out.”
Jaehyun nodded shakily, allowing Soobin to help him to his feet. As they made their way back toward the house, Jaehyun couldn’t stop glancing over his shoulder at the lake, half-expecting to see that dark shape rising from the depths again.
He didn’t know what had happened to him or who had been in the water, but one thing was certain—something evil was lurking in Lakewood, and it wasn’t done with them yet.
======================================================
Soobin’s car glided through the quiet streets of Lakewood, the late-night calm a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded earlier. Yeonjun sat beside him, his gaze distant and contemplative. The unsettling events of the night had left him with more questions than answers, and the feeling of Soobin’s comforting presence was the only thing keeping him grounded.
As they approached Yeonjun’s house, the glow of the porch light revealed Sheriff Minho standing in the doorway, engaged in an animated conversation with Tiffany. Yeonjun’s curiosity piqued. He hadn’t expected to see his mother chatting with the sheriff at this hour.
Soobin pulled up to the curb, and before Yeonjun could step out, Soobin broke the silence. “That’s my father, Sheriff Minho,” he said, nodding toward the sheriff.
Yeonjun’s eyes widened slightly. “Really? I didn’t know that.”
Soobin gave a small smile. “Yeah, he’s been the sheriff here for as long as I can remember. It’s been… interesting, moving to a town where everyone knows him.”
Yeonjun chuckled softly, though the sound lacked true mirth. “I bet. I suppose it’s good to have someone like him looking out for the town.”
The two of them watched as Sheriff Minho gestured animatedly, his face etched with concern. Tiffany’s expression was a mix of worry and resolve. As Soobin parked the car, they stepped out, and the conversation between the sheriff and Tiffany ceased as they noticed the approaching figures.
“Yeonjun, Soobin,” Tiffany greeted with a strained smile. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”
Sheriff Minho gave a nod in acknowledgment. “Evening, Yeonjun. Soobin.” His gaze lingered on Soobin for a moment before shifting back to Yeonjun. “We were just discussing the recent events. It’s been quite a night.”
Soobin’s eyes met his father’s with a mix of apprehension and understanding. “I’m sorry about the late hour, Sheriff. I hope everything’s alright?”
Sheriff Minho’s expression softened slightly. “Just dealing with a few things. You both take care, alright?”
Yeonjun nodded, sensing there was more to the situation than he was being told. “Thanks, Sheriff. We will.”
As Soobin and Yeonjun said their goodbyes and headed inside, the tension from earlier seemed to settle slightly, though the uncertainty remained. Yeonjun glanced at Soobin, grateful for his support, but also feeling a gnawing worry about what the sheriff and Tiffany might be discussing.
Elsewhere in Lakewood, the night had fallen dark and quiet once more. Beomgyu was heading to his boyfriend Taehyun’s house, a brief respite from the turmoil that had plagued him lately. The streets were empty, the silence a stark contrast to the chaos that had erupted in his life.
As Beomgyu approached Taehyun’s front door, he noticed a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. The feeling of being watched gnawed at him, but he brushed it off as nerves from the stress of the past few days. He knocked on the door and waited, his breath visible in the cool night air.
“Hey, B,” Taehyun greeted with a warm smile when he opened the door. “You’re right on time. Come on in.”
Beomgyu managed a tired smile as he stepped inside. “Thanks. I really needed this.”
But as the door closed behind him, a shadow slipped away into the darkness, hidden from view. The Lakewood Slasher had been watching, waiting for the right moment. The sense of impending danger was palpable, but for now, the darkness remained still, its intentions hidden.
======================================================
The next morning at school, the atmosphere was tense with rumors and unease. Jaehyun was pulled from his usual routine by a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find Sheriff Minho standing behind him, a serious expression on his face.
“Jaehyun, can I have a word with you?” the sheriff asked.
Jaehyun’s heart skipped a beat. “Sure, Sheriff. What’s this about?”
“We need you to come down to the station for some questioning after school,” Minho said, his voice steady but firm. “We’re looking into Brandon James and his connections to the recent events in town.”
Jaehyun’s anxiety spiked, but he nodded. “Alright, I’ll be there with you.”
Jaehyun’s mind raced. The connection between the old murders and the recent killings was becoming clearer, but he still didn’t understand his role in it. Sheriff Minho’s demeanor was professional, but the weight of the situation hung heavy in the air.
Later in the school cafeteria, Woonhak and Jaehyun sat together, their conversation punctuated by glances and shy smiles. Despite the unsettling circ*mstances, there was a spark between them, a mutual attraction that seemed to grow with each passing day.
“Hey,” Woonhak said, his voice low and casual as he reached for a tray of food. “You doing okay after last night?”
Jaehyun offered a wry smile. “I’m hanging in there. Just a bit shaken up.”
Woonhak leaned in closer, his expression softening. “If you need someone to talk to or just hang out with, I’m here.”
Jaehyun’s heart fluttered at the sincerity in Woonhak’s eyes. “Thanks, Woonhak. That means a lot.”
The two of them continued to chat, their easy banter and shared smiles providing a brief escape from the tension of the day. As they laughed and talked, the dark clouds hanging over Lakewood seemed to momentarily lift, offering a brief respite from the chaos that loomed just beyond their grasp.
======================================================
Yeonjun stood on Beomgyu's doorstep, his heart pounding in his chest. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, casting long shadows across the yard. He took a deep breath, hoping his confession would somehow ease the tension between them.
Beomgyu opened the door, his face a mix of exhaustion and annoyance. “Yeonjun. What’s up?”
“Can I come in?” Yeonjun asked, his voice trembling slightly. “I need to talk to you.”
Beomgyu hesitated but eventually stepped aside, allowing Yeonjun to enter. The room was dimly lit, and the tension between them was palpable. Yeonjun took a seat on the edge of the couch, his gaze fixed on the floor.
“I… I wanted to tell you the truth about the video,” Yeonjun began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t film it. That was Sohee’s role. I was just a witness to everything that happened.”
Beomgyu’s eyes widened, a mix of hurt and anger flickering across his face. “So, you were just there. Watching everything. Is that it?”
Yeonjun nodded, his throat tight. “I know it doesn’t make it any better. I was there, and I feel awful about it. That’s why I wanted to make things right, why I reached out to you.”
Beomgyu’s expression hardened. “So you only wanted to be friends again because you felt guilty. That’s why you invited me to the party, why you’ve been hanging around. It was all just pity, wasn’t it?”
“No, that’s not—” Yeonjun started, but Beomgyu cut him off.
“Save it,” Beomgyu snapped, his voice rising. “I don’t want your pity. I don’t want your guilt. Just get out.”
Yeonjun’s heart sank. He tried to protest, but Beomgyu’s firm stance left no room for argument. With a heavy heart, Yeonjun stood up and made his way to the door, his shoulders slumped.
As he stepped outside, Yeonjun’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, seeing an unknown number flashing on the screen. With a sigh of frustration, he answered the call.
“Hello?” Yeonjun’s voice was shaky. “Who is this?”
A cold, distorted voice crackled through the receiver. “Hello, Yeonjun. Long time no speak. I’m an old friend.”
Yeonjun’s blood ran cold. “I’m not in the mood for games. Who are you?”
The voice on the other end seemed amused. “Oh, I see. You’re upset. Crying, even. That’s quite interesting.”
Yeonjun’s breath caught in his throat. “How do you know that?”
“You’d be surprised what I can see,” the voice said, its tone chilling. “It’s almost poetic, really. How easy it is to keep an eye on you. Your so-called perfect life… it’s about to be revealed for what it truly is.”
Panic surged through Yeonjun. “What do you want from me?”
“Just a little fun,” the voice replied. “I’m going to lift the mask on your perfect life, show everyone what’s really beneath. You’ll see, Yeonjun. Nothing stays hidden forever.”
The call ended abruptly, leaving Yeonjun standing there, the phone clutched tightly in his trembling hand. His mind raced as he stared at the screen, trying to process the chilling threat. The eerie feeling of being watched lingered, a dark reminder that the nightmare in Lakewood was far from over.
======================================================
The late afternoon sun cast a golden hue over George Washington High School as students milled about, their chatter filling the air. In the library, Jaehyun and Woonhak sat together at a table, a pile of books and notes scattered around them. They were deep in conversation, their voices a soft murmur against the backdrop of the busy room.
Jaehyun’s enthusiasm for horror tropes was evident as he animatedly described various clichés. “So, there’s this classic trope where the unsuspecting hero ends up being the killer’s next target because they know too much,” Jaehyun said, gesticulating with a pen. “It’s a staple in slasher films—builds up the suspense and keeps the audience on edge.”
Woonhak listened intently, nodding along. “I’ve always found that trope fascinating. It’s like the killer is almost playing a game with their victims.”
Jaehyun grinned. “Exactly! And sometimes, the most shocking twists come from the people who seem the least likely to be involved. It’s all about subverting expectations.”
Meanwhile, across the room, Sunghoon was engrossed in his laptop, his focus unwavering. The screen displayed a series of folders, one of which was labeled “Sohee.” He clicked on it, and a video began to play—a grainy recording of Sohee’s final moments, shot from a hidden vantage point. Sunghoon’s face was illuminated by the eerie glow of the screen, his expression a mixture of fascination and discomfort.
At the same time, Beomgyu sat alone in a secluded corner of the library, his backpack open on the table. He pulled out a folder, carefully unfolding a photograph from inside. The image depicted Brandon James unmasked, his face twisted in a grotesque mix of anger and pain. Beomgyu’s fingers traced the edges of the photo, his eyes narrowing as he studied the details.
He folded the photograph back into the folder, glancing around to ensure no one had seen him. The secrets of Lakewood seemed to weigh heavily on him, the photograph a grim reminder of the town’s dark history.
Back at the table, Jaehyun and Woonhak were interrupted by a sudden movement. Jaehyun flinched as he adjusted his position, inadvertently revealing a bloody wound on his forehead. The injury was partially hidden beneath his bangs, but it was clear enough to catch Woonhak’s attention.
“Jaehyun, what happened?” Woonhak asked, concern etched on his face. He reached out, gently touching Jaehyun’s arm.
Jaehyun winced, pulling away slightly. “It’s nothing, really. Just a little accident.”
Woonhak’s eyes searched Jaehyun’s face, his worry growing. “That doesn’t look like just a little accident. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Jaehyun forced a smile, trying to brush off the concern. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just some clumsiness. It’s not a big deal.”
Woonhak didn’t look convinced but nodded reluctantly. “If you say so. Just be careful, alright?”
Jaehyun nodded, his smile faltering. He wasn’t ready to reveal the full extent of what had happened to him, nor the growing sense of unease that had been gnawing at him ever since his encounter at the lake. As he and Woonhak continued their conversation, Jaehyun couldn’t shake the feeling that the threads of the town’s dark secrets were slowly pulling together, revealing a tapestry of horror and betrayal that was far from over.
Chapter 2: Hello, Yeonjun
Notes:
“What you should really be asking is, did you just lock me in or out?”
Chapter Text
Taehyun sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone in disbelief. The screen, once filled with the viral video of him and Beomgyu kissing, now displayed an error message in harsh red letters: "Content removed due to violation of community guidelines." His stomach twisted as the message sank in. The video had been their declaration, their way of standing up against the constant bullying. And now it was gone, wiped away as if it had never existed.
Despite the removal of the video, Taehyun could still see the comments—thousands of them, scrolling endlessly beneath the now-blank screen. Some were supportive, filled with encouragement and pride, but others were cruel, laced with hom*ophobia and hatred. The harsh words cut deep, each one a reminder of the stigma and rejection they had faced.
His breath hitched, and he felt the familiar urge bubbling up inside him. Before he realized what he was doing, Taehyun had grabbed a razor from his bedside drawer, his hand trembling as he stared at the cold, sharp blade. The pain was a release, a way to feel something other than the overwhelming sadness and anger. But just as he was about to press the blade against his skin, his phone buzzed in his hand. It was Beomgyu calling.
Taehyun hesitated for a moment, the razor still in his other hand, before answering the call. “Hello?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Taehyun,” Beomgyu’s voice crackled through the phone, distorted and muffled by a bad connection. “Are you there? Can you hear me?”
Taehyun swallowed hard, trying to steady his voice. “Yeah, I’m here. The connection’s bad, though. What’s up?”
“I just saw the video got taken down,” Beomgyu said, frustration evident in his tone. “Can you believe that? It’s like they don’t want us to exist.”
Taehyun closed his eyes, feeling the weight of Beomgyu’s words. “I know. It’s like we have a bitch infestation at our school—people who can’t stand seeing us happy. They’re the ones spreading all this hate, making everything worse.”
The line crackled again, making Beomgyu’s response difficult to hear. “I hate them,” he said, his voice strained with anger. “But they’re not going to win, okay? We can’t let them.”
Taehyun glanced down at the razor in his hand, the blade catching the dim light of his room. “I just… I don’t know how much more of this I can take, Beomgyu. It’s too much.”
There was a pause on the other end, followed by a softer, more concerned tone from Beomgyu. “Do you want me to come over? I could be there in a few minutes.”
Taehyun’s heart ached at the offer, but he shook his head, even though Beomgyu couldn’t see him. “No, it’s really late. You should get some sleep.”
For a moment, there was nothing but silence on the other end of the line. Taehyun wondered if the connection had finally cut out completely, but then he heard Beomgyu’s voice, quieter now, almost hesitant. “Are you sure, Taehyun? I don’t like the idea of you being alone right now.”
Taehyun’s grip on the razor tightened, his voice wavering. “I’m sure. I’ll be fine. I just need some time to think.”
Taehyun ended the call. The silence of his room felt deafening, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. Slowly, he set the razor aside, his hand still trembling. He didn’t know what the next day would bring, or how he would face the world that seemed so intent on tearing him down.
Taehyun sat on the edge of his bed, phone still in hand, the silence in his room feeling heavier than before. He stared at the screen, the call with Beomgyu just ending, when another text came through. It was from Beomgyu, and it sent a chill down his spine.
**"What if I’m already here?"**
Taehyun blinked, his heart skipping a beat. He read the message again, trying to process what it meant. Before he could fully grasp the implications, a noise came from outside—something subtle, like the rustling of leaves or a soft thud.
He frowned, shaking his head. “Beomgyu, you better not be joking around,” Taehyun muttered to himself, trying to push away the uneasy feeling creeping over him. He stood up, slipping on his shoes before making his way out to the balcony, fully expecting to see his boyfriend playing some prank on him.
The night air was cool as Taehyun stepped outside. The faint glow of the moon cast shadows across the ground, making everything seem more eerie than usual. He scanned the area below his balcony, looking for any sign of Beomgyu, but the yard was empty. Just as he was about to call out, something caught his eye.
There, tied to the railing of his balcony, was a rope. Taehyun’s brow furrowed in confusion as he approached it. The rope seemed to dangle almost innocuously, but as he lifted it for closer inspection, his breath caught in his throat. At the end of the rope was a noose.
“What the hell…” Taehyun whispered, his fingers trembling as he held the rope. A wave of panic surged through him, his mind racing with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last.
Before he could react, a figure stepped out of the shadows behind him. It was Ghostface, his black cloak blending seamlessly with the night, only the white mask standing out in the darkness. Taehyun felt a surge of fear as he realized he wasn’t alone.
In an instant, Ghostface grabbed the noose from Taehyun’s hands and, with swift precision, looped it around his neck. Taehyun gasped, his hands flying to the rope as he struggled against the killer. “No! Stop!” he cried out, his voice choking on the fear that constricted his throat.
But Ghostface was relentless. With a powerful shove, he forced Taehyun to the edge of the balcony. Taehyun fought desperately, clawing at the rope around his neck, his eyes wide with terror. But it was no use. With a final, brutal motion, Ghostface pushed Taehyun over the railing.
The rope snapped taut, and Taehyun’s body jerked violently as it hung in the air. The noose tightened, cutting off his breath, and with a sickening crack, his neck broke. The world around him blurred as his vision darkened, the pain overwhelming. Taehyun’s fingers twitched as he hung there, the life rapidly draining from his body.
Ghostface watched impassively from the balcony, the gruesome scene playing out with cold detachment. The killer turned away, disappearing into the shadows as Taehyun’s lifeless body swayed gently in the night breeze, a haunting figure against the backdrop of the starless sky.
The only sound left was the creaking of the rope, echoing in the stillness of the night, a grim reminder that in Lakewood, no one was truly safe.
======================================================
The small town of Lakewood was quiet as dawn broke, its streets bathed in the soft light of morning. But the peace was deceiving. Beneath the surface, a storm of fear and speculation brewed, fueled by the gruesome murder that had shaken the town to its core. Everyone was talking about it—everyone, it seemed, except for the one person who mattered most: Eunseok, who had vanished without a trace.
Sung Hanbin’s voice crackled through the airwaves, his words punctuated by the soft hum of background music. His podcast had become the go-to source for updates on the investigation, each new episode eagerly awaited by the town’s residents.
“It’s been four days since the murder of Lee Sohee,” Hanbin began, his tone measured yet tinged with curiosity. “Four days, and still no sign of Eunseok, who remains the prime suspect. Sheriff Choi Minho has been working tirelessly to track him down, but so far, all efforts have come up empty. The question on everyone’s mind: where is Eunseok, and is he truly the killer, or is there something more sinister at play?”
Yeonjun walked briskly down the sidewalk, the podcast playing through his headphones. The words echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of the nightmare that had overtaken their lives. He shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket, trying to block out the rising anxiety that threatened to overwhelm him. The town felt different now—colder, more dangerous. Every corner seemed to hold a secret, every shadow a threat.
Hanbin continued, his voice calm but probing. “The investigation has stirred up more questions than answers. What really happened that night? And why did Eunseok disappear? Stay tuned as we continue to unravel the mystery surrounding Sohee’s death. Remember, in Lakewood, no one is who they seem…”
Yeonjun was so absorbed in the podcast that he didn’t notice Sunoo and Woonhak approaching until Sunoo tapped him on the shoulder. Startled, Yeonjun pulled off his headphones and turned to face them, his heart still racing from the sudden interruption.
“Hey!” Sunoo said, his voice a mix of concern and frustration. “I’ve been texting you, like, all morning. Why haven’t you responded?”
Yeonjun blinked, momentarily disoriented. He fumbled for his phone, seeing the string of unread messages from Sunoo. Guilt prickled at him as he realized he had completely neglected to check his phone since leaving the house. “Oh, I’m sorry, Sunoo. I didn’t see them—I was… listening to the podcast.”
Sunoo crossed his arms, a small frown creasing his forehead. “You’ve been really distant lately. Is everything okay? I know things have been crazy with everything that’s happening, but you’re starting to worry me.”
Woonhak, standing beside Sunoo, gave Yeonjun a sympathetic look. “We just want to make sure you’re alright, Yeonjun. This whole thing has been rough on everyone, and you’ve been dealing with a lot.”
Yeonjun sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, guys. I’ve just been… overwhelmed. Everything with Sohee’s murder, the investigation, it’s all gotten to me. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”
======================================================
Yeonjun’s mind was racing, the residual tension from Hanbin’s podcast still gripping him as he walked alongside Sunoo and Woonhak. Despite his earlier apology, a wall had gone up inside him, and he found it hard to engage with his friends. Sunoo, sensing the distance, walked a little closer to Yeonjun, his expression uncertain.
“Yeonjun, wait,” Sunoo said, reaching out to stop him. “I… I need to talk to you about something.”
Yeonjun slowed his pace, turning to face Sunoo with a guarded look. “What is it?”
Sunoo hesitated, his eyes flickering with regret. “I wanted to apologize for what I said at the party. About Sohee and Gunwook… I shouldn’t have brought it up like that.”
Yeonjun narrowed his eyes, the hurt from that night still fresh. “You’re apologizing now? After everything that’s happened?”
Sunoo’s face flushed with guilt, and he looked down at the ground. “I know I should’ve told you sooner, but I was scared, Yeonjun. Scared of what Sohee might do if he found out I knew about him and Gunwook. I didn’t want to get dragged into whatever mess he was creating.”
Yeonjun’s expression softened slightly as he listened to Sunoo’s confession. He understood fear—it was something they were all living with now. But still, the fact that Sunoo had kept such a big secret hurt more than he wanted to admit. “So, you were afraid of Sohee?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Sunoo nodded, meeting Yeonjun’s gaze with an earnest look. “Yeah… I was. Sohee wasn’t just cruel, he was manipulative. He had this way of making you feel like you didn’t have a choice but to do what he wanted. I should have been honest with you, but I was just… scared.”
Yeonjun sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He knew Sunoo was telling the truth—Sohee had been a force to be reckoned with, someone who thrived on control. “I get it, Sunoo. I do. I just wish you’d trusted me enough to tell me sooner.”
Sunoo’s face relaxed with relief, and he managed a small, grateful smile. “I’m sorry, Yeonjun. I really am.”
Yeonjun nodded, offering a brief smile in return. “It’s okay. Let’s just… move on from it.”
Sunoo’s smile widened a bit more, and Woonhak, who had been quietly watching the exchange, placed a reassuring hand on Sunoo’s shoulder. The three of them resumed walking toward the school entrance, the earlier tension dissipating into a more comfortable silence.
As they approached the front doors, Yeonjun suddenly remembered something that had been bothering him. “Hey, have either of you been getting any weird phone calls lately?” he asked, his voice low as if someone might overhear.
Sunoo looked at him curiously, while Woonhak raised an eyebrow. “Weird phone calls? Like from an unknown number?”
“Yeah,” Yeonjun replied, glancing around nervously. “I got one last night, and it… it felt like someone was watching me.”
Sunoo frowned, concern etched on his face. “Watching you? That’s creepy, Yeonjun. What did they say?”
Before Yeonjun could respond, Woonhak spoke up. “It could be Sunghoon,” he suggested, his tone nonchalant. “You know how he likes to mess with people.”
Yeonjun shook his head, the memory of the call sending a shiver down his spine. “I don’t think it was Sunghoon… this felt different. More serious.”
The three of them walked into the school together, the usual bustle of students and teachers a stark contrast to the dark thoughts swirling in their minds. As they headed down the hallway, Yeonjun couldn’t shake the feeling that something was looming over them, something that wouldn’t let go until it had claimed them all.
======================================================
The Lakewood Police Station was a stark contrast to the chaos swirling around the town. Its fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow over the beige walls, and the hum of activity was muted by the glass partitions separating the offices. In one of the interrogation rooms, Sheriff Choi Minho sat across from Myung Jaehyun, a tape recorder set between them. The atmosphere was thick with tension as Minho leaned forward, his sharp eyes fixed on the young man in front of him.
Jaehyun, usually confident and outspoken, now appeared slightly uneasy. His fingers drummed nervously on the table, and his gaze flickered around the room as if searching for an escape route. But there was none. The door was closed, and the only way out was through Minho.
Minho cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Jaehyun, you have quite a reputation around town. Everyone knows you're fascinated by serial killers, especially Brandon James. That’s why I’ve asked you to come in today."
Jaehyun nodded, his voice steady despite the tension in his posture. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. I’ve always been interested in true crime, and Brandon James is… well, he’s the biggest story Lakewood has ever had."
Minho’s gaze didn’t waver. "So, tell me about this obsession. How far did you go in your research?"
Jaehyun shrugged, trying to play it off as casual. "I dug into everything I could find—newspaper archives, police reports, even local legends. I wanted to understand what really happened, why he did what he did."
Minho leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, probing tone. "I understand you tried to reach out to Brandon James’s brother, Troy, to get some answers. Specifically, you wanted to know more about the mystery girl Brandon was supposedly in love with—this Daisy character. Did you ever get in touch with him?"
Jaehyun shook his head, frustration flickering across his face. "I tried, but Troy never responded. I thought maybe he could help identify Daisy, but none of my theories about her panned out. It’s like she just disappeared, like she never existed."
Minho observed him carefully, noting the mix of determination and disappointment in Jaehyun’s expression. "And why were you so interested in Daisy? What did you hope to find?"
Jaehyun hesitated, searching for the right words. "I thought… if I could figure out who she was, maybe it would explain why Brandon snapped. Why he went from being this quiet, misunderstood kid to a killer. But no matter how much I dug, I couldn’t find anything concrete."
Minho nodded slowly, absorbing Jaehyun’s words. "So, you never found out who Daisy was?"
"No," Jaehyun replied, his frustration evident. "It’s like she was a ghost. No records, no witnesses… nothing."
Minho leaned back in his chair, considering his next question carefully. "Jaehyun, in all your research, did you ever try to contact Choi San?"
At the mention of the name, Jaehyun’s eyes widened slightly, but he quickly shook his head. "No, never. I didn’t even know he was involved in any of this until recently. I’ve never reached out to him."
Minho’s eyes narrowed, searching Jaehyun’s face for any sign of deceit. "You’re sure about that?"
"Positive," Jaehyun replied firmly. "I’ve only focused on Brandon and his brother. Choi San… he wasn’t even on my radar."
Minho studied him for a long moment, the silence between them heavy and expectant. Finally, he nodded, seemingly satisfied with Jaehyun’s answers. "Alright, Jaehyun. I appreciate your cooperation. But let me be clear—if you’re holding anything back, if you know anything more than what you’ve told me today, now’s the time to come clean."
Jaehyun shook his head again, more resolutely this time. "I’ve told you everything I know, Sheriff. I’m just as in the dark as everyone else."
Minho’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before he stood up, signaling the end of the interrogation. "Alright, you’re free to go. But remember, if you come across anything—anything at all—you need to let me know immediately."
Jaehyun nodded and quickly got to his feet, eager to leave the suffocating room.
======================================================
Jaehyun took a deep breath as he stood up from the chair, the relief of being free to leave almost overwhelming. His thoughts raced as he headed for the door, eager to get out of the police station and away from the questions that had begun to weigh on him. But just as his hand reached for the doorknob, it swung open, and in walked Choi Soobin.
Soobin, with his usual calm demeanor, stepped into the room, his eyes briefly meeting Jaehyun’s. There was a moment of recognition, and Jaehyun hesitated, unsure of what to say. But then he remembered what had happened at the lake, and words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.
"Hey, Soobin," Jaehyun started, his voice a mix of gratitude and lingering embarrassment. "Thanks for saving my life back at the lake. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up."
Soobin, ever composed, gave a small nod, his expression unreadable. "No problem," he replied simply, as if rescuing someone from drowning was just another everyday task.
Jaehyun managed a weak smile, sensing that their brief exchange was over. He mumbled a quick goodbye and hurried out of the room, the tension of the interrogation still clinging to him as he left the station.
As Jaehyun disappeared down the hallway, Soobin turned his attention to his father, Sheriff Choi Minho, who was busy shuffling through some paperwork at his desk. "Dad," Soobin called out, his tone casual, "can I get the house key? I need to grab some stuff."
Minho looked up, distractedly pulling the key from his pocket. As he handed it to Soobin, something in the back of his mind clicked, and he glanced in the direction Jaehyun had gone. "What was Jaehyun talking about just now? He mentioned you saved his life."
Soobin shrugged, taking the key from his father’s hand. "Some jocks thought it would be funny to leave him stranded in the middle of the lake. I happened to be there and pulled him out. It wasn’t a big deal."
Minho frowned, his protective instincts flaring up. "Who were these kids? If they’re pulling stunts like that, they need to be held accountable."
But Soobin, unbothered, smirked slightly and shook his head. "Dad, I’m not a '21 Jump Street' snitch. It’s handled. No need to drag the law into it."
Minho sighed, recognizing the resolve in his son’s voice. "Soobin, if you ever feel like something’s not right, you need to tell me. This town… it’s not safe right now."
Soobin met his father’s concerned gaze with a steady one of his own. "I know, Dad. But this wasn’t anything serious. I’ve got it under control."
Minho nodded, though the worry didn’t completely leave his eyes. He watched as Soobin slipped the key into his pocket and headed for the door, his usual calmness in place. But as Soobin left the station, Minho couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that his son was keeping more secrets than he was letting on.
======================================================
The morning sun cast long shadows across the school parking lot as Gunwook’s car pulled into a spot near the entrance. The engine hummed to a stop, and both Gunwook and Sunghoon stepped out, the tension between them thick as they each adjusted their backpacks. Sunghoon, normally reserved, gave a quick nod of thanks to Gunwook as they started toward the school entrance.
"Thanks for the lift," Sunghoon said, his voice casual but edged with something unspoken.
Gunwook glanced over at him, his brow furrowed with concern. "No problem. But, listen… I need to talk to you about something."
Sunghoon paused, sensing the shift in Gunwook’s tone. "What’s up?"
"It’s Yeonjun," Gunwook began, his frustration barely masked. "He still won’t talk to me. I tried reaching out, but it’s like he’s completely shut me out since everything happened."
Sunghoon sighed, nodding in understanding. "Can’t say I blame him, but have you tried just… I don’t know, a heartfelt apology? Like, really laying it all out there?"
Gunwook let out a humorless laugh. "You think that’s all it’ll take?"
Sunghoon grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hell yes! Yeonjun might be mad, but he’s not heartless. You just need to remind him of that."
For the first time that morning, Gunwook’s expression softened into something close to a smile. "Maybe you’re right. I’ll give it a shot."
The two of them started walking together toward the school, the morning air cool against their faces. But halfway there, Gunwook stopped suddenly, his eyes narrowing as he turned to Sunghoon.
"By the way," Gunwook said, lowering his voice, "did you delete those files like I asked?"
Sunghoon’s smile faltered for a brief second before he nodded. "Yeah, I deleted them. They’re gone."
Gunwook gave a short nod of approval before continuing on, walking ahead alone. Sunghoon hesitated for a moment, watching his friend’s back as he disappeared into the throng of students. Just as he was about to catch up, something caught his eye—a streak of red on the ground near his car.
His curiosity piqued, Sunghoon turned and followed the trail of red paint, his heart rate increasing with each step. The paint snaked around the side of the car, leading him to the passenger door. As he rounded the corner, his eyes widened in shock and anger.
Someone had scrawled the word "doo*sh" in bold, dripping letters across the side of his car, the bright red paint stark against the silver finish. Sunghoon’s fists clenched at his sides, his pulse pounding in his ears. The insult was crude, juvenile, but it stung nonetheless.
"Seriously?!" Sunghoon muttered under his breath, his voice shaking with fury. He scanned the parking lot, searching for any sign of the culprit, but the lot was a sea of indifferent faces, none of which showed any hint of guilt.
Gunwook, now a good distance ahead, paused when he noticed Sunghoon wasn’t beside him. He turned back, spotting Sunghoon standing rigidly by his car, staring at the graffiti with a mixture of shock and rage.
"Sunghoon, what’s wrong?" Gunwook called out, hurrying back to him.
Sunghoon barely looked up, his jaw clenched. "Someone thought it’d be funny to vandalize my car."
Gunwook’s eyes widened as he took in the red paint, the ugly word smeared across the car’s side. "Damn… that’s messed up. You have any idea who did it?"
Sunghoon shook his head, still seething. "No, but when I find out…"
Gunwook placed a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder, trying to calm him down. "Hey, we’ll figure it out. Don’t let it get to you—whoever did this just wants to get a rise out of you."
Sunghoon exhaled sharply, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths. "Yeah… yeah, you’re right."
But as they started walking toward the school once more, Sunghoon couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling of being targeted. His mind raced with possibilities, but no answers came. All he knew was that someone out there wanted to mess with him, and he wasn’t about to let them get away with it.
======================================================
The late morning sun cast a somber light over the memorial site outside the school, where a makeshift shrine for Sohee had been set up. Flowers, candles, and photos surrounded the small area, drawing students who wanted to pay their respects or, like Jaehyun and Beomgyu, simply take in the atmosphere of loss that had gripped Lakewood High.
Jaehyun stood with his hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the various offerings left for Sohee. He wasn’t sure how to feel; the emotions swirling inside him were complex and conflicting. Next to him, Beomgyu seemed more detached, his arms crossed as he stared at the memorial with a cold, unreadable expression.
A few feet away, Jaehyun noticed Sung Hanbin, the well-known podcast host, engaged in conversation with one of the teachers. Jaehyun’s interest piqued—he’d been a fan of Hanbin’s true crime podcast for a while, and seeing him in person was almost surreal. As Hanbin wrapped up his conversation, he made his way over to Jaehyun and Beomgyu, a polite smile on his face.
"Hey," Hanbin greeted, his tone warm yet professional. "You guys mind if I join you?"
Jaehyun, recognizing the opportunity, quickly nodded. "Of course. I’m Jaehyun, by the way. Big fan of your work. Your podcast is… well, it’s addictive."
Hanbin’s smile widened, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Thanks, Jaehyun. That means a lot. I’m always glad to meet listeners." His gaze shifted to Beomgyu, who was still staring at the memorial, his expression unchanging. "And you are?"
Beomgyu glanced at Hanbin briefly, then returned his gaze to the shrine. "Beomgyu."
Hanbin nodded, noting the tension in the air. "I wanted to ask you both… what was Sohee really like? Beyond the headlines and the rumors. I’m trying to get a sense of who he was as a person."
Beomgyu’s response was immediate and harsh. "Sohee was a stone-cold bitch who got what he deserved."
Hanbin blinked, taken aback by the bluntness of Beomgyu’s words. He paused, considering his next move, then leaned in slightly. "Can I quote you on that?"
Before Beomgyu could respond, Jaehyun stepped in, his voice firm but not unkind. "No, you can’t."
Hanbin raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the dynamic between the two. "Fair enough. What about you, Jaehyun? What’s your take on Sohee?"
Jaehyun hesitated, the words forming on his lips, but before he could speak, a loud shout echoed across the schoolyard.
"Someone’s ass is toast!"
All three turned toward the source of the commotion. Sunghoon was storming across the parking lot, his face flushed with anger, fists clenched tightly at his sides. His eyes were locked onto a distant figure, and it was clear that whoever it was had done something to push him over the edge.
Jaehyun exchanged a quick glance with Beomgyu, both of them silently agreeing that Sunghoon’s outburst had just interrupted a potentially revealing moment. But as Sunghoon charged forward, Jaehyun felt a wave of relief wash over him. Whatever he had been about to say about Sohee—whatever truths or half-truths—would have to wait.
Hanbin, sensing that the moment had passed, shrugged lightly and gave Jaehyun a nod. "I’ll catch up with you later, Jaehyun. Maybe we can talk more when things calm down."
Jaehyun nodded back, grateful for the reprieve. "Yeah, sure. I’d like that."
As Hanbin walked away, Jaehyun turned to Beomgyu, who still seemed unfazed by the interruption. "You really don’t hold back, do you?"
Beomgyu shrugged. "What’s the point? People want to know the truth, right?"
Jaehyun didn’t respond immediately, his eyes following Sunghoon as he continued to shout threats at someone. "Sometimes," Jaehyun said softly, "the truth’s not what they expect."
======================================================
Jaehyun’s heart raced as he saw Sunghoon storming toward him, fury etched across his face. Without thinking, he grabbed Beomgyu by the arm and tried to steer them both away from the impending confrontation. But Sunghoon was quicker, his long strides closing the distance in a matter of seconds. Before Jaehyun could escape, Sunghoon caught up and slammed him against a nearby wooden column with a force that knocked the breath out of him.
Jaehyun winced, trying to steady himself as Sunghoon’s hand gripped his shirt, bunching the fabric in his fist. Sunghoon’s eyes were blazing, his voice low and menacing as he spat out his words. "Did you think it was funny? Screwing with my car and then making it go viral? That sh*t’s all over the school now!"
Jaehyun’s mind raced as he struggled to form a response. "I-I didn’t—"
Sunghoon wasn’t having it. He leaned in closer, his breath hot on Jaehyun’s face. "You’re dead if I find out you’re lying, Jaehyun. You hear me? Dead."
Jaehyun barely had time to register the threat before Sunghoon delivered a sharp slap to his cheek, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to sting and humiliate. The slap echoed in Jaehyun’s ears, a reminder of the thin line he was treading.
Satisfied with the warning, Sunghoon released him and walked away, muttering curses under his breath. Jaehyun watched him go, his body still pressed against the column as he tried to shake off the shock of the encounter. Beomgyu stepped closer, a hint of amusem*nt in his voice as he broke the tense silence.
"So… you really went with ‘doo*sh,’ huh?" Beomgyu said, raising an eyebrow. "Creative choice, I guess."
Jaehyun shot him a look, still rubbing his cheek where Sunghoon had slapped him. "Yeah, well, spray paint would’ve been a better option. Paint takes forever to dry."
Beomgyu snorted, his lips curling into a smirk. "Spray paint’s faster, sure. But it also smells worse, and I doubt you wanted to give yourself away that easily."
Jaehyun couldn’t help but chuckle, despite the lingering tension in the air. "I didn’t exactly have time to weigh the pros and cons, Beomgyu."
"Still," Beomgyu replied, his tone light, "it was a bold move. Maybe a little too bold, considering you almost got your head taken off just now."
Jaehyun sighed, pushing himself off the column and adjusting his shirt. "Yeah, no kidding. I guess I’ll be watching my back for a while."
Beomgyu gave him a pat on the shoulder, the closest thing to reassurance he could offer. "Just keep your head down and don’t do anything too stupid."
Jaehyun nodded, grateful for the advice, even if it came with a dose of sarcasm. As the two of them began to walk away from the scene, Jaehyun glanced back at Sunghoon, who was now venting his frustration on an unsuspecting locker.
"You think he’ll figure it out?" Jaehyun asked, his voice low.
Beomgyu shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. But if he does, just remember—spray paint next time."
Jaehyun laughed, though it was a nervous laugh, tinged with the fear that had been gnawing at him since Sunghoon had slammed him against the column. "Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind."
As they walked through the schoolyard, the weight of what had just happened lingered between them, a reminder that in Lakewood, nothing was ever as simple as it seemed.
======================================================
The crowded school hallway buzzed with the usual morning energy—students talking loudly, lockers slamming shut, and the ever-present hum of whispers and rumors that had intensified since Sohee’s murder. Yeonjun walked beside Woonhak, their conversation hushed but tense as they navigated through the throngs of students.
"I don’t care what the press says about Eunseok," Woonhak said, his voice tinged with frustration. "I don’t believe he’s a psycho."
Yeonjun nodded, his expression grim. "If he’s innocent, then why doesn’t he just come forward? It’s not like hiding is helping him."
Woonhak sighed, running a hand through his hair as he considered Yeonjun’s words. "I don’t know… Maybe he’s scared. You know how things are around here—people jump to conclusions, and he’s already been painted as the prime suspect."
Before Yeonjun could respond, Gunwook appeared, cutting through the crowd with determined strides. He looked between the two of them before focusing on Yeonjun. "Did you get my texts?"
Woonhak glanced at Yeonjun, then gave Gunwook a sympathetic look. "Good luck," he muttered under his breath, patting Gunwook on the back before heading off to his locker, leaving the two of them alone.
Yeonjun watched Woonhak go, then turned to Gunwook, his tone cool but not dismissive. "Yeah, I got them."
Gunwook seemed relieved that Yeonjun was at least acknowledging him. He took a deep breath, his words spilling out in a rush as they began to walk towards Yeonjun’s locker. "Listen, I need a chance to explain. What happened with Sohee—it wasn’t what you think. He came on to me first. He felt threatened by you, Jun."
Yeonjun stopped in his tracks, his hand freezing mid-reach for his locker. He turned to face Gunwook, searching his eyes for any sign of deception. "Threatened? By me? That doesn’t even make sense, Gunwook."
Gunwook ran a hand down his face, clearly struggling to find the right words. "I know it sounds crazy, but Sohee had this… this obsession with power, right? He saw you as a threat to that, so he tried to mess with us, with me, just to get under your skin. And when I didn’t push him away immediately… well, things got complicated."
Yeonjun’s gaze hardened, memories of the party flashing in his mind—Gunwook’s tense confrontation with Sunoo, the whispered secrets, and now, this new revelation. "Complicated? Gunwook, you should’ve told me before any of this happened. Instead, you let things spiral out of control."
"I know, I know," Gunwook pleaded, his voice growing more desperate. "I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know how to handle it. I never wanted to hurt you, Jun."
Yeonjun’s shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He could see the guilt in Gunwook’s eyes, and part of him wanted to forgive, to move past it all. But another part of him, the part that had been wounded by betrayal, held him back.
After a long pause, Yeonjun finally spoke, his voice quieter, more measured. "I just need time to process all of this, Gunwook. Right now, everything’s a mess, and I’m not sure where to start untangling it."
Gunwook nodded, understanding that he couldn’t push any further. "I get it. Just… please, don’t shut me out. I’m here if you want to talk, whenever you’re ready."
======================================================
Yeonjun’s mood was heavy as he tried to make sense of the conversation with Gunwook. He was still fuming when Soobin walked up, his presence a sudden and unwelcome distraction.
“That’s my locker,” Soobin said coolly, his gaze flicking between Yeonjun and Gunwook. “And I’m pretty sure Yeonjun is done talking to you.”
Yeonjun watched as Gunwook shot a dark look at Soobin before shoving past him and walking away. The tension between them was palpable, and Yeonjun couldn’t help but feel a rush of frustration.
“Do you want dueling pistols?” Yeonjun called after Gunwook, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or are we just going to keep bumping into each other?”
Gunwook didn’t respond, but his shoulders tensed as he walked down the hallway, clearly in no mood for further discussion. Soobin turned to Yeonjun, eyebrows raised.
“Nice touch with the pistols,” Soobin said, smirking slightly. “That’s a new one.”
Yeonjun sighed, leaning against the lockers as he tried to steady his nerves. “I just need to get a grip on things. Everything’s spiraling out of control, and I don’t even know where to start.”
Soobin shrugged, his expression neutral. “Welcome to Lakewood, where chaos is just another day of the week.”
“Yeah, well,” Yeonjun said, rubbing his forehead, “I’m still not used to it.”
There was a brief silence before Soobin glanced at his watch. “I should get going. Just… watch your back, okay? Things are getting ugly.”
“Thanks,” Yeonjun said, though his voice was more subdued than grateful. Soobin gave a short nod and walked away, leaving Yeonjun alone with his thoughts.
As Yeonjun closed his locker, he noticed Beomgyu walking down the hall, heading towards his own locker. Yeonjun hesitated, then walked over, catching Beomgyu just as he was about to open his locker.
“Hey, Beomgyu,” Yeonjun said, his voice tight with unresolved emotions. “Can we talk for a minute?”
Beomgyu looked up, his face a mix of confusion and annoyance. “What is there to say?”
Yeonjun took a deep breath, trying to keep his tone steady. “About the video. I should have stopped Sohee from filming it. I know that now, and I feel guilty about it. I just… I need to know if we can move past this.”
Beomgyu’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of pain crossing his features. “Why should we? Sohee made a fool out of me, and you’re the one who let it happen. Why should I just move on from that?”
Yeonjun’s frustration bubbled to the surface. “Because we’re all stuck in this mess together. I didn’t know how far things would go. I’m sorry. But holding onto this anger isn’t going to fix anything. It’s just going to make it worse.”
Beomgyu’s face remained hard, but there was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. “You think moving on is that simple? Everything’s a mess because of that video. Because of what happened.”
Yeonjun nodded, his gaze steady. “I know. But we need to try, Beomgyu. We need to find a way through this—together. Otherwise, we’re just going to keep tearing each other apart.”
Beomgyu’s expression softened slightly, though he still looked conflicted. “I don’t know if I can just forget about it.”
Yeonjun took a step closer, his voice low but earnest. “I’m not asking you to forget. I’m asking you to at least try to move forward. We all need to if we’re going to get through this.”
The bustling hallway suddenly fell into a sudden hush as students checked their phones, the shock and confusion spreading like wildfire. Yeonjun stared at his phone, his heart pounding as he read the message: “Payback’s a BITCH,” accompanied by a chilling GIF of Ghostface facing the camera with Sohee’s lifeless body floating in the pool in the background. The Brandon James mask was unmistakable.
Beside him, Beomgyu’s eyes widened in horror as he received the same message. “What the hell?” Beomgyu muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Yeonjun’s face turned pale, his hands shaking slightly as he replayed the message over and over in his mind. “This can’t be happening,” he said, his voice barely audible. “How did they get that footage? And why are they doing this?”
Beomgyu’s eyes darted around the hallway, watching as other students began to react with panic and disbelief. “We need to do something,” he said urgently. “We can’t just stand here.”
Yeonjun nodded, his mind racing. “We need to get to the police. They need to know about this—now.”
As the two friends hurried towards the exit, their phones buzzed incessantly with incoming texts and calls, the once-buzzing hallway now filled with frantic whispers and anxious glances. The image of Sohee’s body in the pool, so disturbingly displayed, seemed to loom over them like a dark cloud.
“I can’t believe they’re targeting everyone now,” Beomgyu said, his voice tinged with fear. “This is escalating way too quickly.”
“I know,” Yeonjun replied, his gaze fixed ahead. “And the Brandon James mask… It’s like they’re trying to recreate something from the past. We need to figure out what they’re planning before it’s too late.”
======================================================
As Mayor Taehyung and Sheriff Minho walked briskly into Minho's office, the tension between them was palpable. Minho’s gaze was fixed on the stack of papers on his desk, his mind clearly elsewhere. Taehyung’s voice cut through the quiet hum of the office.
“This is not what the people need right now,” Taehyung said, frustration evident in his tone. “The last thing they should be seeing is that mask.”
“I agree,” Minho replied, his eyes darkening. “We’ve got a tech guy working on it, trying to trace the source of those messages. Hopefully, we’ll have something concrete soon.”
The office door swung open, and Tiffany walked in, her face taut with worry. She had been a prominent figure in the ongoing investigation, but her concern now seemed deeply personal. Minho looked up, his expression softening as he acknowledged her presence.
“Tiffany,” he said, his voice steady but laced with concern. “How are you holding up?”
Tiffany offered a weak smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m managing. But this whole situation with Eunseok being the main suspect... It’s unsettling.”
Minho nodded, his gaze sympathetic. “I know it’s tough. We’re doing everything we can to get to the bottom of it. I want you to know, I’ll protect you through this.”
Before Tiffany could respond, the office phone rang sharply. Minho answered it quickly, his expression shifting to one of grim realization. As he hung up, his face went pale.
“We’ve got another case,” Minho said, his voice strained. “We need to head to the scene right away.”
Tiffany’s eyes widened with alarm. “What happened?”
Minho didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he grabbed his jacket and looked at Tiffany with a troubled expression. “It’s not good. I got a text just now—something you’ll need to see for yourself.”
Tiffany’s anxiety grew as she followed Minho and Taehyung to the front of the station. Taehyung’s face was set in a grim line as he received a message on his phone and quickly scanned its contents. The two of them shared a concerned glance before heading out together.
As they arrived at the location detailed in the message, Minho and Tiffany exchanged glances, their apprehension growing. Minho pulled out his phone and reviewed the text that had set this new case into motion. The message was brief but horrifying: “You’ll find what you need at the old warehouse. Someone's waiting.”
Tiffany’s face went pale as she read the message over Minho’s shoulder. “I don’t like this,” she said, her voice trembling. “Why would they direct us here?”
Minho’s expression hardened. “I don’t know, but we need to be prepared for anything. Stay close, and stay alert.”
As they approached the old warehouse, the sense of dread grew heavier with each step. Minho led the way, his flashlight piercing through the darkness of the building’s entrance. Tiffany followed closely, her thoughts racing as she braced herself for whatever lay ahead.
Inside the warehouse, the shadows seemed to stretch longer than usual, and every creak of the old building felt amplified. Minho’s flashlight flickered across the walls, illuminating eerie graffiti and scattered debris.
Tiffany’s breath caught in her throat as she noticed a figure standing in the dim light, their face obscured by the unmistakable Brandon James mask. The figure was holding a note, which they placed on a nearby table with deliberate slowness.
Minho stepped forward cautiously. “Show yourself. We know you’re here.”
The figure remained silent, their presence a chilling reminder of the terror they had unleashed. Tiffany glanced at the note, her hands shaking as she reached for it. As she unfolded the paper, her eyes scanned the message: “The past is catching up. This is only the beginning.”
The gravity of the note weighed heavily on them. Minho’s jaw tightened as he took in the implications, while Tiffany’s expression turned from concern to determined resolve. They both knew that this new development was far from over and that the cycle of violence and fear was far from complete.
======================================================
Outside the school, Woonhak was absorbed in his phone, his fingers dancing over the screen as he texted furiously. Jaehyun, catching sight of him, sprinted over, his breath slightly ragged from the run.
“Hey, Woonhak!” Jaehyun called out, finally catching up. “Did you see that GIF? It’s everywhere now. Pretty messed up, right?”
Woonhak looked up from his phone, his expression turning serious for a moment. “Yeah, I saw it. It’s pretty disturbing. But we’ll get through it, right? The police are on it.”
“Definitely,” Jaehyun said, trying to sound confident. “I’ve been so distracted by it that I almost forgot about our projects.”
Woonhak chuckled. “Speaking of projects, what are you working on?”
Jaehyun’s face lit up as he described his latest endeavor. “I’m developing an app that lets you explore the universe from your phone. It connects to downtime satellites and lets you tool around in space. Pretty cool, right?”
Woonhak raised an eyebrow, a playful smile forming on his lips. “You know, you could just go outside, lie on the grass, and look up at the stars. It’s almost the same thing.”
Jaehyun laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, but it’s not quite as immersive. Plus, this way you don’t have to worry about light pollution.”
Woonhak’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “True, but sometimes the simplest things are the best. You should try it sometime.”
The way Woonhak said it—casual yet suggestive—caught Jaehyun off guard. He blinked, momentarily speechless. “Um, yeah. Maybe I will.”
Woonhak chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on Jaehyun for a moment longer than necessary. “See you in class, Jaehyun.”
As Woonhak walked away, Jaehyun stood there, his mind reeling. He glanced at his phone, still buzzing with messages, and then back at Woonhak, who was disappearing into the school building.
Jaehyun shook his head with a rueful smile, muttering to himself, “I really need to work on my game.”
The school bell rang, signaling the end of the break. Jaehyun gathered his things, still reflecting on Woonhak’s unexpected hint. As he headed inside, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to their conversation than he initially thought.
======================================================
The classroom was dimly lit, with only the soft glow of the projector illuminating Jaehyun's intense expression as he stood at the front. The students, distracted by the chaos of the last few days, were now somewhat absorbed in his lecture. Jaehyun, with his usual blend of enthusiasm and morbid fascination, delved into his latest topic.
“Alright, everyone,” Jaehyun began, pacing back and forth with a sense of dramatic gravity. “Today’s lesson is about the psychological profile of modern murderers. Specifically, why they feel compelled to showcase their crimes.”
The class shifted their attention from their phones and notebooks, intrigued by the sudden shift in tone. Jaehyun’s eyes glinted with the thrill of discussing his favorite subject.
“The selfie GIF of Sohee’s body in the pool,” Jaehyun continued, “is a perfect example of this phenomenon. It’s not just about the act of killing. It’s about making sure everyone sees it. In today’s society, where every action is broadcasted on Instagram, YouTube, Twitter, and Snapchat, murderers understand that visibility is power.”
He paused for effect, letting the weight of his words sink in. “We live in a world where people crave attention and validation. The more shocking the content, the more it gets shared. And this murderer? They’re no different. They want us to see their work, to acknowledge it, to become a part of their sick spectacle.”
A murmur of agreement and unease rippled through the classroom. Sunoo, sitting next to Yeonjun, raised an eyebrow. “So you’re saying they’re doing this for the attention?”
Jaehyun nodded vigorously. “Exactly. The murder isn’t just about the victims. It’s about creating a narrative, a spectacle that feeds into our need for constant stimulation. The murderer is exploiting our own social media obsession to magnify their terror.”
As Jaehyun spoke, the classroom door creaked open. A flurry of whispers broke out as a teacher entered, carrying a stack of papers. She approached the front of the room and handed Jaehyun a note. Jaehyun’s face paled as he read it, his expression shifting from confident to stunned.
“What is it?” Beomgyu asked, noticing Jaehyun’s sudden change in demeanor.
Jaehyun cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Uh, it seems there’s been some news,” he said, his voice wavering slightly. “Taehyun’s... Taehyun’s been found dead.”
The classroom fell into a stunned silence, the gravity of the news sinking in. Yeonjun’s face turned white, his hand clutching the edge of his desk for support. “Taehyun? Are you serious?”
Jaehyun nodded grimly. “Yes, it’s true. They found him...”
The classroom buzzed with shocked murmurs and questions. “How did it happen?” Sunoo asked, his voice tinged with concern.
Jaehyun swallowed hard, trying to piece together what he knew. “I don’t have all the details yet, but it seems like he was killed in a manner similar to Sohee. The police are still investigating, but it’s clear that the killer is escalating.”
The news hit the students like a wave of cold water, their thoughts racing with fear and confusion. The connection between the victims was undeniable now, and the reality of their situation became more horrifying with each passing moment.
Yeonjun’s mind raced as he processed the information, the implications of Taehyun’s death only deepening the dread he felt. He exchanged worried glances with Beomgyu and Sunoo, each of them grappling with the unfolding nightmare.
======================================================
Yeonjun walked out of the classroom, his mind still reeling from the news of Taehyun’s death. The hallway was abuzz with worried chatter and hushed voices, but Yeonjun’s focus was on finding Beomgyu. Spotting him leaning over a locker, Yeonjun hurried over, hoping to offer some comfort.
“Beomgyu, hey,” Yeonjun said gently, placing a hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Beomgyu flinched at the touch, his body stiffening. He turned to face Yeonjun, his eyes red and swollen with tears. “No, I’m not okay,” Beomgyu’s voice cracked. “I called Taehyun to check up on him, and his mom answered. She said they found him... hanging from his ceiling fan. They think he committed suicide.”
Yeonjun’s heart sank at the grim revelation. “Oh God, Beomgyu, I’m so sorry.”
Beomgyu shook his head, a mix of grief and anger in his expression. “I should have been there for him. I should have done something. It’s my fault.”
“Beomgyu, it’s not your fault,” Yeonjun tried to reassure him, but Beomgyu pushed his hand away, stepping back.
“I need to be alone,” Beomgyu said, his voice breaking as he turned and walked away, his shoulders trembling with each step. He disappeared around a corner, leaving Yeonjun standing alone in the hallway, a heavy sadness settling over him.
As Yeonjun watched Beomgyu leave, he felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness. He leaned against the wall, staring at the floor, trying to process the shock and grief that now surrounded him.
Meanwhile, at the crime scene, Tiffany was meticulously photographing the scene with a look of grim determination. Taehyun’s lifeless body hung from the ceiling fan, a haunting sight that cast a pall over the otherwise ordinary room. The scene was cordoned off, and the air was thick with the tension of investigation.
Tiffany adjusted her camera, her face a mask of professionalism despite the pain in her eyes. She snapped photo after photo, each click of the shutter echoing in the silence of the room. The shadows of the room seemed to deepen with each image captured, the reality of Taehyun’s death becoming stark and unrelenting.
A voice from behind her interrupted the silence. “Tiffany,” called Sheriff Minho as he approached, his face a picture of concern. “How’s it going?”
Tiffany looked up, her expression betraying the strain she felt. “It’s a mess, Minho. We’re dealing with a lot here. Taehyun was found hanging from the ceiling fan. It looks like he might have been murdered to look like a suicide.”
Minho nodded solemnly. “We need to be thorough. The last thing we need is more speculation and fear.”
Tiffany’s eyes were fixed on the photographs she’d taken, each image a stark reminder of the gravity of their situation. “I know. I just... I want to get to the bottom of this. The killer is making a mockery of us, and I won’t stand for it.”
Minho placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “We’ll get through this. We just need to stay focused and work together.”
Tiffany nodded, her resolve hardening. “Let’s make sure we do.”
As they continued their work, the weight of the recent events loomed over them, casting a long shadow over the investigation. The loss of Taehyun was just another chapter in the growing horror of their small town, and the search for answers was far from over.
======================================================
Beomgyu sat outside the principal's office, his posture slumped and his eyes distant. The hallway was quiet, the usual buzz of activity replaced by an uneasy silence. Jaehyun walked over and took a seat beside him, offering a sympathetic glance.
“Hey,” Jaehyun said softly, his voice filled with concern. “I heard about Taehyun. I’m really sorry, Beomgyu.”
Beomgyu glanced at Jaehyun, his eyes red from crying. “Thanks. My dad’s on his way to pick me up. I... I don’t even know what to do right now.”
Jaehyun gently placed his arm around Beomgyu’s shoulders. “Just hang in there. If you need anything, I’m here.”
Beomgyu leaned into Jaehyun’s shoulder, his body trembling slightly. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to face my family. Taehyun was... he was everything.”
Jaehyun offered a quiet, supportive presence, letting Beomgyu lean on him in his moment of grief. “We’ll get through this,” Jaehyun said softly, trying to offer some comfort.
In the school hallway, Sunoo was engaged in a conversation with Yeonjun and Woonhak, his tone casual despite the heaviness of the topic. “So, my friend from St. Peter’s told me Taehyun was a train wreck before all this happened,” Sunoo said, his voice low.
Yeonjun’s face fell, a mix of guilt and anguish washing over him. “I don’t get it. Why did he have to kill himself? It’s my fault. I should have done something.”
Woonhak shook his head, stepping closer to Yeonjun. “Don’t blame yourself, Yeonjun. We were all there with Sohee during the filming. It’s not just on you.”
Yeonjun’s eyes were filled with self-reproach. “But I was there in the parking lot. I saw what was happening, and I let it happen. I should have stopped it.”
Woonhak placed a hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder, trying to offer reassurance. “None of us could have predicted how things would turn out. It’s not just your fault. We all have to deal with this.”
Yeonjun shook his head, tears forming in his eyes. “I can’t... I can’t keep doing this. I need some time alone.” Without waiting for a response, Yeonjun turned and walked away, leaving Woonhak and Sunoo standing in the hallway, watching him go with worried expressions.
As Yeonjun walked down the empty corridor, the weight of his guilt pressed heavily on him. The hallways of the school, once familiar and safe, now felt like a maze of regret and sorrow.
======================================================
Yeonjun worked diligently at the Grindhouse, the hum of the late-night crowd and the clatter of dishes forming a backdrop to his routine. As he approached Hanbin’s table to clear away a plate, he glanced at the journalist, recognizing his face.
“Hey, I think I know you,” Yeonjun said as he collected the plate. “Aren’t you the guy from that podcast?”
Hanbin looked up with a smile, nodding. “That’s right. Sung Hanbin, pleased to meet you. I’ve been following the recent events closely.”
Yeonjun gave a nod, trying to keep his demeanor casual. “Yeah, it’s been a pretty hectic time around here.”
Later, as the Grindhouse quieted down for the night, Yeonjun took out the trash. The cool night air hit his face as he walked towards the dumpster. Suddenly, he heard a rustling noise behind him. Whirling around, he saw a shadowy figure dressed in black with their hood up, sitting on the ground.
Startled, Yeonjun took a step back. Before he could react, the door to the alley shut abruptly, and the figure was gone. His heart raced as he approached the spot where the figure had been, only to see nothing but an empty alley.
Just then, the figure emerged from behind the dumpster, standing up. Yeonjun’s instincts kicked in; he grabbed a 2x4 board leaning against the wall and raised it, ready to defend himself. He started to run towards the figure, but as he got closer, he almost collided with Gunwook, who had appeared out of nowhere.
“Whoa! What are you doing?” Gunwook exclaimed, his eyes wide as he took a step back.
Yeonjun lowered the board, breathing heavily. “What are you doing here?”
Gunwook’s confusion mirrored Yeonjun’s. “I got a message saying to come here. I thought it was from you.”
Yeonjun shook his head, his heart still pounding. “I didn’t send anything. We need to figure out who’s behind this.”
Gunwook nodded, his expression serious. “Yeah, let’s get out of here. We should talk somewhere safer.”
Yeonjun agreed, and together they left the alley, their earlier tension replaced by a shared sense of urgency.
Inside the Grindhouse, the dim light from the overhead fixtures cast a soft glow over Yeonjun and Gunwook as they stood in the break room. Yeonjun had just put away the 2x4 board, and Gunwook was visibly shaken from the encounter outside.
Yeonjun was pacing back and forth, trying to make sense of the night’s events. “I really thought someone was following me,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “And now I’m wondering if Sunoo might have sent that text.”
Gunwook leaned against the counter, looking thoughtful. “You think Sunoo could be behind it? It’s possible, but we should talk to him to be sure.”
Gunwook took a deep breath and looked at Yeonjun with sincerity. “By the way, I’m sorry about what happened with Sohee. I know it’s been tough, and I didn’t mean to add to your stress.”
Yeonjun appreciated the apology, though his mind was still tangled with the events of the night. “Thanks, Gunwook. It’s been hard. And, well, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Gunwook raised an eyebrow, curious. “What is it?”
Yeonjun took a moment, gathering his thoughts before speaking. “At the party... I kissed Soobin.”
Gunwook’s expression hardened. “Oh. I didn’t know that. How do you feel about it?”
Yeonjun shrugged, looking away. “It was complicated. I didn’t plan for it to happen, but it did. I guess I was just looking for some comfort, and Soobin was there.”
Gunwook nodded, trying to understand. “Well, if it helps, I think it’s important to focus on moving forward. Maybe things will clear up with time.”
Yeonjun managed a small smile. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll try to figure things out.”
Gunwook brightened slightly, hoping to offer some distraction. “You know, it would be great if you showed up at my game tomorrow. It might help take your mind off things.”
Yeonjun’s smile widened. “I’ll try to make it. Thanks for the invite.”
As they finished their conversation, the weight of the night’s events seemed to settle into a quiet understanding between them. They both knew the upcoming game might offer a brief respite from the tension, and for now, that was enough to cling to.
======================================================
The cold, sterile environment of the morgue seemed even more somber this morning, lit by the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. Yeonjun carried a coffee cup in each hand as he walked through the quiet halls, trying to bring a small touch of comfort to his mother’s long shift.
He found Tiffany in the autopsy room, her lab coat stained with the day’s work. She was focused intently on Taehyun’s body, her face set in a mask of concentration. As Yeonjun approached, he set the coffees down on a nearby counter.
“Hey, Mom,” Yeonjun said softly, trying to keep his voice steady. “I brought you some coffee.”
Tiffany looked up, her expression softening as she took a moment to acknowledge her son. “Thanks, Yeonjun. I could use a break.”
Yeonjun glanced at Taehyun’s body, noticing the various cuts and marks that marred the young man’s skin. “What’s the story with these marks?” he asked hesitantly.
Tiffany sighed, her gaze returning to her work. “Taehyun was a cutter. He had a history of depression and self-harm. His mother mentioned he’d been struggling with cyber-bullying as well.”
Yeonjun’s heart sank. He swallowed hard, the weight of the situation beginning to press down on him. “I need to tell you something,” he said, his voice trembling. “I was the one who caught Beomgyu and Taehyun that day. I saw everything. I knew about the harassment and the video, but I didn’t do anything to stop it.”
Tiffany’s eyes widened with concern as she looked at her son. “Yeonjun, you didn’t—”
“I did,” Yeonjun interrupted, tears welling up. “I let it happen. I should have stepped in, but I didn’t. I was so caught up in everything that I just… let it go. And now Taehyun is dead. I feel like I’m responsible.”
Tiffany stepped closer, wrapping her arms around Yeonjun in a comforting embrace. “You didn’t cause this, Yeonjun. You’re not to blame for what happened. We all wish we could go back and change things, but sometimes we can’t.”
Outside the morgue, Beomgyu stood alone, his face streaked with tears. He’d overheard parts of the conversation and felt the crushing weight of guilt settle over him. The knowledge that he had contributed to Taehyun’s suffering was unbearable. He stumbled away from the building, trying to escape the suffocating guilt and sadness that had taken hold of him.
======================================================
Sometime later, in the stark, clinical environment of the morgue, Tiffany carefully documented her findings, her focus unwavering despite the emotional strain. Sheriff Minho stood nearby, reviewing some notes while he awaited her assessment.
Tiffany finished examining Taehyun’s body and looked up, her expression serious. “Sheriff, there’s something I need to discuss with you. The injuries on Taehyun don’t quite match up with where he was found. His neck was snapped, which means he must have fallen from a much greater height than his ceiling fan would allow.”
Minho frowned, processing the new information. “So you’re suggesting Taehyun wasn’t killed where he was found?”
“That’s right,” Tiffany confirmed. “It seems like he was moved. The injuries are inconsistent with the scene.”
Minho nodded, taking a moment to absorb the implications. “Anything else you’ve discovered?”
Tiffany hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. “Yeonjun confessed to me that he was aware of the harassment and the video. He said he could have stopped it but chose not to. He feels responsible for not intervening.”
Minho’s eyes narrowed. “That’s significant. If he was aware and could have acted, it might shed light on his involvement or his knowledge of the situation.”
Tiffany shook her head. “Yeonjun’s guilt seems genuine, but we can’t overlook the fact that Taehyun’s death looks like a murder. I’m almost certain he was killed and then placed at the scene.”
Minho placed a reassuring hand on Tiffany’s shoulder. “I appreciate you bringing this to my attention. Take as much time as you need with this case. We need to ensure we’re thorough and accurate with our findings.”
Tiffany nodded, her expression resolute despite the fatigue in her eyes. “I’ll keep working on it. We need to find out who’s behind this and ensure justice for Taehyun.”
As Minho left the morgue to follow up on the new leads, Tiffany remained, her mind racing with the implications of what she had discovered. The mystery surrounding Taehyun’s death seemed to deepen with every piece of evidence she uncovered, and she was determined to unravel it, no matter how difficult the path ahead might be.
======================================================
The crisp, early evening air buzzed with excitement as the crowd gathered for the high school football game. Jaehyun arrived at the stadium, camera in hand, ready to assist Beomgyu with filming the highlights. He was anxious about Woonhak, who hadn’t replied to his messages, and the growing concern about their communication made him a bit on edge.
As Jaehyun set up his equipment by the field, his phone buzzed with a new message. He quickly checked it, his heart lifting slightly at the sight of Woonhak’s name.
Woonhak: "Meet me at the football field. I need to talk."
Relief washed over Jaehyun as he glanced around for Woonhak. A few minutes later, Woonhak approached, his usual calm demeanor giving way to something more earnest.
“Hey, Jaehyun,” Woonhak greeted, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
“Hey,” Jaehyun replied, trying to mask his relief. “You didn’t text me back. I was starting to worry.”
Woonhak gave a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. I just needed to think things over. I didn’t want to rush into anything.”
Jaehyun’s heart raced as Woonhak took a step closer, his gaze intense. “So, what’s on your mind?”
Without further ado, Woonhak leaned in and kissed Jaehyun. The kiss was soft but full of emotion, and for a moment, Jaehyun felt a spark of connection. When they pulled away, Woonhak looked hopeful, but Jaehyun’s mind was a whirlwind of confusion and anxiety.
Meanwhile, at the edge of the football field, Soobin was trying to make his case to Yeonjun, who had just watched the game.
“Yeonjun, I’m telling you, Gunwook is just using you,” Soobin insisted. “He’s playing a game, and you’re caught in it.”
Yeonjun’s brow furrowed as he processed Soobin’s words. “I don’t know, Soobin. Gunwook seemed genuine. I mean, he’s been really supportive.”
Just as Soobin’s words began to resonate with Yeonjun, Gunwook appeared, having caught the end of their conversation. He walked up to Yeonjun, taking his hands in his own.
“Hey,” Gunwook said, a hint of desperation in his voice. “I’m sorry if I’ve been confusing. I really do like you.”
Before Yeonjun could respond, Gunwook kissed him, a kiss that was more insistent than romantic. Yeonjun’s eyes widened in surprise, and he felt a pang of discomfort. As Gunwook pulled back, Yeonjun took a deep breath, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions.
“I… I think I need some time to figure things out,” Yeonjun finally said, his voice steady but firm. “I’m not ready for a relationship right now.”
Gunwook’s face fell, and he nodded, trying to hide his disappointment. “Okay. I understand.”
Yeonjun gave a small, apologetic smile before turning away, his thoughts a jumble of confusion and unease. As he walked away, he could still feel the echoes of the kiss lingering on his lips, and he knew he had to sort through his feelings before he could move forward.
======================================================
Yeonjun was curled up on his couch, absorbed in the flickering images of Friday the 13th. The late hour had cast an eerie stillness over his house, but the sudden blaring of the alarm system shattered the calm.
He shot up from the couch, his heart pounding. The alarm system’s voice chimed in with a cold, mechanical tone: “Intrusion detected. Kitchen door.”
Yeonjun dashed to the kitchen, where the door was indeed wide open, the night air chilling the space. As he fumbled with his phone to call the security company, it rang almost immediately with an incoming call.
“Hello, Yeonjun?” the operator’s voice was smooth but unsettling. “We’ve detected an entry through your kitchen door. An officer is on their way, but it’ll be about three minutes.”
“Please stay on the line with me,” Yeonjun said, trying to steady his voice. “I’m not sure if anyone’s still here.”
“Of course,” the operator replied. “What kind of shows do you enjoy, Yeonjun?”
“Uh, mostly horror,” Yeonjun responded, glancing around nervously. “Why do you ask?”
“Horror, interesting,” the operator said, almost too casually. “It’s a genre that explores fear, don’t you think? You should really embrace it.”
Yeonjun frowned, unsettled by the conversation. “I don’t see why that’s relevant right now. I just need to make sure I’m safe.”
He moved to one of the open windows, noting the draft. As he pushed it shut, the operator’s voice came through again, now tinged with a sinister edge.
“Do you ever wonder, Yeonjun, whether you’ve locked me in or out?”
Yeonjun’s breath caught in his throat. He glanced nervously around, his eyes darting between the open door and the dark corners of his home. The operator’s words felt like a taunt, sending a chill down his spine.
“Hello? Are you still there?” Yeonjun’s voice trembled.
“Yes, I’m here,” the operator replied, calm and chilling. “But I wouldn’t bother calling the police if I were you. I’ve planned everything out meticulously. They’d be of no use at this point.”
Yeonjun’s heart raced. “What do you want from me?”
The voice on the other end was disturbingly calm. “I want to tell you the truth, Yeonjun. I know who you really are, and I know what’s been going on.”
Yeonjun stopped in his tracks, his breath hitching. “What are you talking about?”
“Your mother,” the voice said with an unsettling nonchalance. “She was quite the character, wasn’t she? Her escapades didn’t just stop with her; they’re part of a larger story that involves you.”
Yeonjun felt a cold shiver run down his spine. “What does that have to do with me?”
“It all started with her,” the voice continued, “but it’s going to end with you. You see, your mother’s actions have set the stage for this very moment. Her choices, her secrets—they’ve led to where you are now.”
Yeonjun’s grip on the baseball bat he had retrieved from the garage tightened. He was determined to protect himself, but the fear was palpable. “Why are you doing this?”
The operator’s voice was almost a whisper now, filled with a sinister satisfaction. “Because it’s poetic. The sins of the mother coming to fruition in the life of the son. I wanted you to know the truth before it all comes to an end.”
Before Yeonjun could respond, the call was abruptly disconnected. He stared at the phone in disbelief, his heart pounding in his chest. The oppressive silence of his home now felt even more menacing.
He took a deep breath and gripped the baseball bat tightly, his mind racing with thoughts of his mother’s past and the implications of the call. The house seemed to loom around him, every shadow and creak heightening his anxiety. Yeonjun moved cautiously through each room, checking and rechecking the locks on the doors and windows.
As he reached the living room, the flickering light from the television cast eerie shadows on the walls. The unsettling thought that someone might be hiding in the dark corners of his home made every sound feel like a potential threat. He held the bat defensively, hoping that his anxiety was for nothing and that he was truly alone.
The minutes dragged on as Yeonjun waited, each passing second filled with mounting tension. The fear of the unknown was almost as terrifying as the prospect of facing an intruder. He continued to search the house, his senses on high alert, all the while desperately hoping that the operator's threats were nothing more than a cruel game.
Chapter 3: Wanna Play A Game?
Notes:
“Choose or I choose”
Chapter Text
[Halloween 1994]
The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the field as Karina sprinted through the tall grass. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her heart pounding in her chest. The sound of leaves crunching underfoot echoed around her, blending with the distant howls of the Halloween night.
Suddenly, Karina collided with someone, nearly falling backward from the impact. She looked up and her heart sank. Keeho stood before her, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He had always been a thorn in her side, a bully who thrived on intimidation.
"Lost, Karina?" Keeho taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "You know, he could be anywhere."
Karina’s eyes darted around, fear gripping her as she realized Keeho wasn’t talking about himself. The cold night air stung her skin, and she could almost feel the presence of someone—or something—lurking in the shadows.
Before she could react, a sharp pain seared through her throat. Keeho’s expression twisted into one of shock as he turned around to see blood gushing from the deep slash across Karina’s neck. Her hands instinctively flew to the wound, trying in vain to stem the flow, but it was too late. Her gasps for air were weak, the sound wet and gurgling.
Karina’s vision blurred as she collapsed to the ground, her life slipping away in a matter of moments. The last thing she saw was Keeho’s horrified face before the world faded to black.
Keeho stumbled back, eyes wide with terror. His breathing became erratic as he realized what had just happened. Without thinking, he grabbed a nearby stick, holding it in front of him like a makeshift weapon. The adrenaline surged through his veins as he turned to run, desperate to get away from the horror that had just unfolded.
But the night was unforgiving. His foot caught on something hidden in the grass, and he fell hard onto the ground. Pain shot through his body, but it was nothing compared to the icy dread that settled over him when he looked up.
Ghostface stood before him, the black-robed figure looming like a shadow of death. The mask, with its twisted, screaming expression, stared down at him with an emotionless gaze.
Keeho scrambled backward, his mind racing. "Stay away from me!" he yelled, his voice cracking as he swung the stick wildly.
Ghostface remained silent, taking a deliberate step forward. The crunch of Keeho’s foot beneath Ghostface's boot was the only sound that filled the night air, the sickening noise making Keeho cry out in pain.
He swung the stick again, but this time, Ghostface caught it mid-swing with ease. In one swift motion, the killer wrenched it from Keeho's grasp and turned the weapon against him. The sharp end of the stick was driven into Keeho's eye with brutal force.
Keeho screamed, a blood-curdling sound that echoed across the field, but it was cut short as the stick was thrust deeper. The pain was unbearable, blinding, as blood streamed down his face. His remaining eye rolled back as his body convulsed, the agony too much to endure.
Ghostface twisted the stick one final time, ensuring the life drained from Keeho. The killer stood there, watching as Keeho's body went limp, collapsing onto the cold ground beside Karina’s lifeless form.
The field was silent once more, save for the rustling of the wind through the grass. Ghostface stepped back, surveying the scene with a sense of grim satisfaction before disappearing into the darkness, leaving the bodies to be discovered with the dawn.
======================================================
[Present]
The school hallway buzzed with the usual morning chatter, students weaving in and out of classrooms, some huddled in groups, others walking alone with their heads down. But in one corner of the corridor, a different kind of conversation was taking place. Jaehyun, leaning casually against a locker, was deep in discussion with a reporter who had come to the school to gather information on the recent string of murders that had shaken the small town of Lakewood.
The reporter, a woman in her late thirties with a sharp gaze and a notepad at the ready, listened intently as Jaehyun spoke, his voice low and steady. "You see," Jaehyun began, a slight smirk playing on his lips, "no one just puts on a mask and commits a murder like that only once. It's not a one-and-done deal."
The reporter raised an eyebrow, scribbling down notes. "You're suggesting this is more than just a random act of violence?"
Jaehyun nodded, his eyes darkening as he continued. "Exactly. Whoever's doing this has a plan, a purpose. And the mask? That's not just a disguise—it's a statement. A symbol of something deeper. Brandon James, back in the day, he didn't just snap. He had a reason, even if it was twisted. And this new killer... they have a reason too. It's not just about the murders; it's about the message."
The reporter leaned in, intrigued. "And what message do you think they're trying to send?"
Jaehyun shrugged, though his expression remained serious. "That’s the million-dollar question, isn't it? But I can tell you this: instead of wasting time trying to pin all this on Eunseok—just because he’s an easy target—they should be focusing on the pattern. Because if they don't figure out what this killer wants, it won't be long before we have another body on our hands."
The reporter frowned, the implications of Jaehyun's words sinking in. "So, you believe there will be more victims?"
Jaehyun met her gaze, his tone cold and matter-of-fact. "Of course. Whoever's behind this isn't going to stop. This kind of killer... they're not satisfied with just one or two murders. They're building something, creating a story. And the only way to stop them is to figure out who the next victim will be."
The reporter scribbled down a few more notes, her mind racing. "And do you have any idea who that might be?"
Jaehyun glanced around the hallway, his eyes lingering on the passing students. "It could be anyone," he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "But if I were you, I'd start by looking at the people closest to Sohee and Taehyun. Friends, enemies... even those who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."
The reporter nodded slowly, realizing the gravity of the situation. "Thank you, Jaehyun. This has been... enlightening."
Jaehyun gave her a small smile, though there was no warmth in it. "Just be careful out there. Whoever's doing this—they're not done yet."
As the reporter turned to leave, Jaehyun watched her go, his expression unreadable. The hallway felt colder, darker, as if a shadow had passed over it. And as he stood there, alone with his thoughts, Jaehyun couldn't shake the feeling that the worst was yet to come.
======================================================
Sunghoon trudged through the dense woods, his breath visible in the cool night air. The moonlight barely filtered through the thick canopy of trees, casting long, eerie shadows on the forest floor. He gripped the handle of the shovel tightly, his heart pounding in his chest. He had been out here before, many times, but tonight felt different—there was a sense of urgency that gnawed at him.
He finally reached the spot, a small clearing that looked like any other in the vast expanse of the forest, except for the faintest outline of disturbed earth. Sunghoon knelt down, plunging the shovel into the ground with practiced ease, and began to dig. Each scoop of dirt came away easily, the soil still soft from the last time they had been here. His mind raced as he thought about what he was looking for—what had to be there. But when the shovel struck something solid, he paused, catching his breath.
Sunghoon reached down, brushing away the remaining dirt until the edges of a metal box came into view. His pulse quickened as he pried it open. But as the lid creaked back, his heart sank. The box was empty.
He stared at the barren interior, his hands shaking with frustration. "No, no, no..." he muttered under his breath, tossing the box aside. The cash he, Gunwook, and Eunseok had buried—enough to fund their operation for months—was gone.
Sunghoon wiped the sweat from his brow and stood up, pulling out his phone. He dialed Gunwook's number, pacing back and forth as it rang.
"Sunghoon?" Gunwook's voice came through, slightly muffled.
"It's gone," Sunghoon spat, his voice tight with anger. "The money—we buried it, and it's gone."
There was a pause on the other end, and then Gunwook's calm voice. "Do you think Eunseok took it?"
Sunghoon's eyes narrowed as he looked around the dark forest. "That bastard... I knew he couldn't be trusted."
But Gunwook's next words took him by surprise. "Relax. He didn’t get to it. I did."
Sunghoon stopped pacing. "What? Then where the hell is it?"
Gunwook's tone was matter-of-fact, almost cold. "I had to move it. Things are getting too risky, especially with the cops sniffing around. The operation’s over. We need to shut everything down."
Sunghoon felt a flash of irritation. "Shut everything down? Do you realize how much we’ve put into this? And now you’re just pulling the plug?"
Gunwook sighed, his voice edged with frustration. "Sunghoon, not all of us have rich parents to bail us out when things go south. I can’t keep this going without the funds. It’s done."
Sunghoon clenched his jaw, his free hand curling into a fist. "So where’s the money now?"
Gunwook hesitated before answering. "I’ve got it safe. But unless we close shop and go underground for a while, it’s staying hidden. You want any chance of seeing it again, you do as I say."
The line went silent for a moment as Sunghoon processed Gunwook's words. The frustration of having everything fall apart so quickly gnawed at him, but he knew Gunwook was right. They couldn’t afford to make any more mistakes.
"Fine," Sunghoon finally said, his voice resigned. "We’ll shut it down. But this isn’t over."
Gunwook’s voice softened. "I know. We’ll figure it out. Just... stay out of trouble for now."
Sunghoon hung up, shoving the phone back into his pocket. He took one last look at the empty box, feeling the weight of their situation pressing down on him. Whatever plans they had were slipping through their fingers like sand, and it was only a matter of time before everything came crashing down.
======================================================
The air inside Taehyun's house was heavy with sorrow. The soft murmur of voices, the faint clinking of glasses, and the muted sobs of mourners filled the dimly lit rooms. Beomgyu moved through the crowd, his face a mask of blankness. He didn’t stop to offer condolences or accept the whispered words of sympathy. He had only one destination in mind: Taehyun's room.
The door was slightly ajar, and Beomgyu slipped inside, shutting it quietly behind him. The room was as he remembered it, eerily untouched since Taehyun's death. Beomgyu's gaze was immediately drawn to the ceiling fan, the place where they found Taehyun hanging. A shiver ran down his spine as he stared at it, imagining the horror of that moment.
Slowly, Beomgyu unbuckled his belt, his hands trembling slightly. He approached the fan, looping the belt over one of the blades, forming it into a crude noose. He hesitated, the room closing in around him, suffocating him with the weight of his grief and guilt. He wasn’t sure why he was doing this—maybe to feel closer to Taehyun, to understand what he might have felt, or maybe to prove that something didn’t add up.
Before he could tighten the noose, the door swung open with a creak. Yeonjun stood there, his eyes wide with shock and horror.
"Beomgyu, what the hell are you doing?" Yeonjun's voice was a mix of panic and anger as he rushed forward, grabbing the belt from Beomgyu's hands and yanking it down.
Beomgyu flinched but didn’t resist. He simply looked at Yeonjun, his expression blank, his eyes hollow. "I wasn’t going to do it," he murmured, his voice flat. "I just... I wanted to see if it was even possible. If Taehyun really could have done this."
Yeonjun's grip on the belt loosened, and he stared at Beomgyu, trying to process what he was hearing. "Are you seriously telling me you’re trying to recreate how Taehyun died?" His voice softened, tinged with worry. "Beomgyu, you don’t have to do this. You’re not alone in this, okay?"
Beomgyu shook his head, his gaze drifting back to the fan. "I’m not trying to hurt myself, Yeonjun. I just... I can’t believe Taehyun would do this. It doesn’t make sense. He wouldn’t leave us like that."
Yeonjun hesitated before speaking again, carefully choosing his words. "You’re right. Taehyun didn’t kill himself."
Beomgyu’s eyes snapped to Yeonjun’s, a flicker of hope igniting within them. "What do you mean?"
Yeonjun took a deep breath, his voice low and serious. "I overheard the sheriff talking to my mom. They’re opening a murder investigation. Taehyun didn’t die by suicide. Someone killed him."
Beomgyu’s breath caught in his throat, a mix of relief and dread washing over him. "So, I was right..." His voice wavered. "But who would want to kill Taehyun? Why?"
Yeonjun shook his head slowly, his expression troubled. "I don’t know. But we’re going to find out. We have to, for Taehyun."
Beomgyu nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek. He reached up, wiping it away with the back of his hand, his fingers still trembling. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Thank you for stopping me, Yeonjun."
Yeonjun placed a comforting hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder, squeezing gently. "We’re in this together, Beomgyu. We’ll get to the bottom of this. We’ll make sure whoever did this pays."
For a moment, the two of them stood there in silence, the weight of their grief and determination hanging heavy in the air. Then, with a final glance at the ceiling fan, Beomgyu turned away, following Yeonjun out of the room and back into the mournful hum of the wake.
======================================================
As the night deepened and the mourners at Taehyun's wake slowly dispersed, Yeonjun and Beomgyu found themselves alone in a quiet corner of the house. The events of the past few days weighed heavily on them, and their minds were filled with unanswered questions. Yeonjun glanced around, making sure no one was listening, before leaning in closer to Beomgyu.
"I need to tell you something," Yeonjun began, his voice barely above a whisper. "Something weird happened to me last night. I got a call from my security company—or at least I thought it was them at first. But the guy on the other end... he wasn’t normal. He knew things about me, Beomgyu. Personal things. It was like he was watching me."
Beomgyu frowned, his expression growing serious. "What do you mean, he knew things about you?"
"He talked about my mom," Yeonjun said, his voice tinged with fear. "About how she’s been, you know, with other people. And then he said something about how everything started with her but would end with me. It was like he was trying to mess with my head. When I threatened to call the cops, he didn’t even care. It was like he wanted me to know that he was in control."
Beomgyu's eyes widened, concern etched across his face. "That’s seriously messed up, Yeonjun. Did you tell your mom about this?"
Yeonjun shook his head, looking down at his hands. "I didn’t want to worry her. She’s already dealing with so much because of Taehyun’s case. I didn’t want to add to it."
Beomgyu sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought. "I get that, but this sounds dangerous. What if this guy is connected to Taehyun’s murder? You should at least tell your mom so she can be prepared."
"I don’t know if there’s a connection," Yeonjun admitted, his voice uncertain. "But it feels wrong to just ignore it. What if this guy is the one who killed Taehyun? I need to know why he’s targeting me."
Beomgyu nodded slowly, understanding the fear and frustration in Yeonjun’s voice. "If he’s the same person, then yeah, you need answers. But you can’t just sit on this, Yeonjun. You have to be careful. Maybe you should try messaging him back. See if he responds."
Yeonjun hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I’ll do it. I need to know what he wants, why he’s doing this." He pulled out his phone, the dim light casting shadows on his face as he opened the messaging app. The conversation from the night before was still there, a stark reminder of the terrifying encounter. His fingers hovered over the screen before he finally typed out a message: *I know you killed Taehyun. Why? What do you want from me?*
Beomgyu watched as Yeonjun hit send, the message disappearing into the void. They both waited, the silence between them thick with tension, but no response came. The minutes dragged on, each second feeling like an eternity.
"Nothing," Yeonjun finally said, his voice tinged with disappointment and unease. "He’s not responding."
Beomgyu frowned, his mind racing with possibilities. "Maybe he’s trying to mess with you, or maybe he’s planning his next move. Either way, you need to be on guard. And you should really tell your mom, Yeonjun. She needs to know what’s going on."
Yeonjun nodded reluctantly, knowing Beomgyu was right. "I will. I just... I need to figure this out first. I need to know why this is happening."
Beomgyu placed a reassuring hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder. "We’ll figure it out together. But you’re not alone in this, okay? Don’t keep this to yourself."
Yeonjun managed a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Beomgyu. I appreciate it."
As they stood there, the weight of their conversation lingering in the air, they both knew that the days ahead would be filled with uncertainty and danger. But for now, they had each other, and that was enough to keep them going.
======================================================
The following day, Yeonjun couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that had settled over him since the strange phone call. As he sat in class, his mind wandered, replaying the words the voice had said about his mother. He needed answers, and fast.
During lunch, Yeonjun ran into Soobin by the lockers. Soobin was engrossed in a conversation with a few classmates, but when he saw Yeonjun, he smiled and waved him over.
"Hey, Yeonjun," Soobin greeted him, his tone light. "What’s up?"
Yeonjun hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. "Hey, Soobin. I heard your dad’s been working on the Brandon James files. I was wondering if there was any chance I could, you know, take a look at them?"
Soobin raised an eyebrow, curious but not dismissive. "Why do you want to see them?"
Yeonjun shrugged, trying to downplay his desperation. "Just curious, I guess. With everything that’s been going on, I figured maybe there’s something in there that could help make sense of all this."
Soobin considered it for a moment before nodding. "Sure, I can bring them over to your place after school. My dad keeps them at home, so it shouldn’t be a problem."
"Thanks, Soobin," Yeonjun said, relieved. "I really appreciate it."
Later that afternoon, Soobin arrived at Yeonjun’s house, carrying a stack of old, weathered files. They spread the files out on Yeonjun’s living room table, the papers yellowed with age and filled with handwritten notes, police reports, and newspaper clippings. The air was thick with tension as they began sifting through the documents.
Yeonjun’s eyes scanned the pages, searching for anything that might connect the dots between his mother and Brandon James. His heart raced as he flipped through report after report, finding nothing but dead ends.
But then, just as Soobin was about to leave, he paused, his hand frozen over a particular document. "Wait, Yeonjun, look at this," Soobin said, his voice tight with surprise.
Yeonjun leaned over, his gaze falling on a report that detailed an altercation between his father and Brandon James. The report was sparse on details, but one sentence stood out, as if highlighted by a spotlight: The incident began when Brandon James confronted the girlfriend of the suspect. The girlfriend in question was known at the time as Daisy.
Yeonjun’s blood ran cold as he reread the sentence. "Daisy?" he whispered, his voice shaky. "That’s… my mom?"
Soobin glanced at Yeonjun, his expression filled with concern. "Yeonjun, I had no idea. But it looks like Brandon was obsessed with your mom. That’s why he confronted your dad."
Yeonjun’s mind reeled, pieces of the puzzle slowly clicking into place. The phone call, the stalker’s words, the obsession—it all pointed back to his mother. But the realization only deepened the mystery. Why was Brandon so fixated on his mother? And how did it lead to all of this?
"My mom," Yeonjun muttered, more to himself than to Soobin. "She was Daisy. That’s what this is all about. Brandon was obsessed with her, and now…"
Soobin placed a comforting hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder. "We need to figure out what really happened back then. Maybe it’ll help us understand why this is happening now."
Yeonjun nodded, his thoughts swirling with a mix of fear and determination. "Yeah," he said, his voice firm. "But we need to be careful. If this is connected to what’s happening now, we’re dealing with someone dangerous."
As Soobin packed up the files, he gave Yeonjun a reassuring smile. "We’ll get to the bottom of this, Yeonjun. You’re not alone."
Yeonjun managed a small smile in return, grateful for Soobin’s support. But as Soobin left, and Yeonjun was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of the revelation settled over him like a dark cloud. His mother’s past, his father’s secrets, and Brandon James’s obsession—it all led back to him.
And now, with this new information, Yeonjun knew he was closer than ever to uncovering the truth. But with that knowledge came a terrifying realization: the past wasn’t done with him yet.
======================================================
That evening, the tension between Yeonjun and his mother hung in the air like a storm cloud, thick and heavy with unspoken words. Yeonjun had been pacing in the living room, replaying the discovery from earlier in his mind, trying to piece together the fractured past that had suddenly become so relevant to his present. When Tiffany finally walked into the room, her face was drawn, her usual confident demeanor overshadowed by a look of deep concern.
“Mom,” Yeonjun started, his voice steady but laced with an edge. “We need to talk.”
Tiffany hesitated, but then nodded, knowing this conversation had been inevitable. “What’s on your mind, Yeonjun?”
Yeonjun didn’t waste time. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? About being Daisy, about Brandon James—about any of it?”
Tiffany looked away, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Because I wanted to protect you,” she said quietly. “I didn’t want you growing up with that darkness hanging over you.”
Yeonjun’s frustration bubbled to the surface. “But that darkness didn’t just disappear, Mom. It’s still here, and now it’s coming after me. You can’t just pretend it never happened.”
Tiffany’s eyes flickered with a mixture of guilt and defensiveness. “I was trying to move on, Yeonjun. Trying to put that part of my life behind me so we could have a fresh start. I thought… I thought if I kept it buried, it would stay buried.”
“Mom, someone else knows,” Yeonjun pressed, his voice rising slightly. “Someone who’s been calling me, saying things about you, about what happened back then. You can’t just let this go. We’re in danger.”
At the mention of the phone calls, Tiffany’s expression shifted to one of fear. “You’ve been getting more calls?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What did they say?”
“They know everything,” Yeonjun replied, his tone accusatory. “They know about you, about what happened between you, Dad, and Brandon. And they’re not just trying to scare me—they’re trying to tell me something. But how am I supposed to understand when you’re not telling me the whole truth?”
Tiffany’s hands shook slightly as she tried to maintain her composure. “Yeonjun, I’m doing everything I can to protect you. You have to believe me.”
Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed. “It doesn’t feel like that, Mom. It feels like you’re more concerned about protecting yourself than helping me figure out what’s really going on.”
“That’s not true,” Tiffany insisted, but there was a falter in her voice that Yeonjun couldn’t ignore. “I just… I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“I’m already in the middle of this, Mom. I need answers, not half-truths,” Yeonjun said, his frustration evident. “And it’s not just about me. The sheriff is looking for Dad, and I don’t even know why. You won’t tell me anything, and it’s like you’re hoping it’ll all just go away if we ignore it long enough.”
Tiffany’s face grew pale at the mention of the sheriff. She looked like she was grappling with some internal battle, torn between wanting to protect her son and fearing the consequences of revealing too much.
“Yeonjun… there are things you don’t understand,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “Things that could change everything if they come to light.”
“Then explain them to me,” Yeonjun demanded, his tone softening just slightly. “Please, Mom. I need to know the truth.”
Tiffany met his gaze, her eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and resignation. “Your father… he did things, Yeonjun. Things that I couldn’t forgive. That’s why I left, why I took you with me and tried to start over. But Brandon… he was a part of that past, too. And now, I’m afraid it’s all coming back to haunt us.”
“What did Dad do?” Yeonjun asked, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and curiosity.
Tiffany looked away, tears brimming in her eyes. “It’s not just about what he did, but about what he’s capable of. I never wanted you to see that side of him.”
Yeonjun’s heart pounded in his chest, the pieces of the puzzle still incomplete but beginning to form a clearer picture. “Is he dangerous?”
Tiffany didn’t answer right away, but her silence spoke volumes. Finally, she nodded, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “Yes,” she whispered. “He’s dangerous, Yeonjun. And if the sheriff is looking for him, it’s because he knows that, too.”
The weight of her words settled over Yeonjun like a heavy blanket, suffocating him with the realization that his life was far more complicated—and far more dangerous—than he had ever imagined.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Tiffany said, her voice breaking. “I thought I could protect you by keeping you in the dark. But now… now I see that I was wrong.”
Yeonjun took a deep breath, trying to process everything he had just learned. “So what do we do now?”
Tiffany looked at him, a new determination in her eyes. “We find a way to stop this. Together. I’ll tell you everything you need to know, but you have to promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?” Yeonjun asked, his voice steady.
“You have to be careful,” Tiffany said, her tone pleading. “Whoever is doing this, they’re playing a dangerous game. And I can’t lose you, Yeonjun. Not after everything we’ve been through.”
Yeonjun nodded, the gravity of the situation settling over him. “I promise, Mom. But we need to figure this out. Before it’s too late.”
Tiffany reached out, pulling Yeonjun into a tight embrace. As he held his mother, he felt a new sense of resolve. They were in this together now, and whatever dark secrets lay in the past, they would face them head-on.
But as he pulled away and looked into his mother’s eyes, Yeonjun couldn’t shake the feeling that the worst was yet to come.
======================================================
Jaehyun and Woonhak had planned to spend the day working on their school project, but as soon as Woonhak arrived at Jaehyun’s place, the project was the last thing on their minds. The chemistry between them had been building for weeks, and now, with the house to themselves, it was impossible to ignore.
They started off playing video games, their competitive banter laced with flirtation. Jaehyun teased Woonhak every time he lost, his hand lingering on Woonhak’s shoulder a little too long. Woonhak would shove him playfully, but their laughter would die down as the distance between them closed. Eventually, the games were forgotten as they found themselves entangled on the couch, their lips meeting in a long-overdue kiss.
The day melted away in a haze of soft touches and whispered words. They watched horror movies, Woonhak nestled against Jaehyun’s chest, both of them pretending to be more interested in the film than each other. The scary scenes were just an excuse for Woonhak to bury his face into Jaehyun’s neck, and for Jaehyun to pull him even closer.
As the afternoon sun dipped into the horizon, casting long shadows across the room, they moved to the kitchen. Jaehyun had promised to cook dinner, but as they stood side by side at the counter, the tension between them grew unbearable. The clatter of dishes and the sizzle of food were soon replaced by the sound of their quickened breaths as they found themselves in each other’s arms again, lips locked in a fervent kiss.
“Maybe we should skip dinner,” Jaehyun murmured against Woonhak’s lips, his voice thick with desire.
Woonhak laughed softly, his hands gripping Jaehyun’s waist. “I thought you were a good cook.”
“I have other talents,” Jaehyun replied with a smirk, his eyes dark with intent.
They were lost in the moment, the world outside fading into insignificance. But just as things began to heat up, Woonhak’s phone buzzed on the counter. He ignored it at first, too caught up in Jaehyun’s touch, but when it buzzed again, he reluctantly pulled away to check it.
Jaehyun groaned, clearly displeased by the interruption. “Can’t that wait?”
Woonhak glanced at the screen, his expression shifting from irritation to concern as he read the message. It was from Eunseok. "I need your help. Please, Woonhak, it’s urgent."
A knot of unease tightened in Woonhak’s stomach, but he quickly forced a smile, hoping Jaehyun wouldn’t notice the sudden change in his demeanor. “It’s nothing,” he lied, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Just spam.”
Jaehyun raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced but willing to let it slide for now. “If you say so,” he said, his voice laced with suspicion. “Now, where were we?”
Woonhak tried to push the message from his mind as he leaned in to kiss Jaehyun again, but the nagging worry wouldn’t leave him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong with Eunseok, that the text was more than just a cry for help—it was a warning.
Throughout dinner, Woonhak kept his phone within reach, his thoughts drifting back to the message. Jaehyun noticed Woonhak’s distraction, but chose not to press him about it, though the atmosphere between them had subtly shifted. They still shared smiles and laughs, but there was an undercurrent of tension, as if both of them were aware that the bubble they’d been living in all day was about to burst.
After dinner, they returned to the living room, but the easygoing mood from earlier was gone. Jaehyun tried to draw Woonhak back into the carefree energy they’d shared before, suggesting another round of video games or maybe a different movie. But Woonhak’s mind was elsewhere, replaying the message in his head, wondering what Eunseok could possibly need help with—and why he had chosen to reach out to him of all people.
“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Jaehyun finally asked, unable to ignore the tension any longer.
Woonhak looked at Jaehyun, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he was keeping something from him. But he couldn’t tell Jaehyun about the message—not yet, not until he knew more. So he nodded, forcing another smile. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just… tired, I guess.”
Jaehyun didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he let it go, pulling Woonhak close again, trying to recapture the warmth they’d shared earlier.
Woonhak let himself be held, resting his head against Jaehyun’s shoulder, but his mind was elsewhere, the weight of the secret he was keeping from Jaehyun pressing down on him. He knew he would have to find a way to help Eunseok, but he also knew that doing so would mean keeping Jaehyun in the dark for a little while longer.
As the night wore on, Woonhak made a silent promise to himself: he would help Eunseok, but he wouldn’t let it come between him and Jaehyun. Whatever was going on, he would deal with it—and protect the fragile new connection he had with Jaehyun at all costs.
======================================================
Later that night, as the weight of the day’s events bore down on him, Yeonjun lay in bed, trying to push away the thoughts that had been haunting him. His room was dark, illuminated only by the soft glow of his phone screen as he aimlessly scrolled, trying to distract himself from the anxiety gnawing at his mind. He hadn’t heard from the stalker since his last desperate DM, and he was beginning to hope that maybe, just maybe, it was over. But deep down, he knew better.
The phone rang, shattering the fragile silence of the room. Yeonjun’s heart skipped a beat, dread curling in his stomach. He didn’t need to look at the caller ID to know who it was. He hesitated for a moment, his hand trembling slightly as he brought the phone to his ear.
“Hello?” His voice was barely above a whisper, thick with fear and exhaustion.
The voice on the other end was disturbingly calm, almost casual, as if they were old friends catching up. “Good evening, Yeonjun. I got your message.”
Yeonjun’s breath hitched. “What do you want?” he demanded, trying to sound braver than he felt.
A soft chuckle echoed through the line. “We’ve been through this. I’m here to tell you the truth. But only when you’re ready to hear it.”
“Why won’t you just tell me now?” Yeonjun’s frustration bubbled over. He was tired of the games, tired of the cryptic messages and veiled threats. “I know you killed Taehyun. You said you know things about my mom. If you really want me to trust you, then start talking!”
There was a long pause, and for a moment, Yeonjun thought the caller had hung up. But then the voice spoke again, this time with a chilling edge. “Did Tiffany give you the answers you were looking for?”
Yeonjun felt his pulse quicken. The mention of his mother sent a cold wave of fear washing over him. “What does my mom have to do with this?” he asked, his voice wavering.
“Everything, Yeonjun,” the voice replied, almost sympathetically. “But I suppose she didn’t tell you that, did she?”
“Leave my mom out of this,” Yeonjun snapped, his grip tightening on the phone. “If you hurt her—”
“You’ll do what, exactly?” The voice cut him off, sharp and mocking. “Call the police? Go ahead, but I’ll make sure they find your mother gutted like a fish before they even trace this call.”
Yeonjun’s blood ran cold. His breath came in shallow gasps as the threat hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. He could barely process the words, the implications of what this person was capable of. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
“Because I want you to trust me,” the voice said, softening again, as if trying to soothe him. “And you should, Yeonjun. I’m the only one around here telling you the truth. Everyone else? They’re lying to you, keeping secrets. But not me. I’m the only one who’s being honest with you.”
Yeonjun’s mind raced, torn between the fear of what this person could do and the desperate need to know the truth. He wanted to believe that there was some way out of this, some way to protect his mom and himself. But the longer he stayed on the line, the more trapped he felt.
“What do you want from me?” Yeonjun asked again, his voice breaking.
“Just your trust, Yeonjun,” the voice replied, almost tenderly. “That’s all. And once you give me that, I’ll give you everything you’re looking for. The truth, the answers, all of it.”
There was another pause, and then the voice added, “Sleep well, Yeonjun. We’ll talk again soon.”
Before Yeonjun could respond, the line went dead, leaving him alone in the darkness, the silence of his room now heavy with dread. He sat there for a long time, the phone still pressed to his ear, his thoughts spinning in a chaotic whirlwind. He knew he had to tell someone, but the threat against his mother kept him frozen in fear.
Finally, he set the phone down and pulled his knees to his chest, trying to steady his breathing. He didn’t know what to believe anymore, who to trust, or how to protect the people he cared about. All he knew was that he was in deeper than he ever could have imagined, and the only way out was through whatever twisted game this person was playing.
But as he lay back down, curling up under the blankets, Yeonjun couldn’t shake the feeling that the voice on the other end of the line was right about one thing: everyone else around him was hiding something. And sooner or later, he would have to face the truth, no matter how terrifying it might be.
======================================================
The cafeteria buzzed with the usual noise of lunchtime chatter, trays clattering, and the hum of conversation. Woonhak, however, was laser-focused as he rallied up Sunoo and Yeonjun, pulling them to a quieter corner. His expression was tense, eyes darting around as if expecting someone to overhear.
“I got a text from Eunseok,” Woonhak started, his voice low but urgent. He glanced at his phone, as if re-reading the message in his mind. “He’s asking for our help. He says he didn’t kill Sohee and Taehyun, but he’s scared. He doesn’t think anyone will believe him.”
Sunoo scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the wall. “Of course, he’s scared. That’s what happens when you’re guilty. I got a text from him too, around the same time you did. Told him to turn himself in.”
Woonhak shot Sunoo a glare, frustration flashing across his face. “You don’t know him like I do. Eunseok’s not a killer. He’s just scared out of his mind because he knows he’s being framed.”
Yeonjun, who had been silent up until this point, finally spoke up. “Woonhak, this doesn’t make any sense. This has to be a setup. It might not even be Eunseok texting us. Someone’s messing with us—probably the same person who’s been stalking me.”
Sunoo raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Stalker? What are you talking about?”
Yeonjun glanced around, ensuring no one was within earshot, before lowering his voice further. “I’ve been getting calls from this mystery man. He knows things about me, about my mom, and he’s been sending texts through my number. This guy is dangerous, and he’s setting us up. We can’t trust anything we’re getting from these texts.”
Woonhak’s expression hardened, his jaw clenching. “So, what? You think I should just ignore Eunseok? Let him fend for himself?”
“I’m saying we need to go to the cops,” Yeonjun insisted, his voice firm. “If we get involved in this, we’re just playing into this guy’s hands. He’s manipulating us, Woonhak. We need to be smart about this.”
But Woonhak wasn’t having it. He shook his head, his frustration boiling over into anger. “You don’t understand, Yeonjun. Eunseok’s my friend. If something happens to him because we didn’t help, that’s on us. That’s on you.”
Yeonjun felt a pang of guilt, but he knew he had to stay strong. “And what if this is a trap? What if going to help him puts us all in danger? We can’t just rush into this without thinking.”
Woonhak’s eyes blazed with a mix of fear and anger. “I’m not abandoning him. If you won’t help, fine. But I’m not going to sit around and do nothing.”
Sunoo looked between them, clearly torn but still siding with caution. “Woonhak, Yeonjun might have a point. We need to be careful.”
But Woonhak wasn’t listening anymore. He turned on his heel, storming out of the cafeteria, leaving Sunoo and Yeonjun standing there, the weight of the situation pressing down on them.
Yeonjun sighed, running a hand through his hair as he watched Woonhak disappear down the hallway. “He’s going to get himself hurt… or worse,” he muttered, more to himself than to Sunoo.
Sunoo nodded grimly. “We can’t let him go through with this. We need to figure out what’s really going on before it’s too late.”
Yeonjun knew Sunoo was right, but the fear gnawing at his gut wouldn’t go away. Whoever was pulling the strings was playing a dangerous game, and they were all caught in the middle. As the two of them left the cafeteria, Yeonjun couldn’t shake the feeling that the worst was yet to come.
======================================================
The police station was a flurry of activity as the gang entered, the air thick with the scent of coffee and the murmur of voices. Sheriff Minho, looking stern but resolute, met them in his office. The teens gathered around the desk, their faces a mix of worry and determination.
“So,” Sheriff Minho began, his tone steady, “we’ve traced the texts back to Eunseok’s account. It’s definitely coming from him. This might be our only chance to bring him in and get some answers.”
Yeonjun, standing at the edge of the group, shifted uncomfortably. “So what’s the plan? What can we do?”
Sheriff Minho turned his gaze to Woonhak, his expression softened with a hint of sympathy. “Woonhak, we need you to text Eunseok back. Arrange to meet him in a public place. We’ll have officers waiting nearby to arrest him if necessary. If he’s innocent, he’ll have nothing to hide.”
Woonhak’s face paled, his eyes widening in a mixture of fear and betrayal. “You want me to set up my friend? What if he’s really not the killer?”
Minho’s gaze remained steady. “If Eunseok is innocent, this will be an opportunity for us to clear his name. If he’s guilty, this is our chance to stop him before more harm is done.”
Sunoo, who had been silent up until now, stepped forward. “Woonhak, this is the only way to find out the truth. If you really care about him, you need to help us do this. We can’t let ourselves be fooled any longer.”
Woonhak’s fists clenched at his sides, his internal struggle evident. “But what if I’m betraying him? I don’t want to be responsible for ruining his life if he’s not the killer.”
Yeonjun put a hand on Woonhak’s shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. “We’re not trying to ruin anyone’s life. We’re trying to find out what’s really going on. If Eunseok’s innocent, he’ll be fine. If not, we’re stopping a murderer.”
Woonhak looked at Yeonjun, then at Sunoo, and finally back at Sheriff Minho. The weight of the decision pressed heavily on him. “Alright,” he said finally, his voice trembling slightly. “I’ll do it. I’ll set up the meeting.”
Minho nodded appreciatively. “Thank you, Woonhak. We’ll be ready. Just make sure to keep your phone on and stay in touch with us.”
As Woonhak pulled out his phone, his hands were unsteady as he typed out a message to Eunseok. The words felt heavy and charged with the gravity of their situation.
"Hey, Eunseok. I got your message. I want to help. Can we meet at the park tonight? It’s safer there."
He hit send and looked up at the others, his face a mask of worry and resolve. “It’s done. Now we just wait.”
The gang exchanged uneasy glances, each of them absorbed in their own thoughts. The uncertainty of the situation hung over them like a dark cloud, but there was a flicker of hope that justice would finally be served.
Sheriff Minho placed a reassuring hand on Woonhak’s shoulder. “You’ve done the right thing. We’ll get through this together.”
======================================================
The moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the park as officers quietly positioned themselves around the area. A few yards away, undercover cop Danny, posing as Woonhak, tried to maintain a casual demeanor despite the tension in the air. Nearby, Sheriff Minho and his team watched from their concealed positions, their radios crackling softly with updates.
Sheriff Minho glanced at his watch, noting the time. “Stay alert. Eunseok should be here any minute.”
Suddenly, headlights pierced through the darkness as a vehicle pulled up to the designated meeting spot. A man in his early thirties, dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans, emerged from the car. He hesitated for a moment, scanning the area before making his way towards Danny, who stood by a park bench.
Danny gave a subtle nod, signaling the moment had come. As the man approached, several officers swiftly closed in, surrounding him from all sides. The man’s eyes widened in panic.
“Down on the ground!” one of the officers shouted, as they tackled him to the ground with practiced precision.
The man struggled briefly before he was subdued. Sheriff Minho, who had been watching closely, approached the scene. He knelt beside the restrained man, who was now panting heavily and looking around in bewildered confusion.
“I’m telling you, I don’t know what’s going on,” the man pleaded. “I was just paid $200 to deliver something to a kid. I didn’t even know what it was for.”
Minho frowned and signaled for an officer to retrieve the envelope from the man’s front pocket. The officer handed it to him with a nod, and Minho carefully opened it. Inside was a single photograph of Ghostface, the infamous mask partially obscured by shadows. Underneath the image, scrawled in dark, bold letters, were the words: “Nice try.”
Minho’s face darkened as he read the message. He glanced at the man, his expression hardening. “So, you were just a middleman?”
The man nodded, his face pale. “Yeah, I was just hired to drop off the envelope. I don’t know who sent me the money or who’s behind this. I swear, I’m just a messenger.”
Danny, still playing the role of Woonhak, approached the scene, his face a mixture of frustration and relief. “So it wasn’t Eunseok,” he muttered.
Sheriff Minho stood up, his expression grim. “No, it wasn’t. This is a diversion—a way to mess with us. We need to regroup and figure out the next move. This game isn’t over.”
The man, still on the ground and visibly shaken, was carefully led away by the officers. Minho watched him go, his mind racing with the implications of the message.
“We need to stay focused,” Minho said to his team, his voice resolute. “We’ve been misled, but that doesn’t mean we’re out of options. Let’s get back to the station and analyze this.”
As the officers began to disperse, Danny and Minho exchanged looks of mutual concern. The message was a clear taunt, a reminder that the killer was still out there, and they had just become part of a larger, more twisted game.
======================================================
The night was quiet as Sunoo approached the dimly lit hotel, his thoughts swirling with anticipation. He had received a text earlier that night from an unknown number, directing him to this secluded spot. Sunoo, thinking it was from Jay, his teacher with whom he was having an affair, felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. The idea of meeting Jay here, away from prying eyes, seemed both thrilling and forbidden.
Sunoo entered the lobby, his steps echoing softly on the tiled floor. He made his way to the elevator and pressed the button for the fifth floor. As he rode up, his phone buzzed with another message. Sunoo glanced at the screen, his heart racing when he saw it was from the same unknown number. The message read: “Room 512. I’ve left something for you. Don’t keep me waiting.”
He arrived at Room 512 and hesitated for a moment before knocking. There was no response. Sunoo carefully opened the door, peeking inside to find the room empty. His eyes scanned the room, landing on a neatly folded outfit laid out on the bed. It was a sexy little number—black lace and silk, clearly designed to catch the eye.
Puzzled but intrigued, Sunoo walked over to the bed and picked up the outfit. He held it up, inspecting it with a mixture of curiosity and arousal. His thoughts raced as he wondered if Jay had orchestrated this elaborate setup for their meeting.
Without much hesitation, Sunoo decided to try on the outfit. He slipped into the lace and silk, admiring how it fit his body. As he adjusted it in front of the mirror, he heard the soft click of the door behind him. Startled, Sunoo turned around quickly, his heart pounding. The room remained empty.
Meanwhile, back at the police station, Yeonjun and the others were still processing the night’s events. Yeonjun’s mom had just informed them that Eunseok hadn’t shown up, and the mood was tense. Yeonjun scanned the room, realizing that Sunoo was missing. He turned to Woonhak, his expression troubled.
“Where’s Sunoo?” Yeonjun asked, his voice edged with concern.
Woonhak looked up from his phone, frowning. “I thought he was with us. Did he say anything about where he was going?”
Before Woonhak could respond, Tiffany entered the room, her face lined with worry. “Have you guys seen Sunoo? He’s not answering his phone.”
Yeonjun’s worry deepened. “No, but I just realized he’s not here. We need to find him.”
======================================================
Yeonjun and his mom drove frantically through the streets, their worry escalating with each passing minute. Yeonjun’s heart raced as he scanned the darkened corners of the neighborhood, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sunoo or any sign of where he might be. The night seemed to stretch on endlessly, and with every unanswered call, the fear grew more palpable.
“I don’t understand,” Tiffany said, her voice trembling. “Why isn’t he picking up? We need to find him before it’s too late.”
Yeonjun's fingers gripped his phone tightly as he tried once more to call Sunoo, but the line remained dead. In a moment of desperation, he decided to send another DM to his stalker, hoping for any clue that might lead them to Sunoo.
Yeonjun: "Please, don’t hurt my friends. I’ll do anything. Just tell me where Sunoo is."
Seconds later, Yeonjun’s phone buzzed with an incoming message from the stalker. The reply was quick and unsettling.
Stalker: "You’re the one who wanted to be done with me in the first place. Now I’ve moved on to someone else. You have to choose, Yeonjun. The good boy or the bad boy?"
Yeonjun’s heart sank as he stared at the new messages. The stalker had sent two photos. The first was a picture of Woonhak at the police station, looking intently at his phone. The second was a disturbing image of Sunoo in lace, handcuffed to a bed, blindfolded, and posed in a way that was meant to be provocative and unsettling.
The stark contrast between the images was jarring. Yeonjun felt a knot form in his stomach. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing either of his friends, but the message was clear. He had to make a choice.
Yeonjun: "I can’t make this choice. Please, just don’t hurt Sunoo. He’s innocent."
The response came swiftly, and Yeonjun’s breath caught in his throat as he read the stalker’s chilling words.
Stalker: "By choosing to protect the bad boy, you’ve sealed his fate. Now the good boy must pay the price."
The message hit Yeonjun like a punch to the gut. His hands shook as he stared at the screen, realizing the implications of his decision. He had inadvertently chosen to save Sunoo, which meant Woonhak was now in grave danger.
Panic surged through Yeonjun as he and Tiffany rushed back to the police station. He couldn’t get the image of Woonhak’s face out of his mind, knowing he had to warn him, but time was slipping away.
======================================================
Woonhak sipped his coffee absentmindedly, the warmth of the cup doing little to ease the chill of anxiety that had settled over him. The station was bustling with activity as officers rushed around, handling the aftermath of the failed sting operation. Woonhak’s mind was elsewhere, focused on the messages he had been receiving from Eunseok.
He pulled out his phone and saw a new text from Eunseok.
Eunseok: Why did you go to the cops?
Woonhak sighed, feeling a pang of guilt. He quickly typed a reply.
Woonhak: I didn’t have a choice. I trust you. Please meet me at the station.
The reply came almost immediately, and Woonhak’s heart skipped a beat.
Eunseok: I trust you too. Meet me at the back of the station.
Woonhak’s hope was renewed. He looked around at the bustling police station, the noise and confusion a stark contrast to the quiet alley where he was supposed to meet Eunseok. Ignoring the concern gnawing at him, he headed towards the back of the station, his footsteps echoing softly in the hallway.
As he approached the back exit, the noise from the station faded into silence. Woonhak stepped outside into the dimly lit alley. The streetlights cast long shadows, and the air was cool against his skin. He glanced around, expecting to see Eunseok emerge from the darkness.
“Eunseok?” Woonhak called out, his voice trembling slightly. He took a few cautious steps further into the alley, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of his friend.
The alley was empty, the only sound the distant hum of traffic. Woonhak’s heart began to race as he looked around, trying to make sense of the situation. He checked his phone again, hoping for another message that would explain the delay, but there was nothing.
“Eunseok, are you here?” Woonhak called out again, louder this time. His voice carried through the alley, but there was no response. The silence was unnerving.
Just as he was about to turn back and head towards the station, a figure emerged from the shadows. Woonhak’s heart skipped a beat, but as the figure stepped into the light, he realized it wasn’t Eunseok. It was a man he didn’t recognize, wearing a dark coat and a sinister grin.
“Looking for someone?” the man asked, his voice low and mocking.
Woonhak’s blood ran cold. “Who are you? Where’s Eunseok?”
The man’s grin widened. “Eunseok isn’t coming. You should have known better than to trust him.”
Panic surged through Woonhak. He backed away, his mind racing with fear and confusion. “What do you want?”
The man took a step forward, his expression unreadable. “It’s not what I want. It’s what you’ve brought upon yourself. You and your friends should have stayed out of things that don’t concern you.”
Woonhak’s phone buzzed in his hand, startling him. He glanced down and saw another text from Eunseok.
Eunseok: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please be careful.
The text only added to his anxiety. Woonhak looked up, his eyes locking with the man's silhouette, but the stranger’s gaze remained cold and unfeeling.
“I’m warning you,” Woonhak said, trying to sound braver than he felt. “If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not going to work.”
The man chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I’m not here to scare you. I’m here to make a point. And that point is that you’re in over your head.”
======================================================
As the man steps out of the shadow, Woonhak is greeted by Ghostface.
Woonhak’s heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted through the dimly lit alley. The chill of the night air cut through his sweat-soaked shirt as he shouted for help, his voice echoing off the walls. His breaths came in ragged gasps as he glanced over his shoulder, seeing the shadowy figure of Ghostface closing in.
The masked killer’s footsteps were relentless, a sinister rhythm that quickened Woonhak’s pace. He raced towards the back of the station, hoping to find someone—anyone—who could help. But as he rounded the corner, he realized he was trapped by a high gate blocking the alley. Desperation clawed at him as he spotted a staircase leading up to the rooftop.
Woonhak scrambled up the stairs, his legs burning with effort. He reached the rooftop, a flat expanse of concrete with nowhere to go. The city lights flickered in the distance, casting an eerie glow over the scene. He turned, facing Ghostface, who emerged from the shadows, the knife glinting menacingly in the streetlight.
“Help!” Woonhak yelled, his voice breaking with terror. “Someone, please!”
Ghostface’s movements were methodical, deliberate. The masked figure stepped closer, a chilling calm in the killer’s demeanor. Woonhak backed away, his eyes darting around for any possible escape. The roof was empty, devoid of any shelter.
Ghostface lunged, the knife slicing through the air. Woonhak tried to dodge, but the blade caught him across his arm, a searing pain that made him cry out. He staggered, struggling to stay on his feet, but the killer was relentless. Another slash opened a gash across his side, and Woonhak fell to the ground, gasping for breath.
His vision blurred as he fumbled for his phone. It buzzed in his pocket, and he managed to pull it out with trembling fingers. His screen displayed Jaehyun’s name, and he answered with a weak, shaky voice.
“Jaehyun… call 9-1-1,” Woonhak managed to croak out. His words were barely more than a whisper, his strength fading fast. “Tell them… Ghostface is here… rooftop…”
Jaehyun’s panicked voice crackled through the call, filled with confusion and fear. “Woonhak? What’s going on? Where are you?”
Woonhak looked up at the night sky, his vision darkening. Through his pain, he tried to focus on Jaehyun’s voice. “I… I can see the stars,” he said, his voice trailing off as he lay on the cold rooftop. “Jaehyun… don’t let them win…”
The phone slipped from his grasp as Ghostface approached, the knife still dripping with Woonhak’s blood. Jaehyun’s frantic voice was still coming through, but it was drowned out by Woonhak’s fading consciousness.
As the world around him grew darker, Woonhak’s last thoughts were of the distant stars twinkling in the night sky. The pain ebbed away, replaced by a chilling stillness. Ghostface stood over him, the final moments a blur of shadow and pain.
Chapter 4: Aftermath
Notes:
"I got you"
Chapter Text
Lakewood was gripped by a palpable fear as news spread through the town like wildfire—the death toll had climbed to four young teens. The once quiet, close-knit community was now on high alert, with parents keeping a watchful eye on their children and the streets eerily empty at night. The police, scrambling to make sense of the escalating horror, thought they might finally be close to a resolution when a patrol car came across a crashed vehicle in a ditch just outside of town.
The scene was grim. The car, mangled and half-submerged in the muddy ditch, had clearly veered off the road at high speed. Officers moved cautiously, their flashlights cutting through the darkness as they approached. The air was thick with the smell of gasoline and damp earth, mingling with the scent of something far more sinister.
Sheriff Minho arrived at the scene, his expression grim as he surveyed the wreck. “What do we have?” he asked, his voice heavy with the weight of too many tragedies.
One of the officers, a young man named Officer Lee, stepped forward. “We found a body in the car, Sheriff. It’s… it’s been decapitated. We’re not sure if it’s Eunseok, but given the circ*mstances, it seems likely.”
Sheriff Minho’s face tightened, the lines of worry deepening. “Decapitated? Could it have happened during the crash?”
Officer Lee shook his head, visibly disturbed. “It’s possible, but… the way the body was positioned, it doesn’t seem right. It’s too clean, almost like—”
“Like someone did it on purpose,” the Sheriff finished, his tone grim.
As they continued to examine the scene, another officer, Detective Park, called out from a few feet away. “Sheriff, you’re going to want to see this.”
Sheriff Minho and Officer Lee exchanged a look before heading over to where Detective Park was crouched near the edge of the ditch. The detective held up a muddy object, barely recognizable in the dim light.
It was a mask—the familiar, haunting visage of Brandon James. The sight of it sent a chill through the group, the implications sinking in.
“This was found just a few feet from the car,” Detective Park said, his voice low. “It’s possible Eunseok was wearing it when he crashed, or… someone planted it here.”
Sheriff Minho took the mask, turning it over in his hands as he tried to piece together the puzzle. “If this is Eunseok’s car, and if this mask belonged to him… it would tie him to the murders. But something doesn’t add up.”
“You think someone else could be involved?” Officer Lee asked, his voice tinged with unease.
The Sheriff nodded slowly. “We can’t rule it out. It’s possible that someone wanted us to find this, to believe Eunseok was responsible for everything. But with this many deaths, we need to be certain.”
The discovery of the Brandon James mask near the crash site was enough to send the town into a frenzy of speculation and fear. For some, it confirmed their worst suspicions—that the murders were the work of a deranged copycat, possibly Eunseok. But for others, like Sheriff Minho, the mask only raised more questions than answers.
As the investigation continued, the Sheriff knew that the truth was still out there, lurking in the shadows of Lakewood. And with the body count rising, he couldn’t afford to overlook any detail, no matter how small.
“Get the mask to the lab,” Sheriff Minho ordered. “I want to know if there’s anything on it—DNA, fingerprints, anything that can give us a lead. And find out if the body is really Eunseok. We need answers, and we need them fast.”
The officers nodded, springing into action as the Sheriff stood in the cold night, staring down at the mask in his hands. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were missing something, that the real killer was still out there, watching, waiting for the next move.
======================================================
The town hall was packed with anxious faces, the atmosphere thick with tension. Parents clutched their children close, whispers of fear and uncertainty circulating through the crowd. The murders had shaken Lakewood to its core, and everyone was desperate for answers. The room quieted as Sheriff Minho stepped up to the podium, his expression somber.
He cleared his throat, scanning the crowd before speaking. “Thank you all for coming tonight. I know these past few weeks have been incredibly difficult for our community. We’ve lost four young lives, and I want you to know that we’re doing everything in our power to bring the person responsible to justice.”
The room was deathly silent as the Sheriff continued. “Last night, as many of you may have heard, Woonhak was attacked outside the police station. Despite our best efforts, he succumbed to his injuries before the paramedics could arrive.” There was a collective gasp from the crowd, followed by murmurs of disbelief and sorrow.
“We’ve reviewed the security footage from the station,” Sheriff Minho went on, “and it shows that Woonhak’s attacker was wearing the same mask as the one worn by the person who murdered Sohee. This mask was later found in the wreckage of a car we believe belonged to Eunseok. We are currently running forensic tests to confirm that the body found inside the vehicle is indeed Eunseok’s, but based on the evidence we have so far, we’re confident that we’ve found our suspect.”
The Sheriff paused, letting his words sink in. Some members of the audience nodded in agreement, relieved that the nightmare might finally be over. But others, including Beomgyu and Yeonjun, exchanged uneasy glances.
As the meeting progressed, people began asking questions—about the safety of the town, what steps were being taken to prevent further violence, and how the investigation was progressing. But Beomgyu and Yeonjun, standing near the back of the room, were focused on something else entirely.
“This doesn’t make sense,” Beomgyu whispered, his voice tense. “The timeline, the way things played out… It’s like they want to pin everything on Eunseok, but something’s off.”
Yeonjun nodded, his brow furrowed in thought. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking the same thing. I want this to be over as much as anyone, but… it feels too convenient. Like they’re just trying to close the case and move on.”
“Exactly,” Beomgyu agreed. “Why would Eunseok attack Woonhak right outside the station? And how did he get the mask back after losing it in the crash? The pieces aren’t adding up.”
Yeonjun’s mind raced as he considered the possibilities. “If Eunseok really was the killer, why leave such obvious clues behind? And why does the Sheriff seem so certain it’s him when there are still so many unanswered questions?”
Beomgyu sighed, frustration evident in his expression. “I don’t know, but we need to figure it out. We can’t just accept what they’re telling us. There’s more to this, I’m sure of it.”
The meeting continued around them, but Beomgyu and Yeonjun were lost in their own thoughts, grappling with the growing sense that they were missing something crucial. The Sheriff might be convinced that Eunseok was the killer, but deep down, both boys knew that the truth was far from clear. And until they found the missing pieces of the puzzle, they couldn’t shake the feeling that the real killer was still out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike again.
======================================================
Sunoo was lounging on his bed, scrolling through an array of vibrant nail polish colors on his phone, trying to decide between a bold crimson or a soft pastel blue. It was a rare moment of normalcy amidst the chaos that had consumed Lakewood. He sighed, momentarily forgetting about the horrors that had plagued his town, focusing instead on the small pleasure of a new nail color. Just as he was about to add a bottle of “Scarlet Scream” to his cart, his phone buzzed with a notification.
Assuming it was a harmless message or another sale alert, Sunoo swiped down to check. But what he saw made his blood run cold. His heart pounded in his chest as he opened the notification, his fingers trembling slightly. It wasn’t just another tagged photo or a funny meme. It was something far more sinister.
A poll had been posted on a social media platform, one he was familiar with but rarely used for anything other than mindless scrolling. The title of the poll was sickeningly casual: *“Who’s Next?”* And the options were even worse. It was a vote between him and Yeonjun, a morbid game to see who the town thought would be the next victim in the horrifying string of murders.
Sunoo’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at the screen, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. The poll was gaining traction, comments flooding in from anonymous users, each vote pushing him closer to an end he desperately wanted to avoid. He wasn’t just in the lead; he was winning by a landslide.
“No, no, no…” Sunoo muttered to himself, his voice shaky. He quickly navigated away from the poll, as if not seeing it would make it disappear. But the damage was done; the knowledge was there, and it was gnawing at him. He felt a wave of nausea wash over him. This wasn’t a popularity contest or some cruel prank. This was real, and people were betting on his life.
He immediately dialed Yeonjun’s number, his hands shaking as he waited for his friend to pick up. When Yeonjun’s voice finally came through the speaker, it was a relief, though it did little to quell the fear surging through Sunoo’s veins.
“Yeonjun, have you… have you seen it?” Sunoo’s voice was barely above a whisper, his words trembling with fear.
“Seen what? Sunoo, what’s wrong?” Yeonjun’s tone was laced with concern, and Sunoo could hear the tension in his voice.
“There’s… there’s a poll. People are voting on who’s going to be next. It’s between you and me, and… and I’m winning.” The last words came out as a choked whisper, the reality of his situation sinking in.
Yeonjun cursed under his breath. “Are you serious? Where did you see this?”
“On my phone, just now. It’s all over social media. I don’t… I don’t know what to do.” Sunoo’s voice cracked, the weight of his fear pressing down on him.
“Listen to me, Sunoo,” Yeonjun said firmly, trying to steady his friend. “We’ll figure this out. You’re not alone in this, okay? We’ll talk to the others. They can’t ignore this. We need to stay together, stay safe.”
Sunoo nodded even though Yeonjun couldn’t see him, clutching his phone like a lifeline. “Okay… okay, you’re right. We have to do something. I can’t just sit here and wait.”
“Exactly. We’ll handle this.”
As he hung up the phone, Sunoo tried to steady his breathing. The poll was still out there, people were still voting, but he wasn’t going to let fear paralyze him. With Yeonjun and the others by his side, he would find a way to fight back. This wasn’t a game he wanted to play, but he wasn’t about to let it end with him on the chopping block.
======================================================
When Yeonjun arrived home, the weight of the day’s events hung heavily on his shoulders. The stress of worrying about Sunoo and the unsettling messages from his stalker were beginning to take their toll. As he approached the front door, something out of place caught his eye. A small, nondescript package was sitting on the porch, with no return address or any indication of who might have sent it. A cold chill ran down his spine as he picked it up, the package feeling much heavier in his hands than it looked.
He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. The house was silent, the only sound coming from the ticking of the clock in the hallway. He set the package down on the kitchen table and hesitated for a moment before tearing off the plain brown paper wrapping.
Inside was an old, dusty yearbook. The edges of the pages were yellowed with age, and the cover was worn, as though it had been handled many times before. As Yeonjun opened it, a faint, musty smell filled the air. The yearbook was from his parents' high school years, long before he was born. He recognized the school logo on the first page, confirming it was from the same place his mother had mentioned in passing but had never really talked about.
Yeonjun’s heart raced as he flipped through the pages, the faces of unfamiliar teenagers smiling up at him. But it wasn’t long before he noticed something disturbing. Several of the photos had been cut out, leaving jagged holes where faces should have been. He knew immediately what it meant—these were the victims of Brandon James. The realization made his stomach churn.
He continued flipping through the pages, searching for something, though he wasn’t sure what. Then, he saw it. A photo of his father, young and smiling, surrounded by a group of friends. But unlike the other photos, his father’s wasn’t cut out. Instead, it was violently crossed out with thick, dark ink. The sight of it made Yeonjun’s breath hitch. Underneath the photo, scrawled in the same ink, was a message that sent a shiver down his spine:
*“The truth lies where the mask was made.”*
Yeonjun’s hands trembled as he traced the words with his fingers, trying to make sense of them. His mind raced, piecing together the cryptic message. The mask—was it referring to the Ghostface mask? The same mask that had been haunting his nightmares and plaguing his town with terror?
He stared at his father’s crossed-out photo, a cold dread settling in his chest. Could it be possible that his father had something to do with the creation of the Ghostface mask? The thought was horrifying, yet the message seemed to imply as much. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was more than just a sick game; it was a clue, a piece of a puzzle that was slowly coming together.
Yeonjun swallowed hard, the taste of fear bitter in his mouth. He needed answers, but he wasn’t sure where to start. His mother had been evasive about her past, and now it seemed like his father had secrets of his own—secrets that might be connected to the very thing terrorizing Lakewood.
His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his thoughts. It was a message from Sunoo: *“Are you okay? Did you find out anything new?”*
Yeonjun stared at the screen, his mind racing. He couldn’t tell Sunoo everything—not yet. But he couldn’t keep it to himself either. He quickly typed out a response: *“I found something… I think it’s connected to my dad. I’m not sure what it means yet, but I’ll figure it out. Be careful, Sunoo. We’re all in danger.”*
He sent the message and looked back at the yearbook. The cryptic words echoed in his mind: *“The truth lies where the mask was made.”*
Yeonjun knew he had to dig deeper into his father’s past. The answer was out there, somewhere, and he needed to find it before it was too late. Because if the mask was connected to his father, then it was also connected to him. And that meant he was closer to the truth—and to the killer—than he had ever imagined.
======================================================
The next day at school, Yeonjun couldn’t shake the unease that had settled in his chest since the discovery of the yearbook. The cryptic message scrawled under his father’s photo haunted him, and he knew he had to dig deeper, no matter how dangerous it might be.
He met Beomgyu and Jaehyun in their usual spot near the lockers, the yearbook tucked under his arm. "Guys, I found something last night," Yeonjun began, his voice low as he glanced around to make sure no one was listening. He pulled out the yearbook and flipped to the page with his father’s photo, showing them the crossed-out image and the message underneath.
Beomgyu’s eyes widened as he read the words. "The truth lies where the mask was made? What does that even mean?"
"I’ve been thinking about it all night," Yeonjun said, his voice tense. "And then I remembered something. My mom mentioned the mask before, but she never said where it came from. I need to figure out where it was made. It’s the only lead we have."
Jaehyun, who had been quiet, suddenly spoke up. "I think I know something about that." Yeonjun and Beomgyu turned to him, both sets of eyes focused intently. "I’ve heard rumors... back when all the Brandon James stuff was happening, people said the mask he wore wasn’t just any mask. It was a surgical mask, made specifically for him by a hospital."
"A surgical mask?" Yeonjun repeated, his brow furrowing. "Why would he need a surgical mask?"
Jaehyun nodded. "From what I’ve heard, it was supposed to help keep his disfigured face together. The hospital that made it was closed down a few years ago, but it was notorious for taking on odd cases—stuff that other hospitals wouldn’t touch."
Beomgyu crossed his arms, his expression skeptical. "Are you saying this mask wasn’t just some random thing? That it was designed for him?"
"That’s what the rumors say," Jaehyun confirmed. "The hospital was shut down because of funding issues and a bunch of malpractice lawsuits. It’s been abandoned ever since."
Yeonjun’s heart pounded as he processed the information. "Then that’s where I need to go. If the mask was made there, then maybe there’s something left behind that can give us answers."
Beomgyu immediately shook his head, his expression firm. "You’re not going alone, Yeonjun. This is serious—too serious for you to handle on your own. If you’re going, I’m coming with you."
"Same here," Jaehyun added, his tone resolute. "We’re in this together, remember? We’ve already lost too much. If there’s even a chance that this could lead us to whoever’s behind all of this, then I’m not letting you go alone."
Yeonjun hesitated, the weight of their words pressing down on him. He didn’t want to put them in danger, but he also knew they were right. This wasn’t something he could do alone, and they’d already proven they were willing to risk everything to uncover the truth.
"Alright," Yeonjun finally agreed, his voice steady. "But we need to be careful. We don’t know what we’re going to find there—or who might be watching."
Beomgyu placed a reassuring hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder. "We’ll be careful. We’ll get in, find what we need, and get out. But whatever happens, we do this together."
Yeonjun nodded, feeling a strange mix of dread and determination. "Let’s meet after school. We’ll head to the hospital then."
As they parted ways to head to class, Yeonjun couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. The pieces of the puzzle were slowly coming together, but the picture they were forming was darker and more terrifying than he had ever imagined.
And as they prepared to face whatever secrets the old hospital held, Yeonjun knew that this could be the moment that changed everything—forever.
======================================================
Gunwook sat on the steps outside the school, the acceptance letter from Duke University clenched tightly in his hand. It should have been a moment of pure triumph—a culmination of years of hard work, late nights, and sacrifices. But instead, his chest felt heavy, and his future seemed as uncertain as ever. Getting into Duke was the easy part; figuring out how to pay for it was the real challenge.
Sunghoon appeared beside him, a wide grin on his face as he dropped his backpack on the ground. "Man, I still can’t believe it. Duke! That’s huge, Gunwook."
Gunwook managed a weak smile. "Yeah, it is. But there’s just one problem—my dad won’t cosign for the loans. Says it’s too much of a risk."
Sunghoon’s grin faltered. "What? After all the work you put in, he’s just going to let you miss out on this because of some money?"
Gunwook shrugged, trying to mask his frustration. "He says if I really want it, I’ll figure out a way to pay for it. But the tuition is insane, Sunghoon. Even with scholarships, I’m going to have to come up with a ton of cash every semester. I don’t know how I’m going to pull this off."
Sunghoon leaned back, thinking for a moment. Then, a familiar mischievous glint sparked in his eyes. "You know, there might be a way to get the money you need. And it’s something that could set you up for a long time."
Gunwook raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"
Sunghoon leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "Remember what Sohee and Eunseok started before everything went down? That video they had on that guy—he’s loaded, right? If we play this right, you could make enough to cover all your tuition, maybe even more."
Gunwook frowned, his mind flashing back to the video Sunghoon mentioned. It was something he’d tried not to think about, a dark chapter that seemed to belong to someone else’s life. But now, with the looming reality of college costs, he couldn’t ignore the temptation that Sunghoon was dangling in front of him.
"You mean blackmail," Gunwook said, his voice flat.
Sunghoon shrugged nonchalantly. "Call it what you want, but it’s fast cash. I still have an extra copy of that video. All we have to do is reach out to this guy and let him know that it’s going to cost him if he wants to keep his little secret safe."
Gunwook stared at his acceptance letter, the blue and white Duke emblem staring back at him like a taunt. He wanted this more than anything—more than he could put into words. But he also knew that crossing this line would come with its own set of consequences.
"What if it goes wrong?" Gunwook asked quietly. "What if he doesn’t pay up, or worse, what if he goes to the cops?"
Sunghoon shook his head, confidence radiating from him. "Trust me, he won’t go to the cops. He’s got too much to lose. Besides, we’ll be careful. We’ll make sure there’s no way it can be traced back to us. This is your chance, Gunwook. Don’t let it slip away because you’re too scared to take a risk."
Gunwook bit his lip, his mind racing. He could see his future, so close yet so far away. The promise of a prestigious degree, a bright career, everything he’d ever dreamed of. But the path to get there was murky, tangled with shadows and moral compromises.
"Just think about it," Sunghoon continued, sensing his friend’s hesitation. "We don’t have to decide right now. But this could solve all your problems. And besides, you deserve this—after everything you’ve been through."
Gunwook exhaled slowly, his decision hanging in the balance. He knew Sunghoon was right in some ways—he had been through a lot, and the opportunity to go to Duke was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. But he also knew that getting involved in something like this could change everything, in ways he might not be able to come back from.
"I’ll think about it," Gunwook finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sunghoon clapped him on the back, grinning again. "That’s all I’m asking. Just keep it in mind. We’ll figure it out, one way or another."
As they stood up and headed back towards the school, Gunwook’s thoughts churned. The weight of his future pressed heavily on his shoulders, and for the first time in a long while, he wasn’t sure which path to take. The only thing he knew for sure was that he couldn’t afford to fail—not now, not when he was so close to everything he’d ever wanted.
======================================================
The hospital loomed ahead of them, a decaying relic of the past, its boarded-up windows and crumbling walls a stark reminder of the horrors it once contained. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that danced eerily as Yeonjun and Beomgyu approached the entrance. Armed with only a small stun gun and a crowbar, they steeled themselves for what lay ahead.
"This place gives me the creeps," Beomgyu muttered, his voice tinged with nervousness as he clutched the crowbar tightly.
Yeonjun glanced over at him, trying to maintain a brave front. "We’re here to find answers, remember? If this is where the mask was made, then maybe we’ll finally get some clues about who’s behind all this."
Beomgyu nodded, though his grip on the crowbar didn’t loosen. They pried open the rusted metal door, the hinges creaking loudly in protest. As they stepped inside, the stench of decay hit them like a wave, the air thick with the scent of mold and something far more putrid.
The beam from their flashlight cut through the darkness, revealing a long, dimly lit corridor lined with peeling wallpaper and broken tiles. The hospital had been abandoned for years, yet it felt as though something sinister still lurked within its walls, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself.
They moved cautiously, their footsteps echoing in the hollow silence. It didn’t take long before they stumbled upon something that made their blood run cold—a trail of dark, dried blood smeared across the floor, leading deeper into the hospital.
"Someone was dragged in here," Yeonjun observed, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Dragged to what?" Beomgyu asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.
The trail led them to a door at the end of the corridor. The blood hadn’t stopped, and as they approached, they noticed something even more chilling: a crude drawing of Ghostface, painted in blood, stared back at them from the door.
Beomgyu swallowed hard. "Are we really going to open that?"
"We have to," Yeonjun replied, though the unease in his voice betrayed his own fear. He raised the crowbar and wedged it into the doorframe, prying it open with a grunt.
The door swung open with a creak, revealing a darkened room beyond. The smell that wafted out was nauseating, a mixture of rot and something metallic. They hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, their flashlights sweeping the room.
The first thing they saw made them both recoil in horror—a pig, gutted and mutilated, its heart and head missing, lay on a blood-stained table in the center of the room. The sight was gruesome, the macabre display turning their stomachs.
"What the hell is this?" Beomgyu gasped, his eyes wide with shock.
Yeonjun forced himself to look away from the gruesome sight and flicked the switch on the wall, flooding the room with harsh fluorescent light. As the room lit up, they saw that the walls were plastered with x-rays—x-rays of a disfigured face, one that they recognized from the photos they’d seen. Brandon James.
"This must be where they treated him," Yeonjun said, moving closer to examine the x-rays. "These are from after his surgeries."
Beomgyu’s eyes scanned the room, trying to take in everything at once. "But why would they bring us here? Why show us this?"
As Yeonjun continued to search the room, something on a nearby shelf caught his attention. It was a book, its cover worn and faded with age. He carefully picked it up and flipped through the pages, his eyes widening as he realized what it was.
"It’s a medical journal," Yeonjun said, his voice laced with disbelief. "It details all the surgeries Brandon had. And… look at this." He pointed to a series of sketches—custom-made masks designed specifically for Brandon after each surgery.
Beomgyu leaned over to get a better look, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. "So, the mask wasn’t just some random thing. It was made for him, to keep his face together."
"And someone’s using that knowledge now," Yeonjun added, his mind racing. "Someone who knows exactly what this mask represents, and why it’s so important."
"But why leave this here for us to find?" Beomgyu wondered aloud. "What’s the point of showing us all this?"
Yeonjun shook his head, the weight of the discovery pressing down on him. "Maybe they want us to know how deep this goes. Or maybe… they’re just playing with us."
Before they could ponder the implications further, a noise from outside the room snapped them back to attention. The sound of footsteps echoed through the corridor, growing louder with each passing second.
"Someone’s here," Beomgyu whispered, his heart pounding in his chest.
Yeonjun quickly stuffed the book into his backpack, his adrenaline spiking as the footsteps grew closer. "We need to get out of here. Now."
They backed away from the table, their eyes locked on the door as they prepared to make their escape. But as they turned to leave, the lights in the hospital flickered and then went out, plunging them into darkness.
======================================================
The dim, oppressive silence of the abandoned hospital was shattered by the sudden sound of footsteps echoing through the darkened corridors. Yeonjun and Beomgyu froze, their hearts pounding in their chests as they quickly scanned the room for a place to hide. The footsteps were getting closer—whoever was coming was only moments away.
"Hide!" Yeonjun hissed, pulling Beomgyu toward a shadowy corner behind an overturned table. They crouched low, trying to steady their breathing as the footsteps approached.
The door to the room creaked open, and Yeonjun tightened his grip on the small stun gun he held, ready to defend them both if necessary. The beam of a flashlight cut through the darkness, sweeping the room. The figure stepped inside, the light revealing their features just enough for Yeonjun to recognize who it was.
"Jaehyun?" Yeonjun whispered, his voice barely audible.
Beomgyu let out a sigh of relief, but before either of them could move, Yeonjun accidentally bumped the stun gun against his leg, causing it to crackle menacingly. The sudden noise made Jaehyun jump, and he whirled around, the flashlight briefly illuminating Yeonjun’s and Beomgyu’s hiding spot.
"Whoa, whoa! It’s me!" Jaehyun exclaimed, raising his hands defensively as he realized who was there. "Don’t tase me, bro!"
Yeonjun quickly turned off the stun gun, his heart still racing from the scare. "Jaehyun, what the hell are you doing here?" he asked, stepping out from behind the table.
"I should be asking you the same thing," Jaehyun replied, lowering his hands but still eyeing the stun gun warily. "I saw you guys heading into this creepy place and figured you might need backup. Didn’t think you’d be armed, though."
Beomgyu, still catching his breath from the near-tasing, muttered, "Yeah, well, we didn’t think you were going to sneak up on us like that."
Jaehyun gave them a sheepish grin, then turned his attention to the room. His flashlight scanned the walls, taking in the blood-stained operating table, the gutted pig, and the x-rays of Brandon James’ disfigured face.
"What the hell is this place?" Jaehyun asked, his voice laced with a mix of awe and disgust.
"We think it’s where they made the mask for Brandon James," Yeonjun explained, showing him the medical journal he’d found. "There’s detailed sketches of the custom masks they made for him after each surgery. But something about this whole setup feels off."
Jaehyun nodded, still taking in the grisly scene. "You’re right… this place is too perfect. It’s like someone wanted us to find it."
Beomgyu frowned, not fully understanding. "What do you mean?"
Jaehyun walked over to the blood-painted Ghostface on the door, studying it closely. "Think about it—everything here is staged, like a set. The pig, the x-rays, the blood on the walls… it’s all too convenient. It’s like someone’s trying to create a killer’s lair, but it feels more like a movie set."
Yeonjun’s mind started to connect the dots. "You mean like how A had her lair in *Pretty Little Liars*? Everything meticulously placed to mess with the main characters?"
"Exactly," Jaehyun confirmed, nodding. "This feels like the same thing. Whoever’s doing this isn’t just trying to kill people—they’re playing with us. Setting the stage, leading us on a wild goose chase."
Beomgyu’s eyes widened as he realized what Jaehyun was getting at. "So, all of this… it’s just part of the game?"
Jaehyun nodded, his expression serious. "Yeah. They’re trying to throw us off, make us think we’re getting closer to the truth when really, they’re just leading us deeper into their trap."
Yeonjun clenched his fists, anger bubbling up inside him. "So, what do we do now? We can’t just let them get away with this."
"We need to be smarter," Jaehyun said, his voice calm and focused. "Keep our eyes open, but don’t fall for their tricks. If they’re watching us, we need to make them think they’re still in control, while we work on figuring out who they really are."
======================================================
The dim light from their flashlights danced across the room as Yeonjun, Beomgyu, and Jaehyun cautiously navigated the lair, their senses heightened by the eerie silence. The room was filled with a macabre assortment of items, each one more disturbing than the last. But what caught Yeonjun’s attention were the missing yearbook photos, now hanging on the walls like a twisted gallery of memories. Each photo was marked with a red ‘X,’ a clear indication of the victims’ fates.
“Holy sh*t…” Beomgyu whispered, his voice barely audible. “These are the missing photos… This is where they ended up.”
Yeonjun’s eyes scanned the wall, his heart sinking as he realized that his photo was in the center, circled in red. Below it, the words “The New Star” were scrawled in jagged letters. A chill ran down his spine as he stared at the menacing message. It was clear: he was the next target.
“Why is your photo circled like that?” Jaehyun asked, stepping closer to Yeonjun. “It’s like they’re… focusing on you now.”
“I don’t know,” Yeonjun replied, his voice shaky. “But it’s not good. Whoever did this… they’re coming after me.”
Jaehyun nodded grimly, his gaze shifting to the other side of the room. “Look, there’s something else over there.”
Yeonjun and Beomgyu followed his gaze and saw a laptop sitting on a dusty old desk. The screen was cracked, but the device was still functional. Yeonjun immediately recognized it as Sohee’s laptop—the one that had gone missing after her death.
“This must have everything on it,” Yeonjun said, rushing over to the desk. He opened the laptop and quickly navigated through the files. His suspicions were confirmed when he found folders filled with documents, photos, and videos—files on almost everyone in Lakewood.
“Whoever has this knows everything about us,” Beomgyu murmured, looking over Yeonjun’s shoulder. “This is bad, really bad.”
“We need to get all of this,” Yeonjun said urgently. “But we can’t take the laptop—they might track it. Beomgyu, do you have your SD card?”
Beomgyu nodded and quickly fumbled with his backpack, pulling out a small SD card. He handed it to Yeonjun, who inserted it into the laptop and began transferring the files.
“Come on, come on…” Yeonjun muttered as the progress bar slowly inched forward. Every second felt like an eternity as they anxiously waited for the download to complete.
While the files were copying, Jaehyun continued to search the room. His flashlight passed over an old, worn-out mask hanging on the wall. It was one of Brandon James’ custom-made masks, its features grotesque and haunting. The sight of it sent a shiver down his spine, but he knew they couldn’t leave anything behind.
“Yeonjun, check this out,” Jaehyun called out, pointing to the mask. “It’s one of Brandon’s masks. We need to take it.”
Yeonjun glanced at the progress bar—it was nearly complete. He quickly walked over to the mask and carefully took it off the wall. But as soon as he did, something heavy fell from behind it, hitting the floor with a sickening thud.
The three boys froze, their breaths catching in their throats as they stared down at the object that had fallen. It was a severed head, its lifeless eyes staring up at them. The face was partially decomposed, but it was still recognizable—it was Eunseok.
“Oh my God…” Beomgyu gasped, stumbling back in horror.
Yeonjun felt his stomach churn, but he forced himself to stay focused. “We need to get out of here—now.”
The download finished, and Yeonjun quickly ejected the SD card, shoving it into his pocket. “Let’s go,” he urged, his voice tense with urgency.
They hurried toward the exit, their nerves on edge. As they reached the door, they heard a faint creak behind them—the sound of someone else entering the room. Without looking back, the boys bolted, sprinting down the darkened hallway.
======================================================
As they stumbled out of the decrepit hospital, the boys’ breaths were ragged, their hearts pounding with a mix of fear and adrenaline. The cool night air did little to calm their nerves as they quickly moved away from the ominous building, its darkened windows now feeling like eyes watching their every move.
But just as they thought they had made it out, they were greeted by the piercing glare of headlights. A police cruiser pulled up in front of them, cutting off their path. The boys froze, their stomachs sinking as the door of the cruiser opened and Sheriff Minho stepped out, his expression a blend of stern authority and weary concern.
"Well, well, well," Sheriff Minho said, crossing his arms as he approached them. "Looks like we’ve got ourselves a little thriller party here. Care to explain what you boys were doing in a condemned building at this hour?"
Yeonjun, still clutching the SD card in his pocket, tried to steady his voice. "Sheriff, we weren’t trying to cause trouble. We found something in there… something important."
"Important?" Minho’s eyes narrowed, clearly skeptical. "You realize you were trespassing on private property, right? We got an anonymous tip that someone saw you breaking in."
"Breaking in?" Beomgyu echoed, frustration creeping into his voice. "We didn’t break anything. The place was already open. And whoever tipped you off… they didn’t tell you about all the stuff inside, did they?"
Minho’s expression faltered slightly, curiosity mingling with his suspicion. "What stuff?"
Jaehyun stepped forward, holding up the blood-stained mask they had found. "We found this. One of Brandon James’ old masks. And that’s not all—we found a laptop, yearbook photos, x-rays… It’s like the killer’s lair in there. You guys missed it."
The sheriff’s face hardened, but there was a flicker of something else—was it disbelief or the sudden realization that these kids might have stumbled onto something real? "We did a clean sweep of that hospital weeks ago," he said, though there was an edge of uncertainty in his voice. "We didn’t find anything."
"Then someone moved it all in after you left," Yeonjun insisted. "Sheriff, you need to see it. We’re not making this up. Whoever’s behind these murders is trying to set up a new base—and they’re making us the next targets."
Sheriff Minho studied the boys for a long moment, his eyes flicking between the mask in Jaehyun’s hand and the earnest expressions on their faces. Finally, he sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "Alright," he said, "Show me."
The boys exchanged relieved glances as they led Sheriff Minho back into the hospital, retracing their steps to the lair they had uncovered. The sheriff’s flashlight illuminated the grotesque sight—the hanging yearbook photos, the scattered x-rays, the laptop still glowing faintly on the desk. It was all there, just as they had described.
Minho’s expression darkened as he took in the scene. "Damn it…" he muttered under his breath. "This wasn’t here before."
"No kidding," Beomgyu said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "Looks like we did your job for you."
Yeonjun, sensing the tension, quickly stepped in. "Sheriff, we’re not trying to make things harder for you. But this is real. Whoever did this… they’re planning something big. And we’re all caught in the middle."
Sheriff Minho exhaled slowly, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "You kids need to stay out of this. You’ve already gotten too close. Let the police handle it from here."
Yeonjun shook his head, his resolve firm. "We can’t just sit back and wait to be the next victims. We have to do something."
Minho looked at him, seeing the fear and determination in his eyes. "I understand you’re scared, but this is dangerous. More dangerous than you realize."
"Which is exactly why we need to be involved," Jaehyun added. "We’re the ones they’re targeting. We know more about what’s going on than you think."
For a moment, Sheriff Minho seemed to weigh his options, the lines on his face deepening with the burden of the decisions ahead. Finally, he nodded. "Alright. I’ll bring this back to the station and we’ll comb through everything you’ve found. But you need to promise me you’ll stay out of it from now on. No more playing detective."
The boys nodded, though they knew it was a promise they might not be able to keep. As they left the hospital, the night air felt even colder, the shadows around them growing longer.
"Do you think he’ll really find anything?" Beomgyu asked quietly as they walked back to their car.
Yeonjun didn’t answer immediately. He glanced at the mask he still held in his hand, the weight of it a stark reminder of the danger they were in. "I don’t know," he finally said. "But whatever happens next, we need to be ready."
As they drove away, the image of the severed head, the yearbook photos, and the ominous message in his father’s yearbook haunted Yeonjun’s mind. The truth was out there, buried deep beneath lies and secrets. And he was determined to uncover it, no matter the cost.
======================================================
Yeonjun returned home, feeling the weight of the evening’s revelations pressing heavily on his shoulders. He tried to focus on the new pieces of evidence he’d uncovered, but his mind kept drifting back to the disturbing messages and the unsettling discoveries in the hospital.
Meanwhile, Beomgyu and Jaehyun were back at Jaehyun’s place, their eyes fixed on the laptop screen. The glow of the monitor illuminated their anxious faces as they attempted to make sense of what they had retrieved from Sohee’s laptop.
“Alright, let’s see what we got,” Jaehyun said, his fingers flying over the keyboard. The anticipation in the room was palpable.
Beomgyu hovered over Jaehyun’s shoulder, his heart racing. “I hope it’s something useful. We need answers, not more problems.”
Jaehyun clicked through a few files, cursing under his breath as he navigated Sohee’s password protection. “Damn it, we ejected the card too soon,” he muttered, finally cracking the code with a mixture of skill and luck. “But I think we managed to get at least one file.”
The screen flickered as the file opened, and the room was soon filled with the sound of moaning and gasps. Beomgyu’s face went pale as he recognized the intimate video of Gunwook and Yeonjun. He stumbled back, his discomfort evident.
“Jaehyun, what the hell?” Beomgyu demanded, his voice trembling. “Turn it off!”
Jaehyun’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, panic evident in his eyes. “I’m trying! But—” His eyes widened as he realized what was happening. “No, no, no! It’s uploading!”
“What?” Beomgyu’s voice was almost a whisper as he stared at the screen in horror. “Who’s it uploading to?”
Jaehyun’s face turned white as he frantically tried to stop the upload. “It’s sending to a list Sohee had set up... it’s everyone in Lakewood!”
The screen blinked as the video finished uploading, and the realization of the mistake hit them both like a ton of bricks. The intimate video was now out there, circulating among the town’s residents.
Beomgyu’s face was a mix of shock and fury. “This is a disaster! Do you know how many people just saw that?”
Jaehyun slumped back in his chair, his head in his hands. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I was just trying to get the files.”
Beomgyu paced the room, trying to process the ramifications of their mistake. “We need to do something about this. People are going to find out—”
“Yeah, and we’re going to be the ones blamed for it,” Jaehyun interrupted, his voice filled with regret. “I’m so sorry, Beomgyu. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Right now,” Beomgyu said, taking a deep breath to calm himself, “we need to figure out how to contain this and inform Yeonjun before things get worse.”
Jaehyun nodded, his face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and concern. “Okay, I’ll start by trying to retract the upload. Maybe there’s something I can do to limit the damage.”
Beomgyu grabbed his phone, dialing Yeonjun’s number with trembling fingers. As he waited for Yeonjun to pick up, he glanced at the screen, the video still visible in the corner of his vision.
“Come on, pick up,” Beomgyu muttered, his heart racing. “We need to fix this, fast.”
When Yeonjun finally answered, his voice was weary and strained from the night’s events. “What’s up, Beomgyu?”
“Yeonjun,” Beomgyu said urgently, “we’ve got a huge problem. We accidentally leaked a video... and it’s going to everyone in Lakewood. You need to know before this gets out of hand.”
There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line. “What?” Yeonjun’s voice cracked. “What video? What are you talking about?”
Beomgyu swallowed hard, knowing that the news he was about to deliver would only add to Yeonjun’s already mounting stress. “It’s an intimate video of you and Gunwook. Jaehyun accidentally uploaded it, and it’s being sent to everyone in town.”
Yeonjun’s silence was deafening, his shock palpable even through the phone. “Oh my God,” he finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. “What do we do?”
“We’re trying to fix it,” Beomgyu replied, trying to sound reassuring despite the panic he felt. “Jaehyun’s working on retracting the upload, but we need to prepare for the fallout. I’ll keep you updated, and we’ll figure this out together.”
Yeonjun’s voice was hollow, his fears evident. “Thanks, Beomgyu. I... I don’t even know what to say.”
“We’ll get through this,” Beomgyu said firmly, though he wasn’t sure if he believed his own words. “Just hang tight. We’ll do everything we can to fix this.”
As the call ended, Beomgyu looked at Jaehyun, both of them bracing themselves for the inevitable chaos that was about to ensue.
======================================================
Taehyung sat in his office, surrounded by piles of paperwork that seemed to multiply with each passing hour. The glow of the desk lamp cast long shadows over the stacks of documents as he worked diligently, his fingers flying over the keyboard. The office was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle of papers.
His concentration was abruptly broken by the ping of a new message on his phone. Frowning, Taehyung picked it up and unlocked the screen. His face paled as he read the text:
"It's not over. We want another $100,000 by tomorrow night. No cops involved."
Taehyung’s heart raced. The message was from an unknown number, and the threat was unmistakable. His hand trembled as he typed a response, trying to maintain his composure.
"Who is this? What do you want from me?"
He waited anxiously for a reply. The seconds ticked by slowly, each one feeling like an eternity. Finally, his phone buzzed with another message:
"You know exactly who this is. Pay up, or we’ll come for you next. And don’t even think about involving the police."
Taehyung’s mind raced as he tried to piece together what was happening. He glanced around his office, his thoughts consumed by the threat. He could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.
He leaned back in his chair, trying to steady his nerves. This wasn’t just a random threat—it was personal. And it wasn’t the first time he’d been targeted. He had to figure out how to handle this situation without drawing unwanted attention to himself or his office.
The door to his office creaked open, and his assistant, Minji, stepped in with a stack of files. She looked up, noticing the strained expression on Taehyung’s face.
“Mayor Taehyung, is everything alright?” Minji asked, her voice laced with concern.
Taehyung forced a smile, trying to mask his unease. “Everything’s fine, Minji. Just a bit of extra pressure tonight.”
Minji nodded, placing the files on his desk. “If you need anything, just let me know. I’m here to help.”
“Thank you,” Taehyung said, his voice tight with suppressed anxiety. “I appreciate it.”
As Minji left the room, Taehyung picked up his phone again, his fingers trembling as he considered his options. He knew he couldn’t handle this alone, but involving the police was a risky move. He needed to find a way to resolve the situation without putting himself or his family in further danger.
He took a deep breath, making a decision. He would contact a trusted ally, someone who could help him navigate this crisis without drawing unnecessary attention. With a determined expression, Taehyung dialed a number he hadn’t used in years.
“Hello?” came the voice on the other end of the line.
“It’s Taehyung,” he said quietly. “I need your help.”
The conversation continued in hushed tones as Taehyung laid out the situation, hoping that his old friend could provide the guidance and support he desperately needed. The threat was looming, and Taehyung was running out of time to make the right choices.
As he hung up the phone, he glanced at the message again, the weight of the demand pressing heavily on his shoulders. He knew that the next few hours would be crucial in determining the outcome of this unsettling predicament.
Chapter 5: Exposed
Notes:
"It's a real shame, isn't it?"
Chapter Text
Yeonjun sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone in disbelief. The notification of the video being uploaded had spread like wildfire, and his mind raced as he tried to process the gravity of the situation. His heart pounded as he checked the message thread with Beomgyu and Jaehyun, who were equally in shock. The video was everywhere, and everyone in Lakewood had seen it.
He tried to push past the panic and focus on finding out who had recorded and leaked the video. As he paced the room, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. The caller ID showed an unknown number, but Yeonjun's gut told him it was something more sinister. He answered with a trembling voice.
“Hello?”
The line crackled before a distorted voice came through, dripping with malice. “Hey, Yeonjun. How’s it going?”
Yeonjun’s blood ran cold. The voice was unmistakably Ghostface’s. “What do you want?” Yeonjun demanded, trying to keep his voice steady despite the fear gripping him.
“I see you’re dealing with quite a mess,” the voice taunted. “It’s a real shame, isn’t it? All that private stuff out in the open. Makes you wonder who could be behind it all.”
Yeonjun gritted his teeth. “If you’re the one who leaked the video, just say it. I don’t have time for your games.”
The voice chuckled, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Yeonjun’s spine. “You think you’re so smart. But maybe you’re not as innocent as you’d like to believe. I know a lot about you, Yeonjun. And I know you’re involved in something bigger than you realize.”
“What are you talking about?” Yeonjun asked, his voice cracking. “I don’t have anything to do with this. I just want to know who’s behind it.”
The voice grew more sinister. “Maybe you should look a little closer to home. People aren’t always who they seem. And sometimes, those you trust the most are the ones with the most to hide.”
Yeonjun felt a surge of panic. “Are you saying I’m a suspect? You’re not making any sense.”
“Everything makes sense when you have all the pieces,” Ghostface replied cryptically. “But don’t worry. I’m just here to remind you that no one is truly safe. Especially not you.”
Before Yeonjun could respond, the line went dead. He stared at the phone in disbelief, trying to process the implications of what Ghostface had said. Was he being accused? Was someone setting him up?
He felt a wave of nausea as he realized that his situation was even more complicated than he’d thought. The video was just one piece of a larger, more dangerous puzzle.
Determined not to let fear paralyze him, Yeonjun dialed Beomgyu’s number, hoping his friend could offer some clarity.
“Beomgyu, it’s Yeonjun,” he said urgently when Beomgyu answered. “You won’t believe who just called me. It was Ghostface. And he was hinting that I might be involved somehow.”
“What?” Beomgyu’s voice was filled with shock. “Are you sure it was him? What did he say?”
“He mentioned that I should look closer to home,” Yeonjun explained. “That people aren’t always who they seem, and that I might have more to hide than I think. He made it sound like I could be a suspect.”
Beomgyu’s silence on the other end of the line was heavy with concern. “This is messed up, Yeonjun. We need to figure out who’s behind all of this. And we need to do it quickly. If Ghostface is targeting you, then we’re all in danger.”
“Agreed,” Yeonjun said, feeling a renewed sense of urgency. “Let’s meet up and go through everything we have. We need to find out who’s manipulating us and why.”
As Yeonjun hung up, he glanced at the phone once more, the weight of the situation settling heavily on his shoulders. The threats from Ghostface, the leaked video, and the ongoing investigation all pointed to a web of deceit and danger that was closing in around him. He knew that uncovering the truth was the only way to clear his name and protect himself and his friends from further harm.
======================================================
The vigil was filled with somber faces, a crowd gathered to remember the lost teens and search for solace amid the grief. Flickering candles and tearful whispers created a solemn atmosphere as the community came together to mourn and seek answers.
Yeonjun stood near the back of the crowd, feeling the weight of the past few days pressing heavily on him. His mind was consumed with the latest phone call from Ghostface and the haunting implications of the leaked video. The vigil’s atmosphere was stifling, a constant reminder of the tragedies that had unfolded.
As he scanned the crowd, Yeonjun noticed a new face among the sea of familiar ones—a woman with sharp features and a commanding presence. She was talking to Sheriff Minho, who gestured in Yeonjun’s direction. The woman made her way toward him, her expression a mix of professionalism and concern.
“Yeonjun?” she asked as she approached, her voice calm but authoritative. “I’m Detective Im Yoona. Sheriff Minho and I go way back, and I’ve been brought in to assist with the case.”
Yeonjun nodded, feeling a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. “Hi, Detective Yoona. What can I help you with?”
Yoona offered a reassuring smile. “I’d like to speak with you at the sheriff’s office, if that’s alright. I have some questions regarding the recent events and any information you might have about the case.”
Yeonjun glanced at Sheriff Minho, who gave him a small nod of encouragement. “Sure, I can stop by,” Yeonjun agreed, trying to keep his voice steady. “Is there something specific you need to know?”
Yoona’s eyes softened as she took in Yeonjun’s worried expression. “It’s more about getting a sense of where you’re at with everything. There are a lot of moving pieces, and your perspective could help us understand the connections better.”
Yeonjun nodded, feeling a spark of hope. “Alright, but is it okay if we do it tomorrow? I have a speech tonight."
Yeonjun stood at the front, preparing to give a speech in memory of Woonhak. His heart was heavy, weighed down by the recent tragedies and the looming threat of Ghostface.
As Yeonjun looked out over the crowd, he spotted a figure in a dark hoodie standing at the edge of the gathering. The figure’s gaze was fixed intently on him, sending a shiver down Yeonjun's spine. He tried to shake off the feeling of being watched, focusing instead on the speech he had prepared.
The crowd was silent, their faces illuminated by the candlelight as Yeonjun began to speak. “Woonhak was more than just a friend; he was a light in all our lives. He was kind, funny, and always there when we needed him. We must remember him not for the way he died, but for the way he lived—full of love and laughter.”
Yeonjun’s words were interrupted by the buzz of his phone. He glanced at it, expecting a message from one of his friends, but instead saw a video from an unknown number. The video was of a dimly lit room, and the camera panned slowly to reveal a familiar scene that made Yeonjun's stomach drop. It was a scene from his own home, taken without his knowledge.
Panic surged through him. He quickly scanned the crowd for the figure he had seen earlier but found only the sea of faces, some wet with tears, others tense with unease.
A text followed the video, the message clear and chilling: “If you tell Detective Im Yoona anything about me, your mother’s heart will be delivered to you next. You have been warned.”
Yeonjun’s hands trembled as he read the message. The threat was unmistakable, and the mention of his mother made his blood run cold. He had hoped that the new detective, Im Yoona, might offer a solution or a way out of this nightmare, but now it seemed his choices were more dangerous than ever.
As Yoona walked away, Yeonjun’s mind raced. He had to find a way to protect his mother and himself while trying to navigate the dangerous game Ghostface was playing. He knew that any attempt to seek help from Yoona could put his mother in even greater danger.
He glanced back at the crowd, his gaze searching for the shadowy figure he had seen earlier, but the vigil continued as though nothing was amiss. Yeonjun’s heart pounded with fear and determination. He had to find a way to expose the truth without putting his loved ones at risk.
As he left the vigil, Yeonjun’s thoughts were consumed by the threat he had received and the weight of the choices before him. The looming presence of Ghostface was a constant reminder that the danger was far from over, and the stakes had never been higher.
======================================================
The next morning, Yeonjun found himself seated in the Sheriff’s office, the sterile environment starkly contrasting the chaos he’d been living. Detective Im Yoona sat across from him, her face serious but kind. The room was filled with the hum of a computer and the rustling of papers, the weight of the recent events palpable in the air.
Yeonjun shifted uncomfortably in his chair, trying to keep his nerves in check. He’d agreed to meet with Detective Yoona, but the threats from Ghostface had made him wary of saying too much.
“I appreciate you coming in, Yeonjun,” Yoona began, her tone professional but empathetic. “I know this must be difficult for you.”
Yeonjun nodded, trying to maintain his composure. “It’s been a tough time. I just want to find out who’s behind all of this and why.”
Yoona studied him for a moment before speaking. “I’ve been looking into the case, and there’s something that stands out. The connection between the murders seems to revolve around you and your family. There were clues left behind at the crime scenes that only someone with insider knowledge would recognize.”
Yeonjun’s heart raced. “What do you mean?”
Yoona leaned forward, her gaze intense. “The medical examiner, who’s your mother, found certain anomalies in the bodies that point to someone with a very personal connection to the victims. It’s as if these clues were meant specifically for her to find. Given your family’s involvement in this case, it raises questions about what’s really going on.”
Yeonjun’s mind raced. He had always known that his family’s past was intertwined with the events in Lakewood, but hearing it laid out so clearly was unsettling. “But my mother… she’s just doing her job. She wouldn’t be involved in any of this.”
“I’m not suggesting she’s involved,” Yoona said quickly, “but the clues found at the scenes seem to be leading us back to your family. The only survivor of Brandon James’s killing spree is your father, and now it seems you’re at the center of it all.”
Yeonjun’s eyes widened. “My father? But he’s been out of the picture for years. He doesn’t even live here anymore.”
Yoona nodded. “That’s true, but sometimes the past has a way of catching up with us. And right now, it looks like there’s a thread connecting the past with the present. We need to understand what really happened back then to make sense of these murders.”
Yeonjun felt a knot tighten in his stomach. “So what does this mean for me? Am I in danger?”
“Possibly,” Yoona said, her voice gentle but firm. “You’re in the middle of something that’s deeply rooted in your family’s history. We need to dig deeper into your father’s past and see if there’s anything that could explain the current events.”
Yeonjun took a deep breath, trying to process the information. “What should I do?”
Yoona offered him a reassuring smile. “Continue to be open with us. The more we know, the better we can protect you and find the person responsible. And if you have any information about your father or anything else that seems out of place, don’t hesitate to share it.”
Yeonjun nodded, feeling a mix of fear and determination. “I’ll do whatever I can to help. I just want to end this nightmare.”
As he left the Sheriff’s office, Yeonjun’s thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and dread. The weight of his family’s past was becoming increasingly clear, and the connections between his father, his mother’s work, and the current killings were more disturbing than he had imagined. He had to find answers, not just for himself, but for everyone who had been affected by the tragedy.
Determined to get to the bottom of things, Yeonjun knew that he had to dig into his family’s past, confront his father, and piece together the clues that seemed to tie everything together. The path ahead was fraught with danger, but he had no choice but to follow it.
======================================================
The dim light of the cafe cast shadows across the small table where Sunoo and Sunghoon sat. Sunoo’s fingers fidgeted with his coffee cup, his face etched with a mixture of anxiety and resolve. Sunghoon, leaning back in his chair, was the picture of calm but with a sharp edge of concern in his eyes.
“I can’t keep this up, Sunghoon,” Sunoo said, his voice trembling slightly. “I need to tell Yeonjun the truth about what happened with the tape. It’s eating me up inside.”
Sunghoon’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he considered the implications. “You need to be careful, Sunoo. If Yeonjun finds out without Gunwook knowing, it could complicate things. Gunwook’s already on edge, and he’s got enough going on with his college situation.”
Sunoo shook his head, a mix of frustration and guilt in his eyes. “I know, but it’s wrong to keep lying. He deserves to know the truth about that tape, especially since it’s affecting everything now.”
Before Sunghoon could respond, the door to the cafe opened with a chime, and Yeonjun walked in, his eyes scanning the room. He quickly spotted Sunoo and Sunghoon and made his way over, a look of curiosity and concern on his face.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Yeonjun asked as he approached the table, his voice carrying an edge of urgency. “I couldn’t help but overhear part of your conversation.”
Sunoo’s heart sank, and he glanced nervously at Sunghoon, who gave a subtle nod. Sunoo sighed and turned back to Yeonjun. “Yeonjun, there’s something you need to know about the tape that was released freshman year. It’s about me and Gunwook. We… we weren’t honest with you about it.”
Yeonjun’s brow furrowed, and he took a seat, his attention fixed on Sunoo. “What do you mean? What’s this about the tape?”
Sunoo took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. “The tape wasn’t just some random thing that got out. There was more to it. Sunghoon and I—”
Sunghoon interrupted, his voice firm. “Hold on, Sunoo. We need to be careful about how we handle this. Yeonjun, there’s a lot more to this than what you’re hearing. But before we go any further, you need to understand that this is tied up with everything that’s happening now.”
Yeonjun’s eyes widened, a mix of confusion and anticipation. “What do you mean it’s tied up with everything happening now? How does this tape fit into the murders and everything else?”
Sunoo’s face was a mixture of shame and determination. “The tape was part of a bigger scheme, something that started freshman year and has only gotten worse. It’s connected to the people involved in the current situation, and Gunwook and I have been trying to keep it under wraps because we didn’t want to drag you into it.”
Yeonjun’s expression softened, but his gaze remained intense. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? If there’s something that’s been affecting all of us, I need to know.”
Sunghoon glanced at Sunoo, then back at Yeonjun. “It’s a complicated situation, and it involves a lot of people. We were trying to protect you from getting caught up in the mess, but maybe it’s time you knew the full story.”
Yeonjun nodded, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and understanding. “Alright. I need to know everything. If we’re going to figure out what’s happening and stop it, we need to be honest with each other.”
Sunoo’s shoulders relaxed slightly, relieved to finally be speaking the truth. “Okay. Let’s start from the beginning. We owe it to ourselves and to everyone affected by this mess.”
As the three of them began to discuss the past and the connections between the tape and the current events, the gravity of the situation became even clearer. They were all tangled in a web of deceit and danger, and the truth, however painful, was the only way forward.
======================================================
Sunghoon took a deep breath, his eyes dropping to his hands as he fidgeted with his coffee cup. “Alright, here’s the full story,” he began, his voice steady but laden with guilt. “It all started with Sohee and a bet he made with Gunwook.”
Yeonjun’s curiosity was piqued, his eyes narrowing as he listened intently. “A bet? What does that have to do with anything?”
Sunghoon nodded, glancing at Sunoo for a moment before continuing. “Sohee bet Gunwook that he couldn’t get you to sleep with him within a month. Gunwook took the bet, and… well, he set things in motion to make it happen.”
Yeonjun’s face flushed with a mix of shock and anger. “Wait, are you saying that Gunwook was only trying to get close to me because of some stupid bet?”
Sunoo looked uncomfortable but nodded. “Yeah, that’s what Sunghoon’s saying. Gunwook approached you and invited you to his game, trying to build a connection with you for the sake of winning the bet. It wasn’t supposed to be personal.”
Yeonjun’s fists clenched, his emotions a storm of betrayal and frustration. “So all this time, everything between Gunwook and me was just… a game to him? How could he use me like that?”
Sunghoon’s face was a mask of regret. “I know it sounds awful, Yeonjun, and I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. We were trying to protect you from the fallout, but it’s clear now that you deserve to know the truth.”
Yeonjun’s eyes were cold as he processed the revelation. “So Gunwook knew about this bet and still went through with it? And what about Sohee? Did he know it would come to this?”
Sunghoon shook his head. “Sohee knew about the bet and encouraged Gunwook, but I don’t think he anticipated it going this far. It was a twisted game, and we should have intervened sooner.”
Sunoo spoke up, his voice soft but earnest. “Yeonjun, I understand how betrayed you must feel. But right now, we need to focus on what’s happening and how we can fix it. This bet is just a part of a much larger mess.”
Yeonjun’s gaze hardened. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to look at Gunwook after this. But you’re right, there’s a bigger issue here. If we’re going to deal with what’s going on, I need to know everything, including why all of this has happened.”
Sunghoon nodded solemnly. “We’ll tell you everything we know. The bet might have started this, but there’s a lot more at play here. We need to stick together and figure out the truth.”
Yeonjun took a deep breath, his resolve hardening. “Fine. Let’s get everything out in the open. I want to understand what’s really going on and why we’re all caught up in this nightmare.”
As the three of them sat in the dimly lit cafe, the weight of the secrets they were sharing filled the room. The truth about the bet was just one piece of a much larger puzzle, and they were determined to uncover the rest of it—no matter how painful it might be.
======================================================
Taehyung's heart pounded as he approached the secluded alley where he was to meet his blackmailer. The city lights flickered in the distance, casting eerie shadows on the walls around him. He clutched a briefcase tightly, the weight of its contents pressing heavily on his conscience. The meeting had been set in a place where no one would hear their conversation—a decision made by the masked man who had been extorting him.
As Taehyung arrived, the blackmailer emerged from the darkness, his face obscured by a half-mask. The mask was a stark contrast to the rest of his otherwise ordinary attire—a dark hoodie and jeans. The half-mask, however, was enough to create a chilling effect. Taehyung felt a shiver run down his spine as the masked figure approached him with deliberate steps.
"Good evening, Mayor Taehyung," the blackmailer said, his voice muffled but menacing. "I trust you’ve brought the money?"
Taehyung nodded nervously, opening the briefcase to reveal a substantial sum of cash. "Here it is. I hope it’s enough to settle this."
The blackmailer examined the money with a critical eye, then smirked. "It’s not quite the full amount I requested. You’re short."
Taehyung’s face paled. "I thought this was sufficient. Please, I can get the rest—"
Before he could finish, the blackmailer pulled out a knife and pressed it against Taehyung’s neck. The cold steel sent a jolt of terror through him. "You think you can shortchange me and walk away unscathed? I don’t think so."
Taehyung’s breath quickened. "Please, don’t do this. I can get the rest of the money by tomorrow. Just let me go."
The blackmailer withdrew the knife slightly but kept it in hand. "I’m giving you one more day to come up with the full amount. And let me remind you, I still have the video. This is just a taste of what I can do if you cross me."
From the shadows, Sunghoon and Gunwook watched the exchange unfold, their faces hidden. Sunghoon nudged Gunwook. "We can’t let him walk away with the cash. He’s in deep, and it’s our ticket to getting out of this mess with something to show for it."
Gunwook hesitated, his gaze fixed on Taehyung, who was visibly trembling. "I don’t know, Sunghoon. This is getting dangerous. We could walk away now and leave him to figure it out."
Sunghoon’s eyes narrowed. "And risk losing everything? We’re this close to the finish line. We’ve worked too hard for this to back out now."
Gunwook glanced back at the blackmailer, who was now turning his attention to Taehyung’s pleading. "Alright, but we need to make sure we cover our tracks. This needs to end soon."
Sunghoon nodded approvingly. "We stick to the plan. One more day to get the money, and we use the video as leverage. Once Taehyung has what we want, we take our cut and disappear."
The blackmailer gave Taehyung a final threatening glance before turning away, vanishing into the darkness. Taehyung stood frozen, his hands shaking as he clutched the briefcase.
Sunghoon and Gunwook stepped out of the shadows, their expressions serious. Sunghoon clapped Gunwook on the shoulder. "Time to finalize the plan. We can’t afford to slip up now."
Gunwook nodded, his mind racing. "Alright. Let’s get this over with."
As they walked away, the weight of their actions hung heavily over them. The tension in the air was palpable, and the stakes had never been higher. In the shadows of the city, alliances were tested, and secrets were bartered, all while the truth about the blackmail scheme remained shrouded in darkness.
======================================================
The school was quiet, the hallways echoing with the distant sound of lockers slamming shut and the muffled chatter of students heading to their next class. Beomgyu and Jaehyun moved stealthily through the corridor, their footsteps barely audible against the linoleum floor. They had been waiting for this opportunity for days, watching and biding their time until Jay, the teacher with far too many secrets, finally left his computer unattended.
"Are you sure about this?" Beomgyu whispered, his voice laced with apprehension as they reached the door to Jay’s classroom.
Jaehyun nodded, his expression resolute. "We need to know what he’s hiding. If he’s connected to the murders, we can’t just sit back and do nothing."
Beomgyu hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement. "Alright. Let’s do this."
They slipped into the classroom, the door clicking softly behind them. Jay’s desk was a chaotic mess of papers, notebooks, and pens, but the computer was what they were after. Jaehyun quickly made his way over to the desk and settled into the chair, his fingers already flying across the keyboard.
"Keep watch," Jaehyun instructed, his eyes fixed on the screen as he began to navigate through Jay’s files.
Beomgyu stood by the door, glancing nervously down the hallway to make sure no one was coming. His heart raced as he listened to the faint clicks of the keyboard, the tension in the room growing with each passing second.
After a few moments, Jaehyun let out a low whistle. "You’re not going to believe this," he muttered, his eyes wide as he scrolled through the files.
"What is it?" Beomgyu asked, moving closer to the desk.
"Sunghoon, Woonhak, and Sohee," Jaehyun said, his voice grim. "They all had access to Jay’s computer. There are traces of their logins, and they’ve been snooping around in his files. Looks like they found something they weren’t supposed to."
Beomgyu’s stomach churned at the implication. "You think Jay killed them to keep whatever they found hidden?"
Jaehyun didn’t answer immediately, his focus still on the screen. "It wouldn’t surprise me. A teacher who’s sleeping with his student and hiding all sorts of secrets? Yeah, I wouldn’t put it past him."
Beomgyu felt a cold shiver run down his spine. The thought of Jay, the seemingly charming teacher, being involved in something so sinister made his skin crawl. "What did they find?"
Jaehyun’s eyes narrowed as he opened a file marked with Sohee’s name. "Looks like they found some dirt on him—emails, photos, maybe even more. Whatever it is, it’s enough to ruin him. And if they confronted him with this…"
"He’d have a motive to kill them," Beomgyu finished, his voice barely above a whisper.
The two boys exchanged a glance, the gravity of their discovery sinking in. The realization that they were possibly dealing with a killer sent a wave of fear through both of them.
Jaehyun quickly copied some of the files onto a USB drive, his hands shaking slightly. "We need to get out of here before he comes back. We can’t let him know we’ve seen this."
Beomgyu nodded, his heart pounding as he kept a vigilant eye on the door. "Hurry up, Jaehyun. We’ve already been here too long."
Jaehyun finished copying the files and quickly shut down the computer, wiping away any traces of their intrusion. They moved swiftly, slipping out of the classroom and back into the hallway just as the bell rang, signaling the end of the period.
As they merged into the throng of students, Beomgyu couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that clung to him. They had uncovered something dark, something that could have serious consequences.
"We have to tell Yeonjun," Beomgyu said quietly as they walked. "He needs to know what we found."
Jaehyun nodded in agreement. "We need to be careful, though. If Jay finds out we know…"
Beomgyu didn’t need him to finish the sentence. The danger was clear, and the stakes were higher than ever. They had uncovered a secret that could blow the whole case wide open, but it also put them squarely in the crosshairs of a killer.
As they made their way to find Yeonjun, the weight of their discovery hung heavy between them, a silent reminder that in Lakewood, no one was safe, and the line between victim and predator was disturbingly thin.
======================================================
The hallway was eerily quiet as Yeonjun stood in front of Gunwook, his eyes cold and distant. The tension between them was palpable, thickening the air around them. Gunwook’s face was a mix of frustration and desperation, but Yeonjun’s expression remained unreadable, a mask of resolve that betrayed nothing of the turmoil inside him.
“Yeonjun, please, just let me explain,” Gunwook started, his voice strained. He reached out, but Yeonjun took a step back, avoiding his touch.
“There’s nothing to explain, Gunwook,” Yeonjun said, his tone flat. “I know everything. The tape, the bet—everything.”
Gunwook flinched as if Yeonjun’s words had physically struck him. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he muttered, his voice low. “I didn’t—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Yeonjun cut him off, his eyes narrowing. “You lied to me. You played with my feelings, and for what? Some stupid bet?”
“It wasn’t just a bet,” Gunwook insisted, a note of pleading creeping into his voice. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, Yeonjun. I—”
“Stop,” Yeonjun interrupted, his voice firm. “I’ve had enough. I’m done with all of this.”
Gunwook’s jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You can’t just walk away like this,” he said, his voice shaking with barely suppressed anger. “We—we were more than that.”
Yeonjun’s gaze softened for a brief moment, but it quickly hardened again. “I thought we were, but I was wrong. I don’t know who you are anymore, Gunwook. And I don’t think I ever did.”
Gunwook’s frustration boiled over, and he slammed his fist into the locker beside him. The loud bang echoed down the empty hallway, but Yeonjun didn’t flinch. He just watched Gunwook, his expression unreadable.
“You don’t understand,” Gunwook growled, his breath coming in short, angry bursts. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“But you did,” Yeonjun replied quietly. “And now it’s too late to fix it.”
Gunwook stared at him, his chest heaving with emotion, but he couldn’t find the words to respond. There was nothing he could say that would make things right.
“I’m done, Gunwook,” Yeonjun said, turning away. “Don’t try to contact me again.”
Gunwook watched helplessly as Yeonjun walked away, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. A part of him wanted to chase after him, to beg for forgiveness, but he knew it was pointless. Yeonjun had made up his mind, and there was no changing it.
As the reality of the situation sank in, Gunwook slammed his fist against the locker again, harder this time. The metal dented under the force of the blow, but it did nothing to ease the ache in his chest.
He leaned his forehead against the cool metal, closing his eyes and letting out a shaky breath. He had lost Yeonjun, and it was all his fault. No amount of apologies or explanations could change that.
The hallway remained silent, save for the quiet sounds of Gunwook’s ragged breathing. Alone with his anger and regret, he knew he had made the biggest mistake of his life, and now, he had to live with it.
======================================================
The sun had already dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the Lakewood High courtyard as Yeonjun leaned against the school’s brick wall. The cool evening breeze tugged at his hair, and he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, his mind racing. The events of the past few weeks had shaken him to his core, and the truth about the tape had been the final straw.
Gunwook had lied to him—lied about something so personal, so damaging. It wasn’t just the betrayal; it was the fact that Gunwook had been part of a cruel bet that had turned Yeonjun’s life into a nightmare. As far as Yeonjun was concerned, their relationship was over.
"Yeonjun," a soft voice called out, pulling him from his thoughts.
He looked up to see Soobin walking towards him, his shy smile bringing a warmth that Yeonjun hadn’t felt in a long time. Soobin was new to Lakewood, a transfer student who had managed to avoid most of the chaos that seemed to plague the town. He was quiet, kind, and everything that Yeonjun needed right now.
"Soobin," Yeonjun greeted, his tone softer than it had been all day. "Hey."
Soobin hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching Yeonjun’s as if trying to gauge his mood. "I heard about what happened with Gunwook… Are you okay?"
Yeonjun sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay after everything that’s happened. But I know I can’t stay in that mess anymore. I deserve better."
Soobin nodded, stepping closer. "You do, Yeonjun. You deserve someone who’s honest with you, who actually cares about you. Not someone who’s playing games."
A bitter laugh escaped Yeonjun. "It’s funny, you know? I thought I knew him. I thought… I don’t know, I guess I was wrong about everything."
Soobin reached out, gently placing a hand on Yeonjun’s arm. "You weren’t wrong about everything. You just trusted the wrong person. That doesn’t mean you’re wrong about what you deserve."
Yeonjun looked down at Soobin’s hand, feeling the sincerity in his touch. It was a stark contrast to the lies and manipulation he had faced with Gunwook. Soobin was different—he was genuine, and that was something Yeonjun hadn’t realized he was missing until now.
"Thanks, Soobin," Yeonjun said quietly, his gaze meeting Soobin’s. "You’ve been really good to me. I didn’t expect that… especially not now."
Soobin’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he didn’t pull away. "I just want you to be happy, Yeonjun. You deserve that. And if I can be a part of that, then… well, I’d like that."
Yeonjun’s heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in Soobin’s words. After everything, the lies, the betrayal, the fear—he had forgotten what it felt like to be cared for without any strings attached. Soobin was offering him something real, something he hadn’t had in a long time.
"I think I’d like that too," Yeonjun replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
They stood there for a moment, the world around them fading into the background. It was just the two of them, standing on the precipice of something new, something that felt right in a world that had gone so wrong.
As they walked away from the school together, side by side, Yeonjun couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, he was finally on the path to something better. He wasn’t sure where this new connection with Soobin would lead, but for the first time in a long while, he felt hopeful. And that was a feeling worth holding onto.
======================================================
The early morning light filtered through the kitchen windows, casting a warm glow over the breakfast table where Tiffany sat, sipping her coffee. The past few months had been a whirlwind, filled with fear, heartbreak, and too many sleepless nights. But this morning, there was a sense of calm—a calm she hadn’t felt in a long time.
As she stared into her coffee, lost in thought, she heard the soft creak of the front door opening. A moment later, Yeonjun shuffled into the kitchen, his hair a tousled mess and a sleepy look on his face.
“Morning, Mom,” he mumbled, grabbing a mug from the cabinet.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” Tiffany replied with a gentle smile. She watched as Yeonjun poured himself a cup of coffee and joined her at the table. They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before Tiffany decided to broach the topic that had been on her mind.
“You know, Yeonjun,” she began, her tone careful, “I’ve been seeing someone.”
Yeonjun looked up from his mug, surprise flickering in his eyes. “Oh? Who?”
“It’s Minho,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips. “Soobin’s father.”
Yeonjun blinked, processing the information. “Soobin’s dad? Really?”
Tiffany nodded. “We’ve been spending some time together. It just… happened, I guess. He’s been so kind, and after everything, it’s nice to have someone to talk to who understands.”
Yeonjun considered this, his initial surprise giving way to a thoughtful expression. “I mean, Soobin’s great, so I guess it makes sense his dad would be too.”
Tiffany chuckled softly. “He really is. Minho’s been through a lot too, and I think we’ve both found comfort in each other’s company.”
Yeonjun sipped his coffee, mulling over his mom’s words. “Do you… do you think this could be something serious?”
Tiffany’s smile widened, and there was a warmth in her eyes that Yeonjun hadn’t seen in a long time. “I don’t know. But I’m open to finding out. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this, Yeonjun.”
Yeonjun nodded slowly. “If it makes you happy, Mom, then I’m all for it. You deserve someone who cares about you.”
Tiffany reached across the table, placing her hand over Yeonjun’s. “And you deserve the same, honey. I’ve seen how you’ve been with Soobin… there’s something special there, isn’t there?”
Yeonjun’s cheeks reddened slightly, but he didn’t deny it. “Yeah, there is. He’s… different. In a good way.”
“I’m glad,” Tiffany said softly. “We both deserve to be happy.”
Just then, the sound of a car pulling up outside caught their attention. Tiffany glanced out the window and smiled as she recognized the familiar vehicle.
“That must be Minho now,” she said, her voice tinged with excitement. “We’re going out for breakfast.”
Yeonjun stood up, following his mom to the front door. When Tiffany opened it, Minho was standing on the porch, a warm smile on his face. Soobin was beside him, giving Yeonjun a shy wave.
“Good morning,” Minho greeted, his eyes softening as he looked at Tiffany.
“Good morning,” she replied, her smile mirroring his.
Yeonjun and Soobin exchanged a glance, and for a moment, there was a silent understanding between them. Their lives had been complicated, filled with more than their share of pain, but maybe—just maybe—they were both heading toward something better.
“Ready to go?” Minho asked, his hand slipping naturally into Tiffany’s.
“Absolutely,” she replied, squeezing his hand.
As they all piled into the car, Yeonjun found himself sitting beside Soobin in the backseat. Soobin smiled at him, a quiet but genuine expression that made Yeonjun’s heart feel a little lighter.
“Looks like our parents are getting pretty close, huh?” Soobin remarked as they buckled up.
“Yeah,” Yeonjun agreed, his tone warm. “I think it’s a good thing.”
Soobin nodded. “I think so too.”
As the car pulled away from the house, the sun rising higher in the sky, Yeonjun felt a sense of hope. For the first time in a long time, the future didn’t seem quite so daunting. There were still challenges ahead, but at least now, he knew he wouldn’t be facing them alone. And that, more than anything, gave him the strength to keep going.
======================================================
Sunoo was lounging on the couch, mindlessly flipping through channels when the doorbell rang. He frowned, not expecting anyone, and got up to answer it. When he opened the door, he was met with Sunghoon holding a pizza box, a tentative smile on his face.
“Peace offering?” Sunghoon said, lifting the box slightly as if it were a gift.
Sunoo eyed him warily before stepping aside to let him in. “What’s the occasion?” he asked, closing the door behind him.
Sunghoon walked over to the kitchen table, setting the pizza down. “I just thought we could talk,” he said, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of something more serious.
Sunoo crossed his arms, leaning against the counter. “Talk about what?”
Sunghoon opened the pizza box, the smell of melted cheese and pepperoni filling the room. He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself. “About Eunseok and Sohee… and your dad.”
Sunoo’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What about them?”
Sunghoon gestured for him to sit down, and reluctantly, Sunoo did. Sunghoon took a seat across from him, his expression serious. “There’s something I’ve known for a while, and I think it’s time you knew too.”
Sunoo felt a pit form in his stomach. “What is it, Sunghoon?”
Sunghoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Eunseok and Sohee… they had a video of your dad doing something he shouldn’t have been doing. They were blackmailing him with it.”
Sunoo’s eyes widened in shock. “What? What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure of all the details,” Sunghoon said quickly. “But whatever was on that video, it was bad enough for them to use it against him. After they died, Gunwook… well, he picked up where they left off.”
Sunoo felt his heart race, disbelief flooding his mind. “Gunwook? But why? Why would he do that?”
Sunghoon shook his head, his expression one of regret. “I don’t know, Sunoo. I wish I did. But I’ve never seen the video myself, so I don’t know exactly what it shows. All I know is that Gunwook’s been holding it over your dad ever since Sohee and Eunseok were killed.”
Sunoo’s mind was spinning, trying to process what Sunghoon was telling him. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.
“I didn’t want to get involved,” Sunghoon admitted, looking down at his hands. “But I’ve been thinking… I want to change, to be better. And that means being honest with you.”
Sunoo’s stomach churned. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “This is… this is too much, Sunghoon. I don’t even know what to think.”
“I’m sorry,” Sunghoon said softly. “I really am. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I thought you deserved to know the truth.”
Sunoo stared at the pizza, his appetite completely gone. “I need some time to process this,” he muttered, standing up abruptly. “I… I need to be alone.”
Sunghoon nodded, his expression pained. “I understand. I’ll go.”
He stood up and headed for the door, pausing to look back at Sunoo. “I’m sorry, Sunoo. I really am.”
Sunoo didn’t respond, his mind elsewhere as Sunghoon left. He sank back down onto the couch, his thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess.
Unbeknownst to them both, Sunoo’s father, Taehyung, had overheard everything through the security cameras he’d installed in the house. His eyes narrowed as he watched the conversation unfold on his monitor, his anger boiling beneath the surface.
Gunwook. The name echoed in his mind, filling him with a cold, calculated rage. Taehyung leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled together as he contemplated his next move. Gunwook had crossed a line, and now, he was going to pay.
======================================================
The night air was crisp and still, with only the rustling of leaves in the wind to break the silence. Soobin’s car rumbled softly as it wound down a narrow dirt road, deep into the woods. Yeonjun glanced out the window, a mix of curiosity and unease stirring in his chest.
“Where are we going?” Yeonjun asked, a slight edge to his voice as he turned to Soobin.
Soobin gave him a reassuring smile, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Just a little spot I know. It’s quiet, private. Thought it would be nice for us to spend some time together, away from everything.”
Yeonjun nodded, but the unease didn’t completely fade. The woods were dark, the trees looming tall and close, like silent sentinels. As the car came to a stop in a small clearing, Soobin reached over to the dashboard and opened a compartment.
Yeonjun’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the cold metal of a gun inside. “Soobin, why do you have that?” he asked, his voice tight with concern.
Soobin lifted the gun out and held it casually, as if it were nothing more than a tool. “For you,” he said, his tone light. “To help you get over your fears.”
“My fears?” Yeonjun echoed, his eyes widening.
Soobin nodded, stepping out of the car and motioning for Yeonjun to follow. “You’ve been through a lot, Yeonjun. I thought maybe this could help you feel a little more in control.”
Yeonjun hesitated but followed Soobin out into the clearing. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting an eerie glow over the scene. Soobin set up a row of cans on a fallen log, then handed the gun to Yeonjun.
“Here, try it,” Soobin urged, his voice encouraging.
Yeonjun took the gun, feeling its weight in his hands. He’d never held one before, and the cold metal felt foreign and intimidating. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he admitted, his voice shaky.
“You can,” Soobin said confidently. “Just aim and squeeze the trigger. I’ll be right here.”
Yeonjun took a deep breath and raised the gun, trying to steady his trembling hands. He aimed at the first can, squinting to line up the sights. His finger hovered over the trigger, and for a moment, everything around him faded away. It was just him, the gun, and the target.
He squeezed the trigger, and the gunshot echoed through the woods, startling him. The can wobbled but didn’t fall. Yeonjun frowned, lowering the gun.
“Not bad for your first try,” Soobin said with a smile. He took the gun from Yeonjun and, with practiced ease, fired off several shots in quick succession. Each can toppled to the ground with a sharp ping.
“Wow,” Yeonjun breathed, impressed. “You’re really good at this.”
Soobin shrugged, handing the gun back to him. “It’s just practice. You can get there too.”
Yeonjun shook his head, pushing the gun back toward Soobin. “No, I can’t… I don’t think I can do this.”
Soobin looked at him for a moment, then nodded, taking the gun and setting it aside. “That’s okay. I just wanted you to know you don’t have to be afraid. But if you ever change your mind… it’s here for you.”
Yeonjun smiled faintly, appreciating the gesture even if he couldn’t take the offer. “Thanks, Soobin.”
Soobin stepped closer, his gaze softening as he looked into Yeonjun’s eyes. “You don’t have to be afraid with me, Yeonjun. I’ll protect you.”
There was a tenderness in Soobin’s voice that made Yeonjun’s heart flutter. The intensity of the night, the closeness of Soobin, it all made his head spin. Without thinking, he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Soobin’s in a sudden, impulsive kiss.
Soobin responded immediately, his arms wrapping around Yeonjun’s waist, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, growing more passionate with each passing second, the cold night air forgotten as heat surged between them. Yeonjun’s hands tangled in Soobin’s hair, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of freedom and abandon.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other’s. Yeonjun’s heart raced, but not from fear this time. He looked into Soobin’s eyes, seeing the same fire there, and he knew that he’d moved on from Gunwook. This—what he had with Soobin—felt right, felt like a new beginning.
“Soobin,” Yeonjun whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “Thank you… for everything.”
Soobin smiled, his thumb brushing over Yeonjun’s cheek. “I’m here for you, Yeonjun. Always.”
In that moment, in the middle of the dark, silent woods, with only the moon and stars as their witnesses, Yeonjun felt something shift within him. He wasn’t just moving on—he was moving forward, leaving the past behind and embracing whatever the future held, with Soobin by his side.
======================================================
The school hallways were buzzing with the usual chatter and noise, but Sunoo felt distant from it all as he followed Sunghoon to an empty classroom. There was a tension in the air between them, something unspoken but heavy, and it made Sunoo’s stomach twist with unease. Sunghoon had texted him earlier, saying there was something he needed to see, something important. Now, as they settled into the classroom, Sunoo could feel the weight of whatever was coming next.
Sunghoon pulled out his phone, glancing at Sunoo with a serious expression. "Sunoo, I need to show you this. But you have to promise me you won’t freak out."
Sunoo’s heart began to race. "What is it, Sunghoon? Just show me."
Sunghoon hesitated for a moment before pressing play on a video. The screen flickered to life, showing a grainy recording. At first, it was hard to make out what was happening, but then Sunoo saw a familiar figure on the screen. His father.
The camera seemed to be positioned from a distance, possibly a security camera or a hidden one. It showed his father opening the trunk of his car, and Sunoo’s breath caught in his throat as he watched the scene unfold. His father was dragging something—no, someone—out of the trunk. A body, limp and unmoving.
Sunoo felt a cold chill crawl up his spine as the video continued, showing his father struggling to carry the body into the house. The timestamp at the bottom of the screen sent a jolt through him. It was the day after his mother had supposedly left for a “trip.”
Sunoo’s voice was shaky as he spoke. "Where… where did you get this?"
Sunghoon looked at him with concern. "It was on the dark web. I didn’t believe it at first, but… I had to show you. I thought you needed to know."
Sunoo’s mind was racing, a thousand thoughts swirling in his head. He felt sick, like the ground beneath him was crumbling away. "But my dad… he told me… he said my mom went to rehab. That she needed help. He wouldn’t—" Sunoo’s voice broke, and he swallowed hard. "He wouldn’t lie about that. He wouldn’t… kill her."
Sunghoon’s expression softened, but there was still a grimness to it. "I’m sorry, Sunoo. But with everything that’s been happening… you need to consider the possibility that something’s not right."
Sunoo’s hands were trembling as he gripped the edge of the desk. "I need to talk to him. I need to know the truth."
"You sure that’s a good idea?" Sunghoon asked cautiously. "Maybe you should take some time to process this first."
But Sunoo was already shaking his head. "No, I need to know now. I can’t just sit here and wonder… if my dad… if he…"
He couldn’t even finish the sentence. The thought of his father, the man he had looked up to all his life, being capable of something so horrific was too much to bear. But he had to know. He had to confront him, to find out what really happened to his mother.
Sunghoon reached out, placing a hand on Sunoo’s shoulder. "I’ll go with you if you want. You don’t have to do this alone."
Sunoo looked at him, grateful for the offer but knowing this was something he had to face on his own. "Thanks, Sunghoon, but I need to do this myself."
Sunghoon nodded, understanding. "Just… be careful, okay? And if you need anything, call me."
Sunoo gave him a small, tense smile. "I will."
As Sunoo left the classroom, his mind was in turmoil. The image of his father dragging that body wouldn’t leave him, replaying over and over like a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. He headed toward the exit, his heart pounding with fear and uncertainty. There was only one place he needed to be right now: home. Where the truth, whatever it was, awaited him.
Chapter 6: Betrayed
Notes:
"It ends with you"
Chapter Text
Yeonjun's determination to uncover the truth outweighed any fear he had. "Soobin, I need to go to Brandon James’s house," he said, his voice steady but laced with tension.
Soobin frowned, gripping the steering wheel as they drove. "Yeonjun, that place is dangerous. There’s nothing there but bad memories and ghosts."
"Exactly," Yeonjun replied. "I need answers, and I feel like everything leads back to that house. Please, Soobin. I need to do this."
Soobin hesitated, glancing at Yeonjun’s resolute expression. Finally, he sighed and nodded. "Alright, but we’ll be in and out. I don’t want to stick around longer than we have to."
Yeonjun gave a small, appreciative smile. "Thank you. I promise, we’ll be quick."
As they continued to drive, the air between them was thick with unspoken tension. Soobin didn’t like the idea of going to the house, but he understood why Yeonjun felt it was necessary. They had both been through too much to ignore the signs any longer.
When they finally arrived at the old, dilapidated house, Yeonjun felt a chill run down his spine. The place looked as foreboding as the stories that surrounded it. But he steeled himself, determined to push through the fear.
Soobin parked the car a short distance away, keeping the engine running just in case. "Are you sure about this?" he asked one last time.
Yeonjun nodded, though his hands trembled slightly as he reached for the door handle. "I’m sure. Let’s do this."
The old house creaked under Yeonjun’s footsteps as he cautiously made his way through the dimly lit rooms. Dust motes danced in the faint beams of light filtering through the boarded-up windows. The place was eerily silent, save for the occasional groan of the weathered wood beneath his feet.
"This place feels like it’s been abandoned for decades," Yeonjun murmured to himself, glancing around the decrepit living room. The air was thick with the scent of mildew and decay, but something caught his eye — a fresh daisy, bright and alive, sitting in a dusty vase on a table. He froze. "What the…? Someone’s been here."
His heart pounded as he leaned in closer to inspect the flower, its vibrant petals a stark contrast to the lifeless surroundings. Just then, he realized Soobin was no longer beside him. "Soobin?" he called out, his voice echoing through the empty house. No response. "Soobin, where are you?" Panic started to set in as he searched the adjacent rooms, but there was no sign of his friend.
Suddenly, Yeonjun’s phone rang, the sharp sound startling him. He fumbled to answer it, his breath catching in his throat when he saw the caller ID: Unknown. He knew what was coming.
"Hello, Yeonjun," the distorted voice of Ghostface crackled through the speaker, sending a shiver down his spine.
"Where’s Soobin?" Yeonjun demanded, trying to keep his voice steady, but the fear was palpable.
"Why worry about him when you should be worrying about yourself?" Ghostface taunted. "You’re all alone now, just like you always feared."
Yeonjun’s pulse raced as he frantically looked around for an escape route. He bolted for the front door, but it was jammed. "Damn it!" he hissed, turning to find another way out. As he dashed through the hallway, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his side.
He gasped, clutching at the wound, his hand coming away stained with blood. "No, no, no…" he muttered, staggering backward. He could feel his strength leaving him, his vision blurring as he collapsed to the floor.
Ghostface appeared above him, knife gleaming in the dim light. Yeonjun’s heart raced as the masked figure raised the weapon for the final blow. Desperate, Yeonjun reached out, grabbing Ghostface's arm, and in one swift motion, he yanked off the mask.
He gasped, staring into his own reflection. "It’s… me?" he whispered, horror washing over him as he saw himself holding the knife, poised to strike.
"It ends with you," his reflection sneered, driving the blade downward.
Yeonjun jerked awake, drenched in sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He was back in his own bedroom, the familiar surroundings a stark contrast to the nightmare that had felt so real. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked around, trying to shake off the lingering terror.
"It was just a dream," he whispered to himself, running a trembling hand through his hair. But the words of his dream self echoed in his mind, chilling him to the bone: "It ends with you."
======================================================
Jaehyun sat at his desk, the dim light from his computer screen casting shadows across his face as he scrolled through search results. He had spent hours trying to dig up information on their teacher, Jay, but something wasn’t adding up. There were plenty of people with the same name, but none of them matched the man who taught them every day.
"This doesn’t make any sense," Jaehyun muttered, rubbing his temples in frustration. "It’s like he doesn’t even exist."
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen in disbelief. How could someone with such a common name leave no trace? It wasn’t just odd; it was suspicious.
The door to his room creaked open, and Beomgyu stepped inside, holding a can of soda. "Still working on that?" he asked, plopping down on Jaehyun’s bed.
Jaehyun nodded. "Yeah, but I’ve hit a dead end. I’ve searched everywhere, but there’s nothing on him. It’s like Jay doesn’t exist in the real world. It’s got me thinking… What if he’s hiding something? What if he needed to change his name to cover up something from his past?"
Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, considering the possibility. "That’s pretty messed up. But it makes sense, doesn’t it? I mean, we already know he’s been doing shady stuff, like hooking up with students." He took a sip of his soda, then added, "You know, maybe Sohee figured that out. Maybe he found something on his laptop and used it to blackmail him."
Jaehyun’s eyes widened as he processed Beomgyu’s suggestion. "You’re saying Sohee could’ve had dirt on him? That could explain why he had access to his laptop and why he was killed. Maybe he pushed him too far."
Beomgyu shrugged, a grim look on his face. "It’s possible. Think about it—Sohee wasn’t exactly the type to keep his nose clean. If he found out something incriminating, he’d definitely use it to his advantage. And if Jay really is hiding something, he’d do whatever it takes to keep it buried."
Jaehyun nodded slowly, the pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place. "Yeah… And if Jay is willing to kill to protect his secret, that means he could be behind everything—Sohee, Eunseok, Woonhak…"
Beomgyu frowned. "But why would he keep going? Sohee’s dead. Wouldn’t that be the end of it?"
"Unless," Jaehyun said, his voice growing tense, "someone else knows his secret. Or maybe it’s not just about protecting his identity anymore. Maybe he’s tying up loose ends, making sure no one can trace anything back to him."
Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We need more evidence. Something that can connect Jay to all of this. But if we’re right, then we’re not just dealing with a creepy teacher. We’re dealing with a killer."
Jaehyun’s eyes flicked back to his computer screen, the unease in his gut growing. "We have to be careful, Beomgyu. If Jay really is the one behind all of this, then we’re way out of our league. But we can’t just let it go. We need to find out the truth."
Beomgyu nodded, determination hardening in his eyes. "Agreed. But we’ll have to play this smart. If Jay’s as dangerous as we think, one wrong move could make us his next targets."
The room fell into a tense silence, both boys realizing just how deep they were getting into something far more sinister than they ever imagined.
======================================================
Beomgyu arrived home, his heart skipping a beat as he spotted an unfamiliar car parked outside. The tension in the air was palpable as he stepped inside, only to find his father seated with Detective Yoona at the dining table. They looked up as he entered, their conversation halting.
"Beomgyu," his father said, his voice laced with concern, "Detective Yoona needs to speak with you."
Beomgyu's stomach churned. "What’s going on?"
Detective Yoona gave him a measured look. "We need you to come down to the station for questioning. There are some connections we’re trying to make between you and Taehyun's murder."
Beomgyu’s mind raced, trying to process the sudden shift in suspicion. "You think I had something to do with Taehyun's death?"
"It’s just standard procedure," Yoona replied calmly, though her eyes told a different story. "We’re following up on all possible leads."
Beomgyu glanced at his father, who nodded slightly, urging him to cooperate. With a deep breath, Beomgyu knew he had no choice but to go with her. "Alright, let’s go."
Beomgyu sat in the dimly lit interrogation room, his fingers tapping nervously on the table. Detective Yoona paced in front of him, her eyes sharp, calculating.
"You know, Beomgyu," she began, her voice calm yet laced with a hint of accusation, "Taehyun was the only one who could confirm your whereabouts on the night of Sohee's murder. And now, conveniently, Taehyun is dead."
Beomgyu swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure. "I had nothing to do with Taehyun’s death. I swear."
Detective Yoona stopped pacing and turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "Let’s talk about what you and your friends found at the old hospital. You saw the head, right? Eunseok’s head?"
Beomgyu nodded slowly, his mind racing back to that horrifying moment. "Yeah, but I didn’t touch it. I was too busy getting out of there to even think about touching anything."
The detective raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. "Are you sure about that?"
"Yes, I’m sure," Beomgyu replied, a bit more forcefully this time, his voice betraying a hint of frustration. "I didn’t touch anything."
Detective Yoona reached into a bag beside her and pulled out something that made Beomgyu’s heart drop—a mask. She placed it on the table, the bloodstained Brandon James mask, and pushed it slightly toward him.
"This mask," she said, her tone now icy, "was found on Eunseok’s head. We ran tests on it. Your DNA was all over the inside of this mask."
Beomgyu’s eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. "That’s impossible! I didn’t—"
"But you did," Yoona interrupted, leaning in closer, her gaze piercing. "So, either you’re lying, or someone’s trying very hard to frame you. Either way, it doesn’t look good for you, Beomgyu."
He stared at the mask, his mind whirling with disbelief and fear. "I didn’t do this. Someone… someone must’ve planted it."
"That’s a convenient excuse," Yoona replied, her voice dripping with skepticism. "But it’s the only lead we have, and until we figure this out, you’re going to stay right at the top of our suspect list."
======================================================
Beomgyu sat in the interrogation room, his nerves fraying with each passing second. Across from him, Detective Yoona stared intently, her expression unwavering. The silence was deafening until she finally spoke.
“We’ve run tests on everyone involved that day at the hospital,” she began, her tone cold and clinical. “Fingerprints, DNA—everything. And guess what? Yours were the only ones found.”
Beomgyu’s heart pounded in his chest, the shock evident on his face. “What? No, that can’t be right. I didn’t… I never put that mask on! I’ve never even been to that hospital before that day.”
Detective Yoona’s eyes narrowed, her suspicion growing. “That’s interesting because your prints and DNA say otherwise. How do you explain that, Beomgyu?”
Beomgyu shook his head, trying to make sense of the situation. “I swear, I’ve never been there before! I don’t know how my DNA ended up on that mask.”
The detective leaned forward, her gaze piercing. “Do you think I’m going to believe that? You and Taehyun had a perfect motive to kill Sohee. He humiliated both of you, and now he’s dead. You expect me to believe this is all just a coincidence?”
Beomgyu clenched his fists, his frustration mounting. “Sohee humiliated us, yeah, but that doesn’t mean we killed him! I didn’t kill anyone!”
Yoona’s voice was firm, her eyes never leaving his. “You have to understand how this looks, Beomgyu. The evidence points to you. You’ve got the motive, and now your DNA is all over the scene. How am I supposed to believe you?”
Beomgyu’s mind raced, searching for an explanation. “What if someone planted it? What if someone is framing me? I wasn’t the only one who hated Sohee. You know that!”
The detective raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “That’s a nice theory, but it’s just that—a theory. Until you give me something concrete, you’re the one who’s looking guilty.”
Beomgyu felt the walls closing in on him, the weight of the situation bearing down. He knew the truth, but convincing the detective was another story entirely. “Please, you have to believe me. I didn’t do this.”
Yoona stood up, her expression hard. “Then start giving me answers, Beomgyu, because right now, the only answer I’m seeing is you.”
======================================================
As the door to the interrogation room clicked shut behind Detective Yoona, Beomgyu exhaled, his mind racing. The pressure was getting to him, and he knew he had to act fast. Glancing around to make sure he was alone, he quickly pulled out a cellphone he’d managed to sneak in and dialed Yeonjun’s number. His hands trembled as the phone rang, each second feeling like an eternity.
“Yeonjun, it’s me,” Beomgyu whispered urgently as soon as the call connected.
“Beomgyu? What the hell are you doing? You’re not supposed to have a phone in there!” Yeonjun’s voice was low but filled with concern.
“I know, I know,” Beomgyu replied, his voice shaky. “Listen, I need you to do something for me, something important.”
“What is it?” Yeonjun asked, the hesitation in his voice clear.
“There are files on my laptop,” Beomgyu said, glancing nervously at the door. “They’re from the night Sohee was murdered. You need to delete them. All of them. The detective doesn’t know about them, and she can’t ever find out.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Beomgyu, are you sure about this? What if those files prove you didn’t do anything? What if—”
“No!” Beomgyu cut him off, his voice rising in panic. “You can’t let anyone see them, especially not Yoona. I lied to her, Yeonjun. I told her I didn’t have anything for her to view. If she finds out, I’m done for.”
Yeonjun’s silence was heavy, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. “I don’t know, Beomgyu. What if those files show something important? Something that could help us figure out what really happened?”
Beomgyu’s desperation grew. “Please, Yeonjun. I’m begging you. I’m already in deep trouble here, and if she gets her hands on those files, it’s over for me. Just delete them. Don’t even look at them, okay?”
Yeonjun sighed, conflicted. “I’ll do it, Beomgyu. But… are you sure? What if—”
“I’m sure!” Beomgyu interrupted, his voice frantic. “Just do it. I can’t have her finding out.”
Yeonjun nodded, even though Beomgyu couldn’t see him. “Okay. I’ll do it. But you owe me an explanation when this is all over.”
Before Beomgyu could respond, the door to the interrogation room swung open, and Detective Yoona walked back in, her eyes narrowing as she saw him with the phone. Beomgyu quickly ended the call, but it was too late.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Yoona demanded, striding over to him and snatching the phone from his hand. “Making calls while in an interrogation? You’re only making yourself look more guilty, Beomgyu.”
Beomgyu’s heart sank as he struggled to come up with an excuse. “I—It was just a quick call, nothing important.”
Yoona’s eyes narrowed further as she glanced at the phone. “Nothing important, huh? We’ll see about that.”
As she confiscated the phone and left the room to have it checked, Beomgyu could only hope that Yeonjun would follow through with his request—and that he wouldn’t watch the files first. The consequences of this one decision could change everything.
======================================================
The night was quiet, save for the distant hum of cicadas and the occasional rustling of leaves. Jaehyun and Yeonjun stood on the doorstep of the modest house, glancing at each other with a mix of apprehension and determination. Jaehyun took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock. The sound echoed sharply in the stillness.
The door creaked open, revealing a tall man with a stern face and a posture that spoke of disciplined military training. His eyes, sharp and assessing, fell on Jaehyun and Yeonjun.
"What brings you here at this hour?" Beomgyu's father asked, his voice steady and commanding. He didn't bother to hide the wariness in his gaze.
Jaehyun cleared his throat, trying to sound as confident as possible. "Good evening, sir. Beomgyu asked us to come by and pick up something for him. We were on our way to the station and thought we could help."
The man's gaze narrowed, his skepticism apparent. "Beomgyu asked you to come? At this hour? What exactly does he need?"
Yeonjun, sensing the tension, stepped forward slightly. "It’s just a few files from his laptop. We were trying to help him with some urgent paperwork. We know it’s late, but we wanted to make sure we got this done quickly."
Beomgyu's father looked them both up and down, his eyes lingering on Jaehyun. There was a moment of silence as he seemed to weigh their words. Finally, he stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter.
“Alright,” he said reluctantly, “but I’m coming with you. I want to see what’s so urgent.”
The trio moved through the dimly lit hallway, the wooden floorboards creaking under their feet. Jaehyun and Yeonjun exchanged uneasy glances but followed Beomgyu’s father as he led them to the study. The room was cluttered with papers, books, and the faint smell of old leather.
Jaehyun approached the desk where Beomgyu’s laptop sat, feeling the weight of the man’s gaze on his back. He glanced at Yeonjun, who nodded slightly, and began to open the laptop.
Beomgyu’s father leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed. “You better not be up to anything that could get my son into more trouble.”
“We’re just here to help,” Yeonjun said, trying to keep his tone steady. “Beomgyu’s been in a tough spot lately, and we’re just trying to make sure he doesn’t get into any more trouble.”
The man’s eyes softened just a fraction, though his expression remained guarded. “He’s always had a knack for finding himself in difficult situations. I just hope you two know what you’re doing.”
Jaehyun clicked through the laptop’s files, his fingers moving quickly but cautiously. “We do, sir. We just need to get these files off before they cause any more issues.”
The tension in the room remained palpable as Jaehyun worked, Beomgyu’s father’s gaze never leaving them. The minutes ticked by slowly, each second laden with the weight of their clandestine mission.
======================================================
Yeonjun’s heart pounded as he and Jaehyun scrambled out the window of Sohee’s room, the SD card clutched tightly in Yeonjun’s hand. The sound of police sirens grew louder, and he knew they didn’t have much time.
“Hurry up, Yeonjun!” Jaehyun whispered harshly, glancing nervously at the ground below.
“I’m going as fast as I can!” Yeonjun hissed back, carefully lowering himself out the window and landing with a soft thud in the bushes. Jaehyun followed suit, and the two of them quickly darted around the side of the house, trying to stay out of sight.
Just as they reached the street, they heard the front door of the house burst open, and the voices of police officers echoed through the night.
“Let’s go,” Jaehyun urged, and they sprinted down the block, disappearing into the shadows.
Once they were a safe distance away, they slowed down, trying to catch their breath. “Did you get it?” Jaehyun asked, looking over at Yeonjun.
Yeonjun nodded, holding up the SD card. “Yeah, I got it. But we need to be careful. The cops were way too close.”
“No kidding,” Jaehyun replied, his eyes still darting around nervously. “Let’s get out of here before they realize we’re missing.”
They quickly made their way to Jaehyun’s car, and as they drove off, Yeonjun couldn’t shake the feeling of dread settling in his stomach. They had the files, but at what cost?
Later that evening, Yeonjun was in his room, staring at the SD card. He knew he needed to see what was on it, but the thought of what it could reveal made his stomach turn. Before he could make a decision, his phone buzzed on the desk. He picked it up and saw an incoming call from Detective Yoona. His blood ran cold.
Taking a deep breath, he answered, trying to sound calm. “Hello?”
“Yeonjun,” Yoona’s voice was firm, leaving no room for pleasantries. “I need you to come down to the station. We need to talk.”
Yeonjun’s heart skipped a beat. “Is something wrong, Detective?”
“I think you know exactly what this is about,” Yoona replied, her tone serious. “There’s something missing from Sohee’s laptop, and I have a feeling you might know where it is. It’s better for you to come in voluntarily than for us to come find you.”
Yeonjun swallowed hard, trying to think of a way out of this. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
“Yeonjun,” Yoona interrupted, her voice carrying an edge of impatience. “This isn’t a game. You’ve been through enough to know that withholding evidence is a serious offense. I’m giving you one chance to come clean before things get worse for you.”
Yeonjun’s mind raced, trying to figure out his next move. He could deny everything, but Yoona wasn’t someone who would let this go easily. He realized there was no escaping this, at least not without making things worse.
“Alright,” Yeonjun finally said, his voice steadying. “I’ll come to the station.”
“Good,” Yoona responded, her tone slightly softer. “I’ll be expecting you.”
As he hung up the phone, Yeonjun felt the weight of the situation settle heavily on his shoulders. He glanced at the SD card one last time before slipping it into his pocket. He knew this conversation with Yoona could change everything, but he had no choice now.
“Jaehyun, I need you to cover for me,” Yeonjun said, dialing his friend’s number as he prepared to leave.
“Got it,” Jaehyun replied without hesitation. “Just be careful, Yeonjun.”
Yeonjun nodded to himself, his resolve hardening as he headed out the door. It was time to face the consequences, whatever they might be.
======================================================
Yeonjun walked into the station, his nerves jangling as he approached Detective Yoona’s office. The weight of the SD card in his pocket felt heavier with each step. Yoona’s desk was piled with case files, and she was seated behind it, her gaze sharp and focused.
“Sit down, Yeonjun,” Yoona said, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk. Her voice was authoritative, leaving no room for casual conversation.
Yeonjun took a seat, trying to maintain a composed demeanor. “Detective Yoona, what can I do for you?”
Yoona wasted no time. “We know that Beomgyu called you earlier. I need to know what you two talked about.”
Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, attempting to keep his tone nonchalant. “We talked about the situation. Beomgyu’s in a tough spot, and he was just asking for advice.”
Yoona’s eyes narrowed. “Advice about what, specifically?”
“About handling the pressure,” Yeonjun replied smoothly. “He’s stressed out, and he was just venting.”
Yoona leaned back in her chair, her gaze never leaving Yeonjun’s face. “You seem very calm considering everything that’s going on. But let’s be clear, Yeonjun. I’m aware of what’s happening with the SD card and the missing files. If Beomgyu walks free and another murder occurs, you’ll be held responsible just as much as he will.”
Yeonjun’s heart skipped a beat, but he maintained his composure. “Detective, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m here to cooperate.”
Yoona’s expression was stern. “You can try to play it cool, but this isn’t a game. You’re connected to this case, and if there’s any indication that you’re withholding information or obstructing justice, it won’t end well for you. I suggest you be honest with me.”
Yeonjun swallowed hard, but he didn’t let it show. “I understand. I’m just trying to do what I can to help.”
Yoona’s gaze softened slightly, though her demeanor remained serious. “I’m giving you one last chance to come clean. If you know something that could prevent further murders, now is the time to share it. We’re dealing with a very dangerous situation here.”
Yeonjun nodded slowly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good,” Yoona said, standing up and extending her hand. “I appreciate your cooperation, Yeonjun. If you think of anything else, let me know immediately.”
Yeonjun shook her hand, his mind racing. “I will. Thank you, Detective.”
As Yeonjun left the office, he felt the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He had managed to navigate the conversation without giving away too much, but the threat hanging over him was clear. He had to be careful and make sure that he and Beomgyu didn’t end up in even deeper trouble.
Walking back to his car, Yeonjun couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. He knew that the stakes were high and that every decision he made from here on out could have serious consequences.
======================================================
Yeonjun returned home, the tension from the station still clinging to him. He walked into his room, shut the door behind him, and took a deep breath. The SD card was in his hand, and he knew what he had to do. But before he destroyed the file, curiosity got the better of him. He inserted the SD card into his laptop and opened the video file.
The screen flickered to life, revealing Taehyun holding the camera, his face a mask of frustration. The video was shaky, but it focused on Beomgyu, who looked furious, his eyes blazing with anger. The sound was loud and raw.
Beomgyu’s voice came through, heavy with rage. “I’m sick of Sohee thinking he can just walk all over me. He has made my life hell, and I’m not going to stand for it anymore. After I’m done with him, he won’t be able to bully anyone else. He will be finished.”
Yeonjun’s heart raced as he watched Beomgyu’s expression. The intensity of his anger was palpable, and it was clear that Beomgyu’s hatred for Sohee ran deep. The way he spoke, the fervor in his eyes—it was unsettling. The video seemed to confirm the possibility that Beomgyu could have been driven to kill Sohee out of pure vengeance.
Yeonjun’s mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He had always seen Beomgyu as a friend, someone who had been there through thick and thin. The video presented a side of him that was dangerous and unpredictable. Was Beomgyu truly capable of such violence?
Swallowing hard, Yeonjun made up his mind. He couldn’t afford to be swayed by what he saw. The stakes were too high, and the possibility of Beomgyu being involved in Sohee’s death was something he couldn’t ignore. He reached for the trash bin and prepared to delete the video.
Before he did, he whispered to himself, “I’m sorry, Beomgyu, but I can’t let this put everyone in more danger.” With a resolute click, he deleted the file, the screen flickering as the video vanished from existence.
Yeonjun sat in silence for a moment, staring at the empty trash bin icon on his desktop. The decision to destroy the file felt like a weight off his shoulders, but the confusion and doubt lingered. He had to focus on finding the truth, no matter how difficult it was.
He stood up, feeling the gravity of the situation settle around him. The tension and the secrets were becoming too much to handle alone. As he made his way to the living room, he resolved to be more vigilant, to question everything, and to seek out the truth before it was too late.
======================================================
The morning light filtered through Yeonjun’s curtains, casting a soft glow on his room. The sound of knocking pulled him from his restless sleep. He groaned and turned over, hoping to drift back into dreams. However, the knocking persisted.
“Yeonjun, wake up,” came his mother Tiffany’s voice, firm but gentle.
Yeonjun rubbed his eyes and groggily sat up. “What’s going on, Mom?”
“We’re going to your grandparents’ old house,” Tiffany said. “There’s something important I need to show you.”
Yeonjun blinked, confused but too tired to argue. “Can’t it wait?”
Tiffany shook her head, her expression serious. “No, it can’t. It’s time you know the full story.”
A short while later, Tiffany and Yeonjun were in the car, the cityscape slowly giving way to more open roads and familiar landmarks. The drive was quiet, with only the occasional hum of the engine breaking the silence. Yeonjun’s mind raced with questions, but he decided to wait until they arrived.
When they pulled up to the old house, it was evident that it hadn’t been lived in for years. The paint was peeling, the garden overgrown, and the windows dusty. It looked abandoned, but there was a certain nostalgia to it, a reminder of a past that had long since faded.
Tiffany led Yeonjun to the front door, which creaked open with a hesitant push. They stepped inside, and the musty smell of old wood and forgotten memories filled the air.
“This was the house where everything started with Brandon James,” Tiffany began, her voice echoing slightly in the empty space. “Brandon and I grew up together. He wasn’t always the monster you’ve heard about. To me, he was a friend, someone who was always there when I needed him.”
Yeonjun looked around, trying to imagine what life must have been like here. “What happened, Mom? Why did everything change?”
Tiffany took a deep breath, her eyes wandering to a corner of the room where an old photo album lay forgotten. “During high school, things changed. Brandon knew about the problems between me and your father. We were having a hard time, and one night, after a school dance, Brandon came to confront me.”
Yeonjun’s curiosity was piqued. “What did he say?”
Tiffany’s voice grew soft, filled with the weight of memory. “He told me that I deserved better. He was angry, not at me but at the situation. He saw me struggling and felt that I was settling for someone who wasn’t right for me. He wanted to protect me, to make sure I knew I had options, that I didn’t have to endure a relationship that was making me unhappy.”
Yeonjun could sense the pain in his mother’s voice. “So, Brandon was trying to help you?”
“Sort of,” Tiffany admitted. “But his approach was misguided. He was acting out of anger and frustration, and it pushed him onto a darker path. The night of the dance, things escalated. He felt betrayed and abandoned, and that anger turned into something much darker.”
Yeonjun nodded, absorbing the gravity of what he was hearing. “So, Brandon wasn’t always like this. He became the monster we know now because of his own struggles and pain?”
“Exactly,” Tiffany said, her voice breaking slightly. “It’s hard to see someone you cared about fall so far from the person they once were. I wanted to show you this place because it’s important to understand that people are shaped by their experiences. Brandon’s story is a tragic reminder of that.”
Yeonjun stood in silence, taking in the history and the sorrow that filled the old house. It was clear that this was a crucial part of the puzzle, a key to understanding the complex web of emotions and motivations that had led to the current horrors.
======================================================
Tiffany led Yeonjun through the dusty corridors of the old house, her footsteps echoing softly against the creaking floorboards. They stopped in a room that seemed untouched by time, filled with relics of the past and the weight of untold stories. Tiffany sat down on an old armchair, her gaze distant as she began to recount more of her story.
“There’s more you need to know,” Tiffany said, her voice heavy with emotion. “It wasn’t just a confrontation between Brandon and me. A friend of mine overheard our conversation. I was trying to explain things to Brandon, to help him understand why things were falling apart between me and your father.”
Yeonjun listened intently, sensing the gravity of what was coming next. “And what happened after that?”
Tiffany took a deep breath, her eyes welling up with tears. “My friend, in his own misguided attempt to protect me, warned your father about what Brandon and I were discussing. He thought that Brandon was a threat and that I was in danger.”
Yeonjun’s face tightened in concern. “So, that’s what led to the fight?”
“Yes,” Tiffany said, her voice cracking. “Things escalated quickly. I just wanted to talk to Brandon, to try and make sense of everything. I left him a note asking him to meet me at the dock near the lake. It was the only place where we could be alone, away from prying eyes.”
Tiffany paused, her hands trembling as she clutched a faded photograph. “My father saw me leaving and, in his panic, decided to call the cops. He thought Brandon was a threat to me, and that’s how everything spiraled out of control.”
Yeonjun’s expression grew darker. “The cops… they shot him?”
“Yes,” Tiffany whispered. “They arrived at the dock while Brandon and I were trying to talk things through. He was angry, scared, and the officers mistook his agitation for aggression. They shot him, and he fell into the lake.”
Yeonjun’s eyes widened in shock. “But his body was never found?”
“No,” Tiffany said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “His body was never recovered. The lake swallowed him up, and after that night, there were no more sightings of him. The story was that he had drowned, but I always feared there was more to it. We never found closure.”
Yeonjun’s heart ached for his mother and the tragic series of events that had unfolded. “So, Brandon’s disappearance was the beginning of everything that’s happening now?”
Tiffany nodded, her voice filled with sorrow. “Yes. His anger, his pain—it all built up and manifested into something monstrous. I believe it’s why he became the killer we’ve come to fear. It’s a tragedy that began with a misunderstanding, a fight, and a wrongful death.”
Yeonjun absorbed the weight of his mother’s revelations, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to come together. “I understand now. This was more than just a series of murders. It’s a story of loss, pain, and how the past can haunt the present.”
Tiffany wiped her tears and looked at Yeonjun with a mixture of regret and hope. “I’m sorry you had to learn about this in such a painful way. I hope that understanding the past will help you make sense of everything and find a way to end this nightmare.”
Yeonjun nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination. “Thank you for telling me, Mom. I’ll do everything I can to put an end to this, for all of us.”
Tiffany embraced her son, their shared grief and resolve creating a moment of profound connection. As they stood together in the old house, the echoes of the past seemed to whisper a promise of resolution and the possibility of peace.
======================================================
In the dim light of the old house, Tiffany's voice wavered with a blend of regret and urgency. She turned to Yeonjun, her eyes filled with an earnest plea.
“Knowing about Beomgyu's current situation, I still regret what happened to Brandon,” she said softly, her voice heavy with the weight of years. “I should have stood up for him, defended him against the accusations and the misunderstanding. I didn’t, and it cost him his life.”
Yeonjun looked at her, sensing the depth of her remorse. “Mom, I know you’re feeling guilty about what happened. But what does this have to do with Beomgyu?”
Tiffany took a deep breath, her gaze steady and unwavering. “Because I don’t want you to make the same mistake with Beomgyu. I don’t want you to look back and wish you had defended your friend when you had the chance.”
Yeonjun’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But Beomgyu—”
“I know,” Tiffany interrupted gently. “I know there are doubts and accusations against him. But if you truly believe Beomgyu could never do the things they’re accusing him of, you have to stand by him. Just like I should have stood by Brandon.”
Yeonjun’s thoughts raced as he processed his mother’s words. “So you’re saying I should fight for Beomgyu, even if the evidence seems to point against him?”
Tiffany nodded, her eyes searching his for understanding. “Yes. If you believe in his innocence, don’t let fear or doubt make you abandon him. Stand up for him, help clear his name, and make sure justice is served correctly.”
Yeonjun looked away, his mind grappling with the complexity of the situation. “But what if I’m wrong? What if there’s something I don’t know?”
“Then you’ll have to face that truth,” Tiffany said. “But don’t let that stop you from supporting your friend and seeking the truth. The worst mistake is to stand idly by and let someone suffer because of a mistake or misunderstanding.”
Yeonjun took a moment to absorb her words, his determination growing stronger. “I understand. I’ll do what I can to help Beomgyu. I won’t let my fears keep me from doing what’s right.”
Tiffany’s face softened with relief and pride. “I’m glad to hear that, Yeonjun. Just remember, it’s not about being perfect or having all the answers. It’s about standing up for what you believe is right.”
Yeonjun embraced his mother, grateful for her wisdom and support. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll make sure to remember that.”
As they stood together, the past and present intertwined in a shared resolve. Tiffany’s regrets and Yeonjun’s commitment to his friend became a beacon of hope amidst the darkness, guiding them toward a future where justice and understanding could prevail.
======================================================
Yeonjun walked into the bustling sheriff’s station, his heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety and determination. He spotted Detective Yoona at her desk, engrossed in paperwork. Taking a deep breath, he approached her with a sense of purpose.
“Detective Yoona,” Yeonjun said, trying to keep his voice steady.
Yoona looked up, her gaze sharp and inquisitive. “Yeonjun. What brings you here?”
“I have something for you,” Yeonjun said, sliding a folder across the desk. “It’s an alibi for Beomgyu.”
Yoona raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued. “An alibi? For the night of Sohee’s murder?”
Yeonjun nodded, forcing himself to remain calm. “Yes. I was with Beomgyu and Taehyun that night. We were at Taehyun’s place, watching movies.”
Yoona took the folder and opened it. Inside was a printed selfie of Yeonjun, Beomgyu, and Taehyun, all smiling in what appeared to be a casual setting. “This is the evidence?”
“Yes,” Yeonjun replied. “I took the picture that night.”
Yoona scrutinized the photo closely, her eyes scanning for any signs of tampering. “It looks convincing. But I’ll need to verify this with Beomgyu's father if it is true that the three of you were there.”
“Sure,” Yeonjun said quickly.
Yoona raised her eyes from the photo, her expression thoughtful. “Alright, I’ll run a check. But if this alibi checks out, it’ll definitely help Beomgyu’s case.”
“Thank you,” Yeonjun said, trying to mask his relief. “I really hope this helps.”
An hour later, Yoona called Yeonjun back to her office. “The alibi checks out,” she confirmed. “Beomgyu's father has corroborated your story. We’ve released Beomgyu.”
Yeonjun’s face broke into a relieved smile. “Thank you, Detective. I appreciate it.”
Yoona nodded, her expression still serious. “Just remember, Yeonjun. The investigation is far from over. If we find any further evidence linking Beomgyu to the crimes, we’ll have to reconsider.”
“I understand,” Yeonjun said, “but for now, I’m just glad he’s out.”
As Yeonjun left the station, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of relief. Beomgyu’s freedom was a small victory, but it also meant that the danger wasn’t over. He knew he’d have to stay vigilant and continue to fight for the truth.
Back at home, Jaehyun greeted him with a knowing look. “So? How did it go?”
“Beomgyu’s out,” Yeonjun said, showing Jaehyun a weary smile. “The photo worked. But we need to stay on top of things. This isn’t over yet.”
Jaehyun nodded, his face serious. “Agreed. We need to keep our eyes open and make sure we’re not missing anything.”
Yeonjun sat down heavily, feeling a mix of exhaustion and resolve. “I just hope we’re getting closer to the truth.”
Jaehyun put a hand on his shoulder. “We will. We just have to keep pushing forward.”
As the two friends sat in contemplation, the weight of their efforts and the looming uncertainty of their investigation hung over them, a reminder of the fragile balance between truth and deception in their quest for justice.
======================================================
Gunwook walked into the dimly lit office of Mayor Taehyung, a heavy envelope clutched in his hand. The Mayor sat behind his polished desk, a stern expression on his face, as he waited for Gunwook's arrival. The tension in the room was palpable.
"Mayor Taehyung," Gunwook greeted, his voice steady despite the weight of the situation.
"Gunwook," Taehyung responded with a nod. "I assume you’re here to make amends?"
Gunwook placed the envelope on the desk, sliding it toward the Mayor. "All the money you've paid so far and the last copy of the video. Consider it all returned."
Taehyung eyed the envelope warily before looking back at Gunwook. "And why should I trust that this is all of it?"
Gunwook offered a reassuring smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "I don’t want any more trouble. I’m done with this. It’s all here, as promised."
The Mayor's hand hovered near a drawer where his revolver was kept. His gaze was fixed on Gunwook, the unease clear in his posture. "You know, I could end this right now. No more blackmail, no more games."
Gunwook’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a more serious expression. "I’m just here to return what’s yours. No need for violence."
Taehyung’s fingers tightened around the edge of the desk as he wrestled with his decision. After a moment of tense silence, he pulled his hand away from the drawer. "Fine. I’ll give you a warning. But if you ever cross me again, it won’t end well for you."
Gunwook nodded, pretending to accept the warning. "Understood."
As he turned to leave, he gave the Mayor a parting glance. "You won’t see me again."
Unbeknownst to Taehyung, Gunwook had set up a discreet surveillance camera in the Mayor’s office before the meeting. The real reason behind the return of the money was not merely to end the blackmail but to provide Taehyung with a false sense of security.
======================================================
Gunwook and Hanbin moved swiftly through the dimly lit corridors of the abandoned building, the tension in the air palpable. Gunwook, determined and focused, led the way with Hanbin following close behind. He glanced over his shoulder, checking the small surveillance camera they had set up for the Mayor’s office.
“Everything’s in place,” Gunwook whispered, his voice echoing off the cracked walls. “Once Hanbin releases this footage, it’ll put a lot of pressure on the Mayor.”
Hanbin nodded, clutching a briefcase filled with notes and a small camera. “This is going to expose him, Gunwook. The public will know the truth.”
Just as they reached the exit, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway behind them. Gunwook’s eyes widened. “Hanbin, we’re not alone.”
Before Hanbin could respond, the heavy metal door they had come through slammed shut with a resounding clank. Gunwook tried the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. “It’s locked!”
A sinister chuckle filled the air. Gunwook spun around to see Ghostface emerging from the shadows, the mask gleaming in the dim light. Hanbin’s face went pale as he fumbled with his phone, trying to call for help.
Ghostface moved with a chilling calmness, drawing a knife from under his cloak. “I see you’ve been busy, Gunwook.”
Gunwook’s heart raced. “Get away from us!”
Ghostface lunged forward. Gunwook barely had time to react as the knife slashed across his arm. He stumbled backward, gritting his teeth against the pain. “Hanbin! Help me!”
Hanbin, panicked and disoriented, attempted to run, but he tripped and crashed into a piece of concrete. His head hit the ground with a dull thud, and he lay unconscious, sprawled out on the floor.
Gunwook’s vision blurred as Ghostface advanced. He crawled towards Hanbin, trying to shake him awake. “Hanbin! Wake up! We need to get out of here!”
Ghostface grabbed Gunwook by the collar, dragging him away from Hanbin. Gunwook’s protests grew weaker as he was pulled across the floor, his strength fading. “No… please… someone… help…”
Ghostface’s voice was cold and mocking. “You thought you could outsmart me? You’re just another pawn in this game.”
Gunwook tried to push away, but the pain was overwhelming. The world around him grew dim as Ghostface’s grip tightened.
Through the haze of his pain and desperation, Gunwook saw a flicker of light—an emergency exit sign faintly glowing in the distance. If he could just reach it...
“Let him go!” Hanbin’s voice rang out, though it was weak and strained. He was slowly coming to, his vision clearing.
Ghostface glanced over, momentarily distracted by Hanbin’s movement. Gunwook took the chance to wriggle free, but Ghostface was quick to react, slashing at Gunwook’s leg and sending him sprawling back to the ground.
Gunwook’s breaths came in ragged gasps as he tried to crawl away. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was Ghostface looming over him, the knife gleaming ominously.
The abandoned building fell silent except for the soft sound of Hanbin’s groans and the distant hum of the emergency exit sign. Gunwook’s world darkened as the chilling reality of their situation set in.
Chapter 7: In The Trenches
Notes:
"You've been playing with the fire"
Chapter Text
Gunwook’s eyes fluttered open, his head pounding as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The air was thick with the smell of hay and damp earth. He attempted to move, but a sharp pain shot through his wrist. He looked down and realized he was chained to a rusted metal bar, the cold iron biting into his skin.
Panic set in as he tugged at the chain, the links rattling with each desperate pull. “Help!” he shouted, his voice hoarse and cracking. “Is anyone there?”
The only response was the distant sound of birds chirping outside, their songs eerily calm against the backdrop of his fear. Somewhere nearby, a rooster crowed, the sound piercing the quiet morning air. Gunwook’s heart raced as he realized how isolated he was—no one was coming to help.
He strained to see his surroundings, his eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through cracks in the wooden walls. He was in what looked like an old farmhouse, the interior sparse and decaying. A few broken tools lay scattered on the dirt floor, and cobwebs hung from the rafters like forgotten memories.
“Please, someone… anyone…” Gunwook’s voice trembled as he continued to shout, but the farmhouse remained silent, as if it were holding its breath. He struggled against the chain again, his wrists raw and bleeding, but it was no use. The metal was solid, and the lock securing it was far out of reach.
A wave of despair washed over him as he slumped against the wall. He thought back to the events that led him here, the encounter with Ghostface, the trap they had walked into. He tried to remember how he ended up in this place, but his mind was foggy, the details blurred by pain and fear.
Gunwook’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. His heart leapt into his throat as the door creaked open, revealing the shadowy figure of Ghostface standing in the doorway. The mask glinted in the dim light, the expressionless face a stark contrast to the fear twisting inside Gunwook.
“Why are you doing this?” Gunwook demanded, his voice wavering. “What do you want from me?”
Ghostface stepped closer, the knife in his hand reflecting a sliver of light. “You’ve been playing with fire, Gunwook,” the distorted voice hissed from behind the mask. “And now, you’re going to burn.”
Gunwook’s breath hitched as he watched Ghostface circle around him, the chain rattling as he instinctively pulled away. “You don’t have to do this… whatever it is you’re planning, you can stop now.”
Ghostface paused, the mask tilting slightly as if considering Gunwook’s plea. But then, with a slow, deliberate movement, Ghostface leaned down, the knife tracing a line along Gunwook’s cheek. “You were always so good at manipulating others. Now, let’s see how well you handle being the one with no control.”
Gunwook’s skin prickled with fear as he felt the cold blade against his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to stay calm. “Please… let me go. I won’t tell anyone. I swear.”
Ghostface didn’t respond, instead stepping back and walking towards the door. Just before leaving, the masked figure turned and spoke one last time. “Enjoy your stay, Gunwook. I’ll be back soon enough.”
With that, the door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the empty farmhouse. Gunwook was left in the dim silence once more, his heart pounding in his chest. He was alone, chained, and completely at the mercy of a killer.
As the minutes dragged on, the reality of his situation began to sink in. He had no idea how long he’d been unconscious, how long he’d been here, or what Ghostface’s plans were. All he knew was that he had to find a way out before it was too late.
======================================================
Soobin and Yeonjun had quickly become the talk of the school, their relationship sparking both admiration and gossip. Despite the awkwardness of their parents dating, the two seemed inseparable, their chemistry undeniable. They walked hand in hand through the school hallways, earning envious glances and whispered comments from their peers.
But today, Yeonjun’s usual smile was replaced with a furrowed brow. He glanced at his phone, the last text from Gunwook replaying in his mind. It was short, cryptic: “Need to talk. Urgent.” That was hours ago, and since then, there had been nothing but silence.
Soobin noticed the change in Yeonjun’s demeanor as they sat down at their usual table in the cafeteria. “You’ve been quiet all day,” Soobin remarked, his voice soft with concern. “What’s going on?”
Yeonjun sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s Gunwook… He sent me a weird text this morning, and now I can’t reach him. I’ve called and texted, but nothing. It’s not like him to just disappear.”
Soobin frowned, leaning closer. “You think something’s happened to him?”
“I don’t know.” Yeonjun’s voice was laced with worry. “I just have a bad feeling about this.”
Deciding he couldn’t wait any longer, Yeonjun stood up. “I’m going to find Sunghoon and Sunoo. Maybe they’ve seen him.”
Soobin nodded, standing up with him. “I’ll come with you.”
They found Sunghoon and Sunoo outside, lounging on the bleachers. As Yeonjun and Soobin approached, Sunghoon looked up, sensing the urgency in Yeonjun’s expression.
“Hey, have you guys seen Gunwook?” Yeonjun asked, not wasting any time.
Sunoo shook his head, a puzzled look crossing his face. “No, I haven’t seen him since yesterday. Why? What’s up?”
“He sent me a weird text this morning, and now I can’t find him,” Yeonjun explained, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice. “It’s like he’s just vanished.”
Sunghoon exchanged a glance with Sunoo before looking back at Yeonjun. “That’s strange… Gunwook’s not the type to just go off the grid. Did he say anything else?”
“No, just that he needed to talk and that it was urgent.” Yeonjun’s grip tightened on his phone. “I’m starting to think something’s really wrong.”
Soobin placed a reassuring hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder. “We’ll find him. Maybe he just needed some space.”
“Maybe,” Yeonjun muttered, though his gut told him otherwise.
Sunoo bit his lip, a thoughtful expression on his face. “You don’t think… this could have something to do with what’s been happening around here, do you?”
Yeonjun didn’t answer right away, his mind racing. He hadn’t considered the possibility that Gunwook could be in danger, but with everything that had happened recently, it wasn’t far-fetched.
“I don’t know,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t shake the feeling that something bad is about to happen.”
======================================================
Yeonjun’s heart sank further as he recalled the last message from Gunwook: *“I tried to make things right last night, but I messed up. I’m sorry, Yeonjun.”* The cryptic text had been gnawing at him all morning, and now, with Gunwook nowhere to be found, it felt like a bad omen.
As they continued searching, Yeonjun decided to share the details with Sunghoon and Sunoo. “There’s something else… Gunwook mentioned that he tried to fix something last night, but it didn’t go as planned. It sounded serious.”
Sunghoon, who had been walking slightly ahead, stopped in his tracks. A thoughtful expression crossed his face, as if he was piecing something together. “Wait… You think he was trying to make things right with the Mayor?”
Yeonjun frowned, confused. “The Mayor? What does Gunwook have to do with him?”
Sunoo hesitated before speaking up, his voice tinged with worry. “My dad… He went out late last night. Didn’t say where he was going, but he seemed tense. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now… it makes sense.”
Sunghoon nodded, his suspicions seemingly confirmed. “Gunwook’s been involved in some shady business with the Mayor. Blackmail, to be exact.”
Yeonjun’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Blackmail? Gunwook?”
“Yeah,” Sunghoon admitted, looking uneasy. “He and I weren’t exactly on the straight and narrow, but Gunwook… He took it further. He was blackmailing Sunoo’s dad with some incriminating evidence. I think he tried to meet with the Mayor last night to resolve things, but clearly, something went wrong.”
Yeonjun’s mind raced as he processed the information. “You think the Mayor had something to do with Gunwook’s disappearance?”
“It’s possible,” Sunoo said, his voice trembling slightly. “My dad’s been under a lot of stress lately, and if Gunwook pushed him too far…”
Before they could delve deeper into the conversation, Sung Hanbin suddenly appeared from around the corner, his expression urgent. “Yeonjun, we need to talk. Now.”
The three of them turned to face Hanbin, who looked like he hadn’t slept all night. His normally composed demeanor was replaced with one of panic and desperation.
“What’s going on?” Yeonjun asked, his anxiety spiking again.
Hanbin glanced at Sunghoon and Sunoo, then back at Yeonjun. “It’s about Gunwook. There’s something you need to know—something that could explain everything.”
Yeonjun exchanged a worried look with Sunghoon and Sunoo before nodding. “Alright, Hanbin. Let’s talk. But whatever it is, we need to find Gunwook first. He might be in serious danger.”
Hanbin’s face grew even more grave. “That’s what I’m afraid of. You’re not the only one looking for him.”
======================================================
Hanbin led the group through the narrow, overgrown path that wound its way toward an abandoned building. The air was thick with tension, each of them keenly aware of how serious the situation had become. As they reached the entrance, Hanbin paused, pointing to a section of the ground where the dirt was disturbed.
“This is where it happened,” Hanbin said quietly, his voice still carrying a tremor. “Last night, Gunwook and I were here. We were supposed to meet, but something went wrong. I was knocked out before I could see who it was.”
Sunghoon's gaze darkened as he took in the familiar surroundings. “This is the same place where Gunwook and I did the money exchanges with Sunoo’s father,” he admitted, guilt weighing heavy in his voice. He turned to Sunoo, his eyes filled with a rare sincerity. “I didn’t want you to know about any of this. I was trying to protect you, but… I should have told you the truth.”
Sunoo, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, looked at Sunghoon with a mix of hurt and understanding. “You were protecting me by keeping me in the dark? My dad… he was doing all of this behind my back?”
Sunghoon nodded, his expression softening. “Yeah, and I’m sorry, Sunoo. I didn’t want you involved in any of this mess. But now… now we need to figure out where Gunwook is, and I think your dad might be the key.”
Yeonjun scanned the area, his mind racing as he tried to piece everything together. “So Gunwook came here to meet the Mayor, things went wrong, and now he’s missing. But why here? Why this place?”
Sunghoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “This place is secluded, off the radar. It was perfect for the kind of exchanges we were doing. No one was supposed to find out, but now… Now it’s all falling apart.”
Hanbin, still visibly shaken, glanced nervously around as if expecting someone to jump out at them. “We need to find Gunwook before it’s too late. Whoever attacked me last night isn’t going to stop.”
Sunoo’s voice wavered as he asked, “Do you think my dad could have… could have hurt Gunwook?”
Sunghoon hesitated before answering, “I don’t know, Sunoo. But we can’t rule anything out. Your dad’s been under a lot of pressure. If he thought Gunwook was going to expose him…”
Yeonjun clenched his fists, determination setting in. “We have to get to the bottom of this. If Gunwook is still alive, we need to find him before it’s too late.”
Hanbin nodded in agreement, his resolve hardening. “Let’s split up and search the area. We’ll cover more ground that way. But stay close. Whoever’s behind this could still be out here.”
As they began their search, Sunghoon caught Sunoo’s arm, stopping him for a moment. “Sunoo… I’m sorry. I never wanted things to get this bad.”
Sunoo looked at Sunghoon, his eyes filled with conflicting emotions. “Just promise me we’ll find Gunwook, and we’ll figure out how to make this right.”
“I promise,” Sunghoon said, his voice sincere.
With that, they joined the others in the search, each of them hoping they weren’t too late. The truth had finally come out, but with Gunwook’s life on the line, they knew the real battle had just begun.
======================================================
The group moved cautiously through the dilapidated building, the atmosphere thick with unease. The walls were covered in peeling paint, and the floor creaked ominously beneath their feet. Sunghoon led the way, his eyes darting around for any sign of Gunwook. Sunoo and Hanbin followed close behind, their expressions tense, while Yeonjun trailed slightly, lost in his thoughts.
As they reached a room at the end of the hallway, Yeonjun’s attention was caught by something pinned to the wall. He walked over and saw a note written in bold, jagged handwriting. The message was chilling in its simplicity:
“No cops, Yeonjun.”
Yeonjun’s heart skipped a beat as he read the words. The note was meant for him, a direct threat. Before he could react, his phone buzzed in his pocket. The sudden noise startled everyone, and Yeonjun quickly pulled it out, recognizing the number immediately. It was an unknown caller—Ghostface.
He answered with a trembling hand, putting the phone to his ear. “What do you want?”
Ghostface’s voice was distorted, cold, and menacing. “Hello, Yeonjun. Enjoying the hunt? I see you found my little note. Gunwook’s life is in your hands now.”
“Where is he?” Yeonjun demanded, his voice tight with fear and anger.
A sinister chuckle echoed through the phone. “All in good time. But first, you’re going to play a little game with me. Do you remember Brandon and Daisy?”
Yeonjun’s blood ran cold. “What are you talking about?”
“Hide and seek, Yeonjun. Just like Brandon and Daisy. You want to find Gunwook? Then you’ll have to play. I’ll give you a head start, but if you don’t find him in time… well, let’s just say you’ll be looking for a body instead.”
Yeonjun’s grip tightened on the phone, his mind racing. “Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?”
“What I want is for you to understand what it feels like to be hunted, to feel the fear coursing through your veins. Just like Brandon did. Just like I did.”
Sunghoon, seeing Yeonjun’s distress, moved closer, his expression a mix of concern and urgency. “Yeonjun, what’s going on? What did they say?”
Yeonjun covered the receiver, whispering to Sunghoon, “It’s Ghostface. He wants me to play a game of hide and seek to find Gunwook.”
Sunghoon’s eyes widened. “That’s insane! We don’t have time for this. We need to find Gunwook now!”
Ghostface’s voice cut through their conversation, sharp and mocking. “Tick-tock, Yeonjun. Time’s running out. The game has already begun.”
The line went dead, leaving Yeonjun with nothing but the sound of his own rapid breathing. He lowered the phone, feeling a sense of dread wash over him.
“We don’t have a choice,” Yeonjun said, his voice steadying as he looked at the others. “We have to play this game if we want to find Gunwook alive.”
Hanbin frowned, his fear evident. “But what if it’s a trap? What if we’re just playing into Ghostface’s hands?”
“It probably is a trap,” Yeonjun admitted, “but we can’t risk Gunwook’s life. We have to find him, and this might be the only way.”
Sunoo, who had been silent, finally spoke up, his voice trembling. “How do we even play this game? Where do we start?”
Yeonjun looked around the room, his mind racing for answers. “We need to split up and search every inch of this building. Look for anything out of place, anything that might be a clue. And stay in contact. If anyone finds something, let the others know immediately.”
Sunghoon nodded, determination in his eyes. “We’ll find him, Yeonjun. We won’t let Ghostface win.”
With that, the group split up, each of them taking a different direction through the building. The clock was ticking, and the stakes had never been higher. Yeonjun knew that every second counted, and as he moved through the dark, eerie corridors, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. Ghostface was out there, playing his twisted game, and the only way to win was to find Gunwook before it was too late.
======================================================
Yeonjun burst into Jaehyun's cluttered apartment, his face flushed with urgency. Jaehyun looked up from his array of monitors, surprised by the sudden intrusion.
"Yeonjun? What's going on?" Jaehyun asked, pulling off his headphones.
"I need your help," Yeonjun panted, catching his breath. "I need to track Gunwook's phone. He's missing, and I think he's in serious danger."
Jaehyun's expression shifted to concern. Without hesitation, he swiveled his chair toward his computer setup. "Alright, give me his number. I'll see what I can do."
Yeonjun rattled off the number, pacing anxiously as Jaehyun's fingers flew over the keyboard. Minutes felt like hours as the tracking software worked its magic. Finally, a red dot blinked on the screen.
"Got it," Jaehyun announced. "His phone's located at the old abandoned bowling alley on the outskirts of town."
Yeonjun's heart raced. "That's not far from here. I'm heading out."
"Wait," Jaehyun interjected, standing up. "You're not going alone, are you?"
Yeonjun hesitated. "I have to. Time's running out."
Jaehyun grabbed his jacket. "No way. I'm coming with you. You shouldn't face this alone."
Yeonjun gave a grateful nod. "Alright, let's go."
Meanwhile, at Sunoo's home, a tense confrontation was unfolding. Sunoo stood in his father's study, his eyes searching his father's face for any hint of truth.
"Dad, I need to know," Sunoo pressed, his voice shaky yet determined. "Do you have any idea where Gunwook is?"
Mayor Taehyung avoided his son's gaze, shuffling some papers on his desk. "I don't know what you're talking about, Sunoo."
Sunoo's frustration bubbled over. "Don't lie to me! I know about the blackmail. I know Gunwook met with you last night. What happened?"
Taehyung's jaw tightened, but he remained silent.
Sunoo took a deep breath, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, Dad. If you know something, tell me. His life could be in danger."
After a moment of strained silence, Taehyung finally spoke, his voice low. "He came to return what he took. That’s all. I sent him away."
Sunoo searched his father's face, sensing the half-truth. "You're hiding something."
Taehyung looked away, unable to meet his son's piercing gaze.
Realizing he wouldn't get more out of his father, Sunoo turned on his heel and left the study, his mind racing. As he stepped outside, he pulled out his phone and called Sunghoon.
"Sunghoon," Sunoo began as soon as the call connected, "I think I know where Gunwook might be."
"Where?" Sunghoon's voice crackled with anticipation.
"There's an old farmhouse near the edge of town. My dad used to take me there when I was little. It's secluded, and he always kept it a secret. I think Gunwook might be there."
Sunghoon paused. "It’s worth checking out. Yeonjun's heading to the abandoned bowling alley where Gunwook's phone is pinging. We should meet up with him."
"Agreed," Sunoo replied. "I'll send you the location. Let's get there as soon as possible."
======================================================
The abandoned bowling alley loomed over them, its once-vibrant facade now faded and crumbling with age. The group stood at the entrance, the wind whispering through broken windows, carrying the scent of decay and dust.
“This place is huge,” Sunghoon remarked, glancing around uneasily. “We should split up to cover more ground.”
Yeonjun nodded, his jaw set with determination. “Jaehyun and I will take the east side. You two check out the west. If anyone finds Gunwook, shout or text immediately.”
The group exchanged brief nods before separating into their pairs. Jaehyun and Yeonjun moved off toward the left, their flashlights casting long beams of light that cut through the darkness.
As Sunghoon and Sunoo headed to the right, the atmosphere between them grew tense, thick with the unspoken feelings that had been simmering for weeks. They walked side by side, their footsteps echoing in the cavernous space, until they reached a row of empty lanes.
Sunoo glanced at Sunghoon, his heart pounding a little harder in his chest. “Do you really think we’ll find him here?” he asked, more to fill the silence than out of any real curiosity.
Sunghoon shrugged, but his gaze lingered on Sunoo a moment too long. “I don’t know. But we’ve gotta try.”
The tension hung in the air between them, palpable and heavy. Sunghoon’s mind was racing, torn between the urgency of their search and the way his thoughts kept drifting to the boy beside him.
“I’m gonna check the bathroom real quick,” Sunghoon said abruptly, needing a moment to collect himself. “Stay here, okay?”
Sunoo nodded, watching as Sunghoon disappeared around a corner, leaving him alone in the dimly lit space. The silence that followed was oppressive, wrapping around Sunoo like a blanket.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm the unease creeping up his spine. But then, faintly at first, he heard it—a shuffling sound, like something being dragged across the floor.
“Sunghoon?” Sunoo called out, his voice trembling slightly. But there was no answer. The sound grew louder, closer, and Sunoo's heart began to race.
He spun around, his flashlight trembling in his hand, casting erratic shadows against the peeling wallpaper. The sound stopped, leaving only the deafening silence.
Then, out of the darkness, a figure emerged—Ghostface, knife gleaming in the dim light, stood just a few feet away. Sunoo’s breath caught in his throat as terror surged through him.
Before Sunoo could scream, Ghostface lunged, the knife slicing through the air with deadly precision. Sunoo barely had time to react, stumbling backward, his legs tangling with the bowling shoes scattered across the floor.
He hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the breath from his lungs. Ghostface loomed over him, raising the knife for the kill.
Just as Sunoo’s life flashed before his eyes, Sunghoon’s voice rang out from the bathroom, echoing through the alley. “Sunoo? You okay?”
The brief distraction was all Sunoo needed. With a surge of adrenaline, he kicked out at Ghostface, catching him in the shin. The killer staggered back, giving Sunoo the precious seconds he needed to scramble to his feet.
“Sunghoon!” Sunoo screamed, bolting down the lane as fast as his legs would carry him. “Run!”
Sunghoon burst out of the bathroom, his eyes widening in shock as he saw Ghostface chasing after Sunoo. Without a second thought, Sunghoon grabbed a nearby chair and hurled it at the killer, buying them both a few more moments.
======================================================
Yeonjun's mind raced as he stared at the piece of paper in his hands, the hastily scribbled riddle twisting and turning in his thoughts like a thorny puzzle. The words haunted him:
*"In a room where no balls roll,
You’ll find what you seek in a soul’s black hole."*
“What the hell does this mean?” Yeonjun muttered under his breath, frustration seeping into his voice. He was pacing back and forth in the dimly lit bowling alley, the walls closing in on him with each step.
Jaehyun, who had been scanning the riddle over Yeonjun's shoulder, suddenly stopped him. “Wait,” he said, piecing it together. “A room where no balls roll… it’s the control room. The one where they manage the lanes and the pins. No balls actually roll in there.”
Yeonjun’s eyes widened as the realization hit him. “And a soul’s black hole... the despair, the fear... Oh God, Jaehyun, he’s in the control room.”
They didn’t waste another second. The two of them sprinted down the narrow hallway, pushing past old equipment and debris, until they reached a door with a faded sign reading “Control Room.”
Yeonjun’s hands shook as he grabbed the handle, flinging the door open. The room was dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of the emergency exit signs. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust, but when they did, the sight made their blood run cold.
Gunwook was hanging by a thick rope from the ceiling, his body lifeless, swaying gently back and forth. His face was pale, eyes closed, as if he were already gone.
“No!” Yeonjun screamed, rushing forward with Jaehyun close behind. “Gunwook! Hang on!”
They struggled to get him down, frantically trying to untie the knot that held him suspended. Sunoo, drawn by Yeonjun’s cry, stumbled into the room, his face a mask of horror as he saw Gunwook hanging there.
“Gunwook!” Sunoo’s voice cracked with panic as he ran to their side, his hands trembling as he helped them lower Gunwook to the ground.
They laid him down gently, and Jaehyun quickly checked for a pulse, his face pale. “It’s weak, but it’s there. We need to get him breathing.”
“We don’t have cell service,” Yeonjun muttered, his voice desperate as he tried to think. “We can’t call for help.”
Sunoo fell to his knees beside Gunwook, tears welling in his eyes. “Come on, Gunwook,” he whispered. “Don’t do this to us. Please.”
Yeonjun tilted Gunwook’s head back, his hands steadying as he began CPR, pushing down on Gunwook’s chest with rhythmic compressions. “Come on, come on,” he chanted under his breath, his focus narrowing to just this moment, this task.
The silence in the room was oppressive, only broken by the sound of Yeonjun’s efforts and the faint gasps of breath from the others. Time seemed to stretch out endlessly.
And then, suddenly, Gunwook’s body jerked, a sharp gasp escaping his lips as he came to, his eyes fluttering open in confusion.
“He’s breathing!” Jaehyun exclaimed, relief flooding his voice as he checked Gunwook’s pulse again. “He’s alive!”
Sunoo let out a sob, clutching Gunwook’s hand tightly as he whispered, “Thank God. I thought we lost you.”
Gunwook’s eyes flickered around the room, his face etched with pain and confusion. “What… happened?” he croaked out, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You’re safe now,” Yeonjun assured him, though his voice wavered with the weight of everything that had just happened. “We’re getting you out of here.”
They helped Gunwook to his feet, supporting his weight between them as they made their way out of the control room, the sense of urgency still driving them. Sunghoon was still somewhere in the building, and there were too many questions left unanswered. But with each step they took, they knew they were one step closer to surviving this nightmare.
======================================================
The air in the abandoned bowling alley was thick with tension, every creak and groan of the building amplifying their fear. Gunwook, still weak but determined, clung to Yeonjun and Jaehyun as they supported his weight, the urgency of their situation driving them forward. They needed to find Sunghoon and get out of this place before Ghostface struck again.
"Sunghoon could be anywhere in here," Sunoo said, his voice trembling as he glanced around nervously. "We have to move fast."
"We will," Yeonjun replied, trying to keep the group focused. "We stick together, keep our heads down, and find him. We can’t afford to split up."
They hurried through the dimly lit corridors, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the empty space. Every shadow seemed to hold a threat, every distant noise a warning. It felt like they were being watched, hunted.
As they turned a corner, Yeonjun’s eyes caught something on the ground. A small, old tape recorder, with a piece of paper taped to it. His heart pounded as he bent down to pick it up, knowing all too well what it meant. The note, written in the same scrawled handwriting as before, simply read:
"Play me."
Yeonjun hesitated for a moment, his fingers hovering over the play button. The others gathered around him, their expressions a mix of fear and curiosity.
"Do we have to?" Sunoo whispered, his voice barely audible. "What if it’s a trap?"
"It probably is," Jaehyun said grimly, "but we don’t have a choice. The killer wants us to play it."
With a deep breath, Yeonjun pressed the button. The recorder whirred to life, and a distorted voice filled the air.
*"You’re running out of time, Yeonjun. How many lives will you let slip through your fingers before you finally take responsibility? The game isn’t over until I say it is. Find Sunghoon, or the next tape you hear will be his last."*
The message ended with a click, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Yeonjun’s stomach churned as the meaning of the words sank in. The killer was toying with them, pushing them to the brink.
"We need to find him now," Yeonjun said, his voice filled with urgency. "We can’t let this maniac win."
They started moving again, but their pace was even more frantic. The fear that had been simmering just beneath the surface now threatened to boil over.
As they neared another hallway, they suddenly heard a noise—a faint rustling, like someone moving quickly. The group froze, their eyes darting around in the dim light.
"Sunghoon?" Yeonjun called out cautiously.
There was no response, but the rustling grew louder, closer.
And then, out of the shadows, Ghostface emerged, the white mask gleaming in the dark. The killer's presence was like a shot of adrenaline to the group, sending them into a panicked scramble.
"Run!" Jaehyun shouted, his voice breaking the paralysis that had gripped them.
The group bolted in different directions, their fear overcoming the need to stick together. Yeonjun sprinted down a narrow corridor, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looked for any place to hide. He could hear the others scattering, their footsteps echoing through the building.
Sunoo dashed into an old storage room, his heart pounding in his chest. He pressed himself against the wall, trying to control his breathing, hoping Ghostface hadn’t seen him. But the darkness was suffocating, and the fear that gripped him made every second feel like an eternity.
Meanwhile, Jaehyun and Gunwook had taken another path, slipping into what looked like an employee break room. Jaehyun locked the door behind them, his hands shaking. "We’re safe for now," he muttered, trying to reassure both Gunwook and himself. But the reality was far from comforting. Ghostface was out there, and they were trapped.
Yeonjun, still running, stumbled into a small office space, his eyes darting around for anything he could use to defend himself. The killer was after them, and they had no way of knowing who would be next.
As the seconds ticked by, the tension mounted, each member of the group isolated, waiting, hoping that they wouldn’t be the next victim.
And then, the silence was shattered by the sound of heavy footsteps, closing in on their hiding spots.
======================================================
The bowling alley's disorienting maze of corridors seemed endless as Sunoo stumbled through the dark. His heart pounded in his chest, each step echoing louder than the last. His mind was a whirlwind of fear and adrenaline. He had to find Sunghoon, had to make sure he was okay.
As he turned another corner, he saw a crumpled figure on the floor. Sunghoon lay there, a knife protruding from his side. Sunoo's breath caught in his throat as he rushed to his friend, kneeling beside him.
"Sunghoon!" Sunoo cried out, panic lacing his voice. He reached for the knife, trembling hands careful as he gripped the handle.
Sunghoon's eyes fluttered open, and he let out a sharp cry of pain as Sunoo pulled the knife free. The wound was deep, and blood seeped out rapidly.
"Hang on, Sunghoon! We need to get you out of here," Sunoo said urgently, trying to apply pressure to the wound.
Sunghoon gasped for breath, his face contorted in agony. "Sunoo... it’s too late for me. You have to... find the others."
Sunoo’s heart sank, but he knew he couldn’t afford to break down now. He tore a strip from his shirt and wrapped it around Sunghoon’s wound, trying to staunch the bleeding as best as he could. "Just hold on. I’m getting help."
Meanwhile, Yeonjun was darting through the bowling alley, his senses on high alert. His every step felt like it was echoing in the silence. He had just caught a glimpse of the killer moving stealthily behind him. Fear surged through him as he raced around the corner, narrowly avoiding a deadly grasp.
His breath came in ragged gasps as he turned another corner, desperately searching for an escape. He barely had time to process the horror of the situation before Ghostface was right on his heels, the masked figure's breathing heavy and ominous.
Just as Ghostface lunged for him, a sudden force sent the killer crashing to the ground. Yeonjun looked up to see Gunwook, looking disheveled but determined, standing over Ghostface.
"Go! Find the others!" Gunwook shouted, his voice fierce as he tried to keep Ghostface restrained.
Yeonjun didn’t need any more encouragement. He sprinted off, his mind racing with thoughts of his friends and the impending danger.
At that moment, the sound of sirens blared through the building. The police had arrived. Flashing lights cut through the darkness, and uniformed officers poured into the bowling alley, their presence a welcome relief.
"Hands in the air!" one of the officers shouted, taking in the chaotic scene with wide eyes. The sight of the arriving law enforcement brought a brief moment of hope amidst the chaos.
Gunwook, grappling with Ghostface, was finally able to pin him down with the help of the officers. The killer struggled, but the combined force of Gunwook and the police managed to subdue him.
Yeonjun raced back to Sunoo and Sunghoon, relief flooding through him as he saw the officers now tending to them. Sunoo was still by Sunghoon’s side, his face pale but determined.
"Help him, please!" Sunoo pleaded with the officers, his voice cracking with desperation.
The paramedics moved quickly, lifting Sunghoon onto a stretcher and rushing him out of the building. Sunoo followed, his eyes never leaving his injured friend.
Yeonjun approached Gunwook, who was now being questioned by the police. "Are you okay?" Yeonjun asked, his voice tinged with concern.
Gunwook gave a weary nod. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just... glad the cops got here in time."
They stood there, the adrenaline slowly fading as the reality of what had happened began to sink in. The police were in control now, and the nightmare was finally coming to an end. For now, at least.
======================================================
The abandoned bowling alley was a labyrinth of darkness and fear. Sunoo, breathless from running, stumbled upon Sunghoon lying on the floor in a pool of dim light. His heart sank as he saw the knife lodged in Sunghoon’s side.
“No... Sunghoon!” Sunoo rushed to his friend’s side, his hands trembling as he carefully pulled out the knife. Sunghoon’s eyes fluttered open, and he gasped in pain, a loud scream escaping his lips.
“Hang on, Sunghoon! I’m going to get you out of here,” Sunoo said urgently, his voice cracking with panic. He pressed his hand against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but his own fear made his efforts shaky and desperate.
Meanwhile, Yeonjun was in a frenzied state, darting through the darkened corridors. The footsteps of Ghostface were getting closer, and the sensation of being hunted was almost paralyzing. As Yeonjun turned a corner, he saw the killer’s shadow looming behind him, the knife glinting ominously.
Yeonjun’s breath hitched in his throat as he whipped around, barely dodging the killer’s outstretched hand. With a burst of adrenaline, he sprinted in the opposite direction, his heart pounding furiously against his ribcage.
“No! Not today!” Yeonjun shouted to himself, the echo of his own voice barely masking his fear. He raced down another hallway, the cold sweat on his back chilling him to the bone.
Just as Ghostface was closing in on Yeonjun, preparing for another strike, a figure emerged from the shadows. Gunwook, still recovering from his previous injuries, lunged at Ghostface with a desperate burst of energy. He tackled the killer, slamming him against the floor with a fierce determination.
“Get away from him!” Gunwook roared, his voice filled with anger and relief. He struggled with Ghostface, the two grappling on the grimy floor.
Yeonjun, catching his breath, looked on in shock. He hesitated, unsure whether to join the fight or tend to his friends. But the sight of Gunwook fighting Ghostface with all his strength gave him a glimmer of hope.
“Gunwook, watch out!” Yeonjun called, seeing the killer’s knife glinting dangerously close to Gunwook’s face.
Gunwook threw a powerful punch, knocking Ghostface off balance. The killer scrambled to get back on his feet, but the distraction was enough for Yeonjun to move in.
“Gunwook, are you okay?” Yeonjun asked as he approached, his voice urgent.
“I’m fine,” Gunwook panted, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Just get to Sunoo and Sunghoon. They need you more than I do.”
Yeonjun nodded, grateful for the moment of reprieve. He sprinted back towards Sunoo and Sunghoon, his mind racing with worry.
Sunoo was still kneeling beside Sunghoon, who was groaning in pain. Sunoo’s face was pale, his eyes filled with tears as he tried to stabilize Sunghoon.
“I need help! I can’t do this alone!” Sunoo cried out as he saw Yeonjun approaching.
“We’re going to get you out of here,” Yeonjun assured him, crouching beside Sunghoon. He glanced around, desperately searching for anything that could help them escape.
“We have to get to the exit,” Yeonjun said, trying to sound as calm as he could manage. “Gunwook is holding him off, but we need to move now.”
With Sunoo helping to support Sunghoon, Yeonjun led the way, their escape fraught with peril. Every noise seemed amplified, every shadow a potential threat. They navigated through the darkened corridors, the urgency of their situation driving them forward.
The group’s movements were desperate but determined. With Gunwook’s help, they managed to evade Ghostface and finally reached the exit, the cold night air a welcome relief after the suffocating darkness inside.
As they emerged into the open, the weight of their ordeal hit them all at once. Sunghoon was in critical condition, and the fear of what might come next hung heavy in the air.
“We need to get him to a hospital,” Yeonjun said firmly, his voice filled with determination. “And we need to make sure this nightmare ends.”
Gunwook, bruised but resolute, nodded in agreement. “We’ll make sure of it.”
======================================================
The flashing lights of the police cars painted the abandoned bowling alley in a chaotic swirl of red and blue. Sirens wailed as officers poured out of their vehicles, their footsteps echoing in the empty building. Detective Yoona led the charge, her expression a mix of determination and frustration.
“We need to find any clues, anything at all,” Yoona instructed her team, her voice sharp and commanding. “The killer could be hiding somewhere in this building.”
Yeonjun, Gunwook, Sunoo, and Sunghoon had been escorted out, the latter being carefully placed into an ambulance. The medics worked quickly, their attention focused on Sunghoon’s injuries.
As the officers split up, searching every nook and cranny, Yoona approached Yeonjun, who was leaning against a squad car, looking exhausted and haunted.
“Yeonjun, can you tell me everything that happened?” Yoona asked, her eyes searching his face for any new information.
“I… I don’t know what else to say,” Yeonjun replied, rubbing his temples. “We were just trying to find Gunwook. The killer—Ghostface—came after us, and we barely escaped.”
Yoona nodded, her eyes narrowing as she glanced back at the building. “We’ve searched the place top to bottom, but there’s no sign of Ghostface. Either he’s a ghost, or he’s someone who was already here.”
Gunwook, standing beside Yeonjun, looked grim. “We saw him up close. He was real. But how did he get away?”
Yoona shook her head. “That’s what we need to figure out. We’ve canvassed the entire area, and there’s no sign of any recent exit or entry points. It’s as if he vanished into thin air.”
Sunoo, still shaken but determined, stepped forward. “We found a note from Ghostface. It said, ‘No cops, Yeonjun.’ Maybe he was warning us for a reason. Maybe he wanted us to be caught in this trap.”
“I believe you’re right,” Yoona said, her expression thoughtful. “The note was a clue. But it seems Ghostface knew exactly how to avoid capture.”
Yeonjun glanced back at the building, his eyes filled with frustration. “He must have had an escape plan. Maybe he was watching us the whole time, knowing exactly where we were.”
Yoona sighed, her gaze drifting to the officers still scouring the area. “We’ll keep searching, but I’m afraid we might not find anything concrete tonight.”
Gunwook, his face bruised but resolute, nodded. “We’ll need to stay vigilant. Ghostface is out there, and we can’t afford to be complacent.”
Yoona placed a reassuring hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder. “We’ll continue to investigate. If there’s anything more you remember, anything at all, let us know.”
As the night wore on, the police continued their search, but the elusive Ghostface remained a shadow in the darkness. The four friends, now dealing with the aftermath of their harrowing ordeal, knew that the nightmare was far from over. The killer’s escape only deepened the mystery, and their fight for survival was far from finished.
The chill of the night air seemed to settle over the abandoned building as the last of the officers packed up, the haunting presence of Ghostface still hanging heavy in the atmosphere. The friends knew they had to stay united, for their ordeal was far from over, and the killer was still lurking somewhere in the shadows.
======================================================
The morning sun cast a muted glow through the curtains of Yeonjun’s bedroom, the aftermath of their harrowing night still palpable in the air. The room was quiet, save for the occasional sound of cars passing by outside. Soobin sat on the edge of the bed, his expression a mix of sadness and resignation as he waited for Yeonjun to arrive.
Yeonjun entered the room, his face a mask of inner turmoil. He paused at the door, taking a deep breath before walking over to where Soobin sat. The weight of what he had to say seemed to hang heavy between them.
“Soobin,” Yeonjun began, his voice steady but laced with regret. “I think we need to talk.”
Soobin looked up, his eyes searching Yeonjun’s face. “I know,” he replied softly. “I’ve been thinking about it too.”
Yeonjun took a seat beside Soobin, feeling the sting of the impending conversation. “I’ve been trying to figure out my feelings, and I realize I’ve been unfair to you. I still have strong feelings for Gunwook. He’s been a big part of my life for so long, and I can’t just turn those feelings off.”
Soobin’s face fell, a mixture of hurt and understanding reflecting in his eyes. “I get it, Yeonjun. I really do. I just wish you had been honest with me from the start.”
“I know,” Yeonjun said, his voice tinged with remorse. “I should have told you where I was going and what was going on. I didn’t want to hurt you, but it was wrong of me to keep things from you.”
Soobin nodded, his expression resigned. “It’s just hard to hear that you’re still caught up with someone else. I thought we were building something real.”
Yeonjun’s heart ached with the weight of the situation. “We were, and I care about you, Soobin. But I need to be honest with myself and with you. I can’t keep pretending that everything’s fine when it’s not.”
There was a long pause, the silence stretching as they both grappled with the reality of their conversation. Soobin finally broke the silence, his voice steady but tinged with sadness. “I appreciate your honesty, Yeonjun. It’s better to know where we stand. I just wish things were different.”
Yeonjun reached out, placing a hand on Soobin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Soobin. You deserve someone who can fully commit to you and be present in the relationship. I didn’t give you that, and I’m truly sorry.”
Soobin gave a small, bittersweet smile. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
With a heavy heart, Yeonjun stood up, his mind still grappling with the weight of his emotions. Soobin watched him go, the finality of their conversation settling in the quiet room.
As Yeonjun walked out, he knew that this was a necessary step, both for himself and for Soobin. The path ahead was uncertain, but at least now, he could start to untangle the complexities of his feelings and figure out where he truly stood in the midst of the chaos.
======================================================
Yeonjun's phone buzzed on his nightstand, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced at the screen and saw Gunwook's name flashing. It was a call he wasn’t expecting but felt a strange pull to answer. He picked up the phone, trying to steady his voice.
“Hey, Gunwook,” Yeonjun said, trying to mask his lingering emotional turbulence.
“Hey, Yeonjun. I was wondering if you’d be up for a movie night tonight. It’s been a while since we’ve had one, and I could really use some company.”
Yeonjun hesitated for a moment, the emotional aftermath of his conversation with Soobin still fresh. Gunwook’s voice was a familiar comfort, and he found himself drawn to the idea of escaping his own chaotic thoughts, even if just for a few hours.
“What movie are we watching?” Yeonjun asked, trying to sound casual.
Gunwook chuckled, the warmth in his voice unmistakable. “I was thinking we could watch that old classic we loved. You know, the one we saw on our second date? You remember?”
Yeonjun's mind flashed back to that evening—dinner followed by a movie in the small, cozy living room. The memory was vivid and comforting amidst the current whirlwind. Gunwook was passing the test, invoking a memory that only they shared.
“I remember,” Yeonjun said softly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I’m in. I’ll come over.”
“Great,” Gunwook replied, relief evident in his tone. “I’ll see you soon.”
After hanging up, Yeonjun took a deep breath. His emotions were on overdrive, but there was a part of him that longed for familiarity and connection. He decided to head over to Gunwook’s place, hoping that some time spent together could help him process the events of the past few days.
Arriving at Gunwook’s apartment later that evening, Yeonjun knocked on the door, feeling a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. Gunwook opened the door, a genuine smile spreading across his face.
“Hey, you made it,” Gunwook greeted, stepping aside to let Yeonjun in.
“Yeah,” Yeonjun said, stepping into the warm, dimly lit space. The smell of popcorn and a hint of lavender greeted him, a reminder of simpler, happier times.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Gunwook said, guiding Yeonjun to the couch where a blanket and snacks were spread out. “I thought we’d go all out with the snacks tonight. Popcorn, candy, and whatever else you like.”
Yeonjun settled onto the couch, feeling a sense of calm wash over him as he glanced at the familiar setup. “Thanks, Gunwook. This is exactly what I needed.”
Gunwook took a seat beside him, the closeness both comforting and stirring up old feelings. “I’m glad you think so. It’s been a rough few days, huh?”
“Yeah,” Yeonjun admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Things have been...complicated.”
Gunwook reached out, gently touching Yeonjun’s arm. “I know. If you want to talk about it, I’m here. But if you just want to watch a movie and relax, that’s fine too.”
Yeonjun looked at Gunwook, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “I appreciate that. Maybe just for tonight, let’s keep things light.”
Gunwook nodded, giving a reassuring smile. “Sounds good. Let’s focus on enjoying the movie and spending some time together.”
As the movie began and the familiar scenes played out, Yeonjun leaned back, allowing himself to be enveloped by the comfort of the moment. With Gunwook by his side and the chaos of the outside world temporarily at bay, he felt a small but significant reprieve from his turbulent emotions.
======================================================
Yeonjun woke up slowly, his body nestled comfortably in Gunwook's bed. The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. As he reached out to touch the empty spot next to him, he realized that Gunwook was gone. A knot of worry tightened in his chest.
His phone buzzed sharply, jolting him from his thoughts. Yeonjun glanced at the screen and saw Ghostface's number flashing. With a mix of dread and resolve, he answered the call.
“Hello?” Yeonjun’s voice was cautious, betraying none of the anxiety he felt.
“Good morning, Yeonjun,” Ghostface’s voice was eerily calm, a sinister edge lacing his words. “I hope you slept well.”
“Where’s Gunwook?” Yeonjun demanded, his heart racing.
“Oh, Gunwook’s just fine—for now,” Ghostface said, a twisted amusem*nt in his tone. “But I need to let you in on something. The game isn’t over. This is the bonus round.”
Yeonjun’s pulse quickened. “What do you want?”
“I want you to have some pride, Yeonjun,” Ghostface replied. “I want you to make the right choice, unlike Daisy did all those years ago. You see, she forgave Brandon, but it didn’t save her.”
“What are you talking about?” Yeonjun asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
“The game,” Ghostface said, his voice dripping with menace. “It’s time for you to show what you’re made of. I want you to do something to Gunwook. If you don’t, I’ll make sure he suffers.”
Yeonjun’s mind raced as the weight of Ghostface’s words sank in. “You’re insane! Why would I do that?”
“Because, Yeonjun, if you don’t, I’ll be the one doing something to him. You get to choose what happens next,” Ghostface said. “So, I suggest you start running. You might just find Gunwook before I do. Or not.”
The line went dead, leaving Yeonjun staring at his phone in shock. Panic surged through him as he leapt out of bed, throwing on his clothes in a frantic hurry. He grabbed his phone and raced out of Gunwook’s apartment, the threat of Ghostface echoing in his mind.
Yeonjun sprinted down the street, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he dialed Gunwook’s number. It rang and rang, but there was no answer. His heart pounded as he skidded to a halt, looking around for any sign of where Gunwook might be.
“Gunwook!” Yeonjun shouted, his voice trembling. “Where are you?”
Desperation clawed at him as he continued searching, his thoughts a chaotic mess. He had to find Gunwook before it was too late, but the weight of Ghostface’s ultimatum loomed large in his mind.
======================================================
Yeonjun gets an idea of going to the farmhouse where Sunoo's father used to have. Yeonjun’s heart pounded in his chest as he arrived at the old farmhouse. The place was eerily quiet, the only sounds being the distant chirping of birds and the rustle of the wind through the tall grass. He sprinted towards the building, hoping against hope that Gunwook was still alive.
As he reached the farmhouse, his eyes darted around, searching for any sign of Gunwook. He noticed a large, rusted tractor in the yard, its blade gleaming ominously in the sunlight. Panic surged through him as he ran closer, his breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps.
“Gunwook!” Yeonjun shouted, his voice echoing through the empty space. He finally spotted Gunwook tied to a chair in front of the tractor. The sight of his friend, bound and helpless, sent a wave of fear crashing over him.
Without thinking, Yeonjun rushed forward, his eyes locked on Gunwook. As he approached, he noticed a thin, almost invisible wire running through the grass. He tried to sidestep it but, in his haste, his foot caught the wire, pulling it taut.
A loud, mechanical whirring filled the air as the blades of the tractor began to lower slowly. Yeonjun’s eyes widened in horror as he realized what was about to happen.
“No, no, no!” Yeonjun screamed, his voice filled with panic. He darted towards Gunwook, desperately trying to free him from the chair, but the machine’s blades continued their inexorable descent.
Gunwook’s eyes flew open, panic and confusion flashing across his face as he saw the approaching blades. He struggled against his restraints, but the chair held him firmly in place.
“Yeonjun, help!” Gunwook’s voice was choked with fear, his eyes pleading for rescue.
“Hold on!” Yeonjun shouted, frantically working on the ropes. He could see the blades getting closer and closer, the sound growing louder and more menacing.
Despite his best efforts, Yeonjun could not free Gunwook in time. The blades were now just inches away, the whirring sound deafening. Gunwook’s screams were swallowed by the noise as the blades made contact.
Yeonjun’s heart sank as he watched in helpless horror. The blades sliced through the chair and Gunwook’s body with a sickening crunch. The horrific scene was too much for Yeonjun to bear, and he stumbled back, overwhelmed by the sheer brutality of it all.
The machine came to a halt, leaving a chilling silence in its wake. Yeonjun’s knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down his face. The reality of what had just happened hit him like a ton of bricks.
Gunwook was gone, and Yeonjun was left alone in the farmhouse, surrounded by the remnants of the nightmare that Ghostface had orchestrated.
Chapter 8: Ghosts
Notes:
"You ran, and I died alone"
Chapter Text
Sunghoon stirred awake in the sterile, whitewashed room, the beeping of machines and the faint smell of antiseptic reminding him of where he was. His body ached, and his side throbbed where the knife had pierced him. He blinked, trying to clear the fog from his mind as he looked around. The curtains were drawn, casting a dim, grayish light across the room.
His eyes landed on a familiar figure slumped in a chair beside his bed. It was Sunoo, his eyes red-rimmed and his face pale with exhaustion. Sunghoon’s heart skipped a beat—he hadn’t seen his friend look so devastated since the night everything began to unravel.
“Sunoo?” Sunghoon croaked, his voice raspy from disuse. Sunoo jerked awake, startled by the sound, and immediately leaned forward, grabbing Sunghoon’s hand.
“Sunghoon,” Sunoo whispered, relief flooding his expression. “You’re awake.”
Sunghoon tried to sit up, wincing at the sharp pain in his side. “What happened? Where’s everyone? Is Gunwook okay?”
At the mention of Gunwook’s name, Sunoo’s face crumpled, and he looked away, unable to meet Sunghoon’s gaze. A heavy silence hung in the air, thick with unspoken words. Sunghoon felt a cold knot form in his stomach.
“Sunoo… what’s going on?” Sunghoon asked, his voice trembling. He squeezed Sunoo’s hand, desperate for answers. “Tell me.”
Sunoo swallowed hard, his eyes glistening with tears. “Sunghoon… Gunwook didn’t make it.”
Sunghoon froze, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The room seemed to spin around him as the reality of what Sunoo had just said began to sink in.
“No… no, that can’t be right,” Sunghoon stammered, shaking his head in disbelief. “Gunwook… he was fine. We were looking for him, and… and…”
“He’s gone, Sunghoon,” Sunoo whispered, his voice cracking. “Yeonjun found him… but it was too late.”
Sunghoon’s chest tightened, and he felt a burning sensation in his throat. Tears welled up in his eyes as the weight of the loss crashed over him. Gunwook, his best friend, the one who had always been there, was gone. The thought was too unbearable to comprehend.
“How?” Sunghoon managed to choke out, his voice breaking. “How did it happen?”
Sunoo hesitated, clearly struggling with how to tell him. “Ghostface… he set a trap at that farmhouse. Yeonjun tried to save him, but… the machine…”
Sunghoon clenched his fists, a surge of anger and grief overwhelming him. He couldn’t believe this was real. Gunwook, the friend who had been like a brother to him, was gone, taken in the most brutal way imaginable.
“I should have been there,” Sunghoon whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I should have done something.”
Sunoo shook his head, tears spilling down his cheeks. “There was nothing anyone could do. It wasn’t your fault, Sunghoon.”
But Sunghoon couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at him. He had survived, but at what cost? The loss of Gunwook felt like a wound that would never heal, a scar that would forever remind him of the nightmare they were all trapped in.
Sunoo leaned closer, squeezing Sunghoon’s hand tightly. “We’ll get through this, Sunghoon. We’ll make sure Gunwook didn’t die in vain. We have to stick together.”
Sunghoon nodded weakly, though the pain in his heart was almost too much to bear. He knew Sunoo was right—they couldn’t give up. But as he lay there, staring at the ceiling, all he could think about was the empty space where Gunwook should have been, and the friendship that had been shattered beyond repair.
======================================================
Hanbin walked into the sheriff's office, his steps measured and deliberate, a determined look etched on his face. The video in his hand felt heavier than it was, the weight of its contents pressing down on him. Sheriff Minho looked up from his desk as Hanbin entered, his sharp eyes narrowing with curiosity.
"Hanbin," Minho greeted, setting aside a stack of papers. "What brings you here today?"
Hanbin swallowed, trying to steady his nerves. "Sheriff, there's something you need to see." He placed the flash drive on the desk, sliding it toward Minho. "It's about the Mayor. And it’s connected to everything that’s been happening."
Minho raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He plugged the flash drive into his computer and opened the video file. As the footage played, showing the Mayor acting suspiciously, his expression darkened.
“What is this?” Minho asked, leaning closer to the screen, his voice low and tense.
“This video… it was in the possession of Sohee and Eunseok before they died,” Hanbin explained. “It’s what they were using to blackmail the Mayor. And now, Gunwook and Sunghoon had it too. They both dealt with Ghostface.”
Minho’s jaw clenched as he watched the Mayor in the video, his behavior clearly indicating he was up to something he wanted to keep hidden. “So, this is what Sohee and Eunseok were killed over?”
“It’s highly likely,” Hanbin replied. “The Mayor is hiding something big, and Sohee had the evidence to expose him. But now… it’s all unraveling. And everyone who gets involved ends up dead or targeted by Ghostface.”
Minho paused the video, his mind working through the implications. “If the Mayor was willing to go this far to protect himself, then we’re dealing with someone who’s not just corrupt but extremely dangerous.”
“Exactly,” Hanbin agreed, his voice tinged with urgency. “Sunghoon barely survived, and Gunwook… he wasn’t as lucky. We need to act fast before someone else gets hurt.”
Minho leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly as he processed the information. “We can’t just go after the Mayor without solid proof, but this video is a start. If we can link him to Ghostface or prove he’s been pulling strings behind the scenes…”
“We could bring him down,” Hanbin finished the thought, his eyes narrowing with determination. “But we have to be careful. The Mayor’s got connections, and he’ll do anything to keep his secrets buried.”
Minho nodded, his gaze hardening. “I’ll start an investigation into the Mayor’s activities. But you need to watch your back, Hanbin. If the Mayor finds out you’ve got this video, you could be next on Ghostface’s list.”
Hanbin met Minho’s gaze, a flicker of fear crossing his face, but he quickly pushed it aside. “I’m willing to take that risk. This has to end.”
Minho reached for his phone, already planning his next moves. “We’ll make sure it does. But we’re going to do this right, with no room for error. The Mayor’s time is running out, and we’ll be ready when it does.”
Hanbin nodded, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. The stakes were higher than ever, but he wasn’t about to back down. Not when so many lives were at risk. As he left the sheriff’s office, he knew they were closer to uncovering the truth—but also closer to danger than ever before.
======================================================
Earlier that evening, Sunoo sat in a dimly lit café, his fingers trembling as he scrolled through the video on his phone one last time. The footage was damning—his father, acting in ways that painted a picture too dark for Sunoo to fully grasp. He had always known his father had secrets, but the reality of what those secrets could mean was more than he had prepared himself for.
The door to the café opened, and Sunoo looked up to see Hanbin entering. Hanbin spotted Sunoo immediately, his expression serious as he made his way to the corner booth. Sunoo quickly turned off his phone and tucked it away, trying to steady his breathing. When Hanbin sat down across from him, there was a moment of silence between them, thick with unspoken tension.
“You have it?” Hanbin asked, his voice low but urgent.
Sunoo nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the USB drive. He hesitated for a moment, the weight of what he was about to do sinking in. “This… this isn’t easy for me,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Hanbin leaned forward, his eyes filled with empathy. “I know, Sunoo. But if your dad is involved in what we think he is… you’re doing the right thing.”
Sunoo looked down at the USB in his hand, his heart heavy. “I just… I never wanted to believe he could be capable of something like this. But after everything that’s happened… Sohee, Gunwook, everyone… I can’t keep turning a blind eye.”
He handed the USB to Hanbin, his hand lingering for a moment before letting go. Hanbin took it carefully, understanding the gravity of what Sunoo had just done.
“You’re brave for doing this,” Hanbin said softly. “You’re choosing to do the right thing, even when it’s the hardest choice to make.”
Sunoo’s eyes welled up with tears, but he quickly blinked them away. “If my dad’s a killer… if he’s involved with Ghostface, then I can’t protect him anymore. People are dying, Hanbin. And I… I can’t live with that on my conscience.”
Hanbin nodded, his expression resolute. “I’ll take this to the sheriff. We’ll make sure justice is served, no matter who’s involved.”
Sunoo looked out the window, his mind swirling with emotions. “I just wish… I wish things were different. That he was different.”
“We all do,” Hanbin replied gently. “But what matters now is stopping this before anyone else gets hurt. You did the right thing, Sunoo. And you’re not alone in this.”
Sunoo managed a small, shaky smile, appreciating the comfort in Hanbin’s words. “Thank you. Just… promise me you’ll be careful. If my dad finds out I’m the one who turned him in…”
Hanbin reached across the table, placing a reassuring hand on Sunoo’s. “I’ll be careful. And we’ll make sure you’re safe too. This is almost over, Sunoo. We’ll see it through to the end.”
With that, Hanbin stood up, tucking the USB into his jacket pocket. Sunoo watched him go, a mix of relief and sadness washing over him. As Hanbin left the café, Sunoo remained in the booth for a while longer, staring out into the night. He knew he had just taken a step that would change everything, but deep down, he knew it was the only way to protect the people he cared about.
And if that meant bringing his own father to justice, then so be it.
======================================================
Mayor Taehyung sat in the dimly lit interrogation room, his face calm and composed despite the chaos that was now closing in around him. The ticking of the wall clock was the only sound as he waited, hands resting on the metal table in front of him. His eyes were focused, not on the two detectives standing by the door, but on something far away—a memory, perhaps, or the thought of what was about to happen.
Detective Yoona, standing closest to him, finally broke the silence. "Mr. Mayor, you know why you’re here. The evidence against you is damning, and it’s only a matter of time before everything comes out. Why not make this easier on yourself and tell us what really happened?"
Taehyung looked up at her, his expression unreadable. “You already have your story, Detective. But I’m not here to confirm or deny anything you’ve gathered so far.”
“Then what are you here for?” the other detective asked, his voice laced with frustration.
Taehyung leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. “I’m here because there’s something I need to say, but not to you. My story isn’t for the police to hear first. It’s for my son.”
Yoona exchanged a glance with her partner, both of them puzzled by his calm demeanor. “Your son? What does he have to do with this?”
“Everything,” Taehyung replied, his voice steady. “If this is all going to come out—and I know it will—I want Sunoo to hear it from me before the rest of the world does. He deserves that much.”
The room fell silent again, the detectives considering his request. Yoona finally spoke, her tone softening just slightly. “You understand that we can’t let you go to him. But if you want to speak to him, we can arrange that here.”
Taehyung nodded, his face still impassive. “That’s all I ask. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, but only after I speak to my son. He needs to know the truth about what’s happened, and why.”
The detectives stepped outside to confer briefly, leaving Taehyung alone with his thoughts. As he waited, his mind wandered to the past—to the decisions that had led him to this moment, and to the family he had always tried to protect, even when his actions had strayed into the shadows.
When the detectives returned, Yoona spoke first. “We’ll arrange for Sunoo to come here. But you need to understand, Mayor Taehyung, that once you’ve spoken to him, we’ll expect you to cooperate fully with our investigation. No more games.”
Taehyung nodded again, his gaze unwavering. “I’ll keep my word. But only after I’ve spoken to him.”
Hours later, Sunoo was brought into the station, escorted by an officer who led him through the cold, sterile hallways. His heart pounded in his chest, the weight of his father’s request pressing down on him like a heavy blanket. He didn’t know what to expect—what could possibly be said that would make any of this make sense?
When he was finally brought into the interrogation room, he saw his father sitting there, still composed, still calm. The sight of him in such a setting sent a chill down Sunoo’s spine.
“Dad…” Sunoo’s voice trembled as he spoke.
“Sunoo,” Taehyung said, his voice gentle. “Come sit down. There’s a lot I need to tell you.”
Sunoo hesitated, then took the seat across from his father, his eyes searching Taehyung’s for answers. “What’s going on, Dad?"
Taehyung looked at his son, and for a moment, the calm mask he had worn all day slipped, revealing a flash of the turmoil beneath. “Sunoo… there are things I’ve kept from you, things I thought I could handle on my own. But I realize now that I was wrong. I never wanted you to be involved in any of this, but it’s too late for that now.”
“What do you mean?” Sunoo asked, fear creeping into his voice. “Is this about the video Hanbin has? Is it true?”
Taehyung sighed, leaning forward slightly. “It’s true that I’ve made mistakes, Sunoo. Serious ones. And the video… it’s a part of that. But it doesn’t tell the whole story. I need you to hear it from me before everyone else does.”
Sunoo’s eyes filled with tears, his mind racing with all the possibilities of what his father could be hiding. “Dad, just tell me… did you hurt anyone?”
Taehyung hesitated, the weight of his answer bearing down on him. “I didn't, Sunoo. But sometimes… sometimes things happen that spiral out of control. I made choices to protect our family, but those choices came at a cost.”
Sunoo’s breath hitched, the reality of the situation crashing down on him. “And Mom… where is she?”
Taehyung closed his eyes for a brief moment, steeling himself. “Your mother… she’s safe. That much I can promise you. But she’s involved too, in ways I never wanted her to be.”
Sunoo’s tears began to fall freely now, his heart breaking at the thought of what his father might have done. “Dad, please… just tell me the truth. I need to know everything.”
Taehyung reached out, placing a hand on his son’s, his expression one of deep sorrow. “I’ll tell you everything, Sunoo. But know this… I did what I did because I thought it was the only way to keep our family together. I was wrong. And now, we all have to face the consequences.”
Sunoo nodded, bracing himself for the confession he knew was coming. And as his father began to speak, the truth of what had happened—the decisions that had led them all to this moment—began to unfold, leaving Sunoo to grapple with the painful reality of who his father truly was.
======================================================
The days after Gunwook's death had been a blur for Yeonjun, a twisted mix of grief, guilt, and overwhelming exhaustion. He hadn't slept properly since that night at the farmhouse, and the few hours of rest he managed were haunted by the image of Gunwook's lifeless body, the horrible sound of the saw blades still echoing in his ears. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw it—Gunwook, cut in half, his face frozen in pain and fear.
But lately, it wasn't just in his sleep. The hallucinations had started to creep into his waking hours, turning his life into a waking nightmare.
It began with fleeting glimpses—just the edge of Gunwook's figure out of the corner of his eye, vanishing when he turned to look. Then the apparitions became more frequent, more vivid. He would catch sight of Gunwook's severed body in the reflections of windows, in the shadows of his room, always there, watching him with hollow, accusing eyes.
Yeonjun sat on his bed, hands trembling as he rubbed his face, trying to shake off the drowsiness that clung to him like a heavy blanket. He hadn’t left his room in days, avoiding everyone and everything. His phone buzzed on the nightstand, but he ignored it, too drained to deal with whatever messages or calls had come through. The darkness outside matched the darkness he felt inside, the suffocating weight of the secret he carried.
"Yeonjun..."
The voice was barely a whisper, but it made Yeonjun's blood run cold. He looked up, heart pounding, and there he was—Gunwook, standing at the foot of the bed, his body a grotesque split from waist down. Blood stained his clothes, dripping onto the floor in a pool of crimson that wasn't really there.
"Gunwook?" Yeonjun's voice cracked as he spoke, his throat dry. He knew it wasn't real—knew that Gunwook was gone—but the sight before him was so vivid, so disturbingly real.
"Why didn't you save me, Yeonjun?" Gunwook's voice was filled with pain, the same pain that had been etched on his face in those final moments.
Yeonjun shook his head, backing away until his back hit the wall. "I tried... I tried to save you. It wasn't supposed to happen like this..."
"You let me die," Gunwook's voice was cold now, empty, devoid of the warmth it once held. "You ran, and I died alone."
Tears welled up in Yeonjun's eyes as he tried to block out the apparition. "I didn't know, Gunwook! I didn't know it would happen! Please, you have to believe me..."
But Gunwook's figure just stood there, unmoving, the accusation clear in his hollow gaze. "You were supposed to protect me. We were supposed to get out of this together."
"I... I’m sorry," Yeonjun whispered, his voice breaking as the tears began to fall. "I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to…"
The hallucination of Gunwook didn’t respond, his ghostly form flickering like a dying flame. Then, without warning, he lunged at Yeonjun, his hands outstretched as if to strangle him.
Yeonjun screamed, throwing his arms up to defend himself, but when he opened his eyes, Gunwook was gone. The room was empty, silent except for his ragged breathing.
Panting, Yeonjun collapsed to the floor, his whole body shaking. He couldn't keep going like this, couldn’t keep facing these nightmares that had now bled into his reality. He had to get help—had to find a way to make it stop, to rid himself of the haunting guilt that had taken on a life of its own.
But deep down, Yeonjun knew that no amount of sleep, no therapy, could ever erase what he had seen, or what he had failed to prevent. Gunwook was gone, and Yeonjun was left alone, trapped in a waking hell that he feared would never let him go.
======================================================
Yeonjun's hands trembled as he stared at the white ceiling of the hospital room, the harsh fluorescent lights burning into his eyes. His chest tightened with each breath, a suffocating anxiety he couldn’t shake off. The doctors had given him something to calm him down, but it felt like it was doing nothing, his mind still racing with visions of Gunwook, the blood, the sound of the saw…
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will away the images, trying to remind himself that none of it was real. But the memories, the hallucinations, clung to him like a second skin, impossible to peel away.
He was alone in the sterile room, the silence only interrupted by the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor beside him. It was the first moment of quiet he’d had in what felt like weeks, but it didn’t bring him any peace. Instead, it only made the emptiness inside him more palpable.
As he lay there, eyes half-closed, the door to his room creaked open. Footsteps, hesitant at first, approached his bed. Yeonjun didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see who or what was coming to haunt him this time. He was too exhausted, too broken to face another ghost.
“Yeonjun…”
The voice was familiar, too familiar. His heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, he didn’t know if he was awake or dreaming. He opened his eyes slowly, afraid of what he might see.
Standing there, at the foot of his bed, was his father.
Yeonjun’s breath caught in his throat. His father looked older, more worn than he remembered, but it was him. He was real—or was he? Yeonjun’s mind swirled with confusion, the drugs in his system making it hard to distinguish between reality and illusion.
“Dad?” His voice was barely a whisper, filled with uncertainty.
His father nodded, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s me, son. I’m here.”
Yeonjun shook his head, refusing to believe it. “No… no, you’re not. You’re just… you’re not real. None of this is real.”
His father’s face fell, and he took a step closer, his hand reaching out to touch Yeonjun’s arm. The warmth of the touch sent a jolt through Yeonjun’s body, grounding him in the present. “I’m real, Yeonjun. I’ve missed you… every day since I’ve been away.”
Yeonjun blinked, tears welling up in his eyes. He wanted to believe it, wanted to reach out and hold on to the man who had once been his anchor. But the pain, the anger, the confusion—it all came rushing back. “Then why did you leave?” His voice cracked, the words filled with years of pent-up hurt. “Why did you leave us? Leave me?”
His father’s expression crumpled with guilt and sorrow. “I never wanted to, Yeonjun. But after what happened… after everything… I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t face you, or your mother. I couldn’t be the man you needed me to be.”
Yeonjun clenched his fists, the anger rising like bile in his throat. “You left me, Dad. You left me alone, and now you think you can just come back and make it better?”
His father’s eyes were filled with tears now, and he dropped to his knees beside the bed, taking Yeonjun’s hand in his. “I know I failed you. I know I can’t make up for the time I lost. But I’m here now, and I want to help. I want to be there for you.”
Yeonjun yanked his hand away, shaking his head violently. “You can’t just come back and fix everything. You can’t be the hero now, Dad. It’s too late for that.”
“Please, Yeonjun,” his father pleaded, his voice breaking. “Come home with me. Let me help you… let me be the father I should have been.”
Yeonjun turned his head away, tears streaming down his face. He couldn’t look at his father, couldn’t bear to see the desperation in his eyes. “I don’t need you to be the hero. I just need you to stay away. You left us once. Don’t make it harder by coming back now.”
The room fell into a heavy silence, the only sound the steady beep of the heart monitor and Yeonjun’s ragged breathing. His father slowly rose to his feet, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’m sorry, Yeonjun,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry.”
With that, he turned and walked out of the room, the door closing softly behind him.
Yeonjun was left alone once more, the darkness closing in around him, heavier than before. His father was gone, but the weight of his words lingered in the air, pressing down on Yeonjun like a suffocating blanket.
He curled up on the bed, pulling the thin hospital blanket over his head as if it could block out the world. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape the ghosts of his past—or the ones still haunting him.
======================================================
Yeonjun stared out the window of his hospital room, watching the clouds drift by in the pale afternoon sky. His mind was a tangled mess, emotions churning inside him like a storm. The conversation with his father replayed in his head over and over, each word cutting deeper than the last. He couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal, the pain of being abandoned when he needed his father most.
A soft knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. He didn’t turn around, his eyes still fixed on the clouds. “Come in,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse from the tears he’d shed earlier.
The door creaked open, and Yeonjun heard the familiar shuffle of footsteps approaching his bed. “Yeonjun?”
Yeonjun finally turned his head, his gaze meeting the concerned eyes of Hanbin. He managed a weak smile. “Hey, Hanbin.”
Hanbin pulled up a chair and sat down beside the bed, his expression filled with sympathy. “How are you holding up?”
Yeonjun shrugged, his shoulders heavy with exhaustion. “I’ve been better.”
Hanbin nodded, understanding in his eyes. “I heard about what happened. I’m really sorry, Yeonjun. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.”
Yeonjun swallowed hard, his throat tight. “It’s… it’s a lot. I feel like everything’s falling apart, and I don’t know how to put it back together.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence in the room was thick, almost oppressive, but Hanbin didn’t push. He just sat there, waiting for Yeonjun to continue.
Finally, Yeonjun took a deep breath and spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “My dad… he came to see me.”
Hanbin raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Your dad? I thought he was… I mean, you haven’t mentioned him in a long time.”
Yeonjun nodded, his gaze dropping to his hands, which were clenched tightly in his lap. “Yeah. He left several years ago… after everything that happened. He just walked out, and I haven’t seen him since. But now… he wants to come back. He wants to be a part of my life again.”
Hanbin leaned forward, his expression serious. “How do you feel about that?”
Yeonjun let out a shaky sigh, his emotions bubbling to the surface. “I don’t know. I’m angry, Hanbin. I’m so angry that he left us, that he left me to deal with everything on my own. And now he thinks he can just come back and make everything better. But it’s not that simple. It’s not that easy.”
Hanbin was silent for a moment, letting Yeonjun’s words hang in the air. When he spoke, his tone was gentle but firm. “I get that, Yeonjun. I really do. But… maybe this is a chance for something new. A chance to start over.”
Yeonjun looked up at Hanbin, his eyes filled with doubt. “How can I just forgive him, Hanbin? How can I let him back into my life after everything he did?”
Hanbin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought carefully about his next words. “It’s not about forgetting what he did or pretending it didn’t hurt. But maybe… maybe it’s about giving him a chance to make things right. People make mistakes, Yeonjun. Sometimes really big ones. But if he’s willing to try, to really try to be there for you now… maybe it’s worth giving him that chance.”
Yeonjun stared at Hanbin, his mind racing. Could he really do that? Could he really open his heart to the man who had caused him so much pain? The idea terrified him, but at the same time, there was a small part of him that wanted to believe it was possible, that wanted to believe his father could change.
“I don’t know if I can do it,” Yeonjun admitted, his voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can trust him again.”
Hanbin reached out and placed a comforting hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder. “It’s okay to be scared, Yeonjun. And it’s okay to take your time. But just think about it. Sometimes, giving someone a second chance can be the hardest thing to do, but it can also be the most rewarding.”
Yeonjun looked down at his hands again, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Hanbin’s words resonated with him, but the fear and pain were still so raw, so overwhelming.
“I’ll think about it,” Yeonjun finally said, his voice quiet but determined.
Hanbin smiled gently. “That’s all you can do. Just take it one step at a time, okay? And remember, you don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here for you, whatever you decide.”
Yeonjun nodded, feeling a small glimmer of hope for the first time in what felt like forever. “Thanks, Hanbin. I really appreciate it.”
Hanbin squeezed Yeonjun’s shoulder before standing up. “You’re stronger than you think, Yeonjun. Don’t forget that.”
As Hanbin left the room, Yeonjun leaned back against his pillow, his thoughts a little less chaotic than before. The road ahead was uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he could find a way through it.
======================================================
Sunoo sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the new phone in his hand. His heart raced as he pressed the call button, the unfamiliar number ringing in his ear. His breath caught when a familiar voice answered.
“Hello?”
“Mom?” Sunoo’s voice trembled with a mix of relief and anxiety.
There was a brief pause on the other end before his mother’s voice softened. “Sunoo? Is that really you?”
Tears welled up in Sunoo’s eyes. “Yeah, it’s me. I… I didn’t know how to reach you. I thought… I thought you were gone.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she replied, her voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean to disappear like that. There’s so much I need to explain.”
Sunoo wiped his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. “Mom, where have you been? Why didn’t you tell me anything?”
“I was trying to protect you,” she said gently. “I didn’t want you to worry, especially with everything that’s been happening. But I’m okay now, Sunoo. I’m in a better place.”
Sunoo closed his eyes, a wave of relief washing over him. “I’m glad you’re okay, Mom. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too,” she whispered. “But there’s something you need to know, Sunoo. Something about your father.”
Sunoo’s heart skipped a beat. “Dad? What about him?”
There was a hesitation before she spoke again. “I think… I think you should talk to him. There are things he needs to tell you, things he’s been hiding.”
Sunoo felt a lump form in his throat. “What kind of things, Mom? What’s going on?”
“I can’t explain it all over the phone,” she said softly. “But please, just talk to him. He’ll tell you everything. And remember, Sunoo, no matter what, I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom,” Sunoo replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll talk to him. I promise.”
After the call ended, Sunoo sat in silence for a moment, the weight of his mother’s words heavy on his shoulders. He needed answers, and there was only one person who could give them to him.
With a determined breath, Sunoo made his way to the sheriff’s station, where his father was still being held in the interrogation room. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as he walked through the corridors, his footsteps echoing off the sterile walls. When he reached the room, he saw his father sitting at the table, looking more tired and worn than Sunoo had ever seen him.
The Mayor looked up as Sunoo entered, his expression a mixture of surprise and guilt. “Sunoo…”
Sunoo didn’t waste any time. He pulled out a chair and sat down across from his father, his eyes searching his father’s face for any sign of the man he once knew. “I talked to Mom,” he said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. “She said you have something to tell me.”
The Mayor’s shoulders sagged, and he let out a long, weary sigh. “Sunoo, there’s a lot you don’t know. A lot I’ve kept from you… to protect you.”
“Protect me from what?” Sunoo asked, his frustration evident. “Why have you been keeping so many secrets, Dad? What’s really going on?”
The Mayor looked down at the table, his hands clasped tightly together. “It all started when your mother began using again. I tried to help her, but… one night, I came home and found one of her friends had overdosed in the guest room.”
Sunoo’s eyes widened, shock washing over him. “What? Why didn’t you call for help?”
“I was scared, Sunoo,” the Mayor admitted, his voice trembling with the weight of his confession. “I knew that if word got out, it would ruin everything—our family’s reputation, your future. I panicked. So, I sent your mother to rehab and kept it all a secret. I couldn’t risk anyone finding out.”
Sunoo stared at his father in disbelief. “You covered it up? All this time, you’ve been hiding this from me?”
The Mayor nodded, shame etched into every line of his face. “I did it to protect you, to protect our family. I never wanted you to know. But now… now I see that keeping it from you was a mistake.”
Sunoo felt a whirlwind of emotions surge through him—anger, betrayal, confusion. “You think hiding the truth is protecting me? All this time, I thought Mom had left because of me… because of something I did. But it was because of you!”
“I know,” the Mayor said quietly, his voice heavy with regret. “And I’m sorry, Sunoo. I’m sorry for everything. I never wanted to hurt you.”
Sunoo shook his head, trying to make sense of it all. “So, all of this—everything you’ve done—it was to protect a lie?”
The Mayor looked at his son, his eyes pleading for understanding. “I didn’t know what else to do. I was trying to hold everything together, trying to keep our family from falling apart.”
Sunoo clenched his fists, his mind racing. “But you didn’t protect us, Dad. You only made things worse. Look at where we are now—Mom’s gone, Gunwook’s dead, and you’re sitting here, accused of who knows what.”
The Mayor closed his eyes, pain flashing across his face. “I know, Sunoo. I know I’ve failed you in so many ways. But I’m telling you the truth now, because you deserve to know. I never murdered anyone. Everything I did, I did to protect you.”
Sunoo’s chest tightened, the anger and hurt swirling inside him. “But at what cost, Dad? What have you done to our family?”
The Mayor opened his eyes, tears brimming at the corners. “I’m sorry, Sunoo. I can’t undo what’s been done. But I want you to know that I love you. I’ve always loved you, and everything I did… I did because I thought it was the only way to keep you safe.”
Sunoo stared at his father, the man who had once been his hero, now reduced to a shadow of his former self. The weight of his father’s confession hung heavy in the air, and for the first time, Sunoo saw the cracks in the foundation of the life he thought he knew.
“I don’t know what to think anymore,” Sunoo said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I need time… to process all of this.”
The Mayor nodded, understanding in his eyes. “Take all the time you need, Sunoo. Just know that I’m here, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.”
Sunoo stood up from the table, his mind reeling from everything he had just learned. As he walked out of the interrogation room, the walls of the station seemed to close in on him, suffocating him with the weight of the secrets that had been buried for so long.
He needed air, space to think. But as he stepped outside, the truth followed him like a shadow, a constant reminder that his life would never be the same again.
======================================================
The pale morning light filtered through the window as Yeonjun lay in his hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling. His mind was a jumble of fragmented memories and half-formed thoughts, the events of the past few days blurring together in a haze of exhaustion and confusion. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to make sense of the chaos in his head.
And then, like a flash of lightning, it hit him—a memory he had buried deep within himself, one that had been locked away for years. He remembered the night his father left, the shouting, the anger, the tension that had filled their home like a storm ready to break.
His heart pounded in his chest as he sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist. The argument, the reason his parents had been fighting… it all came rushing back to him.
Without thinking, Yeonjun swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, his hospital gown rustling as he moved. He had to find his father—he had to tell him what he had remembered. The hallways were quiet, only the faint hum of hospital machinery breaking the silence as Yeonjun hurried through the sterile corridors.
Finally, he spotted his father, San, standing near the entrance to the hospital. Yeonjun called out, his voice thick with urgency. "Dad!"
San turned around, his expression softening as he saw Yeonjun approaching. "Yeonjun, what are you doing out of bed? You should be resting."
Yeonjun shook his head, his breath coming in short gasps. "I remembered, Dad. I remembered why you and Mom were fighting that night. It was because… because you didn’t want her anymore, wasn’t it?"
San’s eyes widened, a flicker of pain crossing his face. "Yeonjun, that’s not true. I loved your mother, and I still do. But there were things going on that you didn’t understand back then."
"But I remember, Dad!" Yeonjun insisted, his voice rising with desperation. "You were angry because you didn’t want to stay with her. You wanted to leave, and that’s why you were fighting!"
San sighed, his gaze turning somber. He stepped closer to Yeonjun, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Yeonjun, you’ve been through a lot, and your mind is trying to make sense of things that don’t add up. But listen to me—what you remember isn’t the whole truth. There’s more to it than that."
Yeonjun frowned, confusion knitting his brow. "Then what was it, Dad? What was really going on?"
San smiled faintly, a knowing look in his eyes. "You already know the answer, Yeonjun. It’s been with you all along. You just need to look around, pay attention to the details. Sometimes the truth is hidden in plain sight."
Yeonjun stared at his father, his mind racing. "What do you mean? What am I supposed to find?"
"Look around, Yeonjun," San repeated, his voice calm and steady. "The answers are there. You just have to see them."
Before Yeonjun could respond, San turned and began walking down the hallway. Yeonjun felt a strange sense of urgency, as if he were running out of time. He followed his father, his footsteps echoing off the tiled floor. But as he rounded a corner, he stopped short, his breath catching in his throat.
San was gone.
Yeonjun blinked, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked around frantically, but there was no sign of his father. The hallway was empty, the only sound the distant beep of a heart monitor somewhere in the hospital.
A wave of disorientation washed over him. Had it all been another hallucination? Was his father ever really there?
His thoughts were interrupted by the soft murmur of voices coming from a nearby room. Yeonjun’s curiosity got the better of him, and he cautiously approached the door. He glanced at the sign on the wall: **Pediatric Ward**.
Something stirred deep within Yeonjun, an instinctual pull that he couldn’t ignore. He pushed open the door and stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room. It was filled with bright colors, toys, and children’s drawings on the walls. The sight was both comforting and unsettling.
As he wandered further into the ward, something caught his eye. A small, worn-out teddy bear sitting on a chair near the window. It looked strangely familiar, like something from his childhood.
Yeonjun’s heart skipped a beat as he walked over to the chair and picked up the bear. His fingers brushed against the soft fabric, and suddenly, a flood of memories surged through him—memories of his mother, of the nights spent in this very ward when he was just a child.
His mother had brought him here often, telling him that his father was working late, that everything was fine. But Yeonjun could see it now, clear as day—the worry in her eyes, the way she clutched his hand just a little too tightly. The truth was, his mother had been hiding something from him, something she couldn’t bear to tell her young son.
The truth was that his father had been dealing with something far more difficult than Yeonjun had ever realized. The nights away, the tension between his parents—it wasn’t about not wanting his wife. It was about something darker, something that had been kept hidden for years.
As Yeonjun stood there, clutching the teddy bear, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. His father hadn’t left because he didn’t love his mother. He had left to protect his family from a truth that was too painful to face.
A truth that was now staring Yeonjun in the face.
He sank down into the chair, the weight of the revelation settling over him like a heavy blanket. His father’s words echoed in his mind: *Look around for clues… the answers are there.*
Yeonjun closed his eyes, letting the memories wash over him. His father wasn’t really there, but he had led Yeonjun to the place where the truth had been hidden all along. The pediatric ward, the memories of his mother, the bear—it was all connected.
And now, Yeonjun knew what he had to do.
He had to find the truth, the real reason behind everything that had happened. The truth that had been buried for far too long.
======================================================
Beomgyu and Jaehyun stood outside Jay's classroom, their faces set with determination. The hospital visits, the investigation, and the mounting pressure had taken their toll, but they were driven by a need for answers. The flickering fluorescent lights in the hallway cast an eerie glow as they exchanged glances, their resolve unshaken.
"Okay, let’s do this," Beomgyu said, his voice low but steady. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching. "We need to find out what Jay’s hiding."
Jaehyun nodded, holding up a set of lockpicking tools. "I’ll get us inside. Keep an eye out for anyone who might come by."
With deft movements, Jaehyun worked on the lock. It clicked open with a satisfying sound, and they slipped inside the classroom. The room was as it always was: desks neatly arranged, posters on the walls, and the large speaker in the corner. But Beomgyu and Jaehyun knew better than to take everything at face value.
“Start looking through the desk drawers,” Jaehyun suggested, already making his way toward the large, wooden desk at the front of the room.
Beomgyu began to sift through the papers and textbooks on the desk, his mind racing with thoughts of what they might find. He pulled open a drawer and froze when he saw a collection of strange items—a few knives, a blood-stained cloth, and a set of black gloves.
“Jaehyun, you need to see this,” Beomgyu called out, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jaehyun hurried over, his eyes widening as he took in the sight. “These match the descriptions of the weapons used in the murders. This is bad, Beomgyu. This is really bad.”
Beomgyu nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he carefully set the items aside. “We need to find out who Jay really is. I have a feeling there’s more to this.”
Jaehyun’s gaze turned to the large speaker in the corner of the room. “What about that? It looks out of place. Maybe there’s something hidden inside.”
With a nod, Beomgyu and Jaehyun moved toward the speaker. They examined it closely, noting its peculiar placement. Beomgyu pried open the speaker grill, and Jaehyun started examining the interior.
“It’s definitely not a standard speaker,” Jaehyun said, his voice tinged with excitement. “There’s something behind this.”
After a few moments of careful searching, they discovered a hidden compartment within the speaker. Jaehyun carefully pulled out a small folder, marked with the name “Jay Palmer” in bold letters.
Beomgyu’s eyes widened. “So Jay’s real name is Jay Palmer. This could be a huge lead.”
Jaehyun flipped through the folder, revealing a series of documents—some related to teaching credentials, others to criminal records. “This confirms it. Jay Palmer has a criminal background, and it looks like he’s been using multiple identities.”
As they absorbed the new information, a knock on the door jolted them both. Beomgyu and Jaehyun exchanged worried glances.
“Looks like we’re not alone,” Beomgyu said, his voice tense.
Jaehyun quickly stuffed the folder back into the compartment and closed the speaker, trying to look casual. “We need to get out of here, fast.”
The door creaked open, and in walked a janitor, pushing a cart with cleaning supplies. He glanced at Beomgyu and Jaehyun, raising an eyebrow. “What are you two doing in here?”
Jaehyun forced a smile. “Just looking for some old papers. We’ll be out of your way in a moment.”
The janitor nodded, giving them a skeptical look before moving to the next classroom. Beomgyu and Jaehyun exchanged relieved glances and slipped out of the room, careful to keep their movements discreet.
As they exited the building, Beomgyu turned to Jaehyun, a look of determination on his face. “We need to confront Jay Palmer. If he’s involved in all this, we have to find out why.”
Jaehyun nodded in agreement. “Let’s gather everything we have and plan our next move. We’re closer to the truth than ever.”
They left the school, their minds buzzing with the new revelations. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, and they knew that Jay Palmer—now exposed as more than just a teacher—held the key to unraveling the mystery that had haunted them all.
======================================================
Beomgyu and Jaehyun approached the sheriff’s office, their faces set with determination. They’d just finished piecing together the latest pieces of their investigation and were ready to lay everything on the line.
Sheriff Minho was seated behind his desk, a stack of papers before him. He looked up as the two entered, his expression a mix of curiosity and skepticism. “Beomgyu, Jaehyun. What have you got for me this time?”
Jaehyun stepped forward, holding a folder tightly. “Sheriff, we’ve uncovered some significant information about Jay that you need to see. It could be crucial in connecting him to the recent murders.”
Sheriff Minho nodded, motioning for them to continue. “Go ahead.”
Jaehyun opened the folder and began laying out the documents. “Jay Palmer wasn’t always known by that name. Back in 2013, he was teaching at a small college in New Hampshire under the last name Palmer. During that time, he had an affair with an 18-year-old student.”
Sheriff Minho raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “And what happened with this affair?”
“The student ended up dead,” Jaehyun continued, his tone steady but urgent. “Jay was the main suspect in the case, but he disappeared before any charges could be filed. We’ve traced him to this area where he’s been working as a teacher. The pattern matches what we’re seeing now.”
Beomgyu chimed in, his voice firm. “Jay’s been using different identities to evade the law, but we’ve got evidence linking him to the murders here. The weapons we found in his classroom match the ones used by the killer, and his previous history aligns with his current behavior.”
Sheriff Minho leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “So, you’re suggesting that Jay Palmer is not only a suspect in the current case but has a history of similar behavior?”
“Exactly,” Jaehyun said, nodding. “His past actions show a disturbing pattern. If he’s been using a new identity here, it’s likely he’s continuing the same behavior.”
Sheriff Minho looked through the documents Jaehyun had presented, his brow furrowing as he processed the information. “This is serious. We need to track down Jay Palmer and bring him in for questioning. If what you’re saying is true, we could be dealing with a dangerous individual who’s managed to slip through the cracks.”
Beomgyu added, “We’ve already found hidden compartments and suspicious items in his classroom. He’s been covering his tracks well, but with this new information, we might be able to catch him before he can do more damage.”
Sheriff Minho nodded, standing up decisively. “I’ll coordinate with the other officers and get a search warrant for Jay’s residence and any other places he might be hiding. You two stay on standby. If you have any more information or come across anything else, let us know immediately.”
Jaehyun and Beomgyu exchanged a relieved glance. “We will,” Jaehyun said. “Thank you for taking this seriously.”
As they left the sheriff’s office, the weight of their discovery felt both heavy and freeing. They had finally connected the dots and were on the verge of uncovering the full truth behind Jay Palmer’s twisted actions.
Beomgyu sighed, glancing at Jaehyun. “I hope this brings some justice. It’s been a long, tough road, but we’re getting closer.”
Jaehyun nodded in agreement. “We’ve come this far. Let’s make sure we see this through to the end.”
With renewed determination, they prepared to assist the authorities in capturing Jay Palmer and bringing him to justice, hoping to finally end the cycle of fear and deception that had plagued their lives.
======================================================
Yeonjun paced nervously in his hospital room, his mind racing with the connections he’d just made. The ultrasound photos, the hints from his father and Gunwook, and the old hospital—everything was falling into place. He picked up his phone and dialed his mother’s number, his hands trembling slightly.
“Mom,” he said when she answered, “I need you to come to the hospital. There’s something important we need to discuss.
Later that day, Tiffany arrived at the hospital, her face lined with concern as she walked into Yeonjun’s room. “What’s going on? You said it was urgent.”
Yeonjun gestured for her to sit down, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’ve been putting together some pieces from the abandoned hospital and from the things you and Dad told me. I saw ultrasound photos there, and I think they might be connected to you. Can you tell me more about them?”
Tiffany looked puzzled but nodded. “Those photos… they’re from when I was pregnant. I was just sixteen, and my parents made me give the baby up for adoption. I didn’t leave town right after the Brandon James incident because I was trying to escape the press. I didn’t want anyone to know I was pregnant by someone who wasn’t my fiancé.”
Yeonjun’s eyes widened as he absorbed the information. “So, the baby’s father was Brandon James. I remember you mentioned that you found comfort in him after discovering Dad’s infidelity.”
Tiffany nodded, her gaze distant. “Yes, Brandon was there for me when I needed someone. But I had to give up the baby because of the circ*mstances. I thought I was doing the right thing for the child.”
Yeonjun’s mind raced with the implications of what he was hearing. “What if… what if the child you gave up for adoption is somehow involved in this? What if they’ve come back looking for revenge?”
Tiffany’s face went pale. “You think…?”
Yeonjun nodded, his eyes intense. “It makes sense. The killer has been targeting people connected to Brandon and you. If the child grew up knowing about the abandonment or feeling betrayed, it could explain their motive. They might be seeking revenge for the life they were forced to live because of the choices made back then.”
Tiffany’s breath hitched. “I never thought about it that way. But it’s possible. I’ve always felt guilty about giving up the baby, but I never imagined it could lead to something like this.”
Yeonjun took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “We need to find out who was adopted and see if they have any connection to these events. It might be our best chance to stop the killer and understand why all of this is happening.”
Tiffany nodded, determination setting in. “I’ll help you. I want to make things right, whatever it takes.”
Yeonjun nodded in agreement. “Thank you. Let’s work together to figure this out. It’s our only chance to put an end to this nightmare.”
As they began to piece together the details, the urgency of their situation became even more apparent. With a clearer understanding of the connections and motives, they set out to uncover the truth behind the ultrasound photos and stop the killer before more lives were lost.
======================================================
The theater was dimly lit, casting long shadows across the stage. Sunoo and Jay had arranged to meet there under the cover of darkness, far from prying eyes. The ambiance of the theater, with its old velvet seats and dusty curtains, set an almost eerie backdrop for their conversation.
Jay leaned against the stage, looking down at Sunoo with an intense expression. “So, you wanted to talk about what’s been going on? I have to say, I’m a bit surprised to see you here.”
Sunoo shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding eye contact. “Actually, I’m not here to talk about that. I’m done with all the drama and the mess. I just wanted to—” He hesitated, his words trailing off as he tried to find the right way to say what he needed.
Jay, sensing Sunoo’s discomfort, smirked. “What is it, Sunoo? If you’re not here to discuss the current chaos, then what’s on your mind?”
Before Sunoo could answer, Jay’s gaze snapped toward the entrance of the theater. A faint, unsettling noise echoed from the hallway beyond. Jay straightened, a look of concern crossing his face. “Hold on a second,” he said, his voice low and cautious. “I think I heard something.”
Sunoo watched as Jay moved towards the entrance, his footsteps barely making a sound on the worn carpet. “Jay, wait—”
Jay turned back momentarily, his eyes narrowing. “Stay here. I’ll be right back. Just… don’t go anywhere.”
Sunoo nodded, feeling a mix of anxiety and relief as Jay disappeared into the darkness. He was left alone, the oppressive silence of the theater settling around him. As he sat there, his thoughts raced. The tension between them had been growing, and this secret meeting was just one more complication in the already tangled web of their lives.
Minutes ticked by, the quiet broken only by the distant sounds of the building settling and the occasional creak of the old wooden seats. Sunoo fidgeted, glancing toward the entrance where Jay had gone.
The theater’s grand stage was shrouded in darkness, the atmosphere thick with tension. Sunoo stood alone under the spotlight, his heart pounding in his chest. He had expected Jay to return by now, but the sudden illumination of the stage left him feeling exposed and vulnerable.
As Sunoo scanned the dimly lit theater, he heard the soft, unsettling sound of footsteps behind him. He turned around, only to see Ghostface emerging from the shadows. The masked figure’s knife glinted ominously in the spotlight.
Before Sunoo could react, Ghostface lunged forward, slashing at Sunoo’s arm. Pain erupted through him, and Sunoo let out a gasp as he stumbled backward, his arm throbbing with agony. Desperately, he bolted for the side of the stage, trying to escape the killer’s relentless pursuit.
He darted down the narrow hallway, his breathing ragged. Just as he was about to reach the exit, he collided with someone coming around the corner. Sunoo looked up, hoping for a moment of relief, but instead found himself face-to-face with Jay.
“Jay!” Sunoo exclaimed, his voice strained. “Ghostface is—”
Before Sunoo could finish, Jay’s eyes widened in shock and concern. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Sunoo glanced back into the darkness, but Ghostface had vanished. The theater was eerily silent, save for the distant sirens approaching. Sunoo’s mind raced as he tried to piece together what had just happened. Could Jay have been involved in this somehow?
“Jay, are you sure you’re not...?” Sunoo began, his suspicion creeping into his voice.
Jay’s expression hardened. “Sunoo, I’m not Ghostface. I was just coming back to check on you. I heard the commotion and saw you running. We need to get out of here, now!”
Just as Jay finished speaking, the police burst into the theater, their flashlights sweeping across the stage. They quickly assessed the situation, and one of the officers called out, “We’ve got a report of a possible suspect here. Jay Palmer, step forward!”
Jay’s eyes met Sunoo’s with a mixture of fear and confusion. “Sunoo, you have to believe me. I’m not—”
The officers moved swiftly, handcuffing Jay and leading him away from the scene. Sunoo watched in a daze as Jay was escorted out of the theater, his mind racing with doubt and confusion.
“Sunoo, are you alright?” one of the officers asked, approaching him.
Sunoo nodded, though his arm throbbed and his thoughts were a whirlwind. “I’m okay. Just... just a scratch. But I think Jay might be involved in this somehow.”
The officer’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll need to take a statement from you and get you checked out by a medical professional. But for now, let’s focus on getting you to safety.”
As the police tended to Sunoo’s injury and began their investigation, he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. The sight of Jay being taken away, combined with the appearance of Ghostface, left him questioning everything he thought he knew. Was Jay truly innocent, or was there something more sinister lurking beneath the surface?
With the theater now bustling with activity, Sunoo was left to grapple with his own fears and doubts. The night’s events had only deepened the mystery, leaving him to wonder if the truth would ever come to light.
Chapter 9: The Dance
Notes:
“Everyone saw him as a monster. But he wasn’t. He was my boy… my sweet boy…”
Chapter Text
[A year ago]
The late-night shift at the Lakewood police station was as quiet as ever. The dimly lit corridors were deserted, save for the lazy hum of fluorescent lights. At the front desk, the station’s lone security guard, Frank, was slouched back in his chair, feet propped up on the desk. A steaming cup of coffee sat within arm's reach, but his attention was entirely consumed by the pages of a magazine he held—a cheap, p*rnographic rag that he’d picked up earlier that evening.
Frank took a lazy sip of his coffee, barely tasting the bitter brew as his eyes scanned the magazine with half-hearted interest. The station’s monitors displayed feeds from various security cameras around the building, but none of them held Frank’s attention. He was too preoccupied, too confident that nothing ever happened during these late hours.
Unbeknownst to Frank, a shadow moved through the station. A hooded figure, dressed in black from head to toe, slipped through the halls with eerie silence. The figure moved with purpose, their footfalls light as air, barely disturbing the stillness of the night.
As the hooded intruder approached the security room, they paused just outside the door, listening to the faint rustling of pages and the occasional slurp of coffee. Frank was oblivious, his back to the door as he continued to indulge in his magazine. The figure’s gloved hand reached out, gently pushing open the door. It creaked ever so slightly, but Frank didn’t even flinch. He was too engrossed to notice.
With calculated precision, the intruder slipped inside, their presence masked by the glow of the monitors and the dull light of Frank’s desk lamp. Moving quickly and silently, the figure darted past the security guard, who remained blissfully unaware of the breach in his domain.
The intruder made their way deeper into the station, navigating the hallways with a familiarity that suggested they had been here before. The destination was clear: the evidence room. The door was locked, but the hooded figure was prepared. With a small, precise tool, the lock was picked in seconds, and the heavy door swung open with a quiet groan.
Inside the evidence room, rows of shelves lined the walls, each one filled with boxes, bags, and tagged items from countless cases. The figure moved with purpose, heading straight for a specific section—the Brandon James files. After a quick search, they found what they were looking for: a worn, weathered box marked with the name "Brandon James."
Carefully, the intruder opened the box, sifting through old case files, photographs, and evidence bags. But it wasn’t the paperwork they were after. At the bottom of the box, nestled beneath a pile of documents, lay the object of their desire—the Brandon James mask. It was as unsettling as the legends described, a grotesque representation of a face frozen in a twisted, eerie expression.
The figure held the mask up, examining it in the dim light of the evidence room. It was still intact, the material worn but resilient. Satisfied, the intruder carefully folded the mask and slipped it into a bag, securing it tightly.
With the mask in their possession, the figure left the evidence room, closing the door behind them as if they had never been there. The journey back to the front of the station was just as smooth and undetected. The intruder paused only once, just outside the security room, where Frank was now dozing off, his magazine draped over his chest and his coffee cup long forgotten.
The hooded figure allowed themselves a brief, satisfied smile before slipping out of the station entirely. Frank stirred slightly in his chair, mumbling something in his sleep, but he remained oblivious to the fact that the station had been breached and one of the most notorious pieces of evidence had just been stolen from under his nose.
As the intruder disappeared into the night, the station returned to its usual silence, but the theft would soon set off a chain of events that would bring terror back to Lakewood once more.
======================================================
[Present]
In the cold, sterile confines of the Lakewood police station, Sheriff Minho sat across from Jay Palmer in the interrogation room. The harsh fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting sharp shadows across the room. Jay sat calmly, his hands folded on the table, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his lips. The Sheriff watched him with narrowed eyes, frustration simmering beneath his stoic exterior.
"You know, Jay," Sheriff Minho began, his voice low and controlled, "you've got a lot of people out there pointing fingers at you. It might be in your best interest to start talking."
Jay leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not saying a word until my lawyer gets here," he replied coolly. His gaze was unwavering, almost challenging the Sheriff to try something else.
Minho clenched his jaw, the weight of the investigation bearing down on him. They were so close to uncovering the truth, but Jay was a slippery one, skilled at evading questions and dodging accusations. The silence between them grew thick, the tension palpable.
"Suit yourself," Minho finally said, leaning back in his chair. "But the longer you wait, the harder it's going to be for you."
Jay didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on a spot just beyond the Sheriff’s shoulder, as if the entire situation bored him.
Meanwhile, in another part of the station, Yeonjun was pacing back and forth in the waiting area, his anxiety growing with every passing second. He had too many questions and not enough answers. The only person who might be able to give him those answers was Jay, and he wasn’t going to wait around for the cops to get them.
"I need to see him," Yeonjun muttered, more to himself than anyone else. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, each one leading back to the same troubling conclusion: what if Jay was his half-brother? What if the killer was someone tied to his own bloodline?
His mother, Tiffany, sat nearby, watching her son with concern etched across her face. She had been quiet ever since Yeonjun had shared his theory with her, a theory that had shaken her to her core. The possibility that the child she had given up all those years ago might have returned with vengeance in mind was almost too much to bear.
But Tiffany was no stranger to difficult situations. She had survived the aftermath of the Brandon James incident, and she would survive this. What mattered now was finding out the truth, for Yeonjun’s sake and for her own peace of mind.
"Yeonjun," Tiffany called softly, standing up and crossing the room to her son. "If we're going to get the answers we need, we have to be smart about this. We can’t just barge in there demanding the truth."
Yeonjun stopped pacing, turning to face his mother. "I know, but... I can't just sit here and do nothing. What if he knows something? What if he really is...?"
Tiffany placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "That’s why I’ve already ordered a paternity test. We need to know if Jay could be your half-brother. If he is, then we’ll have more to go on. But we have to be patient."
"Patient?" Yeonjun echoed, frustration bubbling up. "Gunwook is dead, Sunghoon is in the hospital, and this killer is still out there. How am I supposed to be patient when all of this is happening?"
"I know it’s hard," Tiffany said gently, "but rushing in without a plan won’t help anyone. We’ll get the results from the test soon. In the meantime, I’ll talk to the Sheriff and see if he can arrange a visit for us with Jay. Maybe he’ll talk to us if he knows we’re family."
Yeonjun nodded, though the tension in his shoulders remained. He knew his mother was right, but the urge to act, to do something, was almost overwhelming. He needed to confront Jay, to look him in the eye and see if there was any truth to the theory that haunted him.
As Tiffany turned to speak with the Sheriff, Yeonjun let out a shaky breath. The truth was within reach, but it felt like every answer only led to more questions. And the biggest question of all—the one that gnawed at him relentlessly—was whether the killer was someone tied to his own past, his own blood. He couldn’t rest until he knew, and even then, he wasn’t sure if the truth would bring him any peace.
In the interrogation room, Jay remained calm, his eyes glinting with a hint of something unreadable as he waited for his lawyer to arrive. But beneath that calm exterior, there was a storm brewing, one that threatened to engulf everyone around him. And as the minutes ticked by, it became increasingly clear that the game was far from over.
======================================================
The dim light of the setting sun filtered through the curtains of Sunoo’s room, casting a warm, golden glow over the space. The room was filled with personal touches—posters of Sunoo's favorite bands, a collection of books on a shelf, and a few scattered plushies on the bed. It was a place that felt safe, a haven from the chaos outside. But today, it didn’t feel as comforting as it usually did.
Sunghoon stood near the doorway, his arms crossed, watching Sunoo with an unreadable expression. There was a tension between them, a heaviness in the air that neither had addressed yet. Sunoo sat on the edge of his bed, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, avoiding Sunghoon’s gaze.
"Why did you go back to him?" Sunghoon asked quietly, breaking the silence that had settled between them. His voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge to it, one that Sunoo couldn’t ignore.
Sunoo’s shoulders slumped as he let out a soft sigh. He finally looked up at Sunghoon, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and sadness. "I felt like I had no one, Sunghoon," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Everything was falling apart. Gunwook was gone, you were hurt, and I was so scared. Jay was...he was the only one who made me feel like I wasn’t alone."
Sunghoon’s expression softened slightly, but the concern in his eyes remained. He took a step closer, his voice gentler this time. "You know that’s not true, right? You have me, Sunoo. You’ve always had me."
Sunoo blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in Sunghoon’s words. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat. For a moment, he just stared at Sunghoon, trying to process what he was hearing.
Sunghoon sighed and shook his head, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I get that things have been really messed up lately. But going back to Jay? Sunoo, he’s dangerous. If I thought for a second that he was hurting you..." His voice trailed off, and for a brief moment, something dark flickered in his eyes. "I’d kill him myself."
The intensity of Sunghoon’s words sent a shiver down Sunoo’s spine. He knew Sunghoon was serious—there was no mistaking the fierce protectiveness in his tone. Sunoo felt a lump form in his throat as he realized just how much Sunghoon cared about him, how much he had been blind to in his own desperation.
"I’m sorry, Sunghoon," Sunoo said, his voice trembling slightly. "I didn’t mean to... I just didn’t know what else to do."
Sunghoon walked over to the bed and sat down next to Sunoo, close enough that their shoulders brushed. He reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Sunoo’s knee. "It’s okay, Sunoo. I just want you to be safe. I don’t want you to get hurt because of him."
Sunoo nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. For the first time in a while, he felt like he wasn’t alone. Sunghoon was here, and he was offering Sunoo the support he had been craving.
"Thank you," Sunoo whispered, his voice barely audible.
Sunghoon squeezed his knee gently before standing up, his expression softening as he looked down at Sunoo. "Just promise me something, okay?" he said. "If you ever feel like you’re in danger or if Jay tries to mess with you again, tell me. I’ll handle it. You don’t have to face this alone."
Sunoo looked up at him, his eyes shining with gratitude. "I promise," he said, his voice stronger now.
Sunghoon gave him a small, reassuring smile. "Good. Now, get some rest, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow."
As Sunghoon turned to leave, Sunoo felt a warmth in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He watched Sunghoon go, the door closing softly behind him. For the first time in what felt like forever, Sunoo allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could get better.
But as he lay down on his bed, pulling the covers up to his chin, a lingering unease settled over him. He knew that the danger wasn’t over yet. Jay was still out there, and so was the killer. And no matter how much he wanted to believe that everything would be okay, there was a part of him that couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the calm before the storm.
======================================================
Halloween week had always been a big deal in Lakewood. The town transformed into a haven for ghouls, goblins, and all things spooky. Houses were adorned with cobwebs and skeletons, pumpkins lined the sidewalks, and the smell of apple cider and caramel filled the air. But this year, the festive spirit was dampened by the recent tragedies that had shaken the community to its core. The deaths, the fear, the uncertainty—it was all still fresh, lingering like a dark cloud over everyone’s heads.
Despite the tension, the annual Halloween dance was still scheduled to take place. It had been a much-debated topic among the town's officials. Many argued that it was inappropriate to hold a celebration after everything that had happened. Others felt it was exactly what the town needed—a chance to come together, to remember the victims, and to show that they wouldn’t be cowed by fear.
Sheriff Minho stood on the steps of the town hall, looking out at the small crowd that had gathered to hear his announcement. The autumn air was crisp, and the orange and yellow leaves crunched underfoot as people shifted uneasily, waiting for him to speak.
Clearing his throat, the Sheriff adjusted the microphone. His face was lined with exhaustion, the stress of the past few weeks clearly weighing on him, but his voice was steady as he addressed the crowd. "I know these have been difficult times for all of us," he began, his tone somber. "The loss we've experienced is unimaginable, and my heart goes out to the families who have suffered. But I’ve also seen the strength of this community, the way we’ve come together in the face of adversity. That’s why, after much consideration, we’ve decided to go ahead with the Halloween dance."
A murmur ran through the crowd, a mix of surprise, relief, and a touch of unease. The Sheriff held up his hand for silence, continuing, "This isn’t about ignoring what’s happened or pretending everything is fine. Far from it. We’re going to use this event to honor those we’ve lost. All the proceeds from the dance will go towards supporting the victims' families and funding community safety initiatives. It’s our way of showing that we won’t let fear control us."
A woman in the front row raised her hand, concern etched on her face. "Sheriff, with the killer still out there, is it safe to have this event? What if something happens?"
Sheriff Minho nodded, acknowledging her fear. "I understand your concerns, and believe me, we’re taking every precaution. There will be increased security, both at the dance and around town. My deputies will be on high alert, and we’re coordinating with neighboring jurisdictions to ensure that everyone attending will be as safe as possible."
From the back of the crowd, Jaehyun exchanged a glance with Beomgyu, who had shown up to hear the announcement. They knew the Sheriff was trying to put on a brave face, but the reality was far more complicated. With the killer still out there, no one could guarantee safety.
Yeonjun, standing a little way off with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, listened in silence. The Sheriff’s words felt hollow to him. He couldn’t shake the image of Gunwook’s face, the look of terror frozen in his eyes. The idea of celebrating anything, even for a good cause, felt wrong. But he also understood the need to keep going, to not let the darkness win.
After the Sheriff finished his announcement, the crowd began to disperse, people talking in hushed tones as they walked away. Beomgyu and Jaehyun approached Yeonjun, who hadn’t moved from his spot.
"You think this is a good idea?" Beomgyu asked, his voice low.
Yeonjun shrugged, staring at the ground. "I don’t know. It feels like a bad one, but what else are we supposed to do? Sit around and wait for the next attack?"
Jaehyun looked between them, his expression serious. "It could be a chance to draw the killer out. If they show up, we might finally get some answers."
Yeonjun sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Or it could just be another bloodbath. Either way, I guess we’ll be there."
Beomgyu nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess we will."
As the three of them stood there, the weight of the decision hanging over them, Sunoo and Sunghoon joined them. Sunoo, his face pale but determined, looked at Yeonjun. "We’re going to that dance, right?"
Yeonjun looked up, meeting Sunoo’s gaze. "Yeah. We’ll be there."
Sunghoon placed a hand on Sunoo’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "Whatever happens, we stick together. No one’s going through this alone."
Sunoo gave a small, grateful smile, though the fear was still evident in his eyes. "Agreed."
The group fell into a tense silence, the unspoken understanding between them clear. Halloween was coming, and with it, the dance that could either be their chance to end this nightmare or the scene of the next tragedy. As the evening settled in, they each silently prepared for whatever might come next, knowing that the night of the dance would be one they would never forget.
======================================================
The sterile, fluorescent-lit walls of the police station seemed to close in on Yeonjun as he walked through the corridor. His footsteps echoed in the empty hall, each step bringing him closer to the truth—or at least the answers he was desperately seeking. The visit with Jay weighed heavily on his mind, and the uncertainty of what he might uncover gnawed at him. Was this man the key to ending the nightmare, or was he just another piece of the puzzle?
A guard led Yeonjun to the interrogation room where Jay was being held. The room was stark, with nothing but a metal table and two chairs. Jay was already seated, his hands cuffed to the table, his expression unreadable as he looked up at Yeonjun. The dim light cast shadows across Jay's face, making his eyes appear darker, almost hollow.
“Yeonjun,” Jay greeted, his voice calm, almost too calm. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
Yeonjun took a seat across from him, trying to keep his composure. His heart was racing, but he couldn’t afford to show any weakness. Not now. “I need answers, Jay. You’ve been in this town for a while now, but no one really knows you. Or what you’ve done.”
Jay leaned back slightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What exactly are you accusing me of?”
Yeonjun stared at him, searching for any sign of deception. “You tell me. The knife found in your belongings—the same type used in the killings. The weapons we found in your classroom. You think it’s a coincidence?”
Jay didn’t flinch, his gaze steady. “I don’t know how that knife got there. But I didn’t kill Gunwook, Yeonjun. I’m being set up.”
Yeonjun felt a flash of anger, but he kept his voice steady. “Set up? By who? You expect me to believe that?”
Jay shrugged, his expression indifferent. “Believe what you want. But I’ve been teaching, living my life. I haven’t killed anyone.”
Yeonjun leaned in, his eyes narrowing. “Then why did you come back to Lakewood? What were you looking for? Did you find out who you really are? Did you come back here to cause chaos?”
For the first time, a flicker of confusion crossed Jay’s face. “What are you talking about? I’m just a teacher. I came to Lakewood for a fresh start. Whatever you’re insinuating, it’s not true.”
Yeonjun studied him closely. He had expected Jay to react differently, to maybe reveal something that would confirm his suspicions. But Jay seemed genuinely perplexed by his line of questioning. “You really don’t know, do you?” Yeonjun asked, his voice tinged with disappointment. “You don’t know my mother. You don’t know why these killings are happening.”
Jay shook his head, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know your mother, and I’m not the killer. But if you think locking me up ends this, you’re wrong.”
Yeonjun’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”
Jay’s eyes darkened, a sinister smile curling on his lips. “The killings… you think they’re over because I’m in here? You think it all ends with me? You’ll soon find out if that’s true.”
A cold shiver ran down Yeonjun’s spine. He wanted to press further, to demand more answers, but he could see that Jay wasn’t going to give him anything else. The eerie calmness in Jay’s voice, the cryptic nature of his words—it all felt like a twisted game, one where Yeonjun wasn’t sure of the rules.
Yeonjun stood up, the chair scraping against the floor as he did. “You better hope you’re telling the truth, Jay. Because if you had anything to do with this… I’ll make sure you pay.”
Jay didn’t respond, just watched as Yeonjun walked out of the room, his gaze following him until the door clicked shut behind him.
As Yeonjun left the police station, the weight of Jay’s words lingered in his mind. He had come looking for closure, for some semblance of an end to the terror that had gripped Lakewood. But instead, he was left with more questions, more uncertainty. Jay’s cryptic warning echoed in his thoughts, a dark promise that the nightmare was far from over.
And as the sun set over Lakewood, casting long shadows across the town, Yeonjun couldn’t shake the feeling that something even darker was lurking just around the corner.
======================================================
The drive to the outskirts of town was silent, the tension between Hanbin and Yeonjun palpable as they neared their destination. The narrow road twisted and turned through dense woods, the trees closing in around them as the late afternoon sun filtered through the branches, casting eerie shadows on the ground. Yeonjun's mind was racing, trying to piece together everything that had led them to this moment.
Hanbin had called him early that morning with a lead—Brandon James' mother, Cassie, was still alive. The news had hit Yeonjun like a freight train. The legend of Brandon James had haunted Lakewood for years, but the idea that his mother was out there, possibly holding the key to understanding the madness that had consumed their lives, was almost too much to process. Hanbin had warned him that Cassie wasn't entirely lucid, that time and tragedy had taken their toll on her mind. But Yeonjun needed answers, no matter how broken the source might be.
As they pulled up to the old, dilapidated house at the end of the road, Yeonjun felt a chill run down his spine. The house was a relic of another time, its once-white paint now peeling and weathered, the windows clouded with dirt and grime. Weeds and overgrown bushes choked the yard, adding to the sense of abandonment.
“This is it,” Hanbin said quietly, turning off the engine. He glanced at Yeonjun, his expression serious. “Are you sure you want to do this? Cassie’s not… well, she’s not all there. But she might say something that could help us.”
Yeonjun nodded, his determination outweighing his fear. “I need to know, Hanbin. Whatever she has to say, I need to hear it.”
They got out of the car and approached the front door, which creaked open before they could knock. A frail, elderly woman stood in the doorway, her gray hair wild and untamed, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and curiosity. She looked them up and down, her gaze lingering on Yeonjun.
“You’ve come back,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I knew you’d come back… Daisy.”
Yeonjun froze, a cold wave of realization washing over him. Cassie wasn’t seeing him as Yeonjun—she was seeing him as someone else. As Daisy.
Hanbin cleared his throat, trying to ease the tension. “Mrs. James, this is Yeonjun. We were hoping to talk to you about—”
But Cassie wasn’t listening to him. She was still staring at Yeonjun, her eyes wide with a mix of recognition and despair. “You shouldn’t have come back,” she muttered, shaking her head. “It’s all your fault, you know. He loved you, Daisy. He would have done anything for you.”
Yeonjun exchanged a worried glance with Hanbin, then stepped closer to Cassie. “Mrs. James… I’m not Daisy. I’m Yeonjun. But I need to understand what happened. What happened to Brandon?”
Cassie’s expression shifted from confusion to anger. “What happened? What happened? You happened, that’s what! Brandon was a good boy, but you… you ruined him! Always trying to protect him, to hide him away. But he was stronger than you thought. He wanted to prove himself, to show you he wasn’t just some… some monster!”
She was becoming agitated, her voice rising as she spoke. Yeonjun felt a pang of guilt, even though he knew she wasn’t really talking to him. “He begged me, you know. Begged me to let him take that job at the bowling alley. Said he wanted to be close to you, that he’d do anything for you, Daisy. But it wasn’t enough, was it? They killed him, and it’s all your fault!”
Cassie’s words cut through Yeonjun like a knife. The depth of Brandon’s devotion to Daisy, the desperation to be more than what people saw him as—it all became painfully clear. But the truth was twisted, distorted by years of pain and loss.
“I’m sorry,” Yeonjun said softly, even though he knew it wasn’t really his apology to give. “I’m so sorry for what happened to Brandon. But I need to know… was there anyone else? Anyone who might have wanted to hurt him?”
Cassie’s anger seemed to deflate, replaced by a deep, sorrowful sigh. She sank into an old armchair just inside the door, her hands trembling as she pressed them to her face. “Everyone wanted to hurt him,” she whispered. “Everyone saw him as a monster. But he wasn’t. He was my boy… my sweet boy…”
Hanbin stepped forward, trying to comfort her. “Mrs. James, please, we’re trying to find out the truth. We need to know if there’s anyone who might be trying to finish what they started with Brandon.”
But Cassie was lost in her own memories, her eyes distant. “They’ll come for you too, Daisy,” she muttered, staring at Yeonjun. “They’ll come for you, just like they came for him. You can’t escape it.”
Yeonjun felt a shiver run down his spine, the weight of her words pressing down on him. “Mrs. James, who are ‘they’? Who’s coming for us?”
Cassie didn’t answer. She just stared off into the distance, rocking slightly in her chair as if trying to soothe herself. It was clear she wasn’t going to give them any more information.
Hanbin gently touched Yeonjun’s arm, nodding toward the door. “We should go,” he whispered. “She’s said all she can.”
======================================================
As Yeonjun turned to leave, Cassie began to hum a familiar tune, her voice wavering but clear. The melody sent a shiver down his spine—he recognized it instantly. It was the same song that had played at the bowling alley, the one that had echoed eerily through the darkened lanes the night of Gunwook’s murder.
Cassie’s voice grew louder as she started to sing the lyrics softly, her eyes closing as if she were lost in a distant memory. “There’s something in the way she moves… attracts me like no other lover…”
Yeonjun froze in his tracks, his heart pounding. “That song… how do you know that song?”
Cassie opened her eyes, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Brandon loved that song,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “He used to play it over and over in the house. It was his favorite.”
Yeonjun exchanged a glance with Hanbin, who was standing by the door, equally stunned. “You said Brandon loved it,” Yeonjun pressed gently, “but what about his son? Did he like it too?”
Cassie’s eyes lit up with recognition, and she nodded eagerly. “Oh yes, his boy loved it too. He used to hum along with Brandon, trying to learn the words. They were so close, those two.”
Yeonjun’s pulse quickened as he took a step closer to Cassie. “Brandon’s son… he was there, wasn’t he? He was at the bowling alley with him?”
Cassie’s smile faded slightly as she tried to recall. “Yes… yes, he was there. He was such a handsome boy, just like his father. Always trying to make Brandon proud.”
Yeonjun’s mind was racing, pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. “What was his name, Mrs. James? Do you remember his name?”
Cassie furrowed her brow, her eyes narrowing as she struggled to remember. “His name… oh, what was it…?”
Yeonjun leaned in, his voice barely a whisper. “Was it Jay? Was his name Jay?”
Cassie’s face lit up with sudden clarity, and she smiled widely. “Yes, Jay! That’s it! He was so handsome, like an old-time movie star. Always so charming… just like his father.”
The blood drained from Yeonjun’s face as the truth hit him like a ton of bricks. He stumbled back, nearly losing his balance as the enormity of what Cassie had just revealed sank in.
Hanbin stepped forward, his expression grim. “We need to go,” he said urgently, grabbing Yeonjun’s arm and steering him toward the door.
Yeonjun barely registered Hanbin’s words, his mind still reeling from the revelation. Jay Palmer—Brandon James’ son. The connection was undeniable, and it sent a wave of nausea crashing over him. Everything made sense now: Jay’s sudden appearance in Lakewood, his obsession with Sunoo, the eerie familiarity he’d felt when he first saw him. Jay had been hiding in plain sight, and they hadn’t even realized it.
======================================================
The drive home was silent, the weight of their discovery hanging heavily between them. Hanbin kept his eyes on the road, his grip on the steering wheel tight as he navigated through the quiet streets of Lakewood. Yeonjun stared out the window, his thoughts racing as he replayed the conversation with Cassie over and over in his mind. The truth was out now, and it was far more chilling than he’d ever imagined.
As they pulled up in front of Yeonjun’s house, Hanbin turned off the engine and glanced over at him. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but filled with concern.
Yeonjun took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. “I think so,” he replied, though he wasn’t entirely sure. “It’s just… knowing the truth now, it’s a lot to process.”
Hanbin nodded, understanding etched across his features. “I get it. But you deserve to know, Yeonjun. You deserve some peace after everything that’s happened.”
Yeonjun managed a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Hanbin. For everything. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Hanbin shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “We’re in this together, right? Just take care of yourself, okay? We’re going to get through this.”
Yeonjun nodded, then hesitated as he reached for the door handle. “Hanbin… be careful, too. We’re dealing with someone dangerous.”
Hanbin’s expression hardened, and he gave a determined nod. “You too, Yeonjun. We’ll figure this out. Just keep your head up.”
With that, Yeonjun opened the door and stepped out of the car, closing it gently behind him. He watched as Hanbin drove away, the tail lights disappearing into the distance. The night was eerily quiet, the only sound the soft rustle of leaves in the wind.
Yeonjun turned to walk up the steps to his front door when a flicker of movement caught his eye. He froze, his heart skipping a beat as he spotted a familiar truck parked a few feet away. Soobin was sitting inside, his silhouette barely visible in the dim light.
For a moment, their eyes met through the windshield, and Yeonjun felt a pang of guilt twist in his chest. He hadn’t spoken to Soobin since they’d broken things off, and now, after everything that had happened, he didn’t even know where to begin.
======================================================
Soobin watched as Yeonjun disappeared inside his house, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet. There was something about the way Yeonjun had looked at him, the weight in his eyes, that kept him rooted to the spot. Finally, with a deep breath, he turned off the truck’s engine, stepped out, and walked up to the front door. He hesitated for a moment before knocking lightly.
The door creaked open, and Yeonjun stood there, looking surprised but not unwelcoming. “Soobin?”
“Hey,” Soobin said softly. “I just… I wanted to check on you. Make sure you’re really okay.”
Yeonjun smiled, a genuine one that reached his eyes, and it warmed something deep inside Soobin. “I’m fine,” Yeonjun said, and for the first time in a long while, he seemed to mean it. “Now that the killer’s caught… I actually feel like I can breathe again.”
Soobin nodded, relief washing over him. “I’m glad. We’ve all been through so much… I was worried.”
Yeonjun’s smile softened, and he took a small step closer. “Me too. But, Soobin… I’ve been thinking. Maybe we should try to make up for lost time. You know, focus on what really matters now.”
Soobin’s eyes brightened at that. “I’d like that. In fact… I heard a rumor there’s a Halloween dance happening tomorrow night. Maybe we could go together? As awkward as it might be.”
Yeonjun chuckled, the sound light and carefree. “Only if we enter the awkward couple dressing contest. We’ve got a reputation to uphold, you know.”
Soobin laughed, a genuine, joyful sound that echoed through the night. “Deal. I’m already thinking of costume ideas.”
“Great,” Yeonjun grinned, his spirits lifted. “But first, how about staying for dinner? My mom’s cooking, and it’s been a while since we all sat down together. We could use some normalcy.”
Soobin’s smile softened as he nodded. “I’d love that.”
Yeonjun stepped aside to let Soobin in, and they walked into the warmth of the house together. The smell of a home-cooked meal filled the air, and the sound of laughter echoed from the kitchen. Tiffany was setting the table, her face lighting up when she saw Soobin.
“Soobin! It’s been too long,” she said warmly, pulling him into a quick hug. “I’m so glad you’re joining us.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Choi,” Soobin replied, feeling the tension he’d been carrying for days finally begin to melt away. “It’s good to be here.”
Minho, who had just walked in with a plate of food, greeted Soobin with a nod and a smile. “We could use some extra company. This one,” he pointed at Yeonjun, “has been keeping to himself too much lately.”
Yeonjun rolled his eyes playfully. “I’ve had my reasons, Dad.”
“None good enough to miss out on a meal like this,” Tiffany chimed in, placing the last dish on the table. “Now, let’s eat before it gets cold.”
They all gathered around the table, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the room was filled with lighthearted conversation and laughter. Soobin sat next to Yeonjun, their knees brushing under the table, a simple yet comforting connection that neither of them took for granted.
As the evening went on, they shared stories, teased each other, and for a little while, the horrors of the past few months seemed like a distant memory. Yeonjun caught Soobin’s eye more than once, a silent agreement passing between them that things were going to get better from here on out.
After dinner, as they cleared the table, Soobin leaned in close to Yeonjun and whispered, “I think we’re going to win that awkward couple contest tomorrow.”
Yeonjun smirked, nudging Soobin’s shoulder. “We better. I’ve got the perfect costumes in mind.”
“Can’t wait,” Soobin grinned, his heart light with the promise of something good on the horizon.
As they finished up, Tiffany and Minho joined them in the living room, where they all settled in for a movie. The night was filled with more laughter and warmth, and for the first time in a long time, Yeonjun felt truly at peace.
It wasn’t just the end of the nightmare they’d been living—it was the beginning of something new. And as Soobin’s hand found his under the blanket, Yeonjun knew that whatever came next, they’d face it together.
======================================================
Sunoo stood in front of the bathroom mirror, the steam from the shower starting to fog up the glass. He let out a deep breath, trying to shake off the unease that had been gnawing at him. The events of the past few days had left him on edge, and all he wanted was to relax under the hot water and forget about everything for a while.
But as he began to undress, something caught his eye—a faint, blinking light from across the room. Sunoo’s heart skipped a beat when he realized it was coming from Sunghoon's laptop. The webcam, which had been off just moments ago, was now flickering on and off.
A cold wave of panic surged through him, and he quickly pulled his shirt back on, feeling exposed under the invisible gaze of whoever—or whatever—was on the other side. His mind raced, jumping to the worst possible conclusions. He grabbed his phone and, with trembling hands, dialed Sunghoon’s number.
It rang only once before Sunghoon picked up. “Sunoo? What’s wrong?”
“Were you spying on me?” Sunoo blurted out, his voice sharp and accusing. “Don’t lie to me, Sunghoon. I saw the webcam turn on by itself. You’re the only one who could’ve done it!”
“What? No, Sunoo, I swear it wasn’t me!” Sunghoon’s voice was filled with confusion and concern. “I’d never do something like that to you. You have to believe me.”
But Sunoo couldn’t stop the rush of paranoia that had taken hold of him. “How can I believe you? After everything that’s happened, how can I trust anyone?”
Sunghoon’s voice softened, pleading. “I know you’re scared, but I promise, I had nothing to do with this. We’ve been through so much together—why would I betray you like this?”
Sunoo’s hand clenched around the phone, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. He wanted to believe Sunghoon, wanted to trust that his friend would never do something so violating. But the fear that had settled in his chest was overwhelming, drowning out any rational thoughts. “I just… I can’t stay here anymore, Sunghoon. I need to go back home.”
“Sunoo, wait—” Sunghoon began, but Sunoo had already made up his mind.
“I’m sorry,” Sunoo whispered, cutting him off. “But I need to feel safe, and right now, I don’t.”
Sunghoon was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was tinged with hurt. “If you really think that’s best… I won’t stop you. But please, Sunoo, be careful. Whoever did this… they might be trying to scare you, to isolate you.”
Sunoo nodded, even though Sunghoon couldn’t see him. “I will. And… I’m sorry, Sunghoon. I just can’t stay.”
They hung up, and Sunoo stared at his phone for a long moment, his heart heavy with guilt and confusion. He glanced back at the laptop, its screen now dark and unresponsive, as if nothing had happened. But Sunoo knew better.
Grabbing his bag, Sunoo hastily packed his things. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant noise outside, made him jump. He felt like he was being watched, even though there was no one else in the room.
As he zipped up his bag, his thoughts turned back to Sunghoon. He wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that Sunghoon would never do something so awful. But the fear had taken root too deeply, and until he could sort through his own thoughts, he knew he had to leave.
Sunoo slung the bag over his shoulder and took one last look around the room. This was supposed to be a safe place, a refuge after everything that had happened. But now, it felt like a trap.
Without another word, he left the apartment and stepped out into the night, his heart heavy with the uncertainty of what lay ahead.
======================================================
Sheriff Minho’s car rolled to a stop on a quiet street far from the usual hustle of Lakewood. The area was unfamiliar, but the lead he’d received had been too promising to ignore. The dispatcher had tracked a signal indicating that someone connected to the case might be hiding out here. Minho's pulse quickened with the excitement of a breakthrough, but he remained vigilant.
He parked his car and glanced around. The street was deserted, giving him a sense of isolation. He double-checked his weapon, ensuring it was loaded and ready. Minho had decided to go in alone—his gut told him this could be the break they needed, and he didn’t want to risk tipping off the killer with a larger presence.
With a determined stride, Minho approached the old, weathered house at the end of the street. The front porch creaked under his weight as he pushed open the door, the hinges protesting with a loud groan.
Inside, the house was eerily quiet. Dust danced in the narrow beams of sunlight that filtered through the grimy windows. Minho moved cautiously, his flashlight cutting through the dimness. He navigated through the cluttered living room, his senses on high alert.
A few moments later, Minho entered what appeared to be a makeshift surveillance room. A dozen monitors were scattered across a dusty desk, each displaying different angles of various locations around town. One monitor caught his eye—his own patrol car parked outside.
Minho’s frown deepened. The realization that someone had been watching him set his nerves on edge. He slowly turned around, his flashlight beam scanning the room. His instincts screamed that he wasn’t alone.
Suddenly, a soft rustling sound came from behind him. Minho spun around, his gun drawn and aimed into the darkness. “Show yourself!” he called, his voice steady despite the rising tension.
There was no response, just the unsettling quiet of the abandoned house. Minho moved toward the source of the noise, his heart pounding. The beam of his flashlight revealed nothing but shadows and old furniture.
Before he could react further, a sharp, blinding pain exploded in the back of his head. Minho’s vision darkened, and his legs buckled beneath him. The last thing he saw was a glint of metal—then, darkness.
The killer, masked and cloaked, emerged from the shadows. They stood over Minho’s unconscious body, the fireplace poker still clutched in their gloved hand. With a chilling sense of satisfaction, the killer set the poker aside and began to examine the surveillance equipment, scanning through the footage to ensure nothing incriminating was left behind.
The killer’s eyes narrowed behind the mask as they noted the Sheriff’s car parked outside, a grim reminder that their plans had to be executed with precision. They knew the next steps would require careful planning, but for now, they relished the victory of having neutralized one of their biggest obstacles.
The house fell silent once more, save for the soft hum of the monitors and the occasional creak of the old wooden floor. The killer’s task was far from over, but for the moment, they had managed to stay one step ahead.
As Minho lay unconscious on the floor, the killer slipped out of the house, leaving no trace of their presence. The door creaked shut behind them, and the quiet of the street reclaimed its calm.
======================================================
Beomgyu paced back and forth in the dimly lit office, his frustration palpable. Jaehyun sat at the computer, typing furiously as he searched through Taehyun’s files. The office was cluttered with papers and half-empty coffee cups, evidence of their long night of investigating.
“Come on, there has to be something,” Beomgyu muttered, glancing over Jaehyun’s shoulder.
Jaehyun’s eyes were fixed on the screen. “I’m going through every file. If Taehyun was recording anything important, we’ll find it.”
Beomgyu sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t get it. Why would Taehyun be involved? He seemed so normal, just a guy working in a bar.”
Jaehyun’s fingers paused over the keyboard. “Maybe normal isn’t what it seems. We know Jay is involved somehow, but if Taehyun is connected, we need to find out why.”
Just then, a video file labeled “Taehyun’s Night” popped up. Jaehyun clicked on it, and the screen flickered to life. The footage showed Taehyun in a bar, his camera zooming in on Sohee and Soobin leaving together. The video was shaky but clear enough to see the two of them walking out into the night.
Beomgyu leaned in, his eyes narrowing. “What’s this? Sohee and Soobin? Why is Taehyun filming them?”
Jaehyun’s brows furrowed. “It looks like Taehyun was keeping tabs on them. But why? And what does this have to do with Jay?”
Beomgyu rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We need to consider the possibility that Soobin is more involved than we thought. Maybe he’s connected to Jay somehow. This video doesn’t give us a direct link, but it’s suspicious.”
Jaehyun nodded, still watching the video. “If Taehyun was tracking Sohee and Soobin, he might have been trying to gather information on them for some reason. But why?”
Beomgyu’s expression grew serious. “We need to confront Soobin. If he’s hiding something, now’s the time to find out.”
Jaehyun saved the video and shut down the computer. “Let’s go. We need to find Soobin and get some answers. The more we dig, the more tangled this web becomes.”
Beomgyu followed Jaehyun out of the office, his mind racing with questions. If Soobin was involved, it would change everything they thought they knew about the case. They needed to get to the bottom of it before the killer struck again.
As they headed out into the night, the city’s neon lights blurred past them, a stark contrast to the darkness that seemed to be closing in on them. The investigation was far from over, and with each new clue, the stakes grew higher.
======================================================
Yeonjun glanced at his phone as he walked into the bustling school gym, decorated with orange and black streamers, jack-o'-lanterns, and cobwebs. The Halloween dance was in full swing, and the chatter of excited students filled the air. He spotted Soobin, dressed as a classic Dracula, waiting by the entrance.
“Hey!” Yeonjun called out, making his way over. He was dressed in a suave, black suit with a red tie, playing off a modernized take on Count Dracula. “Sorry I’m a bit late. Got caught up with some stuff.”
Soobin smiled, adjusting his cape. “No worries. I’m just glad you could make it. I texted you about meeting here at six, remember?”
Yeonjun nodded, glancing around the room. “Yeah, I got your text. I’m actually heading to Sunoo’s party later. It’s going to be a busy night.”
The music pulsed from the DJ booth where Jaehyun, dressed in a vampire costume complete with a faux cape and fangs, was mixing tracks. The scene was festive, and the atmosphere was lively.
“Let’s go check out the DJ,” Soobin suggested, leading the way.
As they approached the DJ booth, Jaehyun gave them a nod of recognition. His eyes sparkled with mischief behind his vampire fangs. “Hey, Yeonjun! Soobin! Ready to dance?”
Yeonjun grinned. “Absolutely. This place looks amazing.”
Soobin added, “Jaehyun, you’re killing it with the music. How’s it been?”
Jaehyun adjusted the turntables with a flourish. “Thanks! It’s been a blast. I’ve always loved Halloween. Feels like the perfect time for some dark beats.”
Beomgyu, who was dressed as a mysterious masked figure, approached the DJ booth. His expression was serious as he greeted Jaehyun. “Hey, Jaehyun. Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Jaehyun raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Sure, what’s up?”
Beomgyu glanced around, making sure no one was within earshot. “I need to ask you something. I’m thinking about telling Yeonjun about the footage. What do you think?”
Jaehyun’s eyes narrowed. “I don't know. Do you think Soobin could really be connected to the killer? That’s a pretty big accusation.”
Beomgyu sighed. “I’m not sure yet, but the video raises questions. I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but I feel like I need to tell Yeonjun. He deserves to know if his safety is at risk.”
Jaehyun nodded thoughtfully. “If you think it’s important, you should talk to him. But be careful. We don’t know what’s really going on with Soobin. Make sure you have all the facts before you say anything.”
Beomgyu looked over at Yeonjun, who was chatting and laughing with Soobin near the dance floor. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. Thanks for the advice.”
Jaehyun gave him a reassuring smile. “No problem. Now, go have some fun. The dance floor’s calling.”
As Beomgyu walked away, he took one last look at the lively dance scene. The music and laughter filled the air, but his mind was preoccupied with the video and the unsettling possibility that Soobin might be involved. He hoped he wasn’t jumping to conclusions and that the night would bring clarity rather than more confusion.
Yeonjun and Soobin danced and enjoyed the party, but Beomgyu couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. The Halloween dance was meant to be a celebration, but for Beomgyu, it felt like another piece of the puzzle was waiting to fall into place.
======================================================
Yeonjun maneuvered through the bustling gym, weaving past students and decorations to reach his mom, Tiffany. She was stationed by the punch bowl, occasionally peering over to make sure no one slipped anything unsavory into the drinks. The Halloween decorations swayed gently in the warm glow of the overhead lights.
“Hey, Mom,” Yeonjun greeted as he approached. “How’s it going?”
Tiffany gave him a tired smile. “Oh, you know, just keeping an eye on things. Sheriff Minho’s late as usual. I’m beginning to think he’s going to miss the whole dance.”
Yeonjun chuckled, taking a sip from his cup. “Yeah, Soobin can be pretty late too. Maybe it runs in the family.”
Tiffany laughed lightly. “That’s probably true. But it’s still a bit frustrating. Anyway, how’s the dance going for you?”
“Pretty great,” Yeonjun said, glancing toward the dance floor where Soobin was trying to master some new dance moves. “Soobin and I have been having a blast.”
Just then, Soobin approached, looking dapper in his Dracula costume. “Hey, Yeonjun, I’m going to grab us some drinks. Want anything?”
“Just the usual,” Yeonjun replied with a smile. “Thanks, Soobin.”
As Soobin headed toward the refreshment table, Beomgyu made his way over to Yeonjun. His face was serious, a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere around them.
“Hey, Yeonjun,” Beomgyu said, trying to keep his voice low. “Can we talk for a minute?”
Yeonjun noticed the urgency in Beomgyu’s tone. “Sure, what’s up?”
Beomgyu pulled out his phone and showed Yeonjun the video he’d mentioned earlier. The footage was of Sohee and Soobin walking out of a bar together, the video quality making it clear that Taehyun was the one filming.
Yeonjun’s face tightened as he watched the video. “Beomgyu, this isn’t what it looks like. I mean, we all have videos that make us look bad. Remember the one with you?”
Beomgyu shook his head, his expression unwavering. “Yeonjun, this isn’t about me. It’s about Soobin. This video raises questions. I’m telling you, you can’t just ignore this. It’s a red flag.”
Yeonjun felt a knot form in his stomach. “Soobin’s been nothing but supportive. I don’t want to believe he could be involved in anything like this.”
Beomgyu pressed on. “I get that. But sometimes people aren’t what they seem. You need to be careful. If Soobin’s involved, you’re at risk.”
Yeonjun looked back at Soobin, who was chatting with a group of friends and grabbing the drinks. “I just don’t know if I can accept this. Soobin’s been there for me.”
Beomgyu sighed. “I understand you’re in denial. It’s hard to accept, but you have to consider the evidence. You need to think about your safety.”
Before Yeonjun could respond, Soobin returned with the drinks. He handed one to Yeonjun and smiled. “Here you go. What’s up?”
Yeonjun hesitated, glancing at Beomgyu and then back at Soobin. “Just had a bit of a serious conversation. Thanks for the drinks.”
Soobin noticed the tension in the air but chose not to press further. “No problem. Let’s enjoy the rest of the night.”
As Soobin and Yeonjun headed back to the dance floor, Yeonjun couldn’t shake the nagging feeling from Beomgyu’s words. Despite the festive atmosphere, the video had planted a seed of doubt in his mind. He tried to push it aside, focusing on the present, but the uncertainty lingered, making it hard to fully enjoy the night.
======================================================
The Halloween dance was in full swing, the gymnasium lit by twinkling lights and fog machines that created an ethereal atmosphere. Yeonjun and Soobin had managed to steal a moment away from the crowd, taking refuge in a quieter corner of the room where the music softened to a slow melody. They moved gently together, their steps in sync as they swayed to the rhythm.
Yeonjun leaned in, his voice barely audible over the music. “Soobin, I need to talk to you about something. It’s about the video Beomgyu showed me.”
Soobin’s expression shifted from relaxed to serious. “What about it?”
Yeonjun took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. “Beomgyu’s convinced that you’re hiding something. He showed me a video of you and Sohee, and it made me wonder about your relationship with him. I need to know if you have anything to do with these murders.”
Soobin’s brow furrowed as he tried to process Yeonjun’s words. “Yeonjun, I swear, I don’t know what Beomgyu is talking about. The video doesn’t show the whole picture.”
Yeonjun’s eyes searched Soobin’s face for any sign of deceit. “Then explain it to me. What was your relationship with Sohee, and why were you with him at that bar?”
Soobin sighed, his shoulders slumping as he began to speak. “It was right before school started. I had a huge fight with my dad. I was feeling pretty low and ended up at a bar. That’s where I saw Sohee. He was really drunk, stumbling around.”
Yeonjun nodded, urging him to continue.
“Sohee said he was 23, and he was trying to drive himself home. I offered to call him a cab, but he insisted he could drive. I took his keys to stop him from driving drunk and drove him home myself.”
Yeonjun’s gaze remained fixed on Soobin, looking for any inconsistencies. “And then?”
“Sohee asked me to come inside, but I said no. I didn’t want to impose. I just made sure he got inside safely and left.”
Yeonjun seemed unconvinced, still grappling with the implications of the video. “It’s just hard to believe that you have no connection to this. Everything seems so connected. I don’t know if I can trust you right now.”
Soobin’s face hardened, a mix of hurt and frustration evident in his eyes. “Yeonjun, I’ve told you the truth. I’m not involved in any of this. If you want to believe otherwise, that’s your choice. But Jay won. This whole thing is ruining everything.”
With that, Soobin pulled away from Yeonjun, his anger and sadness palpable. He turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd. Yeonjun watched him go, feeling a pang of regret mixed with the lingering doubts. The music continued to play, but the joy of the night seemed to fade, replaced by an uneasy silence that settled over him.
======================================================
The slow dance had ended, and the once vibrant energy of the Halloween dance seemed to have dimmed. Yeonjun stood off to the side, his mind reeling from his conversation with Soobin. Just as he was trying to collect his thoughts, Beomgyu stormed up to him, his face a mix of frustration and anger.
“Yeonjun, you really can’t believe it? Soobin could be involved, and you’re just going to ignore it because you’re so wrapped up in your own feelings?” Beomgyu’s voice was sharp, filled with disbelief.
Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not ignoring anything, Beomgyu. I just— I can’t believe Soobin would do something like this. I need to hear him out. I need to be sure.”
Beomgyu’s frustration boiled over. “Oh, so now you’re defending Soobin after everything? You’re telling me you trust him more than you trust me? The same person who was accused of killing Sohee?”
Yeonjun’s face reddened, his anger matching Beomgyu’s. “You think it’s easy for me to just believe you’re innocent? Look at the evidence, Beomgyu. How am I supposed to reconcile that with what’s happening?”
Beomgyu’s hands clenched into fists, his voice rising. “We’re going to have to agree to disagree, Yeonjun. You’re so caught up in trying to prove Soobin’s innocence that you’re blind to the reality of what’s happening. Fine, if you don’t believe me, then you know what? I’m done trying to convince you.”
Yeonjun watched as Beomgyu’s expression hardened, his frustration boiling over. “Where are you going?”
Beomgyu’s eyes flashed with anger. “I’m going to get drunk. Maybe that will help me forget how you’ve turned your back on me.”
Without another word, Beomgyu turned and pushed his way through the crowd, his frustration evident in every step. Yeonjun stood there, feeling a mix of anger, sadness, and confusion. The Halloween dance, once a place of celebration, now felt like a battleground of emotions and unresolved tensions.
As Beomgyu disappeared into the night, Yeonjun felt a deep sense of loss. The arguments and accusations had left him feeling more isolated than ever. The music and laughter of the dance seemed to fade into the background as he wrestled with the weight of the decisions he had to make and the people he had to trust.
======================================================
Hanbin approached Yeonjun with a determined stride, his face etched with a mix of urgency and frustration. The music and chatter of the Halloween dance seemed to blur around them as Hanbin caught Yeonjun's attention.
“Yeonjun, I need to talk to you,” Hanbin said, his voice low and urgent. He pulled out a worn yearbook from his bag and held it up for Yeonjun to see.
Yeonjun frowned, confused. “What’s going on, Hanbin? I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
Hanbin ignored the ambient noise, focusing entirely on Yeonjun. “I went back to see Cassie James. Something didn’t sit right with me about our last visit. I showed her this yearbook.”
He flipped open the yearbook to a page with various student photos. “Cassie pointed out someone who she says came to visit her, and it wasn’t Jay.”
Yeonjun’s brow furrowed. “It wasn’t Jay? Then who was it?”
Hanbin pointed to a photo in the yearbook. “It was Soobin. Cassie said Soobin was the one who came to see her, not Jay. She was adamant about it.”
Yeonjun’s eyes widened in shock. “Soobin? But why would he—” He stopped himself, the weight of the new information settling heavily on his shoulders. “Are you sure?”
Hanbin nodded firmly. “Cassie was clear. She said the visitor was someone who looked just like the person in this photo. I double-checked with her. She’s certain it was Soobin.”
Yeonjun's mind raced, grappling with the implications. “Soobin was the one visiting Cassie? That changes everything.”
Hanbin nodded, his face serious. “It certainly does. We need to figure out why Soobin was visiting her and what that means for everything that’s been happening.”
Yeonjun felt a rush of anxiety. “I need to talk to Soobin. This changes everything about what I thought I knew.”
Hanbin placed a reassuring hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder. “Be careful, Yeonjun. There’s a lot at stake here. We need to piece together this puzzle before things get even more complicated.”
Yeonjun took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Thanks, Hanbin. I’ll handle it.”
======================================================
The dance floor erupted in gasps and murmurs as the lights flickered and went out, plunging the room into darkness. The DJ’s music stuttered to a stop, and panic rippled through the crowd. A few seconds later, a grainy video flickered to life on a large screen at the front of the hall.
Yeonjun squinted at the screen, trying to make out the image. The sight that greeted him was horrific: Sheriff Minho, bloodied and bound to a tree with thick ropes. His face was pale and contorted in pain, his mouth covered in blood. The sight was almost too much to bear.
The room fell silent as the video continued. Minho’s eyes were wide with terror, and his voice, muffled by the blood, barely managed to form words.
“Help... Help me...”
Screams erupted as the crowd struggled to process the chilling display. Yeonjun’s heart pounded in his chest. He exchanged a worried glance with Hanbin, who stood beside him, his face pale.
“What’s happening? Is this real?” Hanbin asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“It has to be,” Yeonjun said, his voice tight with dread. “Minho... what happened to him?”
Before Hanbin could respond, an alarm blared from his phone. The piercing sound cut through the chaos of the dance. Hanbin glanced at the screen, his face turning even paler.
“Jay has escaped and is armed!” the alert screamed. “Officer down!”
“What?!” Yeonjun shouted, trying to process the alarming message. “Jay escaped? That means...”
Hanbin’s face was grim as he turned to Yeonjun. “It means everything just got a lot worse. We need to get out of here and find out what’s going on.”
The scene at the police station was chaos. Officers scrambled, their voices filled with panic as they tried to manage the situation. The security cameras had captured the horrifying scene: Jay’s jail cell door wide open, and the body of a guard sprawled on the floor. The guard’s insides were grotesquely displayed, a grisly testament to the killer’s brutality.
One of the officers, visibly shaken, spoke into a radio. “We’ve got a situation! Jay’s escaped, and we have an officer down. Lock down the area and secure all exits!”
In the midst of the pandemonium, an officer approached the scene, his face pale as he took in the sight of the fallen guard and the open cell. “We need to find Jay and fast. He’s armed and dangerous.”
Back at the dance, Yeonjun and Hanbin struggled to make their way through the panicked crowd. The announcement of Jay’s escape only heightened the fear and confusion among the guests.
“We need to go,” Hanbin said, grabbing Yeonjun’s arm. “The dance is no longer safe. We have to find out what’s really happening.”
Yeonjun nodded, his mind racing. “We need to find Soobin and make sure he’s okay. And we need to figure out what Jay’s next move is.”
As they hurried out of the venue, the haunting images of Minho and the escaped Jay loomed large in their minds. The Halloween night, meant for celebration, had turned into a nightmare of fear and uncertainty. With the killer on the loose and chaos spreading, Yeonjun knew that their fight for survival was far from over.
Chapter 10: Revelations
Notes:
"It's simple. Revenge"
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The dance was in full swing, the beats of the music thumping through the decorated gymnasium as students laughed, danced, and lost themselves in the festive atmosphere. The mood was light, costumes flashing under the dim lights as everyone enjoyed the Halloween spirit. Yeonjun and Soobin had just finished their slow dance, the tension between them momentarily forgotten, when the room was abruptly plunged into darkness.
The music cut off with a jarring screech, and confused murmurs spread through the crowd. Suddenly, a large monitor above the DJ booth flickered to life, casting an eerie glow over the dance floor. Gasps filled the room as a live feed of Sheriff Minho appeared on the screen.
He was bound to a tree, ropes cutting into his arms and chest. His face was bruised, blood trickling down from a gash on his forehead. The sight was horrific, made even more disturbing by the flickering, grainy quality of the video. Minho’s eyes were wide with fear, and his mouth moved, trying to form words, but no sound came through.
Yeonjun’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Oh my God,” he whispered, frozen in place.
Soobin grabbed his arm. “Yeonjun, what’s happening? Is this real?”
“I… I don’t know,” Yeonjun stammered, his eyes glued to the screen. “It has to be.”
Suddenly, the feed cut out, plunging the room into darkness once more. The silence that followed was deafening, only broken by the panicked whispers and shuffling of students.
The lights flickered back on, and the room erupted into chaos. Students screamed, some trying to flee while others stood in shocked disbelief. Yeonjun’s head was spinning, his thoughts a jumbled mess as he tried to comprehend what he had just seen.
Tiffany, who had been chaperoning near the punch bowl, hurried over to him. Her face was pale, her expression grim. “Yeonjun, listen to me,” she said, her voice firm despite the fear in her eyes. “I just spoke with the authorities. Jay has escaped his jail cell.”
“What?” Yeonjun felt like the ground was slipping out from under him. “But how? He was supposed to be locked up!”
“He killed the guard who was watching him,” Tiffany continued, her voice low. “But the crime scene… something about it looks staged. They’re not sure what’s going on, but it’s dangerous. I need you to stay here, where it’s safe.”
Yeonjun’s mind was racing. “But what about you? Where are you going?”
Tiffany squeezed his arm, her eyes filled with worry. “I have to go to work, honey. I’ll be fine. Just stay here and don’t do anything rash. We don’t know who we can trust right now.”
As Tiffany hurried off, Hanbin appeared at Yeonjun’s side, his face set with determination. “I’m going with her,” he said, glancing at Tiffany’s retreating figure. “There’s a story here, and I need to get to the bottom of it.”
Yeonjun grabbed his arm, panic rising in his chest. “Hanbin, this is serious. Jay is out there. What if he comes back?”
Hanbin looked him in the eye, his expression grim. “That’s exactly why I need to go. But listen to me, Yeonjun—don’t trust anyone. Not even Soobin. We don’t know who’s really behind all of this.”
Yeonjun felt a cold chill run down his spine. “What are you saying?"
“I don’t know,” Hanbin admitted. “But right now, we can’t afford to take chances. Stay here, keep your head down, and don’t let your guard down for a second.”
With that, Hanbin turned and followed Tiffany out of the gym, leaving Yeonjun standing alone in the chaos. The dance, once a night of fun and excitement, had turned into a nightmare. As he looked around at the frightened faces of his classmates, he realized that the worst was far from over. And with Jay on the loose and trust in short supply, he had no idea who he could rely on—or what was going to happen next.
======================================================
Tiffany pushed open the heavy door of the police station, the sterile scent of disinfectant hitting her as she stepped inside. The usual bustling activity was replaced by an eerie stillness, the weight of recent events pressing down on everyone inside. Officers moved with somber purpose, whispers filling the air like a low hum.
As she made her way through the station, her thoughts raced, replaying the gruesome images from the dance. The sight of Minho tied to that tree, bloodied and terrified, haunted her. And now, the news of Jay’s escape and the murder of an officer had everyone on edge.
"Ma'am," a young officer said, approaching her with a strained expression. "The scene is just ahead, in the holding area."
"Thank you," Tiffany replied, her voice steady despite the unease creeping up her spine. She steeled herself as she walked down the corridor, her heels clicking on the tile floor. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered slightly, casting long shadows that danced along the walls.
The holding area was cordoned off with police tape, a grim reminder of the violence that had taken place. Two officers stood guard outside, their faces pale and drawn. Tiffany nodded to them before ducking under the tape and stepping into the small, cold room.
The sight that greeted her was more horrifying than she had imagined.
The officer’s body was slumped against the wall, his lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Blood pooled beneath him, dark and congealing, as if time itself had stopped. But it wasn’t the blood that caught Tiffany’s attention—it was his throat.
A deep, precise cut had been made, and nestled within the open wound was something that sent a jolt of recognition through her. She moved closer, her breath catching in her throat as she crouched down to get a better look.
It was a carving of a heart, meticulously shaped and tucked into the flesh as if it were meant to be found. The lines were clean, the craftsmanship unsettlingly familiar. Tiffany’s hands shook as she reached for a pair of latex gloves from her pocket and carefully removed the carving from the officer’s throat.
Her fingers traced the edges of the small wooden heart, memories rushing back in a flood. She knew this heart—knew it all too well. It was one of the many “gifts” Brandon James had sent to her over two decades earlier, each one a twisted token of his obsession.
Tiffany’s mind raced. Why would this be here? How could it be connected to what was happening now? Brandon was long dead—or at least, that’s what she had always believed. But this carving… it was unmistakable.
Lost in thought, she didn’t notice one of the officers, Detective Lee, approach until he cleared his throat. “Sheriff Tiffany, are you alright?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.
Tiffany quickly slipped the heart into a plastic evidence bag and stood up, her expression hardening. “I’m fine,” she replied, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her unease. “But we need to find out how this got here and why.”
Detective Lee glanced at the bag in her hand, his brow furrowing. “What is it?”
Tiffany hesitated, then held the bag up for him to see. “It’s a heart,” she said quietly. “A carving, actually. Brandon James used to send these to me… a long time ago.”
Detective Lee’s eyes widened in shock. “You think this has something to do with him? But that doesn’t make sense—he’s dead.”
Tiffany shook her head, her mind still reeling. “I don’t know what to think anymore, but this can’t be a coincidence. Someone is sending a message, and they want me to know it.”
She looked down at the lifeless officer once more, a sinking feeling settling in her chest. Whoever had done this knew about her past—knew the terror she had lived through all those years ago. And now, it seemed, they were bringing that terror back to life.
“We need to find out who this officer was watching, and why this heart was left with him,” Tiffany said, her voice firm with determination. “We need answers, and we need them fast.”
Detective Lee nodded, pulling out his notepad. “I’ll get the files and start digging. But Sheriff, if this really is connected to Brandon James… what do you think they want?”
Tiffany glanced down at the heart, the memories of Brandon’s obsessive love flooding back. “I think,” she said slowly, “they want to finish what he started.”
As she turned to leave, her mind was already racing ahead, piecing together the fragments of the past with the horrors of the present. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning—and that the darkness she had escaped two decades ago was coming back to claim her once more.
======================================================
Yeonjun sat in the dimly lit hallway of the school, his phone pressed to his ear as he tried to steady his breathing. The dance had descended into chaos after the horrifying footage of Sheriff Minho appeared on the screen, but all he could think about was getting through to Soobin.
The call rang out, unanswered, for what felt like an eternity. "Come on, Soobin… pick up," Yeonjun muttered under his breath, his fingers drumming anxiously on his thigh. When the voicemail finally kicked in, Yeonjun sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes.
"Soobin, it's me," he said, his voice tinged with urgency. "I don’t know where you are right now, but… Ghostface has your dad. He’s in trouble. Please, call me back as soon as you get this."
He ended the call and stared at the phone, willing it to ring, but the screen remained dark. He shoved it back into his pocket, frustration gnawing at him. Where could Soobin be at a time like this?
Meanwhile, miles away in a secluded field, Soobin was far from his phone, his focus entirely on the task at hand. He sat in the driver’s seat of his car, the darkness outside pressing in on all sides, his only company the muted click of the gun’s magazine sliding into place.
He checked the chamber, his movements methodical, almost detached. The weight of the gun in his hand was oddly reassuring, a cold, solid reminder of the gravity of what lay ahead. He knew he should call Yeonjun back—he could see the missed call notification glaring at him from the corner of his vision—but he pushed it aside. There was something he had to take care of first.
The voicemail icon flashed on his screen, but Soobin ignored it, slipping the gun into the holster at his side. He took a deep breath, his hand tightening around the steering wheel. It was time to finish what he’d started.
Back at the school, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Yeonjun paced the room, his nerves on edge as the minutes ticked by with no word from Soobin. The students who hadn’t fled the dance huddled together in groups, whispers of fear and confusion spreading through the crowd.
Jaehyun, crouched behind the DJ booth, was furiously typing away on his laptop, his eyes glued to the screen as lines of code scrolled by. “I’m almost there,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. His fingers danced across the keyboard with the precision of someone who had spent countless hours mastering his craft.
Yeonjun approached him, desperation clear in his voice. “How much longer, Jaehyun? We need to find out where that feed is coming from.”
Jaehyun didn’t look up, his focus unbroken. “Just a few more minutes. This isn’t exactly a walk in the park, you know. Whoever set this up knows what they’re doing. But so do I.”
Yeonjun nodded, though it did little to calm his nerves. He ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing with thoughts of his father, bound and bloodied, out there somewhere. And Soobin… why wasn’t he answering?
The sound of the keyboard clicks filled the silence, each one echoing like a countdown in Yeonjun’s ears. He couldn’t just stand around waiting—every second that passed felt like another lost opportunity to save his father.
“Jaehyun,” he said, his voice taut with urgency, “what if we’re too late?”
Jaehyun paused, finally looking up to meet Yeonjun’s gaze. “We won’t be. We’ll find him."
“Soobin, where the hell are you?” he muttered to himself as he burst out of the school and into the night. His breath came in ragged bursts, the cool air doing little to calm the fire burning in his chest. He needed to get to his father, needed to stop whatever horror was about to unfold.
And he needed Soobin by his side. But as he ran towards his car, the only response he got was the cold, unyielding silence of the night.
======================================================
Yeonjun’s phone buzzed in his hand as he sped down the empty road, the headlights of his car cutting through the darkness. He glanced at the screen, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the unknown number. Without hesitation, he answered.
“Yeonjun,” a distorted voice crackled through the speaker, sending a chill down his spine. It was Ghostface.
“What do you want?” Yeonjun demanded, his voice shaking slightly despite his efforts to stay calm.
“You know what I want,” Ghostface replied, a twisted smile evident in the tone. “Tonight’s the finale, and people want to see blood. It’s time to see what you’ve learned, Yeonjun. Time to see if you’re ready to play the game.”
Yeonjun gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. “If you hurt Sheriff—”
“Oh, it’s too late for threats,” Ghostface interrupted, the distortion in the voice making it even more menacing. “The Sheriff's fate is sealed. The real question is… what are you going to do about it?”
Yeonjun’s mind raced, trying to piece together the clues he’d gathered, trying to find some way to outsmart the killer. “Where is he?” he asked, his voice quieter now, laced with desperation.
Ghostface laughed, the sound cold and hollow. “You’ll have to figure that out on your own. But I’ll give you a hint—tonight’s all about the blood. If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss the grand finale.”
The line went dead, leaving Yeonjun staring at his phone in stunned silence. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel, frustration and fear bubbling to the surface. “Damn it!”
As he raced towards the outskirts of town, Yeonjun’s phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn’t a call but a notification from Jaehyun, who had just sent him the coordinates to the abandoned farmhouse.
He swerved onto a dirt road, the tires kicking up dust as he sped towards the location. His thoughts were a chaotic mix of anger and dread. Ghostface wanted a show, but Yeonjun wasn’t about to let his father become the final act.
Meanwhile, back at the school, the large monitor over the DJ booth flickered to life again. The terrified students who had stayed behind gasped as Ghostface appeared on the screen, standing in front of Sheriff Minho. The Sheriff was bound to the tree, blood trickling from his wounds, his eyes barely open.
Ghostface stepped closer to the camera, his masked face filling the screen. He tilted his head, as if contemplating his next move, then reached out and shut off the camera. The screen went black.
======================================================
Sunoo leaned back in his lounge chair, trying to enjoy the warm glow of the setting sun as it dipped below the horizon. The pool party was in full swing around him, with music blasting and laughter echoing across the backyard. But despite the lively atmosphere, a knot of anxiety tightened in his chest.
He glanced down at his phone, seeing the unanswered texts he’d sent to Yeonjun and the others. “Where are they?” he muttered under his breath, frustrated as he stared at the screen. The messages sat there, unsent, as if frozen in time. He tried resending them, but nothing happened.
“What the hell?” Sunoo frowned, checking his signal. Full bars. There was no reason for his texts to be failing. His worry deepened, a strange sense of unease gnawing at the back of his mind.
“Hey, Sunoo!” a voice called out, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked up to see one of the more popular kids, a guy everyone nicknamed “Douchebag” for his co*cky attitude, sauntering over with a smug grin on his face.
Sunoo sighed, already dreading whatever obnoxious stunt Douchebag had in mind. “What do you want?” he asked, trying to keep his irritation in check.
Without a word, Douchebag pulled out something from behind his back. As he slipped it over his head, Sunoo’s heart skipped a beat. It was a Brandon James mask, identical to the one the killer had worn all those years ago. The sight of it made Sunoo’s blood run cold.
“Surprise!” Douchebag shouted, his voice muffled behind the mask. He jumped toward Sunoo, mimicking the movements of a slasher from a horror movie. The group of kids around the pool burst into laughter, clearly enjoying the show.
Sunoo’s heart raced, but his initial fear quickly morphed into anger. “Are you out of your mind?” he snapped, standing up and shoving Douchebag away from him. “Take that thing off!”
Douchebag pulled off the mask, still grinning like he’d pulled off the prank of the century. “Relax, man! It’s just a joke.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not funny,” Sunoo shot back, his fists clenched at his sides. “You’re sick if you think this is some kind of game.”
The laughter around them died down as the tension in the air became palpable. Douchebag’s grin faltered slightly, but he still shrugged it off. “Chill out, Sunoo. We’re just having fun. It’s a party.”
Sunoo glared at him, his mind racing with a mix of fury and frustration. “You know what? Just leave me alone.” He turned and stormed off toward the house, ignoring the puzzled looks from the others. He could hear them whispering behind him, but he didn’t care. He was done with this party and everyone at it.
As he stepped inside, the cool air of the house hit him, doing little to calm the storm brewing inside. He pulled out his phone again, trying once more to contact Yeonjun, Beomgyu, or Sunghoon—anyone who might be able to make sense of what was going on.
But again, nothing. The messages wouldn’t send, no calls would go through. It was as if his phone had been hijacked, held hostage by some unseen force.
“What the hell is happening?” Sunoo muttered to himself, pacing the room. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. It wasn’t just the prank or the failed messages—it was something deeper, more sinister.
Sunoo sat down on the edge of the couch, staring at his phone in disbelief. He could feel the unease growing into outright fear, a cold dread settling in his stomach. Ghostface… Could this be his doing? But how? And why?
He replayed everything in his mind, the feeling of dread tightening with each second. If Ghostface was truly behind this, then that meant he was more powerful—and closer—than any of them had realized.
Sunoo’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. He looked up, half-expecting to see one of his friends finally showing up to save the day.
But instead, it was Douchebag again, still holding that cursed mask. “Hey, Sunoo, I didn’t mean to—”
“Get out,” Sunoo interrupted, his voice cold. “Get out of my house, and take that mask with you.”
Douchebag looked taken aback, then annoyed. “Whatever, man,” he muttered, turning on his heel and heading back out.
As the door clicked shut behind him, Sunoo was left alone in the quiet house, the distant sounds of the party muffled by the walls. He glanced at his phone one last time, hoping against hope that something might go through.
But the screen remained blank, his messages unsent. Ghostface had cut him off from the world, isolating him completely.
Sunoo set the phone down, trying to steady his breathing. He had to figure out what to do next. He couldn’t stay here alone, but with no way to reach anyone, he was trapped.
Just then, a new message notification appeared on his screen, making his heart skip a beat. But when he opened it, his blood ran cold.
It was from an unknown number. The message read: It's your turn.
======================================================
Beomgyu stepped into the house, the noise from the pool party still echoing faintly behind him as he closed the door. He looked around, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Sunoo, who was sitting on the edge of the couch, looking lost in thought.
"Hey, Sunoo," Beomgyu called out, walking over and plopping down beside him.
Sunoo glanced up, a small smile forming on his lips. "Beomgyu, hey. You finally made it."
Beomgyu nodded, but his expression was serious. "Yeah, but I’m not here to party. I came to talk."
Sunoo's smile faded as he noticed the tension in Beomgyu's voice. "What’s wrong?"
Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeonjun and I… we had a fight."
Sunoo frowned, concern etched on his face. "About what?"
"About Soobin," Beomgyu replied, his voice heavy with frustration. "I showed Yeonjun a video that makes Soobin look really suspicious. But he didn’t believe me. He’s so convinced that Soobin’s innocent, and I just… I don’t know. I can’t shake the feeling that something’s off."
Sunoo nodded slowly, understanding the weight of Beomgyu’s words. "I get it. It’s hard to know who to trust right now. But you and Yeonjun… you’re close. You’ll work it out."
Beomgyu leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "I hope so. I just… I feel like everything’s falling apart, you know? Like, we’re all getting caught up in this mess, and I don’t know how to fix it."
Sunoo placed a comforting hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder. "You’re not alone in this, Beomgyu. We’re all trying to figure it out. And we’ll get through it, somehow."
Beomgyu looked at Sunoo, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thanks, Sunoo. I needed to hear that."
Sunoo smiled back, the tension between them easing. "Anytime."
For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, just two friends finding solace in each other’s company. But then, the quiet was broken by the sound of laughter from outside, drawing their attention back to the party.
Beomgyu raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like they’re having fun out there."
Sunoo rolled his eyes. "Yeah, fun. If you count guys like Douchebag scaring the hell out of me with a Brandon James mask as fun."
Beomgyu chuckled, shaking his head. "Classic Douchebag. Always knows how to ruin a good time."
Just then, the door to the house swung open again, and Sunghoon stepped in, his eyes immediately locking onto the boy dressed as a Playboy bunny who was mingling by the pool. Sunoo followed Sunghoon’s gaze, his expression hardening.
Sunghoon smirked, clearly pleased with himself as he made his way over to the Playboy bunny, leaning in close and whispering something in his ear. The boy giggled, clearly enjoying the attention.
Sunoo’s jaw clenched. He knew what Sunghoon was trying to do—make him jealous. But two could play that game.
"Watch this," Sunoo muttered to Beomgyu, a mischievous glint in his eye. He scanned the room until his eyes landed on a tall, tan guy in board shorts leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping on a beer. He was attractive, with messy hair and a laid-back vibe that screamed confidence.
Without a second thought, Sunoo stood up and sauntered over to the guy, flashing him his most charming smile. "Hey, mind if I join you?"
The guy looked him up and down, clearly impressed. "Not at all," he said with a grin, stepping aside to make room for Sunoo.
Sunoo leaned against the counter, close enough that their arms brushed. He could feel Sunghoon’s eyes on him from across the room, and it fueled his resolve. He flirted shamelessly with the guy, laughing at his jokes and even brushing a hand across his chest at one point.
It wasn’t long before the guy, nicknamed “Board Shorts” by Sunoo in his mind, was completely enamored, leaning in closer and hanging on Sunoo’s every word.
"You're pretty bold," Board Shorts said with a smirk. "I like that."
Sunoo just smiled, playing along. "I know what I want," he replied, his voice low and teasing.
But as soon as he caught a glimpse of Sunghoon's scowling face, he knew he’d made his point. He gave Board Shorts a playful pat on the shoulder before excusing himself. "I’ve got to go, but maybe I’ll see you later."
Board Shorts looked disappointed but nodded. "Yeah, definitely."
Sunoo made his way back to Beomgyu, feeling satisfied with himself. "That was fun," he said with a smirk, sitting back down on the couch.
Beomgyu laughed, shaking his head. "You’re such a troublemaker."
Sunoo grinned. "Hey, he started it."
The two of them laughed together, the tension from earlier completely forgotten. It felt good to just relax and be in the moment, even if just for a little while.
But the moment was short-lived. Sunoo’s gaze drifted over to the wine rack in the corner, and he realized that his glass was empty. "I’m out of wine," he said, sighing. "I’m going to grab a couple more bottles from the cellar."
"Want me to come with you?" Beomgyu offered, but Sunoo shook his head.
"Nah, I’ll be quick. Besides, someone needs to keep an eye on this party."
Beomgyu nodded. "Alright, but hurry back."
Sunoo gave him a reassuring smile before heading toward the cellar door. As he descended the stairs into the dimly lit cellar, the cool air sent a shiver down his spine. He tried to shake off the uneasy feeling creeping up on him, reminding himself that it was just a wine run, nothing more.
But as he reached the bottom of the stairs and began searching for the bottles, a strange sense of foreboding washed over him. The cellar was too quiet, too still. It was as if the very air around him was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
Sunoo quickly grabbed a couple of bottles and turned to head back upstairs. But before he could take a step, he heard a faint noise—a soft creak, like the sound of a door slowly opening.
He froze, his heart racing as he strained to listen. The cellar was empty, but the sound had definitely come from somewhere nearby.
"Beomgyu?" he called out, his voice trembling slightly.
But there was no response. The only sound was the pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears.
Sunoo took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. It was probably just the house settling, he told himself. Nothing to worry about.
But as he turned back toward the stairs, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t alone. That somewhere in the darkness, someone—or something—was watching him.
======================================================
Tiffany stood in the dimly lit jail cell, her breath steady as she snapped pictures of the gruesome crime scene. She was dressed in her morgue outfit, having just changed into it after a long night of work, but the dark, professional attire suited the grim task at hand. The flash of her camera briefly illuminated the dead officer’s face, his lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, blood dried around the carving in his throat.
"Make sure you get every angle," she instructed one of the officers nearby, her voice firm and devoid of any hint of the exhaustion she felt.
"Yes, ma'am," the officer replied, moving to adjust the lights to help her capture the scene from every possible viewpoint.
After a few more snaps, Tiffany lowered her camera and took a deep breath. The scene was brutal, the kind of thing that would haunt most people’s nightmares, but she’d long since learned to compartmentalize, to do her job with clinical precision. Still, the brutality of it all, the way the killer had taken his time, made her stomach twist in unease.
"Untie him and wheel him out," she ordered, her voice sharp as a scalpel.
The officers moved in to follow her command, carefully cutting the binds that held the officer to the cell bars and transferring his body onto a gurney. Tiffany watched them work, her mind already running through the next steps in her investigation.
As they wheeled the body out, she caught sight of Yeonjun waiting for her in the lobby. She sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be happy about what she had to say. She tucked her camera into her bag, straightened her posture, and walked out to meet him.
Yeonjun’s face was pale, a mixture of worry and fear etched into his features. "Mom," he greeted, his voice tight. "Any new leads?"
Tiffany shook her head slightly. "Not much yet, but we're working on it."
Yeonjun frowned, his brows furrowing as he recalled something. "What about the clues? The killer left something on Gunwook's body when he was kidnapped. Maybe there’s something here, too."
Tiffany paused, considering his words. Yeonjun was right; the killer had a pattern, leaving twisted little mementos as breadcrumbs. She turned back to the officer’s body, which was now being prepped for transport.
"Wait," she said, holding up a hand to stop the officers. She stepped closer to the gurney, her eyes scanning the officer’s body for anything she might have missed in her initial inspection. Her gaze moved to the mouth, and she noticed something off—a slight bulge in the officer’s cheek, like something had been stuffed inside.
Carefully, she reached in, her fingers brushing against something small and metallic. Her heart skipped a beat as she pulled it out, her breath catching in her throat when she saw what it was.
A heart-shaped necklace, tarnished with age but unmistakable in its design. Her fingers trembled slightly as she turned it over, her eyes widening in recognition. This was the necklace Brandon had given her all those years ago, back when they were just kids.
"No..." she whispered, a chill running down her spine.
Yeonjun stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he saw the necklace in her hand. "Mom? What is it?"
Tiffany swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper as she replied, "It’s the necklace... the one Brandon gave me. How could it be here?"
Yeonjun stared at the necklace, his mind racing. "The killer must have known about it. They’re sending a message, something personal."
Yeonjun’s mind raced as he pieced it all together, the clues falling into place like the final pieces of a horrifying puzzle. The necklace, the gruesome scene, the taunts from Ghostface—it all pointed to one place: Brandon James' childhood home.
"We have to go there," Yeonjun said, urgency lacing his voice. "Minho’s being kept at Brandon James' old house. It’s the only place that makes sense."
Tiffany, who had barely had time to process the grim discovery of the necklace, nodded sharply. "I’ll call for backup. We need to get there fast."
Yeonjun watched as his mother quickly relayed the information to the police, her voice calm and authoritative despite the dread that was gnawing at her insides. She had changed again, this time into something more practical—dark jeans and a fitted jacket—ready to face whatever horror awaited them.
As the police convoy sped towards Brandon James' childhood home, sirens blaring in the night, Yeonjun’s heart pounded with a mix of fear and determination. He glanced at his mother, who was driving with steely focus, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel.
"We’re going to find him, Mom," Yeonjun said, trying to reassure himself as much as her. "We’ll get him out of there."
Tiffany didn’t take her eyes off the road. "We will. But stay sharp, Yeonjun. This killer has been ahead of us at every turn. We can’t afford to let our guard down now."
When they arrived at the old, dilapidated house, it was eerily silent except for the rustling of leaves in the wind. The house loomed before them, a dark silhouette against the night sky, its windows like empty, soulless eyes staring back at them.
The police surrounded the perimeter, their guns drawn as they moved cautiously toward the house. Yeonjun and Tiffany, flanked by officers, made their way around the back to the overgrown garden. There, illuminated by the beam of a flashlight, was Sheriff Minho, tied to a large, gnarled tree.
“Minho!” Tiffany called out, rushing forward, her voice trembling with a mixture of hope and fear.
Minho’s head lolled to the side, his eyes half-closed, but he was alive. His breath was shallow, and he barely managed to whisper, "Tiffany… something… doesn’t feel right."
Tiffany quickly began cutting the ropes binding him to the tree, her hands moving with practiced precision. Yeonjun stood close by, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched his mother work.
“We’re getting you out of here,” Tiffany reassured Minho, though there was an edge to her voice as if she, too, could sense that something was terribly wrong.
She undid the rope around his chest, and that’s when everything changed.
The moment the rope loosened, Minho’s body convulsed, and his eyes widened in agony. Tiffany recoiled in horror as she realized what the rope had been holding in place. With a sickening sound, all of Minho’s major organs spilled out from his stomach, sloshing onto the ground in a gruesome, bloody heap.
"No!" Tiffany screamed, stumbling back, her hands covered in blood, her eyes wide with shock.
Yeonjun could only watch in frozen terror as Minho’s life drained away before their eyes, the Sheriff’s final breaths coming out in ragged, painful gasps. It was over in seconds, his body going limp as death claimed him.
Tiffany fell to her knees, her face pale, tears welling in her eyes. "Minho… oh God…"
Yeonjun moved to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder, his own heart heavy with the weight of the loss. "Mom… we have to go. The killer could still be here."
Tiffany nodded numbly, wiping the tears from her eyes and steeling herself. "You’re right," she whispered, though the pain in her voice was palpable. "We have to finish this."
They stood together, the gruesome scene behind them, as the police officers fanned out to search the surrounding area. But deep down, both Yeonjun and Tiffany knew that the killer was long gone, leaving them with nothing but more bloodshed and heartache.
As they walked away from the tree, the night seemed darker, colder, and more unforgiving than ever. The realization that this nightmare was far from over weighed heavily on them, but they knew there was no turning back now.
The finale was coming, and there would be no escaping it.
======================================================
As the ambulance’s flashing lights bathed the scene in a harsh, red glow, Yeonjun and Tiffany stood side by side, watching in silence as Sheriff Minho’s lifeless body was loaded into the back. The weight of what had just happened hung heavily between them, a grim reminder of how twisted the killer's game had become.
Tiffany broke the silence first, her voice barely above a whisper. "He kept Minho alive just so I could try to save him… and fail. It was all part of the plan, to break us down piece by piece."
Yeonjun nodded, his gaze fixed on the spot where Minho had been tied to the tree. "It’s like with Gunwook… how the killer made me feel like his death was my fault. It’s the same sick game. But we can’t let them win, Mom."
Tiffany turned to look at her son, her eyes hardening with resolve. "No, we can’t. This ends tonight."
Just then, Yeonjun’s phone rang, shattering the tense silence. He quickly pulled it from his pocket and saw Jaehyun’s name flashing on the screen.
“Jaehyun, what is it?” Yeonjun asked, urgency creeping into his voice.
“I’ve got it,” Jaehyun said, breathless with excitement. “I finally tracked down the location of the live feed. It’s coming from… Sunoo’s house! Yeonjun, everyone is there!”
The blood drained from Yeonjun’s face as he processed the information. Sunoo’s house was supposed to be the one place where everyone could relax, have fun, and escape the nightmare that had been consuming their lives. But now, it was ground zero.
“We’re on our way,” Yeonjun said, his voice steady despite the storm brewing inside him. He ended the call and turned to Tiffany, who had already started moving toward the car.
“Sunoo’s house,” Yeonjun told her as they got in. “That’s where the live feed is coming from. Ghostface… the killer is there. Everyone is in danger.”
Tiffany’s grip tightened on the steering wheel as she started the engine. “This is it, Yeonjun. The finale. Everything has been leading up to this.”
As the car sped through the dark streets, the tension between them was palpable. The air crackled with anticipation and fear. Yeonjun stared out the window, his mind racing with thoughts of his friends—Sunoo, Beomgyu, everyone—who were completely unaware of the imminent danger.
“We need to be smart about this,” Tiffany said, her eyes focused on the road. “Ghostface will be expecting us. We can’t just walk into a trap.”
Yeonjun nodded, his mind already working on a plan. “We’ll have to approach from different angles, make sure we cover all the exits. If the killer’s at Sunoo’s house, we can’t let them slip away.”
Tiffany glanced at her son, a flicker of pride in her eyes. “You’ve grown so much, Yeonjun. You’re strong. We’ll get through this.”
“We don’t have a choice,” Yeonjun replied, his voice firm. “It’s us or them.”
======================================================
The Halloween party at Sunoo’s house was still in full swing, the music thumping and the crowd buzzing with energy. “Douchebag,” dressed in his obnoxious Brandon James costume, had downed a few too many drinks and was now wandering around, looking for a place to relieve himself. His eyes landed on the back door leading into the house.
“I’ll just sneak in here real quick,” he muttered to himself, stumbling toward the door.
Just as he reached for the handle, Beomgyu appeared out of nowhere, blocking his path. “Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” Beomgyu asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Gotta take a piss, man. Just a quick one, I swear,” “Douchebag” slurred, clearly not in any shape to be arguing.
Beomgyu shook his head, smirking. “Not in there, you’re not. Sunoo will kill you if you mess up the place. There’s a bathroom by the pool house. Go use that instead.”
“Douchebag” grumbled but ultimately shrugged and turned toward the pool house. “Fine, whatever. Don’t want to piss off the host,” he said, chuckling at his own joke as he stumbled away.
Beomgyu watched him go, shaking his head before turning his attention back to the party. The last thing they needed was someone causing trouble inside the house. He figured “Douchebag” would be fine on his own.
A little while later, Playboy bunny boy, who had been flirting with Sunghoon for most of the night, decided he needed to use the bathroom as well. Remembering Beomgyu’s earlier suggestion, he made his way to the pool house, hoping to avoid the long line at the main bathroom.
As he opened the door to the pool house bathroom, the dim light flickered on, revealing a gruesome sight. “Douchebag” was lying on the floor, his throat slashed wide open, blood pooling around him. His eyes were wide with terror, frozen in a final, horrific moment.
Playboy bunny boy’s scream pierced the night, cutting through the music and laughter like a knife. He stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own feet as he bolted out of the pool house, his face pale with shock.
“Everyone, get out! The killer’s here!” he screamed, his voice trembling with fear.
The partygoers froze for a split second, the reality of the situation sinking in. Then, panic erupted. People screamed and pushed past each other, desperate to escape the house and the danger lurking somewhere in the shadows.
Beomgyu, hearing the commotion, pushed through the crowd, trying to make his way to the pool house. His heart pounded in his chest as he saw Playboy bunny boy, still screaming and pointing toward the bathroom.
“What happened?” Beomgyu demanded, grabbing the boy’s shoulders to steady him.
“Douchebag… he’s… he’s dead! The killer… he’s here!” Playboy bunny boy stammered, tears streaming down his face.
Beomgyu’s blood ran cold. The party had just turned into a nightmare, and now, it was a fight for survival.
======================================================
Beomgyu pushed through the chaos in the backyard, desperately scanning for any sign of Sunoo or Sunghoon. The frantic screams and rushing footsteps echoed around him as he moved. The garden was a jumble of discarded party decorations and toppled chairs, the once cheerful atmosphere now tinged with terror.
“Sunoo! Sunghoon!” Beomgyu shouted, his voice barely rising above the cacophony. But his calls were swallowed by the din of the panicked crowd fleeing the house.
Suddenly, he heard a soft, chilling laugh behind him. Beomgyu whirled around to find Ghostface emerging from the shadows, the iconic mask gleaming eerily in the dim light.
“So, you’re still here,” Ghostface said, his voice distorted but unmistakably malevolent. “Trying to play hero, are we?”
Beomgyu’s heart raced, but he forced himself to stand his ground. “Where are Sunoo and Sunghoon? What have you done with them?”
Ghostface’s eyes gleamed with malevolent amusem*nt. “You’re not in a position to be asking questions. But I suppose I can spare a moment for you.”
Before Beomgyu could react, Ghostface lunged at him. They clashed in a brief, fierce struggle. Beomgyu fought back with everything he had, but Ghostface’s speed and strength were overwhelming. The knife flashed dangerously close to Beomgyu’s face as he tried to dodge the lethal blade.
In a moment of brutal efficiency, Ghostface managed to pin Beomgyu against a wall. Beomgyu’s breath came in ragged gasps, his strength waning as he struggled against the masked killer’s iron grip.
“What are you waiting for?” Beomgyu spat out defiantly, his eyes locked onto Ghostface’s mask. “Finish it!”
Ghostface’s head tilted slightly, as if considering the question. Then, with a cold, calculated motion, he raised the knife high above his head. Beomgyu braced himself, the reality of his situation sinking in. The blade descended with horrifying precision, stabbing down into Beomgyu’s shoulder.
A gasp of pain escaped Beomgyu’s lips as he felt the searing agony of the blade piercing his flesh. Ghostface twisted the knife slightly, ensuring maximum pain before pulling it out. The sudden movement caused a fresh wave of blood to spill from the wound, staining Beomgyu’s clothes and the ground beneath him.
“Stay alive long enough to see how this ends,” Ghostface murmured, his voice dripping with menace. He withdrew into the shadows, leaving Beomgyu bleeding and slumped against the wall.
Beomgyu struggled to stay conscious, the world around him starting to blur. The sounds of the party were distant now, replaced by the pounding of his own heartbeat and the rush of adrenaline. He tried to call out for help, but his voice came out as a ragged whisper.
The pain was overwhelming, but Beomgyu knew he had to find a way to get help. He reached for his phone with a shaking hand, trying to dial Sunoo or anyone who could come to his aid. His vision was growing darker, but he clung to the hope that someone would find him before it was too late.
As the night grew darker, the eerie silence of the backyard was punctuated only by the distant sounds of sirens and the fading echoes of the fleeing partygoers. Beomgyu’s strength was waning, but the thought of his friends and the battle against Ghostface kept him holding on, waiting for a miracle.
======================================================
Sunoo emerged from the wine cellar, clutching a bottle of his favorite vintage. He had hoped to enjoy a quiet moment, away from the chaos of the party, but as he stepped into the dimly lit foyer, he was met with an unsettling sight. The house was eerily quiet, the once lively atmosphere now replaced by an unsettling stillness.
“What the hell?” Sunoo muttered, his eyes scanning the empty rooms. The remnants of the party—streamers, half-empty glasses, and discarded plates—were scattered about, but there was no sign of life. The party had disintegrated in what felt like mere minutes.
Suddenly, he heard rustling from outside, followed by a frantic pounding on the front door. Sunoo’s heart raced as he moved cautiously towards the noise. He peered through the peephole and his breath caught in his throat when he saw Jay standing there, his face pale and desperate, his clothes disheveled and stained.
“Sunoo! Open up! Please!” Jay’s voice was strained, filled with an urgency that sent shivers down Sunoo’s spine.
Sunoo hesitated, his mind racing. Jay was supposed to be in jail, and the sight of him here, so desperate and wild, was disconcerting. “Jay, what the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be locked up!”
Jay’s face contorted with a mix of fear and frustration. “You don’t understand! I’m not here to hurt anyone. They’ve set me up. Please, let me in! I need help!”
Sunoo backed away from the door, his nerves on edge. “I don’t know if I can trust you. You should be in jail, Jay. Why should I let you in?”
Jay’s eyes darted around, panic evident in every movement. “They’re coming for me! I need somewhere safe to hide. If you don’t let me in, they’ll find me out here and I—”
Before Jay could finish, he lunged towards the door, trying to force it open. Sunoo’s heart raced as he quickly shoved the bolt into place, locking it tight. Jay’s attempt to break through only intensified his fear.
“Jay, stop! You’re not making this easier!” Sunoo yelled, backing away from the door. He moved to the windows, locking each one securely. The rustling from outside grew louder, and Sunoo could only imagine the chaos that was unfolding.
Jay pounded on the door with renewed desperation. “Sunoo, please! I’m not the killer. You have to believe me. They’re setting me up! You have to help me!”
Sunoo’s mind raced, torn between fear and a lingering sense of loyalty. He knew he couldn’t let Jay in, not with everything that had happened. But Jay’s pleas were impossible to ignore, and the sound of Jay’s desperate knocks and cries made him feel more trapped than ever.
“I can’t just let you in, Jay!” Sunoo shouted, his voice trembling. “Not after everything that’s happened. I need to know you’re not part of this!”
Jay’s cries grew more frantic. “Please, Sunoo! I’m telling the truth! If you don’t let me in, I’ll be killed out here!”
Sunoo’s heart pounded as the lights flickered and went out, plunging the house into darkness. Panic set in as he fumbled for his phone, but before he could turn on the flashlight, the power came back on. His breath caught in his throat when he saw Jay was no longer at the door.
Instead, standing ominously in the foyer, was Ghostface. The mask seemed to glow in the dim light, the eyes hollow and menacing. Sunoo's instincts screamed at him to run. He spun around and darted through the house, his footsteps echoing in the empty halls.
“Don’t come any closer!” Sunoo yelled, his voice trembling. He glanced back to see Ghostface gaining on him, the knife gleaming with deadly intent. In a blind panic, Sunoo burst into the garage, slamming the door behind him. The cool air of the garage did nothing to calm his racing heart.
He spotted the meat freezer in the corner and made a desperate decision. He yanked the door open and scrambled inside, pulling the heavy lid down over him. The darkness inside was suffocating, but it was his only refuge. He huddled in the corner, trying to steady his breathing.
The freezer was cold, but Sunoo's main concern was the sound of footsteps growing nearer. He could hear Ghostface’s muffled voice outside, growing closer and closer.
“Sunoo,” Ghostface called mockingly, his voice distorted through the freezer’s walls. “You really thought you could escape? There’s nowhere to run.”
Sunoo’s heart raced as the footsteps stopped. He heard the faint click of the freezer door being locked from the outside. Panic surged as he realized he was trapped. He moved to the door and tried to force it open, but it was no use. The door was firmly shut, and he could hear the sound of Ghostface’s knife scraping against the metal.
Ghostface’s voice came through the door, sinister and calm. “Time to have some fun.”
Sunoo’s breath came in shallow gasps as the sound of the knife grew closer. He braced himself as Ghostface started jamming the blade through the sides of the freezer. The knife pierced the metal with a harsh screech, and Sunoo felt sharp, searing pain as the blade cut into his side.
He cried out, trying to push away from the blade, but there was nowhere to go. Each slice was precise and calculated, Ghostface clearly enjoying the torment. Sunoo clutched at his wounds, tears streaming down his face as he whimpered in agony.
After what felt like an eternity, the knife withdrew, leaving Sunoo bleeding and shivering. The freezer’s cold was unbearable, but the cruelest part was what Ghostface did next. Sunoo heard the sound of the freezer’s thermostat being adjusted.
“No... please…” Sunoo begged, his voice weak. The temperature inside the freezer began to drop rapidly. The cold seeped into his bones, and he could feel his body growing numb.
Ghostface’s chilling voice came through one last time. “Stay cold, Sunoo. Let’s see how long you can last.”
The freezer’s temperature continued to plummet, and Sunoo’s breaths came slower and slower as he fought against the encroaching numbness. His vision blurred, the pain fading into a distant throb as the cold took over. He could only hope that someone would find him before it was too late.
======================================================
Yeonjun and Jaehyun arrived at Sunoo’s house, the eerie quiet punctuated only by the distant hum of an occasional car. As they approached the front door, Yeonjun noticed something unsettling—a bloody hand-print smeared on the door of Hanbin’s car. He felt a chill run down his spine.
“Is that… Hanbin’s?” Jaehyun asked, eyes wide as he took in the sight of the glasses and tape recorder strewn on the ground, both stained with blood.
Yeonjun nodded grimly. “Yeah. Let’s see if we can find any clues inside.”
They moved cautiously into the house, navigating through the dimly lit rooms. The once lively party area was now abandoned and eerily silent. As they entered the living room, they found Soobin standing by the staircase, his face pale and his expression tense.
“Soobin!” Yeonjun called out, trying to mask his concern. “Where is everyone? What happened here?”
Soobin’s eyes darted nervously. “I don’t know. I came back to find everything in chaos. I tried to help, but… it’s all messed up.”
Jaehyun, ever the skeptic, crossed his arms. “We saw the video. The one with Sohee. It looked pretty bad for you.”
Soobin’s face tightened with a mix of anger and fear. “You think I’m involved in this? After everything that’s happened? Look, I know it looks bad, but I’m not the killer.”
Yeonjun stepped closer, his expression conflicted. “If you’re not the killer, then why are you here? Why do you have a gun?”
Soobin hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a handgun. He held it out to Yeonjun, his voice cracking with emotion. “If you think I’m the killer, then do it. Shoot me. Prove it to yourself.”
Yeonjun’s heart raced as he took the gun from Soobin’s trembling hands. The weight of the weapon felt heavy, both physically and morally. He looked at Jaehyun, who gave him a solemn nod of encouragement.
“Do you really think it’s me?” Soobin asked, his eyes pleading. “Because if you do, then just pull the trigger. I won’t stop you.”
Yeonjun stared at the gun, then at Soobin’s face. The trust that had once bound them was fraying at the edges, and he struggled to reconcile the image of his friend with the damning evidence.
“I don’t want to believe it,” Yeonjun said, his voice filled with anguish. “But after everything we’ve seen, I don’t know what to think anymore.”
Jaehyun stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder. “We need to figure out what’s really going on. Let’s search the house for more clues before we make any decisions.”
Yeonjun nodded reluctantly, lowering the gun. “Alright. Let’s find out what happened here and put an end to this.”
Soobin, relieved yet still on edge, gestured for them to follow him as they continued their search. The tension between the friends was palpable, each step filled with uncertainty and fear of what they might uncover next.
======================================================
Yeonjun’s heart sank as he faced Soobin. The weight of the truth felt unbearable. “Soobin… Ghostface killed Sheriff Minho.”
Soobin’s reaction was shockingly subdued. He stared blankly for a moment before his eyes hardened with resolve. “Then let’s end this. I’m not just standing around while this killer roams free.”
Relief mixed with apprehension washed over Yeonjun. “Alright. We need to find out what’s going on. Let’s stick together.”
As they moved through the house, the atmosphere grew tense. They found Sunghoon stumbling through the living room, his face pale and eyes wide with fear.
“Sunghoon!” Yeonjun called out, rushing to his side. “What happened? Are you alright?”
Sunghoon shook his head, panic evident in his voice. “I heard something outside, but then people started running. I… I don’t know where everyone went. I’ve been trying to find Sunoo.”
Before they could continue, a faint moan reached their ears. The group turned toward the sound, and their hearts sank when they saw Beomgyu emerging from a shadowed hallway, bleeding from his shoulder.
“Beomgyu!” Jaehyun rushed over, helping him to a nearby couch. “What happened?”
Beomgyu winced in pain. “Ghostface. He attacked me… I couldn’t stop him. I don’t know where Sunoo is. He was here, but—”
A loud banging noise suddenly echoed from the garage. The group exchanged worried glances and sprinted toward the sound. Bursting into the garage, they saw the large meat freezer with the lid slightly ajar. Ghostface’s work had left a grim mark on the scene.
Yeonjun yanked open the freezer with all his strength, and a rush of cold air poured out. Inside, Sunoo lay shivering, his face pale and his clothes smeared with blood.
“Sunoo!” Yeonjun shouted, pulling him out of the freezer. “Are you okay? We need to get you warm.”
Sunoo, shaking but relieved to be free, muttered with a weak smile, “I really hate that freezer. It’s not the first time I’ve been stuck in one.”
Jaehyun wrapped Sunoo in a jacket, his eyes narrowing in determination. “We have to keep moving. Ghostface is still out there, and we need to end this before anyone else gets hurt.”
Sunoo nodded, still catching his breath. “I’ll be okay. Let’s find the bastard and put an end to this nightmare.”
As the group regrouped, the urgency of their situation fueled their resolve. They had survived the chaos of the party and the horrors of the night, but the final showdown with Ghostface was imminent. With their numbers dwindling and their hope running thin, they knew they had to confront the killer head-on.
Yeonjun glanced at Soobin, Sunghoon, Jaehyun, and the injured Beomgyu. “We need to stick together. This ends tonight.”
======================================================
Yeonjun's phone buzzed with an incoming call, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw the caller ID: Ghostface. He hesitated but answered, his voice trembling slightly. “What do you want?”
A chilling, distorted voice came through the line. “Come to the dock, Yeonjun. If you don’t, your mother will pay the price.”
Yeonjun’s blood ran cold. “My mom?”
“Don’t be late,” Ghostface said before hanging up.
Panic surged through Yeonjun as he turned to the others. “I have to go. Ghostface has my mom. You all stay here and try to find a way to help. I’ll handle this.”
With grim determination, Yeonjun raced to the dock. The night was eerily quiet as he approached, the only sound being the gentle lapping of the water against the pier. At the end of the dock, he spotted his mother, Tiffany, bound to a chair but looking surprisingly composed.
“Mom!” Yeonjun shouted as he ran toward her. He fumbled with the ropes, trying to free her.
Tiffany looked up, her eyes wide with fear. “Yeonjun, stop! Ghostface is here.”
Yeonjun’s hands trembled as he tried to untie the knots. “Where is he? Where’s Ghostface?”
“Other end of the dock,” Tiffany whispered urgently. “Be careful.”
Yeonjun glanced up, his eyes scanning the darkened end of the dock. The sound of footsteps approached, and Yeonjun braced himself. The shadowy figure of Ghostface emerged, moving deliberately toward them.
Ghostface stopped a few feet away, his knife glinting in the moonlight. The killer’s presence was menacing as he slowly removed the mask. Yeonjun’s heart pounded in his chest as the face underneath was revealed.
The mask fell away, and the identity of the killer was exposed. It was Sung Hanbin.
Yeonjun’s eyes widened in shock. “Hanbin? You?”
Hanbin’s expression was cold and detached as he looked at Yeonjun. “Surprised? I had to make sure all the loose ends were tied up. Too many people were getting in my way.”
Yeonjun’s mind raced, trying to comprehend the betrayal. “But why? Why all this? Sohee, Taehyun, Woonhak, Gunwook… Sheriff Minho… and ‘douchebag.’ They were all victims. Why?”
Hanbin’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “You never really understood, did you? It’s not just about revenge or chaos. It’s about control. I needed to eliminate anyone who could expose me. And now, it’s your turn.”
Yeonjun’s heart pounded in his chest as Hanbin’s true identity was revealed. The chilling realization that his old friend was behind the mask sent a shiver down his spine. Hanbin took a step closer, his eyes gleaming with a mix of malice and satisfaction.
“Hey, bro,” Hanbin said, his voice dripping with a twisted amusem*nt. “Surprised to see me?”
Yeonjun’s jaw dropped in shock. “Hanbin? You’re… you’re Brandon James’s son?”
Hanbin nodded, his smile widening. “That’s right. Funny, isn’t it? No one suspected the skinny guy could be the killer. It’s 2015, after all. People are capable of so much more these days.”
Yeonjun’s mind raced as he tried to make sense of it all. “But why? Why go through all of this? You’re the one who’s been behind everything?”
“Oh, come on, Yeonjun,” Hanbin said, his tone almost playful. “You really need to ask? It’s simple. Revenge.”
“Revenge?” Yeonjun echoed, his voice trembling. “Revenge for what?”
Hanbin’s face hardened as he continued. “Tiffany got Brandon killed. She was the one who destroyed his life. And me? I was the one she gave up for adoption. While you got to live this perfect life with her, I was tossed aside like trash. She spent the years painting Brandon as a psycho, making him out to be the monster while she lived in her little fantasy world.”
Yeonjun’s eyes widened with horror and disbelief. “So all of this... the killings, the terror… it was all to make her pay?”
Hanbin’s gaze was cold and unyielding. “Exactly. Watching you in pain, seeing your friends die, watching everyone’s dirty secrets come out—it was all a part of it. The ones left alive? They exposed their own guilt and mistrust. It was almost poetic.”
Yeonjun’s thoughts raced, trying to find a way out of the situation. “But what about Minho? And everyone else? You didn’t have to kill them.”
Hanbin shrugged, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. “Collateral damage. They were in my way. And besides, it was all part of the plan. I wanted you to feel the same anguish I’ve felt all these years. To see you suffer as I have.”
Yeonjun’s hands clenched into fists. “This has to end, Hanbin. I’m not going to let you get away with this.”
Hanbin’s smile never faltered as he raised his knife. “Let’s see if you can stop me, Yeonjun. The show’s almost over, and it’s your turn to take center stage.”
Hanbin’s knife glinted in the moonlight as he took a menacing step closer to Yeonjun, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous mix of determination and madness.
“So, what’s next?” Yeonjun demanded, his voice strained but resolute. “You’ve revealed your plan. What do you want now?”
Hanbin’s grin widened, revealing a chilling sense of satisfaction. “My goal? It’s quite simple, really. I need to finish what I started. I’ve got a few more loose ends to tie up.”
Yeonjun’s heart raced as he tried to anticipate Hanbin’s next move. “What do you mean? What are you planning?”
Hanbin chuckled darkly. “First, I need to kill the last survivor boy which you. And also the one who’s been trailing behind all this time. I’ve got a special plan for him.”
Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed in fear. “You mean Sunoo? Why him?”
“Ah, Sunoo,” Hanbin said, his voice dripping with malice. “He’s been too close to figuring things out. He’s seen too much. It’s only fitting that he becomes part of the grand finale.”
“And then?” Yeonjun asked, his voice trembling. “What about Jay?”
Hanbin’s smile turned grim. “Jay’s next on my list. I’ll make sure he’s the one who takes the fall for all these murders. The perfect scapegoat.”
Yeonjun’s breath caught in his throat. “You’re going to frame Jay? But how? He’s locked up.”
“That’s where my final act comes into play,” Hanbin said, his eyes gleaming with a manic intensity. “I’ll set things up so that Jay looks like the killer. I’ll make sure the evidence points straight to him. And once he’s behind bars, I’ll take the title as the soul survivor. The one who stopped the bloodbath.”
Yeonjun’s mind raced, trying to find a way to stop Hanbin. “You’re insane. You can’t get away with this.”
Hanbin’s laugh was cold and echoing in the night. “Oh, but I can, Yeonjun. And I will. You see, I’ve planned every detail. Every move, every twist. I’ve orchestrated this entire show. And in the end, I’ll be the one left standing.”
======================================================
The moon cast a pale light over the dock as the confrontation between Yeonjun and Hanbin reached its peak. The tension in the air was thick, palpable, as Hanbin’s knife glinted dangerously in the dim light.
Yeonjun, exhausted, faced off against Hanbin with grim determination. “It’s over, Hanbin. You’ve lost.”
Hanbin’s eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction. “Oh, Yeonjun, you still don’t get it, do you? This is just the beginning.”
Without warning, Hanbin lunged at Yeonjun, slashing his knife across his stomach. Yeonjun gasped, stumbling backward as pain surged through him.
Tiffany, bound to the chair and helpless, watched in horror as the scene unfolded. Her desperation to save her son gave her the strength to try and intervene, but Hanbin’s wrath was unrelenting. She tried to reach for the knife, but Hanbin was too fast. He turned, his blade flashing as he stabbed her in the chest. Tiffany’s scream echoed across the dock as she fell, her eyes filled with a mix of shock and sorrow.
Hanbin’s laughter was a chilling soundtrack to the chaos. “This is what it feels like, Yeonjun. This is what betrayal tastes like.”
Yeonjun, struggling against the pain and his weakening limbs, tried to fight back but was overpowered by Hanbin’s relentless assault. Hanbin’s kicks and blows were precise and merciless, a testament to his twisted resolve.
Just as Hanbin prepared to deliver the final blow to Yeonjun, a loud gunshot rang out. Hanbin’s head jerked violently, and he staggered backward, his expression one of stunned disbelief. Blood spattered onto the dock as he fell, crashing into the dark water below.
Beomgyu stood at the edge of the dock, the smoke still curling from his gun. His face was a mask of grim determination. “You’re not finishing him off, Hanbin. Not on my watch.”
Hanbin’s body floated on the surface of the lake, slowly sinking beneath the dark waters, much like the tragic end of Brandon James years before. The death of Hanbin marked a cruel symmetry, bringing the family’s tragic history full circle.
Yeonjun, barely able to stand, watched as Hanbin’s body disappeared beneath the surface. His breath was ragged, his vision blurred with pain and exhaustion.
As the first light of dawn began to break through the night, the dock stood silent, the echoes of the night’s violence slowly fading away. The fight was over, but the scars of the night would remain etched in the hearts of those who survived.
Beomgyu helped Yeonjun and Tiffany away from the dock, and the scene of carnage began to be swarmed by authorities and paramedics. The final chapter of this bloody saga had been written, but the story of its survivors was just beginning.
======================================================
The first light of morning filtered through the grimy windows of the hospital, casting a gentle glow over the emergency room. Tiffany was admitted under heavy sedation, her condition stable but critical. The doctors were doing everything they could to save her, but the damage had been severe.
In the lobby, Yeonjun sat in a wheelchair, wrapped in a blanket and looking more exhausted than he had ever been. Beomgyu, still bandaged from his own injuries, sat beside him. The two shared a quiet, contemplative moment.
“You really came through for me last night,” Yeonjun said, his voice hoarse. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up.”
Beomgyu offered a faint smile. “We look out for each other. It’s what friends do.”
Across town, the news had broken. Reports flashed on screens everywhere, revealing the truth about the murderer. Hanbin, the secret son of Tiffany and Brandon James, had been the one behind the gruesome murders. The story captivated the nation, a tragic tale of betrayal, revenge, and family secrets.
Jaehyun, now in charge of Hanbin’s podcast and radio show, faced the mic with a new sense of purpose. “It’s strange, taking over like this,” he said into the camera. “But if there’s anything we can learn from this mess, it’s to always look deeper. People aren’t always what they seem.”
The music that had once been a backdrop to Hanbin’s twisted plans now became a source of solace and healing for the community. Jaehyun used the platform to highlight stories of resilience and recovery, helping to guide his listeners through the aftermath.
Sunoo and Sunghoon’s relationship took a positive turn after the chaos. They found comfort in each other, their bond deepening through shared experiences and support. At a cozy café, Sunoo leaned in close to Sunghoon, a genuine smile on his face.
“I didn’t think I’d find someone who understands me as well as you do,” Sunoo said, his eyes warm. “I’m glad we’re in this together.”
Sunghoon reached out and took Sunoo’s hand. “Me too. We’ve been through a lot, but we’re stronger for it.”
Meanwhile, Yeonjun and Soobin worked to rebuild their relationship, finding solace in each other’s company. The Halloween dance had been a painful reminder of their mistrust, but it also marked a turning point. As they sat together in Yeonjun’s living room, watching the morning news, Soobin reached for Yeonjun’s hand.
“I know things got really messed up between us,” Soobin began, his voice soft. “But I want to try again, if you’re willing.”
Yeonjun looked at him with a mixture of relief and hope. “I am. I’ve missed us. I just hope we can make it through this and move forward.”
They shared a tender kiss, their renewed commitment evident in their eyes. The journey ahead would be challenging, but they were determined to face it together.
As the world began to heal and move on from the horrors of the past few weeks, the survivors worked towards their own forms of recovery. The community, forever marked by the events, found strength in their unity and in the support they offered one another. The scars would remain, but the hope for a better future glimmered on the horizon.
======================================================
In the quiet of his apartment, Beomgyu sat alone at his kitchen table, a single lamp casting a warm glow over the scattered papers before him. The letters, all written in Hanbin’s distinct scrawl, lay open, their contents revealing a disturbing narrative of implied involvement in the recent murders. The pages detailed plans and observations that hinted at Beomgyu’s complicity, though he knew better than to take them at face value.
With a deep breath, Beomgyu gathered the letters into a pile. His hands trembled slightly as he reached for a matchbook from a nearby drawer. The reality of what he was about to do weighed heavily on him. He understood the necessity of keeping these letters hidden to protect his own future and to close this dark chapter of his life.
As the flame caught the edge of the first letter, Beomgyu watched with a mix of sorrow and relief as it ignited. The fire quickly spread, the letters curling and blackening as they were consumed by the flames. He placed them carefully into the fireplace, the crackle of burning paper mingling with the faint sound of his breathing.
A few moments later, the last of the letters had turned to ash. Beomgyu stared into the fireplace, the smoldering remains a stark reminder of the past he wished to leave behind.
The sound of a knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts. He opened it to find Jaehyun standing there, a concerned look on his face.
“Hey, Beomgyu,” Jaehyun said, stepping inside. “I wanted to check in. How are you holding up?”
Beomgyu offered a weary smile. “I’m managing. Just dealing with some old... memories.”
Jaehyun’s eyes flickered to the fireplace, the remnants of the fire still visible through the glass doors. “I see. Anything you want to talk about?”
Beomgyu shook his head, his expression firm. “No, not right now. I think I need to focus on moving forward. It’s been a rough few weeks.”
Jaehyun nodded, respecting Beomgyu’s need for space. “Alright. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
As Jaehyun left, Beomgyu turned his attention back to the fireplace. The letters were gone, but the weight of their contents lingered. He had burned the evidence of his unwitting entanglement with Hanbin, a necessary step to preserve his own redemption and to cover up any perceived involvement.
Notes:
Hi everyone! I would like to let you guys know, with this chapter, this is the ending of the 1st part of the series. I might take some break for a few days, and continue to ramp up with the 2nd part of the franchise. I have lots of ideas in my mind, and I might start to plan out in writing a story based on the "Scream" movies. Hope that you guys enjoy!
Chapter 11: I Know What You Did Last Summer
Chapter Text
Lena pushed open the front door of her small, cozy home, sighing as she stepped inside. The night had been a disaster—one of those dates where everything went wrong, from awkward silences to a heated argument over dessert. She tossed her purse onto the hallway table and kicked off her shoes, grateful to be home where she could unwind in peace.
“Could this night get any worse?” she muttered to herself, running a hand through her hair. Her eyes scanned the living room, searching for the familiar sight of her cat, Butterscotch. Usually, he was right there to greet her, rubbing against her legs and purring loudly. But tonight, the room was eerily quiet.
“Butterscotch?” Lena called out, moving deeper into the house. No response. The silence only added to her growing unease.
She wandered through the house, checking all of Butterscotch’s favorite spots—the couch, the bed, even the laundry basket—but he was nowhere to be found. Finally, a soft noise from above caught her attention. It was a faint rustling, almost like the sound of paws on old wooden floorboards.
“The attic?” Lena murmured, confused. Butterscotch had never managed to get up there before. Curious and a bit worried, she made her way to the narrow staircase that led to the attic.
The stairs creaked under her weight as she climbed, the dim light from the single bulb above casting long shadows on the walls. When she reached the top, she found the attic door slightly ajar. Pushing it open, Lena peeked inside and spotted Butterscotch sitting calmly in the center of the dusty room, his bright eyes fixed on her.
“What are you doing up here, silly cat?” Lena asked with a soft laugh, relieved to have found him. She scooped Butterscotch into her arms, nuzzling her face into his soft fur. “You gave me quite the scare.”
Butterscotch purred contentedly, seemingly unaware of the strange circ*mstances that had led him to the attic in the first place.
As Lena descended the stairs, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She shifted Butterscotch to one arm and pulled out the phone, seeing that her friend Becca was calling. With a shrug, she answered, cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder.
“Hey, Becca,” Lena said, heading back down to the living room. “Sorry I missed your call earlier. You would not believe the night I’ve had.”
“Lena, hey,” Becca’s voice came through, sounding oddly detached. “I was just calling to…check in on you.”
Lena frowned slightly, sensing something off in Becca’s tone. “Thanks, but I’m fine. Just had a really bad date. You know, the usual.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about things,” Becca continued, her voice cold now. “About the way you’ve been talking to me lately. It’s really been bothering me.”
Lena’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean? Becca, if I said something—”
Suddenly, there was a loud thud behind her. Lena whipped around, dropping the phone in shock as a figure, clad in dark clothing, dropped down from the ceiling with chilling silence. The figure moved with terrifying speed, and before Lena could react, a glint of steel caught her eye.
The knife plunged into her side with a sickening force. Pain exploded through her body as she gasped, her vision blurring with the shock. She tried to scream, but the sound caught in her throat as she crumpled to the floor, blood seeping into the carpet beneath her.
The last thing Lena saw before the world faded to black was Becca’s face, twisted in an expression of cold, unfeeling rage. “You always looked down on me, Lena. Called me names behind my back. I’m sick of it. Now you can take a fall for once.”
With a brutal push, Becca shoved Lena’s bleeding, weakened body toward the open window. Lena’s scream echoed in the night as she tumbled out, the wind rushing past her as she plummeted to the ground below.
The impact was swift and final. Lena’s lifeless body lay crumpled on the pavement, the dark night swallowing the scene in silence.
Inside the house, Becca wiped the blood from her hands, her breathing calm and steady. She turned away from the window, leaving Butterscotch to wander alone in the house as she quietly made her way out the door, disappearing into the shadows.
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The dim glow of the movie theater screen cast eerie shadows across the faces of the audience, who were completely engrossed in the latest slasher film starring Lena and Becca. The tension in the air was palpable as the scene intensified, the killer’s footsteps echoing through the darkened halls of a fictional high school. Just as the murderer leapt from the shadows, knife raised, the audience collectively jumped, screams mingling with laughter as popcorn flew into the air. A few people cursed under their breath, brushing buttery kernels off their laps and trying to calm their racing hearts.
In the projection booth, Beomgyu couldn’t help but smirk at the audience’s reaction. He’d seen this movie a dozen times, but it never got old watching people get so freaked out. Working at the theater had its perks, especially when it meant getting to watch horror flicks on his breaks.
He leaned back in his seat, munching on a handful of popcorn. The film’s final girl was just about to make her daring escape when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Beomgyu groaned, reluctantly pulling it out to check the message. The screen lit up with a text from an unknown number.
Unknown: You excited for the party tonight?
Beomgyu frowned, puzzled. He hadn’t told anyone about the party. He typed out a quick reply.
Beomgyu: Who is this?
A few seconds later, another message popped up.
Unknown: Come on, partner. You know who I am.
The word *partner* sent a chill down his spine. It was a term he hadn’t heard since the last time… since Hanbin. His heart began to race as he stared at the screen, memories of that awful night flooding back.
Another buzz.
Unknown: Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of fun tonight.
Beomgyu’s hand shook as he tried to process the situation. Was someone messing with him? How could they know about the party? And *partner*—was this some kind of sick joke?
Before his panic could escalate, his phone rang, making him jump. The caller ID showed Jaehyun’s name, and Beomgyu quickly answered, his voice tense.
“Jaehyun,” Beomgyu said, trying to keep his voice steady.
“Hey, Beomgyu!” Jaehyun’s cheerful voice came through the line. “Just wanted to check in. You good? You sound kind of… off.”
Beomgyu took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just, uh, got a weird text, that’s all.”
Jaehyun laughed lightly. “Probably some prankster. Don’t let it get to you. Hey, I was thinking—how about I pick you up after your shift? We can head to the party together.”
The sound of Jaehyun’s voice helped ease Beomgyu’s nerves. He forced a smile, even though Jaehyun couldn’t see it. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll be done here in about an hour.”
“Perfect,” Jaehyun replied. “I’ll be outside waiting for you. And hey, don’t let those prank texts freak you out. We’re gonna have a good time tonight.”
“Yeah,” Beomgyu said, his voice firmer now. “See you soon.”
As he hung up, Beomgyu felt a bit more at ease, but the unsettling texts still lingered in the back of his mind. He glanced back at the screen, where the final girl was just about to confront the killer. For a brief moment, he couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight, he might be stepping into a horror movie of his own.
======================================================
Beomgyu moved through the dimly lit theater, the remnants of popcorn and crumpled soda cups crunching under his feet as he tidied up the aisles. The credits were rolling on the screen, the once-packed theater now nearly empty, save for a few stragglers lingering behind. His thoughts were still on the unsettling texts from earlier, but he tried to push them aside. He had a party to get to, and Jaehyun would be waiting outside any minute.
As he gathered the last of the trash, Beomgyu noticed someone standing in the shadows near the exit. A girl, probably in her late teens, was watching him with wide eyes. She stepped forward, her excitement barely contained as she approached.
"You're… you're Beomgyu, right?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. "The guy who… you know, saved everyone?"
Beomgyu paused, taken aback. It wasn’t every day someone recognized him, especially not in a positive light. Most people didn’t know how to react to him—either they avoided him altogether or stared at him like he was some kind of freak. But this girl looked at him like he was a hero.
“Uh, yeah,” Beomgyu replied, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “That’s me.”
Her face lit up, and she practically bounced on her toes. “I can’t believe I’m meeting you! You’re like… a legend around here. I mean, you put a bullet in Hanbin’s head! That’s insane.”
Beomgyu forced a smile, though the mention of Hanbin sent a shiver down his spine. “Yeah, well, someone had to stop him.”
The girl nodded eagerly. “I bet that was intense. You must’ve been so scared. But you did it! You saved everyone.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that. In truth, he still wasn’t sure how he felt about what happened that night. Relief, guilt, anger—it all swirled together, a mess of emotions he hadn’t yet untangled.
“Can I, um, get a picture with you?” she asked, holding up her phone. “I know you probably get this a lot, but it would mean so much to me.”
Beomgyu hesitated, then nodded. “Sure, why not.”
The girl beamed, quickly positioning herself beside him. As she held up her phone to snap the photo, Beomgyu caught a glimpse of something in the background—just over his shoulder, in the dim reflection of the theater screen. It was a figure, dressed in black, with a familiar mask covering their face.
His heart skipped a beat, but he quickly brushed it off. Probably just some idiot pulling a prank, trying to freak him out. After all, it was a theater playing a slasher movie. People did that kind of thing all the time.
The camera clicked, and the girl checked the photo with a grin. “Thank you so much! You’re amazing, really.”
Beomgyu managed a weak smile. “No problem. Glad you enjoyed the movie.”
As she walked away, still buzzing with excitement, Beomgyu glanced back toward where he’d seen the figure. But there was nothing there—just the empty theater, now bathed in the flickering light of the credits.
He shook his head, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that had settled in his chest. Just a prank, he told himself. Just someone messing around. He finished cleaning up and headed for the exit, his thoughts already drifting to the party ahead. But the image of that masked figure lingered in the back of his mind, refusing to be ignored.
======================================================
Beomgyu patted his pockets for the third time, a frown deepening on his face as he searched for his keys. He could have sworn he’d left them on the counter, but now they were nowhere to be found. The theater was eerily quiet, the last of the audience long gone, and the only sound was the faint hum of the air conditioning. The girl who had asked for a photo was waiting by the door, her earlier excitement dimming into concern as she watched him struggle.
“Sorry about this,” Beomgyu said, trying to keep his tone light. “Looks like I’m gonna have to let you out through another exit. This way.”
“No problem,” she replied, though her voice wavered slightly. “I’m just glad I ran into you.”
Beomgyu led her through the darkened corridor, the dim emergency lights casting long shadows on the walls. As they approached the side exit, the lights suddenly flickered and went out, plunging the entire theater into darkness. Beomgyu’s breath caught in his throat.
“Hey, stay close,” he called to the girl, his voice echoing in the emptiness. But she didn’t respond. Instead, he heard the sound of hurried footsteps and then nothing. “Hello?”
Beomgyu squinted into the darkness, trying to see where she’d gone. He rounded the corner, only to be met with the dim glow of the projector room coming to life. The screen in the theater flickered, casting a ghostly light down the hallway.
“What the hell…?” Beomgyu muttered under his breath. He moved cautiously toward the theater, every instinct telling him to turn around and leave, but curiosity—or perhaps denial—pushed him forward.
As he stepped into the theater, the screen lit up with static before slowly revealing an image: a masked figure standing in the very same hallway he had just walked through. The figure turned, as if sensing Beomgyu’s presence, and slowly tilted its head to the side. Beomgyu’s heart pounded in his chest.
“Alright, enough with the jokes,” he called out, trying to sound braver than he felt. “Come on out.”
The figure on the screen remained still, but then the camera panned down to reveal a glint of metal in its hand—a knife, dripping with fresh blood. Beomgyu’s stomach twisted in fear as the reality of the situation sank in. This wasn’t a prank.
He spun around, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps as he bolted for the exit. But before he could reach the door, he collided with something—no, someone—solid. He staggered back, barely catching himself before he fell.
It was the girl. Her eyes were wide with terror, and she barely had time to whisper, “He’s here—” before a dark figure emerged from the shadows behind her. The same masked figure from the screen.
“No!” Beomgyu shouted, but it was too late. The killer moved with terrifying speed, plunging the knife into her back with a sickening thud. Her eyes widened in shock, her mouth opening in a silent scream as she crumpled to the floor.
Beomgyu’s mind raced, panic seizing him as he watched the killer pull the knife out and turn their attention to him. The realization hit him like a truck—he was next.
He didn’t wait to find out what would happen if he stayed. Beomgyu turned and sprinted back the way he came, his footsteps echoing in the empty theater as he desperately searched for a way out. The walls seemed to close in around him, the darkness pressing down as he reached for the door.
Just as he grabbed the handle, he felt a cold presence behind him. He yanked the door open and stumbled into the lobby, slamming it shut behind him. He could hear the killer’s footsteps approaching, relentless and steady.
Beomgyu didn’t stop to catch his breath. He had to get out of there—before the killer caught up to him.
======================================================
Jaehyun burst through the doors of the theater, his heart pounding in his chest as he scanned the darkened lobby for any sign of Beomgyu. The eerie silence that greeted him only fueled his anxiety. Where was he? He had called just moments ago, sounding tense, but nothing had prepared Jaehyun for the scene that awaited him.
At the far end of the lobby, he spotted movement—a figure clad in black, with a familiar mask pulled over their face. Jaehyun’s blood ran cold as he recognized the Brandon James mask, a camera strapped to the figure's chest, its red light blinking ominously. Beomgyu stood just a few feet away, cornered, eyes wide with terror as the masked figure raised a knife, preparing to strike.
“Beomgyu!” Jaehyun shouted, his voice cracking with panic. But Beomgyu didn’t need any more encouragement. In a flash of desperation, he turned and grabbed the nearest thing—a heavy prop case, the glass shattering as he slammed it to the ground. His hands moved frantically, searching through the debris until they closed around a cold metal object—a screwdriver.
Without a second thought, Beomgyu lunged forward, plunging the screwdriver into the killer’s side. The figure let out a strangled gasp, the knife clattering to the floor as they doubled over, clutching their wound. Beomgyu stumbled back, breathing heavily, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.
For a moment, everything was still. The killer stood frozen, the mask slipping slightly to reveal a pair of wide, shocked eyes. Then, as if in slow motion, the figure reached up and pulled off the mask, revealing a teenage boy underneath, his face twisted in pain and disbelief.
“Ow! What the hell, dude?” the boy groaned, his voice breaking the heavy silence. He looked down at the screwdriver sticking out of his side, then back at Beomgyu, horror dawning on his face. “You actually stabbed me!”
Beomgyu’s breath hitched, confusion and horror crashing over him as he tried to process what he was seeing. “Wait… what?”
Before he could make sense of it, the girl—the same one who had asked for a photo earlier—staggered to her feet, her face pale as she glanced down at the blood-soaked clothes she was wearing. “Oh my god… I thought it was fake blood!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling as she stared at Beomgyu with wide eyes. “You stabbed him for real!”
Jaehyun finally reached Beomgyu’s side, his own confusion mirrored on his face as he looked between the injured boy, the girl, and the broken prop case. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded.
The boy groaned again, wincing as he carefully pulled the screwdriver out of his side. “It was supposed to be a prank! A dumb prank for my YouTube channel. We were just trying to scare you, man!”
Beomgyu’s hands shook as he processed the boy’s words, his mind reeling. “You… you were pranking me? You were pretending to be the killer?”
“Yeah!” the girl said, her voice still quivering. “It was all fake—the mask, the camera… everything! We didn’t mean to actually hurt anyone!”
Beomgyu’s heart dropped as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. This whole thing—the terrifying chase, the blood, the attack—had been nothing more than an elaborate joke. And he had fallen for it, reacting in the only way he knew how.
“I didn’t know…” Beomgyu whispered, his voice barely audible. “I thought you were really going to kill me…”
The boy winced as he stood up straighter, still clutching his side. “Well, you almost killed me, dude! Who stabs someone with a screwdriver?”
Jaehyun, still in shock, shook his head in disbelief. “Are you guys insane? You can’t just mess with people like that! You could’ve gotten seriously hurt—or worse.”
The girl bit her lip, looking sheepish as she finally realized the gravity of the situation. “We didn’t think it would go this far… we just wanted to scare you. We didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt.”
Beomgyu stared at the two of them, his emotions a tangled mess of anger, relief, and residual fear. “Well, you succeeded,” he said quietly. “You scared me. But you also messed up big time.”
The boy groaned again, sitting down on the floor as he tried to steady his breathing. “Yeah, no kidding. I think I’m gonna need stitches…”
Jaehyun glanced at Beomgyu, his expression softening as he placed a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said gently. “This place has caused enough trouble for one night.”
Beomgyu nodded slowly, his mind still reeling from the events of the night. As they turned to leave, he couldn’t help but steal one last glance at the two pranksters, still trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. This was one prank he wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon.
======================================================
Beomgyu couldn’t shake the lingering tremors in his hands as he and Jaehyun walked away from the theater. The night air was cool, but it did little to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He replayed the events in his mind, trying to make sense of how a prank had spiraled so wildly out of control. The dull ache in his shoulder, where the strain of the encounter still lingered, served as a constant reminder of just how close things had come to disaster.
“Hey,” Jaehyun said softly, breaking through Beomgyu’s thoughts. “You okay? I mean, that was… intense.”
Beomgyu nodded slowly, still processing. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just… rattled, I guess. I can’t believe they actually thought that was a good idea.”
“I know,” Jaehyun agreed, his brow furrowing. “But at least it’s over now. And the camera footage proves you were just defending yourself.”
Beomgyu let out a shaky breath, feeling a small sense of relief. The thought of that camera had haunted him for a brief moment, but now it was his saving grace. The footage would show that he had acted in self-defense, nothing more.
“You’re right,” Beomgyu said, trying to push away the lingering unease. “It could have been a lot worse.”
They walked in silence for a few more minutes, the streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement. Despite everything, Jaehyun’s calm presence was comforting, a reminder that he wasn’t alone in this mess. As they approached the parking lot where Jaehyun’s car was parked, Beomgyu glanced over at him.
“Do you still want to go to the party?” Beomgyu asked, his voice hesitant. “I mean, after all that…”
Jaehyun gave him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, let’s go. We could use a distraction after everything that happened. And besides, I’m not letting you out of my sight for the rest of the night.”
Beomgyu chuckled softly, appreciating the sentiment. “Thanks, Jaehyun. I’m glad you’re here.”
Just as they reached the car, they noticed a figure standing near the entrance of the parking lot. A tall man with sharp features and a stern expression. His uniform, with the shiny badge on his chest, left no doubt that he was law enforcement.
“That must be the new sheriff,” Jaehyun murmured, as they approached.
As they drew closer, the man noticed them and stepped forward, offering a polite nod. “Evening, gentlemen. You two must be Beomgyu and Jaehyun, right?”
Beomgyu exchanged a wary glance with Jaehyun before nodding. “Yeah, that’s us. You must be the new sheriff?”
The man smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sheriff Kim Jiwoong,” he introduced himself. “I was just about to head over to the theater to check on the situation, but it looks like you’re both in one piece.”
Beomgyu couldn’t help but notice the way the sheriff’s gaze lingered on him, as if assessing him. It was a look he was all too familiar with—one that questioned, even if it didn’t outright accuse.
“Yeah, we’re fine,” Beomgyu replied, trying to sound casual. “Just a misunderstanding, I guess.”
Sheriff Jiwoong nodded, though his expression remained serious. “Glad to hear it. I’ve heard quite a bit about Lakewood since I transferred here. But I should mention—I’m not exactly new to the area. I grew up here before moving away, so it’s more of a homecoming for me.”
Jaehyun raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? That’s interesting. I guess it’s good to have someone who knows the place well.”
“Indeed,” Jiwoong replied. “Lakewood has a history… a certain reputation. But I’m here to make sure things stay under control.”
Beomgyu shifted uncomfortably under the sheriff’s scrutinizing gaze. Something about the way Jiwoong spoke made his skin crawl, though he couldn’t quite place why.
“Well, we’re just heading out to a party,” Jaehyun said, breaking the tension. “Hopefully, we won’t run into any more trouble tonight.”
Jiwoong nodded, though the intensity in his eyes didn’t waver. “Be careful out there. And if you see anything unusual, don’t hesitate to call. Lakewood’s past has a way of creeping back when you least expect it.”
With that, Jiwoong gave them a curt nod and walked away, leaving Beomgyu and Jaehyun standing in the parking lot, a sense of unease settling over them.
“Creepy guy,” Beomgyu muttered as they got into the car.
Jaehyun nodded in agreement, starting the engine. “Yeah… something about him doesn’t sit right with me.”
As they drove off, heading towards the party, Beomgyu couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight’s events were far from over. Sheriff Jiwoong’s words echoed in his mind, a reminder that Lakewood’s shadows ran deep. And now, with a new sheriff in town, those shadows seemed to be growing darker by the minute.
======================================================
The living room at Soobin’s house was a vibrant mix of colorful decorations, music, and the buzz of excited conversation. Streamers hung from the ceiling, balloons were scattered across the floor, and the scent of freshly baked cake filled the air. Sunoo was at the center of it all, adding the final touches to the cake—a delicate arrangement of fruit and whipped cream that made the dessert look almost too beautiful to eat.
Sunghoon leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Sunoo work with a fond smile. “You’re really outdoing yourself this time,” he teased, reaching over to steal a strawberry from the cake.
Sunoo playfully swatted his hand away, though his eyes sparkled with affection. “Hands off, this has to be perfect! It’s for Yeonjun, after all.”
Sunghoon laughed, giving up his attempt at cake theft. “You’re right. The man of the hour deserves nothing less. But I think it’s safe to say he’ll be more impressed by the fact that you managed to make a cake and flirt with me at the same time.”
Sunoo smirked, finally finishing his masterpiece and stepping back to admire his work. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”
Sunghoon wrapped an arm around Sunoo’s waist, pulling him close. “And you’re all mine now,” he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to Sunoo’s cheek.
Sunoo blushed slightly, though he was clearly enjoying the attention. “Don’t let it go to your head, Hoon. I’m still mad at you for eating the last piece of cake at the last party.”
They both laughed, their banter easy and light, a stark contrast to the tension that had hung over them in recent weeks. For a moment, it felt like they could finally breathe, like the worst was behind them.
In the living room, Beomgyu was lounging on the couch, his phone in hand. He scrolled through the comments on his latest video, smirking at the flood of views and likes.
“Looks like you’ve done it again,” Sunghoon called from the kitchen, noticing Beomgyu’s self-satisfied expression. “Your new video’s already viral.”
“Of course it is,” Beomgyu replied, not bothering to hide his pride. “The world can’t get enough of me. And this one’s special—I’m not just some guy who took down a serial killer. I’m part of the Lakewood Six now. We’re legends.”
Sunoo joined them in the living room, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “You’re a tough bitch, that’s for sure,” he said with a grin. “But let’s be real, half those views are because people are obsessed with you and Jaehyun. They’re waiting for you to finally make it official.”
Beomgyu rolled his eyes, though a faint blush crept up his neck. “Please, they’re just jealous they’re not me.”
Sunoo chuckled, sitting down next to Beomgyu. “Keep telling yourself that. But seriously, it’s good to see you like this. After everything we’ve been through, you deserve to enjoy it.”
Before Beomgyu could respond, Soobin entered the room, looking slightly anxious. “Everything’s ready, right? The cake’s done, the decorations are perfect… now we just need Yeonjun to show up.”
“He’ll be here,” Sunghoon reassured him, taking a seat next to Sunoo. “You know Yeonjun, he’s probably fashionably late on purpose.”
“Yeah, he loves making an entrance,” Beomgyu added with a smirk.
Soobin nodded, though his worry didn’t fully fade. “I know, I know. I just… I want everything to be perfect. We’re finally all together again, and after everything that’s happened, Yeonjun deserves a celebration.”
“He does,” Sunoo agreed, his voice softening. “We all do. We made it through the worst, and now it’s time to start living again.”
The group fell into a comfortable silence, each of them reflecting on the journey that had brought them to this moment. They were no longer just a group of friends—they were survivors, bonded by the horrors they had faced and the strength they had found in each other. Jaehyun’s podcast had dubbed them the Lakewood Six, a title that had quickly caught on, but to them, it was more than just a name. It was a reminder that they had faced the darkness together and come out the other side.
As they waited for Yeonjun, the anticipation in the room grew. The music played softly in the background, the lights twinkled, and the cake sat proudly on the table, a symbol of their triumph. They were ready to celebrate, ready to embrace the future.
And soon, Yeonjun would walk through that door, and the Lakewood Six would be complete once more.
======================================================
The front door creaked open, and the room fell silent as all eyes turned to the figure standing in the doorway. Yeonjun hesitated for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the familiar faces of his friends before he managed a small, tentative smile.
“Yeonjun!” Sunoo was the first to break the silence, rushing forward to wrap his arms around him. The others quickly followed suit, and soon Yeonjun found himself enveloped in a warm, comforting group hug.
“We missed you, man,” Beomgyu said, his voice thick with emotion as he tightened his grip around Yeonjun’s shoulders.
“I missed you too,” Yeonjun murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. The past three months had been a blur of therapy sessions, late-night reflections, and trying to piece together the fragments of his shattered life. But standing here, surrounded by his friends, he finally felt like he could breathe again.
Sunghoon, who had been hanging back a little, finally joined the hug, though he couldn’t resist adding a comment. “So… do we call you boy, Interrupted now? Or is that too much?”
There was a moment of stunned silence before Sunoo swatted Sunghoon’s arm, rolling his eyes. “Really, Hoon? That’s what you’re going with?”
Sunghoon grinned, unrepentant. “Hey, it’s a compliment! Angelina Jolie won an Oscar for that role, and she’s hot. I’m just saying, Yeonjun’s got the same kind of intensity.”
Despite himself, Yeonjun let out a soft laugh, the sound breaking through the tension that had gripped the room. “I’m not sure that’s the comparison I was hoping for, but I’ll take it.”
“See? He gets it,” Sunghoon said, flashing a victorious smile at Sunoo, who just shook his head in exasperation.
Soobin, who had been holding back tears, finally stepped forward, his eyes shining with relief. “It’s so good to see you, Yeonjun. Really.”
Yeonjun looked around at his friends, his heart swelling with gratitude. “It’s good to be back. I didn’t know if I’d ever feel… normal again. But being here with you guys, it’s like… maybe everything will be all right after all.”
Sunoo stepped back and took Yeonjun’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’re going to make sure of that. You’re not alone in this, okay? We’ve all been through hell, but we survived. And now, we’re going to start living again.”
Beomgyu nodded in agreement. “And you know, if things ever get too heavy, we can always count on Sunghoon to make an inappropriate joke and lighten the mood.”
“Damn right,” Sunghoon chimed in, earning another playful eye roll from Sunoo.
They all laughed, the sound filling the room with a warmth that had been absent for far too long. The tension that had clung to them since Yeonjun’s arrival began to melt away, replaced by the comforting familiarity of their friendship.
“Come on,” Soobin said, gesturing toward the cake on the table. “We’ve got a party to get started. And I’m not letting you leave until you’ve had at least two slices of Sunoo’s cake. It’s a masterpiece.”
Yeonjun’s smile grew as he allowed himself to be led further into the room, his friends surrounding him like a protective barrier against the darkness that had once threatened to consume him. For the first time in months, he felt a flicker of hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, everything really would be all right again.
As the group settled into the evening, the music played, and the laughter flowed freely. They shared stories, memories, and plans for the future, each moment a reminder that they had survived not just as individuals, but as a family.
And though the scars of the past would never fully fade, they knew they could face whatever came next as long as they had each other.
======================================================
As the night grew late and the party began to wind down, the laughter and chatter slowly gave way to softer, more intimate conversations. Yeonjun found himself sitting on the edge of the couch, watching his friends with a contented smile. The warmth of their company was a balm to the scars that still lingered beneath the surface, but as the evening wore on, a quiet restlessness began to settle in his chest.
Soobin, who had been quietly observing Yeonjun for most of the night, noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor. He slipped into the seat beside Yeonjun, nudging him gently. “You okay?”
Yeonjun glanced at Soobin, the corners of his lips curling into a small, appreciative smile. “Yeah, I’m good. Better than I’ve been in a long time, actually.”
Soobin’s eyes softened as he looked at Yeonjun. “I’m glad to hear that. You know, if you need anything, I’m here. Always.”
Yeonjun hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Actually… I was thinking. I told my mom I’d stay with Beomgyu tonight, but… I kind of want to stay with you instead. If that’s okay.”
Soobin’s response was immediate, his voice gentle but unwavering. “Of course it’s okay. You don’t even have to ask.”
A wave of relief washed over Yeonjun, and he felt the last of his tension dissolve. “Thanks, Soobin. I just… I feel like I need to be close to you tonight.”
Soobin nodded, understanding without the need for further explanation. “Then let’s head out whenever you’re ready.”
As they stood up to leave, Beomgyu caught Yeonjun’s eye and shot him a thumbs-up. “You good, Yeonjun?”
“Yeah, I’m heading out with Soobin,” Yeonjun replied, feeling the warmth of his friend’s support.
Beomgyu grinned. “Cool. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
The two exchanged a nod before Yeonjun and Soobin made their way out of the house. Beomgyu lingered behind, watching them go with a satisfied smile. The night had gone better than he had expected, and the haunting memories of the theatre incident felt like a distant echo. He grabbed his jacket, preparing to leave, when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
He pulled it out, expecting a text or a notification, but instead, the screen displayed an incoming call from “UNKNOWN.” Beomgyu frowned, his fingers hesitating over the answer button. His first instinct was to ignore it, but curiosity got the better of him. He pressed the answer button and brought the phone to his ear.
“Whoever this is, you better have a good reason for calling so late,” Beomgyu said, trying to sound casual, though his voice carried an edge of annoyance.
A distorted voice crackled through the speaker, the telltale sign of a cheap voice changer. “Do you really think you’re safe, Beomgyu? After everything you’ve done?”
Beomgyu rolled his eyes, scoffing into the phone. “Seriously? A 99-cent voice changer? You think that’s gonna scare me?”
The voice on the other end remained calm, almost amused. “Oh, Beomgyu. You’re always so quick to dismiss the truth when it’s staring you in the face.”
Beomgyu’s smirk faltered slightly, a knot of unease forming in his stomach. “Who is this?”
“Let’s just say I know things about you… things you thought you could bury,” the voice continued, each word dripping with malice. “But secrets have a way of coming back, don’t they?”
Beomgyu’s heart began to race, his bravado slipping away as the weight of the caller’s words sank in. This wasn’t just some prank. Whoever this was, they knew something—something real. His mind raced, flashing back to the letters he had burned, the memories he had tried so hard to forget.
“What do you want?” Beomgyu asked, his voice low and tense.
The voice chuckled darkly. “Oh, you’ll find out soon enough. But for now, let’s just say… it’s time to face the consequences.”
The line went dead, leaving Beomgyu staring at his phone in stunned silence. The uneasy feeling that had been gnawing at him since the call started now fully took hold, twisting his gut into a knot.
Beomgyu looked around the now-empty house, the silence pressing in on him like a physical weight. The sense of safety he had clung to throughout the night crumbled away, leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable. Whoever that caller was, they weren’t done with him yet.
Taking a deep breath, Beomgyu stuffed his phone back into his pocket and quickly made his way out of the house. The night’s chill hit him as he stepped outside, but it did nothing to cool the anxiety simmering just beneath his skin. As he walked down the empty street, the shadows seemed to stretch longer, darker, as if they were reaching out to him, eager to pull him into their depths.
Beomgyu quickened his pace, his mind racing with thoughts of who could possibly know his secrets—and what they might do with that knowledge.
======================================================
Yeonjun lay in the darkness, the stillness of the room punctuated only by the rhythmic rise and fall of Soobin’s breathing. The events of the night—an emotional rollercoaster of reconnecting and confronting past demons—had left him feeling drained, and he had slipped into a fitful sleep. The dreams that followed, however, were anything but restful.
In the dream, Yeonjun found himself walking through a vast, desolate pig farm, the stench of decay hanging heavily in the air. The moon cast an eerie glow over the scene, highlighting the outlines of the grotesque, slumbering pigs. His footsteps were muffled by the mud, and an unsettling silence enveloped the barn as he approached.
Inside the barn, the scene was both bizarre and horrifying. A little boy, no older than six or seven, was digging through a pile of pig guts with a strange, joyous excitement. His small hands worked eagerly, pulling apart the viscera with giggles that echoed unsettlingly through the barn.
Yeonjun’s heart pounded in his chest as he took in the sight. The boy seemed oblivious to the gruesome scene around him, his laughter a chilling counterpoint to the blood-soaked muck. Yeonjun’s instinct was to approach, but his feet felt like they were rooted to the ground, the horror of the scene paralyzing him.
“Hey, kid,” Yeonjun called, his voice cracking with a mix of fear and concern. “What are you doing?”
The boy turned, his face smeared with blood and a wide, unsettling grin stretched across his face. “I’m playing,” he said cheerfully. “The pigs are happy. They love the game.”
Yeonjun’s mind raced, struggling to make sense of the nightmarish vision. Just as he reached out to the boy, the scene began to dissolve, the edges of reality blurring as the dream slipped away.
Yeonjun awoke with a start, his heart racing and sweat clinging to his brow. The nightmare lingered in the dark corners of his mind, the unsettling images refusing to fade. He glanced over at Soobin, who was curled up on the couch, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
The sight of Soobin, peacefully asleep on the couch, brought a strange comfort to Yeonjun. He could see the gentle rise and fall of his partner’s breathing, the way his features relaxed in sleep. The contrast between the nightmare and the calm reality of the room was jarring.
Yeonjun carefully slid out of bed, careful not to wake Soobin. He moved quietly to the living room, where Soobin’s presence on the couch was a testament to his caring nature. Soobin had clearly stayed out here, possibly thinking Yeonjun needed space or was having trouble sleeping. Yeonjun felt a pang of guilt mixed with gratitude.
He stood over Soobin, his mind still haunted by the remnants of the nightmare. The darkness of the dream was an unsettling counterpoint to the safety he felt here, with Soobin’s reassuring presence a grounding force. He reached out, brushing a lock of hair from Soobin’s forehead, his touch gentle and full of affection.
Soobin stirred slightly, blinking open his eyes and focusing on Yeonjun with a sleepy, questioning gaze. “Yeonjun? Is everything okay?”
Yeonjun forced a small smile, trying to dispel the lingering unease. “Yeah, it’s just… I had a bad dream. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Soobin sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Do you want to talk about it? Or… do you need anything?”
Yeonjun shook his head, feeling a wave of warmth from Soobin’s concern. “No, it’s okay. I just needed a moment to get my head straight. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Soobin looked at him with understanding, then patted the space beside him on the couch. “Why don’t you come sit with me? It might help to talk or just be close.”
Yeonjun hesitated, then nodded, feeling a deep sense of relief. He joined Soobin on the couch, settling in beside him. Soobin wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. The warmth of Soobin’s embrace was a soothing balm to the remnants of fear still gripping him.
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the nightmare slowly easing as Soobin’s presence grounded him. Yeonjun leaned into Soobin’s shoulder, letting the comfort of his partner’s touch help chase away the lingering shadows of his dream.
“Thanks,” Yeonjun murmured, his voice soft. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”
Soobin kissed the top of his head, his voice a gentle whisper. “Anytime. I’m here for you, always.”
Yeonjun sighed, closing his eyes and allowing himself to be enveloped by Soobin’s warmth. The nightmare, though still vivid in his mind, began to recede, overshadowed by the tangible comfort of the present moment. In Soobin’s arms, he found a reprieve from the darkness, a promise of safety that helped him face the night with a little more courage.
======================================================
Sunoo and Sunghoon had spent the evening at the school pool, hoping for a romantic night under the stars. The shimmering water and the soft, ambient lighting had promised a perfect setting for their relationship to deepen, but the night’s magic quickly dissipated as Sunoo’s internal struggles came to a head.
Sunoo felt the weight of the past few months press heavily on him. Despite his earlier enthusiasm, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right with his relationship with Sunghoon. As they lounged poolside, Sunoo found himself growing increasingly uncomfortable with the way things were headed.
“I think... I think we need to talk,” Sunoo said, his voice trembling slightly. He tried to keep his tone gentle, but the words felt like a leaden weight in his mouth.
Sunghoon looked at him with a mixture of confusion and concern. “What’s wrong? I thought tonight was going well.”
Sunoo avoided his gaze, focusing on the ripples in the pool water. “I just— I don’t think we’re meant to be together. I feel like I’m dragging you into something that’s not right.”
Sunghoon’s face fell, hurt flashing across his features. “Are you serious? After everything we’ve been through, you’re just going to end it like this?”
Sunoo’s heart ached, but he felt he had no other choice. “I’m sorry, Sunghoon. I need to go.”
Before Sunghoon could protest, Sunoo turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing against the empty school grounds. Sunghoon watched him go, feeling a pang of sorrow and frustration. He opened his mouth to call after Sunoo, but the words caught in his throat.
“Sunoo!” Sunghoon shouted, but Sunoo was already too far away to hear. Desperation filled his heart as he looked around, feeling the cool night air bite at his skin. “Please, wait!”
Sunghoon paced back and forth, his mind racing. He needed to prove to Sunoo that he had changed, that he was willing to do whatever it took to make things right. But as he turned to head back to the pool, a shadow moved in the corner of his vision.
The shadow grew clearer, and Sunghoon found himself face-to-face with a figure cloaked in black, the familiar mask of Ghostface gleaming in the moonlight. His heart skipped a beat, and fear gripped him as the figure stepped closer, the knife glinting ominously in the dim light.
“Sunghoon,” Ghostface’s voice was distorted but unmistakable, laced with a chilling edge. “It seems you’ve had quite the night. Care for a final performance?”
Sunghoon’s breath caught in his throat. “What do you want?”
Ghostface tilted his head, the mask’s eyes seeming to bore into Sunghoon’s soul. “I want to show you what it feels like to be abandoned, to be left behind. Just like Sunoo did to you.”
Sunghoon’s heart pounded, and he took a step back, trying to process the gravity of the situation. “No… no, this can’t be happening. I have to find Sunoo—”
“Too late for that,” Ghostface interrupted, stepping closer with a menacing grace. “You’re the one who’ll learn the true meaning of being left behind.”
Sunghoon tried to move away, but his feet felt like lead. The sense of impending doom was overwhelming, and he realized that escape was unlikely. Desperation surged within him, and he reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone in a last-ditch effort to call for help.
As he fumbled with the phone, Ghostface lunged, the knife slashing through the air. Sunghoon barely managed to dodge the first attack, stumbling backward into the pool area. The edge of the pool was cold against his back, and he could feel the chill of the night creeping into his bones.
“Help! Someone help!” Sunghoon’s voice was a panicked cry, but the desolation of the empty pool area seemed to swallow his words.
Ghostface advanced, the knife raised. “No one’s coming to save you, Sunghoon. It’s just you and me now.”
In a desperate move, Sunghoon swung his phone at Ghostface, trying to buy himself some time. The phone struck the killer’s mask with a dull thud, but it only seemed to enrage the figure further. Ghostface retaliated with a swift, deadly strike.
The battle was brief and brutal. Sunghoon fought back with every ounce of strength he had, but Ghostface was relentless. The fight ended as quickly as it began, with Sunghoon collapsing by the poolside, the pain from his wounds merging with the cold realization that he was alone.
As Sunghoon’s consciousness began to fade, he could hear the distant sound of sirens approaching, but they were too late. His final moments were filled with the haunting echo of Ghostface’s laughter and the cold, unyielding grip of fear.
======================================================
Yeonjun woke up with a knot in his stomach, the weight of his impending return to school pressing down on him. He hadn't been back since everything happened—Hanbin’s killing spree, the breakdown that followed, and the months spent in the institution. Today was supposed to be a fresh start, but it felt anything but.
Downstairs, the morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the breakfast table. Tiffany was already seated, her expression tight with worry. She glanced up as Yeonjun entered the room, but the usual warmth in her eyes was absent.
“Morning,” Yeonjun mumbled, grabbing a piece of toast. He wasn’t in the mood for a big breakfast, not with everything on his mind.
“Yeonjun, we need to talk,” Tiffany began, her voice edged with frustration.
Yeonjun sighed inwardly, already sensing where this was going. “What is it, Mom?”
“You lied to me about staying at Beomgyu’s,” Tiffany said, her tone sharper now. “Why would you do that? Are you running away from me?”
Yeonjun paused, the toast halfway to his mouth. He wasn’t sure how to respond, the words sticking in his throat. “I wasn’t running away,” he finally muttered. “I just…needed some space.”
“Space?” Tiffany repeated, her voice rising slightly. “Yeonjun, I’ve been worried sick about you. You’re not the only one who went through all of this, you know. I just want you to be honest with me.”
“I know, Mom,” Yeonjun said, guilt washing over him. “I’m sorry. I just—I needed to be with my friends.”
Tiffany’s expression softened, but the tension between them remained. “I understand that, but you can’t keep shutting me out. We’re in this together, Yeonjun. Please don’t forget that.”
Yeonjun nodded, but the conversation left a bitter taste in his mouth. He felt like he was letting her down, but he didn’t know how to bridge the gap that had grown between them. With a final glance at Tiffany, he grabbed his bag and headed for the door, eager to escape the weight of the conversation.
The drive to school was quiet, the usual excitement of returning to campus overshadowed by the morning’s argument. Yeonjun tried to push the thoughts away as he parked and made his way to his first class, hoping that seeing his friends would lighten his mood.
======================================================
The sun rose over Lakewood High, casting a gentle light on the bustling school grounds. Students were already milling about, their conversations a backdrop of teenage life as the first day back began. For Sunoo, the excitement of returning to a normal routine was tinged with the sadness of his recent breakup with Sunghoon. His face was shadowed with worry as he walked through the school halls, his thoughts heavy with regret and longing.
He met up with Yeonjun, who had finally returned to school after his stint in the institution. Yeonjun’s usual confidence seemed a bit shaky as he stood at the base of the stairs, glancing up with a hint of apprehension. He’d made great strides in his recovery, but the thought of facing the school after all that had happened still unsettled him.
“Hey,” Sunoo greeted, trying to sound upbeat despite the melancholy in his voice. “How are you holding up?”
Yeonjun forced a smile. “I’m okay. Just... a bit nervous. I keep thinking about everything that happened.”
Sunoo nodded, his own heart heavy. “I know what you mean. It’s been rough. I’ve been thinking a lot about Sunghoon and the mess I’ve made. I should have handled things better.”
Before Sunoo could sink further into his thoughts, Beomgyu appeared beside Yeonjun, offering a supportive presence. “Hey, don’t get stuck in the past,” Beomgyu said, his voice steady. “We all have our issues, but we’re in this together.”
Yeonjun looked up, meeting Beomgyu’s gaze with a grateful smile. “Thanks. I’ve been a little overwhelmed, but I’m ready to get back to normal, or as close as we can get.”
As they climbed the stairs, Yeonjun’s mind flashed back to his breakdown, the darkness that had engulfed him, and the fear of not being able to move forward. He hesitated, the stairs seeming to stretch infinitely before him.
Beomgyu, noticing Yeonjun’s moment of doubt, reached out and took his hand firmly. “We’ve been through a lot,” Beomgyu said, his voice reassuring. “But remember, we’re the Lakewood Six. We’ve faced worse and survived. We stick together, and that makes us stronger.”
Yeonjun felt a surge of strength from Beomgyu’s words and his supportive grip. He took a deep breath and continued up the stairs, feeling a renewed sense of determination. “You’re right,” Yeonjun said. “We are strong together. I can do this.”
Sunoo, observing the solidarity between Yeonjun and Beomgyu, felt a glimmer of hope. Despite his own personal struggles, seeing his friends rally around each other gave him a sense of unity and purpose. “We’ve got this,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else. “We’re going to make it through this, and we’ll come out stronger.”
The trio reached the top of the stairs, and as they walked through the hallways of Lakewood High, they were joined by Jaehyun, who greeted them with a knowing nod. Despite the challenges ahead, the Lakewood Six were ready to face whatever came next, their bond as strong as ever.
As they entered their classrooms and settled into the rhythm of school life once again, the weight of their past experiences was still present, but they moved forward with a renewed sense of purpose and solidarity. For the Lakewood Six, the road ahead would be filled with its own set of challenges, but they were determined to face them together.
======================================================
The bell rang, signaling the start of Psychology class. Yeonjun, Beomgyu, and Sunoo filed into the room, where a new atmosphere of fresh beginnings mingled with their anticipation of what the day might bring.
Yeonjun spotted the two new students as soon as he entered. Zhang Hao, a tall, lanky figure with dark hair and a friendly smile, was sitting near the front. Beside him sat Leehan, who had an air of quiet intensity about him. His dark eyes were focused intently on a sketchpad, from which the faint rustling of a pencil could be heard.
The trio took their seats and noticed that the new teacher, Sooyoung, had already arranged her desk at the front of the room. She was an approachable-looking woman with an easy smile and an air of confidence that immediately put the students at ease.
“So, I see we have a few new faces in class today,” Sooyoung said, her eyes scanning the room. “Welcome, everyone. I’m Ms. Sooyoung, and I’ll be your Psychology teacher this year.”
Zhang Hao raised his hand. “Hi, I’m Zhang Hao. I just transferred here from China.”
“Nice to meet you, Zhang Hao,” Sooyoung replied, smiling warmly. “And who might this be?”
Leehan, who had been busy sketching, looked up with a slightly enigmatic smile. “I’m Leehan. My father is Sheriff Jiwoong.”
“Ah, yes, welcome, Leehan,” Sooyoung said, giving him a nod. “It’s good to have you here. I trust you’ll all find this class both enlightening and engaging.”
As the students settled in, Sooyoung began to lay out the syllabus. “Today, we’ll start with some basic concepts in psychology and get to know each other a bit better. I have a few questions and a short quiz to get us started.”
Yeonjun tried to focus on Sooyoung’s instructions, but his attention was intermittently drawn to Leehan, who seemed engrossed in his drawing. The image on the sketchpad was partially hidden, but Yeonjun caught glimpses of his own face, drawn with an unsettling precision. The sketch was detailed, almost too detailed, and Yeonjun couldn’t help but feel a shiver run down his spine.
Beomgyu leaned over to Yeonjun, whispering, “Is it just me, or does Leehan look like he’s up to something?”
Yeonjun nodded subtly, keeping his voice low. “I don’t know. But that drawing he’s working on—something about it feels off.”
Sunoo glanced over at the sketchpad, catching a fleeting glimpse of Yeonjun’s drawn likeness. He looked at his friends and said, “Yeah, that’s definitely weird. Let’s keep an eye on him.”
Meanwhile, Sooyoung had started handing out the quizzes. “Alright, everyone, let’s dive into some basic psychological theories. This quiz will help us gauge where we all stand.”
As the students began their quizzes, Leehan continued to draw, his focus unwavering. The pencil moved methodically across the paper, capturing every detail with an eerie accuracy. Occasionally, he’d glance up at Yeonjun, his expression unreadable.
Yeonjun tried to shake off the unease, focusing on the quiz in front of him. The questions were straightforward, but his mind kept wandering back to the image Leehan was creating. He hoped it was just his imagination, but the sense of being watched, of something unsettlingly personal being illustrated, lingered.
The class continued with Sooyoung guiding them through discussions and theories, but the undercurrent of tension from Leehan’s unsettling behavior hung in the air. As the bell rang to end the class, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, and Sunoo exchanged worried glances.
“So, what did you think?” Beomgyu asked as they packed up their things.
Sunoo shrugged. “The class seems normal enough, but Leehan is definitely giving off some weird vibes. We should try to find out more about him.”
Yeonjun agreed. “Definitely. I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something off about him. Let’s keep our eyes open.”
As they left the classroom, the trio felt a sense of unease mixed with curiosity. The new school year had begun, but with it came new mysteries and uncertainties, and the presence of Leehan added an unsettling twist to their already complicated lives.
======================================================
After class, Yeonjun found himself standing next to Zhang Hao at the hallway, who seemed eager to strike up a conversation.
“You’re Yeonjun, right?” Zhang Hao asked, his tone friendly. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Yeah, that’s me,” Yeonjun replied, trying to keep his voice light. “You’re Zhang Hao, right? Just transferred?”
“Yeah, from China,” Zhang Hao confirmed. “It’s been a big change, but I’m getting used to it. How’s your first day back?”
Yeonjun hesitated, not sure how much to reveal. “It’s…weird, but it’s good to be back, I guess.”
Zhang Hao nodded sympathetically. “I can imagine. I heard a bit about what happened last year. Must have been rough.”
“Yeah, it was,” Yeonjun said, not wanting to dwell on it. “But we’re all trying to move on.”
“That’s good,” Zhang Hao said, before pausing slightly. “Hey, I was wondering—how’s Jaehyun doing?”
Yeonjun looked at him curiously. “Jaehyun? He’s doing okay, I guess. Why do you ask?”
Zhang Hao shrugged, his expression unreadable. “I’ve just heard a lot about him. Seems like an interesting guy.”
“He is,” Yeonjun said slowly, not sure where the conversation was going. “He’s been through a lot too, but he’s handling it.”
Zhang Hao nodded again, a thoughtful look on his face. “That’s good to hear. Maybe I’ll get a chance to talk to him sometime.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Yeonjun replied, his curiosity piqued. There was something about Zhang Hao’s interest in Jaehyun that didn’t sit right with him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
As the class continued, Yeonjun tried to focus on the lecture, but his mind kept drifting back to the conversation with Zhang Hao. The argument with his mom, the unsettling questions about Jaehyun, and the feeling that something was off—it all weighed on him, making his first day back more complicated than he’d hoped.
When the bell rang, signaling the end of class, Yeonjun gathered his things and walked out with Beomgyu and Sunoo, feeling a little lighter with their company. But as they headed to their next class, he couldn’t shake the feeling that things were far from normal, and that the shadows of the past were still lurking just out of sight.
======================================================
Beomgyu's phone buzzed again, the screen lighting up with another message from the unknown number. He stared at it, his stomach twisting into knots as he read the words:
How’s the party, partner? Guess who’s watching you right now.
He swallowed hard, glancing around the crowded hallway. Everyone was preoccupied with their own conversations, their own lives, but it felt like eyes were on him, scrutinizing his every move. He quickly shoved the phone back into his pocket, trying to push the anxiety down.
He knew he had to tell someone, but the thought of involving the police made his skin crawl. They would dig too deep, ask too many questions, questions that Beomgyu wasn't ready to answer. He'd barely managed to keep everything together after Hanbin's rampage; he couldn't let things unravel now.
Jaehyun’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Beomgyu, what’s going on with you?”
Beomgyu looked up to see Jaehyun watching him, concern etched into his features. They had just finished their lunch, and Jaehyun had noticed Beomgyu's distracted behavior all day.
“It’s nothing,” Beomgyu lied, forcing a smile. “Just some random prank messages. Probably some asshole from the theater.”
Jaehyun didn’t look convinced. “You’re lying. I know you, Beomgyu. You’ve been on edge since the party.”
“Drop it, Jaehyun,” Beomgyu snapped, the words coming out sharper than he intended.
“Why won’t you let the police handle it? This isn’t something you can just ignore,” Jaehyun pressed, his tone rising.
“Because it’s not their business!” Beomgyu shot back, feeling his control slipping. “I don’t need them sticking their noses where they don’t belong.”
Jaehyun’s eyes narrowed. “What aren’t you telling me, Beomgyu? What’s really going on?”
For a moment, Beomgyu considered spilling everything, the whole mess that had been eating away at him since the first text. But the fear of what Jaehyun might think—of what might come out—held him back. Instead, he shook his head.
“Just drop it, okay?” Beomgyu repeated, his voice lower now. “I can handle this.”
Jaehyun sighed, his frustration evident, but he didn’t push further. “Fine. But don’t think I’m not worried about you.”
They walked in silence after that, the tension between them thick. It wasn’t until they were outside, heading toward their next class, that Beomgyu finally spoke again.
“Look, I’m sorry for snapping at you,” he said, his voice softer. “I just… I need to figure this out on my own.”
Jaehyun glanced at him, the concern still in his eyes. “Okay. But you know I’m here if you need me, right?”
Beomgyu nodded, grateful for Jaehyun’s understanding, even if it wasn’t complete. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”
They managed to smooth things over, but the uneasy feeling in Beomgyu’s gut didn’t go away. As much as he tried to shake it off, the messages from the unknown number kept replaying in his mind. They were too specific, too pointed. Whoever was behind them knew too much—about the party, about him, about what he’d done.
The phone buzzed again just as they reached the classroom. Beomgyu’s heart skipped a beat as he pulled it out, dreading what he might find.
You can’t keep running from the past, Beomgyu. It always catches up.
His breath caught in his throat. The message was vague, sure, but there was something in it that struck a nerve. He could feel the walls closing in, the secrets he’d tried so hard to bury clawing their way to the surface.
“Everything okay?” Jaehyun asked, noticing the change in Beomgyu’s expression.
Beomgyu quickly locked the phone and forced another smile. “Yeah, just… more prank stuff. Nothing to worry about.”
Jaehyun didn’t seem convinced, but he let it go, for now. As they walked into the classroom, Beomgyu could feel his pulse racing. He knew this wasn’t over—whatever game the mysterious figure was playing, it was only just beginning. And he was right in the middle of it.
======================================================
The night felt colder than usual as Beomgyu returned to the theater, the air heavy with the remnants of summer fading into fall. The eerie quiet of the empty halls sent a shiver down his spine as he made his way to the back, where the staff restrooms were located. His footsteps echoed, bouncing off the walls, and for a brief moment, he wished he wasn’t alone.
As he approached the restroom, something felt off—an unsettling sense of dread creeping up on him. Beomgyu hesitated, his hand hovering over the door handle before he finally pushed it open. The fluorescent lights flickered as they buzzed to life, casting harsh shadows across the tiled floor.
His heart sank the moment he stepped inside.
The stall at the far end of the room was plastered with paper, a chaotic collage of letters taped to the walls and door. Beomgyu’s blood ran cold as he recognized the handwriting—his handwriting. These were the letters he had written to Hanbin, letters filled with fear, confusion, and everything he had never wanted anyone to see.
He forced himself to approach, his legs heavy with each step. His eyes scanned the letters, the words blurring together as panic set in. Whoever did this had access to his darkest secrets, and they weren’t just taunting him—they were threatening to expose everything.
The sharp ring of his phone broke through the silence, making him jump. He fumbled to pull it out, his hands trembling as he saw the caller ID: UNKNOWN.
He answered, his voice strained. “What do you want?”
A distorted voice crackled on the other end, cold and mocking. “Did you like my little surprise, Beomgyu? Thought I’d remind you that your secrets are never really safe.”
Beomgyu’s grip tightened around the phone. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”
The voice laughed softly, sending chills down his spine. “I’ve got copies of all those letters, Beomgyu. So even if you’re thinking about asking for help, just remember—I can ruin you with the push of a button.”
Beomgyu swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because it’s fun,” the caller replied, their tone dripping with malice. “And because you’ve made yourself an easy target. All that guilt, all that fear—it’s practically begging to be exploited.”
Beomgyu’s mind raced. “What do you want me to do?”
“For now? Just keep playing along. You and Jaehyun seem so good at solving mysteries. Why not make this one your next project? See if you can figure out who’s pulling the strings this time.”
The call ended abruptly, leaving Beomgyu standing in the restroom, his breath coming in short gasps. He stared at the letters on the stall, his thoughts spinning out of control. This wasn’t just some prank—this was personal. And whoever was behind it knew exactly how to hurt him.
His phone buzzed again, this time with a text from Jaehyun: *You okay? I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier. Maybe we should talk.*
Beomgyu quickly typed back: *We need to meet. It’s worse than I thought.*
They agreed to meet outside the theater, and within minutes, Jaehyun was there, looking concerned. “What happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Beomgyu motioned for Jaehyun to follow him back inside. “You need to see this.”
They returned to the restroom, and Beomgyu showed Jaehyun the stall covered in letters. Jaehyun’s eyes widened as he took it all in. “What the hell…?”
“This person knows everything,” Beomgyu whispered, the weight of it all pressing down on him. “They’ve got copies of these letters, and they’re threatening to expose me.”
Jaehyun glanced at the letters, then back at Beomgyu. “Did Hanbin have an accomplice?”
“No,” Beomgyu said, shaking his head. “At least, I don’t think so. But whoever this is… they’re following us, Jaehyun. They’ve probably been listening to your podcast, watching every move we make.”
Jaehyun frowned, deep in thought. “If that’s the case, then they’ve probably commented on it. We might be able to figure out who they are.”
Beomgyu nodded, feeling a small spark of hope. “Yeah. We just need to start digging. But we can’t involve the police—not yet. This has to stay between us.”
Jaehyun agreed, though the concern in his eyes didn’t fade. “We’ll figure this out, Beomgyu. We have to.”
They left the restroom together, the chill in the air matching the unease that settled over them. As they walked into the night, Beomgyu couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. Whoever was behind this wasn’t going to stop until they had everything they wanted. And Beomgyu wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to face what was coming.
======================================================
Sunghoon's head throbbed as he slowly regained consciousness. The world around him was dark and hazy, and it took him a moment to realize that the damp, metallic scent filling his nostrils was his own blood. He groaned, wincing at the pain radiating from the gash on his forehead as he tried to sit up.
His eyes adjusted to the dim light, and he found himself in a barn. The wooden beams overhead creaked in the wind, and the smell of hay and old wood filled the space. Sunghoon’s heart raced as he pieced together the events that had led him here. The pool, the killer… and then nothing.
As he struggled to his feet, he noticed something out of place—a broom leaned against the door, adorned with a ribbon and a small, hand-painted sign that read: *Boy Interrupted.*
A shiver ran down his spine. The killer was mocking him, taunting him with a reference to his breakup with Sunoo. Sunghoon’s breath quickened, the realization hitting him hard. He had to get out of here. Now.
Every movement sent waves of pain through his body, but he pushed through it, his desperation to survive outweighing the agony. He limped toward the barn doors, one hand clutching his side as he used the other to push the heavy doors open. The cool night air hit his face, offering a brief moment of relief as he squinted into the darkness outside.
His legs threatened to give out, but he forced himself to keep moving. Freedom was just beyond those doors. All he had to do was make it out and find help. But as he stumbled forward, he felt a presence behind him.
He froze, dread pooling in his stomach. Slowly, he turned his head, and his heart plummeted. The killer stood right behind him, masked and menacing, holding a scythe in one hand.
Sunghoon’s breath hitched as he tried to find the strength to run, but it was too late. The killer struck him across the back of his legs, and he crumpled to the ground with a scream, pain searing through his body.
“No,” Sunghoon whimpered, trying to crawl away. “Please… don’t do this…”
But the killer didn’t respond. Cold and methodical, they grabbed him by the ankles and dragged him back into the barn. Sunghoon clawed at the dirt, his nails breaking as he tried to hold on to anything that might stop the inevitable.
He was lifted off the ground, the world spinning as the killer hoisted him up and tied his legs to a rope hanging from the rafters. Sunghoon hung there, upside down, the blood rushing to his head, disorienting him further. The pain was unbearable, his vision blurring as he watched the killer approach with the scythe.
“No… no…!” Sunghoon’s pleas fell on deaf ears. The killer showed no mercy as they raised the scythe high and brought it down with brutal force.
A scream tore from Sunghoon’s throat as the blade sliced through his flesh, splitting him open. The pain was indescribable, a white-hot agony that consumed every fiber of his being.
His vision darkened, the world fading away as his blood pooled beneath him, soaking into the hay. The last thing he heard was the creaking of the barn’s wooden beams and the soft rustle of the wind through the trees outside. And then, there was nothing.
======================================================
Yeonjun sat at the edge of his bed, fingers drumming anxiously on his knees. The memory of the dream from the previous night still lingered in his mind—a little boy in a barn, giggling as he dug through pig guts. The dream had felt too real, too vivid, like a memory rather than a figment of his imagination. But why would he be dreaming of a barn? And why did it feel so eerily familiar?
He grabbed his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found Jaehyun's name. They hadn’t exactly been best friends recently, but Jaehyun’s obsession with the murders had led him to some surprising discoveries in the past. Maybe he could help make sense of this.
When Jaehyun picked up, Yeonjun didn't waste time. “I need to ask you something,” he said, his voice tense. “Do you have anything about a barn on your murder board?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line before Jaehyun answered, his curiosity piqued. “A barn? Why?”
Yeonjun hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “I keep dreaming about it. It feels important, like it’s connected to everything that’s been happening.”
Jaehyun’s voice took on a serious tone. “Come over. I think I might have something.”
Yeonjun didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed his jacket and keys, heading out the door and making the short drive to Jaehyun’s place. The tension between them had cooled a bit since Yeonjun had agreed to be part of Jaehyun’s podcast, but there was still a lingering unease. Both of them knew they were in too deep, but there was no turning back now.
When he arrived, Jaehyun was already waiting for him, his murder board covered with articles, photos, and notes about the Lakewood murders. The barn was there, a faded photograph pinned near the center of the board. The sight of it sent a chill down Yeonjun’s spine.
Jaehyun pointed to the picture. “This is what you saw, right?”
Yeonjun nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the photograph. “That’s it. That’s the barn.”
Jaehyun crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful. “This barn has come up in my research. It’s rumored to belong to Troy James, Brandon James’ brother. Some people say he’s been living out there, off the grid, ever since Brandon was killed. It’s always been just a rumor, but if you’ve been dreaming about it…”
Yeonjun didn’t need to hear more. “I have to go there,” he said, his voice firm.
Jaehyun looked at him, concern flickering in his eyes. “Yeonjun, are you sure that’s a good idea? If Troy’s involved in any of this, it could be dangerous.”
Yeonjun shook his head, his mind made up. “I need to know. There’s something about that barn… something important. I can feel it.”
Jaehyun sighed, knowing there was no changing Yeonjun’s mind once he’d decided on something. “Alright. But we go together. I’m not letting you walk into this alone.”
Yeonjun appreciated the support, even if he didn’t say it out loud. “Fine. We’ll go together.”
As they prepared to leave, the weight of what they were about to do hung heavy in the air. Yeonjun’s heart raced with a mix of fear and determination. This barn held answers—he was certain of it. And whatever they found there, it would bring them one step closer to the truth.
======================================================
The drive to the barn was tense, with the weight of uncertainty hanging between Yeonjun and Jaehyun. The sun had just set, casting long shadows over the fields as they approached the dilapidated structure. The barn stood in the distance, its weathered wood almost blending into the twilight. There was an eerie stillness to the place, as if it had been waiting for them.
Jaehyun parked the car a safe distance away, turning off the headlights as they both stared at the barn. “Are you sure about this, Yeonjun?” Jaehyun asked, his voice low. “If Troy James is in there, we could be walking into something dangerous.”
Yeonjun nodded, his gaze fixed on the barn. “I need to know what’s going on. If Troy is involved, he might have answers.” He swallowed, feeling the familiar churn of anxiety in his gut, but pushed it aside. He couldn’t back out now.
They got out of the car, moving cautiously through the tall grass until they reached the barn. Yeonjun paused at the door, his heart pounding in his chest. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open, the old hinges creaking in protest.
The barn was empty. Dust motes floated in the air, illuminated by the faint light filtering through the cracked wooden slats. The silence was almost deafening. Yeonjun’s eyes scanned the interior, half-expecting to find some sign of life, but there was nothing. Just the remnants of an old farming life long abandoned.
“It’s empty,” Jaehyun whispered, a mix of relief and confusion in his voice. “Maybe this was just a wild goose chase after all.”
But Yeonjun wasn’t ready to give up. Something kept tugging at him, telling him there was more to this place. He turned towards the house adjacent to the barn and froze. There, through one of the windows, he saw it—a faint light flickering inside.
“Troy might be in there,” Yeonjun muttered, more to himself than to Jaehyun.
Before Jaehyun could react, Yeonjun was already making his way toward the house. “Yeonjun, wait!” Jaehyun called out, his voice laced with panic, but Yeonjun didn’t stop. His feet moved on their own, driven by a need to uncover the truth, no matter how terrifying it might be.
He reached the door and hesitated for just a moment before pushing it open. The house was dark, the air thick with the smell of decay and dust. The light he’d seen was coming from deeper inside. With each step, the floorboards creaked under his weight, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent house.
“Yeonjun, this is a bad idea,” Jaehyun whispered urgently as he followed him inside, his eyes darting around the shadowy interior.
But Yeonjun wasn’t listening. He moved toward the light, which was emanating from a small room at the end of the hallway. The door was slightly ajar, and with a trembling hand, he pushed it open.
What he saw inside made his blood run cold.
The room was filled with photographs, hundreds of them, plastered on the walls like some twisted collage. And every single one of them was of him. Pictures from different times in his life—some from school, some more recent, and some that seemed to have been taken without his knowledge. They were all staring back at him, a silent testament to the fact that someone had been watching him for a very long time.
“Oh my God,” Jaehyun breathed, his voice barely above a whisper as he took in the horrifying display. “What the hell is this?”
Yeonjun’s mind raced, trying to process what he was seeing. Why were there so many pictures of him? Who had taken them? And why?
His eyes landed on a particular photograph, one that was different from the rest. It was newer, the edges still sharp, and it showed his mother, Tiffany, sitting on the porch of their home just a few days ago.
“He’s been watching me and my mom,” Yeonjun muttered, his voice shaking. “He’s been watching me this whole time.”
Jaehyun moved closer, his face pale. “We need to get out of here, Yeonjun. This is messed up. If Troy James is behind this… we’re in serious danger.”
But Yeonjun couldn’t tear his eyes away from the photos. It was as if they were pulling him in, trapping him in this nightmare. His breath came in shallow gasps as the realization hit him like a tidal wave. Whoever had done this—Troy or someone else—was far from finished with him.
Suddenly, the sound of a door creaking open from somewhere deeper in the house snapped him out of his daze. Both Yeonjun and Jaehyun turned toward the noise, their hearts pounding in unison.
“Let’s go,” Jaehyun urged, grabbing Yeonjun’s arm and pulling him toward the exit.
But as they hurried out of the house, one thought haunted Yeonjun’s mind: this wasn’t over. Whoever was behind this was still out there, and they were coming for him.
Chapter 12: Psycho
Chapter Text
The sound of the door slamming echoed in Yeonjun's ears, his scream bouncing off the walls of the small, suffocating room. The photographs seemed to close in around him, each one a silent witness to his terror. His chest tightened, panic clawing at his throat as he turned in circles, desperate to escape the nightmare he’d stumbled into.
But then, in the midst of his spiraling fear, he caught a glimpse of movement in the adjoining room. A shadow—dark, swift, and unmistakably human—flitted past the doorway.
Yeonjun’s heart nearly stopped. His breath caught in his throat as he strained to see through the dim light, his mind racing with possibilities. Was it Troy James? Or someone else entirely? Whoever it was, they were here. And they’d been watching him.
“Who’s there?” he shouted, his voice cracking. But there was no answer, only the deafening silence that followed.
Gathering what little courage he had left, Yeonjun stumbled toward the doorway, peering into the next room. The figure was gone, but the faint sound of hurried footsteps retreating down the hall told him they hadn’t gone far.
Without thinking, Yeonjun bolted after them, his footsteps loud and frantic as he chased the phantom down the narrow corridor. But just as he reached the end of the hall, the front door slammed shut with a heavy thud, cutting off his pursuit.
The house was still again, save for the pounding of his heart in his ears.
Yeonjun stood frozen in place, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. Whoever that was—they had been inside the house, watching him, maybe even waiting for him. The reality of the situation began to sink in, and a shiver ran down his spine.
Suddenly, he heard a voice calling from outside. “Yeonjun! Are you okay?”
It was Jaehyun. Yeonjun blinked, the spell of fear momentarily broken. He turned and rushed back through the house, nearly tripping over the threshold as he burst out the front door.
Jaehyun was standing by the car, his face pale and tense. “What the hell happened in there?” he demanded, eyes wide with concern. “I heard you scream.”
Yeonjun’s chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. “There was… someone in there,” he gasped, glancing back at the house as if expecting the hooded figure to reappear at any moment. “I saw them, but they ran away before I could—”
“Someone else was inside?” Jaehyun cut him off, his expression darkening. “Did you see who it was?”
Yeonjun shook his head, frustration and fear mingling in his voice. “No, they were too fast. But I swear I saw them, Jaehyun. They were watching me.”
Jaehyun looked over Yeonjun’s shoulder at the darkened house, his jaw clenching. “We need to get out of here,” he said, his voice firm. “This place is dangerous, and whoever that was might still be around.”
Yeonjun nodded, still shaken but unwilling to argue. The images from the room—the photos, the shadowy figure—flashed through his mind, making him feel sick. He wanted to be anywhere but here.
They quickly made their way to Jaehyun’s car, both of them glancing back at the house as if expecting the mysterious figure to emerge and follow them. But the house remained silent, its secrets hidden once more.
As they drove away, the weight of what had just happened settled heavily on Yeonjun’s shoulders. “We need to figure out who that was,” he murmured, staring out the window at the passing landscape. “And why they have those pictures of me.”
Jaehyun nodded, his expression grim. “We will,” he said. “But first, we need to get somewhere safe. We’ll regroup and figure out our next move.”
Yeonjun leaned back in his seat, his mind racing with questions that had no answers. Whoever had been in that house—whoever had been watching him—was still out there. And now, more than ever, Yeonjun knew that the nightmare was far from over.
Back at home, Yeonjun couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that had settled deep in his chest. The images from the house—the shadowy figure, the eerie room plastered with photographs of him—kept replaying in his mind, refusing to fade.
He knew he couldn’t keep this to himself any longer.
That evening, he found his mom, Tiffany, sitting in the living room, a book in her lap that she was barely reading. The worry lines etched on her face deepened as she looked up at him, her maternal instincts sensing that something was wrong.
“Yeonjun, what is it?” she asked gently, setting the book aside. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
He hesitated, then sat down beside her, wringing his hands together. “Mom, there’s something I need to tell you,” he began, his voice trembling slightly. “I went to Troy James’ house today… with Jaehyun.”
Tiffany’s eyes widened in alarm. “Yeonjun, what were you thinking? That place is dangerous, especially after everything that’s happened. Why would you—”
“There was a room,” Yeonjun interrupted, his words coming out in a rush. “A room full of pictures of me. Someone was in there, Mom. Someone was watching me.”
Tiffany’s expression shifted from concern to fear, but she quickly masked it, reaching out to hold his hand. “Did you see who it was?”
Yeonjun shook his head. “No, they were gone before I could catch them. But I know what I saw, Mom. I’m not imagining this.”
She squeezed his hand, her grip firm and reassuring. “I believe you, Yeonjun. But you can’t keep living in fear like this. We have to do something about it.”
Yeonjun nodded, relief flooding through him at her words. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, his voice small. “I thought maybe if I told you, it would help. But now I’m just more scared.”
Tiffany’s eyes softened, and she pulled him into a hug, holding him close. “We’re going to figure this out,” she promised, her voice steady. “You don’t have to do this alone, Yeonjun. We’ll go back to that house together, and we’ll find out what’s really going on.”
Yeonjun pulled back slightly, looking at her in surprise. “You’d do that?”
“Of course I would,” Tiffany replied without hesitation. “I’m not going to let you face this on your own. We’ll go tonight, and we’ll see for ourselves what’s in that room. But you have to promise me that if things get too dangerous, we’ll leave immediately.”
Yeonjun nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude and love for his mother. “I promise.”
A few hours later, under the cover of darkness, they drove back to Troy James’ house. The journey was quiet, the air thick with tension. Yeonjun’s heart pounded as they approached the old, decrepit building, its looming silhouette even more menacing in the moonlight.
They parked a short distance away, and Tiffany reached into the glove compartment, pulling out a small flashlight. “Stay close to me,” she instructed, her voice calm but firm.
Yeonjun nodded, his nerves on edge as they made their way toward the house. The front door creaked ominously as Tiffany pushed it open, and they stepped inside, the floorboards groaning under their weight.
The house was eerily silent, just as it had been earlier. But as they approached the room where Yeonjun had seen the photographs, a gnawing sense of unease settled in his stomach.
Tiffany led the way, shining the flashlight ahead of them. When they finally reached the room, Yeonjun’s breath caught in his throat.
It was empty.
No chair. No television. And definitely no pictures of him.
Yeonjun’s heart sank, disbelief flooding through him as he stepped into the room, his eyes frantically searching for any sign of what he had seen earlier. But there was nothing. The walls were bare, the space devoid of any trace of the terror that had gripped him just hours before.
“This… this can’t be,” Yeonjun muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “It was all here, Mom. I swear it was all here.”
Tiffany frowned, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Yeonjun, are you sure this is the right room?”
“Yes!” Yeonjun insisted, frustration and fear twisting his gut. “I know what I saw. Someone must have come and taken everything. They’re covering their tracks.”
Tiffany’s gaze softened, and she stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Yeonjun. We’ll figure this out. Maybe we should go to the police—”
“No!” Yeonjun snapped, panic rising in his chest. “No police. If whoever did this knows I’ve been here, they’ll… they’ll…”
He trailed off, unable to finish the thought, his mind racing with the possibilities.
Tiffany’s expression hardened with resolve. “Then we’ll be careful,” she said firmly. “We’ll figure out another way. But I’m not letting you go through this alone, okay? We’ll get to the bottom of this together.”
======================================================
Yeonjun arrived at Soobin’s house feeling like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff, his thoughts a swirling mess of fear and confusion. The night was cool, the sky a dark canvas dotted with stars, but the beauty of it all did little to soothe the turmoil inside him.
Soobin opened the door, his usual calm demeanor instantly shifting to concern when he saw Yeonjun’s face. “Yeonjun, what happened? You look… shaken.”
Yeonjun stepped inside, his movements heavy with exhaustion. “It’s just—everything’s a mess,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what’s real anymore.”
They settled into the living room, the familiar comfort of Soobin’s home offering a temporary reprieve from the chaos in Yeonjun’s mind. Soobin waited patiently, letting the silence stretch until Yeonjun was ready to speak.
“I went back to Troy James’ house with my mom,” Yeonjun began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I wanted to show her what I saw. The pictures, the room… But it was all gone. Completely empty, like none of it ever existed.”
Soobin’s eyes widened slightly. “That’s… unsettling. Are you sure it was the right room?”
“Yes, I’m sure!” Yeonjun snapped, then immediately regretted the outburst. He softened his tone, his voice thick with frustration. “I know what I saw, Soobin. But now I’m starting to think… what if I’m just losing it? What if it was all in my head?”
Soobin’s brow furrowed with concern. “Yeonjun, you’re not losing it. Maybe someone cleaned the place out after you left. It’s possible they’re trying to cover their tracks.”
Yeonjun shook his head, the doubt gnawing at him. “Or maybe I’m just hallucinating again. It wouldn’t be the first time, Soobin. I did it a lot during the first killing spree—seeing things that weren’t there, hearing voices. What if it’s happening again?”
Soobin reached out, placing a comforting hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot, Yeonjun. It’s normal to feel this way after everything you’ve experienced. But that doesn’t mean you’re imagining things.”
Yeonjun looked down, his thoughts racing. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted. “My mom thinks I should go to the police, but what’s the point? They’d just see an empty house and think I’m losing it.”
Soobin nodded thoughtfully. “I get that. It would be hard to explain something like this without any evidence. But Yeonjun, you can’t keep carrying this on your own. You need to talk to someone, even if it’s not the police.”
Yeonjun let out a shaky sigh. “I wish it was that easy. I keep thinking that maybe if I just ignore it, it’ll go away. But deep down, I know it won’t.”
Soobin’s eyes softened with understanding. “You don’t have to ignore it. And you don’t have to face it alone, either. We’re all in this together, remember? The Lakewood Six. We’ve survived before, and we’ll survive again.”
Yeonjun’s gaze shifted to Soobin, searching for reassurance in his friend’s steady eyes. “How do you do it?” he asked quietly. “How do you cope with everything, especially after… after what happened to your dad?”
Soobin’s expression faltered, a shadow passing over his face at the mention of his father, Sheriff Minho. He took a deep breath, his voice heavy with emotion. “I don’t know if I really do cope, Yeonjun. Some days, it feels like I’m just going through the motions, trying to keep it together. My dad was everything to me, and losing him… it tore me apart.”
Yeonjun felt a pang of guilt for bringing up such a painful topic, but Soobin continued, his tone softer now. “But I think what keeps me going is knowing that my dad would want me to live my life, not be consumed by grief. He wouldn’t want me to lose myself in all of this darkness.”
Yeonjun nodded slowly, absorbing Soobin’s words. “I wish I could be as strong as you.”
“You are strong,” Soobin said firmly. “You’ve survived so much already, Yeonjun. And you’re still here, still fighting. That takes strength. But you don’t have to carry this burden alone. Lean on your friends, on your mom. We’re here for you.”
Yeonjun felt a lump form in his throat, a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. “Thank you, Soobin. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Soobin smiled gently, squeezing Yeonjun’s shoulder. “You don’t have to find out. We’ll get through this together, okay?”
Yeonjun nodded, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the darkness. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel completely alone. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to keep him going.
======================================================
Beomgyu sat on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at his phone screen. The ominous texts from the unknown number kept replaying in his mind like a broken record. His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door, followed by Jaehyun’s voice.
“Beomgyu, you in there?”
Beomgyu sighed, knowing he couldn’t avoid this conversation. “Yeah, come in.”
Jaehyun pushed the door open and stepped inside, a serious expression on his face. “I’ve got a lead,” he said without preamble.
Beomgyu looked up, his curiosity piqued despite the gnawing anxiety in his chest. “A lead on what?”
“The troll who’s been messing with you,” Jaehyun replied, sitting down next to him. “He goes by the name Eddie Krueger online. I know, the name’s ridiculous, but this guy might actually be onto something.”
Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, trying to find humor in the situation but failing. “Eddie Krueger? Seriously?”
Jaehyun smirked, though his eyes remained serious. “Yeah, I know, it sounds like a bad joke. But here’s the thing—Eddie claims he saw Hanbin’s accomplice.”
Beomgyu’s heart skipped a beat. He could feel the color drain from his face as he processed Jaehyun’s words. “Accomplice?” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Hanbin didn’t have an accomplice.”
“That’s what we thought,” Jaehyun said, leaning in slightly. “But Eddie’s been going on about how he saw someone with Hanbin around the time of the murders. I don’t know if he’s just some internet troll trying to stir up drama, but what if he’s telling the truth?”
Beomgyu’s mind raced, thoughts of the letters and the constant threats looming over him like a dark cloud. “Why would Hanbin need an accomplice? He was insane, but he didn’t seem like the type to share the spotlight.”
Jaehyun shrugged, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know, Beomgyu. Maybe Hanbin was just using this person, or maybe he didn’t want to get his hands dirty for some of the kills. Either way, Eddie says he knows something, and that’s enough for us to look into it.”
Beomgyu felt a cold sweat forming on the back of his neck. “What if this Eddie guy is just screwing with us? What if he’s part of the reason I’m being tormented?”
Jaehyun placed a reassuring hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder. “That’s a possibility, but we can’t afford to ignore this. If there’s even a chance that Hanbin had help, we need to find out who it was. This could explain why you’re still being targeted.”
Beomgyu nodded, though his mind was a whirlpool of fear and doubt. The thought of someone else being involved in the murders, someone who might still be out there, was almost too much to bear. “So what’s the plan?”
Jaehyun leaned back, his eyes sharp with determination. “We track down Eddie Krueger and get him to talk. If he’s lying, we’ll figure that out soon enough. But if he’s telling the truth… we might finally get some answers.”
Beomgyu swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “And what if he knows more than we want to hear?”
“Then we deal with it,” Jaehyun said firmly. “We’ve been through hell and back, Beomgyu. We’re not backing down now.”
Beomgyu took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. “Okay. Let’s find this Eddie Krueger and see what he knows.”
Jaehyun gave him a nod of approval, but there was an edge of uncertainty in his eyes. Beomgyu could tell that even Jaehyun wasn’t entirely convinced they were making the right move. But it was a lead, and in a town where secrets had a way of turning deadly, any lead was better than none.
As Jaehyun stood to leave, Beomgyu couldn’t shake the feeling that they were stepping into something far more dangerous than they realized. The letters, the threats, the possibility of an accomplice—it all pointed to a much darker truth than they were prepared to face.
And somewhere in the back of his mind, Beomgyu couldn’t help but wonder: What if Eddie Krueger wasn’t just some troll? What if he really did see something? What if, in trying to uncover the truth, they were about to unleash a new wave of terror in Lakewood?
Only time would tell, and Beomgyu wasn’t sure he was ready for the answers they might find.
======================================================
The morning sun filtered through the school’s windows, casting long shadows down the hallways. Yeonjun stood in front of his locker, mindlessly rearranging his books. His thoughts were a tangled mess, still reeling from the events of the night before at Troy James' house. He barely noticed Jaehyun approaching until his friend’s voice cut through the haze.
“Yeonjun, can we talk?”
Yeonjun glanced up, noting the seriousness in Jaehyun’s expression. “Sure, what’s up?”
Jaehyun leaned against the locker next to Yeonjun’s, crossing his arms. “I’m worried about you, man.”
Yeonjun’s heart skipped a beat. “Worried? About what?”
Jaehyun sighed, running a hand through his hair. “About last night. About everything, really. When we went to Troy’s house… you weren’t making any sense after we left.”
Yeonjun stiffened, his grip tightening on the edge of his locker door. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Jaehyun said carefully, “I didn’t see anyone fleeing the house besides you. I didn’t even go inside. You were the only one who did. But when you came back, it was like you’d seen a ghost or something.”
Yeonjun swallowed hard, his mind racing. “I did see someone, Jaehyun. There was someone there. I’m not making this up.”
Jaehyun’s eyes softened with concern. “I know you think you saw someone, but… Yeonjun, you’ve hallucinated before. Remember when you thought you saw your dad? And Gunwook, after he died? You were so sure they were there, but they weren’t.”
The words hit Yeonjun like a punch to the gut. He remembered those moments vividly—the crushing realization that his mind had conjured images of people who were long gone. It had been terrifying, and the fear that it was happening again sent a chill down his spine.
“I know,” Yeonjun admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “But this felt different. It felt real.”
Jaehyun hesitated, clearly struggling with what to say next. “I’m not saying you’re imagining things, Yeonjun. But what if your mind is playing tricks on you again? With everything that’s happened… the trauma, the stress… it’s possible, right?”
Yeonjun leaned back against the lockers, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to argue, to insist that what he’d seen was real, but doubt was creeping in, clouding his thoughts. What if Jaehyun was right? What if he was losing his grip on reality again?
“I don’t know,” Yeonjun murmured, staring at the floor. “I just don’t know anymore.”
Jaehyun placed a hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder, his touch grounding. “Whatever’s going on, we’ll figure it out together. But you need to take care of yourself, okay? If you start seeing things… if this keeps happening… you need to talk to someone. Promise me?”
Yeonjun nodded slowly, though the uncertainty still gnawed at him. “Yeah… I promise.”
Jaehyun gave him a small, reassuring smile. “Good. We’ll get through this, Yeonjun. Just don’t shut me out, okay?”
“Okay,” Yeonjun replied, trying to muster a smile in return. But as Jaehyun walked away, the weight of his doubts settled heavily on his shoulders.
The hallway buzzed with the usual morning chatter as students shuffled to their classes. Sunoo and Beomgyu approached Yeonjun and Jaehyun near the lockers, their faces lit up with relief at finding their friends.
“There you guys are,” Sunoo said, a smile tugging at his lips. “We were looking for you.”
Beomgyu, leaning casually against the lockers, nodded. “Yeah, we thought you might’ve ditched us.”
Jaehyun smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. “As if we’d ditch the famous Lakewood Six.”
At that, Jaehyun raised his hands in a mock cheer. “The Lakewood Six—survivors extraordinaire! Though right now, we’re more like the Lakewood Five…”
The words hung in the air, and everyone paused, their smiles fading as the realization dawned on them. They exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of Jaehyun’s comment sinking in.
“Wait,” Yeonjun said slowly, his brows furrowing. “Where’s Sunghoon?”
Sunoo’s smile vanished, replaced by a look of confusion. “I… I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him in a couple of days.”
Beomgyu’s expression darkened, concern flashing in his eyes. “Neither have I. I thought he was just busy or something.”
Jaehyun’s smirk disappeared, replaced by a frown. “Are you telling me none of us have had any contact with him in two days?”
Silence fell over the group, each of them processing the unsettling fact that they had all assumed someone else was in touch with Sunghoon. But now, standing there together, it became painfully clear that no one had heard from him in days.
“Has anyone tried calling or texting him?” Yeonjun asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice.
Sunoo quickly pulled out his phone, his fingers flying over the screen as he sent a message to Sunghoon. He waited a few moments, eyes fixed on the screen, but no reply came. He tried calling, pressing the phone to his ear, but after several rings, it went to voicemail.
“No answer,” Sunoo said, biting his lip. “That’s… weird.”
Beomgyu’s jaw clenched, his usual carefree demeanor replaced by a serious edge. “Something’s not right. Sunghoon wouldn’t just disappear without telling anyone.”
Yeonjun felt a knot of anxiety forming in his stomach. “We need to find him. What if something’s happened?”
Jaehyun nodded, his expression grim. “Agreed. We should check his place, maybe ask around. Someone’s got to know where he is.”
The group exchanged determined glances, the unspoken understanding passing between them. They had been through hell together, and they weren’t about to let anything happen to one of their own.
As they made their way down the hall, the realization that Sunghoon had been missing for two days gnawed at them. The easy camaraderie of just moments ago had evaporated, replaced by a growing sense of dread.
They had survived one nightmare, but as they searched for Sunghoon, it became clear that another one might be lurking just around the corner.
======================================================
As the group hurried down the hallway, the urgency of finding Sunghoon gnawing at them, Beomgyu’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced down, the screen lighting up with a new message from an unknown number. His heart skipped a beat as he read the text:
Miss me? You should’ve seen the look on your face. Too bad you’re next.
Beomgyu’s blood ran cold, and he instinctively looked around the bustling hallway. His gaze landed on Yuna, one of the pranksters from the movie theater. She was leaning casually against a locker, phone in hand, a small smirk playing on her lips as she typed away.
For a moment, everything seemed to click in Beomgyu’s mind. Of course, it was Yuna. She’d been one of the masterminds behind the stunt that nearly gave him a heart attack. It made sense she’d be the one messing with him now, continuing the sick joke.
Without thinking, Beomgyu walked over to her, his steps purposeful, tension tightening his jaw. He stopped in front of her, glaring down as she glanced up, seemingly unfazed by his sudden appearance.
“Yuna,” Beomgyu said, his voice low and edged with anger. “Is this funny to you? Sending me these texts?”
Yuna blinked, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What texts?”
“The ones you just sent,” Beomgyu snapped, holding up his phone. “You’re not as clever as you think. I know it’s you.”
Yuna stared at the screen, then back at Beomgyu, before bursting into laughter. “You think I’m sending you texts? Seriously?”
Beomgyu’s anger flared. “You were texting just now. Don’t try to deny it.”
“Yeah, I was texting,” Yuna retorted, rolling her eyes. “But I wasn’t texting you, genius. I was messaging my boyfriend. See?”
She shoved her phone into his face, showing him the text thread. Sure enough, it was a conversation between her and someone named *Brandon* with plenty of heart emojis and flirty banter.
Beomgyu’s stomach twisted with embarrassment, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. Yuna wasn’t the one messing with him—she was just living her life, completely unaware of the paranoia that had gripped him.
“Oh,” Beomgyu muttered, the anger draining from him, leaving behind a hollow feeling. “My bad, I thought…”
“You thought wrong,” Yuna interrupted, her tone sharp. “Look, whatever you’re dealing with, it’s not my problem. Maybe you should figure out who’s actually behind it before accusing people.”
Beomgyu’s shoulders slumped, a wave of frustration and fear washing over him. He mumbled an apology, turning away from Yuna and walking back to his friends, who had noticed the exchange and were now looking at him with concern.
“What was that about?” Sunoo asked, frowning.
“Nothing,” Beomgyu muttered, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “Just… nothing.”
But it wasn’t nothing. The threat in the text was real, and Yuna wasn’t the one behind it. That meant someone else was out there, someone who knew about him and wasn’t afraid to toy with his mind. The mystery of who was tormenting him only deepened, and as Beomgyu rejoined the group, the weight of Sunghoon’s absence grew heavier on his shoulders.
There was no time to ponder over his encounter with Yuna, no time to unravel the threads of fear that had tightened around him. They had a friend to find—and Beomgyu couldn’t shake the feeling that whoever was messing with him might have something to do with Sunghoon’s disappearance.
======================================================
Yeonjun stood outside the school library, his thoughts a chaotic mess. The day had been overwhelming—between the eerie texts Beomgyu received and the gnawing worry about Sunghoon's disappearance, he could barely think straight. But as he glanced down at his phone, a sinking feeling hit him. He’d completely forgotten about his tutoring session with Zhang Hao.
With a sigh, Yeonjun pushed open the library door, his footsteps echoing through the quiet space. He spotted Zhang Hao sitting at one of the tables near the back, his head buried in a thick textbook. Hesitating for a moment, Yeonjun made his way over, guilt already bubbling up inside him.
“Hey, Zhang Hao,” Yeonjun greeted, his voice low. “I’m really sorry I missed our session. It’s been a crazy day.”
Zhang Hao looked up from his book, his expression unreadable. There was a brief pause before he closed the textbook and leaned back in his chair, eyeing Yeonjun with a mix of curiosity and mild annoyance.
“You’re late,” Zhang Hao said, his tone measured. “But I figured you might be. You’ve got a lot going on, right?”
Yeonjun nodded, feeling the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on him. “Yeah, I do. It’s just… a lot to handle right now.”
Zhang Hao studied him for a moment longer, his gaze sharp yet understanding. “It’s okay. I understand what it’s like to go through tough times. We all have our struggles, right?”
Yeonjun felt a pang of guilt, realizing how much he had been wrapped up in his own problems. He barely knew Zhang Hao, but it was clear that the new student had his own burdens to bear. Yeonjun couldn’t help but wonder what kind of pain Zhang Hao was alluding to, but he didn’t want to pry, especially after letting him down.
“I appreciate that,” Yeonjun replied softly. “I really do. I’ll make it up to you—I promise.”
Zhang Hao gave a small smile, the tension in his expression easing just a bit. “No worries. We can reschedule. Just let me know when you’re ready.”
“Thanks,” Yeonjun said, grateful for Zhang Hao’s understanding. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
As they wrapped up their brief conversation, Yeonjun couldn’t shake the feeling that Zhang Hao was someone he could trust, someone who might actually understand the darkness that had been clouding his life. But as he left the library, his thoughts drifted back to the larger issues at hand—the mysterious texts, Sunghoon’s disappearance, and the eerie feeling that something terrible was just around the corner.
For now, he had to keep it together. But with each passing day, it was getting harder to do so.
======================================================
Psychology class was in full swing, with Ms. Sooyoung at the front of the room, her voice carrying a subtle intensity as she discussed the topic for the day: zebras and nightmares. The students were supposed to be taking notes, but Yeonjun's mind was elsewhere, his thoughts consumed by the unsettling events of the past few days.
Seated next to him, Sunoo was equally distracted, though for different reasons. He kept glancing at his phone, the screen dark and silent, a clear sign that Sunghoon still hadn’t responded to any of his texts.
Yeonjun leaned in, whispering, “Have you heard anything from Sunghoon yet?”
Sunoo sighed, shaking his head. “Nothing. He’s been completely MIA. I’m starting to get worried, you know?”
Yeonjun nodded, sharing in the concern. “It’s not like him to just disappear like this.”
Sunoo glanced around the classroom, making sure no one was paying attention, then pulled out his phone again. “Maybe he’s just ignoring us for fun. If anyone can get a response from him, it’s me. Watch this.”
Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, curious as Sunoo quickly typed out a message. “What are you going to say?”
With a mischievous grin, Sunoo typed, “If you don’t respond in five minutes, I’m sending you a butt pic.” He hit send and smirked at Yeonjun. “If that doesn’t get his attention, I don’t know what will.”
Yeonjun couldn’t help but chuckle, though the humor was tinged with worry. “You’re really going all out, huh?”
Before Sunoo could respond, Ms. Sooyoung’s voice cut through their conversation, her gaze zeroing in on the two boys. “Yeonjun, Sunoo—would you like to share with the class what’s so fascinating?”
The room fell silent, all eyes turning to them. Yeonjun’s heart skipped a beat, but Sunoo, ever the quick thinker, didn’t miss a beat.
“Well, Ms. Sooyoung,” Sunoo began, a playful grin spreading across his face, “we were just discussing how zebras probably don’t have nightmares about lions chasing them, because they’re too busy having anxiety dreams about their stripes not being symmetrical.”
A few students snickered, and Ms. Sooyoung’s stern expression softened slightly, though she didn’t seem entirely amused. “Interesting theory, Sunoo. But let’s stick to the topic at hand, shall we?”
Before Ms. Sooyoung could continue, Zhang Hao raised his hand enthusiastically. “Actually, I think the reason zebras might have nightmares isn’t because of the lions themselves, but the constant threat they represent. It’s like how people’s minds fixate on their fears, even when they’re not in immediate danger.”
Jaehyun, who had been quietly observing, quickly jumped in. “Exactly! It’s all about the brain’s response to stress and fear. The nightmares are a way of processing those intense emotions, even if the danger isn’t present in that exact moment.”
Ms. Sooyoung smiled, clearly pleased with the answers. “Very good, Zhang Hao, Jaehyun. Nightmares often stem from our subconscious fears, a way for our minds to deal with unresolved stress or trauma. It’s the brain’s way of preparing us for potential threats, even when we’re safe.”
Sunoo shot Yeonjun a look, as if to say, *See, I can joke and still be on top of things.* Yeonjun gave a small smile in return, but the worry in his eyes remained.
As Ms. Sooyoung continued with the lesson, Sunoo glanced at his phone again, hoping for a reply from Sunghoon. But the screen remained frustratingly silent, and an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.
Yeonjun, too, was struggling to focus. The idea of nightmares, of the mind's fixation on fear, felt all too familiar. His thoughts drifted back to the barn, to the mysterious hooded figure, and to the possibility that his own mind might be playing tricks on him once more.
But as much as he tried to shake off the feeling, he couldn’t escape the sense that something was terribly wrong. And deep down, he knew that Sunghoon’s silence was just the beginning.
======================================================
As the bell rang, signaling the end of Psychology class, students began to gather their things and shuffle out of the room. Yeonjun, however, lingered at his desk, his fingers brushing over the sticky note Ms. Sooyoung had passed him earlier. It was a simple note, just a brief message asking if he wanted to talk after class—no pressure, just an offer.
Yeonjun had been thinking about it throughout the entire class. Part of him wanted to take her up on the offer, to unload everything that had been weighing on his mind. But another part of him was hesitant, unsure if he was ready to open up to a teacher, even one as understanding as Ms. Sooyoung.
As the classroom emptied, Yeonjun finally stood up and approached Ms. Sooyoung’s desk, the sticky note clutched in his hand. She was busy organizing her papers, but she looked up and smiled warmly when she saw him.
“Yeonjun,” she said, her tone gentle. “How can I help you?”
Yeonjun hesitated for a moment, then handed her the sticky note. “I wanted to return this,” he said quietly, “and, um… I was wondering if your offer still stands? To talk, I mean.”
Ms. Sooyoung’s smile widened, and she nodded. “Of course, Yeonjun. I’m glad you’re interested. Do you have a time in mind?”
He nodded, swallowing the nervous lump in his throat. “There’s a coffee shop nearby, the one on Maple Street. I used to work there, actually. Could we meet there this evening?”
Ms. Sooyoung considered this, her expression thoughtful. “Maple Street? I know the place. That sounds like a good idea. How about 7 p.m.? Does that work for you?”
“Yeah, that works,” Yeonjun replied, a mix of relief and anxiety bubbling inside him. Meeting her at that coffee shop was going to be tough; it was filled with memories, both good and bad. He had spent countless hours there, serving customers, making friends, and trying to keep his life from unraveling. It was a place where he had felt safe—until everything changed.
Ms. Sooyoung seemed to pick up on his apprehension, her eyes softening with understanding. “I know this might not be easy for you, Yeonjun, but I’m here to listen. Whatever you want to talk about, we can work through it together.”
He managed a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Ms. Sooyoung. I’ll see you there.”
With that, he turned and left the classroom, his thoughts swirling as he made his way to his next class. The idea of going back to that coffee shop filled him with a strange sense of nostalgia, but also a deep, gnawing dread. So much had happened since he last stepped foot in that place. Going back now, especially to talk about everything that had happened, felt like opening a door to a part of his past he wasn’t sure he was ready to face.
But maybe that was exactly why he needed to go. If he wanted to move forward, he had to confront the ghosts that had been haunting him, both in his dreams and in his waking life.
The rest of the day passed in a blur, with Yeonjun barely paying attention to his classes. His thoughts kept drifting back to the coffee shop, to what he might say when he met Ms. Sooyoung later that evening. As the hours ticked by, he felt the weight of his decision pressing down on him, but he knew he couldn’t back out now.
Finally, when the school day ended, Yeonjun found himself standing outside the familiar coffee shop, its warm, inviting glow contrasting with the unease twisting in his gut. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, the scent of freshly brewed coffee immediately hitting his senses.
The place hadn’t changed much. The same cozy booths lined the walls, the same chalkboard menu hung above the counter. It was quieter than he remembered, with only a few patrons scattered around, sipping their drinks and chatting softly.
He spotted Ms. Sooyoung sitting at a table near the back, a steaming cup of tea in front of her. She looked up and smiled when she saw him, waving him over.
Yeonjun walked over and slid into the seat across from her, feeling a strange mix of comfort and discomfort at being back in this place. It was almost like stepping into a time capsule, a snapshot of his life before everything had gone wrong.
“Thank you for meeting me here,” Yeonjun said, trying to steady his voice. “I know it’s kind of a weird spot, but…”
“It’s not weird at all,” Ms. Sooyoung replied, her tone reassuring. “I’m glad you suggested it. This place is clearly important to you.”
He nodded, glancing around the room. “Yeah… it is. Or it was. I spent a lot of time here, trying to figure things out. It’s kind of strange being back.”
Ms. Sooyoung took a sip of her tea, her eyes never leaving his. “I understand. Sometimes going back to a place that holds so many memories can be difficult, but it can also be healing. So, Yeonjun, what’s on your mind?”
Yeonjun hesitated, the words he wanted to say caught in his throat. But as he looked into Ms. Sooyoung’s kind eyes, he felt a sense of safety, like he could finally let his guard down, even just a little.
“I’ve been struggling,” he began slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Ever since… everything that happened, I’ve been having nightmares, flashbacks. And lately, I’ve been seeing things, like… I don’t even know if they’re real.”
Ms. Sooyoung nodded, listening intently. “That’s understandable, given everything you’ve been through. Trauma has a way of lingering in our minds, affecting how we see the world.”
Yeonjun swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the edge of the table. “I went back to that barn, the one from my nightmares. And when I was there, I saw something—someone, maybe. But when I tried to show Jaehyun, it was gone. It’s like I’m losing my grip on what’s real and what isn’t.”
Ms. Sooyoung leaned in slightly, her expression filled with empathy. “Yeonjun, it’s not uncommon to feel this way after experiencing something so traumatic. Your mind is trying to process everything, but it’s taking time. It’s okay to feel confused, to question what you’re seeing.”
“But what if it’s not just that?” Yeonjun’s voice trembled, his fear and uncertainty spilling over. “What if I’m really losing it? What if I’m going crazy?”
Ms. Sooyoung reached across the table, placing a comforting hand on his. “You’re not going crazy, Yeonjun. You’re going through something incredibly difficult, and it’s okay to ask for help. What you’re experiencing doesn’t define you. It’s just part of the journey you’re on, and you don’t have to go through it alone.”
Yeonjun felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them away, taking a deep breath. “I just want to feel normal again. I want all of this to be over.”
“I know you do,” Ms. Sooyoung said softly. “And you will. But it’s going to take time, and that’s okay. You’ve already shown so much strength by coming here, by talking to me. That’s the first step.”
Yeonjun nodded, a small, fragile smile forming on his lips. “Thank you, Ms. Sooyoung. I’m glad I decided to talk to you.”
She returned his smile, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. “You’re always welcome to talk, Yeonjun. Whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”
As they continued their conversation, the tension that had been weighing on Yeonjun’s shoulders began to ease, just a little. The coffee shop, with all its memories, felt a little less daunting, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe things could get better. Maybe, with the right support, he could find his way back to some semblance of normalcy. And maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as alone as he thought.
======================================================
The next day, Yeonjun walked through the school’s crowded hallway, his mind still lingering on his conversation with Ms. Sooyoung. He felt lighter, but there was still a sense of unease gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. The echoes of his nightmares hadn’t fully faded, and neither had the unsettling experience at Troy James’ house. He tried to push it all to the back of his mind, focusing instead on the mundane task of getting to his next class.
As he turned the corner, Yeonjun nearly collided with a boy he didn’t recognize. The guy looked about his age, with an easygoing smile and sharp eyes that seemed to take in everything around him with keen interest. He wore a simple, stylish outfit—nothing too flashy, but just enough to stand out in the crowd of students rushing to their lockers and classrooms.
"Sorry about that," Yeonjun muttered, stepping aside to let the guy pass.
The boy grinned, not seeming at all bothered by the near collision. "No worries. It’s easy to get lost in a place like this, especially if you’re deep in thought."
Yeonjun nodded absently, about to continue on his way when the boy spoke again.
"You’re Yeonjun, right?"
Yeonjun paused, glancing back at him with a hint of surprise. "Yeah… Do I know you?"
The boy chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, we haven’t met before. I’m new here. Name’s Jiung." He extended his hand in a friendly gesture, and Yeonjun hesitated for a split second before shaking it.
"Nice to meet you," Yeonjun said, though he couldn’t help but feel a bit puzzled. "Are you new to Lakewood, or just the school?"
"New to the school," Jiung replied, his gaze wandering over the bustling hallway before landing back on Yeonjun. "But I’ve been hearing a lot about Lakewood, especially with all the upcoming festivities. Seems like an interesting place."
"Interesting" wasn’t exactly the word Yeonjun would use to describe Lakewood, but he kept that to himself. "Yeah, the town’s got a lot going on," he said instead. "You’ll see soon enough."
Jiung's smile widened, but there was something almost unreadable behind his eyes. "I’m looking forward to it. By the way, it’s hard not to know who you are, Yeonjun. Your name comes up a lot."
Yeonjun blinked, taken aback. "What do you mean?"
"Well, it’s a small town," Jiung said with a casual shrug. "And from what I’ve gathered, you’re kind of… well-known. People talk, you know? It’s like everyone knows your story before you even get the chance to tell it."
A chill ran down Yeonjun’s spine, but he tried to play it off with a small laugh. "Yeah, I guess that’s how it is around here."
Jiung's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, something curious flickering in his eyes before he finally nodded. "Yeah, anyway, I’m still figuring this place out. Maybe you could show me around sometime? You seem like the type who knows all the ins and outs."
Yeonjun wasn’t sure why, but something about Jiung's request made him uneasy. Maybe it was the way he seemed to already know so much about him, or perhaps it was the slight edge in his tone, as if he was probing for more than just directions. But he pushed the feeling aside and nodded.
"Sure, I guess. Just let me know when."
"Will do," Jiung said with a friendly nod. "See you around, Yeonjun."
As Jiung walked away, disappearing into the throng of students, Yeonjun couldn’t shake the strange feeling that had settled in his chest. He’d had more than his fair share of encounters with people who seemed to know more about him than they should, and something about Jiung felt… off. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he headed to his next class. Maybe he was just being paranoid, letting his past experiences color his perception of new people. After all, Jiung could just be a friendly guy, trying to make his way in a new school.
But as Yeonjun settled into his seat in class, he couldn’t help but glance at the empty chair next to him, wondering if Jiung was the kind of person who would end up knowing more than he let on.
======================================================
Sunoo entered the cozy coffee shop, the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the soft hum of conversation and clinking cups. He scanned the room and spotted his father, Mayor Taehyung, seated at a corner table. The mayor looked up, his face brightening with a warm smile as he saw his son approaching.
“Sunoo!” Taehyung called out, waving him over. “Glad you could make it. I’ve got us a table.”
Sunoo gave a distracted nod, sliding into the seat across from his father. “Hey, Dad.”
Taehyung wasted no time diving into the agenda he’d set for their meeting. “I’ve been thinking about the upcoming Lakewood festivities. I really believe that if you and I get involved, it could boost our standing in the community. People remember the ones who are actively participating in the town’s events, after all.”
Sunoo’s attention was clearly elsewhere. He fiddled with his coffee cup, glancing frequently at his phone, which lay face down on the table. “Yeah, sure, Dad. That sounds good.”
Noticing his son’s lack of enthusiasm, Taehyung’s brow furrowed slightly. “Everything okay, Sunoo? You seem a bit preoccupied.”
Sunoo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just… I’ve been trying to reach Sunghoon. He’s been out of touch for a couple of days now. I’m starting to get worried.”
Taehyung’s expression softened. “I understand. It’s tough when someone you care about goes missing. Have you tried calling him?”
“I’ve called and texted,” Sunoo said, frustration evident in his voice. “No response.”
“Maybe he’s just busy or had something come up,” Taehyung suggested, trying to offer comfort. “But if it helps, I can also try reaching him.”
Sunoo gave a slight nod, still not fully convinced. “Thanks, Dad. I just hope he’s okay.”
As their conversation continued, Taehyung took out his phone and dialed Sunghoon’s number. The phone rang several times before it went to voicemail. “Hi, Sunghoon, this is Mayor Taehyung. I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. Sunoo and I have been trying to reach you. Please give us a call back when you can. Hope everything’s alright.”
Hanging up, Taehyung turned back to Sunoo. “Left him a voicemail. Hopefully, he’ll get back to us soon.”
Sunoo forced a small smile, though his worry was still palpable. “Thanks, Dad. I hope so too.”
After finishing their coffee, Sunoo and Taehyung stood up, and Sunoo prepared to leave. “I’ve got to get back to school,” Sunoo said. “Let’s talk more about the festivities later?”
“Of course,” Taehyung said, nodding. “Take care, Son. And remember, if you need anything, just let me know.”
As Sunoo headed out of the coffee shop, he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. The possibility that something might have happened to Sunghoon lingered heavily on his mind, and the thought of his father’s efforts to boost their public image seemed increasingly insignificant compared to his worry for his friend.
======================================================
Soobin paced nervously in the living room, glancing every few seconds at the clock. He was halfway through cleaning up from the party when Sheriff Jiwoong walked in, causing Soobin to straighten up in surprise.
“Sheriff Jiwoong!” Soobin greeted, his voice tinged with both surprise and curiosity. “What brings you here?”
Jiwoong offered a reassuring smile. “Soobin, I came by to offer my condolences for your father’s death. It’s a tough time, and I just wanted to check in.”
Soobin nodded, appreciating the gesture. “Thank you, Sheriff. It means a lot.”
As if on cue, Soobin’s Aunt Yuri entered the room, her presence shifting the atmosphere slightly. “Soobin, I didn’t expect to see you here, Sheriff,” Yuri said, her tone warm but her eyes scanning the cluttered room.
Jiwoong nodded politely. “Yuri, it’s good to see you. I was just offering my condolences to Soobin.”
Yuri gave a small, appreciative smile before her gaze landed on Soobin with a hint of concern. “Soobin, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your living situation. I know I don’t check in as often as I should, but with your father gone, I’m afraid things are becoming complicated.”
Soobin’s face fell slightly. “What do you mean?”
“Since you’re still a minor,” Yuri explained gently, “if your living situation isn’t resolved soon, you might have to move to Atlanta to stay with another relative or in foster care.”
Soobin’s heart sank at the thought. “But I’m doing okay here...”
Yuri’s tone softened. “I know, but the authorities are concerned, and we have to make sure everything is arranged properly. It’s not just about you; it’s about ensuring you’re in a stable environment.”
Jiwoong nodded in agreement. “It’s important to handle these things correctly, Soobin. If you need any assistance, don’t hesitate to reach out.”
As Jiwoong left, Yuri’s demeanor changed slightly. Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed the room littered with empty beer containers. “Soobin, what on earth is all this? You had a party without proper supervision?”
Soobin sighed, trying to keep his frustration in check. “It was just a small gathering with friends. I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”
Yuri’s tone grew stern. “You’re only 17, Soobin. This isn’t acceptable. You need to take responsibility for your living space, especially if there’s a chance you might be moving.”
Feeling overwhelmed, Soobin took out his phone and dialed Yeonjun. When the call connected, his voice was heavy with concern. “Yeonjun, I’ve got some bad news. My aunt says I might have to move to Atlanta if things don’t get sorted out soon. I’m really worried.”
Yeonjun’s voice was soothing but filled with concern. “I’m sorry, Soobin. That’s really tough. Let’s talk more about it when you have time. We’ll figure something out.”
After ending the call with Soobin, Yeonjun sat down, feeling a pang of frustration. He dialed his mom, Tiffany, knowing that sharing this kind of news with her would be difficult.
“Mom, I need to talk to you about Soobin,” Yeonjun started, his voice weary. “He might have to move to Atlanta because of his living situation. I’m really worried about him.”
Tiffany’s voice came through, tinged with confusion. “Moving to Atlanta? Why would that be necessary?”
Yeonjun explained briefly, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation. “It’s because of his age and the current circ*mstances. His aunt can’t keep him here, and they’re looking into other options. I don’t think you really understand how hard this is for him.”
Tiffany’s voice softened, but there was still a hint of uncertainty. “I see. I suppose I don’t fully grasp the situation. But if you’re worried, we should try to support him in any way we can.”
Yeonjun sighed, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. “Thanks, Mom. I just hope things can work out for the best.”
With that, Yeonjun hung up, his mind still heavy with the worry for his friend.
======================================================
Sunoo walked into the police station, determination set in his features. He needed to report Sunghoon’s disappearance, and it felt like the right time to take action. As he approached the front desk, he saw Sheriff Jiwoong, who was engrossed in some paperwork. Sunoo hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and approached.
“Sheriff Jiwoong,” Sunoo began, his voice wavering slightly, “I need to report that my boyfriend, Sunghoon, has been missing for two days. I’m really worried about him.”
Jiwoong looked up, his face a mix of concern and curiosity. “Sunghoon? Ah, yes, one of the Lakewood Six. I’ve been meaning to touch base with all of you. Let’s take this to my office.”
They walked to Jiwoong’s office, and once inside, Jiwoong gestured for Sunoo to take a seat. “Now, tell me everything you know about Sunghoon’s recent activities. Has he been acting unusual lately?”
Sunoo shook his head. “Not really. He was supposed to meet me two nights ago, but he never showed. I’ve tried calling him and texting, but there’s no response.”
Jiwoong nodded thoughtfully, then leaned back in his chair. “You know, Sunghoon’s disappearance is concerning. I’ve been keeping tabs on all of you, trying to assess the situation.”
Sunoo’s brow furrowed. “Assess? How?”
Jiwoong’s gaze was steady. “I’ve been ranking you all by how much you were impacted by the attacks and how much your stories affect others. It helps me understand the dynamics at play.”
Sunoo raised an eyebrow. “And where do I fit into your ranking?”
Jiwoong’s expression was neutral. “You’re ranked 4th at best. You’ve certainly been affected, but you don’t seem to have as many visible scars from the knife attacks compared to others.”
Sunoo’s face tightened. “And who’s above me?”
Jiwoong leaned forward, his eyes sharp. “Jaehyun is 3rd. He’s been very vocal about his experiences, and his podcast has brought a lot of attention to the case. His story resonates strongly with people.”
Sunoo felt a pang of frustration but tried to remain composed. “And who’s ranked higher than Jaehyun?”
Jiwoong gave a small, knowing smile. “That’s information I’m not ready to disclose just yet. But I can assure you that every story, every person, plays a crucial role in understanding what happened here.”
Sunoo took a deep breath, trying to process Jiwoong’s words. “So, what happens now? What are you going to do about Sunghoon?”
Jiwoong’s tone grew serious. “We’ll initiate a search and check any leads we might have. I’ll personally ensure that we put every resource we have into finding him. The more information we gather, the better our chances of locating him.”
Sunoo nodded, feeling a mix of relief and continued anxiety. “Thank you, Sheriff. I just hope we can find him soon.”
Jiwoong gave a reassuring nod. “We’ll do everything we can. In the meantime, stay alert and keep us updated with any new information.”
As Sunoo left the station, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in his gut. The Sheriff’s rankings and assessments added another layer of complexity to an already tense situation. But for now, his focus was clear—find Sunghoon, and hope for the best.
Sunoo stepped out of the police station, feeling a twinge of hope despite the earlier tension. The thought of Sunghoon being missing weighed heavily on him. As he walked toward his car, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, Sunoo saw a text from Sunghoon, asking for a picture. His heart skipped a beat.
“Sunghoon?” Sunoo whispered to himself, glancing around to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. He quickly pulled up his messaging app and began typing a reply, his fingers trembling with excitement.
“I’ve been so worried about you. Where are you? Can we meet?”
He hit send, his heart racing as he waited for a response. Before he could even finish processing the relief of getting a text from Sunghoon, his phone buzzed again. This time, the message was more than just text—it was a photo.
Sunoo opened the image and was met with a familiar setting. It was a picture of Sunghoon’s old bedroom with a note that read, “I’m sorry for the confusion. I wanted to surprise you. I will arrange for our meet later."
Relief washed over Sunoo, and a smile spread across his face. He texted back quickly, “Can’t wait to see you. I’ll be there.”
As he drove back to his apartment, Sunoo’s thoughts were consumed by the idea of reuniting with Sunghoon. He tried to push aside the doubts that had been creeping in, focusing on the positive message he’d just received.
======================================================
The sun was setting as Soobin, Yuri, and Jiung stood in front of Yeonjun’s house. The evening air was filled with a tense anticipation as the trio waited for Yeonjun to answer the door.
Yeonjun opened the door and was momentarily taken aback by the sight. “Soobin? What’s going on?” he asked, stepping aside to let them in.
As they entered, Soobin’s gaze fell on Yeonjun with a mix of urgency and unease. “I need to talk to you,” Soobin said, his tone serious. He glanced at Yuri and Jiung, who stood quietly behind him. “These are my aunt Yuri and my cousin Jiung.”
Yeonjun nodded at them, trying to make sense of the situation. “Nice to meet you. What’s this about?”
Jiung stepped forward, offering a polite smile. “Hi, Yeonjun. We’ve been looking for a place to stay for Soobin, and you might be able to help us.”
Before Yeonjun could respond, Yuri added, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but considering the situation with his living arrangements, this could be our best option. We’re looking at all our options. Things in Georgia haven’t been easy, and after the recent events, this seemed like a good chance for a fresh start.”
Yeonjun nodded slowly, processing the information. “I understand. It’s been a lot lately. But there’s something I need to tell Soobin before it’s too late.”
Soobin looked at Yeonjun with concern. “What’s going on?”
As Soobin and Yeonjun stepped inside the house, Soobin looked at his friend with a mix of worry and determination. “What do you need to do, Yeonjun? And how can I help?”
Yeonjun led Soobin into the living room, the tension palpable. “I need to come to terms with the past and face some truths that I’ve been avoiding. And I need you to be there for me as I do that. It’s important to me that we confront this together.”
Yeonjun and Soobin drove silently under the darkened sky, the faint light of the moon reflecting off the lake as they approached the dock. The journey had been quiet, with only the soft hum of the engine filling the space between them. Both were lost in their thoughts, the weight of recent events hanging heavily in the air.
As they arrived at the dock, Yeonjun took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. The memory of the night when both Brandon and Hanbin were shot replayed in his mind—an endless loop of pain and confusion. He walked slowly to the edge of the dock, his eyes scanning the water as if seeking some form of closure or redemption.
The water was eerily calm, the surface reflecting the starlight in a tranquil shimmer. Yeonjun leaned against the railing, his gaze fixed on the dark expanse. The cold breeze brushed against his face, and he closed his eyes, trying to push away the haunting images that had plagued him.
"Soobin," Yeonjun's voice was barely a whisper. "Do you ever feel like you’re just stuck in a bad dream?"
Soobin, standing beside him, placed a comforting hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder. "Sometimes. But you’re not alone in this. Whatever you’re going through, I’m here with you."
Yeonjun opened his eyes, his heart racing as he spotted a shadowy figure standing in the grass nearby. The figure was still, almost blending into the darkness. A cold shiver ran down Yeonjun’s spine as he tried to make out any distinguishing features.
He felt a surge of panic but fought to remain calm. He closed his eyes again, taking deep, steadying breaths. After a moment, he opened them once more, and the figure was gone. The grass was empty, the shadowy presence vanished as if it had never been there.
Yeonjun exhaled deeply, feeling an unexpected sense of relief wash over him. "I thought I saw someone… but it was just my mind playing tricks on me."
Soobin looked at Yeonjun with concern but said nothing, simply offering a reassuring smile. "You’re getting better at handling these moments. You’re stronger than you realize."
Yeonjun turned to Soobin, gratitude evident in his eyes. "I think I’m finally starting to feel in control of these hallucinations. It’s like I can finally see things for what they are."
Soobin’s smile widened, a mixture of relief and affection in his gaze. "I’m glad you’re feeling better. You deserve to be at peace with yourself."
Yeonjun took Soobin’s hand, his own trembling slightly. "I want to move forward with us, Soobin. I feel like I’m ready to be close to you again, to share everything we’ve been through."
Soobin’s expression softened, his eyes full of warmth. "I’m here for you, Yeonjun. Whenever you’re ready, I’m with you."
With newfound resolve, Yeonjun leaned in, their faces close, as they shared a tender kiss. It was a moment of deep connection and understanding, the darkness of the past slowly being replaced by the light of their bond.
As they held each other close, Yeonjun felt a renewed sense of hope. The night at the dock, though fraught with memories, had brought him a sense of clarity. He was ready to embrace the future, with Soobin by his side, facing whatever came next together.
======================================================
Jaehyun walked into the Crescent Palms, a modest hotel that had seen better days. The lobby was dimly lit, and the faint hum of the air conditioning filled the quiet space. Behind the front desk sat Eddie, a young man with an unassuming demeanor and a slightly distracted look in his eyes. Jaehyun approached, determined to get some answers.
“Hi, I’m Jaehyun,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m here to talk about Hanbin’s accomplice.”
Eddie shook his hand with a nod. “Yeah, I’ve heard about you. Hanbin did stay here a few times. What do you want to know?”
“I’m looking for any information you might have about his accomplice,” Jaehyun said, leaning in slightly. “Anything you noticed.”
Eddie glanced around nervously, his gaze shifting to the side. “Well, I saw someone with Hanbin. It was a male. That’s all I know.”
Jaehyun’s eyes widened slightly. “Can you describe him?”
Before Eddie could respond, his phone buzzed on the desk. He glanced at the screen and his face went pale. “I—I need to take this,” he said hurriedly, and picked up the phone. “Hello?”
On the other end, Beomgyu’s voice was low and menacing. “Eddie, I see you’re having a little chat. You don’t need to tell Jaehyun anything about the accomplice.”
Eddie’s eyes darted to Jaehyun, who looked increasingly confused. “Who is this?”
“Just a concerned friend,” Beomgyu replied. “And I suggest you keep your mouth shut. If you know what’s good for you.”
Eddie’s hands shook as he listened, his face draining of color. “Okay, okay. I won’t say anything.”
He quickly ended the call and turned back to Jaehyun, a forced smile on his lips. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give you any more information. I—I just don’t have anything else.”
Jaehyun’s brows furrowed in frustration. “But you said you saw someone. You were about to describe him.”
Eddie shook his head, backing away slightly. “I’m sorry, but I really can’t help you. I’ve said all I can. However, you need to know that Hanbin might have a storage unit somewhere. I saw him quite a few times moving in and out with suspicious items.”
Jaehyun frowned, sensing that something was amiss. “Alright, if that’s all you can give me, I’ll have to look elsewhere.”
Eddie nodded quickly, relief evident in his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Jaehyun turned to leave, feeling a mixture of disappointment and unease. As he walked out of the hotel, he glanced back, catching a fleeting glimpse of Beomgyu watching from the steps. The encounter had left him more determined than ever to uncover the truth, but also wary of the dangerous web of deception that seemed to be closing in around him.
Jaehyun was making his way back to the parking lot when he saw Beomgyu leaning casually against his car, eyes scanning the surroundings. The sight of Beomgyu made Jaehyun stop in his tracks, momentarily surprised. He had been expecting to return to his car alone.
“Beomgyu,” Jaehyun called out, striding over. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Beomgyu pushed himself off the car and greeted Jaehyun with a slight smile. “Hey, Jaehyun. What’s up?”
“I just had a meeting with Eddie,” Jaehyun said, his expression a mix of frustration and determination. “He was more helpful than I expected. But he was also a bit skittish.”
Beomgyu’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his tone light. “Oh? What did he say?”
“He confirmed that Hanbin had an accomplice, but he wouldn’t give me a description,” Jaehyun explained, pausing to gauge Beomgyu’s reaction. “He did mention a storage unit Hanbin might have had, though. Something that the police might not know about.”
Beomgyu’s initial relief faded into a serious expression. He studied Jaehyun intently, his thoughts racing. “A storage unit, you say? That’s new information. What kind of storage unit?”
Jaehyun shrugged. “Eddie didn’t give specifics, just that it’s a place Hanbin used. I’m guessing it could be linked to some of the stuff Hanbin was involved with.”
Beomgyu’s mind churned over the possibility. “Alright, we should definitely look into that. If there’s a storage unit, it could hold some crucial evidence or even lead us to more answers.”
Jaehyun nodded. “Exactly. I’m planning to check it out. The police might not have a lead on it yet, so it could be our chance to find something important.”
Beomgyu took a deep breath, masking his growing anxiety. “I’ll help you with that. If Hanbin had a storage unit, we need to find it before anyone else does.”
Jaehyun looked at Beomgyu with a mix of relief and curiosity. “Thanks. I didn’t expect you to be so willing to help out.”
Beomgyu forced a reassuring smile. “I’m just as invested in solving this as you are. Plus, it might clear up some of the confusion about what’s really going on.”
Jaehyun glanced back toward the hotel, where Eddie had been. “We should get going. The sooner we find that storage unit, the better.”
Beomgyu nodded in agreement. “Lead the way.”
As they headed to their respective cars, Beomgyu’s mind was already racing with possible scenarios. The discovery of the storage unit could change everything, and he knew they had to act fast. He cast a final glance at the hotel, wondering what other secrets it might be hiding and how much more he could handle in this tangled web of deception.
======================================================
Late into the night, Beomgyu found himself parked a few blocks away from the dimly lit storage facility. The air was thick with the chill of early morning, and the quiet of the neighborhood was punctuated only by the occasional rustling of leaves. He glanced at his watch and then at the unassuming storage unit ahead.
With a deep breath, Beomgyu slipped out of his car, keeping a low profile as he approached the storage facility. His heart raced, each step feeling heavier than the last. He had managed to get the key to the storage unit from an anonymous source—someone who knew more than they let on.
He picked the lock with practiced ease, the metallic click echoing in the quiet night. The door creaked open, and Beomgyu slipped inside, the faint light from his flashlight slicing through the darkness.
The storage unit was packed with boxes and clutter, but it wasn’t the mundane that drew Beomgyu’s attention. Instead, it was the overpowering stench of decay that hit him first, mingling with the scent of tree-shaped air fresheners that did little to mask the odor.
Beomgyu cautiously moved deeper into the unit, his flashlight revealing the rows of air fresheners hanging from the ceiling and walls. The artificial scents did little to cover up the underlying smell of death. He wrinkled his nose, pushing forward, determined to find out what lay hidden in the shadows.
At the back of the unit, Beomgyu’s flashlight illuminated a grim scene: Sunghoon's lifeless body sprawled on the ground. The sight stopped him in his tracks. The once-vibrant young man now lay still, his face frozen in a final, pained expression.
Beomgyu’s breath caught in his throat as he approached the body. His flashlight swept over a message made from clippings of his own letters to Hanbin. The letters were painstakingly arranged to spell out a chilling message:
"See how I finished the job for you, Beomgyu?"
The cruel message seemed to taunt him, the implication that Sunghoon’s death was somehow a gift or completion of Hanbin’s vendetta. Beomgyu’s hands trembled as he tried to process the scene before him. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks: the killer was sending him a direct message, one that involved far more personal stakes.
As he stood there, the weight of the message sinking in, he heard a faint sound behind him. Beomgyu spun around, flashlight scanning the area, but there was no one there. The silence of the storage unit was now oppressive, filled only with the distant hum of the city and the echo of his own frantic heartbeat.
Chapter 13: Vacancy
Chapter Text
Beomgyu stared at the gruesome scene before him, his heart pounding in his chest. The stench of death was overwhelming, mixing with the artificial sweetness of the air fresheners that hung uselessly from every corner. Sunghoon’s body lay there, cold and lifeless, blood staining the concrete floor. But Beomgyu’s attention was fixated on the note—those clipped letters from his own correspondence with Hanbin, now arranged in a macabre message on Sunghoon’s chest.
"See how I finished the job for you, Beomgyu?"
The message was more than just a taunt—it was evidence, something that could incriminate him if the wrong person saw it. Panic surged through him as he realized what he had to do. Jaehyun was coming in the morning, and if he found that note, there would be questions—questions Beomgyu wasn’t prepared to answer.
He took a shaky breath and forced himself to move closer to the body. His hands trembled as he gingerly picked up the pieces of the note, the letters sticking slightly to the dried blood. The reality of what he was doing hit him with every piece he collected, but he pushed the thought away. There was no room for doubt or hesitation. This was about survival.
Once the last piece of the note was in his hand, Beomgyu quickly pulled out a small plastic bag from his pocket, the kind you’d use for snacks or spare change, and shoved the letters inside. He sealed the bag and slipped it into his backpack, his mind racing with the implications of what he had just done. He couldn’t let anyone see that note—especially Jaehyun. He needed to keep it hidden until he could figure out his next move.
With one last look at Sunghoon’s body, Beomgyu backed out of the storage unit, careful not to disturb anything else. The air outside was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere within the unit. He closed the door quietly behind him, feeling a sick sense of relief as the lock clicked into place.
The next morning came far too quickly. Beomgyu barely slept, his mind haunted by the images of Sunghoon and the message left behind. He sat on his bed, the bag with the note’s pieces clutched in his hand, when his phone rang. The screen lit up with Yeonjun’s name.
For a moment, Beomgyu considered not answering, but then he shook off the thought. If he ignored Yeonjun now, it would only raise suspicion. He took a deep breath and swiped to answer.
“Hey,” Beomgyu greeted, trying to keep his voice steady.
“Morning,” Yeonjun’s voice came through, light but tinged with an undertone of worry. “You okay? You sound… off.”
Beomgyu forced a chuckle, trying to sound casual. “Just tired. Didn’t sleep well.”
Yeonjun paused for a moment, then sighed. “Yeah, I get that. Everything’s been so crazy lately. I just wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re doing okay.”
Beomgyu’s grip tightened on the bag as he responded. “Yeah, I’m hanging in there. How about you?”
“Same, I guess,” Yeonjun said. “Hey, do you want to hang out later? Maybe grab some coffee? We haven’t really talked much lately.”
Beomgyu hesitated, the weight of the note in his hand reminding him of the danger he was in. “I, uh, I have something I need to take care of this morning. But maybe later?”
Yeonjun seemed to pick up on the hesitation in Beomgyu’s voice. “Yeah, sure. Just… let me know when you’re free, okay? And if you need to talk about anything, I’m here.”
“Thanks, Yeonjun. I’ll call you later,” Beomgyu replied, feeling a pang of guilt in his chest as he hung up.
As soon as the call ended, Beomgyu shoved the bag with the note’s pieces deep into his backpack. He had to act normal, pretend everything was fine. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was spiraling out of control, and he was just barely holding on.
He glanced at the clock. Jaehyun would be arriving at the storage unit soon. Beomgyu had to be there to meet him, to play his part in this twisted game. But the question lingered in his mind: how long could he keep up the charade before everything came crashing down?
======================================================
Beomgyu sat in his room, staring at the plastic bag hidden beneath his mattress. It had been hours since he’d nearly been caught with the evidence—the blood-stained letters from Sunghoon’s body. The adrenaline from the close call still hadn’t faded, leaving him on edge, his thoughts racing in a chaotic loop. He knew he had to stay sharp, but the rollercoaster of emotions he was riding was taking its toll.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand, dragging him back to the present. It was a notification from one of the many online forums he followed, but something about it made his heart skip a beat. The headline read: **Choi San, Father of Yeonjun, Returns to Lakewood After Years Away.**
Beomgyu’s hands shook slightly as he clicked on the link. The article was short, just a few paragraphs about how Choi San, once a prominent figure in Lakewood, had returned after a long absence. There were no details about why he left or why he was back, but that wasn’t what concerned Beomgyu. What really struck him was the timing—San’s return coinciding with the escalation of his stalker’s taunts and the discovery of Sunghoon’s body.
Could it be him? Beomgyu thought, his mind racing. Could San be the one behind all of this?
He quickly dismissed the idea, but the suspicion lingered, gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. San had always been a shadowy figure in Yeonjun’s life, someone who left a void that Tiffany, Yeonjun’s mom, could never quite fill. Beomgyu had heard stories, whispered rumors about San’s temper and his sudden departure from Lakewood. But nothing ever seemed solid, just fragments of a larger mystery that no one in town was willing to talk about.
The idea that San might be back, and possibly involved in the recent horrors, felt too coincidental to ignore. Beomgyu’s stomach twisted as he tried to piece together what little he knew. If San was behind this, what was his motive? And more importantly, how could Beomgyu prove it?
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his door. He quickly stuffed his phone under the pillow and called out, “Yeah?”
The door creaked open, and Jaehyun poked his head in. “Hey, you got a minute?”
Beomgyu nodded, trying to mask his anxiety. “Sure, what’s up?”
Jaehyun stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He had a serious expression on his face, one that Beomgyu had come to recognize as a sign that something was weighing heavily on his friend’s mind.
“I’ve been thinking about everything that’s been happening,” Jaehyun began, taking a seat on the edge of Beomgyu’s bed. “And I’m worried about you, man. I know you’ve been through a lot, but… this isn’t just about surviving anymore, is it?”
Beomgyu swallowed hard, avoiding Jaehyun’s gaze. “What do you mean?”
Jaehyun sighed. “I mean, you’ve been acting different lately. Like you’re carrying some huge burden that you can’t talk about. And then there’s this whole thing with Sunghoon… I just—”
“Stop,” Beomgyu cut him off, his voice sharper than he intended. He saw the hurt flash in Jaehyun’s eyes and immediately regretted his tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just… everything’s so messed up right now.”
Jaehyun nodded slowly, his expression softening. “I get it. But you don’t have to go through this alone. We’re all in this together, remember?”
Beomgyu managed a weak smile, though his mind was still racing. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”
They sat in silence for a moment before Jaehyun spoke again. “By the way, did you hear about Yeonjun’s dad?”
Beomgyu’s heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, I saw something online. He’s back in town, right?”
Jaehyun nodded. “It’s kind of weird, isn’t it? I mean, why now?”
Beomgyu shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Maybe he’s just trying to reconnect with Yeonjun or something.”
“Maybe,” Jaehyun said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “But it just feels… off. Like there’s more to it than that.”
Beomgyu didn’t respond, his mind still reeling with the possibility that San could be the one tormenting him. He needed more information, something concrete to either confirm or dispel his suspicions. But how could he get that without tipping anyone off?
Jaehyun sighed and stood up. “Well, I just wanted to check on you. Let me know if you need anything, okay? Get ready as well. We are going to the storage unit.”
“Will do,” Beomgyu replied, forcing another smile. “Thanks, Jaehyun.”
After Jaehyun left, Beomgyu lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His thoughts were a tangled mess, but one thing was becoming increasingly clear: he couldn’t afford to trust anyone right now—not even his closest friends. If San was behind this, Beomgyu needed to be smart, careful. He couldn’t let anyone else get hurt because of him.
And most importantly, he had to find out the truth before it was too late.
======================================================
The next morning, Beomgyu found himself back at the storage unit, this time with Jaehyun at his side. His heart pounded in his chest as they approached the rusted door, the memory of what he’d seen the night before still vivid in his mind. He hadn’t slept a wink, too busy replaying the scene over and over—Sunghoon’s lifeless body, the stench of decay, the incriminating note he’d barely managed to hide.
Jaehyun glanced over at Beomgyu as they reached the door. "You sure you want to do this? We could just tell the cops and let them handle it."
Beomgyu forced a smile, trying to keep his nerves from showing. "Yeah, I’m sure. Besides, you know they wouldn’t take us seriously without some proof."
Jaehyun nodded, and together they unlocked the unit and pulled the door open. Beomgyu braced himself for the sight—and smell—that he was sure would greet them. But as the door rolled up, his eyes widened in shock.
The storage unit was completely different. Gone were the tree-shaped air fresheners, the body, the blood. Instead, there were a few scattered pieces of junk—old furniture, a rusted bicycle, and some dusty boxes that looked like they hadn’t been touched in years.
“What the hell…?” Jaehyun muttered, stepping inside and scanning the unit.
Beomgyu stood frozen at the entrance, his mind racing. How was this possible? He had been here just hours ago, and now everything was gone, as if it had never been there in the first place. He felt a surge of relief but also a creeping sense of dread. Someone had been here, someone who knew exactly what they were doing.
"Well, this is… anticlimactic," Jaehyun said, walking over to one of the boxes and nudging it with his foot. "Are you sure this is the right unit?"
Beomgyu forced a laugh, though it sounded hollow. "Yeah, this is the one. I guess I was wrong about something being here."
Jaehyun looked around again, puzzled. "It’s just weird, you know? You were so sure…"
Beomgyu shrugged, trying to play it off. "Guess I just got spooked by all the rumors. You know how it is."
Jaehyun didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he wandered around the unit, poking through the junk with mild curiosity. Beomgyu stayed near the entrance, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He knew he couldn’t tell Jaehyun about his visit last night—about what he’d seen and done. It was too risky, and the less Jaehyun knew, the safer he’d be.
Just as Beomgyu started to think the coast was clear, something caught his eye. There, nestled in the corner of the unit, was a small, almost imperceptible glint. He squinted, moving closer, and his heart sank when he realized what it was.
A camera.
Beomgyu’s stomach dropped as he recognized the small, discreet lens embedded in the wall, nearly hidden among the clutter. It was aimed directly at the spot where Sunghoon’s body had been the night before. Beomgyu’s mind raced—how long had it been there? Had it captured everything?
"Hey, what’s this?" Jaehyun’s voice snapped Beomgyu back to reality. Jaehyun was already walking toward the camera, his expression turning from curiosity to suspicion as he got closer. "Why the hell is there a camera in here?"
Beomgyu’s throat went dry as he struggled to think of an explanation. "I… I don’t know. Maybe the owner put it there? To keep an eye on the place?"
Jaehyun frowned, studying the camera more closely. "Seems a little high-tech for a place like this. You think it’s been recording?"
Beomgyu forced himself to stay calm. "Could be. But if it was, it’s probably just some old footage. The place doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in ages."
Jaehyun looked back at him, his expression unreadable. "Maybe. But we should definitely find out who put this here."
Beomgyu nodded, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, definitely. Maybe we can talk to the manager or something."
Jaehyun seemed to accept that answer, though he didn’t take his eyes off the camera. Beomgyu could feel his heart pounding in his chest, each beat louder than the last. He knew he had to get out of there before Jaehyun started asking more questions—questions that Beomgyu wasn’t sure he could answer.
“Let’s get out of here,” Beomgyu suggested, trying to sound casual. “This place gives me the creeps.”
Jaehyun nodded, but his gaze lingered on the camera for a moment longer before he turned to follow Beomgyu out. As they walked back to the car, Beomgyu couldn’t shake the feeling that the camera had seen more than it should have—and that whoever was watching wouldn’t be satisfied with just one night’s worth of footage.
As they drove away from the storage unit, Beomgyu stared out the window, his mind a whirlwind of anxiety and fear. He had dodged a bullet today, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the truth came out. And when it did, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this dangerous game going without losing everything.
======================================================
Yeonjun sat at the breakfast table, trying to focus on the meal in front of him. The smell of freshly cooked bacon and eggs wafted through the air, but his appetite was nonexistent. His father, San, sat across from him, looking uncharacteristically solemn. There was an awkward tension hanging in the air, one that Yeonjun couldn’t shake.
“So… how’s school?” San asked, his voice hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure what to say.
Yeonjun shrugged, poking at his food with a fork. “It’s fine. Just… school.”
San nodded, his eyes drifting away as if he were searching for the right words. After a few moments of silence, he sighed. “Listen, Yeonjun, I know I’ve been gone for a long time. I’m sorry for leaving like I did. It wasn’t fair to you or your mom.”
Yeonjun looked up, his heart tightening at the mention of his mom. “Then why did you leave?” His voice came out sharper than he intended, the hurt and frustration bubbling to the surface.
San hesitated, avoiding Yeonjun’s gaze. “It’s complicated. There were things I had to take care of, things you wouldn’t understand.”
Yeonjun’s jaw clenched. “What’s so complicated that you couldn’t even tell us? You just left, no explanation, nothing.”
San finally met his son’s eyes, and there was a flicker of something—regret, maybe, or guilt. “I did what I thought was best at the time. Your mom and I… we didn’t see things the same way. I needed some time to figure things out.”
“That’s not an answer,” Yeonjun snapped, his frustration mounting. “You just left us. Do you know how hard it’s been for Mom? For me?”
San’s expression hardened slightly, and Yeonjun noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor. “Your mom has her own way of doing things,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of something Yeonjun couldn’t quite place. “She’s strong, independent. She didn’t need me around to hold her hand.”
Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
San shrugged, his voice casual but laced with something colder. “It means she’s always been good at making her own decisions, even if they weren’t always the best ones.”
Yeonjun’s heart sank. Was his dad throwing shade at his mom? It felt like a jab, subtle but stinging. “Don’t talk about her like that,” Yeonjun said, his voice low and warning. “You don’t get to criticize her after you abandoned us.”
San raised his hands defensively. “I’m not trying to criticize her, Yeonjun. I’m just saying… it wasn’t as simple as you think.”
“It doesn’t matter how complicated it was,” Yeonjun retorted, pushing his plate away. “You could’ve at least tried to explain instead of just disappearing.”
San sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be. But I’m here now, and I want to make things right.”
Yeonjun scoffed, standing up from the table. “You can’t just show up and expect everything to be okay. It doesn’t work like that.”
San looked up at him, a mix of sadness and frustration in his eyes. “I’m trying, Yeonjun. But you need to give me a chance.”
Yeonjun shook his head, the anger and hurt swirling inside him like a storm. “Maybe I don’t want to give you a chance.”
Without waiting for a response, Yeonjun turned and walked out of the kitchen, the sound of his father calling his name echoing in his ears. He grabbed his phone from the counter, his hands shaking as he dialed his mom’s number. The phone rang a few times before Tiffany’s voice came through the line.
“Yeonjun? What’s going on?”
“Why didn’t you tell me he was back?” Yeonjun demanded, his voice trembling with emotion.
Tiffany sighed on the other end. “I didn’t want to upset you. I thought it was something he should tell you himself.”
“Well, he didn’t tell me anything that makes sense!” Yeonjun snapped, pacing the hallway. “He’s just making excuses, and now he’s acting like you’re the reason he left!”
“What?” Tiffany’s voice was sharp, defensive. “What did he say?”
“Nothing specific, just… hints, like it’s your fault he left because you’re ‘too independent’ or something.” Yeonjun felt the anger rising in him again. “I don’t know. He’s just… he’s trying to make it sound like he had no choice.”
Tiffany was quiet for a moment before she spoke, her voice calm but firm. “Yeonjun, your father made his own decisions. Don’t let him make you think otherwise. We’ve been fine without him, and we’ll continue to be fine.”
“But it doesn’t feel fine,” Yeonjun admitted, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I just… I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“I know it’s confusing,” Tiffany said gently. “But you don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just focus on what’s important—taking care of yourself and not letting anyone make you feel guilty for things that aren’t your fault.”
Yeonjun nodded, though he knew she couldn’t see it. “Yeah… okay.”
“Call me if you need to talk, okay? I’m always here for you.”
“I will. Thanks, Mom.” Yeonjun ended the call, leaning back against the wall. His mind was a whirl of emotions—anger, confusion, sadness. He didn’t know what to think about his dad’s return, but one thing was clear: nothing was going to be as simple as he’d hoped.
======================================================
Sunoo leaned against his locker, scrolling through his phone with half-hearted interest. The halls buzzed with chatter about the upcoming Prince of the Lake contest, but it all felt distant to him, like a background noise he couldn’t quite tune into. Posters for the event were plastered everywhere, showcasing the smiling faces of the contestants—guys who were eager to claim the title, but Sunoo couldn’t care less.
“Hey, you seem out of it,” Zhang Hao’s voice broke through his thoughts. Sunoo looked up to see Zhang Hao approaching with his usual easygoing smile. “Not interested in the whole Prince of the Lake thing?”
Sunoo shrugged, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Not really. It’s just a popularity contest, right? Doesn’t seem like my kind of thing.”
Zhang Hao chuckled, leaning against the locker next to him. “Yeah, it’s not for everyone. But you know, it’s a big deal around here. The whole town gets into it.”
“Why? It’s not like it really means anything,” Sunoo replied, trying to hide the slight bitterness in his voice.
“I guess it’s just tradition,” Zhang Hao said, his tone more thoughtful. “People like having something to rally around, especially in a town like this.”
Sunoo nodded, though he still wasn’t convinced. “I guess… but I’m not exactly the rallying type.”
Zhang Hao glanced at him, his expression curious. “So what’s your type then? You don’t seem like the kind of guy who’d be into all this pageant stuff, but there’s gotta be something that catches your interest.”
Sunoo hesitated, not sure how much he wanted to share. But Zhang Hao had a way of making people feel at ease, so he shrugged and decided to be honest. “I don’t know. I guess I’m more into, like, real stuff. Things that matter.”
“Like Jaehyun?” Zhang Hao asked with a knowing smile, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.
Sunoo blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in the conversation. “Jaehyun? What do you mean?”
Zhang Hao laughed softly. “Come on, everyone knows you two are close. I’ve seen you guys hanging out a lot.”
Sunoo felt his cheeks warm slightly, but he tried to play it cool. “Yeah, we’re friends. He’s been through a lot, and I’m just trying to be there for him.”
“That’s cool of you,” Zhang Hao said, nodding in approval. “Jaehyun’s a good guy. He’s got a lot on his plate with everything that’s happened. I respect that.”
Sunoo tilted his head, curious now. “You seem to know a lot about him. Are you interested in Jaehyun?”
Zhang Hao’s smile softened, and he looked away for a moment, as if considering how much to say. “Maybe. He’s… interesting. There’s something about him that draws people in, you know? Like, he’s got this energy that’s hard to ignore.”
Sunoo nodded, understanding exactly what Zhang Hao meant. Jaehyun had a presence that was magnetic, even when he wasn’t trying. “Yeah, I get that. He’s been through so much, but he doesn’t let it stop him.”
“Exactly,” Zhang Hao agreed, his gaze turning more serious. “He’s strong in a way that’s different from other people. I admire that.”
Before Sunoo could respond, he felt a presence nearby and looked up to see Leehan approaching. There was something about the way Leehan moved—smooth, almost too smooth—that always put Sunoo on edge. He was charming, sure, with his easy smile and confident demeanor, but there was also something unsettling in his eyes, like he was always watching, always calculating.
“Hey, Sunoo,” Leehan greeted him, his voice warm but with an undertone that made Sunoo’s skin prickle. “You’re not getting into the Prince of the Lake hype?”
Sunoo shook his head, trying to keep his tone light. “Nah, not really my thing.”
Leehan’s smile widened, though his eyes didn’t quite match the friendliness of his expression. “That’s too bad. I think you’d do well. You’ve got that underdog appeal.”
Sunoo forced a smile, not entirely sure how to take the comment. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
Leehan leaned against the lockers, his gaze flicking between Sunoo and Zhang Hao. “So, what are you two talking about? Something interesting, I hope.”
Zhang Hao glanced at Sunoo, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just talking about life, you know? What really matters.”
Leehan raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “And what’s that?”
“Not pageants,” Sunoo replied, his tone light but with an edge of finality.
Leehan chuckled, but there was a hint of something darker in his eyes. “Fair enough. But don’t underestimate the power of a good show. Sometimes, it’s the spectacle that people remember the most.”
Sunoo nodded, though he felt a chill run down his spine. There was something about Leehan that always seemed to unsettle him, no matter how friendly he appeared. “Yeah, I guess.”
Leehan pushed off the lockers, giving Sunoo a lingering look before turning to leave. “Well, good luck with whatever ‘real stuff’ you’re into. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
As Leehan walked away, Sunoo let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Zhang Hao gave him a curious look. “That guy’s… something else.”
Sunoo nodded, his mind still lingering on Leehan’s words. “Yeah… something else.”
======================================================
Yeonjun stood in front of the school, pacing back and forth as he waited for Soobin. The morning sun was just beginning to warm the cool air, but it did little to soothe the storm of emotions brewing inside him. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated thoughts swirling in his mind. When Soobin finally approached, Yeonjun didn’t waste any time diving into the topic that had been eating at him all day.
“Soobin,” Yeonjun started, his voice laced with anger and confusion. “I can’t believe my dad is back. After all these years, he just shows up out of nowhere, like nothing happened.”
Soobin, always the calm presence, leaned against the wall and gave Yeonjun his full attention. “What did he say?”
Yeonjun let out a bitter laugh. “Not much, really. He apologized, if you can even call it that. It was more like throwing shade at my mom for how she handled things after he left. But when I asked him why he left in the first place, he just dodged the question.”
Soobin frowned. “That must’ve been hard to hear.”
“Hard? It was infuriating!” Yeonjun snapped, the frustration he’d been holding back all morning spilling over. “He acts like he’s got the moral high ground, like he’s the victim in all this. But he doesn’t understand how much he messed up my life when he left.”
Soobin nodded, his expression sympathetic. “Did you tell him that?”
Yeonjun shook his head, feeling a mix of regret and anger. “No, I couldn’t. I was too pissed off, and I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he hurt me. Instead, I just… I don’t know, I ended up arguing with my mom about it. It’s like I can’t win with either of them.”
Soobin’s gaze softened, and he stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder. “You’ve been carrying this anger for a long time, Yeonjun. It’s okay to be mad, but you need to find a way to let it out without tearing yourself apart.”
Yeonjun sighed, some of the tension leaving his body as he absorbed Soobin’s words. “I just don’t know how. I want answers, Soobin, but I don’t think my dad’s going to give them to me. And my mom… she just doesn’t get it. She’s always been so strong, and I think she expects me to be the same, but I’m not. I can’t just pretend everything’s fine.”
Soobin looked at him with understanding. “You don’t have to pretend. Maybe it’s time to stop looking for answers from your dad and start figuring out what you need to move forward. Your parents have their own issues, but that doesn’t mean you have to get caught in the middle.”
Yeonjun stared at the ground, his thoughts churning. “It’s just… I feel so lost. I thought I was doing okay, but now that he’s back, everything’s messed up again. And I’m so tired of feeling like this.”
Soobin’s grip on his shoulder tightened slightly, grounding him. “You’re not alone, Yeonjun. We’ll figure this out together, okay? Whatever you need, I’m here.”
Yeonjun looked up, meeting Soobin’s steady gaze, and felt a small spark of hope amidst the chaos inside him. “Thanks, Soobin. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Soobin smiled, a quiet strength in his eyes. “You won’t have to find out. We’ll get through this, one step at a time.”
As the school bell rang, signaling the start of the day, Yeonjun felt a little lighter. The weight of his father’s return was still there, but with Soobin by his side, it didn’t feel quite as overwhelming. He knew there were still tough conversations to be had and emotions to process, but at least he wasn’t facing them alone.
======================================================
Yeonjun sat on the stone steps outside the school, his thoughts tangled as he replayed his conversation with Soobin. The school grounds were quiet, most students already inside, but he needed a moment to gather himself. Soobin had opened up more than usual, and it left Yeonjun feeling both closer to his friend and more burdened by the weight of everything they were going through.
Just as he was about to head inside, he heard footsteps approaching. Glancing up, he saw Jiung standing a few feet away, casually leaning against the railing. The new kid had a way of appearing out of nowhere, his expression unreadable.
"Hey," Jiung said, a small, almost mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Didn’t mean to interrupt your little chat with Soobin earlier."
Yeonjun felt a flicker of irritation. "Were you eavesdropping?"
Jiung shrugged, not seeming the least bit apologetic. "Wasn’t trying to. Just happened to catch a bit of it. You guys seemed deep in conversation."
Yeonjun sighed, pushing himself to his feet. The last thing he wanted was to deal with this right now, but something about Jiung’s nonchalant attitude made it hard to stay mad. "What do you want, Jiung?"
Jiung’s smile widened, and he gestured toward the school. "I was hoping you could show me around. I’m still getting used to this place, and I figured you might be the best guide."
Yeonjun hesitated, his mind still lingering on Soobin’s words. But he knew he couldn’t avoid Jiung forever, especially if he was going to be around Soobin more often. "Fine," he said, trying to keep his tone neutral. "I’ll show you around."
Jiung fell into step beside him as they walked toward the entrance. "This place is bigger than my old school," Jiung commented, glancing around the halls as they entered the building. "I can see why it might be easy to get lost."
"Yeah, it can be," Yeonjun replied, his voice lacking enthusiasm. He pointed out a few key spots—the cafeteria, the library, the gym—keeping the tour as brief as possible.
Jiung seemed to pick up on Yeonjun’s mood. "You don’t seem too thrilled about this," he said, his tone almost teasing. "Everything okay?"
Yeonjun shot him a sidelong glance. "Just a lot on my mind. This isn’t exactly how I planned to spend my morning."
Jiung nodded, his expression softening slightly. "I get it. New people can be a hassle, right? But for what it’s worth, I’m not trying to make things harder for you."
Yeonjun wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Jiung’s sincerity caught him off guard, and for a moment, he wondered if he’d misjudged the guy. "It’s not just that," he said after a pause. "There’s… a lot going on right now."
Jiung stopped walking and turned to face Yeonjun. "I know. Soobin’s my cousin, remember? He doesn’t talk much, but I can tell when something’s bothering him. And from what I overheard, you’re carrying some of that weight too."
Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed slightly, but there was no malice in Jiung’s voice, just observation. "Yeah, well, we’re all dealing with our own stuff."
"True," Jiung agreed. "But that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone. You’ve got people around you who care. Soobin, for one. And now, maybe me."
Yeonjun wasn’t sure if that was a promise or a warning, but there was something about Jiung’s easy confidence that made him seem genuine. "Why do you care?" Yeonjun asked, his voice a bit sharper than he intended.
Jiung smiled, a hint of amusem*nt in his eyes. "Because we’re all in this together, whether we like it or not. And besides, I kind of like knowing what’s going on in my cousin’s life—and by extension, yours."
Yeonjun studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright. I’ll show you the rest of the school. But if you’re really going to be around, just… don’t push too hard."
Jiung’s smile widened, but it wasn’t mocking—it was understanding. "Deal. Lead the way, tour guide."
As they continued through the halls, Yeonjun couldn’t shake the feeling that Jiung was someone who could easily get under people’s skin, but also someone who might actually care more than he let on. For now, he decided to keep things civil and see where this unexpected connection might lead.
======================================================
San stood outside the morgue’s entrance, his face etched with a mixture of resolve and anxiety. The grey, overcast sky seemed to mirror his mood as he approached Tiffany’s workplace. His knock on the heavy metal door was met with a terse response.
“Tiffany, can we talk?” San’s voice carried a note of desperation.
Tiffany, caught off guard by his unexpected visit, glanced up from her paperwork, her expression a blend of annoyance and curiosity. “San, what are you doing here? I’m busy.”
“I know. I’m sorry to interrupt,” San began, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “But I need to explain why I came back. I got a series of emails from Woonhak.”
Tiffany’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Woonhak? He’s been dead for months.”
San’s face went pale. “What? That can’t be right. I got these emails just recently. They said Yeonjun needed me and that I should come back. Woonhak—he explained everything, or at least he said he could.”
Tiffany’s expression softened slightly, though her frustration remained. “San, Woonhak passed away months ago. His death was hard on us all, especially considering what he was involved in. If you received messages from him, they were either sent before his death or someone’s playing a cruel trick.”
San shook his head, confusion and concern etched across his face. “That’s not possible. The emails were detailed. They seemed… urgent. Woonhak talked about Yeonjun, how he needed his father, and it just made sense to come back.”
Tiffany’s eyes grew sharper as she studied San. “You’re telling me that someone knew enough about Woonhak and our situation to mimic his email style and deceive you?”
San hesitated, grappling with the new information. “It would seem so. But why would someone do that? What would be the point of tricking me into returning?”
Tiffany sighed heavily, her frustration shifting to concern. “San, if this is a ploy, it’s more complicated than you realize. There’s been a lot of manipulation and deceit surrounding Yeonjun and the cases here. You might have been used as part of someone else’s agenda.”
San looked pained, his initial resolve wavering. “I came back because I thought it was what Yeonjun needed. I wanted to make things right.”
Tiffany’s gaze softened as she took in his distress. “I understand that, but the situation is more complex. You need to be cautious. Yeonjun is already dealing with so much. If you truly want to help him, you need to be honest and clear about your intentions.”
San nodded, though his face was still troubled. “I’ll talk to Yeonjun. I just… I want to make sure he knows I’m here for him. Even if the emails weren’t from Woonhak, my return was meant to be a positive thing.”
Tiffany’s tone was firm but sympathetic. “Then make sure you approach it that way. Don’t let whatever this deception is complicate things further. Yeonjun needs stability, not more confusion. And actually we need to go to the station about those emails. We don't know what's at stake here."
======================================================
Sunoo’s day had started off on a high note. He’d spent the morning laughing with Zhang Hao, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they bonded over their shared interests and Zhang Hao’s fascination with Jaehyun. Zhang Hao’s easygoing nature was a breath of fresh air, and Sunoo was starting to feel like he might just have a new friend to rely on.
Later, Sunoo had found himself playing matchmaker, trying to set up Zhang Hao with a potential interest of his own. The thrill of playing cupid gave him a sense of purpose and joy, momentarily pushing aside the lingering discomfort from his recent breakup with Sunghoon. It was a day of unexpected connections and small victories.
But just as Sunoo was starting to feel like he was on the mend, his phone buzzed with a call from Jay. The name alone was enough to stir up a whirlwind of emotions.
“Hey, Jay,” Sunoo answered, trying to keep his voice steady.
“Sunoo, hey. It’s been a while,” Jay’s voice was smooth but tinged with something Sunoo couldn’t quite place—apology, regret, or perhaps a bit of both.
“Yeah, it has,” Sunoo replied, his heart sinking. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to check in, see how you’ve been doing,” Jay said, his tone oddly casual given the weight of their past.
Sunoo hesitated, feeling a mix of irritation and curiosity. “I’ve been better. What’s this about? Why are you calling now?”
Jay sighed. “I know things ended badly between us, and I’m sorry for that. I’ve been thinking about what happened, and I wanted to apologize for how things went down. It wasn’t fair to you.”
Sunoo’s grip tightened on his phone. “It’s a little late for apologies, don’t you think? You left without a word and then just show up out of the blue?”
“I know, and I regret it,” Jay said, his voice softening. “I didn’t handle things well, and I understand if you’re angry. I just needed to reach out and make things right, at least a little.”
Sunoo took a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions in check. “Well, it’s good that you’re acknowledging it. But I’m not sure what you expect from this call. I’ve moved on, Jay. I’m trying to find my footing again.”
“I get it,” Jay replied. “I don’t expect anything from you. I just wanted to be honest and let you know I’m sorry. Maybe we can clear the air and move forward, even if it’s just as acquaintances.”
Sunoo felt a pang of sadness and frustration. He didn’t know if he wanted to forgive Jay or if he should just move on and forget about him entirely. “I appreciate the apology, Jay. But right now, I’m focused on figuring out my own stuff. Maybe it’s best if we leave the past where it is.”
Jay was quiet for a moment before responding. “Okay, Sunoo. I understand. Take care of yourself, alright?”
“You too,” Sunoo said, hanging up the call.
As he put his phone away, Sunoo couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling left by the conversation. He glanced at Zhang Hao, who was still chatting animatedly about some new hobby he’d picked up. Sunoo forced a smile, trying to push aside the remnants of his conversation with Jay.
“I’m sorry,” Sunoo said, his voice a bit distant. “I just had a tough call with an old friend.”
Zhang Hao’s eyes softened with understanding. “It’s okay. If you need to talk or just want to get your mind off things, I’m here.”
Sunoo nodded, grateful for Zhang Hao’s kindness. “Thanks, Hao. I appreciate it.”
With a deep breath, Sunoo tried to refocus on the present moment. He knew that dealing with the past was an ongoing process, but he was determined not to let it overshadow the positives of his day.
======================================================
Tiffany and San stood in the sterile, fluorescent-lit hallway of the police station, their faces set with determination. Sheriff Jiwoong leaned back in his chair, eyes scanning the printed emails that Tiffany had thrust into his hands. The contents were clear enough—numerous messages from someone claiming to be Woonhak, each one suggesting that Yeonjun needed his father’s presence more than ever.
Jiwoong’s expression remained neutral as he read. “I understand that these emails are unsettling, but there’s no concrete evidence suggesting they’re from Woonhak himself. Without further proof, it’s difficult to justify an extensive investigation.”
Tiffany’s frustration was palpable. “Sheriff Jiwoong, these emails are too specific and too timely to ignore. They’re clearly aimed at manipulating us. If they’re not from Woonhak, then who is sending them and why?”
Jiwoong adjusted his glasses and sighed. “I’ll look into it, Tiffany, but I need to emphasize that we need more than just these emails to act decisively.”
San, who had been quietly fuming, finally spoke up. “With all due respect, Sheriff, it feels like you’re dismissing our concerns. Tiffany’s instincts are usually spot-on. Don’t you think it’s worth investigating further?”
Jiwoong gave San a measured look. “I’m not dismissing anything. I’m just being realistic about the evidence we have. We can’t mobilize resources based on speculation alone.”
Tiffany clenched her fists, her patience wearing thin. “I’m not asking for you to mobilize resources on a whim. I’m asking you to take these threats seriously, especially considering Yeonjun’s recent struggles. If there’s even a chance that these emails are a real threat, don’t you think it’s better to be cautious?”
Jiwoong’s tone was calm but firm. “I understand your concern, Tiffany. I’ll start by reviewing the email metadata and see if we can trace their origin. But I assure you, without more substantial evidence, there’s only so much I can do.”
Tiffany's frustration reached its peak. “Thank you for your time, Sheriff. We’ll be in touch.”
She turned to leave, San following closely behind. His anger was evident, and he grabbed Tiffany’s arm, halting her in the hallway. “Tiffany, wait. We need to talk about this.”
Tiffany’s face was a mask of anger and hurt. “San, not now. I can’t deal with this right now.”
San’s grip tightened. “Why not? We can’t keep avoiding this. You’re pushing me away, and it’s not helping anything.”
Tiffany yanked her arm free, her eyes flashing. “I’m not pushing you away. I’m trying to deal with everything that’s been thrown at me. And right now, I need you to understand that I’m doing the best I can.”
San’s face softened slightly, but his frustration remained. “I get that you’re stressed, but I’m here to help. We need to be a team, not at odds with each other.”
Tiffany took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. “I know. I just… I don’t have the energy for this right now.”
San looked at her, his expression a mix of concern and weariness. “Alright. But let’s talk when things settle down. We need to be on the same page.”
Tiffany nodded, her resolve faltering as she turned away. She felt a wave of exhaustion as she walked out of the station, leaving San behind. The argument, combined with the unresolved issues between them and the ongoing uncertainty about Woonhak, had left her feeling more isolated than ever.
As Tiffany stepped into the cool evening air, she took a moment to steady herself. The weight of the day pressed down on her, and she knew that navigating both her personal and professional challenges would take every ounce of strength she had left.
======================================================
Eddie shuffled down the hallway of the Crescent Palms Hotel, a bottle of liquor clutched in his hand. He was on his way to prep Room 213, but the request had seemed odd. The bottle wasn’t something San had asked for, and Eddie’s curiosity was piqued. He couldn’t help but wonder why the room had been booked with such peculiar instructions.
He reached Room 213 and unlocked the door, pushing it open with a creak. As he stepped inside, his eyes widened at the sight before him. The room was covered in plastic sheeting from floor to ceiling, a stark contrast to the usual hospitality decor of the hotel. Eddie’s initial confusion melted into a grin.
“Guess this is some sort of kinky setup,” Eddie muttered, his voice echoing in the eerily silent room. He set the bottle of alcohol down on a small table near the window, his gaze sweeping over the strange, plastic-wrapped surroundings.
Unbeknownst to him, the killer had been waiting in the shadows, concealed by the opaque sheen of the plastic. As Eddie turned to leave, the killer emerged silently, a menacing figure whose presence was as chilling as the room’s sterile plastic.
Eddie’s expression shifted from curiosity to shock as the killer stepped out from behind a curtain of plastic. He barely had time to react before the killer swung the bottle of liquor, striking him hard across the head. Eddie stumbled, his vision blurring as the impact sent him reeling.
“What the—” Eddie’s words were cut off as the killer followed up with a brutal series of blows, the bottle smashing against his face and chest. He collapsed to the floor, barely able to comprehend what was happening.
The killer, a dark silhouette against the plastic, grabbed the corkscrew from the small bar set up on the counter. The metal gleamed ominously in the dim light as the killer approached Eddie, who was now struggling weakly on the floor.
Eddie’s eyes widened in horror as the corkscrew was twisted into his flesh, the sharp pain shooting through his body. He gasped, his voice a mere whimper as the killer methodically used the corkscrew, each twist more merciless than the last.
As Eddie’s life ebbed away, his final moments were filled with confusion and fear. The killer stood over him, their face hidden in the shadows, their breathing steady and controlled. The room, once a place of innocent expectations, had become a scene of violence and death.
When it was over, the killer took a moment to survey the scene, ensuring the task had been completed. Eddie lay motionless on the floor, his body partially concealed by the plastic sheeting. The killer’s work was done, leaving behind a chilling silence as they slipped out of the room, leaving the plastic and the remains of their victim behind.
======================================================
The night was crisp as the group of friends gathered at the local theater for the screening of *Killer Klowns from Outer Space*. The anticipation was palpable, with the promise of popcorn, laughs, and an old-school horror flick to keep everyone on edge. Sunoo, Zhang Hao, Jaehyun, Leehan, and Jay Park all found themselves in the same auditorium, each for their own reasons, but none expected to see the others.
As they settled into their seats, Sunoo leaned over to Zhang Hao, who was absorbed in his phone.
“Hey, didn’t expect to see you here,” Sunoo said, nudging him playfully. “Are you a fan of cult horror too?”
Zhang Hao glanced up, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah, my cousin used to love this stuff. It’s kind of nostalgic for me.”
Sunoo raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. I didn’t know you had a taste for the weird and creepy.”
Meanwhile, Leehan and Jaehyun were having their own conversation, the dim lights casting a soft glow on their faces.
“So, you and Sunoo have been pretty close lately,” Jaehyun said, trying to sound casual.
Leehan shrugged, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. “Yeah, we’ve been hanging out. It’s been nice to get to know him better.”
Jaehyun nodded, but his gaze kept darting toward Sunoo, who was now excitedly discussing the film’s plot with Zhang Hao.
It was then that Jay Park strolled into the theater, his entrance unnoticed by most. He walked with a confidence that was both irritating and impressive. Spotting Sunoo, he made his way over, weaving through the rows of seats.
“Hey, Sunoo,” Jay greeted, flashing a charming smile. “Fancy running into you here.”
Sunoo looked up, his initial surprise giving way to a tight smile. “Jay. What are you doing here?”
Jay took a seat beside him, his demeanor relaxed. “Just here to enjoy a good movie. Didn’t think I’d see you, but it’s a pleasant surprise.”
Sunoo’s gaze flickered to Leehan and then to Jaehyun, who had started to notice the growing tension. “Well, you’re here now. How’s life treating you?”
Jay leaned in slightly, his voice low but confident. “Better than ever. Figured I’d come back to Lakewood and see if I could fix things. Maybe rekindle old flames.”
Sunoo’s face tightened, a mix of annoyance and discomfort crossing his features. “You’re not really making it easy to forget what happened.”
Jay’s smile didn’t falter. “I know, but I’m here to make amends. Thought this would be a good way to start.”
The lights dimmed further as the movie began, and the group settled into an uneasy silence. Jay’s presence seemed to hang heavily in the air, a reminder of unresolved issues and past tensions.
As the clowns on screen began their zany antics, Leehan leaned over to Jaehyun, his voice barely above a whisper. “Didn’t expect Jay to show up, did you?”
Jaehyun shook his head. “No, I definitely didn’t. This just got a lot more complicated.”
The movie played on, but for Sunoo and his friends, the real horror was the unpredictability of their lives and the complex web of relationships and tensions that seemed to follow them wherever they went.
======================================================
As the credits rolled and the lights began to brighten, the group shuffled out of the theater. Sunoo, visibly agitated, tried to brush past Jay without engaging. Jay, however, wasn’t so easily deterred.
“Hey, Sunoo,” Jay called out, catching up with him. “Can we talk for a minute?”
Sunoo’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with irritation. “I don’t think there’s anything left to say, Jay.”
Jay’s smile faltered slightly, but he pressed on. “I just want to clear the air. You know, make things right between us.”
Before Sunoo could respond, Leehan stepped in front of him, a protective arm sliding around Sunoo’s shoulders. “Actually, Jay, I think Sunoo would prefer to enjoy the rest of his night without any more drama.”
Jay raised an eyebrow, looking between Sunoo and Leehan. “Oh? And who might you be?”
Leehan’s expression was calm but firm. “I’m his boyfriend. We’re here to enjoy the evening, not revisit old wounds.”
Jay’s eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and curiosity evident. “Boyfriend, huh? Well, I didn’t realize you two were together.”
Without missing a beat, Leehan pulled Sunoo closer and leaned in to give him a quick, validating kiss. The peck was short but enough to convey their supposed relationship.
Sunoo, caught off guard but grateful, managed a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks for that,” he whispered, just as Jay’s face showed a flicker of disappointment.
As the group prepared to leave, Jay’s expression turned serious. He looked directly at Sunoo, his voice low. “By the way, did you like the flowers I sent you?”
Sunoo’s heart sank. He had been under the impression that the flowers were from Sunghoon, especially given the heartfelt note attached to them. He turned to Jay, his confusion and discomfort palpable. “The flowers? I thought… I thought they were from Sunghoon.”
Jay’s eyes narrowed, a hint of something unreadable in his gaze. “Sunghoon? I didn’t know he was sending you flowers.”
Sunoo’s brow furrowed as he tried to piece together the situation. “But why would you send them? I thought…”
Jay interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. “I just wanted to show you that I’m trying to make amends. If you’ve been getting flowers from someone else, then it seems I’ve got some competition.”
Leehan’s grip on Sunoo’s shoulder tightened, sensing the tension. “I think it’s time we leave, Jay. Sunoo’s had enough for one night.”
Jay nodded, his expression softening. “Alright. I’ll see you around, Sunoo.”
As Jay walked away, Sunoo stood there, the confusion and unease still lingering. Leehan guided him gently towards the exit, Zhang Hao and Jaehyun following close behind.
Once outside, Sunoo turned to his friends, a mix of frustration and relief in his eyes. “Thanks for backing me up in there. I don’t know what’s going on with the flowers, but it’s really messing with my head.”
Zhang Hao placed a comforting hand on Sunoo’s back. “We’re here for you. Whatever’s going on, we’ll figure it out together.”
Jaehyun nodded in agreement. “And we’ll keep an eye on things. No more surprises.”
As the group made their way to the parking lot, Sunoo couldn’t shake the feeling that the night’s events were just another twist in a long, winding road of uncertainty.
======================================================
Jaehyun’s voice crackled over the phone as he called Beomgyu late into the evening.
“Beomgyu, where were you tonight? We had a movie night, and you missed out. We could’ve used you there.”
Beomgyu, who was pacing back and forth in his dimly lit apartment, ran a hand through his hair, struggling to keep his tone casual. “Yeah, sorry about that. Just got caught up with some stuff. Busy night.”
Jaehyun’s voice carried a hint of skepticism. “You missed a pretty intense night. Sunoo was all worked up about Jay, and Zhang Hao and Leehan were there too. Everyone was asking where you were. Is everything okay?”
“Just busy, like I said,” Beomgyu replied, trying to sound convincing. “You know how it is.”
Jaehyun sighed, the concern evident in his tone. “Alright, if you say so. But remember, we’re all in this together. We need to stick close, especially with everything going on.”
Beomgyu nodded, even though Jaehyun couldn’t see him. “I know. I’ll make it up to everyone. See you tomorrow.”
As he hung up, Beomgyu’s phone buzzed with a new message. He glanced at the screen, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw the sender: UNKNOWN.
Opening the message, Beomgyu’s blood ran cold. The screen displayed grainy, shaky footage of Yeonjun in a hotel room. The room was eerily familiar—covered in plastic sheets, the same unsettling setup he had seen before. The camera panned slowly, revealing the body of Eddie, lifeless and grotesquely displayed.
Beomgyu’s hand trembled as he watched the footage, his mind racing. He recognized the room immediately. The sight of Yeonjun in that disturbing setting was enough to make his stomach churn.
A chilling text accompanied the footage: *“See how the game changes? You’re not the only one being watched.”*
Beomgyu’s thoughts raced as he processed the implications. Why was Yeonjun there? Was he in danger, or was he somehow connected to the killer's message?
Desperately trying to regain his composure, Beomgyu quickly sent a reply to the unknown number, demanding answers. His fingers fumbled as he typed, knowing full well that this was just another layer of the complex and terrifying puzzle they were all trapped in.
He paced the room, trying to shake off the feeling of dread, when another text came in. It was from Jaehyun.
“Everything alright? You seemed pretty distracted.”
Beomgyu took a deep breath and texted back. “Yeah, all good. Just had a lot on my mind. Let’s talk tomorrow.”
As he set his phone down, Beomgyu felt a growing unease. The killer was playing a dangerous game, and Beomgyu had to find a way to protect himself and his friends from the ever-tightening noose.
He knew that keeping this from Jaehyun and the rest of the group was becoming increasingly difficult. With every new piece of the puzzle, the stakes grew higher, and the need for answers more urgent.
======================================================
Yeonjun’s footsteps echoed in the dimly lit hallway of the Crescent Palms hotel. The building, with its old-fashioned décor and shadowy corners, seemed to amplify his nervous energy as he approached Room 213. With a trembling hand, he unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The room was eerily quiet. Yeonjun flicked on the lights and surveyed the space. The room appeared undisturbed, but his eyes were immediately drawn to a large stack of newspaper clippings on the small desk. His heart raced as he moved closer to examine them.
The clippings were arranged in a chaotic mess, covering various articles about the recent killings and featuring unsettling photographs. Yeonjun’s breath hitched when he spotted a particularly disturbing picture—one of him and his mother, Tiffany, from a public event they had attended years ago. The image was marked with a red circle, highlighting their faces.
Yeonjun’s curiosity got the better of him. He leaned in closer, trying to make sense of the connections between the clippings. His mind whirled with questions. Why was this here? What did it all mean?
He was so absorbed in the clippings that he didn’t notice the bathroom light flicker on. The sound of the light switch was barely audible over the soft hum of the hotel’s air conditioning. The bathroom door, slightly ajar, revealed only a sliver of light seeping into the room.
A shadow moved across the bathroom’s threshold, and the air grew colder. The killer had silently entered the bathroom, waiting for the right moment.
Yeonjun continued to study the clippings, oblivious to the danger closing in on him. His fingers brushed against the edges of the clippings, piecing together what he could. His eyes were locked on a particular headline when he heard a faint noise behind him—a barely perceptible creak of the bathroom door opening wider.
The killer’s presence was unmistakable now. With a sudden burst of courage, Yeonjun turned around, just in time to catch a glimpse of the killer’s silhouette emerging from the bathroom. Panic surged through him as he realized the danger he was in.
“Who’s there?” Yeonjun’s voice trembled, his eyes wide with fear.
The killer stepped into the light, revealing a face hidden behind a mask. The mask was chillingly familiar, its design a twisted parody of a classic movie villain. The killer’s eyes glinted with a malevolent intent, and the room’s atmosphere seemed to thicken with dread.
Yeonjun’s heart pounded in his chest. He stumbled backward, his gaze darting around for a possible escape route. The killer slowly advanced, a dark silhouette against the brightening light from the bathroom.
In a desperate bid to protect himself, Yeonjun grabbed a nearby lamp and raised it as a makeshift weapon. His hands were shaking, but he tried to muster every ounce of courage he had left. “Stay away from me!”
The killer paused, tilting their head slightly as if amused by Yeonjun’s futile defense. The mask concealed any expression, but the menace in their stance was palpable.
“You shouldn’t have come here, Yeonjun,” the killer’s voice was low and chilling, carrying a tone of cruel satisfaction. “You’re learning too much.”
Yeonjun’s mind raced. He knew he had to act fast. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, he swung the lamp toward the killer, hoping to buy himself some time. The lamp struck the killer, but it was only a temporary distraction.
The killer retaliated swiftly, lunging forward with a knife gleaming in the dim light. Yeonjun barely managed to dodge the attack, his heart racing as he scrambled toward the door. He flung it open and sprinted down the hallway, the sound of the killer’s footsteps echoing behind him.
His breath came in ragged gasps as he dashed toward the hotel’s main lobby, the clippings and the dark presence of the killer haunting his every step. The safety of the outside world seemed miles away, but he pushed himself forward, desperate to escape the nightmare that had ensnared him.
======================================================
Yeonjun stumbled out of the Crescent Palms, his heart still pounding from the encounter with the killer. He needed a place to clear his head, but the only nearby establishment was the Lakewood Lounge. The neon sign flickered overhead, casting an eerie glow on the sidewalk as Yeonjun pushed through the heavy glass doors.
Inside, the lounge was dimly lit, its atmosphere thick with the hum of idle chatter and the clinking of glasses. Yeonjun scanned the room, his eyes falling on a familiar figure slumped over the bar. His father, San, was seated on a barstool, his face flushed and his movements sluggish. He was embroiled in a heated argument with the bartender, his words slurring together.
Yeonjun’s stomach twisted with a mix of anger and despair. He approached the bar, his footsteps heavy as he tried to keep his emotions in check. “Dad,” he called out, his voice strained. “What are you doing here?”
San looked up, his eyes bleary and unfocused. Recognition flickered across his face, followed by a flash of guilt. “Yeonjun... What are you doing here?”
The bartender shook his head, clearly exasperated. “You’d better handle this,” he muttered to Yeonjun before walking away.
Yeonjun’s frustration boiled over. “Handle what? You’re drinking away your problems while I’m out there getting chased by a killer, and you’re here causing a scene?”
San’s face hardened, and he struggled to sit up straighter. “I’m not causing a scene. I’m just... trying to forget.”
“Forget what?” Yeonjun demanded, his voice rising. “Forget that you abandoned us? That you left Mom and me without a word?”
San’s expression faltered, and he looked away. “I didn’t mean to... I just—”
“You didn’t mean to?” Yeonjun’s eyes were brimming with tears. “You didn’t mean to leave us? You didn’t mean to leave Mom alone while you were off somewhere, drinking and... and—”
San interrupted, his voice breaking. “I made mistakes, Yeonjun. I know that. I was wrong, and I’m sorry. But you don’t know what it was like—”
“Like what?” Yeonjun interrupted harshly. “Like what it was like to be a terrible father? To make Mom’s life a living hell? Because I know. I saw the bruises on her face. I heard the arguments.”
San’s face paled, and he winced. “I never meant to hurt her. I tried to take you out once, when I was drunk... I didn’t mean for it to happen. Tiffany tried to stop me, and—”
“What happened?” Yeonjun’s voice trembled as he demanded the truth.
San’s shoulders sagged, and he looked at his son with hollow eyes. “I fractured her jaw, Yeonjun. I was out of control... I should have stayed away, but I didn’t.”
The confession hit Yeonjun like a physical blow. He staggered back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The revelation was a gut punch, leaving him reeling with anger and betrayal.
“Why are you telling me this now?” Yeonjun’s voice was a whisper, filled with pain. “Why didn’t you just stay away?”
San’s eyes were filled with tears, and he reached out a shaky hand. “I thought... I thought coming back might make things better. I wanted to fix things, but I know now that I can’t just erase what happened.”
Yeonjun looked at his father with a mixture of fury and heartbreak. “You can’t fix this. You can’t fix what you did. You can’t fix leaving us when we needed you the most.”
With that, Yeonjun turned away, his heart heavy with the weight of his father’s betrayal. He walked out of the lounge, the cold night air stinging his face as he tried to process everything that had just come to light. The tension between them had only deepened, leaving Yeonjun more lost and broken than ever before.
======================================================
As Yeonjun stumbled out of the Lakewood Lounge, his emotions were still in turmoil from the confrontation with his father. The cold night air did little to soothe his racing thoughts. He didn’t notice Beomgyu until he was almost upon him. Beomgyu approached, his face a mask of concern.
“Yeonjun,” Beomgyu said, his voice laced with worry. “Are you alright? I saw your dad outside, and—”
Before Beomgyu could finish, Yeonjun cut him off. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just... I had to hear some things I wasn’t ready for. What are you doing here?”
Beomgyu hesitated for a moment before replying, “I called 911. I saw your dad arguing, and I was worried about you. I didn’t know if things would escalate.”
Yeonjun’s expression softened slightly, though his frustration was still evident. “Thanks for looking out for me. I guess you were right to be concerned.”
Beomgyu’s relief was palpable. “I’m glad you’re okay. I just wanted to make sure nothing happened to you.”
Yeonjun sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I appreciate it, but you don’t always need to be my hero, you know? I don’t want you to feel like you have to rescue me every time something goes wrong.”
Beomgyu’s brow furrowed. “It’s not about rescuing you. I just... I care about you, Yeonjun. I want to be there for you, especially when things get tough.”
Yeonjun looked at Beomgyu, a mix of gratitude and frustration in his eyes. “I know you care, and I’m grateful for it. But I need to handle some things on my own too. I need to figure out how to deal with my dad and everything that’s happened.”
Beomgyu nodded, understanding the weight of Yeonjun’s words. “I get it. Just know that I’m here for you if you need me, but I respect that you need space.”
Yeonjun managed a faint smile. “Thanks, Beomgyu. I’ll keep that in mind.”
As they stood there, the distant sound of sirens grew louder, a reminder of the chaotic night that had unfolded. Yeonjun glanced back at the Lakewood Lounge, where his father was still arguing with the police. The confrontation had left him feeling raw and vulnerable, but Beomgyu’s presence offered a small measure of comfort amidst the turmoil.
“You should probably head back,” Yeonjun said. “I’m sure you’ve got your own things to deal with.”
Beomgyu nodded. “Alright. But remember, if you need to talk or anything, just call me.”
Yeonjun gave him a grateful nod as Beomgyu turned to leave. As Yeonjun watched him go, he felt a flicker of hope that, despite the struggles he faced, he wasn’t entirely alone in facing them.
======================================================
Beomgyu had hoped that his day was winding down peacefully after the chaos with Yeonjun. He drove home, replaying the night’s events in his mind, trying to find some semblance of normalcy. But as he parked his car in the driveway and reached for his phone, another text message flashed on the screen.
His heart sank as he read the message: “Look under the seat.”
Beomgyu's hands trembled as he unlocked his car and slid into the driver's seat. He glanced around nervously before carefully reaching beneath it. His fingers brushed against something cold and metallic. Pulling it out, he gasped. It was a blood-covered corkscrew.
Panic surged through him as he fumbled with the object. He glanced back at his phone, which buzzed with a new message. He opened it, his eyes widening in horror at the image that greeted him: a photograph of Eddie’s lifeless body, the corkscrew embedded in his skin. The accompanying text read: “You shouldn’t have called the police. GOTCHA :).”
Beomgyu’s breath hitched as he tried to process the message. The killer’s taunt made it clear that this was no mere prank. The corkscrew and the photo of Eddie were a chilling reminder of the danger he was in.
He quickly shoved the corkscrew back under the seat, his mind racing. The killer knew he had involved the police and was sending a stark warning. Beomgyu felt a wave of fear mixed with anger. He had to do something. He couldn’t just let this end here.
His phone buzzed again, but he didn’t check it. Instead, he sat in his car, trying to steady his breathing. The realization of the killer’s threat weighed heavily on him. He knew he couldn’t keep this to himself any longer.
Chapter 14: Happy Birthday To Me
Chapter Text
Beomgyu could hardly sleep that night. The image of Eddie’s body and the blood-covered corkscrew haunted his thoughts, making him feel like the walls were closing in on him. He knew he had to get rid of it—no one could find it. Not the police, not his friends, and especially not the killer.
In the dead of night, he quietly slipped out of his house, corkscrew wrapped in a towel, and made his way to the wooded area behind his backyard. The trees loomed overhead like silent sentinels as he walked further into the darkness, the only sounds being his hurried breaths and the crunch of leaves underfoot.
He stopped a few meters away from his house, where the ground was soft and covered in a thick layer of dirt. Using a small garden shovel he had grabbed on his way out, he dug a hole as deep as he could manage in the dim light of his phone screen. His hands shook as he placed the towel-wrapped corkscrew into the hole and quickly covered it with dirt. He patted the ground down, making sure there was no sign of his grim secret, and hurried back to his house, trying to shake off the lingering fear that seemed to follow him.
Finally back in his room, he collapsed onto his bed, exhaustion and adrenaline battling for dominance. His body ached, and his mind was a chaotic whirl of thoughts. But eventually, sleep took over, dragging him into a restless slumber.
Morning came far too soon. The sun filtered through his curtains, casting a warm glow over his room. Beomgyu groggily opened his eyes, feeling a strange sense of unease that he couldn’t quite place. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, trying to shake off the fog of sleep.
And then he saw it.
His breath caught in his throat, and his heart slammed against his chest. There, lying on the pillow beside him, was the blood-covered corkscrew.
He recoiled, nearly falling out of bed as he scrambled to get away from the horrific sight. The corkscrew was exactly as he had buried it—still stained with Eddie’s blood, the metal gleaming ominously in the morning light. It was impossible. He had buried it deep in the woods. How could it be here?
Beomgyu’s hands shook as he reached for his phone, the dread building in his chest. His fingers fumbled over the screen, and just as he feared, there was a new message waiting for him from the killer.
*“You can’t bury your sins, Beomgyu. I’m always watching. Sweet dreams ;)”*
The coldness of the message seeped into his bones, making him feel like the room was closing in around him. He stared at the corkscrew, his mind racing with fear and confusion. The killer had not only found it but had somehow brought it back to him, as if to mock him, to remind him that there was no escape.
His phone buzzed again, and this time, it was a call. He glanced at the screen, seeing Jaehyun’s name flash across it. For a moment, Beomgyu hesitated, not sure if he could bear to hear Jaehyun’s voice, knowing the weight of the secret he was carrying.
But he answered anyway.
“Beomgyu?” Jaehyun’s voice was laced with concern. “Are you okay? You didn’t show up last night.”
Beomgyu swallowed hard, trying to steady his voice. “I... something came up. I couldn’t make it.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? You sound... off.”
Beomgyu forced a laugh, though it came out hollow. “I’m fine, just... tired. Didn’t sleep well.”
There was a pause on the other end, and Beomgyu could almost feel Jaehyun’s suspicion growing. “You know you can talk to me, right? If something’s going on, I want to help.”
Beomgyu clenched his teeth, his gaze locked on the cursed corkscrew. He wanted to tell Jaehyun everything, to unload the burden that was crushing him, but the killer’s threat echoed in his mind. *I’m always watching.*
“I’m fine, Jaehyun,” he said, his voice steadier now. “Really. I’ll see you at school.”
Jaehyun hesitated, then finally relented. “Alright. But if you need anything, I’m here.”
“Thanks,” Beomgyu whispered, ending the call.
He sat there for a moment, staring at the corkscrew, his mind racing. The killer had made their point clear—there was no escaping this nightmare. No matter how hard he tried to hide the evidence, to bury his guilt, the killer would always find a way to remind him of the dark path he was on.
With trembling hands, Beomgyu carefully wrapped the corkscrew back in the towel, his mind already working on what to do next. He had to get rid of it again, but this time, he had to be smarter. He had to stay one step ahead of the killer, no matter the cost.
======================================================
Yeonjun’s fingers trailed along the edge of Soobin’s jaw, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. The world outside ceased to exist as they melted into each other, every kiss deepening the connection that tethered them together. Soobin’s warmth enveloped Yeonjun, his touch grounding him in a way nothing else could.
But suddenly, the warmth began to fade. Yeonjun’s eyes fluttered open, his heart pounding as he pulled back slightly. Soobin’s soft smile was still there, but something was wrong. A dark shadow seemed to pass over his face, and then, in the blink of an eye, blood began to seep from the corners of his mouth. Yeonjun’s heart dropped, panic rising as he reached out to stop the crimson flow, but it was too late. The blood gushed out, staining the bed and Soobin’s clothes, spreading like a dark stain over their moment of peace.
“No! No, Soobin, stay with me!” Yeonjun’s voice was frantic, his hands trembling as he tried to stop the bleeding, but it was useless. Soobin’s eyes were wide with terror, his body convulsing as the life drained out of him.
And then, from the shadows, the killer emerged. A grotesque figure, masked and cloaked in darkness, wielding the bloodied knife that had torn through Soobin’s heart. The killer’s eyes gleamed with malice, and with a sickening smile, they lunged at Yeonjun.
Yeonjun screamed, thrashing violently as the killer closed in, the knife gleaming in the dim light. The blade was mere inches from his throat when—
He jolted awake, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his body drenched in sweat. Yeonjun’s heart pounded in his chest as he sat up, disoriented and terrified, his mind struggling to shake off the remnants of the nightmare. His eyes darted around the room, half-expecting to see the killer still lurking in the shadows, but it was just his room, dimly lit by the early morning light filtering through the curtains.
It was a dream—a horrifying, vivid dream.
Yeonjun’s hands shook as he reached for his journal on the nightstand, flipping it open to the last page. He had written about the dream in a haze, the words scrawled in frantic, messy lines. His breath hitched as he read over the entry, his mind replaying the nightmare in gruesome detail. It felt so real, so terrifyingly real.
He closed the journal with a trembling hand, trying to push the images from his mind, but they clung to him like a dark cloud. Soobin’s face, pale and bloodied, haunted him, and the killer’s gleaming eyes burned into his memory.
Yeonjun dragged himself out of bed, still shaking off the lingering fear, and padded quietly down the stairs. As he neared the living room, he heard the low murmur of voices—his parents, locked in yet another argument. Their voices were harsh, cutting through the quiet morning air like knives.
“You’re never here when he needs you!” Tiffany’s voice was sharp, brimming with frustration. “You can’t just waltz back into our lives and pretend everything’s fine, San!”
“And what about you, Tiffany? You think working in the morgue all hours of the night makes you some perfect mother? You’ve been hiding him from me for years!”
“I’ve been protecting him! From you!”
Yeonjun’s grip tightened on the banister as he descended the last few steps, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. He was tired—tired of the lies, the half-truths, the constant fighting. The nightmare had left him on edge, and now this argument was the final straw.
“Enough!” Yeonjun’s voice rang out, startling both of his parents into silence. They turned to face him, their faces a mix of shock and guilt. “I’m so sick of this! Both of you!”
Tiffany’s eyes softened, but before she could speak, Yeonjun cut her off. “You think I don’t know what’s going on? That I’m too young or too stupid to figure it out? All you two do is fight, and I’m the one stuck in the middle!”
San stepped forward, his expression strained. “Yeonjun, we’re just trying to—”
“Trying to what, Dad? Fix things? Because all you’re doing is making everything worse!” Yeonjun’s voice cracked with emotion, his fists clenched at his sides. “You think you can just come back into my life after everything, and act like nothing happened? Like you didn’t leave us?”
San looked away, his shoulders slumping slightly, but Yeonjun wasn’t done. He turned to his mother, his voice laced with bitterness. “And you, Mom—you think I don’t know why you’ve been pushing me to stay away from Dad? Why you’re so obsessed with protecting me? I’m not a kid anymore! I’m not some fragile thing you can keep in a bubble!”
Tiffany’s eyes filled with tears, but Yeonjun didn’t stop. He was done holding back, done pretending everything was okay. “You both messed up. And now, I’m the one who has to deal with it. But I can’t do this anymore—I won’t.”
Without waiting for a response, Yeonjun turned on his heel and stormed out of the house, the door slamming behind him with a finality that echoed through the tense silence left in his wake.
He didn’t know where he was going, but he needed to get away—away from the nightmares, away from the fighting, away from the suffocating weight of his parents’ mistakes. All he knew was that he couldn’t stay there any longer.
======================================================
Soobin sat on the couch, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he stared at Jiung, who was leaning casually against the kitchen counter. The air between them was thick with tension, a silent battle of wills unfolding in the quiet of the house.
“So, are we just going to ignore the fact that you’ve been acting weird all morning?” Jiung finally broke the silence, his tone light but with an edge that suggested he wasn’t in the mood for games.
Soobin glanced up, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m not acting weird. I’m just not in the mood for your nonsense today.”
Jiung raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “My nonsense? I’m just trying to make your birthday special, but if you’d rather sulk, that’s on you.”
Soobin sighed, the fight draining out of him as he dropped his gaze to the floor. He didn’t want to argue, especially not today. “I appreciate it, Jiung, I really do. But I’m not in the mood for a big celebration.”
Jiung pushed off the counter and walked over, sitting down next to his cousin. “It’s your birthday, Soobin. You’re supposed to have fun, let loose a little. We could throw a party, invite a few friends over—”
“No.” Soobin’s response was firm, cutting off Jiung before he could get too far into his planning. “I just want to spend the evening with Yeonjun. That’s all I want.”
Jiung frowned, searching Soobin’s face for a hint of the reason behind his reluctance. “You’ve been through a lot lately,” he said softly. “I get it. But maybe a party would help take your mind off things, you know? Distract you for a while.”
Soobin shook his head, his expression softening as he looked at Jiung. “I don’t need a distraction. I just need… I need to be with someone who understands. Someone who doesn’t expect me to pretend everything’s okay when it’s not.”
Jiung’s shoulders slumped slightly, his earlier bravado fading as he realized how much Soobin was struggling. He reached out and placed a hand on Soobin’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Okay. No party. But at least let me wish you a happy birthday.”
Soobin’s lips curved into a small smile as he met Jiung’s gaze. “Thanks, Jiung. That means a lot.”
Jiung grinned and pulled Soobin into a quick hug, ruffling his hair in a way that made Soobin huff in annoyance but also laugh despite himself. “Happy Birthday, Soob. Even if you’re a bit of a party pooper.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Soobin muttered, swatting Jiung’s hand away with a chuckle. “You know, you’re not so bad when you’re not trying to annoy me.”
“Hey, annoying you is my job. But I’ll give you a pass today.” Jiung’s tone was teasing, but there was genuine affection in his eyes.
Soobin smiled, the weight on his chest lifting just a little. “I appreciate it. But seriously, I’d rather keep things low-key tonight. Just me and Yeonjun.”
“Alright, no arguments from me,” Jiung replied, standing up and stretching. “But don’t think this lets you off the hook for future parties. We’ll make up for it another time.”
Soobin rolled his eyes but nodded in agreement. “Sure, we’ll see about that.”
Jiung chuckled and gave Soobin a playful nudge before heading toward the door. “Well, I’ve got to run a few errands. You and Yeonjun have a good evening, okay?”
“Will do,” Soobin said, watching as Jiung waved and left the house. Once the door closed behind him, Soobin leaned back against the couch, exhaling a long, slow breath.
He glanced at his phone, checking the time. He didn’t have any big plans for his birthday, but that was fine by him. As long as he could spend it with Yeonjun, he knew it would be enough.
======================================================
Jiung strolled into the coffee shop, scanning the room until his eyes landed on Yeonjun, who was sitting at a corner table nursing a cup of coffee. He made his way over, sliding into the seat across from him with a grin.
“Hey, Yeonjun,” Jiung greeted, his tone casual but with a hint of something mischievous. “What brings you here?”
Yeonjun looked up, surprised to see Jiung. “Just needed some caffeine to survive the day,” he replied with a small smile. “What about you?”
“Just running errands and thought I’d stop by,” Jiung said, leaning back in his chair. He paused for a moment, as if considering his next words carefully. “Actually, I was hoping to run into you.”
Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? What’s up?”
Jiung leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if he were about to share a secret. “It’s about Soobin. You know, it’s his birthday today.”
Yeonjun nodded, his expression softening. “Yeah, I know. I was planning to spend the evening with him, just the two of us.”
Jiung smiled, but there was a glint in his eye that suggested he had more on his mind. “Soobin told me he didn’t want a big party, but… I’m not so sure about that. I think deep down, he’d really appreciate a celebration with friends, even if he won’t admit it.”
Yeonjun frowned, leaning forward with a hint of concern. “Are you sure? He seemed pretty set on keeping things low-key.”
Jiung shrugged, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “He did say that, but I think it’s more about not wanting to burden anyone. Soobin’s been through a lot, and maybe he doesn’t realize how much he needs a little fun in his life. A party could be just what he needs to lift his spirits.”
Yeonjun considered Jiung’s words, his mind racing. He knew Soobin well enough to understand that sometimes, even when Soobin said he didn’t want something, it was more about protecting himself from disappointment or stress. And after everything Soobin had been through, maybe a surprise celebration could bring a little light back into his life.
“Maybe you’re right,” Yeonjun said slowly, nodding as the idea began to take shape in his mind. “But where would we even throw a party? Soobin’s place isn’t exactly ideal right now.”
Jiung’s grin widened, sensing he was getting through to Yeonjun. “Funny you should mention that. What if we had it at your place? I heard your mom’s going to be filling in for another medical examiner tonight, so the house will be empty.”
Yeonjun blinked in surprise. “How did you—never mind. You’re right, my mom’s going to be out. We could totally use my place.”
“Exactly!” Jiung said, his enthusiasm contagious. “We can invite a few close friends, keep it small but special. Soobin will love it. Trust me.”
Yeonjun hesitated for just a moment, thinking about what Soobin had said earlier, but Jiung’s logic was hard to argue with. Maybe a party was exactly what Soobin needed, even if he didn’t realize it yet.
“Alright, let’s do it,” Yeonjun agreed, a determined look crossing his face. “We’ll plan the party together and make sure it’s something Soobin will never forget.”
Jiung’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction. “Perfect! I’ll handle the guest list and decorations. You focus on getting Soobin to your place without him suspecting anything. This is going to be great, Yeonjun. Soobin’s going to be so surprised.”
As they began to discuss the details, Yeonjun couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement. Maybe Jiung was right—maybe this party would be the best thing for Soobin. And with both of them working together, he was sure they could pull it off.
======================================================
Mayor Taehyung sat at the kitchen table, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he sipped his coffee. Across from him, Sunoo picked at his breakfast, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. The upcoming announcement of the Prince of the Lake pageant finalists seemed to be the last thing on Sunoo’s mind, but his father was positively buzzing with enthusiasm.
“Can you believe it, Sunoo? The finalists will be announced tomorrow! This could be a huge moment for you,” Mayor Taehyung said, his voice brimming with pride.
Sunoo looked up from his plate, offering a half-hearted smile. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just a pageant, though.”
“Just a pageant?” Taehyung chuckled, shaking his head. “This is more than that, son. It’s a chance to shine, to show everyone what you’re made of. I know you’ve got it in you.”
Sunoo sighed, pushing his food around with his fork. He wasn’t feeling particularly excited about the whole thing, especially with everything that had been going on lately. Sunghoon’s recent distance was bothering him more than he cared to admit, and the thought of facing the pageant without knowing where they stood was unsettling.
Noticing his son’s lack of enthusiasm, Taehyung leaned forward, his tone softening. “Look, I know you’re worried about Sunghoon. But if he’s acting squirrelly and doesn’t come around, you don’t have to stress about it. You can pick any guy you want to accompany you.”
Sunoo looked up, surprised by the offer. “Any guy?”
“Of course,” Taehyung nodded, a reassuring smile on his face. “This is your moment, and you should enjoy it. If Sunghoon isn’t stepping up, there are plenty of other guys who would be thrilled to be by your side. You deserve someone who makes you feel special.”
Sunoo thought about it for a moment, feeling a small sense of relief at his father’s words. He hadn’t considered that he had other options, but it was nice to know he wasn’t completely tied to Sunghoon, especially with how distant he’d been lately.
“Thanks, Dad,” Sunoo said quietly, offering a more genuine smile this time. “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s my boy,” Taehyung said, giving him an encouraging pat on the back. “No matter what happens, just remember that this is about you. Don’t let anyone else take that away.”
As Taehyung finished his coffee and got up to leave, Sunoo sat back in his chair, feeling a bit more at ease. The pageant was still looming, but at least now he knew he had his father’s support—and the freedom to choose who he wanted by his side.
======================================================
The halls of George Washington High buzzed with the usual chatter as students shuffled between classes. Beomgyu walked through the corridor, his phone buzzing in his pocket with another incoming text. He pulled it out, half-expecting the usual playful banter from his friends, but instead, it was yet another message from his mysterious stalker.
*You’re not looking behind you… Gotcha!*
Beomgyu glanced over his shoulder, trying to mask his unease with a smirk, but the corridor was filled with nothing more than his classmates going about their day. He sighed, slipping his phone back into his pocket, but the feeling of being watched lingered.
As he approached his locker, he spotted Sunoo chatting with Zhang Hao nearby. Sunoo caught Beomgyu’s eye and waved him over.
“Hey, Beomgyu,” Sunoo greeted him with a smile. “You look tense. Another ‘fan’ text?”
Beomgyu shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, something like that. It’s probably just some bored idiot.”
Sunoo frowned slightly, sensing that Beomgyu wasn’t as nonchalant as he was pretending to be. “You sure it’s just a prank? I mean, after everything that’s happened…”
Beomgyu hesitated, then leaned in a bit closer, lowering his voice. “Actually, I’ve been thinking. There’s this guy, Leehan—”
“Leehan?” Sunoo interrupted, his expression shifting. “He’s… well, kind of obsessed with us, you know? Like, with the whole ‘Lakewood 6’ thing.”
Beomgyu raised an eyebrow. “Obsessed? What do you mean?”
Sunoo bit his lip, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “He talks about us all the time. Like, he knows way too much about what happened, and he’s always asking me weird questions about the murders, the survivors… It’s creepy, honestly.”
Beomgyu’s suspicion deepened. Leehan had always seemed a bit too eager to be part of their circle, but if what Sunoo was saying was true, then it wasn’t just eagerness—it was something more unsettling.
“Do you think he could be the one sending these texts?” Beomgyu asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sunoo’s eyes widened slightly. “I don’t know, but… it wouldn’t surprise me. He’s got that vibe, you know?”
Before Beomgyu could respond, his phone buzzed again. He pulled it out, feeling a knot form in his stomach as he read the latest message.
*Don’t worry, Beomgyu. You’ll be the star of the show soon enough.*
Beomgyu’s heart skipped a beat. The playful tone of the messages was starting to wear thin, replaced by something far more sinister. He looked back at Sunoo, who seemed to notice the change in his expression.
“Was that him again?” Sunoo asked, his voice tinged with concern.
Beomgyu nodded, his mind racing. “Yeah. And if Leehan’s really as obsessed as you say… we might have a serious problem on our hands.”
Sunoo didn’t respond immediately, but the worry in his eyes said enough. The two of them exchanged a glance, both realizing that the situation was spiraling into something far more dangerous than either of them had anticipated. As they stood there in the bustling hallway, the weight of their shared unease hung heavy between them, neither knowing just how deep this new threat would go.
======================================================
The bell rang, signaling the end of P.E. class, and Beomgyu wiped the sweat from his brow, his mind still racing from his earlier conversation with Sunoo. The suspicion swirling around Leehan had been gnawing at him all period, and now, with the school day nearly over, he knew he couldn’t let it go any longer. He needed answers, and he needed them now.
As the students filed out of the gym, heading to their next classes, Beomgyu lingered behind, his eyes darting around the room. Leehan was there, chatting animatedly with a couple of other students as he packed up his things. Beomgyu’s heart pounded in his chest as he made up his mind.
“Now or never,” he muttered to himself.
He waited until Leehan had left the gym, then quickly slipped over to the fire alarm on the wall. His hand hovered over it for a split second before he yanked it down, the shrill sound of the alarm echoing through the entire building.
Panic and confusion swept through the gym as students and teachers scrambled to exit. Beomgyu, moving with the crowd, ducked into a corner near the entrance. As soon as everyone was outside, he slipped back into the empty gym, his pulse racing with adrenaline.
Leehan’s bag was still there, left behind in the rush. Beomgyu approached it cautiously, his fingers trembling slightly as he unzipped it. Inside, beneath a couple of textbooks and a water bottle, was Leehan’s tablet.
“This better be worth it,” Beomgyu whispered, powering on the device.
He swiped through the screens, quickly bypassing the locked folders and apps until he stumbled upon something that made his blood run cold. It was a folder labeled “Lakewood Chronicles.”
His breath hitched as he opened it. The first image was a crudely drawn comic panel depicting himself, Sunoo, and the others—all of the Lakewood 6—standing together, but the expressions on their faces were distorted, almost monstrous. The scene was eerily reminiscent of their real-life experiences, but twisted into something far darker.
Beomgyu’s fingers shook as he swiped to the next panel. It showed a bloody and violent depiction of Jaehyun, caught in the throes of an attack. The detail was disturbingly intricate, the blood splatters almost too realistic.
And then he saw it—the one that made his stomach lurch. It was Yeonjun, drawn in the middle of a horrifying scene, his body broken and bloodied beyond recognition. The image was so graphic, so shockingly violent, that Beomgyu had to look away for a moment, his heart hammering in his chest.
“What the hell, Leehan…” Beomgyu whispered, his voice barely audible. His mind raced as he tried to piece together what this meant. Was Leehan just a disturbed artist, or was there something more sinister behind these drawings?
As he stared at the screen, he noticed something else—hidden text, scrawled in the margins of the comic panels. It was barely legible, but as Beomgyu squinted, he could make out a few words: *They’ll all pay. They’ll all see.*
Beomgyu’s breath caught in his throat. This wasn’t just fan art; this was a glimpse into something much darker, something that could be a direct threat to all of them.
Just as he was about to delve deeper, the door to the gym creaked open. Beomgyu’s head snapped up, panic flooding his system. He quickly powered off the tablet and shoved it back into the bag, zipping it up just as someone entered.
It was one of the school’s security guards, looking around the room with suspicion. Beomgyu pretended to be grabbing his own things, his heart racing as the guard’s eyes landed on him.
“You’re supposed to be outside with everyone else,” the guard said sternly.
“Sorry, I was just grabbing my stuff,” Beomgyu replied, trying to sound casual. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked toward the exit, forcing himself to keep a steady pace.
As he stepped back out into the crowded schoolyard, Beomgyu’s mind was reeling. Leehan wasn’t just a creep; he was a potential danger to them all. And now, Beomgyu had to figure out what to do with this terrifying discovery.
======================================================
Mayor Taehyung sat in Sheriff Jiwoong's cluttered office, his fingers drumming impatiently on the edge of the sheriff’s desk. The room was filled with the scent of old leather and coffee, the blinds casting striped shadows across the walls. Taehyung glanced around, his eyes lingering on the framed photos and certificates that lined the walls, reminders of Jiwoong’s long career in law enforcement.
Jiwoong leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady on the mayor. "You know, if you’re really worried about Sunghoon, you should file an official report. It’ll get things moving faster."
Taehyung shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. "You know how it is, Jiwoong. If I file a report, it’ll cause a scene. The last thing I need right now is to have people gossiping about how the mayor’s son's lover has gone missing. It’ll ruin the upcoming festivities."
Jiwoong arched an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth curling into a slight, sardonic smile. "So you’re more concerned about your reputation than his safety?"
The mayor’s eyes narrowed slightly, his tone growing more defensive. "That’s not what I’m saying. Sunghoon’s not a kid; he’s a grown man. But he’s been acting strange lately, and now I can’t reach him. I’m just asking you, as a favor, to help me find him. No reports, no paperwork. Just find him and bring him back."
Jiwoong sighed, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair. "You know, Taehyung, you’re not the first person to come in here asking for a favor without wanting to make it official. But I’ll admit, you did bring me back to Lakewood, and I suppose I owe you one."
Taehyung leaned forward, his expression softening slightly. "Exactly. You’re the town’s hero now, the sheriff who’s going to clean up this mess. Help me out here, and I’ll make sure everyone knows it was you who found Sunghoon."
Jiwoong stared at the mayor for a long moment, weighing his options. He knew Taehyung was playing on his ambitions, but he also knew the mayor was right—this was a favor that could come back around in his favor. "Alright, I’ll look into it. But if I find something that requires more than just a favor, we’re doing this by the book."
A small smile tugged at the corners of Taehyung’s lips. "I knew I could count on you, Jiwoong."
Jiwoong stood, extending his hand. "Just remember, this isn’t a free pass, Taehyung. I’ll find Sunghoon, but after this, we’re even."
Taehyung grasped Jiwoong’s hand, shaking it firmly. "Agreed. Just… make sure he’s alright."
Jiwoong nodded, releasing the mayor’s hand. "I’ll do what I can."
As Taehyung left the office, Jiwoong sat back down, staring at the door for a moment before turning his attention to the task at hand. Finding Sunghoon wasn’t going to be easy, especially without an official report to work off of, but he had his ways. And with the mayor’s favor hanging in the balance, he couldn’t afford to fail.
======================================================
Jaehyun stood by his locker, nervously fidgeting with the strap of his backpack. He glanced down the hallway, spotting Zhang Hao at the far end, chatting with a few classmates. Jaehyun took a deep breath, mentally rehearsing what he wanted to say. He had been working up the courage to ask Zhang Hao to Soobin’s party all day, but now that the moment was here, his nerves were getting the best of him.
Sunoo, who had been watching Jaehyun from a distance, strolled over with a knowing smile. "Need a hand with something?" he asked, leaning casually against the locker next to Jaehyun's.
Jaehyun chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "Is it that obvious?"
Sunoo nodded, glancing down the hallway at Zhang Hao. "You’ve been eyeing him all day. You’re going to ask him to Soobin’s party, right?"
Jaehyun sighed, nodding slightly. "Yeah, but I’m terrible at this stuff. What if he says no?"
Sunoo rolled his eyes playfully. "Oh, please. Zhang Hao is totally into you. He’s been dropping hints left and right. You just need to make a move."
Jaehyun gave Sunoo a skeptical look. "You really think so?"
Sunoo smirked, nudging Jaehyun with his elbow. "Trust me. And besides, who could resist that charming smile of yours?"
Jaehyun chuckled, feeling a little more confident. "Alright, I’ll give it a shot."
As Zhang Hao approached, Sunoo gave Jaehyun a reassuring pat on the back before stepping aside to give him space. Zhang Hao smiled warmly as he reached them. "Hey, Jaehyun. What’s up?"
Jaehyun hesitated for a brief moment, then took a deep breath and smiled. "Hey, Zhang Hao. I was wondering… Soobin’s having a birthday party tonight, and I was thinking… would you like to come with me?"
Zhang Hao’s eyes lit up with surprise and delight. "Really? I’d love to! I wasn’t sure if I’d be invited since I’m still kind of new here."
Jaehyun’s shoulders relaxed as a grin spread across his face. "Of course, you’re invited. I’d be happy to have you there."
Sunoo, who had been eavesdropping from a few steps away, jumped back into the conversation. "Perfect! It’s going to be a lot of fun, Zhang Hao. And hey, if Jaehyun doesn’t treat you right, you can always hang out with me."
Zhang Hao laughed, glancing between the two boys. "Thanks, Sunoo. But I think Jaehyun will do just fine."
Jaehyun blushed slightly but couldn’t hide his smile. "Yeah, I’ll make sure you have a great time."
With plans set, Zhang Hao gave Jaehyun a playful wink. "Alright, I’ll see you both tonight."
As Zhang Hao walked away, Jaehyun turned to Sunoo, still smiling. "Thanks for the assist."
Sunoo grinned, giving Jaehyun a thumbs-up. "Anytime. Now go get ready—you’ve got a date tonight!"
======================================================
Sheriff Jiwoong walked briskly through the halls of George Washington High School, his mind focused on finding answers about Sunghoon’s whereabouts. The school's office was busy, with students and staff moving about, but his presence commanded attention as he approached the front desk.
"Good morning, Sheriff," the receptionist greeted, looking up from her computer with a polite smile. "What can I help you with?"
Jiwoong nodded in acknowledgment, his expression serious. "Morning. I’m looking for some information about one of your students—Park Sunghoon. I’m told he hasn’t been in school for a few days."
The receptionist’s smile faltered slightly as she glanced at the attendance records on her screen. "Let me check that for you." She tapped a few keys and pulled up Sunghoon’s file. "It looks like Sunghoon called in sick on Monday. His voice did sound pretty awful—hoarse, like he was coming down with something. He’s been marked absent ever since."
Jiwoong frowned, not entirely convinced. "And his parents? Have they called in or made contact?"
The receptionist shook her head. "No, we haven’t heard from them. But I know his parents are often out of town for work. It’s not unusual for students to stay home when their parents are away, especially if they’re feeling under the weather."
Jiwoong’s eyes narrowed slightly as he considered the information. "Do you have a way of confirming that Sunghoon was actually sick? Did anyone from the school check on him?"
The receptionist looked a bit uncomfortable, sensing Jiwoong’s skepticism. "Well, we generally don’t check on students unless there’s a specific reason to be concerned. His parents haven’t reached out, and Sunghoon has always been a good student. It didn’t raise any red flags."
"I understand," Jiwoong said, though he didn’t entirely buy the explanation. "I’d like to follow up with him directly. Could you provide me with his address?"
The secretary hesitated, then nodded and provided him with the address. "But you know, Sheriff, students often just need some time to themselves. It might be nothing."
Jiwoong offered a polite but firm nod. "I appreciate the information."
Arriving at Sunghoon's house, Jiwoong noticed the quiet, almost eerie stillness surrounding the property. He approached the front door, knocking firmly. After a few moments with no response, he tried the doorbell, his eyes scanning the yard for any signs of life.
When there was still no answer, Jiwoong pulled out his phone and made a call to the number he had for Sunghoon's parents. The phone rang several times before going to voicemail.
Jiwoong left a message, stating his name and position, and requested that they return his call at their earliest convenience. He then decided to take a look around the exterior of the house.
He peered through the windows, noting that the blinds were drawn, and the interior seemed just as quiet as the outside. Nothing seemed out of place, but the absence of Sunghoon was unsettling.
As he walked back to his car, Jiwoong's mind raced through potential scenarios. The student's sudden disappearance, combined with his recent sick leave and the lack of any obvious signs of disturbance, made the situation increasingly perplexing.
He resolved to continue his investigation, feeling a growing sense of urgency. Something didn’t add up, and he was determined to find out what had really happened to Sunghoon.
======================================================
The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds of Jaehyun's room, casting long shadows across the floor. The space was a mix of organized chaos—clothing strewn about as Jaehyun tried to decide on an outfit for Soobin’s party.
Jaehyun stood in front of his full-length mirror, holding up a crisp white shirt in one hand and a dark blue jacket in the other. His brow was furrowed in concentration.
“Seriously, Beomgyu, I can’t decide,” Jaehyun said, turning to his friend, who was lounging on the bed, scrolling through his phone. “Does this look too formal or too casual?”
Beomgyu glanced up briefly, his attention still largely on his phone. “Honestly, Jaehyun, I think we need to focus on something more important. Like, have you noticed how weird Leehan has been acting lately?”
Jaehyun sighed, shaking his head. “Not this again. Yeah, he’s got that creepy vibe, but that doesn’t mean he’s up to something sinister. Sometimes people just have a mysterious aura. You’re probably just overthinking it.”
Beomgyu’s eyes narrowed as he tried to articulate his concern. “It’s not just the mysterious aura, though. It’s the way he keeps popping up everywhere, the way he seems to know everyone’s business. I don’t know, it just feels off. Like he’s too invested in the Lakewood 6.”
Jaehyun picked up a pair of slim-fit jeans and held them up. “Okay, I get it. But is it really that unusual? Leehan's probably just interested in the town’s drama, or he could be trying to make friends. We’ve all been through a lot. Maybe he’s just trying to fit in.”
Beomgyu leaned forward, his gaze intense. “And what if he’s not? What if he’s been gathering information, trying to manipulate things from the shadows? He’s got that kind of unsettling charm, remember?”
Jaehyun shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re sounding like a character out of a thriller movie. I think you’re letting your paranoia get the best of you. Sometimes a creepy guy is just a creepy guy, not a villain in disguise.”
Beomgyu frowned, clearly frustrated. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am being paranoid. But after everything that’s happened, I can’t just ignore my gut feeling. It’s telling me there’s more to Leehan than meets the eye.”
Jaehyun sighed and put down the clothes, turning to face Beomgyu fully. “Alright, fine. But let’s focus on getting ready for tonight. We can talk more about Leehan later. For now, help me pick this outfit. We’ve got a party to attend, and I’d prefer to look good while being paranoid.”
Beomgyu cracked a small smile, the tension easing slightly. “Okay, okay. But I’m still keeping an eye on Leehan. Just promise me you’ll stay alert, alright?”
Jaehyun nodded, grabbing a stylish blazer from the pile. “Deal. Now, let’s figure out this outfit. I don’t want to be underdressed while we’re out there searching for shadows.”
As they continued to debate over the perfect ensemble, the conversation shifted from Leehan’s unsettling presence to lighter topics. Despite the underlying tension, they managed to focus on preparing for the party, though Beomgyu’s concerns about Leehan remained a background hum in their conversation.
======================================================
Yeonjun and Jiung were sprawled across the living room floor, a chaotic blend of party supplies, decorations, and half-empty bottles. The excitement of planning Soobin's birthday party had somehow turned into an early evening of revelry.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Yeonjun asked, leaning against Jiung, who was pouring them another drink. The room was filled with a warm glow from fairy lights they had strung up, but the atmosphere was decidedly less festive and more relaxed.
Jiung’s eyes were half-lidded, his speech slightly slurred. “Come on, Yeonjun. It’s just a little fun. What’s life without a little bit of chaos?”
Yeonjun chuckled, his own drink starting to take effect. “I guess you have a point.” As he leaned in closer, their faces were inches apart, their lips almost touching. The moment was electric, a heady mix of alcohol and the closeness that both had been feeling.
The sudden sound of the doorbell made them jump apart. “Oh, great timing,” Yeonjun said, smoothing down his shirt as he stood up. “I’ll get it.”
Sunoo stood in the doorway, holding a bottle of tequila and looking a bit out of breath. “Hey guys, I was just dropping this off. Found it on the doorstep. It’s got a card with it.”
Yeonjun frowned, glancing at the card that was awkwardly taped to the bottle. The signature read, “Sunghoon.”
Sunoo’s expression was a mix of confusion and annoyance. “So, Sunghoon’s back in town, and this is his grand gesture? A bottle of tequila left on the doorstep? Seriously?”
Yeonjun took the bottle and card, examining it with a raised eyebrow. “I guess he’s not much for grand entrances.”
Jiung staggered over, peering at the bottle. “Well, that’s just... weird. But at least we have tequila now.”
Sunoo rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of sadness in his voice. “Yeah, great. I really thought he’d come back with something more meaningful than this. It’s just a lame way to learn he’s back.”
Yeonjun nodded sympathetically. “I know it’s not ideal, but maybe he has his reasons for keeping things low-key. Or maybe he just doesn’t know how to make a grand gesture.”
“Or maybe he’s just being an idiot,” Sunoo muttered, taking a swig from the bottle. “Either way, it’s a disappointment.”
Jiung put an arm around Sunoo’s shoulders, trying to comfort him. “Hey, we’ll have a great time at the party tonight. Forget about Sunghoon for now. It’s your day, and you deserve to enjoy it.”
Yeonjun clinked his glass against Sunoo’s. “Here’s to making the most of things, no matter how weird they get.”
Sunoo managed a small smile, lifting his glass. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Cheers to that.”
The three of them took a long swig from their drinks, the tension in the room easing as they tried to focus on the upcoming party and the unexpected turn of events. The tequila might not solve everything, but for now, it was enough to help them forget, even if just for a little while.
======================================================
The house was alive with music and chatter, the living room overflowing with decorations and revelers. The party was in full swing, and Leehan had taken it upon himself to pass out tequila shots to everyone who dared to take one.
Leehan, with a mischievous grin, handed a shot to Jaehyun. “Here you go, buddy. One more for the road!”
Jaehyun took the shot, wincing slightly as the tequila burned down his throat. “This tastes... weird. Doesn’t it smell kind of off to you?” he asked Zhang Hao, who had just received his own shot.
Zhang Hao sniffed his glass and nodded. “Yeah, it does. I thought it was just me.”
As the group continued to drink, Sunoo entered the room, his eyes scanning the crowd. “Hey guys! Thanks for holding the party. I see Leehan’s been busy.” His eyes landed on the bottle Leehan was distributing from. “Where’d you get that tequila, by the way?”
Leehan shrugged. “Found it lying around. Thought it’d be a nice touch.”
Sunoo’s face went pale as he heard the familiar name. “Wait—where’s that from?” He glanced at Beomgyu, who was just stepping into the room. “That bottle—it’s from Sunghoon.”
Beomgyu’s eyes widened in shock. His heart pounded as he realized the implication. “What? Are you serious?” he asked, already turning towards the exit.
Sunoo, looking concerned, reached out. “Beomgyu, where are you going?”
Without answering, Beomgyu sprinted through the crowd, weaving through a throng of confused and slightly tipsy partygoers. His mind raced as he pushed past people who were beginning to clutch their stomachs and look unwell. The room was becoming chaotic as the tequila's effects started taking hold.
Jaehyun and Zhang Hao, seeing Beomgyu’s frantic exit, exchanged worried glances. “What’s going on?” Jaehyun asked.
“I think he’s freaking out about the tequila,” Zhang Hao replied, looking towards the door.
As Beomgyu burst out into the cool night air, he stopped to catch his breath, the realization of the situation hitting him hard. His hands trembled as he took out his phone to call the police. The party’s cheerful atmosphere had quickly turned dark, and he needed answers.
Inside, the partygoers were beginning to show the first signs of the tequila’s strange effects—some clutching their stomachs, others feeling dizzy. Sunoo watched in horror as the scene unfolded, feeling helpless as he tried to manage the growing chaos.
Leehan, standing near the epicenter of the commotion, looked around with a mix of confusion and concern. “What’s happening?” he asked aloud, though it was clear he wasn’t fully aware of the situation.
Sunoo grabbed a few people, trying to make sure they were okay and guiding them to the nearest bathroom. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. “This can’t be happening,” he muttered, trying to keep himself calm despite the rising panic.
As Beomgyu continued to dial the emergency number, he thought of Sunghoon and the implications of the tequila. The night had gone from a celebratory occasion to a nightmare, and he knew he had to act fast to prevent things from getting worse.
======================================================
Beomgyu’s heart raced as he continued pacing outside the house, clutching his phone and ready to call for an ambulance. He was about to dial when he noticed Leehan emerging from the chaos inside, his expression unsettlingly calm.
“Beomgyu!” Leehan called out, waving him over. “You don’t need to call the ambulance.”
Beomgyu, caught off guard, frowned. “What do you mean? Look at what’s happening in there! Everyone’s sick—”
Leehan interrupted, his voice dripping with a mixture of confidence and nonchalance. “It’s not what you think. The tequila had ayahuasca mixed in. It’s causing hallucinations and disorientation, but it’s not dangerous in the short term. They’re not in any real danger.”
Beomgyu stared at him, disbelief and frustration written across his face. “Are you kidding me? How can you be so sure? We need to get them to a hospital.”
“No, listen,” Leehan said, holding up a hand. “I’m telling you, it’s a powerful hallucinogen, but it won’t cause long-term harm. People are just seeing things and feeling nauseous right now. The effects will wear off in a few hours. They just need to ride it out and stay hydrated.”
As if to prove his point, Leehan added, “Trust me, I know how it feels. I’ve used ayahuasca before. It’s wild, but it’s not life-threatening.”
Inside, the atmosphere was growing increasingly surreal. Partygoers were stumbling around, their perceptions distorted by the hallucinogens. The once lively music now sounded like it was coming from underwater, and the room’s colors seemed to swirl and blend in unnatural ways.
Sunoo was trying to help a group of guests who were huddled together, convinced they were being chased by imaginary creatures. “It’s okay, it’s just a bad trip. Try to focus on something real,” he said, though his own sense of reality was becoming tenuous.
Jaehyun, who was sitting on the floor, staring at his hands as if they were made of jelly, looked up at Zhang Hao with wide, frightened eyes. “Are my fingers melting, or is it just me?”
Zhang Hao, who was also struggling to keep his footing, shook his head. “No, Jaehyun, your fingers are fine. We’re all just... hallucinating.”
Meanwhile, Beomgyu, still outside, tried to make sense of Leehan’s explanation. “Okay, if you say so. But why would anyone mix something like that into the tequila? This isn’t just a prank—it’s dangerous.”
Leehan shrugged. “It’s not about being dangerous; it’s about the experience. Some people think it’s a way to heighten the party’s energy or make it more interesting. It’s a stupid idea, but it’s not unheard of.”
Beomgyu rubbed his temples, frustration evident in his voice. “I need to make sure everyone’s okay, and I don’t want to take any chances.”
Leehan nodded, seeming to understand. “Fine. Just check on them and make sure they’re hydrated and calm. But don’t freak out. The effects will wear off, and they’ll be fine.”
As Beomgyu reentered the house, he was greeted by a kaleidoscope of swirling colors and disoriented partygoers. He moved from room to room, offering reassurances and helping where he could, all while trying to keep his own sense of reality in check.
Sunoo, now sitting on the couch next to a sobbing guest, glanced up at Beomgyu with a mixture of relief and concern. “Is everything okay? I mean, it’s not okay, but is it going to get worse?”
Beomgyu shook his head, his voice steady despite the chaos around him. “No, it’s not going to get worse. Leehan says it’s just the effects of the ayahuasca. We just need to get everyone through the night.”
======================================================
Sunoo staggered through the party, trying to make sense of the swirling colors and shifting patterns around him. His eyes fixated on a moving tattoo on his arm that seemed to writhe and stretch in impossible ways. The ink appeared to be alive, squirming with fiery energy that only intensified his disorientation.
As he stumbled past a group of guests huddled together, Sunoo’s vision blurred, and suddenly, he saw Sunghoon materialize out of the haze. The figure of Sunghoon stood before him, looking both familiar and surreal.
“Sunghoon?” Sunoo whispered, his voice trembling. He reached out, but the image seemed to dance just out of his grasp. “Is it really you?”
Sunghoon’s apparition smiled, a serene yet unsettling expression on his face. “You’re burning up with questions, Sunoo. What do you want from me?”
Sunoo’s mind raced, caught between the intoxicating image of Sunghoon and his own growing feelings for Leehan. He clenched his fists, feeling an internal struggle erupting. “I don’t know what’s real anymore,” he muttered. “Is it wrong to have feelings for someone else?”
The hallucination of Sunghoon seemed to dissolve into a swirl of flames, leaving Sunoo more confused than ever. He sank to the floor, trying to piece together his emotions.
Elsewhere in the house, Jiung was busy creating ketchup smiley faces on plates of nachos, his movements erratic but oddly focused. He looked over to see Yeonjun struggling to help Soobin, who was on the verge of passing out.
“Hey, Yeonjun!” Jiung called out, his voice strangely upbeat. “I made some smiley faces! You want one?”
Yeonjun barely glanced up, his attention fixed on Soobin. “Not now, Jiung. Soobin’s not doing well.”
Jiung shrugged and waddled over, grabbing Soobin’s arm to help steady him. “Let’s get him to a more comfortable spot.”
As they carried Soobin to a quieter area, Soobin, his face pale and sweat-drenched, managed to murmur to Yeonjun, “Be careful with Jiung. He... he has a history with pets. Neighborhood pets...”
Yeonjun frowned, looking at Jiung, who was now arranging the ketchup bottles in what looked like a meticulous pattern. “What do you mean? What history?”
Soobin’s eyes were heavy with exhaustion. “Pets went missing. No one could prove anything, but... I heard he had issues...”
Yeonjun’s concern deepened, but he had little time to process it as Jiung continued to be oddly cheerful. “Got him settled!” Jiung announced, gesturing to the makeshift resting area. “He’ll be okay.”
Yeonjun nodded, though his mind was racing with thoughts of Soobin’s warning. He turned back to Sunoo, who was now sitting against the wall, still deeply affected by his hallucinations.
“Sunoo,” Yeonjun said gently, crouching beside him. “You need to try and focus. This will pass. Just breathe.”
Sunoo looked up with glazed eyes. “I thought I saw Sunghoon... He said I was burning with questions. I don’t know what’s real anymore.”
Yeonjun squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “You’re just seeing things because of the ayahuasca. None of it is real. Just try to stay calm, and we’ll get through this.”
The party continued to swirl in chaotic disarray, with each person dealing with their own hallucinations and the reality of the situation. As the night wore on, the effects of the hallucinogen began to fade, leaving behind a group of bewildered but relieved partygoers.
======================================================
Beomgyu stumbled through the haze of the party, his mind a tangled mess of confusion and guilt. As he leaned against the wall, he suddenly saw a vision of Taehyun standing before him, looking both serene and sorrowful.
“Taehyun,” Beomgyu murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen.”
Without thinking, Beomgyu leaned in and kissed the vision, desperate to make amends. To his shock, the image of Taehyun melted away to reveal Jaehyun, who was now caught in the middle of Beomgyu’s heartfelt kiss.
Jaehyun blinked in surprise, his eyes widening as Beomgyu pulled away. “Beomgyu? What’s—”
Before Jaehyun could finish his sentence, Zhang Hao, who had been giggling and swaying slightly, sauntered over. He looked between the two with an amused grin.
“Hey, that looks like fun,” Zhang Hao said, clearly enjoying the scene. He leaned in and kissed Jaehyun, then turned to Beomgyu and planted a kiss on him as well. “Why not?”
The three of them, now caught up in the unexpected moment, began to kiss all at once, their confusion and intoxication blending into a strange, euphoric mix.
Meanwhile, outside, Little Yeonjun appeared, beckoning his older self with a small, inviting wave. Teenage Yeonjun followed, drawn by a mix of curiosity and concern.
“Come on,” Little Yeonjun urged. “I need to show you something.”
As Yeonjun stepped into the dimly lit yard, he felt a chill and turned to see the killer rushing toward him. Panic surged through him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to make the threat disappear.
When he finally dared to open them, the killer was still there, advancing quickly. Yeonjun’s heart raced as he sprinted away, desperately searching for safety.
In his frantic escape, he collided with someone familiar. He looked up to see his father, San, standing there, his face a mix of surprise and concern.
“Dad?” Yeonjun gasped, struggling to catch his breath.
San’s eyes widened. “Yeonjun, what’s happening? Why are you running?”
“There’s someone—” Yeonjun started, but before he could explain, he was interrupted by the sound of the killer’s footsteps drawing closer.
San grabbed Yeonjun’s arm, pulling him away from the scene. “We need to get inside, quickly.”
As they fled, Yeonjun’s mind raced, torn between relief at his father's presence and fear for their safety. The party’s chaos seemed to seep into every corner of Lakewood, and the night was far from over.
======================================================
The first light of dawn filtered through the windows as the police arrived at the scene of the chaotic party. Sheriff Jiwoong, looking tired but determined, stepped into the room, surveying the disheveled aftermath of the night’s events. The remaining partygoers, who had mostly recovered from their hallucinatory state, gathered to explain what had happened.
Yeonjun, still visibly shaken, was the first to speak up. “Sheriff, you have to believe me. I saw someone—I saw the killer in the yard.”
Jiwoong raised an eyebrow, glancing around at the group. “You saw the killer? And you’re sure it wasn’t just the effects of the ayahuasca?”
Yeonjun’s frustration was evident. “I know what I saw. It felt real. But everyone else just thinks it was the drug.”
Soobin, still looking pale but somewhat steadied, nodded in agreement. “We all had weird experiences. The tequila was tainted, and Sunoo said it was from Sunghoon.”
Sunoo, still holding onto the remnants of his anger, added, “It’s true. The card with the bottle was signed by Sunghoon. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now it feels like a sick joke.”
Jiwoong’s eyes narrowed. “So, Sunghoon’s name keeps coming up. But why would he send tainted tequila?”
“I don’t know,” Sunoo admitted, shaking his head. “It’s messed up, but we need to figure out where he is.”
Beomgyu, who had been silent until now, stepped forward. “Sheriff, I think there’s something more to this. Yeonjun’s story about seeing the killer—he’s not the only one with strange experiences. And honestly, I’m not sure we should be focusing all our attention on Sunghoon.”
Jiwoong looked at Beomgyu with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. “Oh? And who do you think we should be investigating instead?”
Beomgyu’s expression was serious. “Leehan. There’s something off about him. He’s been acting strange, and I found some disturbing drawings of the Lakewood 6 in his tablet. The guy is obsessed with us and has a creepy vibe.”
Jiwoong’s gaze shifted to Leehan, who had been lingering in the background, his face a mask of calm. “Leehan? You think he’s involved?”
Leehan, his usual composure slightly faltering, straightened. “I don’t know what they’re talking about. I’m just here to enjoy the party.”
Beomgyu’s eyes were unwavering. “You’re just here to enjoy the party? Yet you’re the one who handed out the tainted tequila and knows way too much about us.”
Jiwoong’s expression hardened. “Alright, we’ll need to look into this further. I appreciate the tip.”
Yeonjun, feeling a mix of relief and unease, glanced at Beomgyu. “Thank you for believing me. Even if nobody else does.”
Beomgyu nodded. “I believe you, Yeonjun. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
As Jiwoong started taking statements and organizing the investigation, Yeonjun, Soobin, and the others were left with a mix of confusion and lingering dread. The night’s events had only added more questions than answers, and the looming presence of both the killer and the enigmatic Leehan cast a dark shadow over their attempts to find clarity.
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As the early morning light began to filter through the curtains, the mood at the scene was somber. The police continued their investigation, and the partygoers were slowly starting to come down from their hallucinogenic high. Yeonjun, still shaken from his encounter with the killer and the intense argument with his father, was sitting on the steps outside, his head resting in his hands.
San, who had been pacing restlessly, approached Yeonjun. His face was drawn with a mix of frustration and determination. “Yeonjun, I’m going to leave now. I need to get some help—professional help. I can’t do this on my own anymore.”
Yeonjun looked up, his eyes red and tired. “Dad… are you sure you want to leave now? I mean, it’s a mess here.”
San sighed heavily. “I know it’s a mess. But I need to take care of myself, and that means getting the right support. I’ve been holding onto this savior complex for too long, trying to fix everything without dealing with my own issues.”
Before Yeonjun could respond, Tiffany arrived at the scene. Her eyes scanned the chaotic aftermath with a mix of concern and exasperation. She noticed San preparing to leave and approached him.
“San, are you really leaving now?” Tiffany’s voice was tight with frustration. “You haven’t even talked to Yeonjun about what happened.”
San’s expression hardened. “I’m doing what I think is best. I need to work on myself before I can be of any help.”
Tiffany’s gaze shifted to Yeonjun. “How are you doing, Yeonjun? Is everything alright?”
Yeonjun forced a weary smile. “I’m okay. Dad… he saved me.”
Tiffany’s eyes narrowed, her frustration shifting towards San. “Saved you? Is that what you’re calling it? You think running off and leaving us in this mess is some kind of rescue?”
San looked between them, clearly distressed. “Tiffany, I’m not abandoning anyone. I just… I need to get myself together. I’m doing this for all of us.”
Tiffany’s anger flared. “You think you’re saving anyone by running off? We need to deal with this as a family. And right now, you’re just adding to the chaos.”
Yeonjun, caught in the crossfire, tried to calm the situation. “Mom, Dad… maybe it’s not the best time to argue. Let’s just… figure things out.”
Tiffany’s expression softened slightly as she looked at Yeonjun. “Alright, fine. We’ll deal with this. But San, you better not think that leaving is going to solve everything.”
San’s face was a mix of guilt and resignation. “I know. I just need to find a way to get better.”
As San left to seek the help he felt he needed, Tiffany turned her attention fully to Yeonjun. Her concern for him was clear, though her frustration with San lingered.
“Yeonjun, are you sure you’re okay? I want to make sure you’re not just putting on a brave face.”
Yeonjun nodded, trying to steady his voice. “I’m okay, Mom. I just need some time to process everything. And maybe… to get away from all this for a bit.”
Tiffany placed a hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder, her expression softening. “We’ll figure this out together. We’ll get through this. But we need to be honest with each other about what’s really happening.”
Yeonjun looked up at his mother, grateful for her support but still reeling from the night’s events. “Thanks, Mom. I just hope we can make sense of all this soon.”
As the day began to unfold, the tension in the air was palpable. Yeonjun and Tiffany were left to navigate the aftermath of the party and the unresolved issues with San, trying to find a way to move forward amidst the chaos.
======================================================
Sheriff Jiwoong’s investigation led him to Leehan’s room, a place that seemed almost eerily untouched. The room was neat, but Jiwoong’s sharp eyes immediately caught the stack of drawings neatly arranged on a desk. He flipped through them, his brows furrowing in concern as he noticed the disturbing depictions of the Lakewood 6, each sketch more unsettling than the last. The images, filled with blood and violence, only deepened Jiwoong’s suspicion.
Among the scattered drawings, Jiwoong’s gaze landed on a familiar sight—the Brandon James mask. It was tucked away in a corner, its presence sending a chill down Jiwoong’s spine. The mask, once associated with terror and murder, now seemed to cast a long shadow over Leehan’s room. Jiwoong’s mind raced as he considered the implications of this new evidence.
The following day, Soobin met with Yeonjun outside the school, the morning sun casting a soft light over the scene. Soobin was his usual supportive self, though his concern was evident. He approached Yeonjun, who was sitting on a bench, lost in thought.
“Hey, Yeonjun,” Soobin said gently, taking a seat beside him. “I’ve been thinking about what happened last night. Maybe... maybe coming back to Lakewood so soon wasn’t the best idea. I mean, with everything that’s been happening, it’s okay to have reservations.”
Yeonjun looked at Soobin, his expression thoughtful but resolute. “You’re right, Soobin. It’s been a lot to handle. But I don’t think running away again would solve anything. I know things are rough right now, but I’m confident that coming back was the right choice for me.”
Soobin nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. “I get that. I just want you to be safe and not feel overwhelmed. But if you’re sure this is where you need to be, then I’m here for you. We all are.”
Yeonjun managed a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks, Soobin. I know it’s been hard for everyone. But I feel like I need to face this head-on, no matter how tough it gets. I can’t keep running from it.”
Soobin placed a comforting hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder. “I admire your courage. Just remember, you don’t have to go through this alone. We’ll get through this together.”
As the two friends shared a quiet moment of understanding, Yeonjun’s resolve only grew stronger. Despite the chaos and the threats lurking around Lakewood, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. Being back in Lakewood wasn’t just about confronting his past—it was about finding a way to move forward, no matter how daunting the path ahead might be.
======================================================
Jaehyun approached Beomgyu with a look of curiosity and concern as they stood in a quiet corner of the school grounds. The party’s aftermath was still weighing heavily on both of them, and Jaehyun’s mind was preoccupied with the night’s strange events.
“Hey, Beomgyu,” Jaehyun began, trying to mask his apprehension with a casual tone, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Why did you apologize before... you know, kissing me? It seemed a bit out of the blue.”
Beomgyu shifted uncomfortably, his face flushing slightly. He scratched the back of his neck, struggling to find the right words. “Oh, that... uh, that was probably just the drugs talking. You know how messed up things got last night. I didn’t mean to make things weird.”
Jaehyun nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. “Alright, if you say so. It’s just... it felt a bit unexpected.”
Beomgyu’s expression softened as he looked at Jaehyun. “I get it. Look, if it makes you feel better, maybe you should focus on someone else for a while. Like Zhang Hao. I think he might be interested in you.”
Jaehyun raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Beomgyu’s suggestion. “Zhang Hao? Really?"
“Yeah,” Beomgyu said with a shrug, “it’s worth a shot. Maybe you should ask him out again or something.”
Jaehyun took Beomgyu’s advice to heart and decided to approach Zhang Hao. The two of them were sitting together in the cafeteria when Jaehyun mustered up the courage to speak.
“Hey, Zhang Hao,” Jaehyun said, trying to sound casual, “I was thinking maybe we could go out again sometime. You know, have another date?”
Zhang Hao looked up from his meal, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. After a moment of silence, he shook his head gently. “Thanks for the offer, Jaehyun, but I think I’ll have to pass this time.”
Jaehyun’s face fell slightly, surprised by the response. “Oh, really? Why?”
Zhang Hao leaned in slightly, his eyes meeting Jaehyun’s with a hint of seriousness. “It’s just... I’ve been thinking. Maybe you have more feelings for Beomgyu than you realize. And I don’t want to be the rebound or something. It’s better if you figure out what you really want.”
Jaehyun blinked, taken aback by Zhang Hao’s perceptiveness. “You think so?”
“Yeah,” Zhang Hao replied with a small smile, “sometimes it’s clearer to see these things from the outside. Maybe it’s worth exploring what you really feel.”
Jaehyun sat back, digesting Zhang Hao’s words. It was clear that the night’s events had stirred up more emotions than he had anticipated. He glanced over at Beomgyu, who was now standing at a distance, seemingly watching the interaction with a hint of concern.
“Thanks, Zhang Hao,” Jaehyun said, offering a genuine smile. “I appreciate your honesty.”
As Zhang Hao nodded in acknowledgment, Jaehyun couldn’t help but feel a mix of confusion and clarity. It seemed that the tangled web of emotions and relationships in Lakewood was only growing more complex, and figuring out where his own heart truly lay would be a challenge he would have to face head-on.
======================================================
The gymnasium at George Washington High School buzzed with excitement as students gathered for the Prince of the Lake assembly. The stage was decked out in glittering lights and festive decorations, setting the scene for the big reveal of the finalists. Sunoo paced nervously behind the curtains, his heart pounding as he rehearsed his apology to Leehan one last time.
As Leehan approached, Sunoo took a deep breath and made his way over. “Hey, Leehan,” Sunoo began, forcing a smile. “I wanted to apologize for the misunderstanding earlier. I know I didn’t handle things well.”
Leehan looked up from his phone, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? Apology accepted, I guess. Just don’t let it happen again.”
Sunoo nodded, relieved to have cleared the air, though the tension between them was still palpable. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Meanwhile, Yeonjun was doing his best to avoid Jiung, who had been persistently trying to talk to him about Soobin’s birthday. Yeonjun’s frustration had been building, and he snapped as they walked towards the assembly. “Look, Jiung, I don’t want to hear any more excuses. You lied about Soobin’s birthday. I trusted you, and you messed it up.”
Jiung’s face fell, but before he could respond, Yeonjun turned on his heel and headed into the gym, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. He found a spot near the back, trying to focus on the assembly and shake off the lingering anger.
As the lights dimmed, the host’s voice boomed through the PA system. “Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve all been waiting for—let’s welcome our five finalists for Prince of the Lake!”
The crowd erupted in applause as the finalists were announced one by one. Zhang Hao and Sunoo both received enthusiastic cheers as they were called to the stage. Sunoo tried to maintain his composure, but his nerves were evident.
Just as the host began to make some closing remarks, a large banner dropped from the ceiling, its vibrant colors contrasting sharply with the darkness of the gym. But as the banner unfurled, it wasn’t just a celebration of the finalists—it was a horrifying revelation.
The cheers quickly turned to screams as a cascade of blood spilled from behind the banner. Sunoo’s face went pale as the body of Sunghoon fell to the stage, his lifeless form a ghastly sight amidst the shower of red. The crowd gasped, and Sunoo’s scream cut through the chaos, a raw sound of horror and despair.
Yeonjun’s eyes widened in shock as he saw the body of Sunghoon. He felt a cold shiver run down his spine, the earlier anger and frustration replaced by a deep sense of dread. The assembly that was supposed to be a moment of celebration had turned into a nightmare.
Zhang Hao, standing beside Sunoo, looked equally horrified. He tried to comfort Sunoo, but the sight of Sunghoon’s body made it clear that no amount of consolation could ease the shock.
In the pandemonium, the gymnasium was flooded with police officers and emergency personnel as Sheriff Jiwoong rushed in, his face grim as he took in the scene. The assembly, which had promised to be a highlight of the school year, had become the latest chapter in Lakewood’s dark and troubling saga.
Yeonjun, struggling to process the scene unfolding before him, found himself lost in a sea of terrified students and flashing lights. He could only stand by helplessly as the reality of Sunghoon’s death sank in, wondering what other horrors Lakewood had in store.
Chapter 15: Dawn of the Dead
Chapter Text
Minutes after Sunghoon’s bloodied, disgusting, and downright unpleasant-smelling corpse fell from the rafters and landed at Sunoo’s feet, the school descended into chaos. The gym, once filled with excitement, now reeked of fear and panic. Word of the grisly discovery spread like wildfire, and the entire campus went into immediate lockdown.
But that didn’t stop Yeonjun and Beomgyu. In a move straight out of the Final Girl handbook, they refused to sit idly by. As the police and school officials tried to contain the situation, Yeonjun and Beomgyu pushed through the frantic crowds, determination etched on their faces.
“We need to see Sunoo,” Yeonjun said firmly to the officer guarding the hallway leading to the infirmary, where Sunoo had been taken to recover from the shock.
The officer shook his head, holding up a hand to stop them. “No one’s allowed in. We’re under lockdown, and he’s being attended to.”
Beomgyu stepped forward, his expression hardening. “We’re his best friends. We’ve been through this before—the last time people were getting murdered. He needs us.”
The officer looked between the two, recognizing the urgency in their voices. He hesitated for a moment before sighing. “All right, but make it quick. Don’t get in the way of the investigation.”
Yeonjun and Beomgyu nodded, not wasting any time as they were allowed past the barricade. They made their way down the dimly lit hallway, the weight of the situation settling heavily on their shoulders.
When they reached the infirmary, they found Sunoo sitting on a cot, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He looked pale, his eyes wide and unfocused, still in shock from the horrifying scene.
“Sunoo,” Yeonjun said softly, kneeling in front of him. “We’re here.”
Sunoo’s eyes slowly focused on Yeonjun, and then Beomgyu, standing beside him. A flicker of relief passed over his face, but it was quickly overshadowed by the trauma of what had just happened.
“I... I didn’t think it could get worse,” Sunoo whispered, his voice trembling. “But seeing him like that...”
“We know,” Beomgyu said, pulling up a chair to sit next to Sunoo. “This is messed up, even by Lakewood standards.”
Yeonjun gently placed a hand on Sunoo’s shoulder. “We’re going to get through this, just like last time. We won’t let anything happen to you.”
Sunoo swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Why did it have to be Sunghoon? He was...he was a friend.”
“I don’t know,” Beomgyu replied, his voice low. “But we’re going to find out who’s behind this. We’re not going to let them get away with it.”
The three of them sat in heavy silence for a moment, the weight of their words sinking in. Despite the horror that had just unfolded, there was a sense of solidarity between them—a bond forged in the fires of Lakewood’s dark history.
As the chaos continued outside the infirmary, with police officers rushing to and fro, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, and Sunoo huddled together, drawing strength from each other. They knew that the nightmare wasn’t over—not by a long shot—but they were determined to face whatever came next, together.
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Later, the gymnasium was eerily quiet, the air thick with the metallic scent of blood and the tension of a gruesome discovery. Sunoo stood on stage, still drenched in Sunghoon’s blood, his clothes sticky and heavy with it. The authorities, who were frantically trying to preserve the crime scene, had forced him to stay in place for photographs. The absurdity of it all wasn’t lost on him; here he was, covered in blood, standing awkwardly under the harsh stage lights like some macabre statue.
Sunoo's legs trembled, not just from shock but from the strain of holding his pose. He cast a desperate glance at the officer fiddling with the camera, who seemed to be taking forever to get the shot just right.
"Is this really necessary?" Sunoo muttered, his voice shaking. "I mean, can't you just... Photoshop me in later or something?"
The officer didn’t even look up from his camera. “Sorry, kid. We need everything exactly as it was.”
Sunoo rolled his eyes, biting back a sarcastic comment. He was cold, uncomfortable, and the last thing he wanted was to be immortalized in this ridiculous position. His mind raced, trying to distract itself from the nightmare he was living.
"Are we done yet?" Sunoo asked, his voice tinged with impatience as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
"Almost," the officer replied, snapping another photo. "Hold still."
“Hold still,” Sunoo repeated under his breath, his frustration bubbling over. “Yeah, because I’m really enjoying standing here, dripping with someone else’s blood.”
A forensic technician walked by, holding a clipboard and seemingly oblivious to Sunoo’s predicament. “Hey, could someone grab me a latte? This might take a while.”
Sunoo groaned. “Seriously? I’m standing in blood here, and you’re worried about coffee?”
The technician finally looked up, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Oh, right. Sorry, kid. Hang in there.”
Sunoo rolled his eyes again, muttering something about how he should have skipped the assembly altogether. Just then, Yeonjun and Beomgyu appeared at the edge of the stage, both looking equally horrified and amused by the sight in front of them.
“Sunoo, you okay?” Yeonjun called out, trying to stifle a laugh. “You look like you’re posing for some twisted school play.”
“Not funny,” Sunoo shot back, though a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “This is the worst day of my life.”
Beomgyu snorted. “Yeah, I’d say it’s pretty high up there.”
The officer finally put down his camera, giving Sunoo the signal that he could move. Sunoo immediately stepped off the blood-soaked spot, shaking his head as he made his way to Yeonjun and Beomgyu.
“This better be worth it,” Sunoo grumbled, rubbing his arms to get some warmth back. “If I find out these photos end up on some true crime blog, I’m going to lose it.”
Yeonjun draped an arm around Sunoo’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure they don’t.”
“Yeah,” Beomgyu added with a smirk. “Besides, who needs the Prince of the Lake crown when you’ve got a new title: Bloodiest Scene Stealer.”
Sunoo groaned, but this time there was a hint of laughter in his voice. “I hate you both.”
But as absurd as the situation was, having his friends there made it a little more bearable. The three of them walked away from the stage, leaving the crime scene behind, knowing that while the nightmare wasn’t over, at least they could face it together—with a touch of dark humor to get them through.
======================================================
The mood at George Washington High School had shifted from one of anticipation to dread, the assembly hall's earlier excitement now replaced with the cold, sharp reality of another brutal murder. With the school under lockdown, Sheriff Jiwoong seized the moment, determined to get answers before anyone else could become a victim. He had ordered the remaining five members of the Lakewood 6 to be gathered in a small, dimly lit classroom that now served as an impromptu interrogation room.
The tension was palpable as the five teenagers sat in silence, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on each of them. Jaehyun fidgeted with his fingers, trying to suppress the anxiety bubbling up inside him. Yeonjun leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on a spot on the floor, while Beomgyu sat beside him, biting his lip in an attempt to keep his nerves at bay. Sunoo was still visibly shaken, his mind replaying the horrific scene over and over, and Soobin, though calm on the surface, had a hard edge in his gaze as he looked around the room.
Sheriff Jiwoong entered the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He paused for a moment, scanning each of their faces, as if trying to gauge their thoughts before he spoke.
"I know this has been a traumatic day for all of you," Jiwoong began, his tone firm but not without a trace of empathy. "But I need you to understand something—Sunghoon’s murder is the latest in a series of killings that we cannot afford to ignore. The sooner we find out what’s going on, the sooner we can put a stop to it.”
Yeonjun, usually the first to voice his thoughts, remained silent, his jaw clenched as he stared straight ahead. Jiwoong noticed this but decided to start with someone else.
"Sunoo," Jiwoong said, turning to the boy who had been at the epicenter of the morning’s horror. "I need you to walk me through what happened, step by step."
Sunoo nodded shakily, trying to collect himself before speaking. "We were at the assembly... they called Zhang Hao and me to the stage, and then, out of nowhere, the banner dropped, and—" He swallowed hard, his voice trembling. "And so did Sunghoon."
Jiwoong leaned in, his expression serious. "Did you see anyone or anything suspicious before that happened? Anyone who might have had access to the rafters?"
Sunoo shook his head. "No, nothing. It all happened so fast, and I was just... I was in shock."
Jiwoong nodded, moving on to Yeonjun. "You’ve been through this kind of thing before. Did anything stand out to you today, anything that felt off?"
Yeonjun hesitated, his mind racing. He had been through hell once already, and now it felt like he was being dragged back into it. "I... I don’t know. There’s always something off in this town. But today... today was just chaos."
Jiwoong pressed further. "And what about the attack you said happened during the party? Do you still believe it was real?"
Yeonjun looked up sharply, his eyes meeting Jiwoong's. "It *was* real," he insisted. "I know what I saw. But no one else believes me."
Beomgyu placed a hand on Yeonjun's arm, offering silent support before turning to Jiwoong. "He’s telling the truth, Sheriff. I believe him. But I also think we need to be looking at everyone. No one’s off the table, not even your son."
The room fell into a tense silence as Jiwoong's eyes narrowed slightly. He knew Beomgyu was referring to Leehan, and while the idea was unsettling, he couldn’t afford to dismiss anything at this point.
"I’ve already looked into that," Jiwoong replied coolly, his gaze steady. "But if you have anything concrete, now’s the time to share it."
Beomgyu hesitated, unsure how much to reveal about his suspicions and the twisted comic he had found. "Just... keep an eye on him, okay? There’s something about him that doesn’t sit right with me."
Jaehyun, who had been quiet up until now, finally spoke up. "This whole thing is a mess, Sheriff. Whoever’s behind this, they’re not just after one of us—they’re targeting all of us, just like before."
Soobin, who had been listening intently, finally added his voice. "We’re all in danger. Whoever’s doing this wants to pick us off one by one. We have to stick together, or none of us will make it out."
Jiwoong sighed, the weight of their words settling on him. He knew they were right. This wasn’t just about one murder—it was a game, and they were all pawns in it.
"Alright," Jiwoong said, his tone resolute. "I’ll be keeping you all under close watch. But I need you to do something for me too—stay alert, stay safe, and if you see or hear anything, you come to me immediately. We can’t afford to lose anyone else."
The Lakewood 6 nodded in agreement, a mix of fear and determination in their eyes. As Jiwoong left the room, they knew they were walking a tightrope between survival and becoming the next victims. The game was far from over, and the only way to win was to outlast the killer—whoever they were, and wherever they might strike next.
======================================================
After the tense interrogation, the Lakewood 6 were finally allowed to leave the claustrophobic confines of the small classroom, each of them lost in their own thoughts. The atmosphere between them was heavy, the kind of silence that only comes after brushing too close to death. As they dispersed, Beomgyu couldn't shake the nagging feeling in his gut—something wasn’t right.
He kept a watchful eye on Sunoo, who was still visibly shaken, his eyes darting around as if expecting the killer to jump out from any corner. As they walked down the hallway, Beomgyu noticed Sunoo clutching his phone tightly, occasionally glancing at it with a furrowed brow. The curiosity gnawed at him until he couldn't take it anymore.
"Sunoo, can I see your phone for a second?" Beomgyu asked casually, trying to keep his tone light.
Sunoo looked at him, surprised. "Why?"
"I just need to check something real quick," Beomgyu replied, feigning nonchalance. "Won’t take long, promise."
Sunoo hesitated but eventually handed over the phone. "Don’t mess with anything, okay? I’m already freaked out enough as it is."
Beomgyu nodded, offering a reassuring smile, but as soon as Sunoo turned away, he quickly swiped through the recent messages. His heart sank as he saw the thread with "Sunghoon." The messages were recent, too recent. Sunghoon had supposedly been texting Sunoo even during the assembly, a time when Sunghoon’s lifeless body had already been dangling above the stage.
*How is this possible?* Beomgyu thought, his mind racing. The messages were unsettling, full of cryptic comments and seemingly innocent questions that took on a much darker tone now that he knew the truth. His blood boiled as he scrolled through the texts, anger flaring up inside him.
The killer was taunting them, playing with their minds, and using Sunoo’s grief and confusion to do it. The rage built up in Beomgyu’s chest until he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then quickly opened a new message in Sunoo’s phone, typing furiously.
"You think you’re clever, don’t you? You think you’ve won? But you’re nothing. You’re a coward hiding behind a screen, a mask. I swear, I’ll make you pay for what you’ve done. We’re coming for you."
He hit send, the message flying off into the void. It felt good, cathartic even, to throw that anger back at the faceless monster that was tormenting them. But as soon as he sent it, doubt crept in. Had he just made things worse? Had he just put Sunoo in more danger?
Beomgyu quickly deleted the message from the sent folder, hoping Sunoo wouldn’t notice anything amiss. He handed the phone back with a tight smile.
"Thanks," he said, his voice a bit too bright. "Just needed to check something."
Sunoo took the phone back, eyeing him suspiciously. "You sure you’re okay?"
"Yeah, I’m fine," Beomgyu lied, already feeling the weight of his actions pressing down on him. "Just... be careful, okay? We don’t know what’s going to happen next."
Sunoo nodded, still unconvinced, but too tired to argue. As they parted ways, Beomgyu’s mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He knew he had crossed a line, but it felt like the only way to fight back, the only way to show the killer they weren’t afraid.
But as he walked away, his heart pounded in his chest, a sickening realization settling in: by sending that message, he might have just painted an even bigger target on Sunoo’s back.
======================================================
Yeonjun sat at the corner of the library, staring down at the phone in his hand. His heart pounded as the screen glowed ominously in the dim light of his room. The phone wasn’t his. It was Sunghoon’s.
He didn’t know how it had ended up in his bag, but there it was, a cold and heavy presence that made his stomach churn. He flipped through the messages, feeling a growing sense of unease. The last one was a text from Beomgyu, venomous and filled with rage:
*"You think you’re clever, don’t you? You think you’ve won? But you’re nothing. You’re a coward hiding behind a screen, a mask. I swear, I’ll make you pay for what you’ve done. We’re coming for you."*
Yeonjun’s breath hitched as he read the words over and over again, his mind racing. Why had this message been sent to Sunghoon’s phone? And why was Sunghoon’s phone in his bag? The realization hit him like a truck—it had been planted there, and now he was the one holding it, as if the killer had orchestrated this entire situation just to mess with him.
Panic welled up inside him. His first instinct was to turn the phone over to the police, but something stopped him. He was still reeling from everything that had happened—his dad’s return, the nightmare at the assembly, and now this. It felt like too much all at once, and the thought of facing more questions, more suspicion, made his head spin.
He needed advice, but he knew his judgment was clouded, so he called the only people he could think of who might help—or at least wouldn’t judge him too harshly.
Jaehyun and Sunoo arrived quickly, concern etched on their faces. "What’s going on?" Jaehyun asked, plopping down on the floor beside him.
Sunoo hovered near the door, his eyes darting around nervously. "You sounded weird on the phone, Yeonjun. What’s up?"
Yeonjun hesitated, then handed Sunghoon’s phone to Jaehyun, who frowned as he looked it over. "It was in your bag?" he asked, eyebrows raised.
"Yeah," Yeonjun replied, his voice tight with anxiety. "I don’t know how it got there. And then... there’s this." He pointed to Beomgyu’s message, and Jaehyun’s eyes widened.
Sunoo leaned over Jaehyun’s shoulder, reading the message. "Whoa, that’s intense," he muttered. "Beomgyu’s really mad. But why would the killer send this to you? Or... wait, does Beomgyu think you’re the killer?"
"No!" Yeonjun said quickly, shaking his head. "At least... I don’t think so? But now I don’t know what to do. Should I turn it in? Or... maybe just get rid of it?"
Jaehyun scratched his head, clearly conflicted. "Well, if you turn it in, they’re going to start asking you a lot of questions, especially about how you got it. Do you really want to deal with that right now?"
Yeonjun’s stomach twisted. "No... but hiding it feels wrong too."
Sunoo bit his lip, thinking hard. "What if we, like, ditch it somewhere? Somewhere it won’t be found? Or maybe just toss it in the lake or something?"
"That sounds risky," Jaehyun countered. "What if someone sees us? And then it looks like we’re trying to cover something up. Plus, if we destroy it, we lose any potential evidence that could help us figure out who the real killer is."
Yeonjun sighed, running his hands through his hair. "I don’t want to make this worse, but... I’m so scared. What if they think I’m involved? I don’t even know how this got in my bag!"
Sunoo placed a hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder, offering a small, supportive smile. "We’re with you, whatever you decide. But maybe... maybe it’s best to just keep it hidden for now. At least until we can figure out what to do next."
Jaehyun nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, let’s not rush into anything. We’ll keep it safe, and we can decide together what to do when we’re thinking clearly."
Yeonjun felt a tiny bit of relief wash over him. "Okay... okay, let’s do that. But we need to be careful. If anyone finds out I have this, it could be really bad."
"Agreed," Jaehyun said, slipping the phone into a drawer. "For now, let’s just keep this between us."
They all exchanged nervous glances, knowing that this secret could either save them—or destroy them.
======================================================
Zhang Hao sat in the quiet corner of the school library, the weight of everything that had happened recently pressing down on him like a heavy blanket. The dim light overhead cast long shadows on the worn pages of the book in his hands, but he wasn’t really reading. His eyes traced the lines of text, but his mind was elsewhere, replaying the scenes from the party.
He could still see Jaehyun’s lips on Beomgyu’s, the way they had been so caught up in each other, like the rest of the world didn’t exist. And for Zhang Hao, in that moment, it felt like his world had tilted on its axis, the ground shifting beneath his feet. It was silly, he knew that. Jaehyun wasn’t his boyfriend, not even close. But the crush he’d nursed for months had made the sight unbearable.
He shifted in his seat, trying to focus on the book in front of him. The title stared back at him: *Mind Games: The Psychology of Murder*, by a crime novelist whose work had apparently inspired the hit CBS TV series *Criminal Minds*. It was a fitting choice, given the circ*mstances. Zhang Hao had picked it up almost on a whim, hoping that maybe diving into a fictional world of crime and mystery might help him make sense of the real-life horror show they were all caught up in.
But the words on the page felt distant, like they were happening in another universe. His mind kept drifting back to Jaehyun, to that stupid party, to the blood-soaked horror that had followed. Even now, the memory of Sunghoon’s body crashing to the stage sent a shiver down his spine. The entire school had been thrown into chaos, but somehow, amidst all the terror, his own petty jealousy still managed to claw at his insides.
“Hey.”
Zhang Hao looked up, startled by the sudden interruption. Jaehyun was standing in front of him, looking nervous and unsure.
“Can I sit?” Jaehyun asked, gesturing to the empty seat across from him.
Zhang Hao hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Sure.”
Jaehyun sat down, fidgeting slightly with the edge of his jacket. “I... uh, I saw you over here and thought maybe we could talk?”
“Talk?” Zhang Hao echoed, his voice sharper than he intended. He quickly softened his tone. “About what?”
“About... the party,” Jaehyun said, his eyes searching Zhang Hao’s face. “And everything that happened.”
Zhang Hao stiffened, his fingers gripping the edges of the book. “What about it?”
Jaehyun sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know what you saw, and I’m sorry if it upset you. Things just got a little crazy, and... well, you know how it is.”
Zhang Hao frowned, his gaze dropping back to the book. “Yeah, I know. But it’s not like it matters, right? You can kiss whoever you want.”
Jaehyun leaned forward, his voice softening. “It does matter, though. I don’t want you to think that... I don’t know, that I don’t care about how you feel. Because I do.”
Zhang Hao felt a flicker of hope, but he quickly squashed it down. “Look, Jaehyun, it’s fine. You don’t owe me anything. We’re just... friends.”
Jaehyun nodded slowly, though his expression was tinged with regret. “Yeah, I guess we are. But that doesn’t mean I want to hurt you, Hao. I don’t want things to be weird between us.”
Zhang Hao finally looked up, meeting Jaehyun’s eyes. “They won’t be weird,” he said, though he wasn’t entirely sure he believed it himself. “But maybe we should just focus on other things for now. Like, you know, the fact that people are getting murdered.”
Jaehyun gave a half-hearted laugh. “Yeah, there’s that. I guess everything else seems pretty small in comparison, huh?”
Zhang Hao nodded, forcing a smile. “Exactly. So let’s just... keep our heads on straight and try not to get distracted by... other stuff.”
Jaehyun looked like he wanted to say more, but instead, he just nodded in agreement. “Okay. But if you ever need to talk... about anything, I’m here.”
“Thanks,” Zhang Hao replied, his voice quiet. He watched as Jaehyun got up to leave, a small pang of regret tugging at his chest. Maybe in another world, another time, things could have been different. But right now, they had bigger problems.
As Jaehyun walked away, Zhang Hao let out a slow breath and turned his attention back to the book. He forced himself to read the words, to dive into the twisted psychology of fictional killers and try to forget, if only for a little while, the chaos of the real world outside the library’s walls.
======================================================
Soobin's heart raced as he made his way through the now eerily silent school corridors. The lockdown had turned the place into a ghost town, but he couldn't afford to get caught up in the fear. He had a mission, and it had to be done before the authorities combed through every inch of the building.
His locker was just ahead, its dull metal door looking more like a portal to salvation than a simple storage space. As he approached, Soobin fumbled with the combination, his fingers trembling slightly. The lock clicked open, and he swung the door wide, eyes quickly scanning the contents. There, hidden beneath a pile of books and a spare hoodie, was the small handgun.
Soobin hesitated for a moment, the weight of the situation crashing down on him. He hadn't meant for things to escalate this far, but with everything happening—the murders, the constant sense of being hunted—he had felt like he had no choice. It was his way of being prepared, of taking control in a world that was spiraling into chaos.
But now, standing in the middle of the school with a gun in his hand, he felt the full gravity of what he was doing. He wasn't a killer, he reminded himself. He just wanted to protect his friends, to make sure no one else got hurt.
"Hey, what do you think you're doing?"
Soobin jumped, spinning around to see one of the deputies standing a few feet away, eyes narrowing as he took in the scene. The deputy's hand hovered near his holster, ready to draw if necessary.
Soobin's mind raced, desperately searching for an explanation that wouldn’t get him thrown in a cell. "I—I'm sorry," he stammered, lowering the gun but not daring to let go of it. "I wasn’t... I mean, it’s not what it looks like."
The deputy raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but not yet reaching for his own weapon. "You’ve got a gun in your hand in the middle of a school during a lockdown. That’s usually not a good sign, kid."
Soobin swallowed hard, feeling the sweat bead on his forehead. "I wasn’t going to use it," he insisted. "Not unless I had to. It’s just... with everything that’s been happening, I wanted to protect my friends. I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing."
The deputy’s expression softened slightly, though the wariness didn’t completely fade from his eyes. "Protect your friends, huh?"
Soobin nodded earnestly, trying to convey the sincerity of his intentions. "I know it sounds crazy, but the killer... they’re targeting us. The Lakewood Six. I couldn’t let that happen again. Not without a fight."
The deputy studied him for a long moment, then sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I get it. This town’s been through a lot. And I know you kids have seen more than anyone your age should ever have to see. But this... carrying a gun? It’s not the answer."
Soobin bit his lip, a mix of relief and anxiety churning in his stomach. "I know," he said quietly. "I just didn’t know what else to do."
The deputy nodded slowly, taking a step closer. "You’re scared. That’s understandable. But you’re not alone in this. Let us do our job, okay? We’ll protect you. But you have to trust us."
Soobin hesitated, then slowly extended the gun toward the deputy. His hands were shaking, but he forced himself to let go as the deputy carefully took the weapon from him.
"Good call," the deputy said, giving him a reassuring nod. "Now, why don’t you come with me? We’ll sort this out, and I’ll make sure the sheriff knows you were just trying to do the right thing."
Soobin nodded, feeling the tension slowly start to drain from his body. He had been prepared to face the killer, but now, as he walked beside the deputy, he realized just how close he had come to crossing a line he might never have returned from.
======================================================
In the dim light of the library, the atmosphere was heavy with tension. Yeonjun sat at a secluded table, his fingers trembling slightly as he held Sunghoon's phone. The weight of what he was doing bore down on him, a mix of fear and guilt swirling in his chest. The screen of the phone flickered as he navigated through the messages, each one a potential clue—or a trap. He had to be careful.
Jiung approached the table with an air of nonchalance, though his eyes were sharp and calculating as they fixed on the phone in Yeonjun's hand. "What are you doing with that?" he asked casually, pulling out a chair and sitting down opposite Yeonjun. His voice was light, but there was an edge to it that Yeonjun couldn’t ignore.
Yeonjun glanced up, trying to mask his unease with a forced smile. "Just... trying to figure things out," he replied, his voice tight. He quickly locked the screen and slid the phone under a book, but Jiung had already seen enough.
Jiung leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he studied Yeonjun. "You know, if you’re worried about someone finding out you have that, I could help you get rid of it," he offered, his tone deliberately nonchalant. "No one has to know."
Yeonjun hesitated, his mind racing. Jiung's offer was tempting—he wanted nothing more than to rid himself of this burden, to put the whole nightmare behind him. But something about Jiung's easy demeanor made him uneasy. "I appreciate it, Jiung, but... I don’t know if that’s a good idea."
Before Jiung could respond, the library door creaked open, and Soobin walked in, his expression a mix of determination and regret. He spotted Yeonjun and Jiung at the table and made a beeline for them. Yeonjun’s heart sank as he saw the look in Soobin’s eyes—he knew something was up.
"Soobin," Yeonjun started, forcing a smile as his friend approached. "What’s going on?"
Soobin glanced nervously between Yeonjun and Jiung before his gaze settled on Yeonjun. "Yeonjun, I’m sorry," he said softly, his voice heavy with guilt. "But I had to tell them."
Yeonjun felt the blood drain from his face. "Tell them what?" he asked, though deep down, he already knew the answer.
Soobin bit his lip, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I told the sheriff about the phone," he confessed, his words almost a whisper. "I thought it was the right thing to do. If we hide things, it’s just going to make everything worse."
Yeonjun stared at him in disbelief, a mix of betrayal and anger rising in his chest. "You told them?" he repeated, his voice shaking. "Why would you do that, Soobin? I thought we were in this together."
"I know, I know," Soobin said quickly, reaching out as if to comfort him. "But think about it, Yeonjun. If they find out on their own, it’s going to look so much worse. This way, maybe we can explain, maybe they’ll understand."
Jiung watched the exchange with a raised eyebrow, his earlier offer now void. He could see the panic in Yeonjun's eyes, the realization that things were spiraling out of control.
Yeonjun clenched his fists, struggling to keep his emotions in check. "You didn’t have to do this," he muttered, feeling trapped. "I could’ve figured it out."
Before anyone could say more, the library doors swung open again, and two deputies entered, their faces serious. "Yeonjun Choi?" one of them called, their eyes scanning the room until they landed on him.
Yeonjun froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt Soobin’s hand on his arm, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at him.
"You’re going to need to come with us," the deputy said, stepping forward. "We need to ask you some questions about a phone you’ve been holding onto."
Jiung remained silent, watching as Yeonjun stood up, his shoulders tense with the weight of the situation. There was no escaping this now. The authorities had him, and whatever happened next was out of his hands.
As the deputies led Yeonjun out of the library, Soobin lingered behind, his eyes full of regret. "I’m sorry, Yeonjun," he whispered to himself, knowing there was no taking back what he’d done. He had only wanted to help, but now he feared he might have made everything worse.
======================================================
Sheriff Jiwoong’s office was unusually quiet as he led Yeonjun into a small, dimly lit classroom repurposed for questioning. The room was sparsely furnished, with a single metal table and two chairs positioned in the center. The walls were adorned with faded posters and outdated educational charts, adding to the stark, clinical atmosphere.
Yeonjun took a seat, his movements stiff and deliberate. The tension in his shoulders was palpable as he glanced at the sheriff, who was seated across from him, shuffling through a stack of papers.
"Alright, Yeonjun," Sheriff Jiwoong began, his tone professional but tinged with an underlying urgency. "We need to talk about the phone you were found with. Can you explain why you had it and what you know about it?"
Yeonjun stared at the sheriff, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," he said firmly. "I’ve been framed. I don’t have any idea how I ended up with that phone."
Jiwoong leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. "We have evidence that you were in possession of Sunghoon's phone, which was found under suspicious circ*mstances. We need to understand your connection to it."
Yeonjun took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. "Look, I know it looks bad, but I swear I didn’t have anything to do with it. I’m being set up. I mean, think about it—I'm like the final girl in a horror movie. It doesn’t make sense for me to be the killer."
Jiwoong’s expression remained impassive as he continued to scrutinize Yeonjun. "Final girl? That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?"
Yeonjun's frustration was evident as he leaned forward, his voice rising slightly. "No, I’m serious. I’ve been through enough of this mess. I know I’m not the killer. I’m just trying to figure out who is and why they’re framing me."
Sheriff Jiwoong remained silent for a moment, processing Yeonjun’s words. He picked up a pencil and tapped it thoughtfully against the edge of the table. "If you’re telling the truth, then someone is playing a dangerous game with you. But we need more than just your word."
Yeonjun’s eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and desperation. "I’m telling you the truth! I don’t know why or how I ended up with the phone, but I didn’t do this. I’ve been trying to get to the bottom of this whole mess, just like you."
Jiwoong studied Yeonjun’s face, searching for any signs of deceit. "Alright, Yeonjun. If you’re not involved, then we need to find out who is. We’re going to look into everything you’ve told us and see if there’s any way to corroborate your story. In the meantime, try to stay out of trouble."
Yeonjun nodded, though his expression was far from relieved. He stood up slowly, the weight of the situation heavy on his shoulders. "I’ll do my best. But please, find out who’s really behind all of this. I need to clear my name."
As Yeonjun left the classroom, Sheriff Jiwoong watched him go, his mind racing with the possibilities. The pieces of the puzzle were still scattered, and he had to figure out how they all fit together before it was too late.
======================================================
As Yeonjun exited the classroom, he could still feel the sting of Sheriff Jiwoong's scrutiny. The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly before him, the fluorescent lights flickering overhead. He was lost in his thoughts, barely noticing the crowd of students milling about. That is, until a sharp voice cut through the din.
"Hey, look who’s back from his interrogation!" Yuna’s voice was laced with mocking glee as she emerged from a group of onlookers. Her eyes sparkled with malicious intent as she fixed her gaze on Yeonjun. "Survived the first wave, did you? Guess you're just too lucky to get picked off like the rest of us."
Yeonjun’s heart sank. He’d hoped for some reprieve, but it seemed the torment was far from over. He tried to ignore her, but Yuna wasn’t having it.
"What's wrong, Yeonjun? Afraid to be the center of attention again?" Yuna's voice rose, drawing more curious eyes. "Maybe it’s because your whole family’s trash, and you’re just as bad!"
Yeonjun stopped in his tracks, a mix of anger and humiliation surging through him. His face flushed as he turned to confront her. "What the hell is your problem, Yuna? You think you’re so high and mighty because you can shout insults from the sidelines?"
Yuna sneered, her expression one of gleeful vindication. "Oh, I’m just having a little fun. After all, you’ve been the one getting all the pity and attention. And your family? They’re just as messed up as you are!"
That was the breaking point for Yeonjun. His fists clenched at his sides as he stepped toward her. "You don’t know anything about me or my family. You think you’re so tough? Try picking on someone who actually cares about your stupid opinions."
A group of students gathered around, murmuring and whispering as the confrontation escalated. Yuna’s smirk faltered slightly as she took a step back. "Oh, so now you want to play the victim card? Typical."
Yeonjun took a deep breath, his anger fueling him. "You know what? Maybe I’ve survived more than you could handle. Maybe I’ve seen and dealt with things you can’t even imagine. So, if you want to throw insults, go ahead. But don’t think for a second that you’re making me feel any worse than I already do."
The hallway fell silent, the spectators watching with a mix of shock and curiosity. Yuna’s face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger. She opened her mouth to retort but seemed to think better of it. With a final, scathing look, she turned on her heel and stormed away, leaving Yeonjun standing in the hallway, breathing heavily.
As the crowd began to disperse, Yeonjun took a moment to compose himself. The sting of Yuna’s words still lingered, but he knew he couldn’t let it get to him. Not now, not when there were bigger things at stake. He straightened his shoulders and walked away, determined to face whatever came next with renewed resolve.
======================================================
Sunoo paced anxiously outside the gymnasium where Sunghoon's body was being examined. The chaotic scene at the Prince of the Lake assembly still felt surreal, and the blood from the drop had barely been cleaned up. His mind was reeling, trying to piece together the fragments of the past few days.
The authorities had finally agreed to let Sunoo see Sunghoon’s body once more. Sunoo's heart raced as he stepped into the room, the sterile, cold air hitting him as he approached the stage where Sunghoon’s corpse lay. Sunoo’s eyes were red from tears, and his face was a mix of determination and grief.
Tiffany, dressed in her work attire, was already at the table, carefully examining Sunghoon’s remains. She looked up as Sunoo approached, her face softening with sympathy. “Sunoo, I—”
Sunoo didn’t wait for her to finish. He stepped closer, his eyes locked on Sunghoon’s lifeless form. “I need to see him. I need to know...”
Tiffany moved aside, allowing Sunoo to get a closer look. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her voice soothing but heavy with sorrow. “It’s okay, Sunoo. I know this is hard.”
Sunoo's hands trembled as he reached out, brushing the edge of the sheet that covered Sunghoon. The sight was as distressing as he’d feared. The body was cold and lifeless, the once-vibrant Sunghoon now a mere shell. Sunoo felt a lump in his throat, a mix of grief and confusion choking him.
Tiffany’s voice broke through his haze of despair. “Sunoo, I need to tell you something important.”
Sunoo glanced up, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and desperation. “What is it?”
Tiffany took a deep breath, her expression pained. “Sunghoon’s been dead for several days. I can tell by the state of the body. The decomposition is consistent with a death that happened a while ago.”
Sunoo’s eyes widened, and he took a step back, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “But... but I’ve been getting texts from him. I thought he was still alive. I thought...”
Tiffany reached out, wrapping her arms around Sunoo in a comforting hug. “I know. And that’s why it’s so troubling. The texts you were receiving were fake. Someone’s been sending them to you, pretending to be Sunghoon.”
Sunoo clung to Tiffany, trying to process the revelation. “But why? Why would someone do this?”
Tiffany’s eyes were filled with sympathy and concern. “We don’t have all the answers yet, but it’s clear that someone was trying to manipulate you. They wanted you to believe Sunghoon was alive, perhaps to cause confusion or distress.”
Sunoo pulled away slightly, wiping at his eyes. “I don’t understand. Everything’s so messed up.”
Tiffany nodded, her gaze steady and reassuring. “I know, Sunoo. We’ll get to the bottom of it. But for now, try to stay strong. We’re doing everything we can to find out who’s behind this.”
Sunoo nodded, his face a mix of sadness and resolve. “Thank you, Tiffany. I just... I need to know the truth.”
As Sunoo turned to leave, Tiffany watched him go, her heart heavy with the weight of the case and the emotional toll it was taking on everyone involved. She knew the investigation had only just begun, and the path to uncovering the truth would be fraught with challenges.
======================================================
Yeonjun sat in the counseling room, the weight pressing heavily on his shoulders. The room was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos and noise he’d been dealing with. He stared at the box of tissues on the desk, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his sweater.
Sooyoung, his Psychology teacher, sat across from him with a compassionate but concerned expression. Her calm demeanor was a soothing presence amidst Yeonjun’s turmoil. She leaned forward slightly, her gaze encouraging.
“Yeonjun,” Sooyoung began gently, “I’m glad you came to talk. What’s been going on?”
Yeonjun took a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly. “I... I’ve been having these awful thoughts. After Sunghoon’s murder... I can’t shake the feeling that the killer is coming after my family again.”
Sooyoung’s eyes softened with concern. “Can you tell me more about why you feel that way?”
Yeonjun nodded, his eyes clouded with worry. “Sunghoon’s death—it’s just... too close. It feels like a message, like the killer is trying to get to me through the people I care about. I’ve had these visions, and I’m afraid they might be more than just nightmares.”
Sooyoung nodded understandingly. “It’s natural to feel this way after such a traumatic event. Sometimes, our fears and anxieties can seem larger than life, especially when we’re dealing with something as horrifying as this.”
Yeonjun’s hands clenched into fists. “But it feels real. Like I’m next. Or worse, that something might happen to my mom. She’s been working so hard, and I... I just don’t want her to be in danger.”
Sooyoung leaned back, her tone reassuring. “Your feelings are valid, Yeonjun. It’s important to acknowledge them. But it’s also crucial to differentiate between what we fear and what is actually happening. We need to address these fears constructively.”
Yeonjun nodded, though his anxiety remained palpable. “How do I do that? How do I stop feeling like there’s a target on my family’s back?”
Sooyoung considered his words before responding. “One step at a time. First, make sure your family is safe. Take practical steps like making sure your home is secure, and maybe consider speaking to someone who can provide extra support, like a security professional or counselor. Secondly, try to ground yourself in reality. Focus on what you can control and find ways to manage your anxiety, whether through mindfulness, therapy, or talking with trusted friends.”
Yeonjun’s shoulders relaxed slightly as he absorbed her advice. “I guess I could try that. It’s just hard to stay calm when everything feels so out of control.”
Sooyoung offered a comforting smile. “It’s definitely challenging, but remember, you’re not alone in this. There are people who care about you and want to help. If you ever feel overwhelmed, don’t hesitate to reach out for support.”
Yeonjun managed a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Sooyoung. I’ll try to take it one step at a time.”
Sooyoung nodded encouragingly. “You’re doing well by seeking help and talking about your concerns. That’s a big step. We’ll get through this together.”
======================================================
Yeonjun sat alone in the counseling room, the echo of Sooyoung's footsteps fading as she left to answer a call. The silence was heavy, almost suffocating, and Yeonjun’s thoughts continued to spiral around the recent horrors. He fished his phone from his pocket, hoping to distract himself with a game or a text, but as he unlocked the screen, a new message flashed before his eyes:
UNKNOWN: "You’re next. You can’t hide forever."
His heart skipped a beat. Yeonjun's hands shook as he stared at the message, the fear that had been gnawing at him suddenly feeling all too real. He quickly looked around, searching for any sign of movement, when he noticed a shadow slipping past the window.
Before he could react, he saw it—the figure of Ghostface, the killer from his nightmares, now very much real and looming outside the window. Ghostface’s white mask and dark robe were unmistakable, a chilling contrast against the late afternoon light filtering through the window. Yeonjun’s breath caught in his throat.
Without thinking, Yeonjun sprang to his feet and hurried to the door. His mind raced, trying to think of the safest course of action. He locked the door with trembling hands, his eyes darting back to the window where Ghostface was now visible, taunting him with slow, deliberate movements.
Yeonjun’s phone buzzed again, making him jump. Another text from the UNKNOWN:
UNKNOWN: "Nowhere to run, Yeonjun. Nowhere to hide."
The voice of Ghostface, distorted and chilling, echoed through the room as the figure pressed against the window. “Isn’t this cozy?” Ghostface’s voice was almost playful, a sick mockery of comfort. “Didn’t expect me to drop by uninvited, did you?”
Yeonjun’s heart pounded in his chest as he backed away from the window, his eyes wide with terror. He stumbled towards the far corner of the room, trying to think of something—anything—to do. His phone rang with an incoming call, and he grabbed it instinctively, praying it was Sooyoung or someone who could help.
“Hello?” Yeonjun’s voice was shaky as he spoke into the phone.
“Yeonjun?” Sooyoung’s voice came through, calm but with an undercurrent of urgency. “Is everything okay? I saw a notification about the door lock on my phone. Did something happen?”
“There’s someone outside!” Yeonjun’s voice cracked with panic. “It’s Ghostface! The killer is here, trying to get in!”
“Sooyoung, I’m locked in the room. They’re outside the window, taunting me. I don’t know what to do!” Yeonjun’s panic was palpable, and he could hear the muffled sounds of Ghostface’s mocking laughter through the glass.
Sooyoung’s voice was steady but urgent. “Yeonjun, stay calm. We’re on our way. Keep the door locked and stay out of sight. I’m calling for backup right now. You need to stay safe until we get there.”
Yeonjun tried to steady his breathing, his eyes locked on the window where Ghostface’s face appeared more menacing than ever. “Okay, I’ll stay here. But please hurry. I don’t know how long I can—”
The line went dead as Sooyoung’s call ended, and Yeonjun was left alone with his fear and the taunting presence of the killer outside. He slid down the wall, sitting on the floor, trying to make himself as small as possible. Ghostface’s figure continued to loom outside, a constant reminder of the danger that was closing in on him.
Yeonjun’s voice rang out in desperate pleas, each shout echoing off the walls of the small counseling room. “Leave me alone! Please, just go away!”
His cries reverberated through the empty hallway, mingling with the chilling taunts from Ghostface. The masked figure’s distorted voice cut through the silence, filled with cruel amusem*nt. “You think you’re safe just because you locked the door, Yeonjun? This is just the beginning.”
The killer's shadow danced ominously across the window, and for a moment, Yeonjun thought the figure might break through. His heart raced as he pressed himself into the corner, trying to become invisible.
The taunting continued, punctuated by Ghostface’s ominous laughter. “You can’t hide from me forever. You and your little friends—none of you are safe.”
Just as Yeonjun felt he couldn’t endure any more, the figure’s presence began to recede. Ghostface’s mocking voice faded into the distance, and Yeonjun dared to peek out from his corner. The killer had slipped away, leaving only the echo of their menacing laughter behind.
Relief surged through Yeonjun, but it was short-lived. The sound of approaching footsteps and hurried voices reached his ears. The door to the counseling room burst open, and Sooyoung, flanked by several deputies, rushed in.
“Yeonjun!” Sooyoung’s voice was both urgent and soothing. “Are you okay? Did he—did he hurt you?”
Yeonjun looked up, his face pale and his eyes wide with fear. “He was here. Ghostface was right outside the window. He—he taunted me and said he’d come for me next. I don’t know where he went. He just disappeared.”
One of the deputies began scanning the room while another checked the window. “We’ll need to secure the area and search the building. Are you hurt, Yeonjun?” the deputy asked.
“I’m fine,” Yeonjun managed to say, though his voice trembled. “I just… I need to get out of here. I don’t want to be alone.”
Sooyoung reached out, placing a comforting hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder. “You’re safe now. We’re going to find him. Just stay here with us.”
The deputies conducted a thorough search of the area, but Ghostface was nowhere to be found. Despite their best efforts, the killer had vanished without leaving a trace.
Sooyoung, still visibly shaken but determined, turned to Yeonjun. “We need to get you out of here and to a safe place. Can you come with us?”
Yeonjun nodded, trying to steady his breathing. “Yes, just—just let me get my things.”
As they moved to leave, Yeonjun cast one last anxious glance around the room, his mind still reeling from the encounter. The deputies and Sooyoung led him out of the building, their presence a reassuring buffer against the lingering fear.
======================================================
The gymnasium was eerily quiet, its usual echoes swallowed by the somber gravity of the scene. Sunghoon’s body remained draped in a heavy sheet, the blood-soaked banner above casting a grim shadow over the room. Sheriff Jiwoong stood in the center of the chaos, his demeanor tight and professional, though a flicker of unease played across his face.
Tiffany stood off to the side, her face a mix of frustration and resignation. “Sheriff Jiwoong,” she said, her voice strained, “I need to understand why you’re firing me from the case. I was just doing my job, trying to help Sunoo.”
Jiwoong’s expression remained stoic as he met her gaze. “Tiffany, you overstepped. Revealing that Sunghoon had been dead for several days was a critical mistake. It compromised the investigation and led to confusion among the witnesses.”
Tiffany’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you seriously blaming me for this? I was trying to provide clarity, not hinder the investigation.”
Before Jiwoong could respond, he made a subtle but deliberate move. He approached Sunghoon’s body and, with practiced precision, re-placed Sunghoon’s phone back beside the corpse. Tiffany, her attention momentarily diverted by the Sheriff’s action, noticed the oddity but chose to remain silent, her frustration boiling under the surface.
As Jiwoong straightened, he cast a sidelong glance at Tiffany. “I’m sorry, Tiffany. But you’re no longer part of this case. We have to keep the investigation as clean as possible. I’ll handle it from here.”
Tiffany, her lips pressed into a thin line, took a step back. “Fine. But don’t expect me to just disappear. I’ll be keeping an eye on this.”
Jiwoong’s gaze followed her as she walked away, the room now filled with a tense silence. The deputies continued their work, oblivious to the underlying tension between their superior and the dismissed forensic pathologist.
As Tiffany exited the gymnasium, she shot one last look back, her mind racing with questions about the Sheriff’s actions. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. The re-placed phone, now lying next to Sunghoon’s body, seemed like a deliberate move to obscure or manipulate the investigation, but she had no evidence to support her suspicions.
Back in the gymnasium, Jiwoong’s mind was preoccupied with the next steps. He needed to control the narrative and ensure that the investigation remained under his command. The re-placed phone was part of his plan, but what exactly he hoped to achieve with it was still unclear.
As the deputies continued their work, the tension in the room was palpable. The dark shadows of the gymnasium seemed to hold secrets that no one was yet ready to confront.
======================================================
Beomgyu’s frustration was reaching a boiling point. The library was unusually quiet, the only sounds being the rustling of pages and the occasional shuffling of feet. Beomgyu’s eyes were locked onto Leehan, who was hunched over a tablet, oblivious to the commotion around him. The eerie glow of the screen cast a disturbing light on Leehan’s face as he continued drawing grotesque images of the Lakewood 6.
Beomgyu’s hands trembled with anger as he approached Leehan, his resolve hardening with every step. “Leehan!” he snapped, grabbing the tablet from Leehan’s grasp. “What the hell are you doing?”
Leehan’s eyes widened in shock as he looked up from his work. “What are you—”
Without waiting for a response, Beomgyu shoved the tablet into the hands of nearby students. “Look at this! This guy’s been drawing these messed-up images of us! Look at the blood and gore!”
The students gathered around, their expressions shifting from confusion to horror as they saw the disturbing depictions. Whispers and gasps spread through the library like wildfire.
One student, Kevin, spoke up, his voice trembling. “This is insane. Why the hell is he drawing this?”
Another, Mia, nodded in agreement. “This is seriously messed up. He needs to answer for this.”
Leehan, realizing the gravity of the situation, tried to snatch the tablet back. “No, wait! You don’t understand! I was just—”
Before he could finish, Beomgyu was already in motion. “Just what, Leehan? Just obsessing over us like some sick fan? You’re sick!”
The other students, now fully riled up, began to push and shove Leehan. The violence started with shoving and escalated quickly. Leehan tried to defend himself, but the sheer number of students soon overwhelmed him. The library, once a sanctuary of knowledge, became a chaotic battleground.
“Get him!” shouted Kevin, delivering a rough shove.
“Beat him up!” Mia cried, as she and a few others joined in.
Leehan stumbled and fell, his cries for help swallowed by the noise of the fracas. Beomgyu stood on the sidelines, watching with a mix of satisfaction and discomfort as the students vented their anger on Leehan.
“Enough!” Beomgyu finally shouted, though his voice was barely audible over the din. “Stop! That’s enough!”
The students slowly backed off, their faces flushed with exertion and adrenaline. Leehan lay on the floor, battered and bruised, his tablet shattered beside him. His breathing was ragged, and he looked up at Beomgyu with a mixture of fear and confusion.
“Why?” Leehan gasped. “Why are you doing this?”
Beomgyu glared down at him, his anger still simmering. “Because you’ve crossed the line. You’re making this whole nightmare worse. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
As the library returned to a semblance of normalcy, Beomgyu and the other students left Leehan behind. The library’s peaceful atmosphere was shattered, and the echoes of the violence still lingered in the air. Beomgyu knew that, despite the satisfaction of confronting Leehan, the situation was far from resolved. The threat of the killer loomed larger than ever, and everyone’s sense of security had been irreparably shaken.
======================================================
Yeonjun stormed through the school’s hallway, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. The tension in his shoulders was palpable, and his face was set in a scowl. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows, casting long shadows that seemed to mimic his frustration. Soobin, trailing behind him, hurried to catch up, his expression a mix of concern and guilt.
“Yeonjun, wait up!” Soobin called, trying to keep his voice calm. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Didn’t mean to?” Yeonjun snapped, turning abruptly to face Soobin. “You sold me out to the Sheriff, Soobin! I thought you were supposed to be my friend.”
Soobin stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide with shock. “I was just trying to protect you. I didn’t think—”
“Protect me? By making things worse?” Yeonjun cut him off, his voice rising in anger. “Do you have any idea what this means? Now everyone’s going to think I’m some kind of suspect!”
Soobin took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “I was trying to help, Yeonjun. I didn’t want you to get into more trouble.”
Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed as he took a step closer, his frustration boiling over. “You know what? I don’t want your help. I don’t want to be around you right now.”
Soobin’s face fell, a hurt expression replacing the guilt. “Come on, Yeonjun. Let me give you a ride home. We can talk about this—”
“No,” Yeonjun said firmly, shaking his head. “I need some space. I’m walking home.”
Without waiting for Soobin’s response, Yeonjun turned and started walking briskly toward the school’s exit. The weight of the day’s events seemed to press down on him, and he wanted nothing more than to be alone with his thoughts. The echo of Soobin’s footsteps grew fainter behind him as he pushed through the front doors and stepped into the crisp evening air.
Soobin watched helplessly as Yeonjun walked away, a mixture of regret and frustration etched on his face. He opened his mouth to call out again, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he turned and walked back to his car, feeling the sting of his friend’s anger more acutely than any reprimand from the Sheriff.
Yeonjun walked with purpose, the chilly air biting at his cheeks. He needed to clear his head, to find some semblance of control in the chaos that had enveloped his life. The streets of Lakewood, once familiar and comforting, now seemed more like a labyrinth of confusion and betrayal.
======================================================
Jaehyun leaned against the wall in the empty corridor, his fingers tapping restlessly on his phone as he scrolled through Beomgyu's messages. The buzz of students filing out of the gymnasium created a backdrop of noise that was barely audible to him. He’d grown increasingly suspicious of Beomgyu’s stories—each retelling seemed to leave out crucial details or contradict something he’d said before.
Beomgyu had slipped his phone onto the bench in the locker room while he changed into gym clothes. Jaehyun, seizing the opportunity, had discreetly picked it up. He had managed to crack the passcode after a few tries, thanks to a hunch about Beomgyu’s predictable password choices.
The screen flashed with a mix of texts and notifications. Jaehyun’s eyes widened as he scrolled through a series of ominous messages from an unknown number. The texts were laced with threats and hints about Beomgyu’s past, especially concerning Hanbin’s murder. The sender seemed to know intimate details about Beomgyu’s involvement, details that Beomgyu had never publicly shared.
Jaehyun’s brows furrowed as he read the latest message:
**"I know what you did with Hanbin. The past never stays buried. Time to face the consequences."**
Jaehyun frowned, his mind racing. This was more than just idle threats. Someone out there was digging up Beomgyu’s past and using it to manipulate or scare him. The connection to Hanbin’s murder made Jaehyun’s skin crawl. He knew Beomgyu had been linked to the case, but this level of detail was troubling.
A clatter from the locker room door startled Jaehyun. He quickly locked Beomgyu’s phone and slipped it into his pocket. He moved swiftly, catching sight of Beomgyu approaching.
“Hey, Beomgyu,” Jaehyun said casually, his voice steady despite the tension in his gut. “You left your phone in the locker room.”
Beomgyu, who was visibly agitated, took the phone from Jaehyun’s outstretched hand. “Thanks,” he muttered, his eyes darting around nervously.
“No problem,” Jaehyun replied, watching Beomgyu closely. “Just thought you’d want it back. Anything... interesting in there?”
Beomgyu’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”
Jaehyun shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Just wondering if you’ve gotten any super weird messages lately. I’ve been getting some odd ones myself.”
Beomgyu’s expression shifted from suspicion to mild relief. “Nothing I can’t handle. Thanks for giving it back.”
Jaehyun nodded, forcing a smile. “Sure. Let me know if you need anything.”
As Beomgyu walked away, Jaehyun’s mind was already racing. He needed to figure out how to handle this information, and he had to tread carefully. Beomgyu was clearly hiding something, but the bigger question was: what did this unknown sender want, and how was it connected to the recent killings?
Jaehyun pulled out his own phone, typing a quick message to himself to keep track of the details. He had a sinking feeling that the storm was far from over and that Beomgyu might be at the center of it all.
Chapter 16: Jeepers Creepers
Chapter Text
Sunoo sat on the edge of his bed, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of his bedside lamp. His hands trembled as he held a pair of scissors, the cold metal reflecting the flickering light. His breath came in ragged bursts, each one filled with the weight of the loss he was struggling to comprehend. Sunghoon was gone, and the world felt like it had been turned upside down.
The shock had worn off, leaving behind a hollow ache that gnawed at him. His eyes were red and puffy from crying, but the tears had stopped hours ago, replaced by a suffocating numbness. He stared at himself in the mirror, his reflection a blur of disheveled hair and tear-streaked cheeks.
Sunoo's grip tightened around the scissors as he raised them to a lock of his hair. The sharp blades hovered just above it, trembling in the air. He imagined the strands falling to the floor, a symbolic act to signify cutting away the pain, the grief, the anger. But as he stared at the mirror, he hesitated.
A voice in his mind whispered that cutting his hair wouldn’t bring Sunghoon back. It wouldn’t ease the turmoil inside him or erase the image of Sunghoon’s lifeless body from his mind. He knew that, but the urge to do something—anything—to feel in control of his emotions was overpowering.
His hand faltered, and he lowered the scissors. A choked sob escaped his lips, and he dropped the scissors onto the bed, burying his face in his hands. The walls of his room seemed to close in on him, the silence pressing down like a weight on his chest.
"Why?" he whispered to no one in particular, his voice cracking. "Why did this have to happen?"
He needed an outlet, something to release the storm brewing inside him. His gaze fell on a pillow beside him, and without thinking, he grabbed it. His fingers dug into the fabric as he squeezed it tight, imagining it was something—anything—he could take his frustration out on.
With a cry of anguish, Sunoo swung the pillow against the wall, over and over, each hit a futile attempt to expel the pain that was eating him alive. Feathers exploded from the pillow, fluttering through the air like snowflakes, but Sunoo didn’t stop. He pounded the pillow against the wall until his arms ached, until there was nothing left of the pillow but a shredded mess on the floor.
Finally, exhausted and breathless, Sunoo collapsed onto his bed, his body shaking with silent sobs. The rage had burned itself out, leaving him feeling empty and spent.
In the silence that followed, Sunoo curled up on the bed, clutching the remains of the pillow to his chest like a lifeline. He closed his eyes, his thoughts drifting to Sunghoon once more. There were no more tears left to shed, only the cold, hard reality of what he’d lost.
"Sunghoon," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I’m so sorry."
The room was still, save for the soft sound of Sunoo’s breathing as he slowly drifted into a restless sleep, the remnants of the pillow scattered around him like fallen leaves.
======================================================
Beomgyu stood in the dimly lit basem*nt of his house, the only sound the rhythmic thud of his fists connecting with the heavy punching bag hanging from the ceiling. Sweat dripped down his face, soaking through his shirt as he unleashed a flurry of punches, each one harder than the last. His knuckles ached, but he didn’t care. The pain was a welcome distraction, a way to channel the anger and grief that had been gnawing at him since Sunghoon’s death.
He couldn’t stop thinking about it—about the last time he’d seen Sunghoon alive, about the blood and the body, about the killer who was still out there, taunting them all. It made him sick, made his blood boil with helpless rage. And so he hit the bag again and again, trying to exhaust himself, to beat the grief out of his system.
But it was never enough. No matter how hard or how fast he punched, the anger stayed, simmering just below the surface. Beomgyu gritted his teeth, throwing one final punch that sent the bag swinging wildly. He stood there, panting, hands on his knees, staring at the floor.
"Dammit, Sunghoon," he muttered under his breath, his voice rough. "Why did it have to be you?"
He straightened up, rubbing his sore knuckles, and wiped the sweat from his brow. The basem*nt was too quiet, too empty. It felt like the walls were closing in on him. With a frustrated sigh, Beomgyu turned away from the bag and headed upstairs, his steps heavy with exhaustion.
Meanwhile, Jaehyun was sitting in his room, the glow of his laptop screen casting a soft light on his face. He adjusted the microphone in front of him, taking a deep breath before hitting the record button. The familiar ritual of starting a podcast usually brought him comfort, but tonight was different. Tonight, the words felt heavy, and the silence in the room was more daunting than usual.
“Hey, everyone,” Jaehyun began, his voice steady but tinged with a sadness he couldn’t quite hide. “This is Jaehyun, and today’s episode is... well, it’s not an easy one to make. I know most of you tune in for the lighter stuff—stories about school, life, and, you know, just trying to survive as a teenager in Lakewood. But today, I need to talk about something real. Something that’s been weighing on all of us.”
He paused, gathering his thoughts, and glanced at the notes he’d scribbled earlier. They seemed inadequate now, just a jumble of words that didn’t capture the depth of what he was feeling.
“I lost a friend this week,” Jaehyun continued, his voice quieter now. “Sunghoon. And it’s... it’s hard to wrap my head around it. He was here, and now he’s not. Just like that. And I know I’m not the only one who’s feeling this—our whole community is grieving. But I wanted to talk about it because... I don’t know, maybe it’ll help someone else who’s going through the same thing.”
Jaehyun leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as he spoke. “Grief is such a strange thing. It hits you in waves, you know? One minute you’re fine, and the next, it feels like the world’s been pulled out from under you. And there’s no right way to deal with it. For some people, it’s talking to friends or family. For others, it’s keeping busy, trying to distract themselves from the pain.”
He glanced down at his hands, which were resting in his lap, and sighed. “For me, it’s this. Talking to all of you. It feels... I don’t know, cathartic, I guess. Just getting the words out there, even if I don’t have all the answers. Because the truth is, I don’t know how to make sense of this. I don’t know how to move on. But I do know that Sunghoon wouldn’t want us to stay stuck in this place forever. He’d want us to keep going, to keep living our lives.”
Jaehyun reached over and stopped the recording, sitting in the quiet of his room for a moment before starting the editing process. It wasn’t perfect, but it was honest. And for tonight, that was enough.
======================================================
Yeonjun sat alone in his dimly lit room, the weight of recent events pressing heavily on his shoulders. The unsettling silence was broken only by the soft hum of his phone vibrating on the desk beside him. He glanced at the screen and saw an incoming call from "UNKNOWN." A knot tightened in his stomach as memories of Ghostface's taunts and the threatening texts resurfaced.
Taking a deep breath, Yeonjun hesitated before answering, steeling himself for whatever might come next. He swiped to accept the call, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Hello?" Yeonjun's voice wavered slightly, betraying his anxiety.
"Hello, Yeonjun," the voice on the other end drawled, distorted and dripping with malice. "It's been a while since we last spoke."
Yeonjun's eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of movement, but he was alone. "Who is this? What do you want?" he demanded, trying to keep his voice steady despite the fear bubbling inside him.
The voice chuckled darkly. "Oh, come now. No need to be so defensive. We both know why I'm calling."
Yeonjun's fists clenched at his sides, his frustration mounting. "I don't know what you're talking about. Leave me alone."
A sinister laugh echoed through the phone. "You think you can hide from me, Yeonjun? I've been watching you, learning your every move. You're not as clever as you think."
Yeonjun's mind raced, memories of feeling watched and the growing paranoia resurfacing. "Stop this. I won't let you scare me," he muttered, his voice tinged with anger.
The voice leaned into a mocking tone. "Scare you? Oh, Yeonjun, you're terrified. Deep down, you know you can't escape what's coming next."
Yeonjun's frustration boiled over, his emotions threatening to spill out. "You think this is funny? You think tormenting me makes you powerful?" His words came out in a hurried, stammered rush, betraying his inner turmoil. "I... I won't let you... you can't... make me... scared!"
There was a moment of heavy silence, broken only by the distant sound of a clock ticking. Yeonjun took a shaky breath, trying to regain his composure. "What do you want from me? Why are you doing this?"
The voice's tone softened, almost pitying. "It's simple, really. I want you to remember that no one is safe—not even you. Your secrets, your fears... they'll always be with you."
Yeonjun's frustration and fear intertwined, leaving him momentarily speechless. He glanced down at his hands, which trembled slightly. "Leave me alone," he whispered, more to himself than to the unseen tormentor.
The call ended abruptly, the line going dead. Yeonjun stared at his phone, his mind racing and his heart still pounding. He sank back into his chair, the room feeling even colder and more oppressive than before. The confrontation had left him rattled, his attempts to stand up to the taunting caller resulting in a befuddled stammer that exposed his vulnerability.
Taking a deep breath, Yeonjun tried to steady himself. He knew he couldn't let this unknown threat dictate his life. But as he sat there, grappling with fear and frustration, he realized just how deep the shadows had crept into his world. Determined to reclaim some semblance of control, he resolved to seek help and confront the darkness that loomed over him and his loved ones.
======================================================
Soobin stood awkwardly on the doorstep, shuffling his feet as he waited for Yeonjun to answer the door. The warm afternoon sun cast long shadows across the lawn, but Soobin’s heart felt heavy despite the bright day. He had messed up, and he knew it. Yesterday had been a disaster, and he was about to face the consequences of his actions.
The door creaked open, and Yeonjun appeared, his expression a mix of surprise and something else Soobin couldn’t quite place—was it relief?
“Hey,” Soobin started, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I come in?”
Yeonjun stepped aside, allowing Soobin to enter the familiar hallway of his home. The air inside was cool, almost too cool, and it sent a shiver down Soobin’s spine. He hesitated, glancing at Yeonjun, who was now leaning against the wall, arms crossed, waiting for him to speak.
“I… I’m sorry,” Soobin finally said, his voice cracking slightly. “I know I’ve been pretty lame—especially yesterday with the whole phone thing. I shouldn’t have told the police. I just… I panicked, and I thought it was the right thing to do at the time, but now I realize it wasn’t. I shouldn’t have gone behind your back like that.”
Yeonjun didn’t respond right away. Instead, he studied Soobin, his eyes softening as he took in the genuine regret on Soobin’s face.
“It’s okay,” Yeonjun said, breaking the silence. His voice was gentle, almost too forgiving. “You were just trying to do what you thought was right. I get it.”
Soobin let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “But still, I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay, really,” Yeonjun interrupted, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’m not mad. Just… maybe next time, talk to me first? We’re in this together, Soobin. We’re supposed to have each other’s backs.”
Soobin nodded, his heart swelling with a mix of relief and something warmer, something that made his chest tighten in a good way. “I will. I promise.”
There was a pause, a comfortable silence that settled between them as they stood there, both of them feeling the weight of everything they’d been through together. Soobin’s eyes flickered to Yeonjun’s, and for a moment, he thought he saw something there—something deeper, more intense than the simple forgiveness he’d expected.
“Thanks, Yeonjun,” Soobin murmured, taking a step closer. “For not hating me.”
“I could never hate you,” Yeonjun replied softly. “You’re too important to me.”
Soobin’s breath hitched, and he found himself inching closer, his hand brushing against Yeonjun’s. “You’re important to me too.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. They both knew there was more to say, more to feel, but for now, this was enough. The warmth of their closeness was enough.
Yeonjun’s smile grew, and he reached out, gently squeezing Soobin’s hand. “We’ll figure this out together, okay?”
“Together,” Soobin echoed, squeezing back.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Soobin felt a sense of peace, a sense that maybe, just maybe, things would be okay as long as they had each other.
======================================================
Yeonjun pushed open Jaehyun's bedroom door without knocking, his mind buzzing with determination. He needed answers, and he was sure Jaehyun had them. The room was dimly lit, with posters peeling off the walls and clothes scattered across the floor, but Yeonjun’s eyes were immediately drawn to the murder board that dominated one wall.
Strings of red yarn crisscrossed between photos, notes, and newspaper clippings. The chaotic web was the product of Jaehyun’s relentless obsession with finding the killer. But as Yeonjun’s gaze scanned the board, his heart stopped when he saw Beomgyu’s name circled in bright red in the center.
“What the hell, Jaehyun?” Yeonjun’s voice was sharp, almost accusatory, as he turned to face his friend.
Jaehyun, who was hunched over his laptop on the bed, looked up, surprised by the intrusion. He quickly closed the screen, as if caught doing something he shouldn’t.
“Yeonjun, you shouldn’t just barge in like that—” Jaehyun started, but Yeonjun cut him off.
“Why is Beomgyu on your board? Why is he your prime suspect?”
Jaehyun sighed, standing up slowly and walking over to the board. He didn’t meet Yeonjun’s eyes as he spoke. “Because, Yeonjun, there’s something you don’t know. I found something… disturbing.”
Yeonjun’s fists clenched at his sides. “What did you find?”
Jaehyun reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone—Beomgyu’s phone. “I had to steal his phone because he got weird the past few days. I managed to unlock it, and… well, I found something.”
He handed the phone to Yeonjun, who snatched it up, his fingers trembling as he navigated to the files. His heart pounded louder with each second until he found what Jaehyun was talking about. An animated GIF played on the screen, looping endlessly.
Yeonjun’s breath caught in his throat as he watched Beomgyu crouch beside Sunghoon’s lifeless body. The image was grainy but unmistakable—Beomgyu's expression cold and unreadable as he hovered over the corpse.
“No,” Yeonjun whispered, his voice barely audible. “This can’t be right. Beomgyu wouldn’t… He couldn’t…”
Jaehyun’s voice was soft, almost regretful. “I don’t want to believe it either, but this is what I found. We can’t ignore it, Yeonjun. We have to consider the possibility that Beomgyu… that he might be the killer.”
Yeonjun’s mind raced, the weight of the accusation pressing down on him. Beomgyu, his best friend, the person he trusted more than anyone—could he really be involved? Could he really have done something so horrific?
“No,” Yeonjun said more firmly, shaking his head. “There has to be another explanation. Maybe he found the body after the killer was already gone. Maybe… maybe he was trying to help.”
Jaehyun sighed again, running a hand through his hair. “I want to believe that, Yeonjun, but we need more than just maybes. We need the truth. And until we find it, we can’t rule him out as a suspect.”
Yeonjun stared at the GIF, his stomach twisting in knots. He wanted to defend Beomgyu, to believe in his innocence without question, but the image on the screen made that so much harder.
“We’ll figure this out,” Jaehyun said quietly, placing a hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder. “But we need to be prepared for whatever we find.”
Yeonjun nodded numbly, his eyes still locked on the phone. Prepared for the truth, whatever it might be—he just wasn’t sure he was ready for what that truth could mean.
======================================================
The mall was buzzing with activity, the low hum of conversations and the occasional burst of laughter echoing through the wide corridors. Jaehyun walked purposefully, his eyes scanning the crowds, searching for a familiar figure. His heart raced as he spotted Beomgyu near a row of shops, casually browsing through the display windows. Jaehyun slowed his pace, keeping a safe distance, trying to appear nonchalant. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for—maybe something that would confirm or refute his growing suspicions.
But almost immediately, Beomgyu’s head snapped up, and his eyes locked onto Jaehyun’s. There was a flicker of recognition, and Jaehyun’s stomach dropped. He’d been spotted.
For a split second, panic flashed across Jaehyun’s face. He hadn’t planned for this—hadn’t thought of an excuse. But as Beomgyu started walking toward him, Jaehyun’s gaze darted around, landing on a nearby bike shop. Without missing a beat, he strode toward the entrance, feigning interest in the sleek bicycles displayed outside.
“Jaehyun?” Beomgyu’s voice was light, almost teasing as he approached. “What are you doing here?”
Jaehyun turned, forcing a casual smile as he gestured toward the bikes. “Oh, hey, Beomgyu! Just… checking out the bikes, you know? Thinking about getting a new one.”
Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced but playing along. “Bike shopping, huh? Since when are you into bikes?”
Jaehyun chuckled, trying to keep his tone light. “I’ve been thinking about getting back into it. Good exercise, plus I could use a new hobby.”
Beomgyu crossed his arms, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Right. And you just happened to be at the mall at the same time as me?”
Jaehyun shrugged, glancing at the bikes again, pretending to be absorbed in their design. “Total coincidence. This is a popular mall, after all.”
Beomgyu studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a shrug, he let it go. “Well, if you need any help picking out a bike, let me know. I used to be really into cycling when I was younger.”
Jaehyun nodded, grateful that Beomgyu wasn’t pressing the issue. “I might just take you up on that.”
They stood there for a few seconds in awkward silence, the noise of the mall filling the gap between them. Jaehyun could feel the tension, the unspoken questions hanging in the air, but he wasn’t ready to face them—not yet.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to your shopping,” Beomgyu finally said, giving Jaehyun a quick nod before turning to leave. “See you around.”
“Yeah, see you,” Jaehyun echoed, watching as Beomgyu walked away, disappearing into the crowd.
As soon as Beomgyu was out of sight, Jaehyun let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping with relief. That had been close—too close. He couldn’t afford to get caught again. He needed to be more careful, more discreet if he was going to figure out what Beomgyu was hiding.
======================================================
The late afternoon sun filtered through the classroom windows, casting long shadows across the desks as Beomgyu and Leehan sat together, their conversation flowing easily. The tension that had once marked their interactions seemed to have melted away, replaced by a newfound camaraderie.
Leehan had invited Beomgyu to his locker after school to show him something he’d been working on. As Beomgyu followed him down the dimly lit hallway, he couldn’t help but feel a mix of curiosity and apprehension. The events of the past few weeks had made him wary of everyone around him, but Leehan’s recent gestures of friendship had sparked a flicker of trust.
They reached Leehan’s locker, and Leehan quickly fished out a large, worn sketchbook. He handed it to Beomgyu with a smile. “I’ve been working on this graphic novel for a while. It’s a bit gruesome, but I think it’s coming along.”
Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, taking the sketchbook with a mix of trepidation and intrigue. He flipped through the pages, each one more detailed and macabre than the last. The drawings depicted scenes of violence and horror—murders, blood, and chaos, all rendered in vivid, unsettling detail.
Leehan watched Beomgyu’s reactions with a quiet, almost nervous anticipation. “It’s based on the Lakewood murders,” he explained. “I’ve been following the news and drawing what I imagine the scenes would look like.”
Beomgyu’s eyes widened as he noticed something peculiar—many of the illustrations depicted murders that hadn’t happened yet, scenes that were disturbingly prophetic. He flipped back to the earlier pages, his fingers trembling slightly as he absorbed the chilling realization.
“Leehan,” Beomgyu said slowly, looking up from the sketchbook. “This… this is intense. Some of these scenes, they’re like, really detailed versions of what’s been happening. But there are things here that haven’t even occurred yet.”
Leehan’s face flushed slightly. “Yeah, I know. I guess my imagination sometimes runs ahead of reality. I’ve been trying to make the story as engaging as possible.”
Beomgyu closed the sketchbook gently, his mind racing. The graphic novel was undeniably unsettling, but it didn’t necessarily mean Leehan was involved in the murders. The drawings could be nothing more than a twisted form of artistic expression.
“I appreciate you showing this to me,” Beomgyu said, handing back the sketchbook. “It’s… definitely something. But I want you to know, I’m not suspicious of you anymore. I was, but seeing this, I realize it’s just your art.”
Leehan’s eyes widened with relief, and a genuine smile spread across his face. “Thanks, Beomgyu. I’m glad you see it that way. I know things have been weird lately, but I really do just enjoy drawing. I’m sorry if I freaked you out.”
“No need to apologize,” Beomgyu replied, shaking his head. “We’ve all been on edge. It’s good to know we can move past this.”
Leehan nodded, his shoulders relaxing. “Yeah, it feels good to clear the air. If you ever want to see more or just hang out, let me know.”
Beomgyu’s smile grew, and he clapped Leehan on the back. “I might just take you up on that. And who knows? Maybe we can turn this into a collaborative project. I’ve always thought about writing something myself.”
Leehan’s eyes lit up with interest. “That sounds awesome! I’d love to work on something together.”
As they walked out of the school, their conversation turned to lighter topics, the shadows of suspicion and fear beginning to recede. For the first time in a while, both Beomgyu and Leehan felt a sense of normalcy returning to their lives, however fleeting it might be.
======================================================
Jaehyun paced back and forth in his room, his phone gripped tightly in his hand. The image of Beomgyu on the screen seemed to mock him—so innocent-looking, so out of place in this nightmare they were all trapped in. But Jaehyun had to know. He needed to be sure.
With a deep breath, he pulled up the contact labeled "Eddie" and attached the photo of Beomgyu, his fingers trembling slightly as he typed out a quick message:
**Jaehyun:** _Hey Eddie, do you recognize this guy?_
He hit send and stared at the screen, waiting for a response. Seconds ticked by, turning into minutes, and Jaehyun’s impatience grew. He wasn’t sure why he expected an immediate reply—Eddie might be busy or not checking his phone. But something gnawed at the back of his mind, a sense of urgency he couldn’t shake.
Finally, his phone buzzed with a reply. Jaehyun’s heart skipped a beat as he opened the message.
**Eddie:** _Yeah, I think I might have seen him before. Meet me at the old carnival tonight? We can talk more in person._
Jaehyun frowned. The old carnival? That place had been abandoned for years, left to rot on the outskirts of town. Why would Eddie want to meet there? It didn’t make sense, but if Eddie had information, Jaehyun couldn’t afford to ignore it.
**Jaehyun:** _The carnival? Are you sure?_
The reply came almost instantly.
**Eddie:** _Yeah. Safer there, no prying eyes._
Jaehyun hesitated, his instincts screaming at him that something was off. But the need for answers overpowered his caution. If Eddie had seen Beomgyu, if he had any information that could help… Jaehyun had to go.
**Jaehyun:** _Alright. I’ll be there._
As the evening wore on, the unease settled deep in Jaehyun’s gut, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. By the time night fell, he was already on his way to the abandoned carnival, the chilly air biting at his skin as he walked through the overgrown entrance.
The once-vibrant lights of the carnival were long gone, replaced by shadows that twisted and danced in the faint moonlight. The eerie silence was broken only by the creak of rusted metal and the distant hoot of an owl. Jaehyun’s footsteps echoed in the emptiness as he ventured deeper into the heart of the carnival, searching for any sign of Eddie.
“Eddie?” Jaehyun called out, his voice swallowed by the darkness. “I’m here. Where are you?”
No answer. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves and sending a shiver down Jaehyun’s spine. He pulled out his phone, the screen casting a dim glow in the pitch-black surroundings. He checked the messages again, rereading Eddie’s words, but they offered no comfort.
“Eddie?” he tried again, his voice more uncertain this time.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed with a new message. He looked down, the unease returning full force as he read the text.
**Eddie:** _Come to the Ferris wheel._
Jaehyun’s heart pounded in his chest as he turned toward the looming silhouette of the Ferris wheel in the distance. Its once-bright paint was chipped and faded, the cars hanging lifelessly in the air like forgotten ghosts. With a deep breath, Jaehyun started walking toward it, each step heavier than the last.
As he approached, he noticed something strange—one of the cars at the bottom was slightly ajar, as if someone had been inside recently. He swallowed hard, his pulse racing, and cautiously stepped closer.
“Eddie?” he whispered, peering into the car.
The stench hit him first, a sickening smell of decay that made his stomach turn. And then he saw it—Eddie’s lifeless body slumped against the seat, his eyes staring blankly into the void.
Jaehyun stumbled back, horror washing over him. His phone slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground as he tried to process what he was seeing. Eddie was dead—had been dead all along.
But then who had been texting him?
Before Jaehyun could react, his phone buzzed again, the screen lighting up with another message.
**Unknown:** _Surprise._
Jaehyun’s blood ran cold as he realized the truth. He had been lured here—not by Eddie, but by the killer. And now, he was completely alone in the dark, abandoned carnival, with no way out.
======================================================
The dim glow of the streetlights painted long shadows across the empty sidewalks as Sunoo navigated his way through the quiet neighborhood. His mind was focused, each step driven by a singular purpose—he needed to uncover the truth about Jay, his former lover. The murder investigation had taken an emotional toll on him, and now, fueled by Leehan's reckless encouragement, Sunoo was willing to push boundaries he had once avoided.
Earlier that day, Sunoo had met Leehan in a secluded corner of the school’s library. They had talked for hours, the conversation shifting from casual chatter to Leehan’s increasingly wild ideas.
“Sunoo, if you’re serious about this, you can’t just play it safe,” Leehan had said, his voice low and urgent. “You need to dig deep, make things happen, even if it means getting a little dangerous. Find out what Jay’s been up to, and don’t let anything stand in your way.”
Sunoo had nodded, though a part of him had hesitated. The idea of confronting Jay, of investigating someone he had once loved, was both thrilling and terrifying. But Leehan’s words had ignited a spark of determination within him, and he knew he couldn’t turn back now.
That night, Sunoo found himself parked outside Jay’s apartment complex, the building looming in front of him like a dark sentinel. He glanced at the time on his phone—almost midnight. He had arranged a late-night meeting with Jay, under the pretense of needing to return some old books and discuss a few lingering matters from their past.
Taking a deep breath, Sunoo exited his car and walked toward the entrance, his heart pounding with anticipation. The intercom buzzed in the empty hallway as he pressed the button for Jay’s apartment. Moments later, Jay’s voice crackled through the speaker.
“Hello?”
“It’s Sunoo,” he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m here to drop off those books and catch up.”
The intercom crackled again before Jay’s voice responded. “Alright, come on up.”
Sunoo rode the elevator to Jay’s floor, his mind racing with questions. What had Jay been hiding? What could he possibly discover tonight?
When Jay opened the door, he looked both surprised and pleased to see Sunoo. “Sunoo! It’s been a while. What’s up?”
Sunoo forced a smile as he stepped inside, glancing around the neatly arranged apartment. “Just thought I’d return these and see how you’ve been.”
Jay closed the door behind him and gestured for Sunoo to sit on the couch. “Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, I’m good,” Sunoo replied, sitting down and placing the books on the coffee table. He watched Jay closely, trying to gauge his reaction, his mind swirling with thoughts of what he needed to find out.
As they settled into conversation, Sunoo noticed Jay’s relaxed demeanor, his easy smile, and the way he seemed genuinely happy to reconnect. But underneath the surface, Sunoo could feel the tension, the uncertainty of why he was really there.
“So, what’s been going on with you?” Jay asked, leaning back on the couch. “I haven’t heard from you in a while.”
Sunoo took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “Not much. Just trying to piece things together with everything that’s been happening lately. You know, with the investigations and all.”
Jay’s smile faltered for a brief moment before he quickly masked it with his usual charm. “Yeah, it’s been a rough time for everyone. But you’re doing alright?”
Sunoo nodded, his gaze steady. “Yeah, I’m doing alright. Just needed to clear my head, and I thought talking to you might help.”
The conversation continued, with Sunoo probing gently, trying to get Jay to reveal something—anything—that might connect him to the ongoing investigation. But Jay remained elusive, his responses carefully measured.
As the hours passed, Sunoo’s frustration grew. He had hoped for more, something concrete that could link Jay to the crimes, but instead, he was left with a sense of unease. There was something Jay was hiding, but it wasn’t clear what.
Eventually, Sunoo stood up, signaling that it was time to leave. “Thanks for the chat, Jay. I appreciate you taking the time.”
“No problem,” Jay said, standing as well. “It’s good to catch up. But don't you want to spend the night tonight?"
======================================================
Sunoo’s pulse raced as he stood in Jay’s bedroom, the room dimly lit by a single bedside lamp. He was no longer just an old lover looking for answers; tonight, he had become something far darker. The line between seeking justice and inflicting pain had blurred, and he was driven by a desperate need to uncover the truth.
Jay was seated on the edge of the bed, blindfolded and handcuffed. The initial surprise in his eyes had turned to a mix of confusion and fear, but Sunoo could see the determination behind them. Jay had been calm and collected during their conversation, but now that calmness was being replaced by a palpable tension.
“Sunoo, what is this?” Jay’s voice was edged with anxiety, though he tried to keep it steady. “Why are you doing this?”
Sunoo’s gaze was cold as he approached Jay with a pair of scissors. He held them up, the metal gleaming ominously. “I need you to tell me the truth, Jay. Did you kill Sunghoon?”
Jay’s breath hitched, but he didn’t respond. Sunoo could see the sweat forming on Jay’s forehead, the struggle to maintain his composure. Sunoo’s heart pounded with a mix of guilt and determination. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions sway him now.
“Come on, Jay,” Sunoo said, his voice a harsh whisper. “I know you’re hiding something. I need answers.”
Without warning, Sunoo used the scissors to make a shallow cut across Jay’s face, a line of red appearing on his skin. Jay flinched, a muffled cry escaping his lips, but he remained silent otherwise.
“Tell me what I want to know,” Sunoo demanded, his voice growing more desperate. “Or I swear, I’ll make this worse.”
Jay’s breathing grew erratic, but he gritted his teeth, his pride and fear battling within him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sunoo. I didn’t kill him.”
Sunoo’s grip tightened on the scissors, his frustration boiling over. He moved to the side of the bed and loomed over Jay, brandishing the scissors menacingly. “You think this is a game? You think you can just lie and get away with it?”
Jay shook his head vigorously, the blindfold slipping slightly as he tried to look up at Sunoo. “I didn’t do it. I’m telling you the truth!”
Sunoo hesitated, his resolve wavering as he looked at Jay’s pained expression. He had wanted to believe Jay was guilty, that this brutal method of interrogation would yield the answers he sought. But every time Jay spoke, his voice held a sincerity that was hard to ignore.
“Please,” Jay pleaded. “If you’re going to do this, just get it over with. I swear I’m not the killer.”
Sunoo’s anger and desperation reached a boiling point. He slashed at Jay’s face again, deeper this time, the pain eliciting a strangled cry from Jay. Sunoo’s heart pounded, the guilt gnawing at him as he held the scissors dangerously close to Jay’s most sensitive area.
“Admit it,” Sunoo hissed, his voice trembling. “Tell me you did it, or I’ll make sure you suffer.”
Despite the terror and pain, Jay’s resolve seemed unshakable. “I didn’t do it, Sunoo! I didn’t kill Sunghoon!”
The words, though desperate, held a truth that Sunoo couldn’t ignore. The realization hit him hard—Jay wasn’t the killer. The brutality of what he was doing, the way he was forcing the truth out of Jay, it was wrong. Sunoo’s hands trembled as he lowered the scissors, the weight of his actions crashing down on him.
He released Jay from the handcuffs and removed the blindfold, his own tears mingling with the blood on Jay’s face. “I’m sorry,” Sunoo whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”
Jay’s eyes, though pained and filled with mistrust, showed a flicker of relief. “Just… just get out.”
Sunoo nodded, his heart heavy with regret. He turned and walked out of the apartment, leaving Jay behind, the door closing with a quiet finality. The brutal interrogation had yielded nothing but pain, and Sunoo was left with the harsh truth that Jay was innocent. He had to find another way to stop the killer, but for now, he was left with the burden of his actions and the realization of how far he had gone in his quest for answers.
======================================================
Jaehyun's heart pounded as he sprinted back toward his car, desperate to escape the eerie silence of the abandoned carnival. The night had turned into a nightmare, and he was determined to get out before whatever sinister plan awaited him unfolded. The Ferris wheel loomed behind him, casting a menacing shadow as he dashed across the cracked pavement.
But just as he reached his car, a strong, unfamiliar hand covered his mouth with a rag soaked in a powerful, nauseating chemical. Jaehyun's vision blurred, his legs weakening as he struggled against the intruder’s grip. The world spun around him, and he felt himself slipping into darkness.
When Jaehyun came to, the fog of chloroform was lifting, leaving him disoriented and groggy. The carnival’s eerie silence was replaced by the occasional distant creak of rusted metal. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, and he realized with a jolt that he was tied to a bumper car, his wrists and ankles restrained by thick ropes. The bumper car’s seats were worn and cracked, the colors faded and peeling.
Jaehyun tried to move, but the ropes held him tight. Panic surged through him as he looked around, only to spot Beomgyu tied to the bumper car directly behind him. Beomgyu's eyes were wide with shock, and he struggled against his restraints, the ropes cutting into his skin.
“Beomgyu!” Jaehyun’s voice was hoarse as he called out, his heart racing. “Are you okay?”
Beomgyu’s head snapped up, his gaze locking with Jaehyun’s. “Jaehyun! What’s going on? How did we—”
Before Beomgyu could finish, a voice cut through the darkness, cold and taunting. “Welcome to the carnival, boys. I hope you’re enjoying the ride.”
Jaehyun’s blood ran cold as he tried to locate the source of the voice. Emerging from the shadows was the killer, their face hidden behind a mask, their eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. The killer approached slowly, their footsteps echoing in the stillness of the abandoned carnival.
“What do you want from us?” Jaehyun demanded, trying to keep his voice steady despite the fear clawing at his insides.
The killer chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down Jaehyun’s spine. “It’s simple. You’re both here for a reason. Let’s just say I want to see how much you’re willing to suffer before you tell me what you know.”
Beomgyu’s face was pale, his eyes darting around the carnival, looking for any possible escape route. “We don’t know anything. Just let us go!”
The killer’s laugh was low and menacing. “Oh, but you do. You both know more than you realize. And I’m quite interested in what you have to say.”
Jaehyun’s mind raced, trying to formulate a plan even as the dread settled in his chest. “What do you want us to say? We don’t have any information about the murders!”
The killer’s eyes glinted with amusem*nt. “That’s not for me to decide. You’ll have to figure that out yourself. In the meantime, let’s see how well you handle a little carnival fun.”
With that, the killer turned and walked away, their footsteps fading into the distance. Jaehyun and Beomgyu were left in the eerie quiet, the only sounds being the occasional creak of the old carnival rides.
Beomgyu’s voice trembled as he spoke. “Jaehyun, what are we going to do?”
Jaehyun’s jaw clenched as he surveyed their surroundings. “We need to stay calm and think. There has to be a way out of this.”
Beomgyu nodded, his fear palpable but tempered by determination. “Alright. Let’s try to get these ropes loose.”
Jaehyun nodded in agreement, his mind racing with strategies. “We need to be quick. We don’t know when the killer will come back.”
As they worked to free themselves, the gravity of their situation pressed down on them, but there was a flicker of hope—if they could escape, they might just be able to turn the tables on their captor and put an end to this nightmare once and for all.
======================================================
The carnival’s eerie silence was shattered by the sound of Beomgyu’s footsteps as he approached Jaehyun, who was still bound to the bumper car. The confusion in Jaehyun’s eyes was evident, but Beomgyu’s expression was a mix of frustration and determination. The shadows cast by the carnival rides danced around them, adding an unsettling backdrop to their confrontation.
Beomgyu had just finished setting up the scene, meticulously ensuring everything was in place to make the situation as convincing as possible. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the confrontation he had long anticipated.
“Jaehyun,” Beomgyu said, his voice a low growl. “I hope you’re comfortable. This was all for a reason.”
Jaehyun looked at Beomgyu with a mix of anger and confusion. “What the hell is this, Beomgyu? Why are we tied up like this? What’s going on?”
Beomgyu stepped closer, his face set in a hard line. “I needed answers. I’ve been noticing how weird you’ve been acting around me, and I wanted to find out why.”
Jaehyun’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You did all this—chose this creepy carnival, chloroformed me—just to get answers? Are you insane?”
Before Beomgyu could respond, a sudden voice cut through the darkness, causing both men to jump.
“Beomgyu? Jaehyun? Where are you guys?”
Yeonjun’s voice echoed through the empty carnival grounds, filled with concern and confusion. Beomgyu’s heart sank as he realized Yeonjun had come looking for them. The elaborate ruse was about to be exposed.
“sh*t,” Beomgyu muttered under his breath. He turned back to Jaehyun, his face a mix of guilt and regret. “Look, I’m sorry. This whole thing was a setup. I just needed to understand why you’ve been acting so strange.”
Jaehyun’s expression softened slightly, though he still looked angry. “So this was all just a twisted game to you?”
Beomgyu nodded, his face flushed with embarrassment. “I know it sounds messed up. I didn’t know how else to get the truth out of you.”
Yeonjun’s footsteps grew louder as he approached, his voice tinged with frustration. “Beomgyu! What the hell is going on here?”
Beomgyu took a deep breath and turned to face Yeonjun. He forced himself to meet Yeonjun’s eyes, his voice wavering slightly. “Yeonjun, I can explain.”
Yeonjun’s gaze swept over the scene—the bumper cars, the ropes, Jaehyun tied up—and his expression hardened. “Beomgyu, this is insane. What did you do?”
Beomgyu swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “I… I set this up to figure out what Jaehyun was hiding. I thought this would make him talk.”
Yeonjun’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief. “You thought this was a good idea? You put him through this just to get answers? You could’ve just asked him, Beomgyu!”
Jaehyun, still tied up, shook his head. “This was beyond messed up, Beomgyu. I don’t even know what to say.”
Beomgyu’s face flushed with shame, and he quickly moved to untie Jaehyun. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it through. I was just so frustrated and desperate.”
Yeonjun walked over, his expression softening slightly as he helped Beomgyu free Jaehyun. “You’ve got to stop thinking like this. There are better ways to handle things, and hurting people isn’t one of them.”
As Jaehyun rubbed his wrists, he glared at Beomgyu, his anger still palpable but mixed with a hint of relief. “You better hope this doesn’t come back to haunt you, Beomgyu. And next time, try talking things out before resorting to… whatever this was.”
Beomgyu nodded, his voice filled with remorse. “I understand. I’m really sorry for everything. I just wanted to understand.”
Yeonjun placed a comforting hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder. “Let’s get out of here. We need to talk about this, and we need to do it somewhere sane.”
======================================================
As Jaehyun, Beomgyu, and Yeonjun walked away from the carnival, the weight of their recent confrontation hung heavily in the air. The cool night breeze rustled the leaves, a stark contrast to the tension that still simmered between them. The carnival’s once bright lights were now just faint, ghostly glimmers behind them.
“Let’s just get out of here,” Yeonjun said, his voice tinged with exhaustion. “We need to get somewhere safe.”
Jaehyun nodded, rubbing his wrists where the ropes had bitten into his skin. “Agreed. I don’t want to stick around any longer.”
But as they made their way toward the parking lot, a sudden, jarring sound shattered the stillness of the night. The distant echo of footsteps grew louder, accompanied by the telltale creak of old carnival rides.
“What’s that?” Beomgyu asked, his eyes darting around nervously.
Yeonjun’s face paled as he glanced back. “We’re not alone.”
From the shadows of the Ferris wheel, the real killer emerged, their presence menacing and unmistakable. The masked figure moved with a determined, almost predatory gait, their dark eyes glinting with malice.
“There!” Yeonjun shouted, pointing at the approaching figure. “Run!”
The three of them bolted, their footsteps pounding against the cracked pavement. The killer’s footsteps were quick and relentless, echoing in the night as they gave chase. The abandoned carnival seemed to close in around them, the once-familiar surroundings now a labyrinth of fear.
“Faster!” Jaehyun urged, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pushed himself harder.
They sprinted through the carnival grounds, ducking behind old, rusted rides and weaving through the shadows. Beomgyu glanced back, his face a mix of panic and determination. “They’re catching up!”
Yeonjun led the way, guiding them toward a cluster of broken-down ticket booths. “We need to find a way out of here. There has to be another exit.”
The killer’s presence grew more menacing as they closed the distance. A sudden, sharp sound of metal scraping against metal made them jump. The killer was using the carnival’s tools and machinery to their advantage, creating an increasingly perilous environment.
“Keep moving!” Yeonjun shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. “We can’t stop now!”
They dashed past the decaying carousel, its painted horses eerily still. Jaehyun stumbled, nearly falling, but Beomgyu grabbed him and pulled him back to his feet.
“Thanks,” Jaehyun panted, his eyes wide with fear. “I thought I was done for.”
“We’ve got to make it to the parking lot,” Beomgyu urged, his voice strained. “We can’t let them catch us.”
The killer’s breathing grew more audible, each step a reminder of the danger closing in on them. They pushed through the narrow paths between the rides, finally reaching the edge of the carnival grounds where their cars were parked.
“Almost there!” Yeonjun called out, glancing back to see the killer’s shadowy figure still pursuing them.
With one final burst of speed, they reached their cars. Yeonjun fumbled with his keys, his hands shaking as he tried to unlock the door. Beomgyu and Jaehyun scrambled into the back seat, their faces pale with fear.
“Go, go, go!” Jaehyun yelled, his voice breaking.
Yeonjun managed to start the car, the engine roaring to life as they sped out of the parking lot. The killer’s figure grew smaller in the rearview mirror, their pursuit halted by the speed of their escape.
As they drove away from the abandoned carnival, the adrenaline slowly began to ebb, leaving them with a profound sense of relief mixed with lingering terror.
“I think we lost them,” Yeonjun said, his voice hoarse. He glanced at the two in the back seat. “Are you both okay?”
Jaehyun nodded, his face pale but relieved. “Yeah, I think so. Just a bit shaken.”
Beomgyu looked equally unsettled, but he managed a shaky smile. “Thanks for getting us out of there. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up.”
Yeonjun shook his head, his expression softening. “We need to figure out our next move, and we need to do it safely. But for now, let’s just get out of here and regroup.”
As they drove away from the chaos of the carnival, the fear and tension began to give way to a cautious hope. They had escaped, but the danger was far from over. The real killer was still out there, and they knew their fight for survival was just beginning.
======================================================
As the car pulled up to Beomgyu’s house, the tension in the vehicle was palpable. Yeonjun parked the car with a sigh of relief, his hands still trembling slightly from the adrenaline. Beomgyu’s house, a modest two-story home, stood quiet and unassuming in the darkness.
Jaehyun, still visibly shaken from the night’s events, glanced at Beomgyu. “I think we need to talk. Alone.”
Beomgyu nodded, his expression serious as he led Jaehyun to the living room. Yeonjun stayed behind, giving them some space as he fidgeted with his phone, still trying to calm his racing heart.
Once they were inside, Beomgyu took a deep breath and gestured to the couch. “Please, have a seat. I need to explain everything.”
Jaehyun sat down, his gaze fixed on Beomgyu, who was pacing slightly, clearly wrestling with his own anxiety. Beomgyu finally stopped and took a seat across from Jaehyun, his face pale under the living room’s soft lights.
“Alright,” Beomgyu began, his voice shaky. “I owe you an explanation. I know what I did tonight was insane, but there’s more to it.”
Jaehyun’s eyes narrowed, his frustration barely contained. “I’m listening.”
Beomgyu took a deep breath. “I started a letter-writing campaign a while back. I wanted to lure Hanbin to Lakewood. I had this idea for a documentary about Brandon James, and I thought Hanbin, with his experience as a reporter, could help.”
Jaehyun’s brow furrowed. “So you thought bringing him here was a good idea? And you didn’t think he could be dangerous?”
Beomgyu shook his head, his face filled with regret. “I never imagined Hanbin could be a serial killer. I genuinely thought he’d be an asset to the documentary. I just wanted to uncover the truth.”
Jaehyun’s eyes softened slightly as he absorbed Beomgyu’s explanation. “I understand that now. But what you did tonight was crossing a line.”
Beomgyu nodded, his shoulders slumping. “I know. I was desperate to get answers and didn’t think things through. I’m really sorry for what I put you through.”
Jaehyun studied Beomgyu’s face, searching for any sign of deceit, but all he saw was genuine remorse. “I appreciate your apology. I just need to know we can trust each other moving forward.”
Beomgyu looked relieved. “Of course. I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.”
Jaehyun’s eyes flickered towards his phone, which was hidden in his pocket but still recording. He had been suspicious, and now he had the evidence he needed to ensure that Beomgyu’s explanation was on record. He made sure to keep his voice steady as he replied, “Good. Let’s focus on figuring out the next steps and how to handle the real threat.”
Beomgyu nodded in agreement. “Absolutely. I want to make amends and help in any way I can.”
The conversation continued, the air heavy with the weight of recent events. Jaehyun listened carefully, his mind racing with thoughts of how to proceed. The truth about Beomgyu’s intentions was out in the open, but the looming threat of the killer still cast a dark shadow over them all.
As they wrapped up their conversation, Jaehyun stood up, ready to leave. “I think we should all get some rest and regroup. We need to be prepared for whatever comes next.”
Beomgyu nodded, his expression a mixture of relief and exhaustion. “Thanks for understanding, Jaehyun. I’ll make sure to do everything I can to fix this.”
Jaehyun offered a small, weary smile. “We’ll figure this out together.”
As Jaehyun headed towards the door, he glanced back one last time, his phone still recording. He knew that the information he had would be crucial for uncovering the full truth. With that thought in mind, he stepped out into the cool night, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
======================================================
Jay’s bedroom was quiet, the only sound the soft rustling of the night breeze through his window. He had just finished preparing for bed, pulling the covers up and adjusting his pillow, when he heard a sudden, unsettling creak from the hallway.
Jay froze, his heart racing as he glanced towards the door. The sound was followed by another creak, closer this time, and the faintest hint of footsteps approaching. His pulse quickened, and he swung his legs off the bed, reaching for his phone. Before he could react, a sharp knock echoed through the room, and everything went black.
When Jay came to, he was disoriented, the room spinning around him. He tried to move but quickly realized he was restrained. Panic surged as he discovered he was handcuffed to the bed, his wrists bound tightly. The dim light from the bedside lamp flickered, casting long, eerie shadows across the walls.
A shadow fell over him, and Jay’s eyes widened in fear as the killer’s masked face came into view. The killer’s eyes glinted maliciously in the dim light, a sad*stic smile curling beneath the mask.
“Hello again, Jay,” the killer said, their voice low and taunting. “I didn’t expect you to be so… compliant.”
Jay’s voice trembled with a mix of anger and fear. “What do you want from me? Why are you doing this?”
The killer chuckled, the sound sending a chill down Jay’s spine. “Oh, it’s quite simple. I want to see how much you can endure before you break. You see, I find your pain fascinating.”
Jay’s heart pounded as he watched the killer approach with a gleaming saw, its blade catching the light ominously. The killer’s movements were methodical, almost ritualistic, as they positioned themselves beside Jay’s bed.
“What are you going to do?” Jay’s voice was barely above a whisper, his fear almost paralyzing.
The killer’s smile widened as they picked up the saw, their eyes locked onto Jay’s with a predatory gaze. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Jay’s breath came in ragged gasps as he felt the cold steel of the saw against his skin. The killer’s touch was unrelenting as they began to saw through Jay’s hand. The pain was excruciating, sending waves of agony through Jay’s entire body. He tried to scream, but the sound was choked by the sheer intensity of the pain.
“Please,” Jay begged, tears streaming down his face. “Stop! I’ll do anything—just stop!”
The killer’s response was a chilling laugh. “Oh, we’re just getting started.”
As the saw continued its relentless work, the killer moved to retrieve a heated iron from a nearby table. The iron was glowing with a menacing red heat, its surface crackling ominously. Jay’s eyes widened in horror as he realized what was coming next.
“No! Please, no!” Jay’s voice was a desperate plea, his body writhing in agony against the restraints.
The killer’s eyes remained cold and indifferent as they approached with the iron. “It’s going to be a long night, Jay. And you’re going to be a part of it.”
The iron came closer, its heat radiating intensely. Jay’s eyes locked onto it, his mind racing with sheer terror. As the killer pressed the iron against Jay’s sensitive skin, the searing pain was unlike anything he had ever felt. The smell of burning flesh filled the room, and Jay’s screams echoed through the darkness.
The killer’s taunts were a cruel soundtrack to Jay’s suffering, their voice a haunting reminder of the nightmare he was trapped in. “Just think of this as an introduction to what’s to come. You have a lot to offer, Jay. And I intend to make the most of it.”
Jay’s consciousness began to fade as the pain overwhelmed him, his screams becoming ragged gasps. The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was the killer’s cold, unfeeling eyes, watching him with twisted satisfaction.
Chapter 17: Let The Right One In
Chapter Text
Jiung’s footsteps were eerily quiet as he moved through the dimly lit house. The morning light was just beginning to creep through the curtains, casting long shadows across the floor. In the kitchen, Jiung busied himself with an oddly casual task—making toast. The clinking of the knife against the bread and the hiss of the toaster filled the room, oddly out of place in the otherwise serene setting.
Jiung was dressed in a peculiar ensemble: a pair of dark aviator sunglasses perched on his nose, adding a surreal touch to his otherwise normal morning attire. He also seemed unfazed by the fact that he was placing his shoes on the kitchen counter—a clear sign of his disregard for the homeowner’s space.
The sound of the toaster’s pop was almost jarring in the silence. Jiung grabbed the toasted bread and spread a thick layer of butter on it, his movements deliberate and almost ritualistic. All the while, he brandished a knife in his other hand, its blade glinting menacingly in the morning light.
As he worked, he spoke to himself in a low murmur, his tone eerily calm. “Well, isn’t this a lovely way to start the day. The smell of toast, the sound of the knife—it’s almost poetic.”
He glanced around the kitchen, his gaze lingering on the cluttered countertops and the unwashed dishes in the sink. The house was impeccably tidy, a stark contrast to the chaos of his own actions.
“Well, I can’t say I’m not enjoying myself,” Jiung continued, a hint of amusem*nt in his voice. “There’s something quite satisfying about making yourself at home in someone else’s space.”
A creak from upstairs caught his attention. Jiung’s head snapped towards the sound, his grip tightening around the knife. He moved swiftly, though with the same unsettling calm, towards the stairway leading to the bedrooms. The house’s silence seemed to stretch, amplifying every small sound.
As he reached the top of the stairs, he could hear the soft, rhythmic breathing of the homeowners asleep in their beds. Jiung’s lips curved into a twisted smile as he approached the door to the master bedroom. He carefully placed the toast and knife on a nearby table, making sure not to make a sound.
“I hope you’re enjoying your sleep,” Jiung whispered, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “It’s about to get a little less peaceful.”
He reached for the doorknob, slowly turning it and pushing the door open just a crack. The room beyond was bathed in soft, early morning light, casting a serene glow over the sleeping figures. Jiung’s heart raced with a perverse excitement as he slipped into the room, the knife glinting ominously in his hand.
The homeowners stirred slightly, their breaths deep and slow. Jiung crept closer, his movements practiced and precise. He felt a rush of adrenaline as he prepared for the next step in his twisted plan.
“I hope you’re ready for a wake-up call,” Jiung murmured softly, his voice barely more than a breath.
The house, once a picture of normalcy and calm, was now the stage for a chilling encounter. Jiung’s presence turned the ordinary morning into something far more sinister, and the impending confrontation promised to shatter the tranquility of the unsuspecting homeowners’ lives.
======================================================
Sheriff Jiwoong's patrol car rolled up the driveway of Yeonjun’s house, its headlights cutting through the dim evening light. He parked and stepped out, his uniform sharp and his demeanor serious. The house, a modest two-story structure, seemed peaceful, almost ordinary in contrast to the intensity of the situation.
Inside, Yeonjun was at the kitchen table, his face buried in a book. The sudden ring of the doorbell startled him, and he looked up, puzzled. He glanced at the clock on the wall—it was late, and visitors at this hour were unusual.
Tiffany, Yeonjun’s mother, answered the door, her face a mix of curiosity and concern. Sheriff Jiwoong stood on the doorstep, his expression stern as he introduced himself.
“Good evening, Tiffany,” Sheriff Jiwoong said, flashing his badge briefly. “I need to speak with Yeonjun.”
Tiffany’s eyebrows knitted together, her gaze shifting to her son who had appeared in the hallway. “Yeonjun? What’s this about?”
Jiwoong stepped inside, his boots making a muted thud on the wooden floor. “We’ve had a situation. It seems someone used Yeonjun’s IP address to send some emails from an account that belonged to a deceased individual. I need to question him about it.”
Yeonjun’s heart sank as he walked over, his mind racing to piece together the implications. “What emails? I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
Jiwoong fixed him with a steady gaze. “We’ve traced the emails to your IP address. They were sent from the account of a boy who was found dead recently. We’re trying to determine if there’s any connection here.”
Tiffany stepped forward, her voice firm but tinged with concern. “Jiwoong, Yeonjun isn’t some criminal mastermind. He’s just a kid trying to get through school. If there’s something going on, I assure you he knows nothing about it.”
Jiwoong nodded, acknowledging Tiffany’s concern. “I understand. It’s just procedure. We need to cover all bases to ensure there’s no foul play involved. It’s possible someone could be using Yeonjun’s IP address without his knowledge.”
Yeonjun shook his head, his frustration evident. “I swear, I haven’t done anything. I don’t even know how someone could use my IP address like that.”
Jiwoong studied Yeonjun for a moment, his expression softening slightly. “Alright, let’s go over everything you’ve been up to recently. We just need to make sure there’s no misunderstanding.”
Tiffany nodded in agreement, though her worry was palpable. “Can we do this in the living room? I’d like to stay close by.”
Jiwoong led the way, and they settled in the living room. Yeonjun took a seat on the couch, trying to calm his nerves as Jiwoong took out a notepad and began asking questions.
“So, Yeonjun, tell me about your recent online activities. Have you noticed anything unusual or anyone else using your devices?”
Yeonjun racked his brain, trying to recall anything out of the ordinary. “I don’t think so. I mean, I’ve been using my laptop for schoolwork and social media. My friends use it sometimes, but they wouldn’t do anything like this.”
Tiffany stood nearby, her arms crossed as she watched the interaction. “Yeonjun’s been really stressed lately with everything going on. If there’s something happening with his IP address, it’s not from him.”
Jiwoong jotted down notes, nodding thoughtfully. “Alright, we’ll investigate further. I just need to ensure that there’s no connection between your activities and the emails. For now, if you think of anything that might help, please let us know.”
Yeonjun nodded, trying to stay composed. “I will. I just want to clear this up as soon as possible.”
Jiwoong gave a reassuring nod and stood up. “Thank you for your cooperation. We’ll be in touch once we have more information.”
As the sheriff left the house, Tiffany put a comforting hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. They’ll figure it out. Just stay calm and let them do their job.”
Yeonjun managed a weak smile, grateful for his mother’s support. “Thanks, Mom. I hope this gets sorted out soon.”
The door closed behind Sheriff Jiwoong, and the house fell back into its usual quiet. The unsettling visit had left a shadow over their evening, but with Tiffany’s reassurance and Yeonjun’s determination, they faced the uncertainty with a cautious optimism.
======================================================
Jaehyun woke up to the soft rustling of sheets beside him. For a moment, he almost forgot where he was, but then he turned his head and saw Beomgyu lying next to him, still asleep, his face softened in the morning light. It was a strange feeling, the kind of quiet intimacy that came from sharing a bed with someone you weren’t sure you could trust. But somehow, despite everything, Jaehyun felt a weird sense of calm.
Beomgyu stirred, blinking his eyes open as he looked at Jaehyun with a sleepy smile. "Morning," he mumbled, his voice husky from sleep.
"Morning," Jaehyun replied, the tension of the previous night feeling like a distant memory. Maybe it was the way the morning sun filtered through the curtains, or maybe it was just the way Beomgyu looked so unguarded in that moment, but Jaehyun found himself smiling back. "You sleep okay?"
Beomgyu nodded, sitting up and stretching. "Better than I expected, honestly. Thanks for letting me crash here."
Jaehyun waved it off, trying to ignore the pang of guilt that came from remembering how he’d secretly recorded Beomgyu’s confession. "No big deal. We’re friends, right?"
"Right," Beomgyu agreed, a warmth in his voice that made Jaehyun’s guilt sting even more.
They shared a quick breakfast, the air between them surprisingly light given the secrets that hung just below the surface. But for now, neither of them brought it up. Instead, they talked about the day ahead, and before long, they found themselves heading out to The Grindhouse, the local coffee shop they both frequented.
The place was buzzing with early morning energy, and as they walked in, Jaehyun spotted Zhang Hao sitting by the window, engrossed in a book. His heart skipped a beat, the sight of Zhang Hao making something in him tighten and loosen all at once.
"Hey, isn't that Zhang Hao?" Beomgyu asked, noticing the sudden shift in Jaehyun’s demeanor.
"Yeah," Jaehyun muttered, trying to sound casual as he led them to a table nearby. "I didn’t expect to see him here."
Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on Jaehyun's attempt at nonchalance. "You sure about that? 'Cause it looks like you’re about to float over there."
Jaehyun shot him a playful glare, though he couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. "Shut up."
"Make me," Beomgyu teased, but his tone was light, no real bite behind it.
Jaehyun rolled his eyes but couldn’t resist glancing over at Zhang Hao again. It was just supposed to be a quick look, but Zhang Hao looked up at that exact moment, their eyes locking across the room. There was a beat of silence before Zhang Hao smiled, a small, almost shy curve of his lips that made Jaehyun’s heart do a flip.
"Go talk to him," Beomgyu urged, nudging Jaehyun with his elbow. "Come on, before he thinks you’re a weirdo for just staring."
Jaehyun hesitated, but the look in Zhang Hao’s eyes was enough to push him to his feet. "Fine, but if this goes badly, I’m blaming you."
Beomgyu just grinned, giving him a thumbs-up as Jaehyun walked over to Zhang Hao’s table.
"Hey," Jaehyun greeted, trying to sound as casual as possible, though his heart was racing.
Zhang Hao looked up from his book, his smile widening a fraction. "Hey yourself. Didn’t expect to see you here."
"Same here," Jaehyun replied, sliding into the seat across from him. "What are you reading?"
Zhang Hao held up the book, the cover revealing it to be a crime novel. "Just some light reading."
Jaehyun chuckled, the conversation flowing easier than he expected. "Light reading, huh? I wouldn’t have pegged you as the type."
Zhang Hao shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. "What can I say? I like to keep people guessing."
As they talked, Jaehyun felt that familiar pull, the one that had drawn him to Zhang Hao in the first place. It was a feeling he hadn’t been able to shake since their first meeting, and now, sitting across from him, it was impossible to ignore.
"Hey. Should we go for a date tomorrow?" Jaehyun asked.
Beomgyu watched from their table, a knowing smirk on his face as he sipped his coffee. Whatever had happened between them the night before, it seemed like they were back on track—at least for now. But as Jaehyun laughed at something Zhang Hao said, Beomgyu couldn’t help but wonder how long this fragile peace would last.
======================================================
Sunoo paced back and forth in his room, the tension in his body building with each step. His mind was a whirlwind of anxiety, guilt, and confusion—feelings that had been gnawing at him ever since that night with Jay. It had been a reckless decision, driven by a mixture of fear and anger, and now, the weight of what he’d done was becoming too much to bear.
He stared at his phone, debating whether or not to call Jay. The idea of hearing his voice sent a shiver down his spine, but the thought of leaving things unresolved was even worse. He needed to fix this, somehow.
Just as he was about to make up his mind, his phone buzzed with a message. It was from Beomgyu.
**Beomgyu:** “Yo, you okay? Wanna hang out or something?”
Sunoo sighed, almost relieved at the distraction. Maybe talking to Beomgyu would help clear his head, even if just a little. He quickly typed back a response.
**Sunoo:** “Yeah, actually. Can you come over?”
It didn’t take long for Beomgyu to show up, his usual laid-back demeanor a welcome contrast to the storm brewing inside Sunoo. Beomgyu took one look at Sunoo’s stressed expression and immediately knew something was up.
“What’s going on?” Beomgyu asked, plopping down on Sunoo’s bed as if it were his own.
Sunoo hesitated, running a hand through his hair before finally sitting down beside Beomgyu. “I… I did something really stupid.”
Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, waiting for Sunoo to continue.
“I tied up Jay,” Sunoo confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. “And I kinda… terrorized him. I was just so mad, and scared, and now I don’t know what to do.”
Beomgyu blinked, processing what Sunoo had just said. “You… tied him up? Like, for real?”
“Yeah,” Sunoo muttered, staring down at his hands. “And it wasn’t just a prank or something. I was serious. I wanted answers, but now I just feel like I’ve messed everything up.”
Beomgyu let out a low whistle, leaning back against the pillows. “That’s… intense. But hey, we can figure this out. First thing’s first—have you talked to him since then?”
“No,” Sunoo admitted, his voice tinged with regret. “I’m too scared to.”
“Well, sitting here freaking out isn’t going to help,” Beomgyu said, nudging Sunoo’s shoulder. “Let’s go talk to him. You don’t have to do it alone; I’ll be your wingman.”
Sunoo looked at Beomgyu, surprised by his offer. “You’d do that?”
“Of course,” Beomgyu replied with a grin. “I’m not letting you deal with this on your own. Plus, I don’t have much else going on, so why not?”
Sunoo couldn’t help but smile at Beomgyu’s nonchalance. Even in the midst of his anxiety, Beomgyu had a way of making things seem less daunting. “Thanks, Beomgyu. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Don’t mention it,” Beomgyu said, hopping off the bed and extending a hand to Sunoo. “Come on, let’s go sort this mess out. It’s better to face it head-on than to keep stressing over it.”
Sunoo took Beomgyu’s hand and let him pull him to his feet. The knots in his stomach were still there, but having Beomgyu by his side made them a little more bearable. As they headed out, Sunoo couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, with Beomgyu’s help, he could make things right with Jay.
And maybe, just maybe, he could start to forgive himself too.
======================================================
Yeonjun had hesitated before telling Sheriff Jiwoong about the farmhouse, the weight of what he’d seen still gnawing at him. When he’d described the photos—the eerie childhood pictures of himself that had no reason to exist there—the sheriff had been skeptical, his brow furrowing in that way it did when he wasn’t sure whether to believe what he was hearing. But Jiwoong had promised to check it out, if only to ease Yeonjun’s mind.
Later that evening, Jiwoong found himself standing at the edge of the dilapidated farmhouse, the sun sinking low in the sky, casting long, ominous shadows across the fields. He approached the door with caution, pushing it open with a creak that echoed through the empty halls.
Inside, the air was thick with dust and the scent of decay. Jiwoong moved through the rooms methodically, his flashlight beam cutting through the darkness, searching for anything out of place. When he reached the room Yeonjun had described, he felt a chill run down his spine.
The photos were there, just as Yeonjun had said. Old, yellowed pictures pinned to the wall, each one featuring a young, smiling Yeonjun. Jiwoong studied them closely, his eyes narrowing as he tried to make sense of the scene. The innocence of the boy in the photos contrasted sharply with the malevolence of their presence in this abandoned place.
But it was when Jiwoong reached the last photo that he stopped cold. It was similar to the others, with Yeonjun, perhaps five or six years old, standing beside an adult. The boy looked happy, oblivious to the strange atmosphere that now surrounded these images. What made this photo different, though, was the adult beside him. The face had been violently scratched out, leaving behind deep gouges in the photograph’s surface.
Jiwoong frowned, leaning in closer. The scratches were jagged and uneven, as if whoever had done this had been in a fit of rage. He reached out and gently removed the photo from the wall, examining the back. There was nothing—no names, no dates, no clues as to who this person had been or why they had been erased from the image.
His mind raced with possibilities. Who had done this, and why? And why were these photos—pictures of Yeonjun as a child—left here in this abandoned farmhouse, a place that seemed to hold nothing but secrets and dread?
Jiwoong folded the photo carefully and slipped it into his pocket, his thoughts spinning. He needed to talk to Yeonjun again, to see if he could remember anything about this person, about the circ*mstances of these photos. But a part of him wondered if Yeonjun might already know—if there was a reason he hadn’t mentioned the adult in the picture, if perhaps he was trying to block something out.
The sheriff took one last look around the room, his unease growing. Something wasn’t right here—something dark, and twisted, and deeply personal. Whatever it was, it was clear that this wasn’t just about some random killings. There was a connection to Yeonjun, something from his past that had been dragged into the present.
As he left the farmhouse and made his way back to his car, Jiwoong couldn’t shake the feeling that the answers he was looking for were just out of reach, hidden in the shadows of Yeonjun’s past. And whatever those answers were, they were tied to this scratched-out figure—a figure that someone clearly wanted to erase from existence.
But why?
======================================================
Jaehyun was nervous as he waited for Zhang Hao outside the café where they’d agreed to meet. He’d been the one to extend the invitation, but Zhang Hao had surprised him by not only accepting but also taking charge of the entire day’s plan. Now, as Jaehyun stood there, hands stuffed into his pockets, he found himself wondering just what Zhang Hao had in store for them.
Zhang Hao arrived with a smile, his casual outfit perfectly suited to the warm, late summer day. "Ready for a full day of adventure?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.
Jaehyun grinned, feeling some of his nerves ease away. “I’m all yours,” he replied, and they set off, walking side by side.
Their first stop was the lake. Zhang Hao had brought a blanket and a small cooler filled with drinks and snacks. They found a quiet spot by the water, spreading out the blanket and settling in. The sun reflected off the calm surface of the lake, and the air was filled with the sound of distant laughter and the rustling of leaves.
As they relaxed, Zhang Hao turned to Jaehyun with a thoughtful expression. "You know, I’ve always found it interesting how peaceful the lake is, considering all the stuff that goes on in Lakewood. It’s like this little bubble of serenity."
Jaehyun nodded, glancing at the water. “Yeah, it’s strange. Sometimes I think the lake’s the only place in this town where I can actually breathe.”
Zhang Hao smiled softly. “That’s why I wanted to start here. We could all use a little peace.”
They talked about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing easily between them as they snacked on fruit and sipped cold drinks. It was simple, but it was exactly what Jaehyun needed—a break from the chaos that seemed to follow him and his friends.
After a while, Zhang Hao checked his watch. “Ready for the next stop?”
Jaehyun nodded, and they packed up their things and headed back to the car. The cinema was only a short drive away, and they arrived just in time for the afternoon showing of a classic movie Zhang Hao had picked out.
As the lights dimmed and the movie began, Jaehyun found himself stealing glances at Zhang Hao. He liked the way Zhang Hao’s eyes lit up during the funny scenes, and how he leaned forward slightly during the more intense moments. Jaehyun was grateful for this escape, even if it was only temporary.
When the movie ended, they lingered in the lobby, discussing their favorite parts and laughing about the cheesy dialogue. “I can’t believe that ending,” Jaehyun said, shaking his head with a smile.
“It’s a classic for a reason,” Zhang Hao replied, grinning. “Now, are you ready to show off your bowling skills?”
Jaehyun chuckled as they made their way to the bowling alley. “I’ll warn you—I’m pretty bad at this.”
“Perfect,” Zhang Hao teased. “That just means I won’t feel bad when I beat you.”
The bowling alley was a lively place, filled with the sound of crashing pins and cheerful chatter. They rented their shoes, picked out their balls, and took turns trying to outdo each other. Zhang Hao was as good as he’d hinted, scoring several strikes, while Jaehyun struggled to keep the ball out of the gutter.
“You’re getting better,” Zhang Hao encouraged after Jaehyun managed to knock down a few pins.
“Thanks,” Jaehyun said with a sheepish grin. “Maybe by the end of the night, I’ll actually win a game.”
Zhang Hao laughed, clearly enjoying himself. “We’ll see about that.”
As the warmth of the diner surrounded them, Jaehyun and Zhang Hao sat across from each other in their booth, sharing stories and laughter. The day had been perfect—full of lightness and ease that Jaehyun hadn’t experienced in what felt like forever. They’d just finished talking about the movie when Zhang Hao leaned back in his seat, a playful smile on his lips.
“So, I never told you,” Zhang Hao began, his tone casual, “but I actually wasn’t at school last semester because I was off attending a SpaceX program.”
Jaehyun raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? That’s pretty cool. What was it like?”
Zhang Hao shrugged, playing it off like it was no big deal. “Oh, you know, it was intense. Lots of late nights, simulations, that kind of thing. But it was worth it—definitely an experience I’ll never forget.”
For a moment, Jaehyun was impressed. The idea of someone so young being part of a SpaceX program was impressive. But then something tugged at the back of his mind. He remembered applying for the same program, excited at the prospect of being involved in something so groundbreaking. But there was no way Zhang Hao could have attended it last semester because the program hadn’t been running during those months.
He frowned slightly, trying to piece it together. “Wait, which months were you there again?”
Zhang Hao blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Uh, it was... from January to March, I think. Yeah, those were the dates.”
Jaehyun’s frown deepened. “But that doesn’t make sense. The program wasn’t even running then. I applied for it too, and they said the next round wasn’t until summer.”
There was a brief, uncomfortable silence as Zhang Hao stared at Jaehyun, realizing he’d been caught. His confident facade faltered, and he let out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “Okay, you got me,” he admitted, his tone a bit sheepish. “I wasn’t exactly being truthful.”
Jaehyun tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. “So... what’s the real story?”
Zhang Hao sighed, looking down at the table as he spoke. “I guess I just wanted to impress you. The truth is, I wasn’t at SpaceX. I was... dealing with some stuff. My adolescence wasn’t exactly smooth sailing, and I had to take some time off to sort things out.”
Jaehyun watched Zhang Hao closely, the vulnerability in his voice striking a chord with him. He could sense that Zhang Hao wasn’t used to opening up like this, and it made him feel a pang of empathy.
“What kind of stuff?” Jaehyun asked gently, not wanting to push too hard but also wanting to understand.
Zhang Hao hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I got into some trouble back then. Wrong crowd, bad decisions... you know how it goes. I had to step away from everything for a bit, get my head straight.”
There was another pause, this time filled with a different kind of silence. Jaehyun could see the weight of what Zhang Hao wasn’t saying—the struggles he must have gone through, the effort it must have taken to get back on track.
Instead of pressing further, Jaehyun nodded, offering a small, understanding smile. “I get it. We’ve all got our pasts, right? What matters is where you are now.”
Zhang Hao looked up, clearly relieved that Jaehyun wasn’t pushing him away. “Yeah... thanks. I didn’t mean to lie, I just—well, I guess I just wanted to be someone else for a moment.”
“Hey,” Jaehyun said softly, reaching across the table to touch Zhang Hao’s hand briefly. “You don’t have to be anyone else. I like you for who you are, not for what you’ve done or haven’t done.”
Zhang Hao’s eyes softened, and he gave Jaehyun a grateful smile. “You’re a good guy, Jaehyun. I’m really glad we did this today.”
Jaehyun smiled back, feeling a warmth in his chest that hadn’t been there before. “Me too, Zhang Hao. Me too.”
As they finished their meal and left the diner, Jaehyun didn’t dwell on the lie. Instead, he focused on the connection they’d made, the honesty Zhang Hao had eventually shown. He didn’t see a reason to be suspicious—instead, he felt like he understood Zhang Hao a little better, and that was enough for him.
As they walked side by side into the night, the conversation from the diner melted away, replaced by the easy banter they’d shared all day. Whatever secrets Zhang Hao might have, Jaehyun was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, everyone had a past, and everyone deserved a chance to move forward.
At the end of the day, as they walked back to the car, Jaehyun found himself wishing the day didn’t have to end. “Thanks for planning all of this,” he said quietly. “I had a great time.”
Zhang Hao smiled, a little shyly this time. “I’m glad you did. I really enjoyed it too.”
They stood there for a moment, the night air cool against their skin. Jaehyun hesitated, then reached out and took Zhang Hao’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We should do this again sometime.”
Zhang Hao squeezed back, his smile widening. “I’d like that.”
======================================================
The evening had settled into a quiet unease as Beomgyu and Sunoo pulled up to Jay's house. The air outside was thick with the scent of autumn, the chill creeping into their bones as they stood on the front porch. Sunoo reached for the doorbell, but Beomgyu stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Beomgyu asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.
Sunoo glanced at him, his expression a mix of determination and irritation. "I’m not here to make friends with him, Beomgyu. I just need to... I don’t know. Clear things up."
Beomgyu nodded, stepping back as Sunoo pressed the doorbell. They waited in silence, the chime echoing through the empty halls inside. No answer. Sunoo frowned and rang the bell again, his impatience growing. Still, there was nothing but silence.
"Maybe he’s out?" Beomgyu suggested, though he didn’t sound convinced.
Sunoo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "He knew we were coming. I texted him earlier. He should be here."
Beomgyu tried the door, and to their surprise, it swung open easily. The two exchanged a glance, both uneasy with the idea of entering uninvited, but Sunoo’s irritation outweighed his caution. He pushed the door open wider and stepped inside, Beomgyu following close behind.
The house was eerily quiet, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the walls. Sunoo felt a prickle of annoyance at the emptiness. This wasn’t how he’d envisioned this confrontation going. He was supposed to walk in, find Jay, and... well, he wasn’t exactly sure what would happen next, but it certainly wasn’t this.
"Jay?" Sunoo called out, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness. No response. He glanced at Beomgyu, who shrugged, equally perplexed.
"Maybe he’s in the back," Beomgyu suggested, but Sunoo was already moving further into the house, his irritation mounting with every step.
The kitchen was the same—deserted. Sunoo paced the length of it, his footsteps loud against the tile floor. He paused by the coffee maker, his fingers brushing against the cool surface as he muttered under his breath.
"This is ridiculous," he said, more to himself than to Beomgyu. "He drags me all the way out here, and now he’s just... gone?"
Beomgyu leaned against the counter, watching Sunoo’s growing frustration with a mix of concern and sympathy. "Maybe he had to leave suddenly? Something came up?"
Sunoo rolled his eyes, his temper flaring. "Or maybe he’s just messing with me. Typical Jay—always doing whatever he wants, never thinking about how it affects anyone else."
Beomgyu didn’t respond, sensing that Sunoo needed to vent. He let his gaze wander around the kitchen, noticing how everything was meticulously in place. It didn’t look like someone had left in a hurry—more like they’d planned to be gone for a while.
As Sunoo continued to fume, he didn’t notice the small, inconspicuous camera perched beside the coffee maker, its tiny lens capturing every word, every movement. But Beomgyu did. His eyes narrowed as he spotted the device, its red light barely visible in the dim room.
"Uh, Sunoo..." Beomgyu began, trying to sound casual, "I think we might be being watched."
Sunoo stopped in his tracks, turning to look at Beomgyu. "What are you talking about?"
Beomgyu nodded towards the coffee maker. "There’s a camera. Right there."
Sunoo’s eyes followed Beomgyu’s gaze, and when he spotted the camera, his annoyance deepened into anger. "Are you kidding me? What is this, some kind of sick joke?"
Beomgyu moved closer to the camera, inspecting it. "It looks like it’s been here for a while. Whoever set it up might be watching us right now."
Sunoo’s jaw clenched as he stared at the camera, his mind racing. This wasn’t just about Jay anymore. There was something more going on—something that made his skin crawl.
"Let’s get out of here," Beomgyu suggested, his voice tense. "This whole thing is starting to feel wrong."
Sunoo hesitated, his anger still simmering just below the surface. But Beomgyu was right—there was no point in sticking around when they didn’t know who might be watching.
"Fine," Sunoo muttered, turning on his heel and heading for the door. "But this isn’t over. Not by a long shot."
As they left the house, the camera by the coffee maker remained fixed on the empty kitchen, the faint hum of its recording the only sound in the room.
======================================================
The Grindhouse coffee shop was buzzing with the usual afternoon crowd, but Jiung’s attention was focused solely on Yeonjun, who was standing behind the counter, his expression more sour than usual. Jiung could sense that something was off between Yeonjun and Soobin—he’d noticed the tension the moment he walked in. And while Jiung wasn’t one to stir the pot, he couldn’t resist the chance to get a little closer to Yeonjun.
Leaning against the counter, Jiung flashed Yeonjun a grin. "You look like you could use a distraction," he said, his voice smooth, almost teasing.
Yeonjun sighed, wiping down the counter with more force than necessary. "Not in the mood, Jiung."
Jiung raised an eyebrow, undeterred. "What happened? You and Soobin have a spat or something?"
Yeonjun shot him a glare, but there was something in his eyes that suggested Jiung wasn’t far off the mark. "It’s complicated," Yeonjun muttered, clearly not wanting to delve into details.
"Everything’s complicated with you, isn’t it?" Jiung replied, leaning in just a little closer. He reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of Yeonjun’s apron, giving it a light tug. "But complicated doesn’t mean it can’t be fun."
Yeonjun’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by Jiung’s boldness. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the door to the Grindhouse swung open, and in walked Soobin. He froze for a moment, taking in the sight of Jiung so close to Yeonjun, his fingers still lingering on Yeonjun’s apron.
Soobin’s expression darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line. He didn’t say anything—just stared at the scene unfolding before him, his eyes flickering between Jiung and Yeonjun. There was a moment of tense silence, heavy with unspoken words, before Soobin simply turned on his heel and walked right back out the door.
Yeonjun watched him go, feeling a pang of guilt twist in his chest. "Soobin, wait—" he called after him, but it was too late. Soobin was already gone, the door swinging shut behind him with a soft thud.
Jiung smirked, clearly pleased with the reaction he’d elicited. "Guess I interrupted something," he said, not sounding the least bit sorry.
Yeonjun shot him a look that was equal parts exasperated and frustrated. "You think?"
Jiung shrugged, unbothered. "Hey, I didn’t mean to cause trouble. But if you ever want to talk about it—or, you know, not talk—I’m here."
Yeonjun rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You’re impossible, you know that?"
"That’s what makes me so charming," Jiung replied with a wink.
Yeonjun shook his head, though the tension from earlier seemed to have eased, at least a little. "Just... get out of here, Jiung. I’ve got work to do."
Jiung held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. But seriously, Yeonjun—don’t let him get to you. You deserve someone who appreciates you."
With that, Jiung finally took his leave, leaving Yeonjun standing behind the counter, his thoughts swirling. He wasn’t sure what to make of Jiung’s flirting or Soobin’s reaction to it, but one thing was clear: things were only going to get more complicated from here.
======================================================
The bell chimed as Jaehyun pushed open the glass door of Walgreens, the fluorescent lights inside casting a sterile glow over the aisles of everyday necessities. He moved with purpose, though a slight tension in his shoulders hinted at his nervousness. Jaehyun wasn’t sure why he was so jittery—after all, buying condoms was a perfectly normal, responsible thing to do. Still, there was a certain awkwardness about it that he couldn’t quite shake.
He found the aisle he was looking for and paused in front of the colorful boxes, his eyes scanning over the various brands and sizes. The sheer number of options was overwhelming, and he hesitated, unsure of which one to choose.
Just as he was about to reach for a box, a voice startled him from behind. "Oh, hello there, dear!"
Jaehyun turned to see a sweet-looking elderly woman, her gray hair neatly curled, and her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. She was smiling warmly at him, a basket of cough drops and hand lotion dangling from her arm.
"Uh, hi," Jaehyun replied, forcing a smile. He hoped she wouldn’t linger too long—this was already awkward enough.
The woman’s eyes twinkled as she glanced at the shelves in front of him, immediately zeroing in on the display of condoms. "Oh, I see you’re looking for something... important," she said with a knowing nod.
Jaehyun’s face flushed crimson. "Uh, yeah. Just, you know, being responsible."
"That’s good to hear!" the woman said cheerfully. "Better safe than sorry, right?"
Jaehyun nodded, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. He reached for a random box, hoping to get this over with as quickly as possible.
But the woman wasn’t done. She tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. "Do you know what size you need, dear? It’s important to get the right fit, you know."
Jaehyun nearly dropped the box in his hand. "Uh, I—uh..." He stammered, at a complete loss for words.
The woman leaned in a little closer, as if sharing a secret. "You know, my late husband, God rest his soul, always said it’s better to be prepared. He used to say, ‘You wouldn’t wear shoes that are too tight, now would you?’"
Jaehyun couldn’t believe this was happening. He managed a weak chuckle, trying to figure out how to gracefully extract himself from this situation. "Uh, thanks for the advice, but I think I’ve got it covered."
The woman gave him a pat on the arm. "Good for you, dear. And don’t be shy—everyone needs a little help sometimes. Now, if you need anything else, I’ll be in the next aisle. My grandson says they have the best gummy vitamins here!"
With that, she gave him one last encouraging smile and wandered off, leaving Jaehyun standing there, still holding the box of condoms. He glanced down at it, then quickly shoved it into his basket, deciding that he had had enough of this particular errand.
As he made his way to the checkout, Jaehyun couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. Of all the things that could have happened at Walgreens, getting condom advice from a grandmotherly type was not what he’d expected. Still, it was a good reminder that life had a way of surprising you when you least expected it.
======================================================
Late at night, the school was eerily quiet, the only sound the soft clicking of the clock on the wall as Sooyoung, the psychology teacher, sat hunched over her desk, headphones clamped tightly over her ears. The dim light from her desk lamp cast long shadows across her cluttered office, illuminating stacks of papers and a framed photo of her with some former students. She had been replaying recordings from her sessions with Yeonjun, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Each recording brought back memories of the anxious, troubled boy who had sought her counsel. His voice, trembling with worry, echoed in her ears as she scribbled notes, her pen moving almost mechanically. Something about his recent sessions had left her uneasy, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
As she clicked to start the next recording, her phone buzzed on the desk, making her jump. She pulled off her headphones and glanced at the screen. The caller ID read “UNKNOWN.” Sooyoung hesitated, her finger hovering over the answer button. There had been too many strange things happening lately, too many unexplained incidents.
Taking a deep breath, she swiped to answer. “Hello?”
A distorted voice crackled through the line, low and menacing. “You shouldn’t be alone at night, Sooyoung.”
Her blood ran cold. “Who is this?”
The voice ignored her question. “How are those recordings? Learn anything interesting?”
Sooyoung’s grip tightened on the phone. “If this is a joke, it’s not funny. I’ll be reporting this.”
A soft, mocking laugh came through the line. “Oh, Sooyoung, you’re so focused on Yeonjun. But you’re missing the bigger picture. Turn around.”
Her heart pounded in her chest as she slowly turned in her chair, her eyes scanning the darkened hallway outside her office. At first, she saw nothing, just the empty corridor bathed in the dim glow of the exit signs. But then, a small figure caught her eye—a wind-up pig toy, its tiny legs clattering against the floor as it slowly moved toward her office.
Sooyoung’s breath hitched. The toy was innocent enough, but its presence in the middle of the night, combined with the creepy phone call, sent chills down her spine. She dropped the phone onto her desk and stood, her gaze fixed on the toy as it neared the doorway.
“What do you want from me?” she called out, her voice trembling.
The toy stopped moving, its eyes staring blankly ahead. Sooyoung took a hesitant step back, feeling an inexplicable dread settling over her.
Suddenly, she heard a crash behind her. She whipped around to see her office being torn apart—books flying off shelves, papers scattering like leaves in a storm, and her desk lamp smashing to the floor, plunging the room into darkness. It was as if an invisible force was wreaking havoc in the small space, and she was powerless to stop it.
“Stop it!” she screamed, backing toward the hallway, her hands shaking.
But the destruction didn’t stop. It intensified, the room becoming a whirlwind of chaos until it abruptly ceased, leaving the office in shambles. Sooyoung stood frozen in the doorway, her mind struggling to process what had just happened.
Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw movement. She turned just in time to see a figure step out of the shadows—a masked killer, Ghostface, looming ominously in the hallway. In one hand, the killer held something small and grotesque—a crusty, severed hand, its fingers curled in a macabre gesture.
Sooyoung’s stomach churned in revulsion. “I don’t want it,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
But the killer took a step closer, extending the hand toward her. The sight was too much. With a strangled cry, Sooyoung turned and bolted down the hallway, her footsteps echoing through the empty school as she ran for her life.
Ghostface gave chase, the sound of heavy footsteps and the swish of the robe right behind her, spurring her on. She didn’t dare look back, her only thought was to escape, to survive. As she rounded a corner, she spotted the exit at the end of the hallway, the red sign glowing like a beacon of hope.
Sooyoung’s frantic dash through the darkened school came to a sudden halt as she skidded to a stop in a deserted hallway. She was breathless, her heart pounding in her chest, her eyes wide with terror. But then she saw something—or rather, someone—lying in the middle of the hallway. It was a figure sprawled on the cold floor, barely moving.
She hesitated, her breath catching in her throat. “Hello?” she called out, her voice trembling.
The figure stirred, letting out a low groan of pain. Sooyoung’s blood ran cold as she recognized the face, pale and drawn, with blood trickling from a wound on his temple. It was Jay, the former teacher who had mysteriously disappeared.
“Jay!” she gasped, rushing to his side. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Jay’s eyes fluttered open, filled with fear and confusion. “He... he attacked me,” he rasped, his voice weak. “You have to get out of here, Sooyoung. He’s coming...”
Sooyoung quickly glanced around, her nerves on edge. The hallway was eerily silent, the only sound the faint hum of the school’s ventilation system. “I’m not leaving you,” she insisted, slipping an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, we need to get out of here.”
But as she struggled to help Jay to his feet, a chilling sound reached her ears—the slow, deliberate steps of someone approaching. Her heart sank as she turned to see Ghostface emerging from the shadows, the glint of the knife catching the dim light.
Jay tried to push her away. “Run, Sooyoung! Get out of here!”
But it was too late. The killer lunged, and Sooyoung barely had time to react. She shoved Jay aside, spinning to face her attacker, her eyes blazing with defiance. “You won’t get away with this!” she shouted, raising her fists, ready to fight.
Ghostface paused, tilting his head as if considering her words. Then, with a swift, brutal motion, he swung the knife toward her. Sooyoung dodged, narrowly avoiding the blade, and kicked out, catching the killer in the side.
For a moment, she thought she might have a chance. But Ghostface was relentless, countering her every move with precision and force. Sooyoung fought back fiercely, using everything she had learned in her self-defense classes. But she was outmatched, her strength waning as the killer pushed her further back.
In a desperate bid to escape, Sooyoung turned and ran, only to feel a hand grab the back of her shirt, yanking her backward. She struggled, but the killer was too strong. With a vicious shove, Ghostface sent her careening toward the edge of the staircase.
Sooyoung’s feet slipped out from under her, and she screamed as she tumbled down the stairs, her body slamming into the steps before she crashed onto the tile floor below. Pain exploded in her head as she landed hard, her vision blurring as she tried to push herself up.
But her strength was gone. The world tilted around her, and she collapsed onto the cold floor, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Above her, Ghostface loomed at the top of the stairs, his dark silhouette framed against the dim light.
Sooyoung’s vision dimmed, her consciousness slipping away as the pain overwhelmed her. The last thing she saw was the killer turning away, his footsteps echoing through the empty school as he disappeared into the darkness.
======================================================
Jaehyun and Zhang Hao were in Jaehyun’s room, the dim light of the desk lamp casting shadows across the walls. The air was thick with the mix of nervous anticipation and the subtle hum of Jaehyun’s computer. Zhang Hao had been invited over for a casual hangout, but his mind was racing with a different agenda.
Jaehyun glanced at him, trying to read the mood. “Want something to drink? I’ve got some beer or...”
Zhang Hao shook his head, a mischievous glint in his eye. “No thanks. I’m actually more interested in something else.”
Jaehyun raised an eyebrow, curious but not entirely sure what Zhang Hao was hinting at. “Oh? What’s that?”
Zhang Hao’s eyes flicked to Jaehyun’s computer, a smirk forming on his lips. “How about we make things a bit more... interesting?”
Jaehyun, momentarily distracted by the suggestion, walked over to his desk and leaned on it. “Interesting how?”
Zhang Hao leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, I was thinking... maybe we could, you know, have some fun before I head out.”
Jaehyun chuckled, a bit taken aback but intrigued. “You’re not holding back, are you?”
“Not at all,” Zhang Hao said with a playful grin. “I just thought it might be a good way to unwind.”
Before Jaehyun could respond, Zhang Hao made a subtle move toward the computer. Under the pretense of checking something, he opened a file he had discreetly saved earlier. It was an audio file—a confession from Beomgyu, implicating him in luring Hanbin to town. Zhang Hao quickly forwarded the file to his own email, taking care not to let Jaehyun notice his actions.
With the file securely sent, Zhang Hao turned back to Jaehyun, who was now eyeing him with renewed interest. “I’m all yours,” Zhang Hao said, his voice low and suggestive.
Jaehyun’s eyes softened as he moved closer, their proximity charged with unspoken tension. “I guess I can’t resist that offer.”
The moment felt both intense and electric. They exchanged a heated kiss, their hands exploring each other with a mix of urgency and passion. Zhang Hao guided Jaehyun toward the bed, their movements becoming more fervent as they embraced.
As they made love, the room was filled with a mixture of sounds—whispers, gasps, and the rhythmic pulse of their bodies. It was a release from the chaos that had enveloped them, a brief escape into intimacy and connection amidst the turmoil of their lives.
Afterward, they lay entwined, their breathing heavy but content. Zhang Hao, still basking in the afterglow, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction—not just from their encounter but from having secured the incriminating evidence against Beomgyu.
Jaehyun, propped up on one elbow, looked at Zhang Hao with a mix of curiosity and affection. “That was... unexpected. But I’m glad you’re here.”
Zhang Hao smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair from Jaehyun’s face. “I’m glad too. And who knows? Maybe this will be the start of something more.”
Jaehyun nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, maybe. For now, let’s just enjoy the moment.”
As they settled into a comfortable silence, the weight of their actions lingered in the air. Zhang Hao felt a sense of accomplishment, knowing he had gained crucial evidence. But he also felt a deeper connection with Jaehyun, one that promised more complexities and possibilities in the days to come.
======================================================
The sunlight streamed through the cracks in Jaehyun’s blinds as Beomgyu burst into the room, a frantic look on his face. The door slammed open with a loud bang, startling Jaehyun and Zhang Hao, who were tangled up in bed.
Jaehyun bolted upright, his eyes wide with alarm. “Beomgyu! What’s going on?”
Beomgyu, barely pausing to catch his breath, blurted out, “I’ve been trying to reach you guys all day! I’ve got some awful news. Sooyoung, our psychology teacher—she’s been attacked! She’s in the hospital now.”
Zhang Hao, now fully awake and sitting up, exchanged a worried glance with Jaehyun. “What? Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” Beomgyu said, his voice trembling. “They found her in the hallway. Her skull was smashed. It’s a mess. And they’re saying she’s in critical condition.”
Jaehyun quickly swung his legs over the edge of the bed, rubbing his face in disbelief. “How did this happen? Why didn’t we hear about this earlier?”
“I don’t know,” Beomgyu replied, pacing back and forth. “I tried calling everyone. It’s been all over the news, but it seems like no one really knows the details yet. I just thought you should know. We need to go to the hospital, figure out what’s going on.”
Zhang Hao, still processing the shock, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we should definitely check it out. We can’t just sit here.”
Jaehyun, shaking off the grogginess, quickly dressed. “Let’s go then. We need to get to the hospital and see if there’s any information or if there’s anything we can do.”
Beomgyu, his urgency palpable, followed Jaehyun and Zhang Hao as they rushed out of the house. “I’m so glad you’re both here. I was really starting to worry.”
As they headed towards the hospital, the gravity of the situation began to sink in. The attack on Sooyoung was a stark reminder of the danger that loomed over them all, and the tension between the friends was palpable. They knew that getting to the bottom of this mystery was now more urgent than ever.
======================================================
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows over the quiet streets as Jiung wrapped up his jog. He spotted Yeonjun walking alone, his shoulders hunched and his expression lost in thought. Deciding to seize the moment, Jiung quickened his pace to catch up.
“Hey, Yeonjun!” Jiung called out, his voice cheerful. “You’re looking a bit down. How about a change of scenery? Let’s go have some fun.”
Yeonjun looked up, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips despite the weight on his mind. “Fun? What do you have in mind?”
Jiung’s eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. “How about a little adventure? I call it ‘Goldilocks-ing.’ We’ll explore some abandoned places in the old suburb. It’ll be a blast!”
Yeonjun’s eyebrows shot up. “Goldilocks-ing? You mean like breaking into empty houses?”
Jiung grinned, giving Yeonjun a playful nudge. “Exactly! It’s a bit creepy but also kind of thrilling. What do you say?”
Yeonjun hesitated for a moment, the idea striking him as both absurd and oddly intriguing. He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re really something, Jiung. But… why not? It’s not like I have anything better to do.”
“Perfect!” Jiung clapped his hands together. “Let’s go then. It’ll be fun, I promise. And who knows, we might find something interesting.”
The two headed toward the abandoned suburb, the air growing cooler as the sun dipped lower. The houses they approached were old and decrepit, with broken windows and overgrown yards. Despite the eerie setting, Yeonjun found himself surprisingly excited.
As they crept around an old, once-grand house, Yeonjun’s laughter broke through the tension. “This place is seriously falling apart. It’s like something out of a horror movie.”
Jiung chuckled, his enthusiasm unabated. “That’s the best part! It’s all about the thrill. Plus, it’s nice to get away from all the heavy stuff for a bit.”
Yeonjun nudged Jiung with his shoulder, playfully punching him. “Alright, Goldilocks. Lead the way.”
They ventured deeper into the derelict suburb, exploring rooms filled with dust-covered furniture and long-forgotten belongings. Despite the unsettling atmosphere, Yeonjun found himself enjoying the break from reality. The laughter and light-heartedness shared with Jiung felt like a temporary escape from the chaos surrounding them.
======================================================
The two friends pushed open the creaky door of the model home, the dim light filtering through broken windows casting eerie shadows on the walls. The house, once a showcase of suburban luxury, had long since fallen into disrepair. Despite its dilapidated state, the space still held a strange allure, offering a temporary escape from their troubles.
Jiung set down the small cooler of drinks he had brought along and started to pour. “Here we are, the perfect place for a little break,” he said, handing Yeonjun a drink with a grin.
Yeonjun took the drink with a half-hearted smile, looking around at the dusty furniture and faded wallpaper. “You really do have a knack for finding the weirdest spots.”
“Hey, it’s all about the adventure,” Jiung replied, taking a sip of his own drink. “And sometimes, you just need to do something different to shake off the stress.”
As the evening wore on and their drinks flowed, the atmosphere between them grew more relaxed. Jiung, feeling bold, edged closer to Yeonjun, his intentions becoming clearer with each passing moment.
“Yeonjun,” Jiung said softly, his voice carrying a hint of longing. “You know, I’ve really enjoyed hanging out with you tonight. I was thinking—maybe we could—”
Yeonjun cut him off gently, setting his drink down with a sigh. “Jiung, I appreciate the effort, really. But I need to be honest with you. I’m not interested in being in a love triangle, especially not with two cousins.”
Jiung looked taken aback, his expression shifting from hopeful to disappointed. “Wait, what? Two cousins?”
Yeonjun nodded, avoiding Jiung’s gaze. “Yeah. I’m... I’m in love with Soobin. It’s complicated, and I just don’t want to be caught up in something that could hurt him or me.”
The air between them grew tense, and Jiung’s shoulders slumped slightly. “I see. I didn’t realize it was that serious. I’m sorry if I overstepped.”
Before the conversation could continue, an unsettling sound came from the bathroom. Neither of them noticed the soft, sinister noises coming from behind the door, nor the faint, unpleasant odor that started to permeate the room.
Jiung tried to shake off his disappointment. “You know, I didn’t mean to make things awkward. I just thought…”
Yeonjun managed a sad smile. “I know, Jiung. And I appreciate you being upfront about it. Maybe we should just focus on being friends. It’s simpler that way.”
Jiung nodded, trying to mask his disappointment. “Yeah, friends sounds good.”
They continued talking, trying to ignore the growing sense of unease that seemed to hang in the air. As they settled down, neither of them realized just how grim their surroundings were, nor the dark secrets that lay hidden within the model home’s walls.
======================================================
As Yeonjun and Jiung stumbled out of the crumbling model home, the night air felt oddly calm after their unsettling conversation. The cool breeze did little to offset the sense of unease that lingered between them. They walked down the driveway, chatting idly about their night, when a sudden crackling sound stopped them in their tracks.
“What’s that noise?” Jiung asked, looking back at the house.
Yeonjun’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh my God, the house—it’s on fire!”
Flames leapt from the windows, illuminating the night sky in an ominous orange glow. The fire spread rapidly, consuming the model home with terrifying speed. The sound of the blaze was deafening, and the heat from the flames pushed them back.
“We need to get away from here!” Jiung shouted, pulling Yeonjun away from the inferno. They sprinted to a safe distance, their breaths coming in ragged gasps as they watched the house burn.
The fire’s roar drowned out everything else, but in the distance, a faint, desperate sound began to pierce through the chaos. It was the sound of muffled cries, barely audible over the crackle of the flames.
Inside the bathroom of the now-gutted house, Jay was trapped in the bathtub, his body bloodied and battered. The flames had begun to creep into the room, licking at the edges of the bathtub and filling the space with unbearable heat. Jay’s weak movements were desperate but futile; the searing heat was closing in.
“Help! Please, someone help!” Jay’s voice was barely more than a whisper, choked with pain and terror.
Chapter 18: Village of the Damned
Chapter Text
Beomgyu stirred in his sleep, the warmth of his blanket cocooning him against the chill of the night. But something felt off. A faint, rhythmic dripping sound broke through the silence, like a leaky faucet. His brow furrowed as he turned over, trying to block out the noise, but the drip persisted, growing louder, more insistent.
He finally opened his eyes, blinking blearily at the ceiling. His breath caught in his throat. Above him, scrawled in thick, dark letters, were the words “12 DEAD.” The substance used to write it was dripping steadily, splattering onto his face, his neck, his pillow. It was everywhere.
“What the—” Beomgyu bolted upright, nearly slipping in the mess that now coated his duvet. His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Was it blood? Barbecue sauce? The sickly sweet smell suggested the latter, but the sight was no less horrifying.
Panic clawed at him, his mind racing as he stared at the grotesque message. The crimson liquid dripped relentlessly, sliding down the walls, soaking into his bed, his skin. He could feel it on his face, the wet stickiness making his skin crawl.
Beomgyu’s breath came in quick, shallow gasps. He wiped his face with trembling hands, smearing the substance further. It took him a moment to tear his eyes away from the ceiling, only to find another message, scrawled on his mirror in the same sinister writing: “NO ONE WILL EVER FORGIVE YOU.”
His blood ran cold. The words echoed in his mind, a cruel reminder of his past—his mistakes, his regrets. The message felt personal, like a dagger aimed directly at his heart. Whoever had done this knew him, knew how to hurt him.
“This can’t be real,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he stared at the words. “This isn’t happening…”
But it was real. The evidence was smeared all over him, dripping from his ceiling, staining his room with a gruesome message that he couldn’t ignore. Beomgyu’s mind raced, trying to figure out what to do, who could have done this.
He stumbled out of bed, nearly slipping on the slick floor, his heart hammering in his chest. The mess was everywhere—his clothes, his skin, his bed—it felt like it was suffocating him. He rushed to the mirror, staring at the words as though he could somehow erase them with sheer willpower.
“No one will ever forgive you.”
The phrase hung in the air, a suffocating presence that made it hard to breathe. His reflection looked back at him, pale and frightened, covered in the dripping substance. The Beomgyu in the mirror seemed like a stranger, a shadow of himself, haunted by the weight of the words.
“Who did this?” he whispered, his voice shaking. But there was no answer, only the mocking silence of his room, the incessant dripping, and the terror that gnawed at his insides.
He grabbed a towel and tried to wipe away the mess, but it was futile. The substance clung to everything it touched, soaking into the fabric, smearing across the glass. The words remained, etched into his mind as much as they were scrawled across his room.
Beomgyu backed away from the mirror, his eyes darting around the room, looking for any sign of the intruder who had done this. But he was alone. The only sound was the relentless drip, drip, drip of the liquid from the ceiling.
He couldn’t stay here. Not with those words staring back at him, taunting him, reminding him of every sin he had committed. He needed to get out, to find help, to figure out who was behind this sick game.
With a final, panicked glance at the mirror, Beomgyu bolted from his room, the sticky substance still clinging to his skin as he fled down the hall. He didn’t know where he was going or what he would do, but he couldn’t stay here. Not with those words and that awful, dripping reminder of the horror he was now a part of.
======================================================
The tension was palpable as the five of them sat together in the school courtyard, each one of them hyper-aware of the others' every move. The sun was shining, the trees swayed gently in the breeze, but the peaceful atmosphere did nothing to ease the unease that had settled among them. Trust had become a rare commodity, and suspicion, a constant companion.
Yeonjun leaned against the bench, arms crossed, his eyes flicking from one friend to the next. Jaehyun sat beside him, legs stretched out, trying to appear relaxed but his jaw was clenched tight. Zhang Hao was on the other side, fidgeting with the straps of his backpack, while Sunoo and Leehan shared a whispered conversation just a few feet away. The air was thick with unsaid words, each of them waiting for someone else to break the silence.
“So,” Jaehyun began, his voice carefully neutral, “anyone else feeling like they’re living in a murder mystery novel?”
Zhang Hao let out a short laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Only if it’s one of those really twisted ones where everyone turns on each other by the end.”
Sunoo glanced over at them, his expression unreadable. “We’re all still friends, right? I mean…we’ve been through a lot together.”
“Friends,” Leehan echoed, though his tone was more questioning than affirming. “But how much can you really trust someone when things get this messed up?”
Yeonjun sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “We don’t have much of a choice. We need to stick together if we’re going to figure out what’s really going on. But yeah…it’s complicated.”
The conversation stalled, each of them lost in their thoughts. There was a time when they would have laughed about something trivial, planned a weekend trip, or just enjoyed the normalcy of being teenagers. Now, there was an undercurrent of fear in everything they did. Every glance, every word, held a double meaning.
Jaehyun broke the silence again, more pointedly this time. “So, any of you want to come clean about anything? I mean, we all know something’s off. Better to air it out now before things get worse.”
Zhang Hao shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Jaehyun’s gaze. “I don’t have anything to confess,” he muttered. “But I could say the same to you.”
Sunoo, usually the most upbeat of them, looked down at his hands, his fingers twisting together anxiously. “We all have secrets,” he said softly. “Doesn’t mean we’re guilty of anything.”
“But some secrets are more dangerous than others,” Leehan added, his eyes darting to each of them in turn. “And we need to figure out which ones those are before it’s too late.”
Yeonjun felt his stomach twist. He didn’t want to doubt his friends—these were the people who had stood by him when things got dark, who had faced horrors together. But the nagging thought wouldn’t leave him alone: What if one of them really was behind all this?
“Look,” he said, trying to bring some semblance of calm to the conversation. “We’re all on edge. Let’s not start pointing fingers. If we start turning on each other, we’re playing right into the killer’s hands. We have to be smart about this.”
Jaehyun nodded slowly. “Agreed. But we still need to be careful. Trust, but verify, right?”
Zhang Hao managed a weak smile. “Sounds like a terrible friendship motto, but I guess it’s all we’ve got right now.”
They lapsed into silence again, the weight of the situation settling over them like a dark cloud. The trust they once had was fractured, each of them holding back, wary of what the others might be hiding. And yet, they needed each other more than ever, even if it meant living with the constant suspicion that one of them might be a killer.
======================================================
The morning sun cast a harsh light over the smoldering remains of the model house. Fire trucks and police cars lined the street, their flashing lights reflecting off the broken windows and charred walls. Smoke still curled up from the blackened skeleton of the once pristine home, now nothing more than a burned-out shell.
Firefighters moved methodically through the ruins, dousing hot spots and securing the site. Nearby, a group of detectives and forensic officers huddled around the house’s remains, their faces grim as they processed the scene. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burnt wood and plastic, mixed with something far more unsettling.
Sheriff Jiwoong stood at the edge of the wreckage, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes were fixed on the remains of the bathtub visible through the collapsed walls. The stench of burned flesh was unmistakable, and the sight of the two charred bodies lying in the tub was enough to turn anyone’s stomach.
“Goddamn it,” one of the detectives muttered under his breath as he stepped back from the gruesome discovery. “This just keeps getting worse.”
Sheriff Jiwoong nodded, his jaw clenched. “Get the forensics team in here. I want those bodies identified as quickly as possible.”
The detective gave a sharp nod and turned to relay the order. As he did, one of the firefighters approached Jiwoong, pulling off his helmet and wiping sweat from his brow.
“Sheriff, it’s bad. Whoever did this made sure there wasn’t much left to go on. We found signs of accelerants all over the place—this fire was intentional. And those bodies…they were here before the fire started.”
Jiwoong’s expression darkened. “It’s not just arson. This is a cover-up. Whoever did this didn’t want those bodies to be found.”
The firefighter’s face was somber as he nodded in agreement. “Looks that way.”
As the forensics team began carefully extracting the remains from the tub, one of the techs paused, her face paling as she examined what little was left of one of the victims.
“Sheriff,” she called out, her voice tight. “We’ve got something. This one…there’s a tattoo. It’s faint, but it’s there. We might be able to ID him.”
Jiwoong approached, peering over her shoulder at the burned skin. The faint outline of a tattoo was visible on the victim’s forearm, barely discernible through the blackened flesh.
“That’s enough to work with,” he said grimly. “Get a close-up and run it through the database. I want an ID as soon as possible.”
The tech nodded, quickly snapping photos and sending them off for analysis. As she worked, Jiwoong’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen before answering.
“Sheriff Jiwoong.”
“Sheriff, it’s Dispatch. We’ve got a hit on that tattoo. The victim’s name is Jay Park. He’s connected to the Lakewood murders.”
Jiwoong’s grip tightened on his phone. “Understood. Anything else?”
“There’s no record of the other victim yet. We’ll keep digging, but it might take some time.”
======================================================
Yeonjun sat in the Sheriff’s office, the cold metal of the chair pressing uncomfortably against his back. The weight of his decision to come clean about the burned-down house was heavier than he anticipated, but he knew he couldn’t keep it to himself any longer. The guilt had been gnawing at him since last night, and with everything else spiraling out of control, it felt like the right thing to do.
Sheriff Jiwoong sat across from him, flipping through a stack of papers. His expression was unreadable, a professional mask that gave nothing away. Yeonjun cleared his throat, nerves making his voice waver slightly as he began.
“I, uh, I wanted to tell you about something that happened last night. Jiung and I…we were at this abandoned house in the old suburb. I know it was stupid, but we were just messing around. And then…well, the house caught on fire.”
Sheriff Jiwoong looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned forward. “Caught on fire? How exactly did that happen?”
Yeonjun swallowed hard, regretting his decision to come in. “I’m not really sure. We were just hanging out, talking, and then as soon as we left the house, it just…went up in flames. We didn’t do anything to start it, I swear. But I felt like you should know.”
The Sheriff studied him for a long moment, his gaze intense, as if he were trying to read Yeonjun’s thoughts. Finally, he sat back in his chair, a slow nod accompanying his words. “It’s good that you came forward with this, Yeonjun. But you need to understand that this is serious. An arson investigation is already underway, and people could have been hurt.”
Yeonjun felt a cold shiver run down his spine. “I know, and I’m sorry. We never meant for any of this to happen. I just…I didn’t want to hide it.”
Sheriff Jiwoong sighed, tapping a pen against the desk. “I appreciate your honesty. But there’s something else you should know. Since you’re being straightforward with me, it’s only fair I return the favor.”
Yeonjun blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”
The Sheriff’s expression darkened, his voice lowering as he spoke. “Jiung. He’s not as harmless as he might seem. There’s a reason you shouldn’t be getting too close to him. Back in his hometown, he had a restraining order filed against him by a girl. She claimed he broke into her house and stalked her.”
Yeonjun felt his stomach drop. “What? No, Jiung’s not like that… He’s just…he’s just a little intense sometimes.”
The Sheriff raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “That may be, but the records don’t lie. I’m telling you this because I don’t want you getting caught up in something dangerous. If he’s willing to break into a girl’s house and stalk her, who knows what else he’s capable of?”
Yeonjun’s mind raced, trying to reconcile the Jiung he knew with this new, disturbing information. “Are you saying you think he could be involved in all this? The murders, the fires…everything?”
Sheriff Jiwoong shrugged, his tone carefully measured. “I’m not saying anything for certain. But I am saying you should be careful who you trust. People aren’t always what they seem, and in situations like this, it’s better to err on the side of caution.”
Yeonjun nodded slowly, the Sheriff’s words sinking in. He felt a sickening mix of betrayal and fear, unsure of what to believe anymore. Everything was unraveling, and the lines between friend and foe were blurring faster than he could keep up.
“I’ll… I’ll keep that in mind,” Yeonjun said quietly, standing up from the chair. His legs felt weak, and the room seemed to tilt slightly as he made his way to the door.
As he left the office, his thoughts swirled in a chaotic mess. He’d come to the Sheriff’s office to clear his conscience, but instead, he was leaving with more doubts than ever. The revelation about Jiung gnawed at him, but deep down, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was still more to the story. He just wasn’t sure if he was ready to find out what that was.
======================================================
Yeonjun stood in the lobby of the sheriff’s station, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he stared at the floor. The sterile, fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a harsh glow on the tiled floor. He was trying to process everything the Sheriff had told him, but his thoughts were a tangled mess, and the last thing he wanted was a conversation with Jiung right now.
The front doors swung open, and Jiung walked in, his usual confident stride faltering slightly when he saw Yeonjun standing there. His face lit up with a smile, but it quickly faded when he noticed the cold look in Yeonjun’s eyes.
“Hey, Yeonjun,” Jiung started, trying to sound casual but failing to mask the worry in his voice. “I heard you were here. Everything okay?”
Yeonjun glanced up briefly, his expression unreadable, before looking away again. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” he replied flatly, his tone making it clear that he didn’t want to talk.
Jiung frowned, stepping closer, his concern deepening. “What’s wrong? Did something happen? You can talk to me, you know.”
Yeonjun shifted uncomfortably, still avoiding Jiung’s gaze. “I’m just… not in the mood to talk right now.”
Jiung’s face fell, a mixture of confusion and hurt flickering across his features. “Did I do something wrong? If I did, just tell me. I’ll fix it.”
Yeonjun finally looked up, meeting Jiung’s eyes with a guarded expression. “I don’t know, Jiung. I just… I need some space.”
The words hung in the air between them, heavy and final. Jiung opened his mouth to protest, to explain himself, but the determined set of Yeonjun’s jaw told him it was pointless. Whatever chance he’d had with Yeonjun, whatever spark had been there, was now smoldering out.
“Okay,” Jiung said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a step back, trying to mask his disappointment with a forced smile. “If that’s what you need. Just… take care of yourself, okay?”
Yeonjun nodded, his expression softening just a fraction. “You too.”
Jiung lingered for a moment, as if hoping Yeonjun might change his mind, but when nothing more was said, he finally turned and walked away, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The playful, flirty dynamic they’d shared felt like a distant memory now, overshadowed by the weight of everything that had happened.
As Jiung disappeared through the doors, Yeonjun let out a shaky breath, his heart heavy with a mix of regret and relief. He didn’t want to believe that Jiung could be dangerous, but the doubt had already taken root, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. For now, it was safer to keep his distance, even if it meant losing whatever connection they’d started to build.
======================================================
The school’s PA system crackled to life, and Principal Kim’s voice echoed through the hallways, its usual stern tone laced with forced enthusiasm. “Attention students, I have an important announcement regarding the Prince of the Lake beauty pageant.”
Yeonjun glanced up from his locker, exchanging a puzzled look with Beomgyu, who was leaning against the wall nearby. The news about Sunghoon’s murder had cast a long shadow over the school, and most of them had assumed that the pageant would be canceled out of respect. But, of course, this was Lakewood.
“In light of recent events, there have been some concerns about whether the pageant will continue as planned,” Principal Kim continued, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice. “However, after careful consideration, we have decided that the pageant will go on as scheduled, in conjunction with the town’s 100-year-anniversary celebration and the carnival.”
A chorus of whispers broke out among the students, the absurdity of the decision hitting them all at once. Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-incredulous. “Of course, they’re not canceling it,” he muttered to Beomgyu, who snorted in agreement.
“And now, for the list of contestants,” Principal Kim went on, seemingly oblivious to the growing unrest. “We are pleased to announce that Sunoo and Zhang Hao have been selected as finalists in the Prince of the Lake pageant!”
Yeonjun’s jaw dropped slightly, and he could see Beomgyu stifling a laugh beside him. “Are you kidding me?” Yeonjun said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sunoo? Zhang Hao? They’re the last people who’d want to be in that thing.”
Down the hallway, Sunoo’s eyes widened in horror as he caught the announcement. He had been trying to blend into the background ever since the blood-soaked incident at the assembly, and now this? He slumped against the wall, rubbing his temples in frustration. “Why me?” he muttered to himself, his voice tinged with resignation. “Why does this stuff always happen to me?”
Zhang Hao, on the other hand, was frozen in place, his expression a mixture of shock and annoyance. “This has to be a mistake,” he grumbled under his breath, glaring at the intercom as if it had personally wronged him. He had managed to avoid the spotlight for most of his time at Lakewood, and now, suddenly, he was thrust into the center of attention in the most ridiculous way possible.
As the announcement ended, the hallways buzzed with gossip and speculation. Sunoo pushed himself off the wall and made his way over to where Zhang Hao was standing, the two of them sharing a look of mutual disbelief.
“I didn’t even want to be in this stupid pageant,” Sunoo complained, crossing his arms. “Who thought this was a good idea?”
“Probably someone with a twisted sense of humor,” Zhang Hao replied dryly. “Or someone who’s determined to make my life as inconvenient as possible.”
“Great,” Sunoo sighed. “Guess we’re in this together, then.”
“Yeah,” Zhang Hao agreed, though he didn’t sound particularly thrilled about it. “Just our luck.”
The two of them exchanged a glance, each silently vowing to survive this absurd ordeal with as much dignity as possible—or at least, without completely losing their minds in the process. The Prince of the Lake pageant, the town’s centennial, a carnival, and a murderer on the loose—what could possibly go wrong?
======================================================
As the announcement about the pageant contestants faded from the PA system, Zhang Hao turned to Sunoo with a half-hearted shrug. "So, I was thinking," he began, trying to keep things light despite the absurdity of the situation, "I’ll just go with a brokedown Prince Aladdin look for this thing. You know, keep it simple."
Sunoo stopped in his tracks and gave Zhang Hao a look that could freeze over hell. "You’re kidding, right? We don’t have time for this foolishness, Zhang Hao."
Zhang Hao blinked, taken aback by the sudden intensity in Sunoo’s voice. "Uh, what’s wrong with Aladdin? It’s classic."
“Classic? Sure,” Sunoo shot back, already pulling out his phone to check the time. “But this isn’t Halloween, it’s a pageant. You can’t just roll up looking like you’re auditioning for a knockoff Disney musical.”
Zhang Hao looked down at his current outfit, which was already a questionable mix of streetwear and something that might have belonged in an early 2000s boy band. "I mean, it’s not like I’m actually going to win. I don’t even want to be in this thing."
"That’s not the point," Sunoo huffed, barely containing his exasperation. "If we’re going to be dragged into this ridiculous pageant, we’re at least going to look good doing it. And that means you need a makeover, like, yesterday."
Zhang Hao opened his mouth to argue, but Sunoo had already grabbed his arm and was dragging him down the hallway. "Come on, Zhang Hao. It’s makeover o’clock, and you’re already ten minutes late."
"Makeover o’clock?" Zhang Hao echoed, half in disbelief and half amused. "Is that even a real thing?"
"It is now," Sunoo said firmly, not slowing down. "You’re going to thank me later when you’re not standing on that stage looking like a sad, lost prince. We’re aiming for something more... regal."
Zhang Hao sighed but let himself be pulled along. He had to admit, Sunoo’s determination was kind of impressive. "Okay, fine. But just so you know, I’m not wearing anything with sequins."
"No sequins," Sunoo agreed, though his mind was already racing with possibilities. "But you’re not going to recognize yourself by the time I’m done with you."
"That’s what I’m afraid of," Zhang Hao muttered, but he couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face. If he was going to be stuck in this pageant, he might as well go along with Sunoo’s plan. Besides, if anyone could pull off a miraculous transformation, it was Sunoo.
As they rounded the corner to the school’s fashion clubroom, Zhang Hao took a deep breath. "Okay, let’s do this. Just... go easy on me, alright?"
"No promises," Sunoo said with a grin, already envisioning the end result. "But I’ll make sure you look like a million bucks."
And with that, the impromptu makeover session began, with Zhang Hao mentally bracing himself for whatever Sunoo had in store.
======================================================
Sheriff Jiwoong stood in the doorway of Leehan’s room, his gaze steely and cold. The room was a mess—papers, books, and clothes strewn everywhere from Jiwoong’s earlier search. He’d ripped the place apart, leaving no drawer unopened, no closet unchecked. But the one thing he was looking for was nowhere to be found.
Leehan sat on the edge of his bed, arms crossed, watching his father with a dispassionate expression. His silence only fueled Jiwoong’s anger, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife.
"Where is it, Leehan?" Jiwoong demanded, his voice barely controlled. "Where’s the mask?"
Leehan shrugged, his demeanor infuriatingly casual. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."
"Don’t play games with me!" Jiwoong snapped, stepping closer, his fists clenched. "I know you have it. And I know what you did in Arizona."
Leehan’s eyes flickered at the mention of Arizona, but his expression remained unreadable. "You know what I did, huh? Then prove it, Dad."
The challenge in Leehan’s voice was unmistakable, and it made Jiwoong’s blood boil. He could feel his control slipping, the line between father and sheriff blurring. "You think this is a joke? You think I won’t find out what you’ve been up to? What kind of monster you’ve become?"
Leehan leaned back, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Monster? You say that like it’s news. But I think you’re the one who taught me that, didn’t you? Back in Arizona? Or do you not remember?"
Jiwoong’s jaw tightened, the mention of Arizona twisting the knife deeper. "Don’t turn this around on me. This is about you, Leehan. The violence, the secrets—this isn’t just teenage rebellion. It’s something darker."
Leehan tilted his head, feigning curiosity. "Darker? Like what? Like the fact that you’re terrified of what you see in me? Because it reminds you of yourself?"
The words hit Jiwoong like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, he couldn’t respond. He wanted to deny it, to tell Leehan he was nothing like him, but the truth was too close, too raw.
"You don’t know anything about me," Jiwoong finally said, his voice low and dangerous. "And you sure as hell don’t know what I’m capable of. So, if you think you can keep this up, that you can keep hiding from me, you’re wrong."
Leehan’s smirk faded, and he met his father’s gaze with a cold, defiant stare. "Then prove it, Dad. Prove that you’re better than me. But until then, I think we’re done here."
Jiwoong’s hand twitched, as if he was moments away from lashing out, but he forced himself to stay still. The tension between them was palpable, a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.
"Don’t test me, Leehan," Jiwoong warned, his voice tight with barely restrained fury. "Because when I find out the truth, and I will find out, you’ll wish you never pushed me."
Leehan didn’t respond, his silence speaking volumes. He watched as his father turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.
As the sound echoed through the house, Leehan remained seated, his expression unreadable. But beneath the surface, a storm was brewing, one that threatened to tear everything apart.
======================================================
Soobin stood nervously on Yeonjun’s porch, shifting from foot to foot as he waited for the door to open. The evening air was cool, the sun setting behind the hills casting long shadows over the neighborhood. Finally, the door creaked open, revealing Yeonjun standing there with a guarded expression.
"Soobin," Yeonjun said, his voice flat.
"Hey," Soobin replied, offering a hesitant smile. "Can we talk?"
Yeonjun stepped aside, allowing Soobin to enter. The house was quiet, the kind of silence that felt heavy, almost oppressive. They made their way to the living room, sitting down on opposite ends of the couch, a noticeable distance between them.
"So," Yeonjun began, breaking the silence. "What’s this about?"
Soobin took a deep breath, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. "I... I wanted to explain. About everything that happened. About why I—why I told the Sheriff about Sunghoon's phone."
Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned back, crossing his arms. "Go on."
Soobin swallowed hard, searching for the right words. "I wasn’t trying to get you in trouble, Yeonjun. I was trying to protect you."
Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, skepticism clear in his expression. "Protect me? By ratting me out to the Sheriff? That doesn’t make any sense, Soobin."
"I know it doesn’t," Soobin admitted, his voice tinged with desperation. "But I was scared, okay? I didn’t know what else to do. I thought if the authorities got involved, if they knew about the phone, maybe they could... I don’t know, keep you safe. I just didn’t want you to be the next target."
Yeonjun’s gaze softened slightly, but he didn’t uncross his arms. "So you thought the best way to keep me safe was to make me look guilty? Do you know how that makes me feel? Like you don’t trust me."
"It’s not that I don’t trust you," Soobin said quickly, leaning forward. "It’s just... I don’t trust anyone else around you. I was trying to keep you out of harm’s way, even if it meant you’d be angry with me. I thought it was worth it if it meant you’d be okay."
Yeonjun sighed, rubbing his temples. "Soobin, you can’t just go around making decisions for me like that. I get that you’re worried, but I’m not some fragile thing that needs to be protected. I need to be able to trust you, to know that you’re on my side, not working behind my back."
"I am on your side," Soobin insisted, his voice trembling slightly. "I’m always on your side, Yeonjun. I just... I don’t want to lose you. Not like this. Not to some psycho killer who’s targeting everyone around us."
Yeonjun finally uncrossed his arms, his expression softening. He could see the fear in Soobin’s eyes, the genuine concern that had driven him to make such a rash decision. "I know you’re scared," he said quietly. "I’m scared too. But we have to trust each other. We can’t let fear drive a wedge between us."
Soobin nodded, his eyes glistening. "You’re right. I’m sorry. I just... I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you."
"Nothing’s going to happen to me," Yeonjun said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "But if we’re going to get through this, we need to be a team. No more secrets, no more trying to handle things on our own."
"Okay," Soobin agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. "No more secrets."
There was a long pause as they both absorbed the weight of their conversation. Finally, Yeonjun scooted closer, closing the distance between them. "We’ll figure this out together," he said softly. "But you have to promise me something."
"What?" Soobin asked, his voice tentative.
"Promise me you’ll talk to me before you do something like this again," Yeonjun said, his tone serious. "I need to know we’re on the same page."
"I promise," Soobin replied, his voice steady.
Yeonjun nodded, and for the first time that evening, he offered Soobin a small smile. "Good. Now, let’s just try to get through this together, okay?"
Soobin smiled back, a sense of relief washing over him. "Together."
======================================================
Backstage at the beauty pageant, the atmosphere was a flurry of activity. Contestants and their entourages were bustling around, the air filled with the hum of excitement and nervous energy. Sunoo was in the midst of this chaos, meticulously adjusting Zhang Hao’s outfit.
“Hold still, Zhang Hao,” Sunoo instructed, his hands deftly straightening the collar of Zhang Hao's sleek, dark blue suit. “You need to look like a pageant king, not a Disney character.”
Zhang Hao, now looking far less like his previous “Prince Aladdin” getup and more like a polished contestant, grinned sheepishly. “Thanks, Sunoo. I’m starting to think you missed your calling as a fashion designer.”
“I’d rather not be caught dead in one of these pageant gowns,” Sunoo joked, rolling his eyes as he adjusted Zhang Hao’s bowtie. “I’m just here to make sure you don’t embarrass yourself. Or me.”
Nearby, Jaehyun was making his way through the backstage area, carrying a vibrant bouquet of cotton candy flowers. His suit and tie were immaculate, a sharp contrast to his usual laid-back style. As he approached, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Zhang Hao, who was now looking exceptionally dapper.
“Looking sharp, Zhang Hao,” Jaehyun said, handing over the bouquet. “Here’s your escort gear.”
Zhang Hao accepted the flowers with a smile, his eyes twinkling with gratitude. “Thanks, Jaehyun. You didn’t have to go all out like this.”
Jaehyun shrugged, his grin widening. “Figured you needed a little extra flair. And besides, I couldn’t resist the cotton candy flowers. They’re a hit.”
Sunoo chuckled, stepping back to admire their work. “Well, you certainly know how to make an impression.”
Zhang Hao’s nerves seemed to ease a bit with Jaehyun’s support. “I guess I owe you both big time for this.”
“Just don’t trip over your own feet out there,” Sunoo teased. “We’ll all be watching.”
Jaehyun laughed, clapping Zhang Hao on the shoulder. “And remember, smile! You’re the star of the show.”
The sound of the pageant’s announcer calling for the contestants to line up filtered through the backstage area, signaling that it was almost time for the show to begin. Sunoo gave Zhang Hao one last reassuring nod before the contestants started making their way toward the stage.
“You’ve got this,” Sunoo said, his voice firm but encouraging.
“Yeah,” Zhang Hao replied, his confidence bolstered by his friends’ support. “Thanks, guys. I’ll make sure not to let you down.”
As Zhang Hao joined the line of contestants, Jaehyun and Sunoo watched from the wings, their faces reflecting a mixture of pride and anticipation. The pageant was about to start, and with Zhang Hao looking his best, they were all hopeful for a great performance.
======================================================
Outside the carnival, the lights twinkled and the laughter of children blended with the distant sound of carnival rides. The festive atmosphere was sharply contrasted by the tension between Jiung and Yeonjun, who stood off to the side near a cotton candy stand.
“I don’t get it, Yeonjun,” Jiung said, his voice tinged with frustration. “Why are you so caught up in this whole mess? What did the Sheriff tell you?”
Yeonjun, visibly uncomfortable, shifted his weight. “It’s not really your business, Jiung. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Jiung's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer. “You can’t just ignore it. If there’s something you’re not telling me—”
Before Jiung could finish, Soobin appeared out of nowhere, his face set in a furious expression. He stormed up to Jiung and, without a word, landed a solid punch to Jiung’s face. Jiung staggered back, stunned.
“Hey!” Jiung shouted, touching his bleeding lip. “What the hell—”
Soobin didn’t let up. He followed up with a series of punches, his anger driving each strike. “Stop bothering Yeonjun! You’ve been pushing him too far!”
Yeonjun watched in a mix of shock and relief as Soobin’s blows landed. He wasn’t sure how to react, but seeing Soobin so fiercely protective of him was unexpected.
“Stop it!” Yeonjun finally shouted, grabbing Soobin’s arm to pull him away. “This isn’t helping!”
Soobin, breathing heavily, glared at Jiung. “I’m done with you making things harder for Yeonjun. Get out of here.”
Jiung, now bleeding and bruised, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his expression a mixture of anger and disbelief. “You think this solves anything? I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on!”
“You’ve done enough,” Soobin snapped, stepping between Jiung and Yeonjun. “Leave.”
Jiung hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting between Soobin and Yeonjun. Realizing he wasn’t going to get anywhere, he turned and walked away, his face a grimace of pain and frustration.
As Jiung disappeared into the crowd, Soobin turned to Yeonjun, his anger now replaced by concern. “Are you okay?”
Yeonjun nodded, still processing the encounter. “Yeah. Thanks, Soobin. I didn’t expect that.”
Soobin’s expression softened. “I just don’t want you dealing with more than you have to. Let’s go back inside and get away from this mess for a while.”
Together, they re-entered the carnival, trying to leave behind the confrontation and find some semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos.
======================================================
The spotlight blazed brightly on the stage as Zhang Hao wrapped up his speech, a mix of applause and murmured comments echoing through the crowd. His words about small-town charm had been met with polite, if somewhat lukewarm, reception. The crowd shifted in their seats, anticipating the next speaker. Sunoo, however, was far from the usual calm contestant.
In the backstage area, Sunoo clutched his flask, taking swigs with a determined glint in his eyes. “I’ve got somethin’ to say!” he declared, his voice slightly slurred. With a burst of energy, he stumbled towards the stage, practically bursting through the curtains.
The audience murmured in surprise as Sunoo grabbed the microphone with an unsteady grip. His speech began, erratic but passionate.
“Hello, everybody!” Sunoo’s voice rang out, loud and clear. “So, I’ve been thinkin’. This town—this whole town—ain’t nothin’ but a big ol’ mess! We got people gettin’ murdered left and right, and what’s bein’ done about it? Nothin’! And y’know what? It’s like we’re all just sittin’ here in a dreamless sleep, pretendin’ everything’s fine!”
The crowd looked around in confusion, some faces reflecting shock while others showed concern. Soobin, watching from the side, stepped forward with a worried expression.
“Sunoo, maybe you should—” he began, but Sunoo was already on a roll.
“And another thing!” Sunoo continued, his speech gaining momentum despite his apparent intoxication. “Everyone’s just goin’ about their lives, actin’ like these murders don’t matter! But they do! We’re all just dummies, waitin’ for the next tragedy to hit!”
The murmurs grew louder, a mix of astonishment and embarrassment rippling through the crowd. Zhang Hao, standing nearby, gave Soobin a worried look.
“Do you think we should stop him?” Zhang Hao asked, his eyes wide.
Before Soobin could respond, Sunoo’s rant took a philosophical turn. “Death, y’all. Death’s just a dreamless sleep. That’s all it is. We’re all just waitin’ for it, actin’ like it’s some big mystery when really, it’s just the end of the line.”
Sunoo’s voice trailed off as he swayed slightly, his message delivered with a dramatic finality. He dropped the microphone, his face flushed and expression defiant. The crowd was silent, a mix of stunned and uneasy as Sunoo stumbled off the stage.
As he exited, Soobin rushed to his side. “Sunoo, come on. Let’s get you out of here.”
Sunoo looked at Soobin with bleary eyes. “I had to say it. Somebody’s gotta say it.”
“Yeah, but maybe not while drunk on stage,” Soobin replied, guiding him away from the spotlight.
The beauty pageant, once again, found itself in the midst of chaos, with Sunoo’s unexpected outburst leaving the audience with more questions than answers. The carnival’s celebratory atmosphere had shifted, leaving behind an air of confusion and discomfort as Soobin led Sunoo away, hoping to salvage what remained of the night.
======================================================
At the Sheriff’s station, the fluorescent lights flickered overhead as Jiwoong pored over case files, the day’s chaos settling into a dull throb of exhaustion. The station’s atmosphere was tense, the recent murder spree casting a shadow over every corner.
Tiffany walked in, her medical examiner badge hanging from her neck. “Sheriff Jiwoong,” she greeted him, her tone a mix of professional detachment and underlying concern. “I’ve completed the preliminary examination of Jay’s body.”
Jiwoong looked up from his desk, rubbing his temples. “What did you find?”
Tiffany took a deep breath, her face serious. “Jay’s hand was sawed off before he was burned alive. It wasn’t just a random act of violence—it was premeditated. The hand was severed with precision. This wasn’t an impulsive act; it was planned.”
Jiwoong’s brows furrowed in concern. “That’s troubling. Why would someone go to such lengths? And what about the other evidence?”
Tiffany nodded. “There’s more. I remember seeing something about this in Leehan’s drawings. A few weeks ago, he had this disturbing sketch—a figure handcuffed to a bed, with a severed hand next to it. It was unsettling, but I didn’t think much of it at the time.”
Jiwoong’s eyes widened slightly. “Leehan? That’s... concerning. Do you still have access to his tablet?”
Tiffany nodded. “Yes, I do. I’ll check his recent drawings and see if there’s anything else that stands out.”
Jiwoong leaned back in his chair, the gears in his mind turning. “Leehan’s drawings have been troubling for a while. If he’s connected to these murders in any way... we need to investigate further.”
Tiffany’s eyes met Jiwoong’s, a grim determination in her gaze. “I’ll get on it right away. We need to confirm if Leehan’s involved or if there’s another connection we’re missing.”
Jiwoong stood up, pacing the room as he tried to piece together the clues. “This could change everything. We need to act fast before the killer gets any closer to their next target.”
Tiffany nodded and headed out of the office, her mind already racing through the implications of the new evidence. Jiwoong watched her go, his expression a mix of worry and resolve. The case had taken another dark turn, and the answers they sought seemed to be slipping further out of reach.
======================================================
Yeonjun stood near the carnival's Ferris wheel, his attention divided between the dazzling lights of the rides and the growing number of missed calls on his phone. His heart raced as he saw the incoming call—“Soobin” was flashing on the screen. He quickly answered, hoping for a familiar voice.
“Hey, Soobin!” Yeonjun greeted, but the voice that came through was heavily distorted, sounding like it had been filtered through a vocoder.
“Yeonjun...” the voice crackled. “I—”
The call was abruptly cut off, and Yeonjun was left staring at the screen in confusion. His hands trembled as he noticed a new message notification. He opened it, revealing a video that made his blood run cold.
In the video, Soobin was bound with duct tape, his eyes wide with fear as he struggled against his restraints. The tape covered his mouth, rendering him silent. Yeonjun’s heart pounded harder as he watched.
A new text from the same unknown number appeared: “Find Soobin before it’s too late.”
Yeonjun’s eyes widened in horror, the gravity of the situation sinking in. He quickly scanned the carnival, searching for any sign of Soobin or the killer. He ran toward the nearest security booth, hoping to get some assistance.
“Help! I need help!” Yeonjun shouted, his voice urgent and panicked.
The security guard looked up, startled. “What’s going on?”
“There’s a video,” Yeonjun explained breathlessly, showing the guard his phone. “Soobin—he’s in trouble. Someone’s threatening him. We need to find him!”
The guard’s face turned serious as he took in the video. “Alright, I’ll call this in. We’ll get a search team out here immediately.”
Yeonjun nodded, his mind racing. He turned away from the booth, desperately trying to think of where Soobin could be hidden. His thoughts were a jumble of fear and determination as he navigated through the carnival, hoping against hope that he would find Soobin before it was too late.
As he rushed past the carnival rides and stalls, he glanced around, hoping to spot anything out of place. Every corner seemed to hold a new shadow, every sound a potential clue. The night was alive with laughter and music, but for Yeonjun, it was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread.
======================================================
Yeonjun's heart hammered in his chest as he burst into the nightmarish funhouse. The kaleidoscope of blacklights cast eerie, shifting shadows on the walls, and the distorted mirrors seemed to warp reality itself. The cacophony of carnival music mixed with unsettling funhouse laughter, creating a disorienting symphony that made Yeonjun’s head spin.
He moved quickly through the maze of mirrors and strange, warped funhouse structures, desperately searching for Soobin. Every turn seemed to bring him face-to-face with grotesque reflections and disorienting illusions. His anxiety only grew as he heard the echoing footsteps of the killer pursuing him.
“SOOBIN!” Yeonjun shouted, his voice trembling as he navigated the maze. His breath came in ragged gasps, and he nearly collided with a spinning wall of colors.
Just then, Yeonjun rounded a corner and nearly stumbled over the body of a police officer, who was lying unconscious, his uniform torn and bloodied. Yeonjun’s eyes widened in shock. The killer had attacked a cop. In a flash, he noticed the officer's gun lying a few feet away.
With a surge of adrenaline, Yeonjun grabbed the gun, his hands shaking as he fumbled with it. He could hear the killer’s footsteps growing louder, drawing closer. He raised the weapon, trying to steady his trembling hands.
“Stay back!” Yeonjun yelled, his voice echoing through the funhouse. “I’ll shoot!”
The killer's voice, distorted and chilling, came from the darkness. “You think a gun is going to save you, Yeonjun?”
Yeonjun’s eyes darted around, trying to catch sight of the killer amidst the shifting shadows. He stumbled backward, the gun still pointed in front of him. His mind raced, trying to remember how to handle the weapon.
Suddenly, the killer lunged from the darkness, and Yeonjun fired blindly, the gunshot ringing out through the funhouse. The bullet narrowly missed the killer, who swiftly ducked behind a warped mirror.
Yeonjun’s breathing was heavy, and his grip on the gun was unsteady. He moved cautiously, stepping over the fallen officer, and continued through the twisting corridors of the funhouse. The thrill of the carnival outside seemed worlds away compared to the nightmare within.
Outside, the carnival was in chaos. The flashing lights of police cars and the distant wail of sirens added to the already frenzied atmosphere. The funhouse, now a focal point of the scene, was bathed in a harsh, flickering light.
Suddenly, the front doors of the funhouse burst open, and the killer’s mask, now smeared with blood and grime, was visible through the haze of confusion. The figure that emerged, flailing their arms in a frantic manner, was immediately recognized as the killer—or so it seemed.
Yeonjun, adrenaline still pumping, sprinted out of the funhouse, his gun raised and his heart pounding. He locked eyes with the figure in the killer’s mask and aimed carefully, his hand steady despite the turmoil.
“Stop right there!” Yeonjun shouted, his voice echoing in the night. “Don’t move!”
The masked figure stumbled, waving their hands as if pleading for mercy. Yeonjun’s mind raced with fear and resolve. This was it—he had to end this now. He took a deep breath, aimed at the masked figure’s head, and fired.
The shot rang out, piercing the night air. The figure in the mask fell to the ground, and Yeonjun rushed forward, ready to confront the killer. As he approached, he noticed the figure was unmoving, but something was off. His heart sank as the mask was slowly peeled away.
“Please… just don’t…” the figure pleaded weakly, their voice trembling.
Yeonjun’s eyes widened in shock. The mask came off, revealing Soobin’s tear-streaked face.
“Soobin?!” Yeonjun gasped, his voice trembling with disbelief. “No way…”
Soobin looked up at Yeonjun, his eyes filled with fear and confusion. “Yeonjun, I swear… I’ve been framed! I don’t know how this happened!”
Yeonjun’s hand shook as he lowered the gun, his mind struggling to process the sight before him. The realization hit him hard, and the weight of the moment nearly overwhelmed him. Soobin was not the killer—he had been set up.
The police, who had been watching from a distance, rushed in, surrounding Soobin and Yeonjun. Sheriff Jiwoong, having witnessed the entire confrontation, approached with a stern expression.
“Yeonjun, what’s going on here?” Jiwoong demanded, his voice edged with authority.
“I… I thought Soobin was the killer,” Yeonjun stammered, his gaze shifting between Soobin and the Sheriff. “He was wearing the mask, and I thought he was about to hurt someone else.”
Soobin looked up at the Sheriff with desperation. “Sheriff Jiwoong, you have to believe me. I didn’t do this! Someone’s trying to frame me, and I don’t know who or why!”
The Sheriff’s expression softened slightly, though his skepticism remained. “Alright, Soobin. We’ll take you in for questioning and sort this out. But I need to understand how you ended up in that mask.”
As Soobin was escorted away by the officers, Yeonjun felt a pang of guilt and confusion. He had acted on fear, and now he was left grappling with the consequences. The realization that Soobin was innocent, and the true killer was still out there, made the situation even more unsettling.
Yeonjun took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing thoughts. The night was far from over, and the fight to uncover the real killer had just begun. As the police worked to secure the scene and investigate the new developments, Yeonjun knew that the nightmare was far from over. The carnival’s lights flickered in the distance, a stark reminder of the chaos that had unfolded and the truth that still needed to be uncovered.
======================================================
Jaehyun and Zhang Hao had finally returned to Jaehyun's house, the night’s chaotic events still fresh in their minds. They were both shaken, but a shared sense of intimacy and vulnerability had brought them together. They decided to retreat to Jaehyun’s bedroom, hoping to find some solace in each other’s company.
The room was dimly lit, and the tension between them was palpable. Zhang Hao looked at Jaehyun with a mix of desire and concern, his nerves frayed by the evening's drama. They started to kiss, their movements growing more intense as they sought comfort in their connection.
Just as things were beginning to heat up, Jaehyun's phone buzzed on the nightstand. The screen lit up with Beomgyu's name.
“Ugh, seriously?” Zhang Hao muttered, his enthusiasm visibly dampened. “Can’t you just turn it off?”
Jaehyun hesitated, looking at the phone with a conflicted expression. “It might be important.”
Before he could make a decision, the phone rang again, this time with Beomgyu’s name flashing insistently. Zhang Hao’s face twisted with frustration. He let out a sigh and sat up, clearly agitated.
“I really can’t do this with interruptions,” Zhang Hao said, throwing on his clothes with impressive speed. “I’ll just… I’ll leave.”
He darted out of the room with the agility of someone escaping a dangerous situation, leaving Jaehyun alone with the ringing phone. Jaehyun tried to catch him but stopped short, realizing the moment was already lost.
“Zhang Hao, wait—” Jaehyun called out, but Zhang Hao was already halfway down the hallway.
Jaehyun picked up the phone, glancing at the caller ID. “Hey, Beomgyu. What’s up?”
On the other end of the line, Beomgyu’s voice was filled with urgency and worry. “Jaehyun, are you alright? I need to talk to you about something important. It’s about Sunoo and the whole mess with Soobin.”
Jaehyun’s heart sank as he listened to Beomgyu’s words. The intensity of the conversation made it clear that the situation was far from resolved, and any chance of rekindling the moment with Zhang Hao had slipped away.
“Yeah, I’m here,” Jaehyun replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “What’s going on?”
As Beomgyu started explaining the latest developments, Jaehyun sat on the edge of the bed, his mind racing. The night’s events had taken a toll on him, and the unexpected call had thrown him further off balance. With Zhang Hao gone and the weight of the conversation pressing down on him, Jaehyun felt a mix of frustration and helplessness.
As he listened to Beomgyu, Jaehyun’s thoughts drifted back to the chaos of the carnival and the unsettling realization that the nightmare was far from over.
======================================================
The night was quiet, with the moon casting a gentle glow through the window of Sunoo's bedroom. Sunoo lay in his bed, feeling the weight of the day’s events. The stress and trauma had taken a toll on him, and he needed comfort more than anything else.
Leehan, who had agreed to stay over, was sprawled out on the floor with a pillow and blanket. He’d been a surprisingly comforting presence, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos that surrounded them. As Sunoo shifted uncomfortably in bed, he glanced over at Leehan and hesitated.
“Hey, Leehan,” Sunoo called softly, “are you still awake?”
Leehan looked up from his makeshift bed, meeting Sunoo’s gaze with a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m still awake. What’s up?”
Sunoo sighed and sat up, rubbing his eyes. “I just… I don’t know. I can’t sleep. I’ve been thinking about everything that’s happened, and it’s kind of messing with my head.”
Leehan nodded, understanding. He got up and walked over to Sunoo’s bed, sitting down beside him. “You know, it’s okay to feel that way. It’s been a really tough time for all of us. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”
Sunoo appreciated the gesture. “Thanks, Leehan. I just need someone to be here with me right now. Can you… just stay with me for a bit? I’m not really in the mood for anything more, just… I don’t want to be alone.”
Leehan shifted closer and nodded. “Of course. I’m here for you.”
They both settled into a comfortable position, Sunoo leaning against the headboard while Leehan sat beside him. Sunoo was grateful for the company, finding solace in the simple act of having someone by his side. They didn’t talk much, letting the silence between them be a soothing balm to their frayed nerves.
As Sunoo relaxed, he found himself feeling more at ease. Leehan’s presence was calming, and the gentle rhythm of his breathing helped to steady Sunoo’s own. It wasn’t a romantic moment, but it was a comforting one, a reminder that even in the midst of all the turmoil, he wasn’t alone.
Leehan glanced at Sunoo, noticing the way he seemed to be settling into a more peaceful state. “You doing okay?”
Sunoo gave a small, grateful smile. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for being here. It really helps.”
Leehan nodded, a soft smile on his face. “Anytime. We’re all in this together.”
The night continued quietly, with the two of them finding comfort in each other’s presence. As Sunoo finally began to drift off, the weight of his worries seemed a little lighter, thanks to Leehan’s simple act of support.
======================================================
Beomgyu paced nervously outside Yeonjun’s house, clutching his phone tightly. He had decided it was time to come clean about his involvement with Hanbin. The weight of the secret had been eating at him, and he wanted to be honest with Yeonjun, hoping to clear the air between them. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.
Yeonjun opened it, his face lighting up with a tired but genuine smile. “Hey, Beomgyu. What’s up?”
“Hey, Yeonjun. Can I come in? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Sure, come on in,” Yeonjun said, stepping aside to let Beomgyu enter.
They made their way to the living room, where Yeonjun motioned for Beomgyu to take a seat. Beomgyu sat down, his nerves evident in the way his fingers fidgeted with his phone. Yeonjun took a seat across from him, sensing the tension in the air.
“So, what’s this about?” Yeonjun asked, his curiosity piqued.
Beomgyu swallowed hard, trying to steady his voice. “I… I need to tell you something about Hanbin. I was involved with him, and I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. I was trying to protect myself, but it’s been eating at me.”
Yeonjun’s expression shifted from curiosity to confusion. “Beomgyu, I—”
Before Yeonjun could finish his sentence, his phone buzzed on the coffee table. He glanced at it, his face going pale as he saw the notification. The message was from an unknown number, and it contained a video file. With trembling hands, Yeonjun opened the video.
The video showed a recording of Beomgyu confessing to Jaehyun about his connection to Hanbin. The audio was clear, the words unmistakable. Beomgyu’s face fell as he watched himself on screen, realizing that his attempt at honesty had been preempted.
Yeonjun’s eyes met Beomgyu’s, both of them struck silent. The room felt heavy with unspoken words.
“So…” Yeonjun finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I guess someone already knew.”
Beomgyu’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah. Looks like it.”
They sat in silence, the weight of the revelation settling between them. Beomgyu rubbed the back of his neck, trying to process the situation. “I was going to tell you this myself, but…”
“It’s okay,” Yeonjun interrupted softly. “It’s not about how it came out. It’s about what’s next.”
Beomgyu nodded, though his face was still clouded with regret. “I’m sorry, Yeonjun. I didn’t want things to come out like this.”
Yeonjun sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We’ve got bigger problems right now. If someone’s sending these videos around, it means they’re still out there, still trying to play games with us.”
Beomgyu looked at Yeonjun, his expression one of genuine remorse. “I know. And I’m sorry for putting you through this. Let’s figure out what to do next.”
Yeonjun gave a small, appreciative nod. “Agreed. We’ll handle this together.”
The silence between them lingered, but it was now filled with a shared determination. Despite the awkward and painful circ*mstances, they knew they had to confront whatever was coming next.
Chapter 19: The Orphanage
Chapter Text
Yeonjun stumbled down the dimly lit hallway of his house, his breath ragged and his eyes darting nervously. The pounding footsteps behind him grew louder, echoing off the walls like a relentless drum. His heart raced, and he could feel the cold sweat trickling down his back.
"Yeonjun, wait up!" Beomgyu's voice rang out, filled with concern. "We need to talk!"
Sunoo’s urgent tone followed. “Seriously, we’re worried about you. This isn’t right.”
Jaehyun’s voice was more insistent, “Please, just stop. Let us help you.”
But Yeonjun was beyond reason. He skidded to a halt, his hands trembling as he clutched a knife he’d taken from the kitchen. He turned to face his friends, his eyes wild.
“You think you can just barge in here and ‘talk’ to me? Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Yeonjun’s voice was strained, the words barely coherent.
Beomgyu’s eyes widened in horror as he saw the blade in Yeonjun’s hand. “Yeonjun, put the knife down! We just want to help you!”
“Help me?” Yeonjun laughed bitterly, a manic edge in his voice. “Help me by chasing me down? By cornering me like a trapped animal?”
Before Beomgyu could react, Yeonjun lunged forward. The knife glinted in the harsh light as it cut through the air. Beomgyu let out a cry of pain, stumbling backward, clutching at his side.
Sunoo rushed forward, his face a mask of desperation. “Yeonjun, stop! This isn’t you!”
Yeonjun’s eyes flickered with a dark resolve. He sidestepped Sunoo’s attempt to restrain him and twisted the knife in his grip. Sunoo’s gasp of pain was almost immediate, his body collapsing beside Beomgyu’s.
Jaehyun, the last one standing, watched in stunned disbelief. “Yeonjun… why? We’re your friends!”
“I don’t have friends!” Yeonjun shouted back, his voice cracking. “Not anymore!”
He swung the knife toward Jaehyun, who barely had time to react. The blade found its mark, and Jaehyun crumpled to the floor, his body hitting the ground with a sickening thud.
Silence fell over the hallway, broken only by the ragged breathing of Yeonjun and the quiet, agonized groans of his fallen friends. The once lively and supportive group now lay sprawled on the floor, their lives cut short by the very person they sought to save.
Yeonjun stood amidst the chaos, his hands slick with blood, his expression a mix of shock and horror. The knife slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor, joining the growing pool of crimson around him.
The hallway, once a place of camaraderie and friendship, was now a scene of tragedy. Yeonjun sank to his knees, his cries of despair echoing off the walls, blending with the soft whimpers of his wounded friends. The world seemed to close in around him, the weight of his actions pressing down with an unbearable heaviness.
======================================================
Yeonjun's eyes flickered open in the dim light of his bedroom, but he was not fully awake. His limbs moved with a disturbing autonomy, guided by a dream that twisted reality into a nightmarish landscape. The knife, gripped tightly in his hand, glinted menacingly as he wandered through the house, unaware of his surroundings.
In his dream, his friends lay scattered on the floor, their bodies lifeless. The dream's panic gripped him, pushing him forward with a sense of urgency and dread. He turned the corner into the hallway, still clutching the knife as if it were the last anchor in a stormy sea.
Tiffany, awake from a late-night phone call and hearing the muted sounds of distress, had sensed something was wrong. Her heart raced as she followed the sounds of shuffling feet and the low, guttural murmurs from her son. Her footsteps were quick and determined as she reached the hallway, her eyes widening in alarm at the sight before her.
"Yeonjun!" Tiffany called out, her voice trembling but firm. "What are you doing?"
Yeonjun didn’t respond, his gaze unfocused, lost in the haze of his sleepwalking state. He staggered forward, still driven by the nightmare that had gripped him so fiercely.
Tiffany moved with a mix of urgency and caution, her maternal instincts kicking in. She could see the terror in her son's eyes, even though they were glazed over with sleep. “Yeonjun, you’re dreaming! Put the knife down!”
Her words pierced through the fog of his dreamlike state. Slowly, as if waking from a deep slumber, Yeonjun's head turned towards his mother. Confusion and recognition flickered in his eyes, but the nightmarish haze was still heavy.
“Mom?” His voice was hoarse and uncertain. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing, sweetheart. You were sleepwalking,” Tiffany said soothingly as she approached him, her hands shaking slightly. “You’ve got to wake up now. Please, give me the knife.”
Yeonjun looked down at the knife in his hand, its reality crashing over him like a cold wave. The weight of the metal seemed to draw him back to consciousness. He blinked rapidly, his grip loosening as he finally realized what he was holding.
With a gentle but firm movement, Tiffany wrested the knife from Yeonjun's hand, her face etched with a mix of relief and concern. “It’s okay, Yeonjun. You’re safe now.”
Yeonjun’s shoulders sagged, the adrenaline leaving him in a rush of exhaustion. His eyes darted between the knife and his mother, his breath coming in shaky gasps. “I... I didn’t mean to—”
“I know,” Tiffany said softly, pulling him into a tight embrace. “It’s over. You’re okay. Let’s get you back to bed.”
Yeonjun clung to his mother, the images of his dream fading as the warmth of her presence anchored him to reality. They slowly made their way back to his room, Tiffany keeping a close watch on her son. The nightmare was over, but the weight of its reality lingered in the quiet of the night.
As Tiffany helped Yeonjun settle back into bed, she watched him closely, her heart heavy with the fear of what might have happened. She stayed by his side until his breathing steadied, the knife now safely hidden away.
In the quiet aftermath, the house returned to its fragile peace, the night’s chaos replaced by a cautious calm. Yeonjun’s dreams might have been haunting, but for now, he was safe, and Tiffany’s protective vigilance had averted disaster.
======================================================
The morning light streamed through the windows of Yeonjun's room, casting a gentle glow on his weary face. The events of the previous night still weighed heavily on him, and he sat at his desk, staring blankly at the wall. His mother had left for work, and he was alone with his thoughts, the unsettling remnants of his nightmare lingering.
The knock on his door was soft, followed by Soobin’s voice, cheerful but edged with concern. “Hey, Yeonjun, mind if I come in?”
Yeonjun barely acknowledged the knock, his mind preoccupied with a storm of emotions. “Yeah, come in.”
Soobin entered, trying to offer a comforting smile. “I heard you had a rough night. Thought I’d check in and see if you’re okay.”
Yeonjun turned to face him, his eyes shadowed with frustration. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just had a nightmare. Nothing new.”
Soobin sat down on the edge of Yeonjun’s bed, trying to sound casual. “I get it. I’ve been dealing with my own stuff lately, too. It’s been a tough time all around.”
Yeonjun’s gaze hardened. “Oh, really? Like what?”
Soobin hesitated, then shrugged. “Just some personal issues and family stuff. You know how it is. I’m just trying to keep it together.”
Yeonjun’s frustration flared. “You think you’ve got it tough? Try dealing with the nightmares and the constant fear of what’s happening to our friends. I’ve been trying to understand what’s going on, and all I see is chaos.”
Soobin’s expression softened with concern. “I know it’s been rough, Yeonjun. But focusing on the negative won’t help. We need to stay strong for each other.”
Yeonjun’s face tightened with anger. “Strong? You know what really gets to me? Beomgyu’s role in all this. He’s been involved in everything from the start. His actions, his lies… it’s all so messed up.”
Soobin looked taken aback. “Beomgyu? I thought he was just as confused and caught up as we are.”
Yeonjun shook his head, his voice rising. “No, it’s more than that. He’s been hiding things, manipulating situations. And now it’s like everyone’s just accepting him as a victim. I can’t just sit back and let that happen.”
Soobin tried to calm him down, though his own concern was evident. “I understand you’re angry, but acting on those feelings without understanding the whole picture could make things worse.”
Yeonjun’s frustration didn’t waver. “It’s hard to stay calm when it feels like everyone’s falling apart, and no one’s being honest. I don’t know who to trust anymore.”
Soobin sighed, seeing the turmoil in Yeonjun’s eyes. “We need to figure things out together. Let’s not let anger drive us apart. If we’re going to solve this, we have to be united.”
Yeonjun’s shoulders sagged slightly, but the anger remained. “I’m just tired of being in the dark. I need to know what’s real and what’s not. And right now, Beomgyu’s actions feel like a huge part of the problem.”
Soobin nodded, understanding the depth of Yeonjun’s distress. “Alright. I’ll help you figure things out. But let’s promise to keep talking, even when it’s hard.”
Yeonjun’s expression softened a little, though the anger was still there. “Fine. We’ll talk. But I need to start getting some answers, and I need everyone to be honest.”
Soobin stood up, patting Yeonjun on the shoulder. “We’ll get through this, Yeonjun. I promise. We’ll find out what’s really going on.”
As Soobin left the room, Yeonjun was left alone again, his mind racing. The anger and confusion still churned within him, but Soobin’s words lingered, a small glimmer of hope amid the turmoil.
======================================================
The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Sunoo stirred, slowly waking from a deep sleep. The unfamiliar warmth and weight beside him brought him to full consciousness. He turned his head and blinked, his heart skipping a beat as he saw Leehan lying next to him, both of them in their undergarments. The remnants of their night together were clear, and a flush of embarrassment mixed with lingering pleasure washed over him.
Leehan, still half-asleep, yawned and stretched lazily. His hand brushed against Sunoo’s arm, and he murmured, “Good morning…”
Sunoo shifted slightly, trying to process the situation. “Morning…” His voice was hushed, tinged with a mix of uncertainty and lingering affection. “I guess we… didn’t stay fully clothed.”
Leehan’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked at Sunoo with a sleepy smile. “Looks like we didn’t. I’m sorry if I overstepped. I just wanted to be close to you.”
Sunoo felt a twinge of embarrassment but also couldn’t deny the comfort he felt being near Leehan. “It’s not that. It’s just… unexpected. I thought you were just being a human-shaped pillow.”
Leehan chuckled softly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on Sunoo’s skin. “Well, I started off as that. But then things… kind of evolved.”
Sunoo’s cheeks flushed slightly. “Yeah, they did. It was… intense.”
Leehan’s smile grew warmer as he propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze steady on Sunoo. “I hope it was okay. I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”
Sunoo met his gaze, his expression softening. “It wasn’t awkward. It was just… a lot. I didn’t expect things to go this far.”
Leehan nodded, his tone sincere. “I understand. I really do like you, Sunoo. I didn’t want to rush things or make you uncomfortable.”
Sunoo’s gaze dropped to the bedcovers, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I like you too. But we should talk about this. What does this mean for us?”
Leehan’s hand found Sunoo’s, gently squeezing it. “I’m willing to talk about it. I think we both need to be clear about what we want and how we move forward.”
Sunoo looked back at Leehan, a mixture of vulnerability and hope in his eyes. “Yeah. Let’s talk. I want to understand where we stand.”
Leehan nodded, his expression earnest. “Absolutely. We’ll figure it out together.”
As the morning light continued to stream into the room, Sunoo and Leehan began to talk, their conversation weaving through the complexities of their feelings and the unexpected turn their relationship had taken. The warmth of the morning and the closeness they shared created a gentle space for honest discussion and understanding.
======================================================
The corridors of the high school buzzed with the usual morning activity. Students chatted animatedly, their voices a low hum that filled the air. Jaehyun walked to his locker, lost in thought, when Yeonjun and Soobin approached him with determined expressions.
“Jaehyun, we need to talk,” Yeonjun said abruptly, his tone sharp.
Soobin nodded in agreement, his face set in a serious line. “We’re not happy about this whole situation with Beomgyu.”
Jaehyun looked up, slightly taken aback by their intensity. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”
“You know what I mean,” Yeonjun snapped. “You found out about Beomgyu’s involvement and didn’t say a word. Why?”
Jaehyun’s expression tightened, a mix of frustration and defensiveness crossing his face. “I didn’t think it was the right time to cause more panic. I was trying to gather more information first.”
Soobin stepped closer, his voice firm. “Gathering information is one thing, but keeping it from us is another. We needed to know. You should have told us immediately.”
Jaehyun’s eyes flashed with irritation. “I was trying to protect everyone. If I had told you right away, it might have led to chaos. I wanted to be sure before causing more distress.”
Yeonjun shook his head, his anger evident. “We’re already in chaos. Keeping this from us only made things worse. We could have handled it together.”
Jaehyun sighed heavily, his frustration showing. “I didn’t think it would come to this. I thought I could handle it on my own and keep everyone safe.”
Soobin crossed his arms, his voice remaining steady. “Keeping secrets in this situation doesn’t help. We’re all in this together, and we need to be honest with each other. We’re all trying to figure out what’s going on, and we need to trust one another.”
Jaehyun’s shoulders slumped slightly, his defensiveness giving way to a hint of remorse. “Okay, I get it. I should have been more transparent. I just thought… I don’t know, that I was doing the right thing.”
Yeonjun’s expression softened a bit, though the frustration lingered. “We need to work as a team. Keeping things from each other only creates more problems. We need to be united, especially now.”
Jaehyun nodded, looking genuinely apologetic. “You’re right. I should have handled it differently. I’m sorry for not being upfront. I’ll do better.”
Soobin’s gaze was more understanding now, though still firm. “Good. We need to move forward and make sure we’re all on the same page. We’ve got enough to deal with without adding trust issues into the mix.”
Yeonjun nodded, a sense of resolution settling in. “Alright. Let’s focus on what we can do next. We need to figure out our next steps and make sure we’re all involved.”
As the three of them stood in the bustling hallway, the tension slowly eased. The confrontation had been necessary, and though the path forward was uncertain, they knew that honesty and teamwork would be crucial in the days ahead.
======================================================
The school day dragged on for Yeonjun, the weight of his recent arguments and the gnawing sense of distrust hanging heavy on him. As he reached his locker, he noticed something strange—a microcassette tape, dangling from a lock of human hair tied with a piece of string. He frowned, his curiosity piqued and unease settling in his stomach.
He fished the tape out carefully, holding it up to examine it. The label read "Sooyoung" in neat handwriting. Yeonjun’s heart sank as he realized it belonged to their high school psychology teacher. With a mix of dread and determination, he decided to confront the tape's contents. He found Soobin waiting for him outside the school gates, and they headed to a quiet spot near the park.
“Hey, Soobin, I found something weird in my locker,” Yeonjun said, holding up the tape. “It’s from Sooyoung, the psychology teacher.”
Soobin’s eyes widened with concern. “What’s on it?”
“I haven’t listened to it yet,” Yeonjun said, his voice tinged with apprehension. “I thought I’d wait until you could come with me.”
They found a secluded bench in the park, and Yeonjun set up the old tape recorder he’d borrowed from his dad. As he pressed play, the scratchy sound of the tape filled the air, and Soobin leaned in, his expression serious.
The tape crackled and a familiar voice emerged. It was Sooyoung’s. “I’m really concerned about Yeonjun. He’s been acting increasingly erratic, and I’m starting to think he might be involved in all this chaos. His behavior seems suspicious, and he might be the killer.”
Yeonjun’s face paled as he listened, his hands shaking slightly. The recording continued, Sooyoung’s voice detailing her observations and suspicions about him. Each word felt like a piercing accusation.
Soobin’s expression grew increasingly troubled as he listened. “Yeonjun, I’m so sorry. This is awful.”
When the tape ended, Yeonjun sat in stunned silence, the hurt clearly visible on his face. “I can’t believe she thinks that of me. After everything we’ve been through, for her to say something like this… It’s just…”
Soobin placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know it’s painful to hear. But remember, it’s just her opinion. You know you’re not like that. We all do.”
Yeonjun’s eyes were filled with a mix of anger and sadness. “But why would she think that? I’ve been trying so hard to get to the bottom of things, to help, and now she thinks I’m the psycho?”
Soobin’s voice was steady and reassuring. “Sometimes people misjudge others based on their fears or misunderstandings. This doesn’t change who you are or what you’ve been trying to do. We need to focus on proving your innocence and finding out why she felt this way.”
Yeonjun took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. “You’re right. I can’t let this get to me. I need to show everyone that I’m not the person she thinks I am.”
Soobin nodded, his support unwavering. “We’ll figure this out together. You’re not alone in this. We’ll get to the truth and clear your name.”
Yeonjun managed a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Soobin. I really appreciate you being here.”
As they sat together in the park, the pain from the tape was still fresh, but Soobin’s presence and support provided a glimmer of hope. Together, they knew they had to keep moving forward, no matter how challenging the path ahead might be.
======================================================
Jaehyun sat at his desk, a frown etched deeply on his face as he scrolled through his computer’s “sent items” folder. He had been digging through the logs and emails in an attempt to uncover the source of the mysterious tape that implicated Yeonjun. As he sifted through the digital clutter, he stumbled upon an unsettling discovery: a file had been sent from his computer to Zhang Hao’s email.
The timestamp on the file matched the time when Yeonjun had received the recording. Jaehyun’s fingers hovered over the keyboard as he composed a text message to Zhang Hao, his frustration evident.
**Jaehyun:** *Hey Zhang Hao, we need to talk. I found something unsettling. Can you come to my place?*
Zhang Hao replied almost immediately, his tone nonchalant.
**Zhang Hao:** *Sure, what’s up?*
A short while later, Zhang Hao arrived at Jaehyun’s apartment. Jaehyun greeted him with a terse nod and led him to the living room where he had set up his laptop. Zhang Hao took a seat, glancing around the room with a hint of unease.
“Alright, Jaehyun, what’s this about?” Zhang Hao asked, trying to maintain a calm demeanor.
Jaehyun didn’t waste time. He opened his email and navigated to the “sent items” folder. “I found a file in my sent items folder that was sent to you. It’s the same recording of Beomgyu that was sent to Yeonjun. Why is that?”
Zhang Hao’s eyes widened slightly, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t send that recording to anyone.”
Jaehyun’s gaze was steely, his voice firm. “It shows clearly here that it was sent from my computer to your email. How do you explain that?”
Zhang Hao ran a hand through his hair, visibly stressed. “Look, I don’t know how that happened. I might have used your computer before, but I didn’t send that file. I swear.”
Jaehyun’s expression hardened. “So you’re saying someone else must have used my computer to send it, or that it was somehow manipulated?”
Zhang Hao shook his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t send it, and I didn’t even know about it until now. You have to believe me.”
Jaehyun sighed, rubbing his temples. “This doesn’t make sense. If you didn’t send it, then someone else must have had access to my computer or manipulated the data. But why would anyone do that and frame you?”
Zhang Hao’s eyes narrowed, a hint of realization dawning. “Wait… if someone wanted to frame me, they would need to know how to cover their tracks. It’s possible someone with a grudge or an agenda could have done this.”
Jaehyun nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That’s what I’m starting to think. We need to figure out who had access to my computer and who might benefit from framing you.”
Zhang Hao’s face showed a mix of relief and anxiety. “Okay. I’ll cooperate fully. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
Jaehyun’s tone softened slightly, though he remained cautious. “For now, I need you to provide any alibis or information about your recent activities. And if you have any suspicions about who might be targeting you, let me know.”
Zhang Hao nodded vigorously. “Understood. I’ll give you everything I have.”
As Zhang Hao left Jaehyun’s apartment, the two were left with more questions than answers. The revelation had added a new layer of complexity to the situation, and both knew that uncovering the truth behind the manipulated data and the recording would require careful investigation and collaboration.
======================================================
Tiffany sat in the cozy corner office of Sheriff Jiwoong, a cup of coffee warming her hands as she and Jiwoong shared a rare moment of quiet. The walls were adorned with various commendations and photos of the sheriff in his professional capacity, but the atmosphere was relaxed and intimate today.
“So, Tiffany,” Jiwoong began, his tone uncharacteristically somber as he leaned back in his chair. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something personal.”
Tiffany looked up, her curiosity piqued. “Of course, Jiwoong. What’s on your mind?”
Jiwoong hesitated for a moment, his gaze distant. “It’s about my son, Leehan. There’s something that’s been troubling me for a while.”
Tiffany nodded encouragingly. “You can tell me anything.”
Jiwoong took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of vulnerability and unease. “Back when we lived in Arizona, there was an incident. Leehan accidentally shot his friend. The injury was severe—his friend died. It was a tragic accident.”
Tiffany’s eyes widened with concern. “Oh, Jiwoong, that’s awful. How is Leehan handling it?”
Jiwoong’s expression grew more troubled. “That’s the thing. After the accident, Leehan took a long time to call 911. I’ve always wondered why he waited so long. It’s been haunting me, wondering if he panicked, if he didn’t know what to do, or if there was something more to it.”
Tiffany’s heart went out to Jiwoong. “That must be incredibly difficult for you, not knowing the full story. Have you talked to Leehan about it?”
Jiwoong nodded slowly. “I have, but he’s always been reluctant to talk about it in detail. He says he was scared and didn’t know how to handle the situation. But I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to it.”
Tiffany reached out, placing a comforting hand on Jiwoong’s arm. “It’s understandable to have doubts and concerns. Sometimes people react in ways that are hard to comprehend, especially in traumatic situations.”
Jiwoong looked down, his expression one of deep contemplation. “I keep questioning whether I did enough to support him or if there were things I missed. It’s been hard to reconcile his actions with the kind of person I believe he is.”
Tiffany’s voice was gentle yet firm. “You did the best you could, and you still care deeply for him. It’s natural to have doubts, but it’s important to remember that accidents can be complex, and people’s responses to trauma aren’t always straightforward.”
Jiwoong sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just hard to let go of those lingering questions.”
Tiffany smiled softly, her gaze warm. “Talking about it helps. Maybe you and Leehan can find a way to address these feelings together. Sometimes, just acknowledging the past can help in healing and moving forward.”
Jiwoong nodded, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “Thank you, Tiffany. Your support means a lot. I’ll try to have a more open conversation with Leehan.”
Tiffany gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. “Anytime, Jiwoong. I’m here for you.”
As they continued their conversation, the air between them felt lighter. The shared understanding and support were a balm for the unresolved emotions, and Jiwoong felt a renewed sense of resolve to face his past and work towards understanding his son’s actions more deeply.
======================================================
Yeonjun and Soobin walked down the sterile hospital corridor, their footsteps echoing off the polished floors. The hospital was quieter than usual, with the low hum of machines and distant conversations creating a backdrop of clinical calm. They approached the room where Sooyoung, the psychology teacher, was being treated, hoping to get some answers about the tape and her recent accusations.
The door was slightly ajar, and they peeked in to see Sooyoung lying in a hospital bed, her face pale and bandaged. She had lost a significant amount of blood, but her condition was stable. The room was filled with medical equipment, and a nurse was checking the monitors.
Yeonjun and Soobin entered cautiously. As they approached the bedside, Sooyoung's eyes fluttered open. When she saw Yeonjun, her expression turned from confusion to horror.
“No!” Sooyoung screamed, her voice weak but filled with terror. “Stay away from me!”
Yeonjun froze, his face a mask of shock. “Sooyoung, it’s us. Yeonjun and Soobin. We just want to talk.”
Sooyoung’s scream grew louder, her panic evident. “No, no, you’re him! You’re the killer!”
Soobin stepped forward, his voice calm and steady. “Sooyoung, please, we’re here to help. You’re safe now. We need to understand what’s going on. Why did you accuse Yeonjun?”
Sooyoung’s eyes darted between them, her breathing rapid and shallow. “He’s dangerous! He’s been following me, watching me. He’s the one behind all of this!”
Yeonjun’s heart pounded, his frustration clear. “Sooyoung, I swear to you, I’m not the killer. I need you to tell us what you know. We’re all trying to figure out who’s really behind this.”
Sooyoung’s eyes were filled with a mix of fear and desperation. “I—I saw something. I saw someone who looked like him. I thought it was Yeonjun, but it was too dark, too confusing.”
Soobin moved closer, his expression sympathetic. “It’s okay, Sooyoung. Can you remember anything else? Any details that might help us understand what really happened?”
Sooyoung’s grip tightened on the bed sheets, her voice trembling. “I—I don’t know. I was in the classroom, and then someone attacked me. I thought it was him because of the shadows and the way he moved. But now... I’m not sure.”
Yeonjun’s frustration mixed with concern. “Sooyoung, we need you to be certain. If there’s any chance you were mistaken, we need to clear this up. We’re trying to stop the real killer.”
The nurse, noticing the heightened distress in the room, stepped in gently. “I think we need to calm down now. Sooyoung needs rest, and we should let her recover.”
Yeonjun and Soobin exchanged a look of determination. “We’ll let her rest,” Soobin said, his tone firm yet understanding. “But we’ll be back. We need to get to the bottom of this.”
As they left the room, Sooyoung’s screams still echoing in their ears, Yeonjun and Soobin felt the weight of the mystery deepen. They were more resolved than ever to uncover the truth and clear Yeonjun’s name, no matter where the investigation led.
======================================================
The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale light through the office windows. Inside Sheriff Jiwoong's office, the shadows danced across the walls as Leehan crept quietly through the dimly lit space. He had been troubled by the recent revelations about his father’s lingering doubts concerning the Arizona incident. Tonight, driven by a mix of curiosity and unease, he had decided to investigate further.
Leehan’s eyes scanned the room, taking in the neatly organized files and photos of the sheriff in various professional settings. His heart raced as he approached Jiwoong’s desk, where a file folder sat slightly ajar. With a cautious glance around to ensure he wasn’t being watched, Leehan slid the folder closer and opened it.
Inside, he found a collection of documents, notes, and a series of photographs that included pictures of himself. His breath caught in his throat as he flipped through the pages, realizing that his father had been meticulously documenting every detail related to him and the incident in Arizona.
“What the hell…” Leehan muttered under his breath, his eyes widening as he read through the notes. The file contained detailed accounts of the shooting, notes on his behavior afterward, and even observations about his interactions with friends and family.
Suddenly, a sound at the door made him freeze. Jiwoong’s voice carried through the office, clearly distressed. “Leehan? Is that you?”
Panic surged through Leehan. He quickly shoved the folder back into place and turned to face the door just as Jiwoong entered the office. The sheriff’s expression was a mix of confusion and concern.
“Dad, I—” Leehan started, but his voice faltered as he tried to come up with an explanation.
Jiwoong’s eyes narrowed as he took in the disheveled state of his son and the partially open file. “What are you doing here? And what’s this about?”
Leehan’s face flushed with a mix of guilt and frustration. “I was just… curious. I found this file, and I wanted to know what you’ve been keeping on me.”
Jiwoong’s expression softened slightly, but his voice remained stern. “Leehan, it’s not what you think. I’ve been keeping track of everything related to that incident because I’m worried. I need to understand what really happened.”
Leehan’s eyes met his father’s, a mix of hurt and anger showing. “Why didn’t you just talk to me about it? Why keep a secret file?”
Jiwoong sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t want to burden you more than you already were. I was trying to piece together the puzzle myself, hoping to get some clarity.”
Leehan’s voice was tinged with frustration. “But it feels like you don’t trust me. You’re monitoring me like I’m some kind of suspect.”
Jiwoong’s shoulders slumped, his voice filled with regret. “I’m sorry, Leehan. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I’ve been struggling with my own doubts and fears. I wanted to understand why you waited so long to call 911, but I didn’t know how to approach it.”
Leehan’s anger slowly subsided, replaced by a more vulnerable expression. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to deal with it, and I froze. I thought I could handle it on my own. But this file, it makes it seem like you don’t believe me.”
Jiwoong stepped closer, his voice earnest. “I do believe you, Leehan. I just didn’t know how to handle my own fears. I should have talked to you directly instead of keeping secrets.”
Leehan took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. “I understand you’re worried, but we need to face this together. Don’t keep things from me. If you have doubts, we should talk about them openly.”
Jiwoong nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of relief and sadness. “You’re right. I’ll try to be more open. We need to work through this as a family.”
As the two of them stood in the quiet office, the tension between them began to ease. The secrets had been laid bare, and while the path to healing would be challenging, they both knew that honesty and communication were essential for moving forward.
======================================================
In the dimly lit room, Jaehyun and Zhang Hao lay entangled in the aftermath of their passionate encounter. The moonlight filtering through the blinds cast soft shadows across the walls, illuminating their flushed faces and disheveled clothing. The intensity of their connection had left them both breathless, but the tranquility was abruptly interrupted as Jaehyun's eyes caught something unusual under his desk.
“What’s that?” Jaehyun murmured, his curiosity piqued as he reached down and fished out a small, inconspicuous device from beneath the desk. It was a recording device, its tiny red light blinking steadily.
Zhang Hao, still catching his breath, glanced over and blinked in surprise. “Is that a recording device?”
Jaehyun nodded, his expression turning from confusion to alarm. “Yes, it is. I don’t remember ever seeing this before. It must have been hidden here.”
Zhang Hao’s eyes widened with concern. “Could it be that someone has been recording us? Or perhaps it’s been used for something more sinister?”
Jaehyun turned the device over in his hands, his mind racing. “It looks like it’s been here for a while. If someone planted this, they might have been recording more than just us.”
He quickly turned the device on, and a series of files appeared on the small screen. Jaehyun scrolled through them, his heart pounding with every click. “Here—there’s a file labeled ‘Beomgyu’s Confession.’”
Zhang Hao sat up, his eyes filled with a mixture of alarm and disbelief. “That means the killer was using this to record Beomgyu separately from the other recordings. And that’s how Yeonjun received it.”
Jaehyun’s face paled as the implications sank in. “If the killer had access to my room and was able to plant this device, it means they were watching us closely. They could have been using this to manipulate things from the shadows.”
Zhang Hao’s voice was tight with concern. “We need to tell Yeonjun about this. He needs to know that there’s more going on than we initially thought.”
Jaehyun nodded, his mind already racing through the implications. “Yes, we need to get this information to him immediately. We have to figure out who else might be involved and how deep this goes.”
Zhang Hao reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder. “We’ll get through this. We need to stay focused and find out who’s behind this. We have to protect ourselves and those we care about.”
Jaehyun took a deep breath, steadying himself as he gathered his thoughts. “You’re right. Let’s get this information to Yeonjun and work together to uncover the truth. We can’t let this killer stay in the shadows any longer.”
As they prepared to contact Yeonjun, the weight of their discovery hung heavily over them. The revelation of the hidden recording device only deepened the mystery and underscored the danger they were all facing. But with determination and cooperation, they knew they had a chance to expose the truth and bring the real killer to light.
======================================================
Yeonjun and Soobin moved cautiously through the deserted hospital corridor, the evening shadows casting eerie shapes along the walls. They were on a mission to uncover more about Sooyoung, whose recent accusations and frantic behavior had only deepened their suspicion. Having successfully taken Sooyoung’s keys from her bedside table, they made their way to her home, their hearts racing with anticipation.
Once outside the modest house, Soobin glanced around to ensure they weren’t being watched. “Okay, we’ve got the keys. Let’s get this done quickly.”
Yeonjun nodded, his gaze fixed on the front door. “Remember, we’re just looking for anything that might link Sooyoung to the case, especially with Hanbin.”
They unlocked the door and slipped inside, moving quietly to avoid any noise. The house was quiet and dimly lit, with the occasional beam of moonlight filtering through the windows. They began their search in the living room, sifting through bookshelves and drawers.
In the hallway, Soobin’s eyes landed on a framed photograph hanging on the wall. He gestured to Yeonjun, who joined him in examining it more closely. The photo was of a group of children in an elementary school class, their youthful faces frozen in time.
“This must be Sooyoung’s class photo,” Soobin remarked, squinting at the image. “But look—”
Yeonjun leaned in, his eyes narrowing as he recognized a familiar face in the picture. “That’s Hanbin! He’s in the photo. Sooyoung was in his class.”
Soobin’s expression shifted from curiosity to concern. “Sooyoung and Hanbin were classmates? This could mean she was involved with him or at least knew him well. It’s a connection we didn’t expect.”
Yeonjun’s mind raced with possibilities. “If Sooyoung was connected to Hanbin, it might explain her strange behavior and why she seemed to recognize something related to the killer. She could be more involved than we thought.”
Soobin studied the photograph more closely, noting the way the children’s innocent smiles contrasted sharply with the grim reality they were uncovering. “We need to find out what Sooyoung’s connection to Hanbin really was. It could be crucial to understanding the whole picture.”
Yeonjun nodded, his determination solidifying. “We should keep looking for more evidence. There might be other clues in the house that can shed light on their relationship.”
As they continued their search, they uncovered more personal items that suggested Sooyoung had been deeply connected to her past. Letters and old journals hinted at a complex web of relationships and emotions.
After thoroughly searching the house, Yeonjun and Soobin retreated quietly, locking the door behind them. Outside, they exchanged thoughtful glances.
“This changes things,” Soobin said, his voice low. “We need to confront Sooyoung about this. Her connection to Hanbin might be a key piece of the puzzle.”
Yeonjun agreed, his mind already planning their next steps. “Yes, and we need to be cautious. There’s a lot we don’t know yet. But finding this link is a big step forward.”
As they made their way back to the hospital to confront Sooyoung, the weight of their discovery hung heavy in the air. The connection between Sooyoung and Hanbin added a new layer of complexity to their investigation, making it clear that the path to the truth would be fraught with challenges and revelations.
======================================================
Leehan sat alone in his room, the flickering light from his desk lamp casting long shadows over the scattered papers and photographs before him. The file he had discovered in his father’s office lay open, revealing disturbing connections that linked Sunoo’s deceased ex, Sunghoon, to Sunoo’s father in a way that suggested a hidden agenda. The evidence hinted at possible dealings in arson for hire, but the exact nature of their collaboration remained vague.
Leehan’s hands trembled as he processed the information. The implications were troubling, and he knew this was something Sunoo needed to know. The next morning, Leehan decided to confront Sunoo with the damning evidence.
At Sunoo’s apartment, Leehan knocked sharply on the door. When Sunoo opened it, his face was a mask of exhaustion and irritation.
“What is it, Leehan?” Sunoo asked, his tone brusque as he tried to stifle the exhaustion from the past few nights. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
Leehan, holding the file tightly, met Sunoo’s gaze with a mix of determination and concern. “I found something that I think you need to see. It’s about Sunghoon and your father.”
Sunoo’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and anger. “What are you talking about?”
Leehan stepped inside, placing the file on Sunoo’s coffee table. “I went through my dad’s files and found evidence that Sunghoon was involved in something shady with your father. It looks like they were working together on some kind of arson for hire scheme.”
Sunoo’s eyes widened as he flipped through the documents, his face growing pale. “My dad… and Sunghoon? What is this? Why was this kept from me?”
Leehan watched as Sunoo’s anger built, the realization sinking in. “I’m sorry, Sunoo. I thought you should know. This isn’t just about Sunghoon. It’s about understanding what your father was really involved in.”
Sunoo’s hands clenched into fists, his voice trembling with fury. “My father was involved in criminal activities? And he had Sunghoon working with him? How could he hide this from me? I trusted him!”
Leehan nodded sympathetically. “I understand this is a shock. It changes a lot about how you see your father and his connections. But we need to figure out what this means for you and the current situation.”
Sunoo’s anger turned to despair as he sank onto the couch, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know where to start. I feel so betrayed. Everything I thought I knew about my father and Sunghoon was a lie.”
Leehan took a seat beside him, offering a reassuring presence. “I know it’s hard, but we need to stay focused. This information might be crucial for understanding the bigger picture and finding out who’s behind all of this.”
Sunoo looked at Leehan, his eyes filled with a mix of hurt and determination. “You’re right. I need to confront my father about this. I need answers.”
Leehan placed a comforting hand on Sunoo’s shoulder. “I’ll be here with you, every step of the way. We’ll get through this and find out the truth.”
As they sat together, the weight of the new revelation hung heavy in the room. Sunoo’s sense of betrayal was profound, but the path forward was clear. With Leehan’s support, Sunoo was determined to confront his father and uncover the full extent of the secrets that had been buried for too long.
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Yeonjun and Soobin stood outside the decrepit gates of the old orphanage, its once grand facade now marred by years of neglect. The building loomed in the moonlight, casting eerie shadows that stretched across the cracked pavement. What had once been a solemn orphanage and later a grim insane asylum was now the unexpected venue for a mask-themed warehouse rave.
“So this is where the party’s happening?” Soobin asked, eyeing the crumbling structure with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
Yeonjun nodded, glancing at the flyer they had found earlier. The bold e-blast had been signed by Yeonjun and Beomgyu, a detail that only added to the strangeness of the situation. “According to the flyer, the rave is going on inside. But we need to be careful. This place gives me the creeps.”
As they approached the entrance, the thumping bass of the music became more pronounced, vibrating through the walls of the old building. The bright, pulsating lights from inside pierced through the cracks and broken windows, casting an almost otherworldly glow onto the night.
A crowd of party-goers, all donned in elaborate masks, spilled out of the entrance, laughing and dancing. The mask-themed rave had drawn a diverse and energetic crowd, and the air was thick with anticipation and excitement.
“So, this is where everyone’s been hiding,” Soobin remarked, trying to make sense of the chaotic scene before them. “What’s going on? Why would Beomgyu be involved in something like this?”
Yeonjun shook his head, his expression a mix of frustration and confusion. “I don’t know, but we need to get inside. We have to figure out what’s really happening here.”
They made their way through the throng of masked revelers, each person’s costume adding to the surreal atmosphere. Yeonjun and Soobin finally managed to slip through the entrance, the cacophony of music and chatter engulfing them.
Inside, the old orphanage had been transformed into a vibrant, pulsating rave space. Neon lights and lasers danced across the walls, and the air was filled with the scent of sweat, smoke, and something that smelled like cheap perfume. The crowd was a sea of masks and glitter, moving in rhythm to the high-energy beats that blasted from the speakers.
Yeonjun scanned the room, trying to spot Beomgyu or any signs that might explain the strange e-blast. “We need to find Beomgyu. If he’s involved, he might know something about why this place was chosen.”
Soobin nodded, his eyes darting around. “And we should be on the lookout for anything unusual. This place feels off.”
As they wove through the crowd, they finally spotted Beomgyu near the DJ booth, surrounded by a few friends and chatting animatedly. Yeonjun and Soobin made their way over, trying to get his attention amidst the chaos.
“Beomgyu!” Yeonjun called out, pushing through the crowd.
Beomgyu turned, his face lighting up with a mixture of surprise and amusem*nt when he saw Yeonjun and Soobin. “Hey! What are you guys doing here? This place is insane, right?”
Yeonjun’s face was serious, though he tried to keep his tone even. “Yeah, it’s definitely something. We saw the e-blast and couldn’t figure out why you’d be involved in this. What’s going on?”
Beomgyu’s smile faltered slightly, his gaze shifting to the side. “Oh, that. I guess you’re here for more than just the party, huh?”
Soobin crossed his arms, his expression skeptical. “We’re trying to understand why this place was chosen. And why the invitation came from you and Yeonjun.”
Beomgyu glanced around, his demeanor cautious. “Look, I didn’t expect you guys to show up here. It was supposed to be a fun, distraction from everything else. I didn’t think it’d turn into a full-blown investigation.”
Yeonjun’s frustration bubbled to the surface. “This place used to be an insane asylum. There’s more going on here than just a party. What aren’t you telling us?”
Beomgyu hesitated, then sighed. “Alright, fine. I know this seems weird, but I thought we could use the chaos of the party to cover up some... well, let’s just say I was trying to do something on the side that might help us understand more about the people behind the recent events.”
Soobin’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of ‘something’ are we talking about?”
Before Beomgyu could answer, a loud commotion erupted near the back of the warehouse. A group of masked figures had begun arguing, and the atmosphere grew tense. Yeonjun and Soobin exchanged worried glances, sensing that the situation might be spiraling out of control.
“Let’s deal with this later,” Beomgyu said, his voice urgent. “We need to check out what’s happening over there. Follow me.”
As they followed Beomgyu through the crowd, the pulsating lights and music seemed to grow even more intense, heightening their sense of urgency. The party was becoming increasingly chaotic, and they knew they had to navigate carefully to uncover the truth behind this bizarre and unsettling night.
======================================================
The thrumming beat of the music reverberated through the decrepit halls of the old orphanage, where the mask-themed rave was in full swing. The crowd, adorned in an array of extravagant masks, danced and swayed to the pulsating rhythms of the DJ. Amidst the sea of revelers, Yeonjun and Soobin navigated through the dense throng, their eyes scanning for anything that might shed light on the party’s true purpose.
As they reached a quieter corner of the room, they spotted Yuna, the party’s mask distributor, near a table stacked with various masks. She was handing out masks to party-goers with an air of enthusiasm that seemed at odds with the unsettling reality they faced. Yeonjun approached her, a sense of urgency in his step.
“Yuna!” Yeonjun called over the thumping music. “Can we talk for a moment? We need to discuss something important.”
Yuna looked up from the masks, her eyes wide with curiosity. She was wearing a flamboyant mask herself, adorned with feathers and sequins. “Sure, what’s up? I’m kind of busy here.”
Yeonjun tried to keep his voice steady, despite the chaotic environment. “We’re trying to figure out why this party was organized here. There’s a killer on the loose, and we need to take action. Can you help us shut this down?”
Yuna laughed, a light, carefree sound that seemed almost out of place given the gravity of the situation. “Oh, you’re worried about that? I don’t think it’s such a big deal.”
Soobin stepped forward, his voice edged with frustration. “How can you say that? People’s lives are at risk!”
Yuna waved a dismissive hand, her expression turning smug. “Relax. I actually know the guy who threw this party. And, if you must know, I’m currently... involved with him.”
Yeonjun’s eyes widened in shock. “Involved with him? You mean—”
“Yes,” Yuna said with a smirk, leaning closer to be heard over the music. “I’m currently boning the guy who organized this whole event. He’s got everything under control. Trust me, the party’s not the problem here.”
Soobin’s jaw dropped, and he shot a bewildered glance at Yeonjun. “Are you kidding me? This isn’t the time for—”
Yuna cut him off with a wave. “Look, I get that you’re concerned, but the party’s already in full swing. Besides, my boyfriend knows what he’s doing. He wouldn’t let anything happen. He’s... well, let’s just say he’s got some connections.”
Yeonjun struggled to keep his composure, feeling a mix of anger and disbelief. “We need to get to the bottom of this. We can’t just ignore the potential danger.”
Yuna’s smile faltered slightly, but she maintained her confident demeanor. “I’ll pass on the message. But you should know, sometimes things aren’t as dire as they seem. Enjoy the party and let the professionals handle the rest.”
With that, Yuna turned back to her table, her attention shifting to the next group of party-goers. Yeonjun and Soobin exchanged frustrated glances, their concern for the situation growing.
“This is ridiculous,” Soobin muttered, shaking his head. “We need to find a way to get through to the people in charge here.”
Yeonjun nodded, his resolve hardening. “Let’s keep looking. There has to be someone else here who knows more about what’s really going on.”
As they pushed their way back into the heart of the party, the pulsating music and flashing lights seemed to blur their sense of urgency. But Yeonjun and Soobin remained focused, determined to uncover the truth behind the mask-themed rave and its possible connections to the danger that loomed over them.
======================================================
The party was winding down, the last beats of the music echoing off the worn walls of the old orphanage. Revelers began to trickle out, their masks now slightly askew from hours of dancing and revelry. The neon lights flickered intermittently, casting eerie shadows across the emptying space.
Yuna moved through the thinning crowd, her eyes scanning for her boyfriend, who had been busy organizing the event all night. Her mask, a vibrant combination of feathers and sequins, was still firmly in place as she weaved her way through the partygoers.
“Where are you?” Yuna muttered to herself, her voice lost amidst the fading din of the music. Her thoughts were a mix of frustration and concern, a feeling of unease creeping into her calm facade.
As she approached a dimly lit corner of the room, she noticed a figure standing alone, their silhouette partially obscured by the shadows. The figure was wearing a Brandon James mask, which had become an infamous symbol in recent days. Yuna’s heart skipped a beat as she assumed it was her boyfriend, come to check on her or wrap up the party.
“Hey!” she called out, her voice bright with relief. “There you are. I was looking everywhere for you.”
The figure turned slowly, and Yuna’s smile faltered slightly when she saw the mask’s expressionless eyes staring back at her. Something about the way the figure moved, so deliberately, sent a chill down her spine. Her boyfriend had never moved like that before.
“Come on,” Yuna said, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling. “Let’s get out of here.”
As she took a step closer, the figure reached beneath the folds of the costume and pulled out a glinting knife. The cold, sharp blade reflected the dim light as it was brandished with a swift, practiced motion.
Yuna’s eyes widened in horror, her voice catching in her throat as the realization hit her. “Wait—”
Before she could react, the knife flashed through the air. The figure lunged forward, the blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. Yuna tried to back away, but her feet felt like they were glued to the floor, terror paralyzing her.
The first stab landed in her side, sending a jolt of pain through her body. Yuna gasped, her hand flying to the wound as she stumbled back. But the figure was relentless, the knife striking again and again in a cruel rhythm. Each stab was precise and calculated, as if the killer had done this many times before.
Yuna’s screams were muffled by the music and the chaos of the party’s end. She tried to cry out for help, but her voice was weak and desperate. The knife plunged into her repeatedly, each strike pushing her closer to the brink of unconsciousness.
Through the haze of pain and fear, Yuna’s vision blurred as she tried to focus on the figure in front of her. Her legs gave way, and she collapsed to the floor, the cold, unforgiving surface a stark contrast to the once vibrant atmosphere of the rave. The last thing she saw before her vision darkened was the Brandon James mask, a sinister emblem of the night’s horrors.
The killer, his job done, stepped back from the lifeless form of Yuna. He glanced around to ensure no one had witnessed the act, then turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving the party’s aftermath strewn with confusion and dread.
As the revelers began to filter out of the building, they would soon find Yuna’s body and be met with the grim realization that the night had ended in a chilling tragedy.
======================================================
The once energetic beats of the rave now seemed to be a distant echo in the background as Yeonjun wandered away from the crowd. The pulsating lights and the fading music created an atmosphere of disorientation, but Yeonjun's keen senses led him through the maze of the dilapidated orphanage. His nostrils caught a faint, unsettling scent, one that seemed out of place amidst the perfume and sweat of the party. Determined to investigate, he followed the odor until it grew stronger, leading him to a creaky door tucked away in a dark corner of the building.
Yeonjun hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open. The hinges groaned in protest as he stepped into the dimly lit room. The walls were covered in photographs of Hanbin, each image portraying him in various stages of life, from innocent childhood snaps to more recent, haunting shots. The photographs were arranged in a chaotic collage, creating a disturbing mosaic of the young man’s life.
Yeonjun's eyes widened in horror as he noticed a figure slumped against the far wall. With a gulp of dread, he approached cautiously, the weight of the atmosphere pressing down on him. As he got closer, he saw the figure clearly—a body, lifeless and sprawled out in a grotesque tableau.
The body was unmistakably Hanbin's. His eyes were half-open, one of them grotesquely shot out, leaving a gory mess. The rest of his appearance was equally disheveled and bedraggled, the state of the corpse suggesting that it hadn’t been taken to the medical examiner’s office, despite the previous claims. The sight was a stark, brutal confirmation of the tragedy that had been hidden beneath the surface of the rave.
“No,” Yeonjun whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. “It can’t be…”
The door creaked again as someone entered the room, and Yeonjun spun around to see Soobin standing in the doorway, his face a mask of shock and concern.
“Yeonjun!” Soobin called out, rushing over. “What did you find?”
Yeonjun pointed a shaking hand towards the body. “It’s Hanbin. His body—it’s here. This is the same Hanbin who was supposedly taken to the medical examiner. But clearly, they lied.”
Soobin’s face paled as he took in the horrific sight. “This is… this is awful. Why would someone bring his body here? What are they trying to prove?”
Yeonjun’s mind raced, trying to piece together the grim puzzle. “I don’t know. But this means the killer has been involved in a lot more than we realized. They must have connections, or at least a way to manipulate the system.”
Soobin swallowed hard, glancing around the room filled with Hanbin’s photos. “There has to be more to this. This room, the photos—what’s the connection? Why is this happening?”
Yeonjun nodded, his expression grim. “We need to find out who’s behind all this and why they chose to display Hanbin like this. It might be a clue to something bigger, something we’re missing.”
Just then, the distant sound of footsteps approached, and Yeonjun and Soobin exchanged worried glances. The partygoers would soon discover the room and the horrors within, and they needed to act quickly.
“We need to get out of here,” Soobin said urgently. “Before more people find this and panic sets in.”
Yeonjun agreed, his mind already racing with thoughts of how to unravel the mystery. “Let’s get back to the others and figure out our next move. This is just the tip of the iceberg, and we need to be ready.”
As they left the room, the weight of their discovery hung heavily over them. The party, once a vibrant escape from their troubles, had now become a scene of grim revelations. Yeonjun and Soobin knew they had to press on, their determination to uncover the truth driving them forward through the chaos of the night.
Chapter 20: The Vanishing
Chapter Text
Tiffany stood over the cold, lifeless body of Hanbin, her gloved hands steady as she made the first incision. The sterile lights of the morgue cast harsh shadows across the room, highlighting the gruesome task before her. Sheriff Jiwoong stood a few feet away, his arms crossed and his expression grim. They had both seen their fair share of horrors, but this felt different—darker, more personal.
With precise movements, Tiffany tore open Hanbin’s chest cavity, her breath hitching slightly as she prepared herself for what she might find. As she peeled back the layers of flesh, something unusual caught her eye. Nestled inside the chest cavity, where Hanbin’s heart should have been, was something that made her blood run cold.
A pig’s heart.
Tiffany’s eyes widened in shock as she carefully pulled the organ from Hanbin’s chest, holding it up for Sheriff Jiwoong to see. “It’s a pig’s heart,” she said, her voice filled with disbelief.
Jiwoong stepped closer, his gaze fixed on the heart. The realization of what it meant was immediate, and a sickening sense of dread settled over him. “This isn’t just some sick joke. It’s a message.”
Tiffany nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she placed the pig’s heart on a nearby tray. “Whoever did this… they wanted us to find it. They knew we’d be the ones to open him up.”
Jiwoong’s jaw clenched, his mind racing with the implications. “This is deliberate. A warning, or maybe a threat.”
Tiffany wiped her hands on a towel, trying to steady herself. “It’s like they’re saying Hanbin’s life meant nothing to them. Just another body to desecrate.”
Jiwoong’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the pig’s heart. “Or worse, that we’re the pigs. That they’re playing with us, leading us on a wild goose chase while they do whatever they want.”
The room felt colder, the air heavy with the stench of death and the weight of the sinister message they had just uncovered. Tiffany’s mind was already racing, trying to piece together what kind of monster would do something like this.
“Jiwoong,” she said softly, her eyes meeting his, “we need to find out who did this before they send another message.”
Jiwoong nodded, his resolve hardening. “We will. But we need to be careful. Whoever this is, they’re not just some run-of-the-mill killer. They’re playing a game, and they’re making sure we know it.”
Tiffany’s gaze drifted back to Hanbin’s lifeless body, her heart heavy with the realization that this was only the beginning. “We’re in their sights now, Jiwoong. They’re watching us.”
Jiwoong placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his eyes filled with determination. “Then let them watch. We’ll be ready.”
But as they stood there, the gruesome evidence of the killer’s twisted mind before them, both Tiffany and Jiwoong knew that the road ahead was going to be darker and more dangerous than they could have ever imagined.
======================================================
Beomgyu sat on the edge of Yeonjun's bed, his hands fidgeting nervously in his lap. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioner, but the tension between them crackled like static electricity. Yeonjun stood by the window, his back turned to Beomgyu, staring out at the darkening sky. The weight of unspoken words hung heavily in the air, pressing down on both of them.
"Yeonjun," Beomgyu finally spoke, his voice tentative, almost pleading. "I didn’t know it would turn out like this. You have to believe me."
Yeonjun remained silent, his fingers tightening around the windowsill. He had always trusted Beomgyu, had always believed in the bond they shared. But now, that trust felt fractured, tainted by the revelation of Beomgyu's secret correspondence with Hanbin. The same Hanbin who had gone on a murderous rampage, leaving a trail of blood and broken lives in his wake.
"Why didn’t you tell me?" Yeonjun asked, his voice low but laced with hurt. He turned to face Beomgyu, his eyes searching for answers in his friend’s face. "Why did you keep it a secret?"
Beomgyu looked down, unable to meet Yeonjun’s gaze. "I didn’t think it was important," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "At first, it was just letters. We talked about… about nothing, really. I didn’t think he was capable of—"
"But he was," Yeonjun interrupted, his tone sharper than he intended. "He was capable of all of it. And you… you were his friend."
The word "friend" hung in the air like an accusation, heavy and unforgiving. Beomgyu flinched, his shoulders slumping under the weight of Yeonjun’s words. "I wasn’t his friend," he protested weakly. "I was just… I was just trying to find someone who can help me. He also seemed so lonely, so lost. I thought maybe we could help each other."
"Help him?" Yeonjun repeated incredulously, his emotions boiling over. "You think you could have helped him? Beomgyu, he was a killer! And now—" His voice cracked, and he looked away, fighting to regain control. "And now, because of him, people are dead. And I can’t help but wonder… if you hadn’t been so close to him, would any of this have happened?"
The question hung in the air, raw and painful. Beomgyu felt as if Yeonjun had just struck him. He had asked himself the same question a thousand times since Hanbin’s true nature had been revealed, but hearing it from Yeonjun, from someone he cared about so deeply, made the guilt and self-doubt almost unbearable.
"I don’t know," Beomgyu admitted, his voice breaking. "I don’t know if it would’ve made a difference. But I swear, Yeonjun, I never wanted any of this. I never wanted anyone to get hurt."
Yeonjun closed his eyes, trying to block out the torrent of emotions flooding his mind. He wanted to believe Beomgyu, wanted to forgive him, but the doubt lingered like a shadow over their friendship. "I know you didn’t," he said quietly, opening his eyes to look at Beomgyu once more. "But I can’t help feeling like… like you were part of it, somehow. Like you were a piece of the puzzle, and I didn’t even see it."
Beomgyu felt a cold dread settle in the pit of his stomach. "Yeonjun, please…"
"I’m not blaming you," Yeonjun cut in, his voice softening slightly. "But I can’t just ignore what happened. I can’t just pretend everything’s okay. Not after everything we’ve been through. Not after Hanbin."
Beomgyu nodded slowly, tears welling up in his eyes. He had feared this moment, feared that his connection to Hanbin would destroy the one friendship he valued above all others. "I understand," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "But I need you to know that I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry."
Yeonjun sighed, running a hand through his hair as he turned back to the window. The sun had set, and the sky was a deep, inky blue, mirroring the turmoil in his heart. "I know you are," he said softly, not turning around. "But I need time, Beomgyu. I need time to figure out how to deal with all of this."
Beomgyu nodded, even though Yeonjun couldn’t see it. "Take all the time you need," he said, his voice barely audible. "I’ll be here when you’re ready."
With that, the room fell back into silence. Beomgyu got up from the bed, his heart heavy with regret, and quietly left the room. As the door clicked shut behind him, Yeonjun leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window, closing his eyes against the rush of conflicting emotions.
He wanted to believe Beomgyu, wanted to forgive him, but the shadow of doubt loomed large. It would take time for that shadow to fade—if it ever did.
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The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie silver glow over the Lakewood pier. The water below rippled softly, its surface reflecting the darkened sky above. Tiffany and Jiwoong, just teenagers back then, had snuck out of their homes, driven by the thrill of rebellion and the freedom of a summer night. They’d been laughing, their voices carrying on the wind as they walked along the old wooden boards, their footsteps echoing softly in the quiet.
But the laughter died on their lips when they saw him.
Brandon James, a name that had been whispered in fear and hushed tones around town, lay crumpled near the edge of the pier. His face was pale, ghostly in the moonlight, and his breathing was shallow, almost imperceptible. Blood stained the boards beneath him, seeping into the wood as he clutched at his side, his eyes half-lidded with pain.
Tiffany gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she stared at the dying boy before them. “Jiwoong… is that…?”
Jiwoong swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest as he recognized the familiar features of the local legend. The stories about Brandon James had been terrifying enough—tales of a disfigured outcast, a boy turned monster by the cruelty of others. But seeing him like this, vulnerable and fading fast, made the rumors feel distant and unreal.
“What do we do?” Tiffany whispered, her voice trembling with fear.
Jiwoong’s mind raced, torn between the instinct to help and the terror of what getting involved might mean. Brandon James was a pariah, an untouchable. Associating with him, even in this moment, could bring nothing but trouble.
But Tiffany’s eyes were wide, pleading, and for a brief moment, Jiwoong considered doing the right thing—running for help, calling an ambulance, anything to save the boy who had become a ghost story.
Brandon’s eyes fluttered open, fixing on them with a desperate plea that cut through the night air like a knife. He tried to speak, but the words came out as a garbled whisper, his strength fading fast. He was asking for help, and even in their fear, they could hear it.
“We can’t just leave him here,” Tiffany said, her voice wavering as she took a hesitant step forward.
Jiwoong grabbed her arm, pulling her back. “Tiffany, no. If we get involved… they’ll think we’re part of whatever happened to him. We can’t get dragged into this.”
“But he’s dying,” she insisted, tears welling up in her eyes. “We can’t just leave him to die, Jiwoong.”
Jiwoong looked at her, then back at Brandon, who was struggling to keep his eyes open, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His heart was heavy with guilt, but fear was stronger. “Tiffany… think about what will happen if people find out we were here. They’ll blame us. They’ll say we had something to do with this.”
Tiffany’s lower lip quivered as she looked down at Brandon, her heart torn. But the weight of Jiwoong’s words pressed down on her, suffocating her better instincts. She glanced back at him, seeing the fear in his eyes, and she knew he was right—at least, in the way that teenagers often do when fear clouds their judgment.
“We have to go,” Jiwoong said softly, his voice thick with the decision that neither of them wanted to make. “We have to get out of here, now.”
Tiffany hesitated for just a moment longer, her gaze locked on Brandon’s. But in the end, fear won out. She nodded, her throat tight with the tears she refused to let fall. Together, they turned and walked away, their footsteps quickening as they left Brandon James to his fate.
Behind them, the pier grew quiet once more, save for the soft, labored breaths of a boy who would soon become a part of Lakewood’s dark history. Tiffany and Jiwoong didn’t look back, their hearts heavy with the weight of their choice—a choice that would haunt them in the years to come.
As they disappeared into the night, Brandon’s breaths grew shallower, his grip on life slipping away with each passing moment. And as the moon dipped lower in the sky, the last light of life faded from his eyes, leaving only the cold darkness of the lake to bear witness to his final moments.
======================================================
Jaehyun had always been one to follow his gut. Maybe that’s why, when he received those texts from "Zhang Hao" inviting him to ditch school for the day, he didn’t think twice. He didn’t question the odd phrasing or the fact that Zhang Hao had never been the type to skip class. Instead, he focused on the little thrill that came with breaking the rules, the idea of spending the day with someone he was genuinely starting to like.
The first message was simple enough: *"Let’s play hooky today. Meet me at our spot?"* Jaehyun smiled at his phone, a small, private smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He texted back quickly, without overthinking: *"On my way."*
He skipped the morning classes without a second thought, dodging the few friends who might question where he was going. The town was tense these days, with the shadow of a murderer looming over them, but Jaehyun was good at compartmentalizing his fear. He kept it locked up in the back of his mind, convinced that as long as he was careful, nothing bad would happen to him.
The meeting spot wasn’t anywhere particularly special—just an old, secluded clearing on the outskirts of town, where they had hung out once before. A place where the trees grew thick and tall, their branches forming a canopy that blocked out the sunlight. It was quiet out there, the kind of quiet that made you feel like the rest of the world didn’t exist.
Jaehyun arrived first. He paced around, his sneakers crunching softly on the fallen leaves, occasionally glancing at his phone. Zhang Hao hadn’t responded to his last text, but that didn’t worry him much. Maybe he was running late.
As minutes passed, a sense of unease began to settle over him. It was subtle at first, just a prickle on the back of his neck, like he was being watched. He turned, scanning the trees, but there was nothing—just the dense forest and the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves.
“Zhang Hao?” Jaehyun called out, his voice louder than he intended. It echoed in the quiet, and he winced at how exposed it made him feel.
Silence answered him. The unease deepened, turning into a gnawing anxiety in his gut. He checked his phone again. No new messages.
Jaehyun took a deep breath, trying to shake off the paranoia. He was being ridiculous, he told himself. Just because there was a killer on the loose didn’t mean Zhang Hao had set him up. But his instincts, the same ones that had brought him here in the first place, were now screaming at him to leave.
He turned to go, ready to chalk this up to a misunderstanding, when a figure stepped out from behind a tree.
“Zhang Hao?” Jaehyun’s voice was hesitant, a flicker of relief sparking in his chest. But as the figure moved closer, that relief turned to cold dread.
It wasn’t Zhang Hao.
The figure was wearing the mask—the mask that had haunted his nightmares, that had become the face of the terror gripping their town. Before Jaehyun could react, before he could even take a step back, the killer lunged at him.
Pain exploded in his stomach as the blade plunged deep, twisting cruelly. Jaehyun gasped, his hands instinctively reaching for the wound, but the strength was already leaving him. The world spun, the trees blurring together as his knees buckled beneath him.
“Why…” he managed to choke out, his voice barely more than a whisper. But the killer didn’t answer. The mask stared down at him, cold and unfeeling, as if his life meant nothing.
Jaehyun crumpled to the ground, his vision darkening at the edges. The pain was fading now, replaced by a numbness that crept through his limbs. He tried to focus, to keep his eyes open, but the darkness was overwhelming, pulling him under.
The last thing he saw before the world went black was the killer’s mask disappearing into the trees, leaving him alone in the clearing, the autumn leaves stained red beneath him.
======================================================
Yeonjun and Beomgyu were engaged in a heated argument at Beomgyu’s house, their voices echoing through the dimly lit room. The tension was palpable, a mix of frustration and fear as they grappled with the unraveling chaos in Lakewood.
"—and I’m telling you, we need to be more careful!” Yeonjun snapped, his face flushed with anger. “Every time we turn around, someone else is getting hurt!”
“And what am I supposed to do about it?” Beomgyu retorted, his fists clenched. “You think I’m just sitting around while all this happens?”
Before Yeonjun could respond, both their phones buzzed simultaneously. The noise cut through their argument like a knife, grabbing their attention.
“What now?” Beomgyu grumbled, checking his phone. His eyes widened as he stared at the screen. “Yeonjun, look at this.”
Yeonjun snatched his phone and saw a live video feed playing. The scene was unsettling—a dark, confined space with only a dim light flickering at the top. The camera was shaky, and in the middle of the frame, Jaehyun lay on the floor of what appeared to be a wooden casket, his face pale and sweat-drenched.
“Jaehyun!” Yeonjun shouted, his voice trembling as he watched Jaehyun struggle to move. He was clearly in distress, his breathing rapid and panicked.
Beomgyu’s eyes darted over the screen, catching the details of the gruesome situation. Jaehyun’s shirt was stained with blood, and he had a deep wound in his stomach. His movements were weak, barely able to push against the confines of the casket.
“I can’t believe this,” Beomgyu said, his voice barely a whisper. “We need to do something.”
Yeonjun, his face a mix of horror and determination, started pacing. “The killer wants us to find him. This is a trap. We have to get to him before it’s too late.”
“Where is this place?” Beomgyu asked, glancing between the feed and his phone’s map application, trying to pinpoint the location.
“It looks like an old burial ground or something,” Yeonjun said, his mind racing. “There’s a cemetery not far from here. I think that’s where it might be.”
Without another word, both of them grabbed their coats and raced out of the house, their minds focused on the live feed and the urgency of the situation. The night was cold and dark, but their determination burned bright as they drove towards the cemetery, their hearts pounding with fear for their friend.
As they approached the desolate location, the landscape became eerily familiar, the gravestones casting long shadows in the moonlight. The feed on their phones continued, showing Jaehyun’s desperate attempts to free himself, his eyes wide with fear as he looked up at the small, barred light above him.
They arrived at the cemetery, their breaths visible in the chilly air. The sound of their footsteps was muffled by the thick grass and dirt beneath them. Yeonjun and Beomgyu hurried through the cemetery, guided by the feed and their frantic hearts, hoping they would arrive in time to save Jaehyun from the grave.
“Come on, come on!” Yeonjun urged, his voice cracking with desperation.
Beomgyu’s eyes scanned the surroundings, trying to match the scene in the feed with the real world. “It has to be here somewhere. Look for anything that seems out of place!”
As they approached a secluded area of the cemetery, they spotted a partially hidden wooden casket among the overgrown weeds. The sight of it sent a shiver down their spines.
“There!” Beomgyu pointed, his hand shaking as he reached for the casket. “We’ve got to get him out.”
They worked quickly, their hands trembling as they pried open the casket’s lid.
"It can't be..." Yeonjun exclaimed, seeing an empty casket underneath them.
======================================================
Inside the confines of the buried coffin, Jaehyun’s breaths came out in sharp, shallow gasps. The claustrophobic darkness pressed in around him, made even more eerie by the artificial glow of LED lights that flickered overhead, casting strange shadows on the walls. The tight, constricting space was a harsh reminder of his dire predicament.
Jaehyun's mind raced as he tried to calm his panicking breaths. Each inhale felt like it was drawing more precious oxygen from the rapidly diminishing supply. He tried to focus on the faint, soothing glow of the lights, but the weight of the earth pressing down above him made it difficult to think clearly.
In his desperate bid for comfort, his thoughts drifted to Zhang Hao. The thought of his presence, even if imagined, provided a sliver of solace.
"Zhang Hao," he whispered to himself, his voice trembling as he looked around the tiny space. "If you were here... I wouldn't be so scared."
He imagined Zhang Hao beside him, the comforting warmth of his body, and the reassuring presence of his voice. It was a mental escape from the suffocating terror of the coffin.
"Hey," Jaehyun murmured aloud, "remember that time we were at the carnival? I thought you looked... well, you know, amazing in that outfit."
The memory of Zhang Hao’s smile at the carnival seemed to offer some comfort amidst the encroaching panic. Jaehyun's eyes welled up with tears, a mix of fear and sadness clouding his vision.
“I need you here,” Jaehyun said, his voice cracking. “I need you to help me get out of this...”
His breaths came quicker as the air thinned. He reached out in the darkness, his hand brushing the walls of the coffin. The weight of the situation crashed over him, and he tried to focus on the tiny, distant hope that someone would come—Beomgyu and Yeonjun, the ones he knew would understand, would come for him.
Back outside, Beomgyu and Yeonjun had their phones open, their eyes glued to the live feed from the camera in Jaehyun’s casket. Beomgyu's face was pale, his knuckles white as he gripped his phone tightly. Yeonjun’s hands trembled as he stared at the screen, trying to process the horrifying sight before them.
“We need to find him,” Yeonjun said urgently, his voice strained. “We have to get him out.”
Beomgyu nodded, his expression grim. “We need to move. Now. He doesn’t have much time.”
The urgency in their voices was matched by the frantic movements as they quickly gathered their things, racing out of the house and into the night. The thought of Jaehyun’s struggling form in the coffin fueled their desperation, pushing them to find the location where he was buried before it was too late.
======================================================
Sheriff Jiwoong sat hunched over his desk, the dim light of the desk lamp casting a warm glow over the mountain of paperwork that had consumed his evening. The ticking clock on the wall was a constant reminder of how late it was, but he couldn’t afford to stop—not when the town was teetering on the edge of chaos.
He sighed heavily, rubbing his tired eyes as he scanned through yet another report. The pages blurred together, a mess of words that barely made sense in his exhausted state. But he kept going, determined to get through it all before the night was over.
The sudden ring of his phone sliced through the quiet, jolting him out of his focus. Jiwoong frowned, reaching for the phone with a weary hand. The caller ID simply read “UNKNOWN.”
A spike of unease shot through him as he hesitated for a moment, then answered the call. “Sheriff Jiwoong speaking.”
A distorted voice crackled through the line, sending a chill down his spine. “Sheriff,” the voice drawled, dripping with a mocking tone. “Busy night?”
Jiwoong’s grip on the phone tightened. He’d dealt with prank calls before, but something about this one felt different—more sinister. “Who is this?” he demanded, keeping his voice steady.
The voice chuckled darkly. “Just someone who knows a thing or two about what’s really going on in your little town.”
Jiwoong’s eyes narrowed, suspicion flaring. “If you have something to say, say it. I don’t have time for games.”
“Oh, but this isn’t a game, Sheriff,” the voice replied, the tone turning serious. “You might want to check out the old barn off Route 7. Let’s just say... there’s some shady stuff going down there tonight.”
Jiwoong’s heart skipped a beat. The barn off Route 7 had been abandoned for years, a relic from a time long past. If something was happening there, it couldn’t be anything good.
“What’s going on at the barn?” Jiwoong asked, his voice sharp.
The voice on the other end of the line gave another eerie laugh. “Why don’t you find out for yourself? But you’d better hurry... time’s running out.”
Before Jiwoong could respond, the line went dead, leaving him staring at the phone in his hand. A sense of dread settled in the pit of his stomach, and he quickly stood up, grabbing his jacket and gun.
He moved with purpose, the fatigue from earlier forgotten as adrenaline kicked in. He didn’t know who had called, but he wasn’t about to ignore the tip. If there was something happening at the barn, he needed to be there.
Within minutes, Jiwoong was out the door, the cold night air hitting him as he headed for his car. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that this was a trap, but he had no choice. He had to find out what was going on at the barn—before it was too late.
======================================================
Beomgyu and Yeonjun stood side by side, their breaths visible in the cool night air as they stared at the weathered barn in front of them. The place was steeped in memories—some good, some painful—but tonight, it felt like a nightmare brought to life.
"This is it," Beomgyu said quietly, breaking the silence. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the daffodil they had found pinned behind Jaehyun’s murder board. It had been a strange and chilling clue, one that led them back to this very place from their childhood. A barn that had once been a sanctuary but now felt like a crypt.
Yeonjun shivered, and not just from the cold. "I remember when we used to come here," he murmured, his eyes fixed on the barn. "You spent all that time making sure the horses didn’t eat the daffodils. And I... I just sat there thinking about my mom."
Beomgyu nodded, a shadow crossing his face as the memories flooded back. "We were just kids, trying to keep it together." He glanced over at Yeonjun, noticing the tension in his friend’s posture. "But this... this is different. Something’s wrong."
They both took a hesitant step forward, the gravel crunching underfoot. As they approached the barn, the sense of dread only deepened. The wooden structure, once so familiar, now loomed ominously in the darkness. The faint scent of hay and earth lingered in the air, mingling with the sharp tang of fear.
Beomgyu stopped short, his eyes narrowing as they fell on the doors. “Wait,” he whispered, grabbing Yeonjun’s arm to halt him.
Yeonjun followed Beomgyu’s gaze and felt his stomach drop. There, barring the doors shut, was an old, rusted scythe. The blade gleamed in the moonlight, casting eerie shadows across the barn’s entrance. It was wedged firmly in place, as if daring anyone to try and remove it.
“What the hell...?” Yeonjun breathed, his voice trembling. “Who would...?”
Beomgyu didn’t answer right away. His heart pounded in his chest, the sound of it loud in his ears. “It’s a warning,” he finally said, his voice low and tense. “Someone doesn’t want us in there.”
“But why here?” Yeonjun asked, his eyes wide with confusion and fear. “Why would they use this barn, of all places?”
“I don’t know,” Beomgyu admitted, though his mind was racing with possibilities, none of them good. “But whatever’s inside, it’s not something they want us to see.”
Yeonjun took a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. “We can’t just leave Jaehyun. He’s counting on us.”
“I know,” Beomgyu replied, his voice firm despite the fear gnawing at him. “We’re going in. But we have to be careful.”
With that, Beomgyu stepped forward, reaching out to grasp the handle of the scythe. The metal was cold under his fingers, and for a moment, he hesitated, as if the weight of the weapon was more than just physical. It was as if removing it would unlock something far worse than they could imagine.
Yeonjun stood close by, his eyes darting around the darkened barnyard, half-expecting someone—or something—to leap out at them.
“Ready?” Beomgyu asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Yeonjun swallowed hard and nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
With a grunt, Beomgyu yanked the scythe free, the old wood creaking in protest. The doors shuddered but remained closed. The two boys exchanged a glance, knowing there was no turning back now.
Together, they pushed the heavy doors open, the hinges groaning as they revealed the darkness inside. The barn seemed to exhale a breath of cold air as if it had been holding it in for years, waiting for this very moment.
Beomgyu hesitated at the threshold, the familiar smell of hay and earth replaced by something fouler, something that made his stomach churn. “We need to be quick,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Find Jaehyun and get out.”
Yeonjun nodded, his pulse quickening as they stepped into the shadows, the barn swallowing them whole.
======================================================
The darkness inside the barn was oppressive, the air thick with the stench of decay. Beomgyu and Yeonjun moved cautiously, their footsteps muffled by the dirt floor beneath them. The only light came from the weak beam of a flashlight that Beomgyu had found in his backpack, casting long, flickering shadows that danced eerily across the walls.
As they ventured further in, the sound of buzzing filled their ears. It started faintly but grew louder with each step, a low, droning hum that made Yeonjun’s skin crawl. He shined the flashlight ahead, and his heart skipped a beat.
There, in the middle of the barn, lay a pig’s corpse, bloated and covered in flies. The sight was grotesque, the once-pink flesh now discolored and oozing. The smell hit them like a wave, and Yeonjun had to fight the urge to gag.
“Oh my God,” Yeonjun whispered, his voice trembling with disgust. “What the hell is this?”
Beomgyu’s face twisted in horror as he took in the sight. “It’s a message,” he muttered, his voice tight. “Just like the pig heart. Whoever’s doing this... they’re trying to scare us.”
Yeonjun swallowed hard, trying to push down the bile rising in his throat. “Well, it’s working,” he admitted, his eyes flicking away from the corpse. “Let’s find Jaehyun and get out of here.”
They moved past the corpse, their steps quickening. But as they searched the barn, Yeonjun noticed something lying on a nearby table, partially hidden under a pile of hay. Curious, he brushed the hay aside and froze.
It was a Xeroxed copy of a letter—one that looked painfully familiar. He picked it up with trembling hands, his eyes scanning the words. The paper was yellowed and crumpled, as if it had been read over and over again.
Beomgyu, noticing Yeonjun’s sudden stillness, turned and frowned. “What is it?”
Yeonjun didn’t answer right away. His eyes were glued to the page, his heart sinking with every word he read. It was a letter that Beomgyu had written years ago, back when their friendship had been strained—when Yeonjun had become “pretty” and “popular,” and Beomgyu had felt left behind. The letter was filled with bitterness and hurt, Beomgyu’s words sharp and cutting.
“I can’t believe he’s changed so much,” Beomgyu had written. “He used to be my best friend, but now all he cares about is being popular. It’s like he’s forgotten who he really is. Maybe I don’t even know him anymore.”
Yeonjun’s hands shook as he read the letter, his chest tightening. He felt a wave of hurt wash over him, mingled with anger and confusion.
Beomgyu’s eyes widened when he saw the letter in Yeonjun’s hands. “Yeonjun, wait—” he started, but Yeonjun cut him off.
“Did you really mean this?” Yeonjun asked, his voice quiet but strained. He looked up at Beomgyu, his eyes filled with hurt. “Is this what you thought of me?”
Beomgyu’s heart sank. He recognized the letter immediately, and guilt twisted in his gut. “Yeonjun, that was years ago,” he said, his voice pleading. “I was angry and jealous... I didn’t mean half of what I wrote.”
Yeonjun looked down at the letter again, his expression pained. “But you wrote it, Beomgyu. You really thought I abandoned you.”
Beomgyu reached out, his hand hovering just above Yeonjun’s shoulder. “I was wrong,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “I was scared of losing you, and I took it out on you in the worst way. But I never stopped caring about you, Yeonjun. I never stopped being your friend.”
Yeonjun bit his lip, the words stinging more than he wanted to admit. The hurt was raw, but he knew this wasn’t the time to dwell on it. They had come here to save Jaehyun, not to dig up old wounds.
“Yeonjun,” Beomgyu began, his voice trembling slightly. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I should’ve told you a long time ago.”
Yeonjun paused, turning to look at him. The flickering beam of the flashlight illuminated Beomgyu’s face, revealing the turmoil in his eyes. Yeonjun’s expression was unreadable, his emotions carefully guarded behind a mask of indifference.
“What is it?” Yeonjun asked, his tone cautious.
Beomgyu hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the words bubbling up inside him, the confession that had been buried for years, festering in the dark corners of his mind. He took another deep breath, forcing himself to push through the fear.
“I… I was in love with you, Yeonjun,” Beomgyu finally admitted, his voice cracking under the weight of the confession. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. And when you started pulling away from me, when you became this different person… it broke my heart.”
The words hung in the air like a heavy fog, suffocating and inescapable. Yeonjun’s eyes widened slightly, his breath catching in his throat. He wasn’t sure what he had expected Beomgyu to say, but it certainly wasn’t this.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Yeonjun stood there, slack-jawed and staring at Beomgyu with a blank expression. His mind raced, trying to process the revelation, but all he could feel was a numbness spreading through him, dulling his senses.
“You… were in love with me?” Yeonjun finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.
Beomgyu nodded, his gaze fixed on the floor, unable to meet Yeonjun’s eyes. “I was,” he repeated, his voice filled with sadness. “And you broke my heart. But I never told you because I was too afraid. I thought if I kept it to myself, I could just get over it, and we could go back to being friends. But that never happened. I couldn’t just… stop loving you.”
Yeonjun swallowed hard, his throat dry. He didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know what to say to make this better. All he could do was stand there, his mind reeling from the weight of Beomgyu’s confession. The silence stretched on, oppressive and uncomfortable.
Beomgyu finally looked up, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know this is a lot,” he said, his voice barely holding together. “But I needed you to know. I needed to tell you because… because I don’t know what’s going to happen next. And I don’t want to die with this secret still inside me.”
Yeonjun felt a lump form in his throat, the reality of their situation crashing down on him. They were in the middle of a nightmare, being hunted by a killer, and here was Beomgyu, laying his heart bare in the most vulnerable way possible. And all Yeonjun could do was stand there, frozen, unable to offer any comfort.
“I’m sorry,” Yeonjun whispered, his voice hoarse. It was all he could manage, but it felt so inadequate. So empty.
Beomgyu forced a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s okay,” he said, even though it wasn’t. “I didn’t expect anything from you. I just… I just wanted you to know.”
Yeonjun nodded slowly, the numbness in his chest growing. He wanted to say something more, something that would make this easier, but the words just wouldn’t come. Instead, he reached out and gently squeezed Beomgyu’s shoulder, a silent acknowledgment of everything that had just been said.
“Let’s just find Jaehyun,” Yeonjun said quietly, his voice heavy with emotion. “We can talk more after… after all this.”
Beomgyu nodded, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Yeah,” he agreed, his voice thick. “Let’s go.”
As they continued their search for Jaehyun, the barn seemed colder, darker. The confession hung between them like a shadow, a reminder of the love that had once been there and the heartbreak that had followed. And though they walked side by side, they both knew that things would never be the same again.
======================================================
The barn was filled with the stench of decay, the air thick and oppressive as Beomgyu and Yeonjun moved cautiously through the shadows. The distant sounds of creaking wood and buzzing flies created an eerie soundtrack to their search. Then, suddenly, they heard it—a muffled scream, desperate and frantic, cutting through the silence like a knife.
"Jaehyun!" Yeonjun shouted, his heart pounding in his chest. He scanned the area, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound. It was faint but unmistakable, and it was coming from beneath the grotesque pig carcass in the corner of the barn.
Without a second thought, the two boys rushed over, adrenaline surging through their veins. Beomgyu gagged at the sight of the rotting pig, but he pushed through the nausea, grabbing onto the corpse and heaving it to the side. Beneath it, dirt was packed tightly over a small wooden door—a makeshift trapdoor, crudely disguised.
"Hurry!" Yeonjun urged, his voice tight with panic as they frantically began digging with their hands, pulling away the earth until they uncovered the edges of a coffin.
It was Jaehyun's coffin, a sinister box of death that had been buried just deep enough to suffocate him slowly. The screams were louder now, raw and terrified, and Beomgyu and Yeonjun worked together to pry the lid open. The wood splintered under their fingers, and with one final wrench, the coffin lid gave way.
Jaehyun lay inside, gasping for breath, his face pale and drenched in sweat. His eyes were wild with fear as he struggled to sit up, gulping in the fresh air. "Oh my God…" he whispered, his voice hoarse and shaky. "I thought I was going to die in there."
Yeonjun reached down, pulling Jaehyun up and out of the coffin. "You're okay now," he said, his voice a mix of relief and urgency. "We got you. You're safe."
But just as Jaehyun clambered out, another sound reached their ears—a different kind of scream, muffled but distinct, coming from directly beneath the coffin they had just exhumed. The three of them froze, exchanging bewildered glances.
"Did you hear that?" Beomgyu asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jaehyun nodded, his expression stricken. "There’s something else down there," he said, his voice filled with dread.
They quickly pushed the coffin aside, uncovering another layer of dirt. They dug with renewed urgency, their hands moving faster as they uncovered a second, smaller casket. It was eerily similar to Jaehyun's, but this one was different—there was no body inside. Instead, it contained a cell phone, the screen glowing in the darkness.
"What the hell…?" Yeonjun breathed as he picked up the phone, his hands trembling.
On the screen was a live feed, the image shaky and blurred with mud. But there was no mistaking what they were seeing—Zhang Hao, trapped in a coffin just like Jaehyun’s, the dirt packed tightly around him. His face was streaked with mud, his eyes wide with fear as he pounded against the wooden lid. His screams were raw and desperate, echoing through the barn.
"No… no, no, no!" Jaehyun cried out, his voice breaking as he watched the screen, horror etched on his face. "We have to save him!"
Beomgyu's mind raced, his heart hammering in his chest. The killer was playing with them, leading them from one nightmare to the next. And now Zhang Hao was buried alive, just like Jaehyun had been—only this time, they didn’t know where he was.
"Zhang Hao!" Yeonjun shouted into the phone, as if somehow the signal would carry his voice to where Zhang Hao was buried. "We're coming for you, just hang on!"
But the screen flickered, the signal faltering. Zhang Hao’s screams grew fainter, his struggle more frantic as the oxygen in his coffin ran out. Panic surged through them all, a cold, unrelenting terror that settled deep in their bones.
"Where is he?" Jaehyun demanded, his voice shaking with fear and anger. "We have to find him, we can’t let him die!"
"We will," Beomgyu said, his voice steely with determination. "But we need to think. The killer is trying to mess with us, but there has to be a clue… something that tells us where Zhang Hao is buried."
Yeonjun’s mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of the puzzle. The barn, the letters, the daffodils—everything pointed to this place, but the killer wouldn’t just leave Zhang Hao here. It was a game, a twisted game that they were being forced to play.
"We need to check the phone’s location," Yeonjun said, his voice tight with resolve. "There has to be a GPS signal, something that tells us where the feed is coming from."
Jaehyun nodded frantically, his hands shaking as he tried to navigate the phone’s settings. "Come on, come on…" he muttered under his breath, the tension almost unbearable.
Finally, the screen lit up with a location—a set of coordinates, just on the outskirts of town. The boys exchanged a look of grim determination, their fear momentarily pushed aside by the urgency of the situation.
"Let’s go," Beomgyu said, his voice steady. "We don’t have much time."
With that, they raced out of the barn, the phone clutched tightly in Jaehyun’s hand as they sped towards their next destination. Zhang Hao’s life hung in the balance, and they knew that if they didn’t reach him in time, the killer would claim another victim. But deep down, each of them wondered—was this just another part of the game, or would they really find Zhang Hao before it was too late?
======================================================
The car tore through the night, headlights cutting through the darkness as Yeonjun, Beomgyu, and Jaehyun raced towards the lake. The coordinates from the phone had led them here, the place they all dreaded but feared they knew too well. The air was thick with tension, every second stretching into eternity as they sped along the narrow roads, the lake looming closer.
“He has to be here,” Jaehyun muttered, more to himself than anyone else, his knuckles white as he gripped the phone. “We’re so close…”
Yeonjun didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the road, his mind racing with the possibilities. What if they were too late? What if this was all just another sick trick? But he couldn’t let himself think that way—not when Zhang Hao’s life was on the line.
The car screeched to a halt at the edge of the lake, the boys jumping out before the engine had even fully died. The night was eerily quiet, the water still and black like a mirror reflecting their worst fears.
“There!” Beomgyu shouted, pointing to a patch of freshly disturbed earth near the shoreline. The ground had been hastily covered, the soil uneven and loose. It was exactly the kind of place someone might hide something—or someone.
They didn’t waste a second. Yeonjun and Beomgyu fell to their knees, digging frantically with their hands, while Jaehyun stood back, clutching the phone as if it were a lifeline. The dirt was cold and wet, clinging to their fingers as they dug deeper, desperation fueling their every movement.
“He has to be here… he has to be…” Beomgyu’s voice was barely a whisper, strained with the effort of digging and the hope that Zhang Hao might still be alive.
But as they dug deeper, their hands hit something solid—a wooden surface, splintered and rough. The coffin. It was just like the one Jaehyun had been trapped in, only smaller, and their hearts sank as they realized how shallow the grave really was.
“Get it open!” Jaehyun yelled, the panic in his voice rising. “We have to get him out!”
Yeonjun’s hands shook as he pried at the edges of the lid, fingers slipping on the damp wood. With a final, desperate wrench, the coffin lid cracked open, revealing the lifeless body inside.
Zhang Hao’s face was pale, his eyes closed as if in sleep, but there was no mistaking the stillness of his chest, the lifelessness of his form. His clothes were caked in mud, his hair matted to his forehead, and there was a peacefulness in his expression that only deepened the horror of the scene.
“No… no, no, no!” Jaehyun’s voice broke as he dropped to his knees beside the coffin, his hands reaching out to touch Zhang Hao’s cold skin. The realization hit them all at once—the video on the phone hadn’t been live. It had been a replay. Zhang Hao had been dead for a while.
“We’re too late,” Beomgyu whispered, his voice hollow as he stared at Zhang Hao’s lifeless form. The weight of their failure pressed down on him, suffocating in its finality. “He’s gone…”
Yeonjun clenched his fists, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to hold back the tears that stung his eyes. All this time, they’d been racing against the clock, clinging to the hope that they could save him. But the killer had played them, taunting them with a false sense of urgency, leading them on a wild chase that had ended in tragedy.
Jaehyun sobbed openly, his body trembling as he leaned over the coffin, his hands clutching at Zhang Hao’s cold fingers. “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry…” he choked out, his voice breaking with every word. The guilt was overwhelming, the weight of knowing they had been too late unbearable.
Yeonjun placed a hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder, his own grief mirrored in the tightness of his jaw, the tears that finally spilled over. “It’s not your fault,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s the killer. They did this… they’re the one who killed him.”
“But we couldn’t save him,” Jaehyun whispered, his voice small and broken. “We couldn’t save him…”
The three boys stood there in the cold night air, their hearts shattered by the cruel reality that had been forced upon them. The lake was silent, a dark void that seemed to swallow their grief, their anger, their despair. And somewhere out there, the killer was watching, knowing they had won this round, knowing they had once again claimed a life.
Zhang Hao was gone, and with him, a piece of their hope died too.
======================================================
Sheriff Jiwoong pulled up to the barn, his headlights slicing through the darkness that seemed to cling to the old structure like a bad memory. The tip-off from the killer had left him on edge, and he’d driven faster than he should have, his heart pounding with a sense of foreboding. As he stepped out of the car, the silence of the night felt oppressive, the only sound the crunch of gravel beneath his boots as he approached the barn.
The doors creaked ominously as he pushed them open, the hinges protesting with a shrill screech. Inside, the air was thick with the stench of decay, a rancid smell that hit him like a wall. His hand instinctively moved to cover his nose and mouth, his eyes narrowing as they adjusted to the dim light filtering through the gaps in the weathered wood.
At first glance, the barn seemed empty, just a relic of the past, long abandoned and left to rot. But as Jiwoong’s eyes traveled upward, he saw it—a grotesque display of the killer’s handiwork, hanging from the rafters like some twisted piece of modern art.
“Oh, hell…” Jiwoong muttered, his voice tight as he took a cautious step closer, his flashlight illuminating the gruesome scene.
Suspended from the rafters was the pig carcass, its body bloated and covered in flies. But the pig wasn’t the only thing hanging there. Next to it, swinging gently with the faint breeze that slipped through the cracks in the barn, was a severed human hand. The skin was pale, the fingers stiff in death, and the wrist had been crudely hacked, the edges ragged and uneven. And as if to add a final, macabre touch, a tiara had been placed atop the pig’s head, the delicate metal now tarnished and stained with blood.
Jiwoong felt his stomach churn, a wave of nausea threatening to overwhelm him. The killer had turned the barn into a grotesque gallery, each piece carefully arranged to send a message—one that was clear and horrifyingly direct.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm, to keep his mind clear. This wasn’t just a crime scene; it was a taunt, a sick joke meant to unsettle him, to throw him off balance. The killer had known he would come, had left this grisly display as a challenge.
As Jiwoong circled the hanging figures, his eyes scanned the ground, looking for any clue, any detail that might help him understand what the killer was trying to say. The hand… it had been severed cleanly enough that he could tell it wasn’t done in the heat of the moment. This had been premeditated, methodical.
His gaze fell on the tiara, and a chill ran down his spine. This wasn’t just a random object—it was a symbol. The upcoming Prince of the Lake beauty pageant was a big deal in town, and the killer had taken something so innocent, so celebratory, and twisted it into something dark, something that mocked the very idea of beauty and grace.
“They’re playing with us,” Jiwoong murmured to himself, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. The killer was toying with them, each murder, each display more elaborate and more personal than the last. They were building towards something, something big, and Jiwoong couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever it was, it would tear the town apart.
He reached for his radio, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. “This is Sheriff Jiwoong. I need backup at the old Smithson barn. We’ve got another scene here… and it’s bad.”
As he waited for the response, Jiwoong took one last look at the hanging display, his mind racing. The killer was escalating, their cruelty and creativity knowing no bounds. And Jiwoong knew that if they didn’t stop them soon, more lives would be lost, more nightmares would be born.
The tiara gleamed dully in the weak light, a twisted crown for a queen of death.
======================================================
Tiffany stood in the shadow of the old tree, the one that had been their meeting spot all those years ago. The bark was rough under her fingers as she traced the familiar grooves, her mind racing with memories of a time she’d tried to forget. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the clearing, and the cool evening air sent a shiver down her spine.
She glanced around, making sure she was alone, before crouching down beside the tree. Hidden in the roots was a small, weathered cubby hole—just big enough to fit a few folded notes, a makeshift mailbox from when they were teenagers, sneaking messages back and forth under the noses of everyone who knew them.
Tiffany pulled a piece of paper from her pocket, the note she’d written in a shaky hand. It felt surreal, like she’d been transported back in time, reliving the secrecy and fear that had hung over them back then. Only now, the stakes were so much higher. She unfolded the note one last time, her eyes skimming over the words she’d written:
_"Brandon, if you’re out there, stay away from Yeonjun. This is between us—don’t drag him into it. You owe me that much."_
She hesitated, the pen still in her other hand, before scrawling one more line beneath the first:
_"Don’t make me regret this."_
Tiffany folded the note carefully and tucked it into the cubby hole, pressing it deep into the roots where it would be safe from the elements—and from prying eyes. As she stood, the weight of what she was doing settled over her, heavy and suffocating. She couldn’t believe it had come to this, but the killer’s recent actions had left her no choice.
She turned and started back toward her car, her thoughts swirling. The gruesome scene at the barn had been the last straw. The pig carcass, the severed hand, the tiara—it all pointed to something personal, something that was meant for her and Jiwoong alone. And now, the terrifying possibility that Brandon James was still alive and out for revenge had her on edge.
But even as she tried to piece it all together, there was a part of her that didn’t want to believe it. Brandon James had been dead for years… or so she’d thought. The idea that he could be back, tormenting them, was too horrifying to accept. But the killer knew things—details about that night at the pier that no one else could have known. That’s why she was here, leaving this desperate message, hoping against hope that it might reach the right person.
As she reached her car, she glanced back at the tree, feeling a knot of dread tighten in her stomach. The secrets she and Jiwoong had buried were starting to resurface, and she feared they would drag everyone she cared about down with them. The past had a way of catching up, and Tiffany knew that whatever happened next, she couldn’t let Yeonjun be caught in the crossfire.
She drove away with a heavy heart, her mind replaying that fateful night. The image of Brandon James, lying on the pier, blood pooling around him as they stood there frozen, would forever haunt her. They hadn’t helped him then, and now it seemed like their sins were coming back to claim their due.
Back at the station, Jiwoong was pacing his office, running through the clues in his head, trying to make sense of the killer’s motives. His thoughts kept circling back to the barn, to the way the killer had staged that macabre display. It was a message, one that was becoming increasingly clear: the killer was playing a game, and Tiffany and he were the main players.
When Tiffany finally returned, Jiwoong looked up, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly at the sight of her. But the worry in her eyes told him that she hadn’t found any comfort on her trip down memory lane.
“I left the note,” she said quietly, closing the door behind her. “If Brandon’s out there, he’ll find it.”
Jiwoong nodded, though the uneasy feeling in his gut didn’t subside. “And if he’s not?”
Tiffany sighed, sinking into a chair. “Then we’ve got bigger problems than we thought.”
Jiwoong sat down across from her, his expression grim. “We need to figure out what the killer wants—why they’re dredging this all up now. And we need to do it fast, before anyone else gets hurt.”
Tiffany met his gaze, determination hardening her features. “Whatever happens, we have to protect Yeonjun. This is our mess, Jiwoong. We have to clean it up.”
The sheriff leaned back in his chair, the weight of the past pressing down on him. “Let’s just hope we’re not too late.”
As the night wore on, they both knew that the past wasn’t done with them yet. And somewhere out there, the killer was watching, waiting for their next move.
Chapter 21: Heavenly Creatures
Chapter Text
The night was still, the only sounds the soft creaks and groans of the old house settling into the coolness of the evening. A figure moved silently through the darkened halls, the black clothing blending seamlessly with the shadows. The killer's footsteps were nearly inaudible, a predator stalking its prey.
In the master bedroom, Tiffany lay asleep, unaware of the danger creeping just outside her door. The killer paused, hand resting on the doorknob for a moment as if considering. But after a brief hesitation, the figure moved on, gliding past Tiffany’s room and down the hall toward Yeonjun’s.
The door to Yeonjun’s room was slightly ajar, just enough for the killer to slip inside without making a sound. Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting faint, ghostly shapes across the walls. The room was a mix of the familiar and the unsettling—posters and personal items that reflected Yeonjun's life, but with an undercurrent of unease, a sense that something was out of place.
The killer’s eyes swept the room, finally landing on a small notebook on the nightstand: Yeonjun’s dream diary. It was bound in worn leather, its edges frayed from years of use. The killer reached out, gloved fingers closing around the book, feeling the weight of it, the secrets it contained.
As the killer flipped through the pages, skimming Yeonjun's handwriting, a dark satisfaction curled at the corners of their lips. The diary was filled with fragments of dreams, fears, and unspoken thoughts—an intimate map of Yeonjun's mind. The killer’s eyes lingered on certain passages, taking in every detail before carefully closing the book and slipping it into a pocket.
Before leaving, the killer produced a small wooden necklace, simple yet intricate in its design. The pendant was carved with Yeonjun’s name in delicate, precise lettering, the wood polished smooth. The killer set the necklace on Yeonjun’s pillow, the contrast between the warmth of the wood and the coldness of their intent a bitter irony.
Without a sound, the killer turned and exited the room, retracing their steps down the hallway and out of the house. The night swallowed them whole, leaving no trace of their presence—except for the missing diary and the wooden necklace that now lay waiting for Yeonjun to find.
Yeonjun awoke the next morning, the remnants of a dream slipping away as he opened his eyes. For a moment, he lay still, staring up at the ceiling, trying to recall the images that had just been in his mind. But the details were elusive, fading with each passing second.
As he rolled over, Yeonjun’s hand brushed against something unfamiliar on his pillow. He blinked, focusing on the small wooden object lying there. The necklace was simple, but as he picked it up, he felt a chill run down his spine. His name was carved into the wood—clear, precise, unmistakable.
Confused, Yeonjun sat up, the necklace dangling from his fingers. He had no memory of owning anything like this. Who would have left it here? And why? His gaze flicked to the nightstand, and his confusion deepened when he noticed something else: his dream diary was missing.
A sense of unease settled over him as he scanned the room. Nothing else seemed out of place, but the absence of the diary, coupled with the mysterious necklace, set his nerves on edge.
“Tiffany?” Yeonjun called out, hoping his mom might have some explanation. But there was no answer. He slid out of bed, clutching the necklace tightly as he made his way to the door. He glanced back at his room one last time, a creeping sense of dread tightening in his chest.
Tiffany was in the kitchen, sipping her morning coffee when Yeonjun found her. She looked up, smiling when she saw him, but her smile faltered when she noticed the look on his face.
“Mom, did you come into my room last night?” Yeonjun asked, holding up the necklace.
Tiffany frowned, shaking her head. “No, I didn’t. Why? What’s that?”
Yeonjun hesitated, then handed her the necklace. “I found it on my pillow this morning. And… my dream diary is gone.”
Tiffany’s brow furrowed as she examined the necklace. “This wasn’t me, Yeonjun. Are you sure you didn’t just misplace your diary?”
Yeonjun shook his head. “No, it’s always on my nightstand. Someone was in my room, Mom.”
The color drained from Tiffany’s face as she handed the necklace back to him. “We need to call Jiwoong.”
But as she reached for her phone, Yeonjun stared down at the necklace in his hand, a sinking feeling in his gut. Whoever had been in his room last night, they’d left more than just a necklace—they’d left a message. And he had a feeling it was only the beginning.
======================================================
The police arrived quickly, their flashing lights cutting through the early morning gloom as they descended upon Yeonjun’s house. Tiffany stood by the front door, her face pale, her hands trembling slightly as she spoke with Sheriff Jiwoong. Inside, officers moved swiftly, combing through the rooms, looking for any signs of forced entry, anything that might explain the disappearance of Yeonjun’s diary and the sudden appearance of the wooden necklace.
Yeonjun sat on the couch, the necklace still clutched in his hand. His mind was racing, trying to piece together what had happened, but all he could feel was a growing sense of dread. The house felt different now, invaded, unsafe. He kept glancing toward the hallway that led to his room, half-expecting someone to emerge from the shadows.
As he sat there, lost in thought, the front door suddenly burst open. Soobin barreled inside, his eyes wide with concern, his hair still messy from sleep. “I came as soon as I heard!” he exclaimed, his voice breathless and urgent.
Yeonjun looked up, surprised to see him, but relieved at the same time. “Soobin… how did you know?”
Soobin hurried over, his gaze scanning the room, taking in the tense atmosphere and the presence of the police. “I got a text from your mom. I… I just had to come.”
Yeonjun nodded, his grip tightening on the necklace. “Someone was in my room last night. They left this on my pillow… and they took my dream diary.”
Soobin’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the necklace, then back at Yeonjun. “This is bad. Really bad. Do they think it was… you know, the killer?”
Before Yeonjun could answer, Sheriff Jiwoong approached, his expression grim. He looked between the two boys, then focused on Yeonjun. “We’ve searched the house. No signs of forced entry. Whoever did this knew what they were doing.”
Yeonjun swallowed hard. “What about the necklace? Any prints or…?”
Jiwoong shook his head. “We’ll have to take it in for further analysis, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up. This person is careful.”
Soobin stepped closer to Yeonjun, a protective look in his eyes. “What do we do now?”
The sheriff sighed, glancing toward Tiffany, who was watching the exchange with a worried frown. “We’ll increase patrols in the area, but for now, it’s important you stay alert. If anything else strange happens, call us immediately.”
Tiffany nodded, her voice shaky as she spoke. “We will. But… what do you think this means? The necklace, the diary… is it some kind of threat?”
Jiwoong hesitated, then spoke carefully. “It’s possible. This might be the killer’s way of sending a message. We’ll do everything we can to find out what that message is.”
Yeonjun felt a chill run down his spine. The thought of someone being in his room, reading his most private thoughts, made his skin crawl. And the necklace… it felt personal, like a taunt.
As the officers continued their work, Soobin sat down next to Yeonjun, his presence a small comfort amidst the chaos. “We’ll figure this out,” Soobin said quietly, his voice steady. “You’re not alone in this.”
Yeonjun nodded, leaning slightly into Soobin’s side, grateful for the support. But even as he tried to calm his racing thoughts, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something far more dangerous.
======================================================
The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air as Jaehyun lay in his hospital bed, a stark contrast to the chaotic nightmare that had unfolded outside. The room was dimly lit, the only sounds the occasional beep of the heart monitor and the soft murmur of the hospital staff in the hallway. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor did little to soothe Jaehyun’s shattered state.
He stared blankly at the ceiling, the memory of Zhang Hao’s final moments haunting him. The image of his first love trapped in that casket, his voice faint and desperate, replayed in his mind like a cruel loop. Jaehyun’s eyes, usually full of life, were now hollow and distant.
The door creaked open, and Soobin stepped inside, carrying a bouquet of mylar balloons and a latté. He forced a small, sympathetic smile as he entered, hoping to offer some semblance of comfort. Behind him, Yeonjun trailed, his face etched with concern. They both knew that no gesture, no matter how well-intentioned, could erase the pain Jaehyun was feeling.
Soobin carefully placed the balloons on a nearby chair and set the latté on the bedside table. “Hey, Jaehyun,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady. “I brought you some balloons and a coffee. Thought it might cheer you up a bit.”
Jaehyun’s gaze shifted to the items, his expression unchanged. He didn’t reach for the coffee or even acknowledge the balloons. “Thanks,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes returned to the ceiling, lost in his thoughts.
Yeonjun moved closer, pulling up a chair and sitting beside the bed. He glanced at Soobin, who seemed to be at a loss for words. “Jaehyun,” Yeonjun began gently, “I know it’s not much, but we’re here for you. If you need to talk… or if you just need someone to sit with you, we’re here.”
Jaehyun’s lips twitched in a faint, almost imperceptible smile. “I don’t know what to say,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I keep seeing Zhang Hao’s face. I thought… I thought we’d have more time. I didn’t expect it to end like this.”
Soobin took a deep breath, his eyes meeting Yeonjun’s for a moment before he spoke. “None of us expected this,” he said quietly. “It’s okay to feel this way. We all do. Just… let us be here with you. We can’t take away what happened, but we can be here, every step of the way.”
Jaehyun closed his eyes, trying to block out the haunting memories. The mylar balloons and the latté seemed inconsequential compared to the grief that weighed heavily on his chest. Still, having Soobin and Yeonjun there provided a small, fragile comfort amidst the crushing despair.
He managed to whisper, “I don’t know how to move on from this.”
Yeonjun reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just take it one step at a time. We’ll help you through it.”
Jaehyun nodded slowly, his eyes still closed. For now, the presence of his friends was the only solace he had, a tiny light in the darkness that had enveloped his world. As he clung to that small comfort, he hoped that, in time, the pain might become more bearable, if only a little.
======================================================
Jaehyun lay back in his hospital bed, staring at the ceiling as he mustered the strength to speak. The memories of Zhang Hao’s death and the terror he had experienced were still fresh, but something in him had shifted. The obsession that had once consumed him, the drive to solve the murders and piece together every clue, now felt like a poison he needed to purge from his life.
“Guys,” Jaehyun began, his voice hoarse but determined, “I need you to do something for me.”
Soobin and Yeonjun, who had been sitting quietly at his bedside, leaned in, listening intently.
“Go to my house,” Jaehyun continued, his eyes flickering with a hint of resolve. “Go into my room… and take down the murder wall. Get rid of all of it. The photos, the notes, the maps… everything. I’m done with it.”
Soobin exchanged a glance with Yeonjun, unsure of what to say. They both knew how much time and energy Jaehyun had poured into his investigation, how it had become a part of who he was. But seeing him now, beaten down by grief and trauma, they understood. It was time for a change.
“Are you sure?” Yeonjun asked gently. “I mean… that wall was your life’s work.”
Jaehyun nodded, his expression unwavering. “I’m sure. I don’t want any more of this. I can’t keep living like this, surrounded by death. Please, just… get rid of it.”
Soobin placed a comforting hand on Jaehyun’s arm. “We’ll take care of it,” he promised. “You focus on getting better.”
With that, the two boys left the hospital, determined to carry out Jaehyun’s wishes. The drive to Jaehyun’s house was quiet, each of them lost in their thoughts. When they finally arrived, they made their way up to his bedroom, the familiar sight of the murder wall looming before them.
It was a chaotic collage of photos, newspaper clippings, strings connecting dots, and scribbled notes—Jaehyun’s attempt to make sense of the senseless. They started dismantling it, carefully pulling down each piece and stacking them in a box.
As Yeonjun worked on the wall, Soobin moved to the other side of the room, where Jaehyun had kept a collection of old files and artifacts related to the murders. He began sorting through the pile, discarding anything that seemed too gruesome or painful to keep. It was a cathartic process, each item tossed into the trash feeling like a step closer to freeing Jaehyun from the darkness that had overtaken him.
But then, something caught Soobin’s eye.
“Hey, Yeonjun,” he called out, holding up an old newspaper clipping. “Look at this.”
Yeonjun paused what he was doing and walked over, taking the clipping from Soobin’s hand. It was an article about Woonhak’s funeral from a few months back. The headline was typical enough, detailing the somber ceremony and the town’s collective grief. But in the background of one of the photos, a figure stood out—Jiung, lurking at the edge of the crowd.
“Jiung?” Yeonjun frowned, studying the image closely. “Why would he be at Woonhak’s funeral?”
Soobin shrugged, a puzzled expression on his face. “I don’t know. I don’t remember him mentioning anything about knowing Woonhak.”
Yeonjun stared at the clipping, his mind racing. “This doesn’t make sense… Jaehyun must have missed this, or maybe he didn’t think it was important. But it’s weird, right? Why would Jiung be there?”
A sense of unease settled over them as they pondered the implications. Jiung had always been a part of their circle, a familiar presence in the chaos that had enveloped their lives. But this… this was something they hadn’t expected.
“Maybe we should talk to him,” Soobin suggested cautiously. “Figure out what he was doing there.”
Yeonjun nodded, still staring at the photo. “Yeah, we should. But let’s finish this first. Jaehyun doesn’t need any more surprises when he gets home.”
They continued dismantling the wall, but the discovery weighed heavily on their minds. The newspaper clipping, now carefully set aside, had opened a door to a new mystery—one that neither of them had seen coming. As they worked, they couldn’t shake the feeling that the nightmare wasn’t over yet.
======================================================
Jiung’s heart raced as he stood outside the mayor’s mansion, the darkness of the night concealing his presence. He adjusted the hood of his black sweatshirt, pulling it tighter around his face as he took a deep breath. This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for.
Ever since he discovered that the mayor had bribed his mother to leave town, Jiung had been filled with a cold, simmering rage. His mother had always been his anchor, the one person who had kept him grounded in a world that often felt like it was crumbling around him. But now, she was gone, and Jiung knew exactly who was responsible.
He wasn’t about to let the mayor get away with it.
Slipping through the shadows, Jiung made his way to the side of the mansion, where he knew a window was often left unlocked. He’d spent weeks planning this, watching the mayor’s every move, learning his habits, and memorizing the layout of the mansion. It was a calculated risk, but one Jiung was willing to take.
With a swift motion, he pried the window open and slipped inside, landing silently on the carpeted floor. The mansion was eerily quiet, the only sound the ticking of a distant clock echoing through the halls. Jiung moved quickly, his steps light and deliberate as he navigated his way to the mayor’s office.
When he reached the large oak door, Jiung paused, pressing his ear against it to listen for any signs of life inside. Hearing nothing, he slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open, slipping into the room. The office was dimly lit, the moonlight filtering through the curtains casting long shadows across the furniture.
Jiung’s eyes immediately locked onto the large mahogany desk at the center of the room. That’s where the mayor kept all his secrets, the place where deals were made and lives were ruined. He moved toward it, his hands trembling slightly as he began to search through the drawers.
It didn’t take long for him to find what he was looking for.
A thick stack of papers, neatly tucked away in a locked drawer that Jiung had easily pried open. As he flipped through the documents, his anger grew. There were records of illegal transactions, bribes, blackmail—all of it carefully documented and hidden away. And among the papers, Jiung found proof of the mayor’s dealings with his mother.
The bribe that had torn his family apart.
Jiung clenched his jaw, a fierce determination settling over him. He wasn’t just going to take these papers and expose the mayor—he was going to make sure the mayor knew exactly who had been in his office, who had uncovered his secrets.
Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen from the desk, Jiung quickly scribbled a note, his handwriting jagged and sharp with anger. He didn’t bother with pleasantries or threats; the words he wrote were simple and direct:
**You can’t hide forever. I’ll make sure you pay for what you’ve done.**
Jiung placed the note on top of the incriminating paperwork, leaving it in plain sight for the mayor to find. It was a message, a warning, and a promise all rolled into one. And it was just the beginning.
Before leaving, Jiung took one last look around the office, his eyes lingering on the mayor’s plush chair, the polished desk, the trappings of power that had been used to hurt so many people. He felt no fear, no regret—only a cold satisfaction that settled deep in his bones.
With a final glance at the note, Jiung turned and left the office, slipping back out the way he came. The night air hit him as he emerged from the mansion, his heart still pounding but his mind clear.
This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. Jiung was just getting started.
======================================================
Sheriff Jiwoong sat at his desk, staring at the list of names in front of him. Hanbin’s murder had stirred up more than just fear in the community; it had opened up a web of connections that Jiwoong was determined to unravel. The first name on that list was Sooyoung, the high school psychology teacher. She had seemed like just another faculty member, but her name had come up in connection with Hanbin—a connection she had conveniently forgotten to mention.
Deciding it was time to confront her, Jiwoong grabbed his keys and headed to the high school. The halls were eerily quiet as he made his way to Sooyoung’s classroom. The school day was over, but he knew she often stayed late, grading papers or preparing for the next day’s lessons. As he approached her door, he could hear the faint sound of classical music playing from within.
He knocked twice before pushing the door open. Sooyoung looked up from her desk, her expression unreadable. “Sheriff,” she greeted him with a calm nod. “To what do I owe this visit?”
Jiwoong stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “I need to ask you a few questions,” he said, his tone serious. “About Hanbin.”
Sooyoung’s demeanor didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—nervousness, maybe. “Hanbin? I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
“You went to elementary school with him, didn’t you?” Jiwoong cut straight to the point, not in the mood for games. “And yet, when I asked if you knew him, you said no.”
Sooyoung leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping lightly on the desk. “I didn’t think it was relevant,” she replied smoothly. “We were children then. I hadn’t seen him in years, and honestly, I’d forgotten about him until all this started.”
“Convenient,” Jiwoong remarked, folding his arms. “But there’s something else that concerns me. I’ve been informed that you’ve been recording private conversations with the students. Without their consent.”
Sooyoung didn’t flinch, but her expression hardened slightly. “I’m a psychology teacher, Sheriff. Sometimes, I record sessions for educational purposes—to review and analyze for better understanding. But I assure you, everything is kept confidential.”
“Confidential?” Jiwoong’s voice grew sharper. “You were recording vulnerable kids—students who trusted you. And now, one of those kids is dead, and you’re connected to him. I don’t believe in coincidences, Sooyoung. Why didn’t you tell me about your history with Hanbin?”
She sighed, finally letting some of the tension show. “Look, Hanbin and I were never close. We were in the same school, sure, but that’s it. I didn’t think my connection to him as a child would have any bearing on his death now. As for the recordings, they were meant to be used in my lessons, nothing more.”
Jiwoong studied her, searching for any sign of deceit. “I’m going to need those recordings,” he said firmly. “All of them. If there’s anything that might help us understand what happened to Hanbin, I want it.”
Sooyoung hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Sheriff, those recordings are private. I can’t just hand them over without—”
“This isn’t a request,” Jiwoong interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. “If you’re withholding anything that could help this investigation, it could be considered obstruction of justice. And you don’t want that.”
For a moment, Sooyoung looked like she might argue, but then she sighed, nodding reluctantly. “Fine,” she muttered. “I’ll get them for you.”
As she began gathering the files, Jiwoong couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Sooyoung than she was letting on. Her calm demeanor, the way she had brushed off her connection to Hanbin—it all felt too practiced, too controlled.
“Why do I get the sense that you’re not telling me everything?” Jiwoong asked, his gaze never leaving her.
Sooyoung paused, looking up at him with a faint smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Because, Sheriff,” she replied softly, “everyone has secrets. Even you.”
Jiwoong’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he waited as Sooyoung handed over the files, taking them with a curt nod. As he left the classroom, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over. Sooyoung was hiding something, and he was going to find out what it was—no matter how deep he had to dig.
======================================================
In the dimly lit parking lot of the hotel, the contrast between Sunoo and Leehan couldn’t have been more stark. Sunoo leaned casually against the sleek, expensive SUV, the soft glow of the streetlights reflecting off its polished surface. He adjusted the collar of his plush hotel robe, the remnants of their indulgent night still evident in his relaxed demeanor.
Leehan, on the other hand, stood by his beat-up BMX, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched Sunoo with a mix of affection and amusem*nt. The simplicity of his bike and the casualness of his clothes clashed with the luxury that surrounded Sunoo, but it didn’t seem to bother either of them.
“You sure you’re okay getting home like that?” Sunoo asked, his voice laced with genuine concern. He glanced at the BMX, unable to hide the slight disbelief in his tone.
Leehan shrugged, the smirk widening into a full grin. “I’ve been riding this thing since I was a kid. I’ll be fine.”
Sunoo chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re something else, Leehan.”
Leehan swung a leg over the bike, ready to pedal off. “And you, Sunoo, are way too fancy for your own good.”
They both laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet parking lot. For a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered—just the two of them, wrapped in the afterglow of a night that was theirs alone.
Sunoo’s smile softened as he watched Leehan prepare to leave. “Take care, okay?”
Leehan glanced back, his expression unexpectedly tender. “You too.”
With that, he pushed off, pedaling into the night. Sunoo watched him disappear down the street, the small figure of Leehan on his BMX growing smaller until it was swallowed by the darkness.
Sunoo sighed, a mix of contentment and something more complicated swirling within him. He glanced at the SUV, the symbol of his status, his life—everything that set him apart from Leehan. But for that night, none of it had mattered.
As Sunoo slipped into the driver’s seat, the weight of their differences hung in the air, but so did the undeniable connection they’d shared. He started the engine, the hum of the car feeling almost too loud in the quiet night. As he drove off, Sunoo couldn’t help but glance in the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see Leehan’s BMX following him, but there was nothing but an empty road.
And maybe, just maybe, that was okay. For now.
======================================================
Jaehyun lay in the hospital bed, his face pale and eyes heavy with exhaustion. The door creaked open, and Leehan walked in, a wide grin on his face. He carried a large, leather-bound book under one arm.
Leehan’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Hey, Jaehyun. How’s the patient?”
Jaehyun squinted up at him, confusion crossing his face. “Leehan? What are you doing here?”
Ignoring the question, Leehan set the book on Jaehyun’s bedside table. “I’ve got something for you.”
Jaehyun’s curiosity was piqued. “What is it?”
Leehan leaned in, his grin widening. “It’s a little something I put together. Thought it might lift your spirits.”
Jaehyun glanced at the book. “What’s inside?”
“Open it and see,” Leehan said, stepping back to give Jaehyun space.
With a tentative hand, Jaehyun flipped open the cover. The first page was a striking illustration of himself, standing heroically amidst a backdrop of chaos. The image was vibrant and dynamic, capturing Jaehyun in a moment of triumph.
“What the—” Jaehyun’s eyes widened. “This is… about me?”
Leehan nodded enthusiastically. “Yep. It’s a graphic novel. A bit unconventional, I know, but I thought you’d appreciate it.”
Jaehyun thumbed through the pages, his gaze scanning the detailed drawings and action-packed panels. The narrative depicted him as a relentless detective, taking down enemies and solving mysteries with an unmatched flair.
“This is incredible,” Jaehyun said, his voice filled with awe. “But why not just offer condolences?”
Leehan shrugged. “Condolences are nice and all, but I figured you’d prefer something that shows you’re a total badass. Besides, this way, you get to see yourself in action. Who needs sympathy when you can have a comic book?”
Jaehyun chuckled despite himself, a spark of amusem*nt in his eyes. “You’ve got a point. Thanks, Leehan. This really does make me feel a bit better.”
Leehan gave a satisfied nod. “Glad to hear it. Just remember, you’re not alone in this. You’ve got this, Jaehyun.”
As Leehan turned to leave, Jaehyun looked back at the book, a small smile on his lips. “I’ll make sure to read it cover to cover.”
Leehan winked. “That’s the spirit. Catch you later, detective.”
With that, Leehan exited the room, leaving Jaehyun alone with his new source of inspiration.
======================================================
Yeonjun paced anxiously in Soobin's dimly lit bedroom, his fingers drumming against his knee. “You really think Jiung is our guy?”
Soobin nodded, his face set in a determined expression. “I’ve got a hunch. And I’ve got a plan. Just need to find something concrete.”
Yeonjun’s eyes widened. “What’s the plan?”
Soobin pulled out a small flashlight and a set of gloves from his bag. “I’m going to sneak into Jiung’s place. If he’s hiding something, I’ll find it.”
Yeonjun glanced at the clock, worry evident on his face. “It’s risky. What if he’s home?”
Soobin gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be in and out before he even knows I’m there.”
As night fell, Soobin slipped quietly into Jiung’s house, carefully picking the lock on the bedroom door. He moved with practiced stealth, his flashlight illuminating the darkened room. The furniture was sparse, but Soobin’s eyes were sharp, scanning for anything unusual.
Soobin’s heart raced as he rifled through drawers and under the bed. He finally spotted a small, locked drawer in Jiung’s nightstand. He used a makeshift lock-picking kit and, after a few tense moments, the drawer creaked open.
Inside, Soobin found a stack of neatly folded letters. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized the distinctive handwriting of Beomgyu. He quickly scanned the letters, finding them to be personal notes Beomgyu had written to Hanbin.
Soobin’s eyes narrowed as he read a passage aloud, barely above a whisper. “*Hanbin, I’m afraid I’m in too deep. The things I’ve done, they’re starting to haunt me...*”
He glanced around nervously, then quickly stuffed the letters back into the drawer, locking it again. Just as he was about to leave, he heard footsteps approaching the door. Soobin’s pulse quickened, and he ducked behind the curtain, holding his breath.
Jiung entered the room, his expression puzzled as he looked around. “Did I leave the door unlocked?” he muttered, moving toward the nightstand.
Soobin remained perfectly still, barely daring to breathe. After a tense few moments, Jiung seemed to lose interest and left the room.
Soobin waited until the coast was clear before slipping out of the house, his mind racing. He met Yeonjun outside, his face a mix of excitement and concern.
“I found something,” Soobin said, holding out a small notebook containing a detailed summary of what he’d discovered. “Jiung had the letters Beomgyu wrote to Hanbin. It’s definitely worth looking into.”
Yeonjun’s eyes widened as he took the notebook. “This could be the break we needed. We need to figure out what Jiung’s connection to all this is.”
Soobin nodded, looking resolute. “Agreed. We need to dig deeper. But for now, let’s get these to the right people and see what they can find out.”
As they headed to their next destination, the weight of their discovery felt both exhilarating and daunting. They knew that uncovering the truth was just beginning, but they were one step closer to unraveling the mystery that had haunted them for so long.
======================================================
Jaehyun lay in his hospital bed, the soft beeping of the heart monitor providing a steady rhythm. The room was filled with the faint glow of the bedside lamp, casting long shadows on the walls. He sat propped up, his laptop open and the microphone set in front of him. He took a deep breath, looking at the screen.
“Okay, Hao,” Jaehyun whispered to himself, “this is for you.”
He hit the record button, and his voice came through clear and somber. “Welcome to what will be my final podcast. Tonight, I’m not just speaking to my listeners—I’m speaking to Zhang Hao, my boyfriend, who was taken from us far too soon. Hao, you were more than just a partner to me; you were my rock, my confidant, and my best friend. I want to share the person you were…”
Jaehyun’s voice cracked as he continued, recounting memories and detailing the impact Hao had on his life. He spoke about their shared dreams, the laughter they’d shared, and the profound sadness he felt at his loss. Each word was a tribute, filled with raw emotion.
As Jaehyun finished his eulogy, he paused for a moment, wiping a tear from his eye. He glanced at the clock and then at the upload button on his screen.
“This is it,” Jaehyun said, more to himself than anyone else. He pressed the button to start the upload process, watching as the progress bar began to fill.
But then, without warning, the screen flickered. Jaehyun’s eyes widened as a message appeared: “Unauthorized Access Detected.”
“What the—” Jaehyun muttered, frantically trying to close the window. The screen shifted to a new window, showing a live feed of his own webcam. A shadowy figure appeared on the screen, their face obscured by a mask.
Jaehyun’s heart raced. “Who are you?”
The masked figure’s voice came through the speakers, distorted and cold. “I couldn’t let you share your tribute, Jaehyun. It’s a nice sentiment, but it’s not meant for the world to see.”
“What do you want?” Jaehyun demanded, his voice shaking.
The figure leaned closer to the camera, their voice dripping with menace. “I want to make sure that certain truths remain hidden. Your podcast was about to reveal more than just your feelings for Hao. It’s a shame, really.”
Jaehyun tried to regain control of his laptop, but the screen was unresponsive. “Stop this! I’m trying to honor Hao, and you’re ruining it!”
The figure’s voice was icy. “Your efforts are futile. The world doesn’t need to know everything, and neither do you. This is a warning.”
The screen went black, and the laptop shut down abruptly. Jaehyun stared at it in disbelief, his heart pounding. He felt a mix of frustration and despair. The hacker had not only interrupted his final podcast but also left him feeling more vulnerable than ever.
As he clicked “play,” the screen flickered to life, showing a shaky, poorly-lit clip of Yeonjun and Beomgyu at a crime scene. The footage was grainy and appeared to be from hidden cameras—evidence Jaehyun had obtained through dubious means.
“Hello, everyone,” Jaehyun’s voice began, now laced with an unsettling tone. “Tonight’s podcast is dedicated to uncovering a shocking truth about our beloved suspects. What if I told you that Yeonjun and Beomgyu are the real culprits behind the Lakewood murders?”
The video cut to more footage: Yeonjun and Beomgyu appearing in various crime scenes, seemingly acting suspiciously. The scenes were manipulated to make their actions appear incriminating.
Jaehyun’s voiceover continued, “As you can see, their behavior is more than just coincidental. They’ve been seen in places they shouldn’t be, at times that are far from innocent. This footage was captured from hidden cameras, placed strategically to document their every move.”
The video showed Beomgyu seemingly sneaking around a crime scene, while another clip depicted Yeonjun examining evidence with an intense, almost obsessive focus.
“This footage,” Jaehyun’s voice continued, “raises serious questions about their involvement. Why are they so keen on these scenes? What are they hiding?”
Just as Jaehyun’s podcast reached its peak, the screen flickered again. A new message appeared, taking over the video feed: “Unauthorized Upload Detected.”
“What now?” Jaehyun muttered, frustration evident in his voice. He watched helplessly as the video was interrupted by a new window displaying a hacker’s message.
“Seems like your little conspiracy didn’t go unnoticed,” the masked hacker’s voice came through the speakers, distorted and cold. “This video is not meant for the public.”
The hacker's message continued, “The video you tried to upload has been removed and replaced with a new file. Enjoy.”
The screen switched to a new video, exposing the truth behind the manipulated footage. It showed the original, unaltered clips of Yeonjun and Beomgyu, clearly in the presence of investigators, and not behaving suspiciously at all. The video then cut to evidence showing Jaehyun’s false edits and hacking activities, revealing his deceit.
Jaehyun stared in horror, his heart racing. “No, no, no! This wasn’t supposed to happen!”
======================================================
Yeonjun and Beomgyu approached the old farmhouse, its wooden exterior weathered and creaky. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the property. The air was thick with tension as they made their way to the back door, which was slightly ajar.
“This place gives me the creeps,” Beomgyu muttered, glancing around nervously. “Are you sure this is where the killer left your journal?”
Yeonjun nodded, his expression grim. “I have a strong feeling. The podcast footage mentioned my dream journal, and it had to come from here. Let’s just find it quickly.”
They entered the farmhouse, the floorboards creaking beneath their feet. The interior was dusty and filled with cobwebs, giving it an eerie, abandoned feel. They made their way to the secret room that had been hidden behind a false wall. Yeonjun pushed against the wall, and it swung open with a groan.
Inside, the room was cluttered with old furniture and forgotten items. Yeonjun’s eyes scanned the room, looking for anything familiar.
“There!” Yeonjun exclaimed, pointing to a small, wooden box on a dusty shelf. “That’s the box where I kept my dream journal.”
Beomgyu approached the box cautiously, brushing off the thick layer of dust. He opened it, revealing the journal inside. Yeonjun’s heart pounded as he picked it up, flipping through the pages.
“This is definitely it,” Yeonjun said, his voice trembling. “But how did the killer get their hands on it?”
Beomgyu’s eyes narrowed as he examined the room. “It looks like they were trying to gather information from it. There were passages from your journal in the podcast video. They probably used this to get details about your dreams.”
Yeonjun’s face went pale. “So the killer was planning to manipulate my dreams and use them against me. They’re more involved than we thought.”
Beomgyu frowned. “We need to be careful. If they’ve been watching you so closely, they might be tracking us too. We should figure out what they’ve been using from your journal.”
Yeonjun flipped through the pages, trying to spot any marked sections. “Here,” he said, pointing to a passage that seemed out of place. “This part about the abandoned carnival and the masked figure—it was in the podcast video. It’s like they took my dreams and turned them into a twisted reality.”
Beomgyu nodded, his expression serious. “We need to understand what they’re trying to achieve with this information. It’s not just about framing people—it’s about using your own fears and visions against you.”
Yeonjun’s gaze was fixed on the journal, his mind racing. “We need to get this to the police and show them the connections. But we also need to be prepared for whatever the killer might do next.”
Beomgyu put a reassuring hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder. “We’re in this together. We’ll make sure the truth comes out and stop them before they can hurt anyone else.”
======================================================
Sunoo paced anxiously in the dimly lit barn, his eyes darting to the clock. His father, Mayor Taehyung, had arrived to address the blackmail threat caused by Jiung’s theft. The barn was still and silent, save for the occasional creak of the old wooden beams.
Sunoo’s phone buzzed with a new message. He checked it, but it was just another failed attempt to reach his father. “Dad, where are you?” he muttered under his breath.
The silence of the barn was suddenly pierced by the unmistakable sound of a ringtone—a ringtone Sunoo recognized immediately as his father’s. The sound seemed to come from the back of the barn.
Sunoo’s heart raced as he followed the sound, pushing aside stacks of hay and old farm tools. “Dad?” he called out, his voice echoing through the empty space.
He reached the back of the barn and saw Mayor Taehyung’s phone lying on the ground, the screen still flashing with text notifications. Sunoo’s heart sank. His father’s phone was here, but his father was nowhere to be seen.
A shadow moved in the dim light, and Sunoo’s eyes widened in horror as Ghostface emerged from the darkness. The figure was wielding a pitchfork, its tines gleaming ominously in the low light.
“No!” Sunoo shouted, but it was too late. Ghostface advanced with a menacing stride.
Mayor Taehyung appeared from behind a stack of crates, his face pale and strained with pain. He was clutching his side where blood seeped through his fingers.
“Dad!” Sunoo’s voice cracked as he rushed towards him.
Ghostface lunged with the pitchfork, stabbing it through Mayor Taehyung’s abdomen. The Mayor gasped, his face contorted in agony.
“Sunoo… run!” Mayor Taehyung managed to choke out, his voice weak.
Sunoo’s eyes were filled with tears as he saw his father fall to the ground. “No! I’m not leaving you!”
Ghostface withdrew the pitchfork, the tines slick with blood, and took a step back, surveying the scene with a cold, detached gaze. “It’s too late for that,” the masked figure said, their voice distorted.
Sunoo knelt beside his father, his hands trembling as he tried to stem the bleeding. “Hang on, Dad. Help is coming. Just hold on.”
Mayor Taehyung’s breathing was shallow, his eyes losing focus. “I… I tried to protect you. Don’t let him… get away…”
Before Sunoo could respond, Ghostface turned and started to retreat, vanishing into the shadows. Sunoo’s heart pounded as he tried to call for help, his hands slick with his father’s blood.
Desperate and shaking, Sunoo pulled out his phone, dialing emergency services. “Please, someone help us!” he pleaded into the phone.
======================================================
The night air was chilly as Beomgyu and Yeonjun made their way toward the old barn. The strange noises they had heard from a distance had piqued their curiosity. They exchanged uneasy glances as they approached the barn, the eerie sounds growing louder with each step.
“Do you hear that?” Beomgyu whispered, his voice filled with unease.
Yeonjun nodded, his face taut with worry. “Yeah, it sounds like someone’s in trouble. We should check it out.”
The two of them carefully pushed open the barn doors, the creaking hinges echoing in the still night. Inside, the dim light cast long shadows over the cluttered space. The unsettling noises continued, now clearly recognizable as ragged, labored breathing.
“Over here,” Yeonjun said, leading the way as they followed the sound to the back of the barn.
They stumbled upon a horrific scene: Mayor Taehyung lay on the ground, his face pale and bloodied. The once-proud figure of the Mayor was now barely recognizable, struggling to breathe through the pain.
“Dad!” Sunoo’s voice cut through the barn, filled with anguish. He was kneeling beside his father, his hands covered in blood as he tried to apply pressure to the wound.
Beomgyu and Yeonjun froze, their eyes widening in shock. The realization hit them hard—this was the source of the strange noises. They looked at each other, horror written on their faces.
“What happened?” Beomgyu stammered, his hands shaking as he looked at the bloody scene.
Before they could react further, they heard a rustling sound behind them. Ghostface’s sinister silhouette appeared, clutching the pitchfork that had been used in the attack. The masked figure’s eyes gleamed with a cold menace as they stepped closer.
Yeonjun’s instincts kicked in. “We need to do something!” He grabbed Beomgyu’s arm and yanked him away from the approaching threat. “Get the pitchfork! It’s our only chance.”
Beomgyu hesitated for a moment but then moved quickly, grabbing the bloody pitchfork from where it had been discarded. He wiped the blood from his hands with his sleeve, his mind racing.
As the police sirens wailed in the distance, Ghostface made a swift retreat into the shadows. Beomgyu and Yeonjun were left standing in the barn, the pitchfork heavy in Beomgyu’s hands, blood still dripping from its tines.
Sunoo looked up, his eyes red and filled with tears. “You—you saw him?”
Yeonjun nodded, his face pale. “Yes, but he got away. We need to get you and your father out of here. Help is on the way.”
The barn door burst open as police officers flooded in, their flashlights cutting through the darkness. They immediately took in the chaotic scene—Mayor Taehyung’s condition, Sunoo’s distress, and the two young men covered in blood with the murder weapon in hand.
“Hands where we can see them!” one of the officers barked, their tone authoritative as they approached Beomgyu and Yeonjun.
Beomgyu and Yeonjun complied, holding up their hands. “We were trying to help,” Yeonjun explained urgently. “We found the Mayor like this. The killer was just here, and we grabbed the pitchfork because—”
The officer cut him off, his gaze shifting to the bloodied pitchfork. “We need to secure the scene. You two, step away from the weapon.”
Beomgyu and Yeonjun backed away, their hands trembling as the police took control of the situation. Sunoo was led away by another officer, his eyes still fixed on his father, who was being attended to by paramedics.
As the chaos unfolded, Beomgyu and Yeonjun exchanged worried glances, both realizing the gravity of the situation. The events of the night had left them with more questions than answers, and the shadow of the killer still loomed large over the barn’s grim scene.
======================================================
The night air was cold as the police escorted Beomgyu and Yeonjun out of the barn, their hands cuffed behind their backs. The sound of sirens and flashing lights cast an unsettling glow over the scene. Sunoo’s anguished face was the last thing they saw before being pushed into separate police cars.
Inside the precinct, Beomgyu and Yeonjun sat in stark, fluorescent-lit interrogation rooms. The metal chairs were cold and uncomfortable, and the tension in the air was palpable. Beomgyu stared at the floor, his mind racing, while Yeonjun fidgeted in his seat, nervously running a hand through his hair.
An officer entered Beomgyu’s room, placing a file on the table and sitting down across from him. “Alright, Beomgyu. Let’s start from the beginning. Tell me exactly what happened tonight.”
Beomgyu looked up, his eyes wide with anxiety. “I—I don’t know where to start. We heard noises, and when we went to check, we found… we found the Mayor. He was… bleeding. And there was this guy, Ghostface. He attacked us. We grabbed the pitchfork because—”
The officer cut him off with a weary sigh. “And why was there blood on your hands?”
Beomgyu’s face flushed. “We were trying to help! Sunoo was with his father, and we—”
“Did you see the killer?” the officer pressed.
Beomgyu hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, but he got away. We tried to stop him.”
Meanwhile, in the adjacent room, Yeonjun faced a similar interrogation. The officer paced back and forth, his expression skeptical.
“Yeonjun,” the officer said, “I need a clear account of what happened. Why were you at the barn, and how did you end up with the pitchfork?”
Yeonjun swallowed hard. “We went to investigate the noises. We found the Mayor, and he was hurt. We tried to stop the bleeding, and then Ghostface showed up. We took the pitchfork because… we thought it might help.”
The officer raised an eyebrow. “And how did you end up with blood on your hands?”
Yeonjun glanced down at his hands, his face a mix of shame and frustration. “We were trying to help. We didn’t mean to get blood everywhere. It’s just… it was a mess.”
The officer shook his head, clearly unconvinced. “This is going to take some time to sort out. You’re both looking at a lot of questions and scrutiny. We need to confirm your stories and figure out exactly what happened.”
As the hours ticked by, Beomgyu and Yeonjun were left in their separate rooms, the stark reality of their situation sinking in. The initial shock had worn off, replaced by a heavy weight of uncertainty and fear. They knew their fate now rested in the hands of the authorities, and the path ahead seemed fraught with complications.
The harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the interrogation rooms. Each young man sat in silence, the gravity of the situation settling heavily on their shoulders. They were caught in a web of confusion and suspicion, their futures uncertain as the police continued their investigation.
As the night wore on, the officers continued their questioning, trying to piece together the events of the evening. Beomgyu and Yeonjun’s stories, though earnest, were tangled and incomplete. The two friends, now faced with the possibility of incarceration, could only wait and hope that the truth would eventually come to light.
Chapter 22: When A Stranger Calls
Notes:
Hi everyone! After 3 weeks, I am finally finishing up on this work! This will actually be the finale, whereas for the next 2 chapters will be considered as special episodes for Halloween.
I would like to express my gratitude for have always been supporting on this work. I have more upcoming works in plan, and hope to see you guys soon!
Chapter Text
The police car rumbled along the dark, empty streets as Yeonjun and Beomgyu sat in the backseat, handcuffed and silent. The rhythmic hum of the engine did little to ease their frayed nerves. They had barely spoken since leaving the precinct, both lost in their own thoughts.
Yeonjun glanced at Beomgyu, his eyes filled with worry. “This is messed up, Gyu. How did we end up here?”
Beomgyu shook his head, his voice low. “I don’t know, Jun. I just want to get out of this nightmare.”
The officer driving the car remained focused on the road, his gaze fixed straight ahead. The city’s lights blurred past the windows, casting fleeting shadows across the car's interior.
Without warning, there was a sharp screeching sound as one of the tires lost traction. The car veered wildly, spinning out of control. Beomgyu and Yeonjun were thrown against their seats as the car skidded across the asphalt.
“What the hell—” the officer shouted, trying to regain control of the vehicle.
The car slammed into a lamp post with a sickening crunch. The impact jolted them violently, the front of the car crumpling like a tin can. The windshield shattered, sending shards of glass flying everywhere. The world outside spun, then came to a halt, leaving only the sound of their ragged breathing and the creaking of the damaged car.
Yeonjun’s head was spinning, his vision blurry as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. “Gyu, are you okay?” he croaked, his voice weak.
“Yeah,” Beomgyu gasped, wincing as he tried to move. “I think so… but what—what just happened?”
Before either of them could process the situation, a figure emerged from the shadows outside, moving with deliberate intent. The familiar shape of Ghostface came into view, the mask gleaming ominously under the streetlights.
“Oh no…” Yeonjun’s voice trembled as he recognized the figure.
The officer, dazed but still conscious, struggled to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Stay in the car!” he ordered, trying to reach for his radio to call for backup.
But Ghostface was already at the driver’s side door. With a swift motion, the killer shattered the window, glass spraying into the car. The officer barely had time to react before Ghostface lunged, plunging a gleaming knife deep into his abdomen. The officer let out a strangled cry as blood spattered across the dashboard.
“No! Stop!” Beomgyu shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the horror unfolding before him.
Ghostface didn’t hesitate, twisting the knife with brutal precision, gutting the officer with a cold, calculated efficiency. The officer’s body slumped forward, lifeless, blood pooling around the seat.
Yeonjun and Beomgyu stared in shock, their hearts pounding in their chests. The killer turned to face them, the mask emotionless, the knife dripping with fresh blood.
“What do we do? What do we do?” Yeonjun whispered, panic rising in his throat.
Beomgyu struggled against his handcuffs, desperately trying to free himself. “We need to get out of here, now!”
Ghostface moved toward the back of the car, his steps slow and deliberate. The door handle rattled as the killer tried to open it, but it was locked. That small barrier wouldn’t hold for long.
“We’re trapped!” Yeonjun cried, his breath coming in short, frantic bursts.
Beomgyu’s mind raced, adrenaline surging through him. “The other door! We have to go through the other door—now!”
Summoning every ounce of strength, the two boys maneuvered themselves as best they could with their hands still cuffed behind their backs. They fumbled for the door on the other side, pushing it open with their shoulders.
They stumbled out of the car, their movements awkward and desperate. The killer was just a few steps behind, relentless and unyielding.
“Run!” Yeonjun yelled, his voice raw with fear.
They bolted into the night, their breaths ragged, not daring to look back as they fled from the scene. Behind them, Ghostface watched their retreat with cold detachment, the hunt far from over. The dark streets stretched ahead, and they knew the danger was far from behind.
======================================================
The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air in the hospital room, where the steady beep of monitors kept time with the tension that lingered. Sheriff Jiwoong stood by the window, his gaze fixed on the city lights outside as he mulled over the events of the past few days. He was deep in thought when a knock on the door broke his reverie.
“Come in,” he said, his voice gruff.
The door opened slowly, and Sooyoung, the hospital-bound psychology teacher, wheeled herself into the room. Her face was pale, a bandage wrapped around her head, but her eyes were sharp and focused.
“Sheriff,” she greeted, her voice tinged with exhaustion but carrying an unmistakable urgency. “I’m glad you came. We need to talk.”
Jiwoong turned to face her, nodding slightly. “Sooyoung. You said you had something important to discuss.”
She wheeled herself closer to the bed, her expression serious. “I’ve been going over everything that’s happened, all the signs, the patterns… and I’m certain now. Yeonjun and Beomgyu—they’re the ones we’ve been looking for.”
The Sheriff’s eyes narrowed. “Yeonjun and Beomgyu? Those kids have been in over their heads since this all began. What makes you so sure they’re our prime suspects?”
Sooyoung leaned forward slightly, her voice lowering. “They’ve been involved in almost every major incident. They’ve been caught at crime scenes, their stories are full of holes, and they’ve got blood on their hands—literally. And let’s not forget the recent incident in the barn. Everything points to them.”
Jiwoong frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know they’ve been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but that doesn’t necessarily make them killers. They’ve been through hell, Sooyoung. I’ve seen the fear in their eyes. Something doesn’t sit right with me about pinning this all on them.”
Sooyoung’s expression hardened. “Sheriff, you can’t let sympathy cloud your judgment. Sometimes, the most dangerous people are the ones you least expect. You know how trauma can twist people’s minds, push them to do things they never would have otherwise.”
The Sheriff sighed, rubbing his temples. “I get that, but I’ve been in this job long enough to know when something doesn’t add up. There’s something more to this, something we’re missing. Yeonjun and Beomgyu may be caught up in this mess, but I’m not convinced they’re the masterminds behind it.”
Sooyoung’s eyes softened slightly, but she remained resolute. “Jiwoong, we can’t ignore the evidence just because it’s uncomfortable. If we don’t act now, more people could die. We need to bring them in for questioning, at the very least.”
Jiwoong nodded, though his doubt lingered. “I’ll bring them in, but I’m not ready to call them the killers just yet. I’ll keep digging, find out what’s really going on. And if they’re involved, I’ll make sure justice is served.”
Sooyoung leaned back in her wheelchair, her expression thoughtful. “Just be careful, Sheriff. The closer we get to the truth, the more dangerous it becomes. Whoever’s behind this won’t hesitate to strike again.”
Jiwoong nodded, his gaze returning to the window. “I know. And I’ll be ready for them.”
As he left the hospital room, Sheriff Jiwoong couldn’t shake the feeling that the real killer was still out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And he knew he had to find the truth before it was too late.
======================================================
The fluorescent lights of the gas station flickered as Yeonjun and Beomgyu burst through the door, breathless and shaken. The smell of gasoline and stale coffee hit them as they stumbled inside, glancing around to make sure they weren’t being followed. The station was nearly empty, save for a bored-looking cashier behind the counter and a trucker nursing a cup of coffee in the corner.
“We need to lay low,” Beomgyu muttered, his voice tinged with panic. “Just for a few minutes.”
Yeonjun nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Yeah. We need to figure out what the hell we’re going to do next.”
They moved toward the back of the store, hiding behind a row of shelves stocked with snacks and drinks. The adrenaline from their escape was still coursing through their veins, but the reality of their situation was beginning to sink in.
As they caught their breath, Yeonjun’s phone suddenly rang, the sound startling them both. He fumbled to pull it out of his pocket, his heart sinking as he saw an unknown number on the screen.
“Who could that be?” Beomgyu asked, eyes wide with fear.
Yeonjun hesitated before answering, dread curling in his stomach. “I don’t know… but I have a bad feeling about this.”
He pressed the phone to his ear, his hand trembling slightly. “Hello?”
A familiar, distorted voice crackled through the line, sending chills down Yeonjun’s spine. “Hello, Yeonjun. Did you really think you could run away from me?”
Yeonjun’s breath caught in his throat, his blood turning to ice. “What do you want?” he whispered, trying to keep his voice steady.
The killer’s voice was taunting, almost amused. “I want to see how far you’ll go to save your own skin. You’re already running, but you can’t run forever. Sooner or later, I’ll catch up with you.”
Yeonjun’s grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles white. “You’re sick,” he spat, anger flaring up alongside his fear. “Leave us alone!”
A cold laugh echoed through the phone. “You’re in no position to make demands. I suggest you take a look around—see what the world thinks of you now.”
The line went dead, and Yeonjun lowered the phone, his hands shaking. He turned to Beomgyu, his face pale. “It was him. The killer. He knows where we are.”
Beomgyu’s eyes darted around the store, panic rising again. “We need to get out of here, Jun. Now.”
But before they could make a move, something on the small TV behind the cashier caught Yeonjun’s attention. A breaking news report was flashing across the screen, the words “WANTED” emblazoned in bold letters.
Yeonjun’s heart sank as he saw their faces plastered on the screen, accompanied by a chilling headline: **“Teenage Suspects on the Run: Armed and Dangerous.”**
“No… no, this can’t be happening,” Yeonjun murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Beomgyu looked up at the screen, his expression one of utter disbelief. “They think we did it… They really think we’re the killers.”
The reality of their situation hit them like a ton of bricks. They were no longer just running from the killer—they were running from everyone. The police, the public… everyone believed they were the monsters behind the murders.
“What do we do now?” Beomgyu asked, his voice shaking. “We can’t go anywhere without being recognized.”
Yeonjun clenched his fists, determination hardening in his chest. “We keep running. We find the real killer and clear our names. It’s the only way.”
But as they left the gas station, the weight of the world seemed to press down on them. The darkness outside felt more oppressive than ever, and the shadows seemed to close in around them. They were wanted men now, and the road ahead was more dangerous than they’d ever imagined.
======================================================
The hospital was eerily quiet, the sterile halls bathed in the cold glow of fluorescent lights. Outside, the world was wrapped in the deep embrace of night, the stillness broken only by the distant hum of machines and the occasional beep of a heart monitor. Inside her room, Sooyoung slept peacefully, the day’s tensions finally giving way to the temporary solace of dreams.
Her chest rose and fell steadily, her breathing soft and rhythmic. The painkillers had dulled the throbbing ache in her head, allowing her a rare moment of undisturbed rest. She was unaware of the danger creeping closer, of the dark figure lurking in the shadows just outside her door.
The click of the door locking was almost imperceptible, swallowed by the silence of the night. But it was enough to stir Sooyoung from her sleep. Her eyelids fluttered as she shifted slightly, her body sensing the disturbance even before her mind fully registered it.
A faint creak of the floorboards followed, and Sooyoung’s eyes snapped open. She blinked in the dim light, disoriented and groggy. Something wasn’t right. Her gaze darted around the room, but nothing seemed out of place.
That’s when she noticed the figure standing at the foot of her bed.
Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to focus, her heart rate quickening. The figure was draped in black, a hooded cloak concealing their form, but the mask was unmistakable. The white, expressionless face of Ghostface stared back at her, the empty eyesockets boring into her soul.
“No…” Sooyoung whispered, her voice trembling with fear. “No, this isn’t real…”
But it was all too real.
Before she could react, Ghostface lunged at her, moving with a speed and precision that left her no chance to escape. Sooyoung let out a strangled cry, her hands scrambling for the call button beside her bed, but Ghostface was faster.
A rough hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her scream, while the other forced a pillow down over her face. The soft cotton filled her vision, plunging her into darkness as she struggled beneath the weight. Panic surged through her, her limbs flailing desperately as she tried to fight off her attacker.
But Ghostface was relentless, pinning her down with a terrifying strength. Sooyoung’s muffled cries grew weaker, her breaths coming in short, frantic gasps as the pillow pressed tighter against her face. She could feel her strength slipping away, her vision fading as the edges of consciousness blurred.
And then, she felt the cold, sharp edge of a blade against her throat.
A searing pain shot through her as Ghostface slit her throat with a swift, merciless motion. The warmth of her own blood gushed out, soaking the pillow and staining the sheets beneath her. Her body convulsed, a final, desperate attempt to fight, but it was too late. The life drained from her eyes, her struggles growing feeble until they ceased altogether.
Ghostface held the pillow in place for a moment longer, ensuring there would be no miraculous last breath, no reprieve from the death sentence that had been delivered. The room fell silent once more, the only sound the quiet drip of blood as it pooled on the floor.
Satisfied, Ghostface slowly withdrew, leaving Sooyoung’s lifeless body slumped on the bed, the pillow still pressed against her face. The killer paused at the door, casting one last glance at the grim scene before slipping into the darkness of the hospital corridor.
Sooyoung’s room was now a tomb of silence, the stillness only broken by the steady beep of the heart monitor, its rhythm gradually slowing until it became one long, unbroken tone.
======================================================
The first light of dawn crept through the curtains, casting a soft glow over Soobin’s quiet house. The morning was still, the world outside slowly coming to life, but inside, the only sound was the steady stream of water from the shower. Steam curled up to the ceiling, fogging the mirror as Soobin let the warm water wash away the remnants of sleep.
He closed his eyes, savoring the moment of peace, the feel of the water cascading over his skin. It was one of those rare mornings where nothing seemed to intrude on his thoughts, where he could just be. But that tranquility was short-lived.
A faint creak echoed from downstairs, barely audible over the sound of the shower. Soobin’s eyes snapped open, his heart skipping a beat. He stood still, the water beating down on him as he strained to listen.
The house had its own set of noises—pipes groaning, floorboards settling—but this was different. It was the unmistakable sound of movement, of someone creeping through the quiet.
Soobin quickly turned off the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist. His pulse quickened as he stepped out of the bathroom, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. He moved cautiously to the top of the stairs, peering down into the shadowed hallway below.
That’s when he saw him—Yeonjun, standing at the bottom of the stairs, his clothes disheveled, his face pale and drawn. His eyes were wide with fear, darting around as if he expected someone to come after him at any moment.
“Yeonjun?” Soobin whispered, his voice full of concern as he quickly descended the stairs. “What are you doing here? What happened?”
Yeonjun looked up at Soobin, his expression a mixture of relief and desperation. “Soobin… I didn’t know where else to go. They’re after me—everyone’s after me.”
Soobin’s heart sank as he took in Yeonjun’s frazzled appearance. It was clear he hadn’t slept, and the dark circles under his eyes told the story of someone who had been running, terrified and alone.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Soobin said softly, placing a hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder. “You’re safe here, alright? Come on, let’s get you inside.”
He led Yeonjun into the living room, glancing around nervously as if expecting the killer to burst through the door at any moment. Soobin grabbed a blanket from the couch and draped it over Yeonjun’s trembling form, trying to offer some semblance of comfort.
Yeonjun sank into the couch, his hands shaking as he clutched the blanket. “I didn’t know where else to go,” he repeated, his voice cracking. “I didn’t want to drag you into this, but I had no choice.”
Soobin knelt beside him, his eyes filled with worry. “You don’t have to apologize. You’re my friend, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you. We’ll figure this out together, okay?”
Yeonjun looked at Soobin, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “But what if it’s too late? What if they find me here?”
Soobin shook his head firmly. “I won’t let that happen. You can stay here as long as you need to. We’ll stay hidden, and we’ll figure out a plan. You’re not alone in this, Yeonjun.”
For a moment, the two of them sat in silence, the weight of everything hanging heavily in the air. Soobin could see the fear etched into Yeonjun’s features, and he knew that whatever they were up against was far more terrifying than either of them had imagined.
But for now, at least, they had each other. And that would have to be enough.
“I’ll go grab you some dry clothes,” Soobin said, standing up. “Just… try to relax, okay? You’re safe here.”
Yeonjun nodded weakly, his eyes following Soobin as he disappeared into the hallway. The house was quiet again, but the silence was no longer comforting—it was oppressive, filled with the weight of everything left unsaid, everything still to come.
======================================================
**Title: Threads of Fate**
---
The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air as Sunoo made his way through the quiet hospital corridors. His footsteps echoed softly on the tiled floor, the sound eerily magnified in the otherwise hushed atmosphere. The events of the previous night weighed heavily on his mind, the brutal death of his father still fresh, raw. He hadn’t allowed himself to fully process it yet—the shock was too profound, the pain too sharp.
Sunoo stopped outside Jaehyun’s room, pausing for a moment to gather himself before pushing open the door. Inside, Jaehyun was sitting up in bed, flipping through channels on the small TV mounted on the wall. His eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and concern when he saw Sunoo.
“Sunoo,” Jaehyun greeted, his voice tinged with sympathy as he took in Sunoo’s somber expression. “I’m so sorry about your dad. Are you… are you okay?”
Sunoo forced a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m… managing. It still doesn’t feel real, you know?”
Jaehyun nodded, his brow furrowing. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. If you need anything, just let me know, alright?”
Sunoo nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Thanks, Jaehyun. I just… I didn’t want to be alone right now.”
Jaehyun offered a reassuring smile. “You don’t have to be. We’re in this together.”
As they lapsed into a brief silence, the shrill ring of Sunoo’s phone suddenly cut through the quiet room. He fished it out of his pocket, glancing at the screen. It was Yeonjun.
“Hang on, I need to take this,” Sunoo said, stepping out of the room to answer the call.
“Yeonjun?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
“Sunoo, thank God you picked up,” Yeonjun’s voice came through, tense and hurried. “I need your help. Can you meet me at the theater where Beomgyu used to work?”
Sunoo’s heart skipped a beat. “The theater? Why there?”
“I’ll explain everything when you get here,” Yeonjun replied, his tone urgent. “Please, it’s important.”
Sunoo hesitated, glancing back at Jaehyun’s room. “Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
He ended the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket, his mind racing. Something about Yeonjun’s voice had sent a chill down his spine, a sense of impending danger that he couldn’t shake.
He reentered the room, finding Jaehyun already pulling off his hospital gown, revealing his clothes underneath. His expression was one of determination.
“Jaehyun? What are you doing?” Sunoo asked, frowning.
“I heard your conversation,” Jaehyun said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I’m coming with you. If Yeonjun’s in trouble, you shouldn’t be going alone.”
“But you just got out of surgery,” Sunoo protested, his concern deepening. “You should be resting, not—”
“There’s no time for that,” Jaehyun interrupted, wincing slightly as he stood up. “If Yeonjun’s calling you out of the blue like this, something’s wrong. I’m not letting you walk into it alone.”
Sunoo looked at Jaehyun, torn between the need to protect his friend and the fear of what they might be walking into. He knew Jaehyun was right—Yeonjun wouldn’t have called unless it was urgent. But the theater… the place was steeped in memories, and not all of them were good.
“Okay,” Sunoo finally agreed, his voice quiet. “But if it gets dangerous, you need to get out of there, alright? You’re still recovering.”
Jaehyun nodded, though Sunoo could see the resolve in his eyes. They both knew there was no turning back now.
The two of them left the hospital together, the early morning light casting long shadows on the pavement as they made their way to the theater. The city was just beginning to wake up, unaware of the tension threading through their steps.
As they approached the old theater, Sunoo’s heart pounded in his chest, memories flooding back of the times he’d visited Beomgyu here. It had always been a place of escape, a sanctuary filled with stories and dreams. But now, it felt different—darker, more sinister.
Jaehyun glanced at Sunoo, reading the unease in his expression. “We’ll figure this out,” he said quietly, offering a small but reassuring smile. “Whatever’s going on, we’ll face it together.”
Sunoo nodded, drawing strength from Jaehyun’s presence. They stepped into the shadow of the theater, the door creaking as they pushed it open. Inside, the dim light struggled to penetrate the darkness, the air thick with dust and the lingering scent of stale popcorn.
They exchanged a wary glance, then moved forward, ready to face whatever awaited them within the theater’s silent walls.
======================================================
The theater loomed in the darkness, its once-grand façade now cracked and weathered, a relic of a time when it had been the heart of the town. Now, it was abandoned, a ghostly reminder of what it used to be. The marquee lights flickered weakly, casting eerie shadows across the entrance as Jaehyun and Sunoo approached, their footsteps echoing in the empty street.
Sunoo’s hand hovered over the door handle, his heart pounding in his chest. He exchanged a nervous glance with Jaehyun, who nodded, silently urging him to push forward. Taking a deep breath, Sunoo pushed open the heavy door, the hinges groaning in protest as they stepped inside.
The interior of the theater was just as they remembered it—rows of velvet seats stretching into the darkness, the faded red curtains hanging limply on the stage. But tonight, the air was thick with tension, and the familiar scent of old popcorn had been replaced with something more foreboding.
As they moved deeper into the theater, they saw them—Yeonjun, Beomgyu, and Soobin—standing near the stage, their faces lit only by the dim glow of an old emergency light. There was a seriousness to their expressions, a grim determination that sent a shiver down Sunoo’s spine.
Yeonjun was the first to notice them, his eyes narrowing as they entered. “You made it,” he said, his voice low but steady. There was no trace of relief in his tone, only a cold resolve.
“What’s going on, Yeonjun?” Sunoo asked, his voice trembling slightly. “Why are we here?”
Yeonjun glanced at Beomgyu and Soobin before turning back to Sunoo and Jaehyun. “We’re going to end this. Tonight. We’re going to lure the killer here and stop them, once and for all.”
Sunoo blinked, taken aback by the bluntness of Yeonjun’s statement. “Lure the killer? Are you serious? That’s… that’s insane!”
“It’s the only way,” Yeonjun replied, his tone unwavering. “They’ve been playing with us, manipulating us, and killing everyone we care about. If we keep running, more people will die. But if we confront them here, we can end this nightmare.”
Jaehyun, still reeling from the events of the last few days, shook his head. “And what makes you think we’ll be able to stop them? We don’t even know who they are!”
“We don’t need to know who they are,” Beomgyu interjected, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. “We just need to catch them off guard. This place is a maze—we can use it to our advantage.”
Soobin, who had been silent until now, stepped forward, his expression calm but determined. “I’ve scouted the theater. There are multiple exits, hidden passageways—places we can use to trap them. If we work together, we can do this.”
Sunoo’s mind raced as he processed what they were saying. The idea of confronting the killer head-on was terrifying, but he could see the resolve in his friends’ eyes. They were done being hunted—they were ready to fight back.
“And if we fail?” Sunoo asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Yeonjun’s gaze softened slightly, but there was still an edge to his words. “We won’t. We can’t. Too many people have already died. It’s time we take control.”
Jaehyun exhaled slowly, his eyes narrowing as he considered their plan. “Alright,” he finally said, his voice firm. “But we need to be smart about this. If we’re going to do it, we need to make sure every move counts.”
Yeonjun nodded, grateful for Jaehyun’s agreement. “We will be. We’ll lure them in, and when they least expect it… we strike.”
Sunoo looked around at his friends, seeing the fire in their eyes. They were scared—no one could deny that—but they were also united in their determination to stop the killer. And that, Sunoo realized, was what gave them a fighting chance.
“Okay,” Sunoo said, his voice stronger now. “Let’s do it. Let’s end this.”
The five of them stood together in the dimly lit theater, their resolve hardening as they prepared for the final act. They knew the risks, the danger they were facing, but they also knew they couldn’t keep running. This was their chance to fight back, to reclaim their lives from the shadow of fear that had been cast over them.
As they began to plan, mapping out their strategy in hushed tones, the theater’s darkened walls seemed to close in around them. The night was still and silent, but they knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long.
Somewhere out there, the killer was waiting.
And soon, they would come face to face with their worst nightmare.
======================================================
The dim light inside the theater flickered as the group huddled together, finalizing their plan. The atmosphere was tense, the weight of their decision pressing down on them. Every creak of the old building felt like a harbinger of what was to come. Sunoo’s hands trembled slightly as he adjusted the strap of his backpack, filled with anything they could use as weapons or distractions. His mind was racing, trying to keep up with the gravity of what they were about to do.
Just as Yeonjun was about to assign everyone their positions, Sunoo’s phone buzzed in his pocket, startling him. He quickly pulled it out, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the name on the screen: Leehan.
He hesitated for a moment, glancing at his friends. “It’s Leehan,” he said, his voice laced with uncertainty. The others looked at him, their expressions a mixture of concern and impatience.
“Answer it,” Jaehyun urged, nodding toward the phone. “But be quick. We don’t have much time.”
Sunoo nodded and stepped away from the group, pressing the answer button. “Leehan?” he said quietly, his voice filled with apprehension.
“Sunoo, where are you?” Leehan’s voice came through the line, sounding frantic. “I’ve been trying to reach you! I’m outside the theater—please, let me in. I know something’s wrong, I can feel it.”
Sunoo’s heart sank as he heard the urgency in Leehan’s voice. He turned to look at the others, who were watching him intently, waiting to see what he would do.
“Leehan, you shouldn’t be here,” Sunoo said, his voice strained. “It’s not safe. You need to leave, now.”
“What do you mean? I’m not leaving you here alone!” Leehan protested, his tone desperate. “I want to help!”
Before Sunoo could respond, he heard a loud banging sound. He turned toward the front of the theater and saw Leehan’s silhouette outside the glass doors, his fists pounding on the glass, his face full of worry.
“Sunoo!” Leehan called out, his voice muffled by the thick glass. “Please, let me in! We can figure this out together!”
Sunoo felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He knew how much Leehan cared about him, how much he wanted to be there for him. But this wasn’t the time. The risks were too high, and Sunoo couldn’t bear the thought of dragging Leehan into this nightmare.
“Leehan, I’m sorry,” Sunoo said, his voice breaking. “But you need to go. It’s too dangerous.”
“Sunoo, please—” Leehan began, but Sunoo cut him off.
“Go, Leehan. I can’t let you get hurt. Not because of me.”
There was a long, painful silence on the other end of the line. Sunoo could see Leehan standing outside, his hand still pressed against the glass, his eyes searching for some sign of reassurance from Sunoo.
“Fine,” Leehan finally said, his voice soft, wounded. “If that’s what you want.”
Sunoo closed his eyes, the guilt gnawing at him as he listened to Leehan’s retreating footsteps. He didn’t open them until he heard the sound of Leehan’s car engine starting, followed by the distant hum of it driving away.
When Sunoo turned back to the group, he could see the concern in their eyes, but they didn’t say anything. They all knew there was no room for distractions now. What mattered was the plan, and seeing it through to the end.
“You did the right thing,” Yeonjun said quietly, placing a hand on Sunoo’s shoulder. “This isn’t a fight he should be part of.”
Sunoo nodded, though the ache in his chest remained. He knew Yeonjun was right, but that didn’t make it any easier.
“Let’s get ready,” Beomgyu said, breaking the silence. “We need to be prepared for anything.”
Sunoo took a deep breath, trying to push aside the guilt and focus on what was ahead. As the group moved to their positions, he cast one last glance at the darkened street outside, where Leehan had just stood moments ago.
The line had been drawn, and now, there was no turning back.
======================================================
The tension in the theater was palpable as the group silently nodded to each other, their unspoken agreement to split up and prepare for the confrontation ahead. Each of them knew what they had to do, and there was no time for hesitation.
Beomgyu grabbed a small toolkit from his backpack and headed toward the staircase. The creaking steps groaned under his weight as he ascended, the old wood threatening to give way beneath him. He paused for a moment at the top, glancing down at his friends below, before disappearing into the shadows of the upper level. He needed to find the right spot—somewhere the killer wouldn’t expect, where he could rig his trap without being detected.
Jaehyun, meanwhile, moved through the darkened hallways, his phone in hand as he searched for a room with a better signal. The ancient walls of the theater made it difficult to get a good connection, but he was determined to set up his camera feed. If they were going to lure the killer here, they needed eyes everywhere. He pushed open door after door, the faint glow of his phone screen casting eerie shadows as he searched for the perfect vantage point.
In the dim light of the main theater, Sunoo and Yeonjun stood together near the stage, their eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of movement. The vast emptiness of the space around them felt suffocating, each creak and rustle sending their nerves on edge.
“This place is like a maze,” Sunoo muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Do you really think we can pull this off?”
“We have to,” Yeonjun replied, his tone firm, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of doubt. “We don’t have any other choice. We’re all in now.”
Sunoo nodded, trying to push aside his lingering fears. He glanced at Yeonjun, noticing the way his friend’s jaw was set, the determination etched on his face. “How are you holding up?” Sunoo asked softly, hoping to offer some comfort.
Yeonjun shrugged, his gaze fixed on the shadows that loomed around them. “Honestly? I’m terrified,” he admitted, his voice raw. “But if we don’t do this, more people are going to die. I can’t let that happen.”
“Neither can I,” Sunoo agreed, his voice steadier now. “We’ll get through this. Together.”
As they exchanged a small, reassuring nod, Soobin slipped away quietly, heading toward the back of the theater where the restrooms were. The flickering lights above cast a dim glow as he entered the bathroom, the heavy door creaking shut behind him. The silence was oppressive, and every sound seemed amplified—the drip of a faucet, the echo of his footsteps on the tiled floor.
Soobin splashed some water on his face, staring at his reflection in the cracked mirror. His mind was racing, filled with the weight of what was happening, and the guilt of knowing he was the reason Yeonjun was here. He needed a moment to collect himself, to push aside the fear gnawing at his insides.
Back in the theater, Sunoo and Yeonjun remained on high alert, their eyes darting to every corner, every shadow. The seconds ticked by slowly, each one feeling like an eternity.
“You think they’ll come?” Sunoo asked, breaking the tense silence.
“They will,” Yeonjun said with a grim certainty. “The killer wants this. They’ve been waiting for us to make a move. Now, we’ve given them the stage.”
The thought sent a chill down Sunoo’s spine, but he forced himself to stay calm. They were in this together, and there was no room for doubt. He tightened his grip on the small knife he had taken from Beomgyu’s kit, the cold metal comforting in his hand.
“We’ll be ready,” Sunoo said, more to himself than to Yeonjun.
The theater was quiet, save for the distant sounds of Beomgyu and Jaehyun preparing above and around them. The tension built with every passing moment, the anticipation of what was to come hanging heavy in the air.
Yeonjun glanced at Sunoo, offering a small, reassuring smile. “No matter what happens, we stick together, okay?”
“Okay,” Sunoo agreed, his voice filled with determination. “We stick together.”
And with that, the two of them stood their ground, waiting for the inevitable.
======================================================
The clock above the theater’s stage ticked ominously, its sound echoing through the cavernous space. Sunoo and Yeonjun were stationed near the front of the stage, their breaths coming in measured, uneasy intervals. The adrenaline that had initially charged them now simmered into a taut, tense calm as they waited for their enemy to make their move.
Sunoo’s eyes were distant as he stared into the darkness, his mind clearly elsewhere. Yeonjun, noticing the distraction, turned to him with a concerned look. “Hey, Sunoo, you alright?”
Sunoo sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging as he met Yeonjun’s gaze. “I keep thinking about my dad. I didn’t get to say goodbye properly. I was so focused on trying to stop the killer that I never really dealt with… you know, losing him.”
Yeonjun’s expression softened, and he nodded understandingly. “I get it. Losing someone like that, especially under these circ*mstances… it’s a lot to handle. I’m sorry, Sunoo.”
“It’s just hard,” Sunoo admitted, his voice tinged with sorrow. “He was always so strong, so protective. I feel like I failed him. And now… here we are.”
Yeonjun placed a comforting hand on Sunoo’s shoulder, his grip firm but reassuring. “You didn’t fail him. You’re doing everything you can to stop this from happening to anyone else. You’re being brave, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”
Sunoo managed a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Yeonjun. I needed to hear that.”
Just as Yeonjun was about to respond, a sudden, sharp sound broke through the quiet—the unmistakable whoosh of the theater’s front doors being violently flung open. The room seemed to freeze, and then the lights flickered erratically before plunging them into near darkness. Sunoo’s heart leaped into his throat as the unmistakable figure of Ghostface appeared, the mask’s eerie grin illuminated by sporadic flashes of light.
“Yeonjun!” Sunoo shouted, panic rising in his voice. “It’s the killer!”
Ghostface lunged forward, his knife gleaming menacingly as he charged at them. Yeonjun barely had time to react as he grabbed Sunoo’s arm, trying to pull him away, but the killer was relentless.
The theater became a maze of shadows and chaos. Sunoo and Yeonjun sprinted down the aisles, their footsteps pounding against the floor as Ghostface pursued them. The killer’s footsteps echoed ominously behind them, growing closer with every heartbeat.
“We need to get out of here!” Yeonjun yelled, his breath ragged as he glanced over his shoulder.
“I’m trying!” Sunoo gasped, but the exertion and fear were taking their toll.
Suddenly, Ghostface lunged forward, catching Sunoo off guard. The killer’s knife slashed through the air and embedded itself in Sunoo’s back with a sickening thud. Sunoo cried out in pain, collapsing to the floor as the blade twisted cruelly.
“Sunoo!” Yeonjun screamed, his heart pounding with terror. He skidded to a halt, his gaze fixed on Sunoo’s crumpled form. Ghostface, satisfied with the damage done, began to retreat, but Yeonjun wasn’t about to let the killer escape.
He drew the handgun he’d stolen from the dead cop, his hands trembling as he took aim and fired a shot into the darkness. The bullet whizzed past Ghostface, who ducked and darted down the nearest exit, vanishing into the shadows.
Yeonjun sprinted after the killer, but Ghostface was already gone, disappearing into the labyrinthine corridors of the theater. Breathless and frustrated, Yeonjun finally came to a stop, his heart racing as he scanned the darkened space for any sign of the killer.
Meanwhile, Soobin, who had just emerged from the restroom, came running toward the source of the commotion. His eyes widened in horror as he saw Sunoo lying on the floor, the blood pooling around him.
“Oh my God, Sunoo!” Soobin exclaimed, rushing to his friend’s side. He knelt down, his hands shaking as he assessed the injury. “Hang in there, okay? I’m going to help you.”
Sunoo’s face was pale, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. “Soobin… it hurts…”
“I know,” Soobin said, his voice steadier than he felt. “Just stay with me. I’m going to stop the bleeding.”
Soobin quickly ripped a strip of fabric from his shirt, pressing it against Sunoo’s wound in a desperate attempt to stem the flow of blood. Sunoo winced in pain, his eyes fluttering as he fought to stay conscious.
Yeonjun finally returned to the scene, his face flushed with exertion and frustration. “I lost him,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. “I couldn’t catch him.”
“We need to get Sunoo out of here,” Soobin said urgently, still applying pressure to the wound. “He’s losing too much blood.”
Yeonjun nodded, his resolve hardening as he glanced around. “I’ll find help. Stay with him, Soobin.”
Soobin nodded, his eyes filled with determination as he continued to tend to Sunoo. “I will.”
As Yeonjun sprinted toward the theater’s exit, desperate to find assistance, Soobin remained by Sunoo’s side, his heart aching with worry. The night had taken a dark turn, and the battle was far from over. But for now, their priority was clear—keep Sunoo alive and hope that they could still turn the tide against the killer.
======================================================
The theater was a cacophony of shouts and footsteps as Yeonjun raced through the darkened hallways, his mind whirling with a mixture of fear and determination. The sight of Sunoo injured and the sound of Ghostface’s menacing laughter still echoed in his mind, but now, a new urgency had gripped him. Beomgyu was missing, and a chilling text message had just compounded their problems.
Yeonjun burst into the theater’s main lobby, where Soobin was still tending to Sunoo, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of an emergency light. The sight of Soobin's frantic attempts to stabilize Sunoo was a stark reminder of the night’s horrors. Yeonjun’s phone buzzed urgently in his pocket, pulling him out of his daze. He fumbled with the device, pulling up the new message.
The text was brief but terrifying: “Come rescue Beomgyu or else.” Attached was a picture that made Yeonjun’s blood run cold. Beomgyu was slumped unconscious in a chair, bound and restrained. The dim light revealed the background—a dilapidated, unsettling space that Yeonjun recognized immediately: the old orphanage where Hanbin’s body had been discovered.
“No,” Yeonjun muttered, staring at the image in horror. His eyes darted up to Soobin, who was still focused on Sunoo, oblivious to the new threat. “Soobin!” Yeonjun’s voice cut through the air, laced with desperation. “We need to move. Beomgyu’s in danger.”
Soobin looked up, his face pale but resolute. “What happened?”
“Look at this,” Yeonjun said, thrusting his phone into Soobin’s hands. Soobin’s eyes widened as he took in the photo, the grim reality sinking in.
“We need to get to him,” Soobin said urgently, setting Sunoo’s wound with a final tight bandage. “I can’t leave Sunoo alone. If the killer comes back, he’ll be in danger.”
Yeonjun’s heart sank, but he knew there was no other choice. “I understand. I’ll go. Just stay here and make sure Sunoo’s alright.”
Soobin nodded, his expression a mix of determination and helplessness. “Be careful, Yeonjun. We need to end this.”
“I will,” Yeonjun promised. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Yeonjun sprinted out of the theater, his mind racing as he made his way to his car. The abandoned orphanage loomed large in his thoughts, its dark history intertwined with the horror that had befallen their town. As he drove, the flickering streetlights cast eerie shadows across the road, and every bump and turn seemed to heighten his anxiety.
When he arrived at the orphanage, the building stood as a foreboding silhouette against the night sky. The windows were dark, and the overgrown foliage around the structure gave it an even more sinister appearance. Yeonjun swallowed hard, steeling himself for whatever lay ahead.
He approached the door cautiously, finding it slightly ajar, as if inviting him into the darkness. He pushed it open and stepped inside, the musty air hitting him like a wall. The old wooden floors creaked beneath his feet as he moved silently through the corridors, his senses on high alert.
The sight of the old orphanage was haunting. The walls were stained with time and neglect, and broken furniture littered the floor. As Yeonjun advanced, he could hear the faint sound of someone struggling, punctuated by the occasional metallic clink.
He followed the sound until he reached a large, dusty room. There, in the center, was Beomgyu, tied to a chair in a dimly lit corner. His head hung low, and his body was slumped with exhaustion. The sight of his friend in such a vulnerable state spurred Yeonjun into action.
“Beomgyu!” Yeonjun called softly but urgently, moving toward him.
Beomgyu stirred, his eyes blinking open. He looked disoriented but managed to focus on Yeonjun. “Yeonjun… you found me.”
Yeonjun’s heart was pounding as he carefully untied Beomgyu from the chair in the dark, dilapidated room of the orphanage. The ropes fell away, and Beomgyu shakily stood up, his eyes filled with gratitude and exhaustion.
“We need to get out of here,” Yeonjun said urgently. “Are you able to walk?”
Beomgyu nodded weakly, and just as they were about to make their escape, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway. Yeonjun and Beomgyu turned to see Soobin rushing toward them, his face etched with relief and determination.
“Soobin!” Yeonjun called out, his voice a mix of surprise and relief. “You came!”
“Soobin!” Beomgyu echoed, stumbling toward him.
But before Soobin could reach them, another figure appeared in the doorway—Jiung, his clothes disheveled and bloodied, a wild look in his eyes. The sight of him caused Yeonjun’s heart to skip a beat.
“Jiung?” Yeonjun’s voice was edged with confusion. “What are you doing here?”
Jiung's eyes darted between Yeonjun and Soobin, a sneer twisting his lips. “I came to finish what Soobin started. He’s the one who stabbed me!” Jiung accused, pointing a shaky finger at Soobin. His tone was bitter, a mix of anger and pain.
Soobin’s face paled, his expression one of shock and betrayal. “What? That’s not true! I didn’t—”
Before Soobin could defend himself further, Jiung lunged at him, his movements frantic and fueled by rage. “You’re going to pay for what you did!”
Yeonjun’s instincts kicked in. He pulled out the handgun he’d taken from the dead cop and aimed it at Jiung. “Stop right there!” he shouted.
Jiung’s attack faltered momentarily as he glanced at Yeonjun, but his rage was overpowering. He continued to advance on Soobin, his eyes locked onto him with murderous intent.
“No!” Yeonjun yelled, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation. He squeezed the trigger, and the gunshot echoed through the old building with a deafening blast.
Jiung’s body jerked violently as the bullet struck him, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief. He staggered back, his hands clutching at the wound, but his strength was waning. He collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath as he stared up at the ceiling.
“Soobin!” Yeonjun called out, rushing to his friend’s side. “Are you alright?”
Soobin, still in shock, nodded slowly, his face ashen. “Yeah… I’m okay. Thanks to you.”
Beomgyu, now free, moved to Soobin’s side, his expression a mix of concern and gratitude. “What’s going on? Why did Jiung attack?”
“He claimed that Soobin was responsible for his injuries,” Yeonjun explained quickly, still keeping a wary eye on Jiung’s prone form. “But it doesn’t add up. There’s something off about this whole situation.”
Jiung, barely clinging to life, managed to croak out one final, incoherent sentence before his breaths ceased. “It’s not what it… seems…”
His voice trailed off as his eyes glazed over, the life leaving his body. The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of what had just happened settling over the group.
Yeonjun holstered his gun and took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. “We need to get out of here. The police will be looking for us, and we need to make sure we’re safe.”
Soobin nodded, his face pale but resolute. “Agreed. Let’s go.”
======================================================
The theater’s dim lighting cast long, eerie shadows across the abandoned seats as Yeonjun, Beomgyu, and Soobin reentered the main auditorium. The air was thick with tension and uncertainty. Sunoo and Jaehyun, both still visibly shaken from the earlier chaos, looked up with a mix of relief and curiosity as the group approached.
“Are you alright?” Sunoo asked, his voice shaky but filled with concern.
“Yeah, we’re okay,” Yeonjun replied, his gaze shifting between Sunoo and Jaehyun. “We got Beomgyu out of the orphanage. We’ve still got to figure out what’s going on.”
Jaehyun, still recovering from his own injuries, managed a weak smile. “Glad you’re all safe. But what’s the plan now?”
Before anyone could respond, Soobin, who had been quiet and subdued throughout the ordeal, suddenly moved with a fluid, unsettling grace. He stepped forward, his eyes steely and unreadable. Yeonjun, sensing something was off, watched him closely.
“Soobin, what’s wrong?” Yeonjun asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.
Without warning, Soobin’s hand shot out, grabbing the gun from Yeonjun’s belt with a swift, practiced motion. The cold metal felt heavy in his grasp as he leveled it at the group. The click of the safety being released echoed ominously through the theater.
“Wait, what are you—” Yeonjun’s voice faltered as he took in the scene before him.
Soobin’s gaze was cold, unyielding. “I’m afraid things are not what they seem.”
The realization hit Yeonjun like a sledgehammer. His mind raced back through the past year, to moments of trust and intimacy with Soobin. The long conversations, the shared secrets, the times Soobin had been his rock. It was all a façade, meticulously crafted deception.
“No…” Yeonjun whispered, his voice barely audible. “Soobin… you’re the killer?”
Soobin’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “It took you long enough to figure it out. I had to make sure everything went according to plan. And now, here we are.”
The room fell into a stunned silence, the weight of the revelation sinking in. Beomgyu’s eyes were wide with shock, while Sunoo and Jaehyun exchanged bewildered glances.
Yeonjun watched as Soobin's eyes met his. “Soobin… why?” he asked, his voice filled with a mixture of sorrow and anger.
Soobin’s lips twisted into a pained smile. “You want to know why? It’s quite simple, really.”
Beomgyu, who had been standing in stunned silence, finally found his voice. “What’s your deal with Hanbin? Why target us?”
Soobin took a ragged breath, his gaze shifting between Yeonjun and Beomgyu. “Hanbin and I were close. We grew up together. We were like family. But when Beomgyu killed him, it tore something inside me. I wanted revenge. And when the opportunity presented itself, I took it.”
Yeonjun’s eyes widened in shock. “You were friends with Hanbin? But why go this far? Why frame us for these murders?”
Soobin’s expression darkened as he struggled to sit up. “Because I wanted to make sure that both of you paid for what happened. Beomgyu for killing Hanbin and you, Yeonjun, for being close to him. I hoped to make it look like you were behind everything, to ruin your lives and then end them.”
Sunoo’s face was a mixture of disbelief and sorrow. “So, you were planning to kill us all along?”
“Yes,” Soobin admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “I intended to frame you for the murders, then eliminate you both. I wanted to be the puppet master, pulling the strings while watching you all suffer.”
Jaehyun, who had been listening in grim silence, finally spoke up. “And what about Jiung? He claimed you were responsible for his injuries.”
Soobin’s eyes flickered with a hint of bitterness. “Jiung was a means to an end. I needed someone to stir the pot and create more confusion. When he became a liability, I decided it was better to eliminate him. He was getting too close to the truth.”
Yeonjun’s grip tightened on the gun as he stared down at Soobin, a mixture of anger and sadness in his eyes. “You betrayed us all. You used us as pawns in your twisted game.”
Soobin’s head lolled back against the floor, his strength fading. “I did what I had to do,” he said with a final, weary sigh. “I wanted to make sure Hanbin’s death meant something. Even if it meant my own downfall.”
The group stood in somber silence as Soobin’s words echoed through the theater. The reality of the betrayal was heavy, the weight of the past year finally coming to light. The tension of the night was palpable as the truth was laid bare.
Yeonjun, his voice steady but filled with pain, finally spoke. “It’s over now. We need to get help and make sure this ends. We need to put an end to this nightmare.”
======================================================
The theater was a chaotic battlefield of sound and shadows as Yeonjun and Beomgyu pursued Soobin through the winding corridors. Gunfire echoed off the walls, punctuated by the clatter of footsteps and the desperate breaths of the combatants.
Soobin, though weakened, moved with a frantic energy, darting around corners and weaving through the darkened aisles. The determination in his eyes was fierce, but his movements were growing increasingly erratic.
Yeonjun’s heart pounded as he rounded a corner, narrowly missing another blast of gunfire. “Beomgyu, keep him in sight!” he shouted, his voice strained with effort.
Beomgyu, already winded but determined, followed closely behind, his eyes locked on Soobin. “I’ve got him!”
Finally, after a tense chase, Beomgyu managed to corner Soobin in the backstage area of the theater. With a powerful shove, he forced Soobin against a wall, the gun still clutched in his trembling hands.
“Enough, Soobin!” Beomgyu shouted, his voice echoing through the dimly lit space. “It’s over!”
Soobin, breathing heavily and with a wild, defiant gleam in his eye, stared at them with a twisted grin. “You think you’ve won? Go ahead. If you’ve got the guts, kill me. I dare you.”
Yeonjun, his own breath coming in ragged gasps, stepped forward, his face a mixture of anger and resolve. “We’re not going to stoop to your level. We’re better than that.”
“So you’re just going to let me walk away?” Soobin sneered, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of doubt.
“No,” Yeonjun said firmly. “But we’re not going to kill you. You’ll face justice for what you’ve done.”
Before Soobin could respond, the sound of sirens pierced through the theater’s chaos. The heavy footsteps of approaching police officers grew louder, and soon the theater’s entrance was filled with flashing lights and the authoritative commands of law enforcement.
Sheriff Jiwoong, leading the charge, burst into the backstage area with a determined look on his face. His eyes took in the scene—the disheveled figures of Yeonjun and Beomgyu, the battered Soobin, and the aftermath of the night’s violence.
“Drop the gun, Yeonjun,” Sheriff Jiwoong ordered, his voice steady but firm. “We’ve got this.”
Yeonjun, his hands still shaking, carefully lowered the weapon and let it fall to the ground. “He’s all yours, Sheriff.”
As the officers moved in to apprehend Soobin, his defiant posture faltered. The reality of his situation began to sink in, and the defiant grin faded into a bitter scowl.
“Soobin Choi,” Sheriff Jiwoong said as he placed the handcuffs on Soobin’s wrists. “You’re under arrest for the murders in Lakewood. You have the right to remain silent…”
Soobin’s eyes met Yeonjun’s one last time, a flicker of something unreadable passing between them. “You think this is over?” he spat. “There’s more to come.”
“We’ll see about that,” Yeonjun replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. “For now, you’ll face justice.”
As the officers led Soobin away, the tension in the theater began to dissipate, replaced by a heavy silence. Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Sunoo, and Jaehyun stood together, each of them bearing the marks of the night’s ordeal.
Sunoo, still visibly shaken but resolute, approached Yeonjun and Beomgyu. “I called the police as soon as I realized what was happening.”
“It’s okay,” Yeonjun said, his voice softening. “You did what you could.”
Jaehyun, still recovering from his own injuries, nodded in agreement. “It’s over now. We can finally put this behind us.”
As the first light of dawn began to filter through the theater’s windows, the group stood in silence, the weight of their shared experiences settling over them. The nightmare was finally coming to an end, but the scars of the night would remain.
With Soobin in custody and the truth finally exposed, they began to take their first tentative steps toward healing. The road ahead was uncertain, but they faced it together, bound by the trials they had endured and the hope of a future free from the shadows of the past.
======================================================
Three months had passed since the night of terror at the theater. The dark clouds of their past had lifted, and life in Lakewood had slowly begun to return to a semblance of normalcy. The survivors of the nightmare had found their own ways to heal and move forward.
In a sunlit studio apartment, Leehan sat at his drawing table, a satisfied smile on his face as he added the final touches to his latest piece. The room was filled with sketches and art supplies, a testament to his creativity and dedication. His latest creation was a vibrant, heartwarming group portrait of the survivors—Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Sunoo, Jaehyun, and himself. They were depicted in a light-hearted and whimsical manner, their faces full of joy and relief.
Leehan’s phone buzzed with a message from Sunoo, who was visiting to pick up the drawing for an upcoming charity event.
**Sunoo:** *“Can’t wait to see the finished piece! It’s going to be perfect for the event.”*
Leehan replied with a grin as he carefully packed the drawing.
**Leehan:** *“I hope so! I wanted to capture how far we’ve come. See you soon.”*
Meanwhile, Jaehyun was back in his hospital room, though he had recovered well enough to return to a normal routine. He was now recording his podcast, a project he had resumed with renewed vigor. Despite the end of the horror, he still had content to address, including reflections on their journey and the impact of the events on their lives.
Sitting at his desk, Jaehyun adjusted the microphone and hit the record button. His voice, steady and confident, filled the room.
“Hello, everyone, and welcome back to ‘Reflections of Lakewood.’ It’s been a few months since we last spoke, and I’m grateful to be here, sharing this moment with all of you. Today’s episode is a bit of a reflection on what we’ve been through and how we’re moving forward.”
As Jaehyun spoke, the door to his room opened, and Sunoo walked in, carrying Leehan’s drawing. He looked around the room and smiled.
“Hey, Jaehyun. I brought you something. Leehan finished the drawing.”
Jaehyun paused his recording and looked up, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the artwork. “That’s great! I’ve been looking forward to seeing it. Let me take a look.”
Sunoo carefully unrolled the drawing and held it up for Jaehyun to see. The group portrait was lively and filled with vibrant colors, capturing the essence of each person’s personality.
“It’s beautiful,” Jaehyun said, his voice filled with emotion. “Leehan really captured us in a way that’s both touching and hopeful.”
“Yeah,” Sunoo agreed, “it’s a reminder of how far we’ve come and the strength we’ve found in each other.”
Jaehyun nodded, his gaze lingering on the drawing. “It’s nice to have something like this to remind us of the good times. Even though things have been tough, we’ve come out stronger.”
Sunoo sat down beside Jaehyun, his expression thoughtful. “It’s been a journey, hasn’t it? I think we’ve all learned a lot about ourselves and each other.”
Jaehyun resumed his recording, his tone reflecting the hope and resilience of their group. “We’ve faced incredible challenges and come through on the other side. And though we’ve had our struggles, we’ve also found moments of joy and connection that have helped us heal.”
As Jaehyun continued his podcast, Sunoo listened with a sense of relief and pride. The podcast was a way to process their experiences and share their story with others, and it was clear that Jaehyun had found a way to channel his thoughts into something positive and constructive.
After the recording was complete, Jaehyun looked at Sunoo with a grateful smile. “Thanks for bringing the drawing. It’s a great way to end the day.”
Sunoo returned the smile. “Anytime. We’re all in this together, and it’s important to remember that.”
As they chatted, the atmosphere in the room was light and hopeful. The scars of the past were still there, but they were gradually fading, replaced by a sense of renewal and the promise of a brighter future. The group had come through their ordeal with a stronger bond and a deeper appreciation for the connections they shared.
In the warmth of the hospital room, surrounded by the familiar faces of friends and the hope of new beginnings, they were ready to face whatever the future held—together.
======================================================
Yeonjun and Beomgyu sat on the rooftop of their favorite café, overlooking the city as the sun dipped below the horizon. The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over the two friends. They were enjoying a rare moment of peace, savoring the calm after the storm of their past few months.
Beomgyu, sipping his coffee and gazing out at the view, turned to Yeonjun with a grin. “You know, it’s kind of surreal to think about everything that’s happened. We made it through all of that.”
Yeonjun nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Yeah, it feels like a lifetime ago. Sometimes, I still can’t believe how crazy things got.”
Beomgyu leaned back in his chair, his eyes reflecting the fading light. “It’s been a wild ride. But I’m really glad Soobin’s in jail. It’s like a weight has been lifted off our shoulders.”
Yeonjun’s smile was bittersweet as he looked down at his coffee cup. “It’s a relief, for sure. But sometimes, I can’t help but feel burdened. I mean, I was dating a killer. It’s hard to shake that off.”
Beomgyu’s expression softened as he reached out to pat Yeonjun’s hand. “I get it. It’s tough to come to terms with that. But remember, Soobin was the one who made those choices. You didn’t know what he was hiding.”
“I know,” Yeonjun said, his voice tinged with frustration. “But it doesn’t make it any easier. I keep replaying things in my mind, wondering if I missed any signs.”
“You did everything you could,” Beomgyu reassured him. “You weren’t responsible for Soobin’s actions. It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling, but don’t blame yourself. We’ve all been through so much, and we’re still here.”
Yeonjun took a deep breath, trying to push away the lingering doubts. “I guess you’re right. It’s just hard to reconcile the person I thought I knew with the reality of who Soobin turned out to be.”
“Yeah, it’s definitely a challenge,” Beomgyu agreed. “But we’ve come out stronger on the other side. And we’ve got each other. That’s what matters.”
Yeonjun’s gaze shifted back to the cityscape, his mind still heavy with the past. “I suppose it’s a process. And I’m grateful for friends like you who’ve stuck by me.”
Beomgyu’s grin widened as he clinked his coffee cup against Yeonjun’s. “To making it through the storm and finding our way back to the light. We’re stronger than ever, and we’ve got a whole new chapter ahead of us.”
As the evening deepened and the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Yeonjun and Beomgyu continued their conversation, finding comfort in each other’s presence. The past was a complex web of memories and emotions, but they were determined to face it together, ready to embrace the future with hope and resilience.
Their laughter and shared stories filled the rooftop, a testament to their enduring friendship and the strength they had found in each other. Despite the shadows of the past, the light of their connection shone brightly, guiding them forward into a new, hopeful chapter of their lives.
Chapter 23: Halloween Part 1
Chapter Text
[3 months later]
The courtroom was filled with a tense silence as the judge delivered the verdict. Soobin stood at the defendant’s table, his face pale but expressionless. The words echoed through the chamber: “The defendant, Soobin, is hereby sentenced to death by lethal injection.”
A murmur swept through the spectators, but Soobin remained still, his eyes fixed straight ahead. He had known this was coming, but the finality of the words still sent a chill down his spine. The guards moved to escort him out, their hands gripping his arms with a mix of caution and force.
As he was led through the cold, sterile corridors of the courthouse, Soobin’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The faces of his victims flashed before him, along with the memories of the twisted path that had brought him here. He had lost everything—his freedom, his life, and the trust of the one person he had cared about, Yeonjun.
The guards said nothing as they marched him toward the holding cell. Soobin could hear the faint buzzing of the fluorescent lights overhead, the distant hum of the city outside. It all felt surreal, like a bad dream he couldn’t wake up from.
As they reached the cell, one of the guards, a burly man with a stern expression, unlocked the door and shoved Soobin inside. The door clanged shut behind him, and the guards turned to leave.
But before they could take a step, the corridor lights flickered. The air grew heavy with a sudden, suffocating tension. Soobin’s heart pounded in his chest as he instinctively knew something was wrong.
From the shadows at the end of the corridor, a figure emerged—draped in black, with a haunting white mask that sent a shiver down Soobin’s spine. Ghostface.
One of the guards turned, confusion etched on his face. “Hey, who—”
He never finished his sentence. In a swift, brutal movement, Ghostface lunged at the guard, grabbing his head and twisting it with an unnatural force. The sickening crack of bones filled the air as the guard’s neck snapped, his head twisted 180 degrees. The lifeless body crumpled to the floor.
The other guard barely had time to react before Ghostface was on him, slashing with the glinting knife. Blood sprayed across the walls as the second guard fell, his throat slit open, his body twitching in its final moments.
Soobin’s breath caught in his throat as Ghostface turned toward him, the mask’s empty eyes locking onto his. Panic surged through him, but there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. He was trapped.
“You…” Soobin whispered, his voice trembling. “Why?”
Ghostface didn’t answer, didn’t pause. With deadly precision, the killer closed the distance between them, raising the knife high. Soobin backed into the corner of his cell, his eyes wide with terror.
“No… please…” His plea was barely a whisper.
But Ghostface showed no mercy. In one swift motion, the killer grabbed Soobin by the hair, yanking his head back. The blade flashed in the dim light as it sliced across Soobin’s throat, severing flesh and arteries with a gruesome efficiency. Blood poured from the wound, soaking the front of Soobin’s prison uniform as his body convulsed in agony.
The world around him blurred, the edges of his vision darkening as the pain consumed him. Ghostface released him, letting his body slump to the floor in a growing pool of blood. Soobin’s eyes fluttered, his consciousness slipping away as the life drained from his body.
The last thing he saw was the figure of Ghostface, standing over him, the cold, emotionless mask staring down as if savoring the moment. And then, everything went black.
The cell fell silent, save for the soft drip of blood onto the cold, hard floor. Ghostface wiped the blade clean with a swift motion and disappeared back into the shadows, leaving behind the carnage and the lifeless bodies of the condemned and his captors.
The nightmare that Soobin had once orchestrated had come full circle, ending in the darkness of his own making.
======================================================
The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden hue over the rolling fields of the farm upstate, where Tiffany and Yeonjun sat on the porch steps. The quiet of the countryside was a welcome contrast to the noise and chaos of their recent lives in Lakewood, but the serenity did little to ease the tension between mother and son.
Tiffany glanced at Yeonjun, who was staring off into the distance, lost in his thoughts. She sighed softly, trying to find the right words. “You know, Yeonjun, I’ve been thinking… maybe we could skip Halloween this year. Just stay in, watch some movies, make it a quiet night.”
Yeonjun’s gaze didn’t waver from the horizon. “I don’t really care about Halloween anymore,” he said, his voice flat. “It’s just another reminder of everything that’s happened.”
Tiffany nodded, sensing the weight of his words. “I get that. It’s been hard for all of us. But maybe… maybe we could focus on the future instead? Start thinking about college, planning some visits. It could be a good distraction.”
Yeonjun finally turned to look at her, his expression pained. “Mom, I don’t want to talk about college. I don’t want to plan anything. I just want to forget all of it.”
Tiffany’s heart ached at the sight of her son so burdened by the past. She reached out to touch his arm, but before she could say anything, the sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel driveway caught their attention.
They both turned to see Sunoo walking toward them, his face drawn and serious. Tiffany stood up, a look of surprise crossing her face. “Sunoo? What are you doing here?”
Sunoo offered a weak smile, but his eyes were filled with a sadness that immediately put Yeonjun on edge. “I wanted to check on Yeonjun,” Sunoo replied, his voice tinged with hesitation. “After everything… I thought he might need a friend.”
Yeonjun stood as well, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Sunoo, what’s going on? Why do you look like that?”
Sunoo took a deep breath, his gaze flicking between Yeonjun and Tiffany. “I didn’t want to be the one to tell you this, but… you need to know.” He paused, his hands trembling slightly. “Soobin… Soobin was killed last night.”
The world seemed to tilt on its axis as the words left Sunoo’s lips. Tiffany gasped, covering her mouth with her hand, while Yeonjun stared at Sunoo in disbelief. “What… what are you talking about?” Yeonjun stammered, his voice barely a whisper.
Sunoo’s eyes were filled with sorrow as he took a step closer to Yeonjun. “I’m so sorry. The police found him this morning. It was… brutal.”
Yeonjun’s knees threatened to give out beneath him as the reality of Sunoo’s words crashed over him. “No… no, this can’t be happening,” he murmured, shaking his head as if trying to wake himself from a nightmare. “He was supposed to be in jail. He was supposed to… why?”
Tiffany reached out to steady her son, her own face pale with shock. “Oh my God, Yeonjun… I’m so sorry.”
Sunoo placed a hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder, his touch gentle but grounding. “I know this is the last thing you wanted to hear, but you need to know the truth. Soobin’s gone.”
Yeonjun pulled away from both of them, his breathing ragged as he tried to process the news. “Why did it have to end like this?” he asked, his voice cracking under the weight of his grief. “I wanted to hate him for what he did, but… he didn’t deserve to die like that.”
Tiffany moved closer, wrapping her arms around her son in a protective embrace. “We’ll get through this, Yeonjun,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “We’ll get through it together.”
Yeonjun allowed himself to be held, the tears he’d been holding back finally spilling over as he buried his face in his mother’s shoulder. Sunoo stood by, his own heart breaking for his friend, feeling helpless in the face of such pain.
The three of them stood there on the porch, the weight of the news pressing down on them like a heavy shroud. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the farm, as the reality of Soobin’s death settled in.
Halloween, college, the future—none of it seemed to matter anymore. All that remained were the ghosts of the past, haunting them with the memories of what they had lost.
======================================================
The room buzzed with the hum of anticipation as Jaehyun and Leehan sat across from their publisher, Sungho. The office was sleek, modern, and filled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee, but the tension was palpable. Sungho leaned back in his leather chair, a satisfied grin playing on his lips as he flipped through the pages of the latest draft.
“You two have really outdone yourselves this time,” Sungho said, his eyes gleaming with admiration as he closed the manuscript. “The story, the artwork—it’s all brilliant. Sales are through the roof, and people can’t get enough of your take on Lakewood’s bloody history.”
Jaehyun managed a small smile, but his mind was elsewhere. The success of their true-crime graphic novel had been overwhelming, but with it came an unexpected pressure. He was supposed to be thrilled, but instead, he felt empty, the spark that once fueled his creativity now dulled by the weight of expectation.
Leehan, ever the observant one, noticed the distant look in Jaehyun’s eyes. He nudged him with an elbow, a small smirk on his lips. “Jaehyun, aren’t you going to say anything? Sungho’s practically showering us with praise here.”
Jaehyun snapped out of his thoughts, forcing a grin. “Yeah, it’s… amazing. I’m glad people are enjoying it.”
Sungho raised an eyebrow, sensing the lack of enthusiasm. “Glad? You should be ecstatic. You’ve tapped into something that resonates with people, Jaehyun. But… I get the feeling you’re not quite there.”
Leehan chimed in, leaning forward with an air of excitement. “That’s because Jaehyun’s got writer’s block. He’s been staring at blank pages for days now.”
Sungho frowned, his fingers drumming on the desk. “Writer’s block, huh? That’s not what I like to hear, especially when we’re on the brink of something even bigger.”
Jaehyun sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Sungho. It’s like… everything I try to write feels forced, like I’m just rehashing the same story over and over. Lakewood’s history is rich, but I’m stuck.”
Sungho’s gaze sharpened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, maybe it’s time to shake things up a bit. You know, there’s a place that might be exactly what you need—somewhere that could inspire a whole new level of storytelling.”
Jaehyun looked up, intrigued despite himself. “Where?”
“Murder Island,” Sungho said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s a small, isolated island not too far from here. The place is steeped in gruesome legends, and some say it’s haunted by the spirits of the victims who were never found. It’s got everything—a creepy atmosphere, a dark history, and plenty of mystery.”
Leehan’s eyes lit up, the prospect of a new adventure sending a thrill through him. “Murder Island? That sounds like the perfect setting for our next project. Just imagine the stories we could tell, Jaehyun. We could create something truly terrifying.”
Jaehyun hesitated, the name alone sending a shiver down his spine. He wasn’t sure he wanted to dive into another blood-soaked tale, especially one with such a sinister reputation. But as he glanced at Leehan and Sungho, both of them eager and expectant, he felt a flicker of the old excitement.
“Are you serious about this?” Jaehyun asked, his voice tinged with skepticism. “Murder Island? It sounds like something out of a bad horror movie.”
Sungho chuckled, but there was a seriousness in his tone. “Oh, I’m serious. The place is real, and it’s got a history that’ll make your skin crawl. Think of it as a research trip—a chance to break out of your creative rut and find that spark again.”
Leehan leaned in, his voice soft but insistent. “Come on, Jaehyun. We’re good together, right? We’ve already made something amazing, but we can take it further. This island could be our next big thing.”
Jaehyun studied Leehan’s face, seeing the genuine passion behind his words. It was that passion that had drawn him to Leehan in the first place—their shared love for storytelling, for uncovering the dark corners of human nature. Slowly, Jaehyun nodded.
“Okay,” he said, the decision forming in his mind. “Let’s do it. Let’s go to Murder Island.”
Sungho grinned, clapping his hands together. “That’s the spirit! I’ll make the arrangements. Trust me, this is going to be big.”
As they left Sungho’s office, Jaehyun couldn’t shake the feeling of foreboding that had settled in the pit of his stomach. Murder Island… it sounded like the kind of place where stories didn’t just stay on the page—they bled into reality. But maybe that was exactly what he needed.
Leehan, ever the optimist, slung an arm around Jaehyun’s shoulders. “This is going to be awesome, Jaehyun. Just you wait.”
Jaehyun offered a tentative smile, the flicker of excitement growing stronger. Whatever awaited them on Murder Island, one thing was certain: their next project was going to be unforgettable.
======================================================
The morning sun had barely risen over Lakewood, but the streets were already bustling with activity. Reporters swarmed the front of Yeonjun’s house, their cameras clicking and questions flying, all aimed at the boy who had unwittingly become the center of the town’s latest scandal.
Yeonjun kept his head down, his backpack slung over one shoulder, as he tried to navigate through the throng. The barrage of questions was relentless.
“Yeonjun! Any comment on Soobin’s death?”
“Do you think you’re safe?”
“How do you feel about being so close to the killer?”
Each question felt like a dagger, stabbing into wounds that were still too fresh. His breath quickened, and he could feel the panic rising in his chest. He couldn’t keep doing this. He needed to get away—away from the reporters, away from Lakewood, away from everything.
As if on cue, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He fumbled for it, grateful for the distraction. It was a message from Jaehyun.
Jaehyun: Hey, we’re heading out of town for a research trip. Leehan’s driving. You in?
Yeonjun didn’t need to think twice. His fingers flew across the screen.
Yeonjun: Yes. When and where?
A few hours later, Yeonjun was standing by the curb, waiting for the familiar beat-up van that Leehan drove everywhere. The air was crisp, and the quiet of the street was a stark contrast to the chaos he’d left behind. When the van finally pulled up, Yeonjun wasted no time hopping in.
Jaehyun, sitting in the passenger seat, turned around to greet him. “Hey, you look like you could use a break.”
“You have no idea,” Yeonjun muttered, slumping into the seat beside Sunoo, who was scrolling through his phone.
Leehan glanced at Yeonjun through the rearview mirror. “You’re lucky we’re getting out of here. I saw those reporters. Looked brutal.”
“Brutal’s an understatement,” Yeonjun replied with a sigh. He leaned his head back, letting the tension drain from his shoulders. “Thanks for letting me tag along. I needed this.”
Sunoo finally looked up, offering Yeonjun a small, sympathetic smile. “You’re not the only one. I think we all need a break from Lakewood.”
Jaehyun nodded in agreement. “We’ll be gone for a few days. Get our minds off things, focus on something else for a change.”
“Speaking of which,” Yeonjun said, “where’s Beomgyu? Isn’t he coming with us?”
“Still trying to convince his boyfriend,” Sunoo said, rolling his eyes. “You know how he is. He can’t do anything without checking with him first.”
“Yeah,” Jaehyun chuckled. “Beomgyu said he’d let us know soon. But I’m not holding my breath.”
Leehan smirked as he drove, his focus mostly on the road but clearly listening. “Honestly, Beomgyu could use a break from him. But I doubt he’ll come without his boyfriend’s approval.”
“His boyfriend needs to chill,” Yeonjun added, shaking his head. “But whatever. If Beomgyu wants to stay, that’s on him. I’m just glad to be getting out of here.”
Sunoo nudged Yeonjun with his elbow. “What about you? You sure you’re okay with leaving all this behind for a few days?”
Yeonjun thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. I am. This town… it’s too much right now. I need some space to breathe.”
“Then you’re in the right company,” Jaehyun said with a grin. “We’re gonna have a blast. Just us, the open road, and some weird research. What more could you want?”
Yeonjun couldn’t help but smile at Jaehyun’s enthusiasm. “You know what? That sounds perfect.”
As the van rolled out of town, the tension that had been knotting up inside Yeonjun began to ease. The further they drove from Lakewood, the lighter he felt. For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to relax, the promise of a few days of freedom and distraction just ahead.
======================================================
The dimly lit movie theater was abuzz with the excitement of Halloween night, the air thick with the smell of buttery popcorn and the faint echo of screams from the horror movie marathon playing in the background. Beomgyu leaned against the concession stand, his eyes darting around the room as he waited for Niki to finish serving the last of the customers. The theater was packed, but his mind was elsewhere, fixated on the trip to Murder Island that Jaehyun and Leehan had been planning.
Niki finally approached him, wiping his hands on a towel. His face lit up with a mischievous grin as he pulled Beomgyu into the shadows behind the concession stand. “So, how about we sneak into the back of the theater and find our own horror show?” Niki’s voice was low and playful, his fingers lightly brushing Beomgyu’s arm.
Beomgyu smiled, leaning in closer. “You always know how to make Halloween fun,” he said, his voice equally soft. But there was a hesitation in his eyes, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Niki.
“What’s up?” Niki asked, his playful tone shifting to one of concern. “You seem distracted. Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet about sneaking around during the movie.”
Beomgyu chuckled, shaking his head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just… Jaehyun and Leehan are planning this crazy trip to Murder Island, and they want me to go with them.”
Niki’s expression faltered for a moment, but he quickly masked it with a grin. “Murder Island? That sounds like the kind of place you’d be dying to go to,” he teased, though there was an edge to his words.
Beomgyu sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I am. But… I was hoping we could spend Halloween together, you know? And now I’m torn because this could be a once-in-a-lifetime thing.”
Niki’s smile faded, and he looked down at the floor, the playful spark in his eyes dimming. “You should go,” he said quietly, the words feeling heavy on his tongue. “It’s a big opportunity for you, and I don’t want to hold you back.”
Beomgyu frowned, sensing the reluctance in Niki’s voice. “But what about you? We had plans… and it won’t be the same without you.”
Niki shrugged, forcing a small smile as he looked back up at Beomgyu. “I can’t afford to miss work, and someone’s got to keep this place running while you’re off playing detective,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “Besides, I’ll be fine. You go have fun.”
Beomgyu reached out, gently cupping Niki’s face in his hands. “I don’t want to leave you behind,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly across Niki’s cheek. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
Niki leaned into the touch, closing his eyes for a moment. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I’ll be fine. Just… come back in one piece, okay? And maybe tell me some scary stories when you get back.”
Beomgyu leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Niki’s lips. “I’ll miss you,” he said, the words filled with sincerity. “But I’ll come back, and we’ll have our own Halloween, just the two of us.”
Niki smiled, the warmth returning to his eyes as he pulled Beomgyu closer. “You better,” he teased, though there was still a hint of sadness in his voice. “And maybe next time, we can go on an adventure together.”
Beomgyu nodded, hugging Niki tightly before reluctantly pulling away. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. “We’ll have the best Halloween ever, even if it’s a little late.”
Niki watched as Beomgyu turned to leave, a bittersweet smile on his face. He knew Beomgyu needed to go, but it didn’t make it any easier to let him. As he returned to the concession stand, the sounds of the horror movie marathon faded into the background, replaced by the quiet longing in his heart.
======================================================
The ferry ride to Murder Island had been uneventful, the rhythmic churning of the waves against the hull lulling the group into a false sense of calm. But as soon as they stepped onto the island, the atmosphere shifted. The air felt heavier, charged with an unspoken tension that settled in the pit of Beomgyu's stomach. The group trudged up the cobblestone path, their earlier enthusiasm dampened by the unsettling quiet that blanketed the island.
"Did either of you know this trip was supposed to be a murder investigation?" Beomgyu grumbled, glancing over at Yeonjun and Sunoo, who both looked equally displeased.
"Not a clue," Yeonjun muttered, his brows furrowed in annoyance. "I thought we were just getting out of town for a bit. You know, clear our heads. But leave it to Jaehyun and Leehan to turn this into some twisted mystery tour."
Sunoo, ever the peacekeeper, sighed. "I mean, it’s not the worst thing in the world, right? They’re into this kind of stuff. And the island’s got its own creepy charm. We just need to focus on having fun."
"Fun?" Beomgyu snorted. "Yeah, sure, let’s have fun while we dig up some old murder case. Classic vacation vibes."
Their irritation melted away as they reached the villa that Sungho had rented for the group. It stood atop a cliff, overlooking the ocean with an expansive view of the dark, rolling waves. The house was old but grand, with ivy crawling up its stone walls and large windows that offered panoramic views of the island. Inside, it was even more impressive—antique furniture, a roaring fireplace, and the faint scent of cedar wood filled the air, making it feel both luxurious and oddly comforting.
"Damn," Yeonjun whistled, looking around. "I’ve gotta admit, this place is kinda sick. Maybe Jaehyun’s murder obsession won’t be so bad if we’re staying here."
Sunoo wandered over to the fireplace, running his fingers along the mantelpiece. "This place is amazing," he said, his earlier frustration replaced with awe. "It’s like something out of a movie."
Beomgyu, still grumbling under his breath, wandered into one of the side rooms. The room was decorated in soft pastels, a stark contrast to the dark wood and heavy drapes in the rest of the house. His eyes landed on a small unicorn tchotchke perched on a shelf—a porcelain figure, delicate and out of place in the grand surroundings.
"Check this out," Beomgyu called out, holding up the unicorn for the others to see. "Who in their right mind would put this here?"
Yeonjun laughed, shaking his head. "That’s gotta be the creepiest thing here. Who brings a unicorn to a haunted island?"
But Beomgyu wasn’t listening anymore. His fingers fumbled for his phone, dialing Niki’s number. It took a few rings, but eventually, Niki picked up.
"Hey, babe," Beomgyu said, a grin tugging at his lips. "You’ll never guess what I just found—"
But Niki cut him off, his voice tense and hurried. "Beomgyu, I can’t really talk right now. Something came up at work."
Beomgyu’s smile faltered. "Oh, uh, okay. I just thought you’d get a kick out of this unicorn I found. It’s super creepy."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a distracted hum from Niki. "Yeah, that sounds… great. Look, I’ve really got to go. We’ll talk later, okay?"
Before Beomgyu could reply, the line went dead. He stared at his phone, frowning. Niki was usually more enthusiastic about their conversations, especially when it came to sharing weird or creepy finds. Something felt off, but he brushed it aside, convincing himself that Niki was just busy.
"Everything okay?" Sunoo asked, noticing the look on Beomgyu’s face.
"Yeah," Beomgyu said slowly, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "He’s just… busy. We’ll catch up later."
Yeonjun clapped a hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder, trying to lighten the mood. "Come on, let’s check out the rest of this place. Maybe there’s a room full of creepy dolls or something."
Beomgyu forced a smile and followed them out of the room, but a nagging feeling lingered in the back of his mind. He pushed it down, telling himself that this was supposed to be an escape, not another source of stress. But as the night wore on, the unease settled in, refusing to be ignored.
======================================================
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the sprawling villa, Sunoo found himself sitting at a large oak desk in one of the upstairs rooms. The desk was adorned with a variety of old-fashioned writing instruments and a leather-bound notebook. Sunoo had spread out his NYU application papers, his brow furrowed in concentration. He’d been meaning to get this done, and despite the strange circ*mstances of their trip, he was determined to finish it.
Leehan, on the other hand, was lounging on a nearby armchair, flipping through a worn book he’d found on a shelf. The pages were filled with illustrations and scribbles, a stark contrast to the pristine order of Sunoo’s papers. He glanced over at Sunoo, curiosity mingling with the unease that had been creeping up since their arrival.
“You’re really going through with it, huh?” Leehan asked, breaking the silence. His tone was casual, but there was a hint of something more—a question that had been on his mind since Sunoo first mentioned NYU.
Sunoo looked up, his eyes meeting Leehan’s with a mixture of determination and apprehension. “Yeah, I’m almost done with the application. Just need to finalize a few things.”
Leehan shifted in his seat, his gaze lingering on Sunoo. “You know, I’ve been thinking. If you’re really set on going to New York, I could come with you.”
Sunoo raised an eyebrow, his pen pausing mid-sentence. “You mean like… move to New York with me?”
Leehan nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I mean, if you want me to.”
Sunoo’s expression was unreadable as he set his pen down and leaned back in his chair. “Do I want you to come to New York with me?”
Leehan’s smile faded, replaced by a look of frustration. “Are you seriously going to play this game right now?”
Sunoo’s gaze dropped back to his papers, avoiding Leehan’s intense stare. “It’s not a game. I just… need to think about it. About what it means for us.”
Leehan stood up abruptly, his frustration boiling over. “You’re not making this any easier, Sunoo. Either you want me there or you don’t. I don’t get why you’re being so evasive.”
Sunoo looked up, his face a mix of regret and annoyance. “It’s not about being evasive. It’s about figuring out what’s right for both of us. I’m trying to focus on finishing this application right now, and I can’t make any promises until I’ve sorted things out.”
Leehan’s jaw tightened, his patience wearing thin. “Fine. If you need to take your time to decide, then take it. But don’t expect me to just sit around and wait forever. I need to know where I stand.”
Sunoo sighed, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on him. “Leehan, I do want you in my life. But moving to New York is a big step, and I need to be sure of what I’m committing to before I make any decisions.”
Leehan’s frustration seemed to ebb slightly, though his expression remained tense. “Alright. I get it. Just… let me know when you’ve figured things out.”
With that, Leehan turned and walked out of the room, leaving Sunoo alone with his thoughts. The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the unspoken weight of their unresolved issues. Sunoo stared at his application papers, the reality of their situation sinking in. He had decisions to make, and they weren’t going to be easy.
As the night grew darker, Sunoo continued working on his application, the quiet ticking of the old clock on the wall the only sound accompanying him. He hoped that in the end, he’d find clarity—not just for his future, but for his relationship with Leehan as well.
======================================================
The island was cloaked in twilight, the last rays of the sun casting long shadows through the dense foliage. Beomgyu and Yeonjun wandered along a narrow path that led them to a secluded clearing, a serene spot surrounded by tall trees and the distant murmur of the ocean. The oppressive silence of the island was only occasionally broken by the rustling of leaves and the distant calls of seabirds.
Yeonjun sighed heavily, his eyes scanning the horizon as if searching for something he couldn’t quite articulate. “You know, sometimes I just feel so… trapped,” he admitted, kicking at a loose pebble on the path.
Beomgyu, walking beside him, looked over with curiosity. “Trapped? By what?”
“By my name, my reputation,” Yeonjun said, his voice carrying a hint of frustration. “It’s like I’m always living in the shadow of something I can’t escape. Everyone knows what happened, and it’s like I’m stuck in this constant cycle of being judged and misunderstood.”
Beomgyu nodded, understanding more than he let on. He knew all too well the feeling of being burdened by past actions and how they could loom over one's life. “That sounds rough. But I don’t think a name defines you completely.”
Yeonjun’s face lit up with a mix of resolve and desperation. “I know, but sometimes I want to do something completely out of character, just to prove that I’m not just my name. Like getting a tattoo.”
Beomgyu stopped in his tracks, a look of surprise on his face. “A tattoo? You’ve never mentioned wanting one before.”
“I haven’t,” Yeonjun admitted, chuckling softly. “It’s just one of those things that seems like a drastic way to break free from the expectations everyone has of me. A way to say, ‘Hey, I’m more than just the headlines.’”
Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, a playful smile forming on his lips. “So, you want to get a tattoo to rebel against your own image?”
“Pretty much,” Yeonjun said with a shrug. “I know it sounds silly, but it feels like the only thing I can control right now. It’s like marking a new chapter in my life, something I can own completely.”
Beomgyu laughed lightly, shaking his head. “You know, if you really want to do it, I’m not going to stop you. But you should think about it carefully. Tattoos are permanent, after all.”
“I’ve thought about it,” Yeonjun replied earnestly. “It’s not about the design or the pain or any of that. It’s about taking a step towards owning my own narrative, regardless of how others see me.”
Beomgyu’s smile softened, and he patted Yeonjun on the back. “Alright then. If you’re set on it, I’ll support you. But let’s make sure you’re really ready for it. It’s a big decision.”
Yeonjun grinned, feeling a sense of relief and determination. “Thanks, Beomgyu. I appreciate it. I guess it’s just another way of trying to figure out who I really am.”
As they continued their walk through the island, the conversation drifted to lighter topics, but Yeonjun’s thoughts lingered on the idea of a tattoo. It felt like a symbol of taking control of his own life, of redefining himself on his own terms. And despite the challenges ahead, the thought brought a sense of liberation he hadn’t felt in a long time.
======================================================
The Murder Island Historical Society stood as a grim monument to the island’s dark history, its walls lined with dusty artifacts and old photographs. Inside, the air was thick with the musty scent of aged paper and polished wood. Leehan, Jaehyun, and Sungho made their way through the dimly lit museum, their footsteps echoing softly against the stone floors.
Sungho, who suddenly acts like the curator of the museum, led them through a narrow corridor lined with display cases. Each case contained various relics from the island’s violent past, including the infamous mask and murder weapon of Anna Hobbs, a notorious figure in the island’s history.
“Here we are,” Sungho announced, gesturing to the case in front of them. “The mask and weapon of Anna Hobbs. This has been a key piece in our collection for years.”
Jaehyun, despite his earlier enthusiasm, looked disinterested. His gaze wandered around the room, taking in the old artifacts without much engagement. “I still don’t get why this is relevant now. The case is so old.”
Leehan, who had been examining the mask with a mixture of fascination and skepticism, turned to Jaehyun. “I think it’s because of the new evidence that’s come to light. Apparently, at least one of the murder victims was moved after being killed. That’s pretty significant.”
Jaehyun frowned, his attention momentarily piqued. “Moved? How do they even know that?”
Sungho nodded, adjusting his glasses as he spoke. “We’ve recently uncovered some new documentation and witness statements. It seems that the body of one of the victims was found in a different location than where it was originally killed. It’s led to a lot of speculation about how the murders were staged and whether there were other accomplices involved.”
Leehan’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the items on display. “That definitely adds a new layer to the story. It suggests there was more planning involved than we initially thought.”
As Leehan continued to study the artifacts, Jaehyun’s attention was caught by an old photograph hanging on the wall beside the display case. The photo depicted a woman in old-fashioned clothing, her face partially obscured by shadows but unmistakably stern. Jaehyun’s eyes widened as he recognized her from the files he had read.
“Wait a minute,” Jaehyun said, stepping closer to the photo. “Is that Anna Hobbs?”
Sungho nodded, looking over with a slight frown. “Yes, that’s her. She was one of the most infamous figures from the island’s history. Her crimes and the subsequent investigations were a significant part of our records.”
Jaehyun studied the photograph intently, a mix of curiosity and unease crossing his face. “There’s something about her eyes… they seem familiar.”
Leehan, who had been watching Jaehyun’s reaction, raised an eyebrow. “Familiar? How so?”
Jaehyun continued to scrutinize the photograph, his mind racing. “It’s just a feeling. I’ve seen that look before. It’s like she’s… hiding something.”
Sungho cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him. “There’s been speculation that Anna Hobbs may have had a network of supporters or accomplices. It’s possible that she wasn’t working alone, and this new evidence could be pointing to that.”
Leehan nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That makes sense. If she was moving victims around, it would imply a level of coordination that goes beyond just one person.”
Jaehyun looked up from the photograph, his earlier skepticism giving way to a new sense of urgency. “So, if this is true, then we might be looking at more than just a series of isolated incidents. We could be dealing with a much larger conspiracy.”
Sungho’s eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and apprehension. “That’s the theory we’re exploring. We’ve started to piece together old records and witness statements to see if we can uncover more about what really happened.”
Leehan clapped Jaehyun on the back, a grin forming on his face. “Looks like we’ve got a lot more work ahead of us. If there’s a connection to the current murders, we need to find it before it’s too late.”
Jaehyun nodded, his determination renewed. “Absolutely. Let’s dig deeper and see what secrets the past is still holding. We need to uncover the truth.”
As the trio continued their investigation, the photograph of Anna Hobbs loomed large in Jaehyun’s mind. The shadows of the past seemed to be closing in, and with each new revelation, the mystery surrounding the island grew ever more complex.
======================================================
Yeonjun flipped through the tattoo book with a mixture of curiosity and indecision. The glossy pages were filled with intricate designs and bold colors, each one vying for his attention. He furrowed his brow, trying to envision which design would best symbolize his desire for change and self-discovery.
Just then, a scruffy-cute dude with tousled hair and a mischievous smile sauntered past. His eyes lingered on Yeonjun for a moment before he continued on his way. Beomgyu, who had been hovering nearby, noticed the interaction and nudged Yeonjun with a grin.
“Looks like you’ve got an admirer,” Beomgyu said, his eyes following the stranger.
Yeonjun chuckled, shrugging off the comment. “I’m just trying to figure out what I want. It’s harder than I thought.”
The scruffy dude glanced back over his shoulder, catching Yeonjun’s eye again before disappearing through the door. Yeonjun returned to the book, but Beomgyu’s expression shifted as he noticed something odd.
“Hey, where did our bag of pastries go?” Beomgyu asked, scanning the counter.
Yeonjun’s eyes widened as he looked around. “I thought we left it right here.”
The two friends quickly realized that the bag of pastries, which they had been saving for a post-tattoo treat, was missing. Instead, there was a small, wobbly bag of bait fish in its place.
Beomgyu’s face fell as he examined the bait fish with a mixture of confusion and dismay. “Great. Just great. We were about to enjoy those.”
Yeonjun’s gaze followed the scruffy dude, who was now striding down the street with a confident air. Without a word, Yeonjun bolted out of the tattoo parlor, determined to recover their pastries and confront the stranger.
As he ran after the dude, the streets blurred by in a rush of motion. He caught up to the scruffy guy just as he was about to turn a corner. Panting slightly, Yeonjun called out, “Hey! Wait up!”
The stranger stopped and turned around, a look of surprise on his face. Yeonjun, catching his breath, continued, “You took our bag of pastries. Where is it?”
The dude’s eyes widened in recognition. “Oh, that was your bag? I didn’t realize.” He chuckled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the empty pastry bag. “I’m really sorry. I thought it was some random bag of snacks.”
Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, skeptical but relieved. “And what’s with the bait fish?”
The guy grinned sheepishly. “I work at a bait shop nearby. I didn’t have any change, so I thought I’d trade the pastries for something else. Didn’t think you’d mind too much.”
Beomgyu, who had caught up to Yeonjun, shook his head in disbelief. “Well, you certainly have a unique way of making a first impression.”
The stranger laughed, extending a hand. “I’m Heeseung, by the way. Sorry about the mix-up. I hope the bait fish are a decent trade.”
Yeonjun accepted Heeseung’s hand with a smile. “I’m Yeonjun, and this is Beomgyu. We appreciate the honesty. And I guess we’ll have to make do with the bait fish for now.”
Heeseung’s smile widened, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Nice to meet you both. I didn’t mean to cause trouble. If you’re still interested, I can show you some local spots to get great pastries. Consider it my way of making up for the mix-up.”
Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You seem to know your way around. Sure, why not? Lead the way.”
As they walked together, Yeonjun couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement. The unexpected encounter with Heeseung had added a new twist to his day, and he found himself looking forward to the rest of the adventure.
======================================================
The next day, the afternoon sun bathed the dock in a warm, golden glow as Beomgyu, Yeonjun, and Sunoo lounged on the weathered wooden planks. The gentle lapping of the water against the dock and the distant calls of seagulls provided a soothing backdrop to their conversation.
Beomgyu was fiddling with his phone, his brow furrowed with concern. “I don’t get it. Niki’s been MIA for days. I’ve sent him like, five texts, and nothing.”
Sunoo, leaning back with his feet propped up on a nearby crate, glanced over. “Maybe he’s just busy. Or maybe he needs a bit of space. You know how that goes.”
Beomgyu sighed, his fingers drumming anxiously against his phone. “I just wish I knew what’s going on. It’s like he’s dropped off the face of the earth.”
Yeonjun, sprawled comfortably on the dock, propped himself up on his elbows and tried to offer a reassuring smile. “I’m sure he’ll get back to you. Sometimes people get caught up in their own stuff.”
Sunoo’s gaze wandered across the water, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. “I’ve been having second thoughts about Leehan moving to New York with me. I’m not sure if it’s the right move.”
Beomgyu turned to Sunoo, curiosity piqued. “What’s making you second-guess it? You two seemed pretty set on it.”
Sunoo shrugged, looking thoughtful. “I guess I’m just worried about how it will affect our relationship. It’s a big step, and I’m not sure if it’s what we both need right now.”
Yeonjun, sensing the weight of their concerns, decided to shift the topic to something a bit lighter. “Hey, speaking of distractions, what about Sexy Fish Dude?”
Beomgyu’s face lit up with a grin. “Oh, right! What’s the deal with that guy? You seemed pretty taken with him.”
Yeonjun chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, Heeseung. He was a bit of an unexpected character. But honestly, I think it might be nice to hook up with someone who doesn’t know my last name or all the drama that comes with it.”
Sunoo raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “So, you’re saying you’re looking for a fresh start, away from all the baggage?”
Yeonjun nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Exactly. It’s like, sometimes it feels like everyone knows my history and the messes I’ve been in. Meeting someone new who’s just getting to know me sounds… kind of refreshing.”
Beomgyu leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. “So, you’re saying you’re considering a rebound with Mr. Fish Dude?”
Yeonjun laughed, shaking his head. “Not exactly a rebound. Just a chance to see where things go without all the past weighing me down.”
Sunoo nodded, a sympathetic smile on his face. “I get that. It’s like you want a clean slate, even if just for a little while.”
The three friends fell into a comfortable silence, the easy rhythm of their conversation matching the gentle sway of the dock beneath them. The sun continued its descent, casting long shadows over the water as they enjoyed each other’s company and let their worries drift away.
Beomgyu finally broke the silence, a thoughtful look on his face. “You know, maybe we all need a little distraction right now. Just to take our minds off things and enjoy the moment.”
Sunoo and Yeonjun exchanged glances, nodding in agreement. “Yeah,” Yeonjun said, “it’s nice to just be here and talk things out.”
As they settled into the relaxed atmosphere of the dock, their worries seemed to momentarily fade, replaced by the simple pleasure of being together and sharing their thoughts.
======================================================
The golden hues of the setting sun painted the sky in shades of orange and pink as Beomgyu, Yeonjun, and Sunoo continued their conversation on the dock. The gentle sway of the dock and the distant sounds of seagulls created a serene backdrop to their chat.
Suddenly, Beomgyu’s attention was drawn to a boat approaching the dock. “Hey, isn’t that Heeseung’s boat?”
Yeonjun looked up, squinting against the sunlight. “Yeah, that’s him. I wonder what he’s up to.”
The boat glided smoothly into the dock, and Heeseung expertly tied it off. He hopped out with a casual grace and spotted the trio lounging on the dock. With a wide grin, he waved over. “Hey, guys! Fancy seeing you here.”
Beomgyu and Sunoo waved back, but Yeonjun’s gaze was fixed on Heeseung with a mix of curiosity and realization. He remembered something from their previous conversation, the talk of a murder house and its eerie past.
As Heeseung approached, Yeonjun’s thoughts raced. *Could it be?* He pondered, thinking of Jaehyun’s research and the ominous details about the house. He took a deep breath and decided to voice his curiosity. “Hey, Heeseung, is there any connection between your family and the old murder house Jaehyun’s been looking into?”
Heeseung’s grin faltered for a moment, and he looked at Yeonjun with a mixture of surprise and contemplation. “Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag. Yes, the house was originally owned by my family. It’s been in our name for generations.”
Yeonjun’s eyes widened, his interest piqued. “So, you’re the heir to that place?”
Heeseung nodded, looking a bit more serious now. “That’s right. It’s quite the legacy, filled with its share of secrets. The house has a way of getting under your skin, especially with its history.”
Sunoo, intrigued by the turn of events, leaned in. “So, what’s it like? Growing up with a place like that?”
Heeseung shrugged, a wry smile on his face. “It’s definitely unique. Lots of nooks and crannies, and yes, some creepy stories. But it’s also part of who I am. I’ve grown up around it, so it feels like home in a strange way.”
Beomgyu, still processing the new information, raised an eyebrow. “And what brings you out here today?”
Heeseung’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “Just came back from a day of fishing. Caught some fresh fish I’d love to share. How about joining me for lunch? It’s a simple meal, but I think you’ll enjoy it.”
Yeonjun’s curiosity got the better of him. “That sounds great. I’d love to hear more about the house and its history.”
Heeseung nodded, a warm smile returning to his face. “Awesome. Let me just unload the catch, and then we can head over to my place for lunch. It’s not too far from here.”
As Heeseung started unloading the boat, Beomgyu and Sunoo exchanged glances, both intrigued by the invitation and the potential for new discoveries. They followed Heeseung to his house, their steps light with anticipation.
The old mansion loomed ahead, its grandeur evident despite its weathered exterior. As they entered, Yeonjun couldn’t help but feel a shiver of excitement and apprehension. This was more than just a casual lunch—it was an opportunity to delve into the mysteries surrounding the house and Heeseung’s family legacy.
Inside, Heeseung prepared the fresh-caught fish with practiced ease. The smell of cooking fish filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of the house’s old wood and history. As they settled around the table, the conversation flowed, with Yeonjun eagerly absorbing every detail about the house’s past and Heeseung’s personal experiences.
The meal was delicious, and the atmosphere was warm, with Heeseung’s stories adding an extra layer of richness to the experience. As the evening wore on, Yeonjun felt a renewed sense of purpose. The mysteries of the murder house and Heeseung’s family were becoming intertwined with his own journey, and he was ready to uncover the secrets that lay hidden in the shadows of the old mansion.
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Leehan, Jaehyun, and Sungho stood on the gravel path leading up to the Lee estate, their anticipation palpable as they approached the grand, ivy-covered mansion. The towering front door was intricately carved, hinting at the stories and secrets that lay within. They exchanged glances, their excitement matching the crisp evening air.
Jaehyun knocked on the door, his knuckles tapping against the heavy wood. The trio waited in silence, the only sounds being the distant rustling of leaves and the faint chirping of crickets. After a moment, the door creaked open, and a young, boyish face appeared in the gap.
Riwoo, the estate’s caretaker, peered out with curious eyes. His tousled hair and gentle smile gave him an air of youthful charm. He looked no older than twenty, his appearance a stark contrast to the imposing nature of the mansion.
“Hello, can I help you?” Riwoo asked, his voice warm and inviting.
Leehan, ever the extrovert, flashed a winning smile. “Hey there! We’re Leehan, Jaehyun, and Sungho. We’re here to find out more about the estate and the legend of Anna Hobbs. We were hoping to talk to you about it.”
Riwoo’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Ah, the legend of Anna Hobbs. I’ve heard quite a bit about it. I’m Riwoo, the caretaker here. But I’m afraid the estate has been quiet lately. I’m not sure how much I can help you with the legend.”
Leehan stepped forward, his voice dropping to a flirtatious tone. “I’m sure you know more than you let on. And it’d be a shame not to share such intriguing stories with us. How about we make it worth your while? Maybe you could come over to our rental tonight and tell us all about it?”
Riwoo’s cheeks flushed slightly at Leehan’s charm. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You really know how to make an offer sound tempting. I suppose I could come over. I have a few hours free tonight. What time were you thinking?”
Jaehyun, always the pragmatist, interjected with a nod. “We’re staying at the old lighthouse rental, just a short drive from here. Any time that works for you is fine with us.”
Riwoo thought for a moment, then smiled. “Alright, I’ll come by around eight. I’ll bring some tea and we can sit down and talk. I’m looking forward to sharing the story.”
With plans set, Riwoo closed the door gently, and the trio headed back to their rental, their excitement palpable. Leehan couldn’t help but glance back at the estate, a satisfied grin on his face.
“Nice work, Leehan,” Jaehyun said with a smirk. “You really know how to get people to agree to things.”
Leehan shrugged playfully. “Just had to use my charm. Besides, I’m genuinely interested in hearing about the legend. It’s been on our minds since we arrived.”
Sungho, who had been quietly observing, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, and it’s good to have a local perspective. Riwoo seems like he might have some interesting insights.”
======================================================
The bonfire crackled and danced, casting flickering shadows across the faces gathered around it. The warmth from the flames contrasted sharply with the chill of the night air, creating a cozy yet eerie atmosphere. Riwoo, Leehan, Jaehyun, and Sunoo sat in a circle, the embers of the fire glowing brightly in the center.
Riwoo leaned forward, his face illuminated by the firelight. He held a cup of tea, its steam rising and mingling with the night air. The group had been chatting about lighter topics, but the conversation had inevitably shifted back to the chilling legend of Anna Hobbs.
“So, Yeonjun,” Riwoo began, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips, “before we dive into the grim details, I should mention that I used to have a thing with Heeseung. But he’s one of those people who’s hard to get to know. Always has this mysterious aura around him.”
Yeonjun, who had been listening intently, raised an eyebrow. “Really? I didn’t know that. How was he, in terms of—well, getting to know him?”
Riwoo shrugged, looking thoughtful. “He’s a complicated guy. Very charming, but there’s always something just out of reach. It’s like he’s always holding something back. It was a short-lived thing, but he definitely left an impression.”
Leehan, eager to steer the conversation back to the legend, leaned in. “That’s fascinating and all, but what about Anna Hobbs? What can you tell us about her?”
Riwoo’s expression shifted, becoming more serious. He took a deep breath before continuing. “Anna Hobbs was the daughter of the Lee estate’s former caregiver. She was known around the island as a dangerous and unstable girl, especially after her mother tried to have her committed. The story goes that one Halloween night in the 1930s, she found out about her mother’s plan and completely lost it.”
Sunoo, leaning closer, asked, “What happened on that night?”
Riwoo’s gaze grew intense, as if he was reliving the horror himself. “Supposedly, Anna went into a frenzy. She stripped naked, donned a mask, and then grabbed a pair of pruning shears. She went on a rampage, slaughtering her mother, her brother, and the Lee patriarch. It was a brutal scene. Afterward, she was reportedly overwhelmed by remorse and ended up taking her own life.”
Jaehyun’s eyes widened as he absorbed the chilling account. “That’s... intense. And this is why the estate is considered haunted?”
Riwoo nodded. “Exactly. People say her spirit lingers, trapped by the guilt and the violence of that night. The estate’s always had a reputation for being haunted, but Anna’s story is the one that really sticks with people. It’s said that on Halloween nights, you can hear her screams if you listen closely.”
Leehan, who had been silent for a while, finally spoke up. “This is a lot to take in. Do you believe the story is true, or is it just local folklore?”
Riwoo looked into the fire, his expression pensive. “It’s hard to say. I’ve heard so many versions of the story, and there are always people who claim to have seen or heard something strange. But whether it’s the truth or just a compelling legend, it certainly has a way of getting under your skin.”
Sunoo shivered, pulling his jacket tighter around him. “I don’t think I’ll be able to look at the estate the same way again. It’s one thing to hear about it, but to know the specifics... it’s unsettling.”
Yeonjun nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’s definitely a lot to process. But it also makes me more determined to understand what’s really going on here. There’s something about this place and its history that feels important.”
Riwoo smiled softly, a hint of admiration in his eyes. “I’m glad to hear that. Sometimes, understanding the past can help us make sense of the present. And if you’re ever interested in learning more, I’m sure there’s plenty more to uncover.”
The group fell silent, each lost in their thoughts as they stared into the flames. The night seemed to grow darker, the stories of the past mingling with the present, leaving a lingering sense of unease.
======================================================
The night was cool and quiet, the only sounds being the crackling of the bonfire and the occasional rustle of leaves. Riwoo’s tale had left the group in contemplative silence, each person processing the chilling story in their own way.
Jaehyun finally broke the silence. “You know, the story of Anna Hobbs has been twisted and exaggerated over generations. The real events might not be as horrific as they’ve been made out to be. People love to add their own spin, turning something tragic into a ghost story.”
Before anyone could respond, a sudden commotion interrupted their discussion. A figure, clad in an Anna Hobbs-style mask and ragged clothing, burst from the darkness of the trees, staggering toward them with eerie, exaggerated movements. The figure let out a high-pitched, mocking scream that cut through the night.
Sunoo’s eyes widened in shock. “What the—”
Yeonjun’s reflexes kicked in immediately. He sprang to his feet, his instincts honed from the past few months of chaos. Without losing his composure or messing up his carefully styled hair, he darted toward the intruder. The figure flailed, but Yeonjun tackled them with practiced ease, pinning them to the ground.
The intruder struggled, but Yeonjun expertly removed the mask, revealing the face beneath. The mask fell away to reveal Sungho, who looked up with a sheepish grin. “Surprise! Thought a real scare might get Jaehyun into the spirit of things.”
Jaehyun stared at Sungho, his expression a mix of confusion and annoyance. “Seriously, Sungho? You thought jumping out at us with a mask would be a good way to inspire me?”
Sungho, still lying on the ground, shrugged. “I thought it’d be a fun way to lighten the mood. Besides, the story of Anna Hobbs is just a story. I wanted to add a bit of excitement to our research trip.”
Riwoo, who had been watching the whole scene unfold, shook his head with a chuckle. “You certainly managed to give us a startle. But it seems like your scare tactics might have been a bit over the top.”
Yeonjun helped Sungho to his feet, his expression softening into a smile. “You definitely got us. Just… maybe next time, warn us before you decide to make a dramatic entrance.”
Sunoo, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of relief and amusem*nt, added, “Well, now that we’ve had our little scare, maybe we can get back to focusing on the actual research. I think we’ve had enough surprises for one night.”
Jaehyun, now visibly more relaxed, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, let’s get back to the discussion. Sungho’s little stunt aside, I think we all need to focus on understanding the truth behind the legend.”
As the group settled back down around the bonfire, Riwoo refilled their cups with tea, and the tension from the scare gradually melted away. They resumed their conversation, this time with a renewed sense of camaraderie and focus. Despite the unexpected interruption, the night continued with a blend of curiosity and lighthearted banter, their quest to unravel the mysteries of the island still very much alive.
The legend of Anna Hobbs might have cast a shadow over their research trip, but the bonds formed through their shared experiences shone brightly, lighting the way forward as they delved deeper into the island’s enigmatic past.
======================================================
As Sungho made his way toward the darkness beyond the bonfire’s light, his exit was marked by an exaggerated flourish. He threw a dramatic wave over his shoulder before disappearing into the night, leaving the group in a mix of laughter and relief.
Riwoo, catching the tail end of Sungho's departure, turned back to the group with a warm smile. “Well, that was certainly unexpected. How about we get back to our plans? I’d be happy to give you all a tour of the mansion tomorrow.”
Yeonjun, still slightly amused by the evening’s events, nodded eagerly. “That sounds great. We’d love to see more of the place.”
Leehan, who had been standing close to Riwoo, glanced over at him. “Thanks, Riwoo. That’ll be really helpful.”
With that, Riwoo offered a polite nod and excused himself. “I’ll see you all in the morning, then. It’s a long walk back to my cottage.”
Leehan, taking the opportunity to walk Riwoo back, followed him toward the path leading away from the mansion. As they walked, the conversation between them grew lighter and more casual.
“So,” Leehan began, trying to keep the conversation flowing, “what’s your favorite part of the island?”
Riwoo grinned, clearly enjoying the company. “I’d say the mansion itself is quite impressive. It’s got a lot of character, and the view from the top floor is breathtaking. It’s where I spend most of my time.”
As they reached the small cottage that served as Riwoo’s home, Riwoo paused and looked at Leehan with a more intimate expression. “I’m really glad we had this chance to talk, Leehan.”
Leehan, sensing the shift in Riwoo’s demeanor, felt a slight awkwardness. “Yeah, it’s been nice.”
Without missing a beat, Riwoo leaned in, trying to close the distance between them. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you. Maybe we could—”
Leehan, catching on to Riwoo’s intentions, smoothly stepped back, a faint smile on his lips. “I appreciate the gesture, Riwoo, but I think I’ll head back now. It’s been a long day, and I should probably check on Sunoo.”
Riwoo, slightly taken aback but maintaining his composure, nodded with understanding. “Of course, Leehan. I didn’t mean to intrude. Have a good night.”
Leehan gave a courteous nod and turned on his heel, heading back towards the mansion. As he approached the group, Sunoo, who had been waiting by the dock, looked up with a curious expression.
“Everything alright?” Sunoo asked, noting Leehan’s return.
Leehan shrugged casually, his demeanor returning to its usual unflappable self. “Yeah, just had a little chat with Riwoo. He’s an interesting guy, but I think he’s more into the idea of a romantic connection than I am.”
Sunoo chuckled softly, clearly amused by Leehan’s tactful avoidance. “Well, it sounds like you handled it well. Let’s just focus on the tour tomorrow and the research. No need for any more surprises tonight.”
Leehan nodded in agreement. “Definitely. Let’s get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be busy.”
As the group headed inside the mansion for the night, the promise of the upcoming tour and the mysteries it might reveal were on their minds. The night’s events had been a mix of surprises and revelations, but they were ready to face whatever the next day would bring, united by their quest and the bonds they’d formed along the way.
======================================================
The caretaker’s cottage was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the bathroom fan and the soft splash of water as Riwoo soaked in the bathtub. He leaned back, enjoying the warmth and relaxation of the bath after a long day of interacting with the visitors at the mansion.
Suddenly, the lights flickered and went out, plunging the room into darkness. Riwoo, momentarily startled, fumbled for the switch but found nothing. “What the—” he muttered to himself, trying to adjust his eyes to the pitch-black room.
His sense of unease grew as the darkness pressed in around him. He could hear the faint creaks and groans of the old cottage settling around him. “Must be a power outage,” he thought, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling.
As he began to climb out of the tub, the door to the bathroom creaked open. The light from the hallway briefly illuminated a figure standing in the doorway. Riwoo squinted, trying to make out the shadowy silhouette.
“Hello?” Riwoo called out, his voice wavering slightly. “Is someone there?”
The figure stepped into the room, and Riwoo’s heart raced as he recognized the eerie Anna Hobbs mask. The figure moved silently, the mask’s hollow eyes gleaming in the faint light.
Before Riwoo could react, the figure lunged at him. He tried to push past, but a strong hand grabbed him and forced his head back into the water. Panic surged through Riwoo as he thrashed and gasped, his attempts to break free becoming more frantic.
Desperation clawed at him as he tried to pull his head out of the tub, but the killer’s grip was unyielding. The killer’s breathing was steady, almost coldly detached as they held Riwoo’s head under the surface.
Riwoo’s struggles grew weaker as the water surged around him. He could feel his strength fading, his vision blurring with the dark, frothy water. Just as he felt his consciousness slipping, he heard a sharp, metallic noise.
The killer reached for a nearby hair dryer, which had been left on the sink. Without a moment’s hesitation, they dumped the hair dryer into the tub. The sudden jolt of electricity sent violent shocks through the water, causing Riwoo’s body to convulse uncontrollably.
The killer watched with a cold, unfeeling gaze as the electric current surged through Riwoo, the water bubbling and crackling with each zap. Riwoo’s screams were muffled by the water, his body finally going limp.
With a final, clinical flick of the wrist, the killer pulled the hair dryer out of the tub and turned off the power. The bathroom was silent again, save for the faint spluttering of the now-dead electrical appliance. The killer set the hair dryer down and stepped back, taking one last look at the scene.
Satisfied, the killer turned and walked out of the bathroom, leaving the lifeless body of Riwoo in the tub. The darkness of the night swallowed the figure as they disappeared into the shadows, the flickering lights of the old cottage doing little to dispel the growing sense of dread.
In the quiet aftermath, the killer’s message was clear: the reign of terror was far from over.
Chapter 24: Halloween Part 2
Chapter Text
The small, seaside café was quiet, the only sounds coming from the distant crashing of waves and the occasional clink of cutlery against plates. Heeseung and Yeonjun sat by a window, the sun casting soft shadows on their faces as they picked at their lunch.
They had spent the morning exploring the island, and now, over a simple meal, they were finding themselves drawn into a deeper conversation—one that neither had anticipated.
Heeseung leaned back in his chair, his eyes distant as he pushed a few fries around his plate. "You know," he started, his voice softer than usual, "I’ve always had this... complicated relationship with the idea of family."
Yeonjun glanced up from his meal, curious. Heeseung had been an enigma since they’d met, a mix of charm and mystery that made it hard to really know what was going on behind his easy smiles. "What do you mean?" Yeonjun asked, setting down his fork.
Heeseung sighed, as if deciding how much he wanted to share. "My parents died when I was a kid. Plane crash. One of those freak accidents that you always think happens to someone else until it doesn’t." He paused, his gaze flicking to the window as if the ocean might offer some kind of comfort. "They were both pretty high-profile, so when it happened, it was all over the news. Suddenly, I wasn’t just a kid who’d lost his parents—I was the orphan everyone felt sorry for."
Yeonjun’s heart tightened. He hadn’t expected Heeseung to open up like this, and it struck a chord. "I’m sorry," he said quietly, unsure of what else to say.
Heeseung shook his head, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "It’s okay. It was a long time ago. But... it changed everything. I had all this money, all this attention, and I just hated it. People treated me like I was some kind of tragedy, but all I wanted was to be left alone."
Yeonjun nodded slowly, understanding in a way that only someone who had also been thrust into an unwanted spotlight could. "My dad," he began, his tone tinged with bitterness, "he’s alive, but he might as well not be. He’s more interested in his career, his reputation, than in being a father. My mom tries, but... it’s like she’s always trying to fix things that are too broken."
Heeseung looked at Yeonjun, really looked at him, for the first time. "That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Trying to get away from all that?"
"Yeah," Yeonjun admitted, a sad smile on his face. "I needed to get away from the mess back home. All the crap that comes with my name, with who I’m supposed to be. Sometimes I feel like I just want to disappear, you know? Be someone else for a while."
Heeseung nodded, a look of understanding passing between them. "That’s why I travel so much," he said. "Sailing, hiking, just... being on my own. It’s the only time I feel like I can breathe. Like I’m not living under someone else’s shadow."
The two boys sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their shared experiences settling over them. They were from different worlds, but the pain of being defined by something out of their control was something they both knew all too well.
"Funny how we’re both running away from things," Yeonjun mused, breaking the silence. "And we end up on this island, trying to figure out what the hell we’re supposed to do next."
Heeseung chuckled, the sound light but carrying a note of sadness. "Yeah, funny how that works out." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "But maybe it’s not just about running away. Maybe it’s about finding something—someone—who gets it. Who gets you."
Yeonjun met Heeseung’s gaze, feeling a connection that went beyond the superficial. "Maybe," he agreed softly.
As they finished their lunch, the sun continued to shine outside, casting warm, golden light over the quiet café. For the first time in a long time, neither of them felt so alone.
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The sun was setting, casting a warm, orange glow through the small window of Sunoo’s room. The air was heavy with unspoken words as Leehan stood awkwardly at the doorway, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He had been pacing outside for what felt like hours, trying to summon the courage to enter.
Finally, with a deep breath, he stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him. Sunoo was sitting on the edge of his bed, flipping through a book he wasn’t really reading. The tension in the room was palpable, the weight of their recent arguments hanging over them like a storm cloud.
Leehan cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Sunoo," he began, his voice low and uncertain. "I... I wanted to talk to you."
Sunoo looked up, his expression guarded. He had been expecting this, but that didn’t make it any easier. "Okay," he said, his tone giving nothing away. "Talk."
Leehan hesitated, searching for the right words. "I’ve been an ass," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’ve been pushing you away, and I know it’s because I’m scared."
Sunoo’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Scared of what?"
"Of losing you," Leehan confessed, his eyes meeting Sunoo’s for the first time. "You mean everything to me, and the thought of you going to New York, of you... moving on without me, it freaks me out. So I act like an ass, because at least if you’re mad at me, I know you still care."
Sunoo sighed, setting the book aside. "Leehan, you don’t have to do that. You don’t have to push me away to keep me close. That’s not how this works."
Leehan nodded, his eyes filled with regret. "I know. I’m just... I’m not good at this. At being vulnerable. But I want to be better. For you."
Sunoo’s heart softened at the sincerity in Leehan’s voice. He had always known that beneath the bravado, there was a part of Leehan that was just as scared and unsure as anyone else. But it was exhausting, constantly trying to break through that exterior.
"I want to be with you too," Sunoo said quietly, "but I need time to figure things out. Going to New York... it’s a big deal for me. I need to be sure about what I want, and that includes whether or not I want you to come with me."
Leehan’s heart sank at Sunoo’s words, but he nodded, understanding. "I get it. I do. I’ll give you all the time you need. Just... don’t shut me out, okay?"
Sunoo offered him a small, reassuring smile. "I won’t. But you have to promise me something too."
"Anything," Leehan said, his voice filled with hope.
"Promise me you’ll stop being so hard on yourself. Stop trying to sabotage this before it even has a chance. We both deserve better than that."
Leehan smiled, a genuine, relieved smile that reached his eyes. "I promise."
There was a moment of silence, the kind that wasn’t awkward but rather filled with understanding. Then, tentatively, Leehan crossed the room and sat beside Sunoo on the bed. He didn’t try to hold him or make any grand gestures; he simply sat there, content to be close to the person who meant the most to him.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room in soft shadows, they sat together, the unspoken promise of something better hanging in the air. It wasn’t a perfect resolution, but it was a start. And sometimes, that’s all you need.
======================================================
The old mansion loomed ahead, its ivy-covered walls casting eerie shadows in the dim light of the late afternoon. Beomgyu, Jaehyun, and Leehan stood at the entrance, staring up at the building with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. They had heard the stories, the whispers about the place, but nothing could have prepared them for what they were about to find.
Beomgyu pushed open the creaking door, and they stepped inside, their footsteps echoing through the empty halls. Dust hung in the air, catching the light from the cracked windows, and the smell of decay was thick and oppressive. The mansion was a labyrinth of forgotten rooms and neglected memories, each corner holding the potential for discovery—or danger.
"Let’s split up," Jaehyun suggested with a grin, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I’ll take the haunted attic, Beomgyu, you can have the basem*nt with all the creepy dolls, and Leehan, you can explore the torture chamber."
"Very funny," Beomgyu muttered, rolling his eyes as they continued down the hallway.
They made their way through the house, careful not to touch anything that looked like it might crumble to dust at the slightest provocation. As they entered what appeared to be an overgrown greenhouse attached to the mansion, Leehan froze, his eyes narrowing at something glinting in the corner.
"Guys," Leehan said, his voice tense. "Over here."
Jaehyun and Beomgyu turned, following his gaze to a pair of pruning shears lying on the ground. The metal blades were covered in a dark, viscous substance that looked disturbingly like blood.
"Is that...?" Beomgyu began, his voice trailing off as he stepped closer, his heart pounding in his chest.
Jaehyun, ever the skeptic, let out a chuckle. "Come on, it’s probably just rust or something. Old places like this always have weird stains."
Leehan shook his head, his expression serious. "That’s not rust, Jaehyun. That’s blood. And it looks fresh."
Beomgyu’s stomach turned as he stared at the shears. He felt a chill run down his spine, the weight of the situation settling over him like a dark cloud. "We need to call the cops," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jaehyun’s grin faltered as he saw the concern etched on Beomgyu’s face. "You’re serious?" he asked, the humor draining from his tone.
Beomgyu nodded, already pulling out his phone. "Yeah, I am. We can’t ignore this."
Within minutes, they were standing outside the mansion, waiting for the authorities to arrive. The sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the grounds, making the place look even more sinister.
Sheriff Jongin arrived shortly after, his cruiser’s lights flashing as he pulled up to the mansion. He stepped out of the car, his expression one of calm authority as he approached the group.
"What’s going on here?" Jongin asked, his eyes flicking between the three boys and the ominous mansion behind them.
Beomgyu gestured toward the greenhouse. "We found something inside. A pair of pruning shears. They’re covered in blood."
Jongin raised an eyebrow, his demeanor shifting as he realized the seriousness of the situation. "Show me."
They led the sheriff into the greenhouse, where the shears still lay on the ground, untouched. Jongin knelt beside them, inspecting the dark stains with a practiced eye. His face gave nothing away, but the tension in the room was palpable.
"Stay back," Jongin ordered as he carefully picked up the shears with a gloved hand. He examined them closely, his expression unreadable.
Jaehyun, unable to resist, muttered under his breath, "Guess we won’t be trimming any hedges today."
Leehan shot him a glare. "This isn’t the time for jokes, Jaehyun."
Jongin stood up, his gaze shifting to the three boys. "I’m going to have to investigate this. I’ll need you all to stick around, answer some questions."
Beomgyu nodded, feeling a sense of relief that the authorities were now involved. But as he looked around at the decaying mansion, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they had stumbled into something much bigger than any of them had anticipated.
And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the mansion in darkness, Beomgyu couldn’t help but wonder what other secrets the old house was hiding—and whether they were prepared to uncover them.
======================================================
The wind howled through the trees, whipping up leaves and sending them swirling into the air. The sky was darkening rapidly, heavy clouds rolling in like an ominous tide, signaling the storm that was fast approaching. Yeonjun and Heeseung stood on the cliff’s edge, overlooking the turbulent sea. The waves crashed against the rocks below, spraying salty mist into the air.
"You think this storm’s gonna be as bad as it looks?" Yeonjun asked, his eyes scanning the horizon. The air was thick with tension, both from the weather and from the unspoken connection simmering between them.
Heeseung shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "Hard to say. Nature’s got a mind of its own. One minute it’s calm, the next it’s tearing everything apart."
Yeonjun laughed, a soft, almost nervous sound. "Sounds like some people I know."
Heeseung’s gaze flicked to Yeonjun, his expression softening. "Yeah, but sometimes the chaos is worth it."
Their eyes met, the tension crackling like the electricity in the air. Without another word, Heeseung stepped closer, closing the distance between them. The storm might have been gathering strength around them, but the real storm was in the silence that followed, in the way their breaths mingled in the cool air, in the way their lips finally met in a kiss that had been brewing since the moment they’d met.
It was a kiss that carried the force of the approaching storm, all-consuming and relentless. The wind whipped around them, but they were oblivious to anything beyond the connection between them.
When they finally broke apart, both breathless and slightly dazed, Yeonjun couldn’t help but smile. "I guess some storms are worth braving."
Heeseung chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah. I think this one is."
As the first drops of rain began to fall, they reluctantly pulled apart. "We should get inside before we get drenched," Yeonjun said, glancing at the darkening sky.
Heeseung gave him a lingering look before nodding. "Yeah, let’s get out of here."
They made their way back to the rental, the wind picking up speed as the storm began to unleash its full fury. By the time Yeonjun reached the porch, he was soaked through, his hair plastered to his forehead. Heeseung gave him a playful push before heading off, their earlier banter still hanging in the air like an echo.
Yeonjun watched him go, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts, emotions, and the memory of that kiss. As he stepped inside, the house was eerily silent. The others must have gone out, leaving him alone in the sprawling, old mansion. The storm raged outside, the windows rattling in their frames, the wind howling like a banshee.
He closed the door behind him, peeling off his wet jacket and tossing it over a chair. The emptiness of the house was unsettling, especially with the storm outside making everything seem so much more isolated.
The silence was broken by the shrill ring of a telephone, cutting through the quiet like a knife. Yeonjun jumped, his heart skipping a beat. It wasn’t his cellphone—it was the old landline phone that sat on a small table in the hallway, a relic from another era.
Yeonjun hesitated for a moment, a strange sense of dread settling over him. But curiosity got the better of him, and he picked up the receiver.
"Hello?" he said, his voice wavering slightly.
There was a pause on the other end, a static-filled silence that made his skin crawl. And then, a familiar voice, cold and taunting, broke through.
"Yeonjun," the voice said, sending a chill down his spine.
Yeonjun’s grip on the phone tightened. "Who is this?"
"Turn on the porch light," the voice instructed, ignoring his question.
His heart pounded in his chest as he turned toward the front door. The storm continued to rage outside, but the voice on the other end of the line held an authority he couldn’t ignore. Slowly, he walked to the light switch by the door and flicked it on.
The porch light flooded the small front area with a harsh, yellow glow, illuminating the figure that lay crumpled at the edge of the light’s reach.
Yeonjun’s breath caught in his throat as he recognized the body. Riwoo’s lifeless eyes stared back at him, his body drenched in rain, sprawled out like a discarded doll. Blood pooled around him, mixing with the rainwater, a grotesque reminder of the life that had been brutally taken.
The phone slipped from Yeonjun’s hand, clattering to the floor as he backed away from the door, his heart racing in his chest. He stumbled, reaching for something to steady himself, but there was nothing to hold onto. He was alone, and the storm outside was nothing compared to the storm of terror raging inside him.
The voice on the phone, still barely audible from the floor, whispered its final message before the line went dead.
"Welcome back to the nightmare, Yeonjun."
And just like that, the storm wasn’t just outside—it was inside, too, threatening to tear him apart.
======================================================
Sheriff Jongin drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove through the narrow, winding roads leading back to the station. The rain pelted the windshield, the wipers struggling to keep up with the downpour. It had been a long day, filled with reports, investigations, and a nagging feeling that something was horribly wrong on the island.
He squinted through the darkness, the headlights cutting through the rain just enough to illuminate the road ahead. The storm was making it hard to see, but Jongin was used to navigating in bad weather. His thoughts drifted back to the crime scene at the Lee estate, the bloody pruning shears, and the unsettling sense that the island's dark history was coming back to life.
Just as he rounded a bend, something caught his eye in the middle of the road. Jongin slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching as the car skidded to a halt. His heart raced as he strained to see what lay ahead.
There, illuminated by the harsh glare of the headlights, was a figure sprawled out on the wet asphalt. Jongin cursed under his breath, grabbing his flashlight from the passenger seat. The last thing he needed tonight was another body, another piece of this grisly puzzle.
He stepped out of the car, the rain immediately soaking through his uniform. The wind howled, carrying the scent of wet earth and something else—something metallic, like blood. Jongin's grip tightened on the flashlight as he approached the figure.
As he got closer, recognition dawned on him. It was the old man from the historical society, the one who had always been a thorn in his side with his constant complaints and conspiracy theories. Jongin crouched down, shining the light over the man's face, pale and lifeless. The deep gash across his throat left no doubt about the cause of death.
"Damn it," Jongin muttered, pulling out his radio to call it in. But before he could speak, a rustling sound caught his attention. He turned, the beam of his flashlight sweeping across the darkness, searching for the source.
Out of the shadows stepped a figure wearing the Anna Hobbs mask, the same mask that had been haunting the island's legends for decades. The killer stood there, silent and menacing, holding a pair of bloodied garden shears. Jongin’s breath caught in his throat as he realized he was unarmed, his gun still holstered at his side, too far to reach in time.
The killer moved swiftly, closing the distance between them in an instant. Jongin raised his hands in a futile attempt to block the attack, but it was too late. The shears came down with a sickening snip, and pain exploded in his hand. Jongin screamed as his fingers were severed, blood spurting from the stumps.
He staggered back, clutching his mutilated hand, his vision blurring from the pain. The killer didn’t stop, advancing with cold precision. Jongin barely had time to react before the shears were at his throat, the cold metal pressing against his skin.
"Why?" Jongin managed to choke out, his voice trembling with pain and fear.
The killer tilted their head, as if considering the question. But no answer came, only the swift, brutal motion of the shears as they sliced through Jongin’s neck. His world tilted, and then everything went dark.
Jongin’s headless body crumpled to the ground, his lifeless eyes staring up at the sky, while his head rolled to a stop beside the historical society guy. The killer stood over the bodies for a moment, the rain washing away the blood from the shears. Then, without a word, they disappeared into the night, leaving the gruesome scene behind, another piece in the deadly game that had only just begun.
======================================================
The storm outside raged on, its howling winds battering the walls of the rental house. Inside, the atmosphere was equally tense. Beomgyu, Jaehyun, Sunoo, Leehan, and Yeonjun huddled in the dimly lit living room, their faces pale with fear and exhaustion. The events of the past few days had taken a toll on them, but now, as they regrouped, a new wave of dread washed over them.
"No one's seen Sungho since before Riwoo was killed," Beomgyu said, his voice low and shaky. He paced back and forth, running a hand through his hair as he spoke. "And he was the one with the Anna Hobbs mask. What if he’s the one behind all of this?"
Jaehyun leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed. "It makes sense. Sungho’s always been obsessed with the Anna Hobbs legend, and his next book is supposed to be about her. Maybe he orchestrated everything to stir up interest in the story—and in his book."
Sunoo sat on the edge of the couch, his eyes fixed on the floor. "But why would he kill Soobin? Or anyone else? This is more than just a publicity stunt…"
"Maybe it’s not just about the book," Leehan suggested, his voice calm but laced with uncertainty. "What if it’s personal for him? Maybe he’s got some twisted vendetta."
Yeonjun, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke. "What if it’s more than just one person?" He looked around at the others, his expression serious. "Jaehyun might be right—what if someone’s trying to recreate the whole Brandon James versus Anna Hobbs thing? Maybe Sungho’s part of it, but there’s someone else involved, too."
Jaehyun nodded, his mind already racing with possibilities. "Like a sick Freddy vs. Jason scenario, but with our own local legends. Think about it—both Brandon James and Anna Hobbs were notorious killers with tragic backstories. Maybe someone’s trying to play them against each other, to create some sort of twisted narrative."
Leehan frowned, his brow furrowing in thought. "But why us? Why involve us in this nightmare?"
"Because we’re connected to it all," Beomgyu said, his voice tight with frustration. "We were there when Soobin was arrested. We know about Brandon James, we’ve been digging into the Anna Hobbs legend. Maybe we’re part of the story they’re trying to tell."
Sunoo looked up, his face pale. "So, what do we do? If Sungho’s really behind this, and there’s someone else involved, we could be next."
"We need to find Sungho," Yeonjun said firmly, his eyes burning with determination. "If he’s the one behind this, we have to stop him before he kills anyone else."
"But we can’t just go out there blindly," Jaehyun warned. "We don’t know what we’re up against, and we can’t trust anyone."
"Then we stay together," Leehan suggested, his voice steady. "No one goes anywhere alone. We keep our eyes open and stick to the plan. We find Sungho, we figure out what he’s doing, and we put an end to this."
Beomgyu nodded, though the fear in his eyes was still evident. "We’re in this together. Whatever happens, we can’t let them win."
The group fell into a tense silence, the gravity of the situation settling in. Outside, the storm continued to rage, the wind howling like a distant scream. Inside, they were left with only their fear, their suspicion, and the cold realization that the nightmare was far from over.
======================================================
The scream pierced the night, sending shivers down everyone's spine. Beomgyu’s heart dropped as he recognized the voice. "Niki," he whispered, his blood running cold.
Without thinking, Beomgyu bolted out of the house, the others hot on his heels. The rain pounded down on them as they ran, the storm’s fury making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. But Beomgyu didn’t care—he had to find Niki.
They rounded the corner of the mansion and saw him, standing in the muddy driveway, his face pale with shock. Niki was trembling, his eyes wide with terror as he stared at something on the ground.
Beomgyu skidded to a halt beside him, his breath catching in his throat when he saw what had caused Niki’s horror. The sheriff’s severed head lay in a pool of blood, its lifeless eyes staring up at the stormy sky. The sight was enough to make Beomgyu’s stomach churn, and he quickly looked away, pulling Niki into a tight embrace.
“Niki, what are you doing here?” Beomgyu’s voice was shaking, both from the cold and the terror gripping him.
“I-I came to surprise you,” Niki stammered, still in shock. “But I—God, Beomgyu, what is happening?”
“We need to get out of here. Now.” Yeonjun’s voice was firm, cutting through the panic that threatened to overwhelm them all. “This island isn’t safe. We have to leave before it’s too late.”
Heeseung, who had been standing silently by, nodded in agreement. “My boat’s at the dock,” he said, already turning toward the path that led to the shore. “Let’s get moving.”
They hurried down to the dock, adrenaline propelling them through the wind and rain. But when they reached the dock, their hope was dashed—Heeseung’s boat was gone, the ropes that had secured it to the pier now frayed and floating in the churning water.
“Someone took the boat!” Heeseung shouted over the wind, his voice tinged with frustration. “We’re stranded.”
Panic set in as the realization hit them—they were trapped on the island, with no way to escape and no idea who was hunting them.
“We need to get back to the mansion and call for help,” Jaehyun suggested, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. “There’s a landline there, right?”
“Yeah,” Heeseung confirmed. “But it’s old—who knows if it’s even working.”
“It’s our only option,” Yeonjun said. “Let’s go.”
They raced back to the mansion, their clothes soaked and clinging to their bodies. Once inside, they found the landline phone in the dusty study, but when Heeseung lifted the receiver, there was nothing but dead silence.
“It’s not working,” Heeseung said, his voice tight with worry. “We’re cut off.”
“And my phone has no signal,” Sunoo added, checking his cell. The others quickly did the same, but the result was the same—no reception, no way to call for help.
“We’re screwed,” Niki whispered, fear evident in his voice.
Jaehyun’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the group. “Maybe not. There’s an old CB radio in Heeseung’s truck. If we can get it working, we might be able to contact someone.”
“It’s our best shot,” Leehan agreed, already heading for the door. “Jaehyun and I will go fix the radio.”
“You sure you’ll be okay?” Sunoo asked, his voice tinged with concern as he looked at Leehan.
Leehan forced a small smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, we’ll be fine. Just stay inside and lock the doors.”
Jaehyun and Leehan grabbed flashlights and headed out into the storm, leaving the others to huddle together in the dark mansion. As the wind howled outside, the group exchanged worried glances, knowing that their survival depended on getting that radio working.
“We’ll get through this,” Yeonjun said, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince the others or himself. “We just have to stick together.”
But even as he spoke, a sense of dread settled over him. The island, with its dark history and looming threat, felt like a death trap. And somewhere out there, the killer was waiting for them, ready to strike again.
======================================================
Beomgyu climbed the creaking stairs, his heart heavy with worry as he sought out Niki. The events of the night had shaken everyone, but Niki’s terror had left a deep imprint on Beomgyu’s mind. He found Niki in one of the upstairs bedrooms, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring out the rain-streaked window. His hands were trembling, and his face was pale, the earlier horror still etched into his features.
“Niki,” Beomgyu called softly as he approached, careful not to startle him. Niki didn’t turn at the sound of his voice, his gaze remaining fixed on the storm outside.
Beomgyu sat down beside him, close enough to offer comfort but not so close as to overwhelm him. He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he finally said, his voice tinged with empathy. “I know how… how terrible it is. The first time I saw something like that, it messed me up for weeks.”
Niki swallowed hard, his voice barely audible. “I’ve never seen anything like that before… I didn’t even know what it was at first.”
Beomgyu nodded, understanding. The memory of his own first encounter with such a gruesome scene came flooding back, the shock, the disbelief, and the way it had haunted his dreams. “It’s not something you ever get used to,” he murmured. “But you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m here.”
For a moment, they sat in silence, the storm raging outside as they processed the trauma in their own ways. Beomgyu wanted to be there for Niki, to help him through the fear, but a nagging thought crept into his mind, one that he couldn’t quite shake.
He turned slightly, studying Niki’s profile. “Niki,” he began cautiously, “how did you know where we were staying?”
Niki finally looked at him, confusion clouding his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… this island, the house, the timing. It’s just… how did you find us here?” Beomgyu’s voice was careful, trying not to sound accusatory, but the doubt lingered in his tone.
Niki’s expression shifted, a mix of hurt and disbelief crossing his face. “You think I’m involved in this? You think I had something to do with what’s happening?”
“No, that’s not—” Beomgyu started, but Niki cut him off, his voice rising with anger.
“I came here because I wanted to be with you, Beomgyu! I wanted to surprise you, to spend time with you. And now you’re accusing me of murder?”
Beomgyu’s heart sank. That wasn’t what he’d meant, but the words had come out all wrong, twisted by the fear and suspicion that had been gnawing at him since they found the sheriff’s head. “Niki, I’m not accusing you. I’m just trying to make sense of everything. This whole situation is messed up, and I—”
“Don’t!” Niki snapped, standing up abruptly. “Don’t try to twist this around. I thought you trusted me, Beomgyu. I thought… I thought we were something.”
“We are!” Beomgyu insisted, reaching out for Niki, but Niki stepped back, shaking his head.
“No, we’re not. Because if we were, you wouldn’t be questioning me right now. You wouldn’t be looking at me like… like I’m some kind of monster.”
“Niki, please, that’s not—” But before Beomgyu could finish, Niki turned and stormed out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.
Beomgyu sat there, frozen in place, the room suddenly feeling colder and emptier without Niki in it. He hadn’t meant to drive him away, hadn’t meant to let the doubt slip into his words. But it was too late now. Niki was gone, and Beomgyu was left alone with the weight of his own uncertainty, the storm outside mirroring the turmoil inside his heart.
======================================================
The rain pelted the windows, a relentless downpour that seemed to mirror the chaos unfolding inside the house. The group huddled together in the living room, tension thick in the air as they waited, every creak and groan of the old mansion putting them on edge. The silence was broken by a frantic knock at the door, a sound that sent everyone’s heart racing.
“Who the hell could that be?” Beomgyu muttered, his eyes narrowing as he reached for the handgun resting on the coffee table.
Heeseung exchanged a worried glance with Yeonjun before slowly moving toward the door. “Let’s just see who it is,” he suggested cautiously.
Beomgyu followed close behind, the gun gripped tightly in his hand. Heeseung turned the knob, and the door swung open with a gust of wind, revealing a soaked and disheveled Sungho. His clothes were plastered to his body, and his face was pale, eyes wide with panic.
“Please, let me in!” Sungho pleaded, shivering uncontrollably. “I—I need help!”
Beomgyu’s expression darkened, his instincts screaming at him to keep Sungho outside. “I say we leave him out there,” he hissed, his grip on the gun tightening. “We can’t trust him.”
But Heeseung stepped forward, a calming presence amid the storm. “We’ll let him in,” he decided, his voice firm but gentle. “But we’re not taking any chances. We’ll hold the gun on him until we know what’s really going on.”
With a reluctant nod, Beomgyu stepped aside, allowing Sungho to stumble into the foyer. The others watched warily as Heeseung gestured for Sungho to sit down. “Stay where we can see you,” Heeseung instructed, his tone firm but not unkind. He kept the gun trained on Sungho, just in case.
Sungho collapsed onto the nearest chair, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “I… I passed out drunk on the beach,” he stammered, his hands trembling. “When I woke up, I saw… I saw someone leaving Riwoo’s cottage. I tried to get help, but everything’s been… it’s been a nightmare.”
Beomgyu crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized Sungho’s every word. “That’s your story? You just conveniently blacked out and then happened to see the killer?” He shook his head, skepticism dripping from his voice. “Your story’s full of holes, Sungho.”
Sungho looked up at Beomgyu, desperation in his eyes. “I swear, I’m telling the truth! Why would I lie about this?”
“Why indeed?” Beomgyu shot back, stepping closer, the tension between them crackling like electricity. “Maybe because you’ve been playing us this whole time. Maybe because you want to cover your tracks.”
“Beomgyu, let’s not jump to conclusions,” Heeseung intervened, his tone a soothing counterpoint to the growing hostility. “We don’t know everything yet.”
“Exactly,” Beomgyu retorted. “And until we do, I don’t trust him. We can’t let him walk around here like he’s innocent.”
Heeseung seemed to consider this for a moment before his expression softened. “You’re right. We need to be careful. But fighting won’t get us anywhere.” He turned to Sungho, offering him a reassuring smile. “Why don’t we get you settled in a room where you can rest? We’ll talk more once you’ve had a chance to calm down.”
Sungho nodded, clearly relieved at Heeseung’s less aggressive approach. “Thank you,” he whispered, his body sagging with exhaustion.
Heeseung led Sungho down the hallway, away from the others. When they reached an empty bedroom, Heeseung opened the door and motioned for Sungho to enter. “You can stay here for now,” Heeseung said, his voice still calm.
Sungho nodded gratefully and stepped inside, but as soon as he crossed the threshold, Heeseung moved swiftly. He pushed the door shut, locking it from the outside with a key he’d pocketed earlier.
“What—what are you doing?” Sungho’s voice was muffled through the door, panic rising again.
“It’s for your own safety,” Heeseung called back, his tone gentle but firm. “We’ll figure this out, but until then, just stay in there. It’s better for everyone.”
Beomgyu appeared beside Heeseung, his expression still skeptical but slightly mollified by Heeseung’s actions. “You think that’s going to hold him?”
Heeseung shrugged, pocketing the key. “For now. It gives us time to figure out what’s really going on.”
Beomgyu gave a reluctant nod, the tension easing slightly as they moved away from the door. “I still don’t trust him,” he muttered under his breath.
“I know,” Heeseung replied, glancing back at the locked door. “But we’ll get to the bottom of this. We just need to keep our heads.”
The two of them rejoined the others in the living room, the storm still raging outside as they tried to make sense of the danger lurking within.
======================================================
The mansion’s dining room was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows across the antique furniture. The storm outside continued its relentless assault, the howling wind rattling the windows. Inside, Heeseung, Yeonjun, and Sunoo gathered around a polished mahogany table, a silver platter of meticulously arranged fruit between them. The atmosphere was tense, the silence only broken by the occasional crack of thunder.
Heeseung reached for a perfectly sliced piece of kiwi, his movements calm and deliberate. “You know,” he began, a slight smile playing on his lips, “there’s a bottle of Château Margaux in the cellar. It’s one of the most expensive wines you can find. I think we should open it.”
Yeonjun, who had been absently poking at a grape with a toothpick, looked up with interest. “Why not?” he agreed, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The idea of indulging in something so luxurious, even in the midst of their terrifying predicament, was oddly appealing.
Sunoo, however, seemed less impressed. He leaned back in his chair, his expression skeptical as he eyed Heeseung. “A fancy fruit plate and expensive wine? Really, Heeseung? It’s like you’re trying too hard.”
Heeseung chuckled, unfazed by Sunoo’s criticism. “Why not make the best of a bad situation? We’re stuck here in this mansion with a killer on the loose. We might as well enjoy what we can, right?”
Sunoo sighed, clearly not sold on the idea. “I’d rather be doing something useful, like figuring out how to get off this island, instead of pretending we’re at some high-society dinner party.”
Yeonjun, sensing the tension between them, decided to diffuse the situation. “It’s just wine, Sunoo. And Heeseung has a point—we might as well enjoy something while we’re stuck here.”
Sunoo rolled his eyes but didn’t argue further. He could see that Yeonjun was warming up to the idea, and he didn’t want to spoil what little comfort they could find in this nightmare.
Heeseung stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. “I’ll go get the wine,” he announced, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “Trust me, Yeonjun, you’ll love it.”
As Heeseung left the room, Sunoo leaned in toward Yeonjun, lowering his voice. “You really buying into this?” he asked, his tone a mix of concern and disbelief.
Yeonjun shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “It’s just a distraction, Sunoo. Something to take our minds off things for a bit.”
Sunoo sighed, his gaze drifting to the storm outside. “Yeah, well, distractions can be dangerous.”
Before Yeonjun could respond, Heeseung returned, carrying a dusty bottle of wine and a trio of crystal glasses. He set them down with a flourish, expertly uncorking the bottle and pouring a generous amount into each glass.
“To surviving,” Heeseung toasted, lifting his glass with a wry smile.
Yeonjun clinked his glass against Heeseung’s, the rich aroma of the wine filling his senses. “To surviving,” he echoed, taking a sip.
Sunoo hesitated before finally lifting his glass, though his enthusiasm was noticeably lacking. “To surviving,” he muttered, taking a small sip before setting the glass back down with a sigh.
As they drank, Heeseung regaled them with tales of his travels, his voice smooth and captivating. Sunoo remained unimpressed, but Yeonjun found himself drawn in by Heeseung’s charm, the tension in his shoulders slowly easing as the wine worked its magic.
For a moment, it almost felt like they weren’t in a murder house on a storm-ravaged island. Almost.
But then a sudden crash from somewhere upstairs shattered the fragile calm, pulling them back into the terrifying reality they were facing.
Heeseung set down his glass, his eyes narrowing. “That didn’t sound good.”
Yeonjun and Sunoo exchanged a worried glance before they all stood up, the brief respite of luxury forgotten as they prepared to face whatever new horror awaited them in the shadows.
======================================================
Beomgyu stormed through the mansion’s darkened corridors, frustration and worry clouding his thoughts. He hadn’t been able to find Niki, but he had stumbled upon something far more unsettling: Niki’s phone, left abandoned on a desk. He picked it up and unlocked it, only to be confronted with a gallery of pictures—Yeonjun and Beomgyu in various candid moments from earlier that day.
Each image was tagged with the precise time it was taken, and the thought of someone watching them so closely made Beomgyu’s blood run cold. He scrolled through the photos, his heart racing, as he realized the depth of Niki’s obsession.
“What the hell?” Beomgyu muttered, his mind racing to piece together the implications. “This isn’t right.”
Just then, Niki appeared in the hallway, looking disheveled and nervous. His eyes widened as he saw Beomgyu holding his phone. “Beomgyu, I—”
“Why the hell do you have all these pictures of us?” Beomgyu demanded, cutting him off. “Why were you following us around?”
Niki’s face fell, his defensiveness quickly crumbling into a look of guilt and hurt. “I—” He hesitated, taking a deep breath. “I was following you to see if you were cheating on me. I know how much time you spend with Yeonjun. I got insecure, okay? I thought if I watched you, I’d find out if there was something going on.”
Beomgyu was stunned, his anger momentarily giving way to confusion and hurt. “You think I’d cheat on you? I’ve been dealing with all this crazy sh*t and trying to keep us safe. How could you think this was the right way to handle it?”
Niki’s eyes were pleading. “I know it was wrong, but I was just so scared of losing you. You always drop everything for Yeonjun. I felt like I was being pushed aside.”
Before Beomgyu could respond, the distant sound of footsteps echoed through the mansion. Yeonjun appeared, his face a mask of urgency and fear.
“Beomgyu!” Yeonjun called out, his voice tense. “You need to come see this. The killer left a message for us in blood on the wall.”
Beomgyu’s heart skipped a beat as he looked at Yeonjun, then back at Niki. “We need to go now,” he said, his voice firm. “We can talk about this later.”
He grabbed Niki’s arm and dragged him toward the source of Yeonjun’s distress, their footsteps echoing through the empty mansion. As they reached the hallway where the message had been left, Beomgyu’s stomach churned at the sight of the crimson writing scrawled across the wall.
Yeonjun stood beside the message, his expression grave. The words were clear and chilling: **“YOU’RE NEXT.”**
Beomgyu’s eyes widened, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. “This is what the killer wanted us to see.”
Niki stood behind Beomgyu, his face pale as he took in the message. “Oh God,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “What do we do?”
Yeonjun stepped closer to Beomgyu, his hand gripping Beomgyu’s arm tightly. “We need to stick together and figure out who’s behind this. We can’t let them tear us apart.”
Beomgyu nodded, though his mind was still reeling from the discovery of Niki’s phone and the realization of how close they had come to disaster. “Yeah,” he said, his voice steady despite the chaos around him. “We’ll figure this out. But first, we need to find out who else is in danger and how to keep everyone safe.”
As the group regrouped, the weight of the message settled heavily over them. They were trapped on the island, their every move watched, and the killer’s threat loomed over them like a dark cloud. They had no choice but to face the storm together.
======================================================
The storm raged outside, howling winds and torrential rain hammering against the mansion’s windows. Inside, Jaehyun was hunched over the broken CB radio in the truck, his fingers trembling as he fiddled with the knobs and wires. His face was pale, his eyes hollow with exhaustion and guilt. He muttered to himself, barely aware of the world around him.
“I can’t believe I brought everyone here,” he said, his voice cracking. “This is all my fault. I was so desperate to escape my writer’s block that I thought this would be a good idea, a way to inspire myself. But instead, I just…”
Leehan stood nearby, watching Jaehyun with a mix of concern and frustration. He crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing as he took in Jaehyun’s self-loathing. “Jaehyun, you don’t have writer’s block. You have survivor’s guilt.”
Jaehyun looked up, his eyes red-rimmed and watery. “What? No, it’s not just that. I made money off Woonhak’s and Zhang Hao’s deaths, and now, all these people are in danger. I just—” He paused, shaking his head. “Most of them weren’t even that memorable. How can I justify profiting from their tragedies?”
Leehan took a deep breath, trying to steady his own emotions as he approached Jaehyun. “Jaehyun, you didn’t cause this. You’re not responsible for the killer or for what’s happening now. The guilt you’re feeling is natural, but you can’t let it destroy you. We need to focus on getting out of here and keeping everyone safe.”
Jaehyun’s hands shook as he worked on the radio, his eyes filled with regret and desperation. “I should have known better. I should have done more to protect everyone. Now it’s too late.”
Before Leehan could respond, Jaehyun’s expression shifted. A faint crackle of static came through the radio, followed by a clear voice.
“This is the Coast Guard. We’re receiving a distress signal. Over.”
Jaehyun’s eyes widened with relief. “Finally, we’ve got them! We’re on Murder Island, and we’re under attack. We need immediate evacuation. Can you help us?”
The Coast Guard’s response was quick and reassuring. “We’re sending a team right away. Stay where you are and keep your communication line open. We’ll be there as soon as we can. Over.”
Jaehyun released a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. “They’re coming. We just need to hold on a little longer.”
Leehan placed a reassuring hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder. “You did good. We’re getting out of here. We just need to stay calm and wait for help.”
Jaehyun nodded, his gaze fixed on the radio as if it were his lifeline. “I just hope we can make it through this.”
Leehan looked around at the darkened, storm-lashed mansion, his expression grim but resolute. “We will. We have to.”
As the storm outside continued to rage, the group huddled together in the mansion, their hopes pinned on the incoming rescue. Jaehyun’s guilt and regret were overshadowed by the urgent need to survive, and the flicker of hope provided by the Coast Guard’s promise was a small but vital beacon in their darkest hour.
======================================================
The wind howled outside as Beomgyu, Yeonjun, Heeseung, and Sunoo made their way through the darkened halls of the mansion, their flashlights cutting through the murky gloom. Their breaths were heavy with worry and determination as they approached Sungho’s room, only to find the door ajar and a broken window letting the storm in.
Beomgyu peered inside, his eyes widening. “He’s gone. The window’s broken.”
Yeonjun frowned, stepping closer to the window. “Damn it. We need to find him before he gets himself into more trouble.”
Heeseung scanned the area, his face a mask of concern. “Let’s split up. We’ll cover more ground that way. Be careful out there.”
Sunoo nodded, glancing around nervously. “We’ll find him. Let’s go.”
Outside, Sungho stumbled through the storm, his clothes plastered with rain and mud. He was disoriented, but his desperation drove him forward. He spotted Niki sitting alone by a derelict outbuilding, hunched over and looking glum.
“Hey, Niki!” Sungho called out, trying to catch his breath. “What are you doing out here?”
Niki looked up, his eyes red and tired. “Just…trying to clear my head. I didn’t think anyone would find me.”
Sungho took a step closer, but Niki’s hand tightened around a metal poker he was holding. “Stay back,” Niki warned. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m not in the mood for company.”
Sungho’s eyes widened. “Niki, wait. We need to stick together.”
Before Sungho could react, Niki spun around and fled into the storm, leaving Sungho alone. Sungho watched him disappear into the rain, feeling a pang of frustration and loneliness.
As Sungho wandered further, he stumbled upon a small, dilapidated shed. Inside, he found a dusty old photograph of the Lee family, framed and forgotten. He squinted at the faded image, noting the faces of people he didn’t recognize. But one face stood out—a person who clearly wasn’t part of the original family.
Sungho’s heart raced as he turned the photograph over, trying to make sense of it. The storm outside raged on, and the wind howled louder, making the small shed tremble.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a shadow fell across the room. Sungho turned around, his eyes wide with fear.
The killer, clad in the Anna Hobbs mask, stood in the doorway, a pair of bloodstained pruning shears glinting ominously in the dim light. Sungho’s breath caught in his throat as the killer advanced on him, a sinister smile hidden beneath the mask.
“No!” Sungho shouted, trying to back away. “Stay away from me!”
But the killer was too quick. With a swift, brutal motion, the pruning shears were thrust into Sungho’s chest, pinning him against the wall. Sungho’s scream was swallowed by the storm as he collapsed, the life draining from his eyes.
The killer watched with cold satisfaction, then turned and vanished into the storm, leaving Sungho’s lifeless body behind.
Back at the mansion, Beomgyu, Yeonjun, Heeseung, and Sunoo regrouped, their faces grim and determined. They’d been searching high and low for Sungho but had come up empty.
“Where the hell is he?” Beomgyu muttered, frustration evident in his voice.
Yeonjun’s eyes darted around, anxiety etched on his face. “We need to find him now. He could be in danger.”
======================================================
Sunoo and Leehan sat together on the edge of the grand master bed, the heavy storm outside casting intermittent flashes of lightning across their faces. Sunoo’s eyes were red, but his expression was soft as he looked at Leehan. “I’m sorry for pushing you away,” he said quietly. “I was scared of how things were changing. But I really do want to be with you.”
Leehan reached out, taking Sunoo’s hand in his. “I understand. It’s been a lot to deal with, and I’m just glad we’re on the same page now. We can figure this out together.”
Their moment of intimacy was interrupted by a knock on the door. Beomgyu and Jaehyun entered, their expressions tense and focused. “Hey, have you seen Niki?” Beomgyu asked, his voice edged with urgency. “We’ve been searching for him, and we’re running out of time.”
Jaehyun’s eyes scanned the room, pausing as he took in the setting. “This is the room where they found one of the owner’s bodies,” he said, his tone distant. “The one that might have been moved postmortem. This place has a dark history.”
Beomgyu rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Jaehyun, can we please focus on not dying? We need to get out of here before—”
Jaehyun ignored him, moving towards a large, ornate cabinet. He opened it and began rummaging through its contents, his curiosity driving him. “There’s something here,” he muttered. “An old album.”
Sunoo and Leehan exchanged worried glances as Jaehyun pulled out an old, leather-bound photo album. Beomgyu moved closer, peering over Jaehyun’s shoulder. “What’s in it?” he asked.
Jaehyun flipped open the album to reveal a collection of photographs, many of which were disturbing. The images were explicit and unsettling, featuring various women in compromising positions. Jaehyun’s face grew pale as he recognized one of the women. “Oh my God. That’s Anna.”
Sunoo leaned in, his eyes widening in shock. “Wait, you mean to tell me Mr. Lee was taking pervy pictures of Anna?”
Jaehyun nodded, his voice trembling. “It looks like it. And there are others too—women who might have been victims or involved somehow.”
Beomgyu sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration. “Great. So not only is our killer crazy, but we’ve also got a twisted photographer on our hands.”
Leehan moved closer to Sunoo, trying to steady his own nerves. “What does this mean for us?”
Jaehyun closed the album, his expression grim. “It means the killer has a deeper connection to this place than we thought. And it could be someone who knew these victims personally.”
Beomgyu glanced around the room, his eyes filled with resolve. “We need to find Niki, and we need to get out of here. We don’t have time to dig through all of this right now.”
Sunoo nodded, his face set with determination. “Agreed. Let’s find Niki and figure out our next move. We can’t stay here any longer.”
As the group prepared to search for Niki once more, the storm continued to rage outside, the darkened mansion seeming to close in around them. The weight of the revelations pressed heavily on their shoulders, but they knew they had to keep moving to stay ahead of the killer’s relentless pursuit.
======================================================
The grand master bedroom seemed eerily quiet as Beomgyu, Jaehyun, Sunoo, and Leehan huddled around the bookshelf that had caught Jaehyun's attention. The large oak bookshelf, filled with dusty tomes and old relics, appeared to be just another piece of furniture until Jaehyun started fiddling with it.
“This has to be the way,” Jaehyun muttered, his brow furrowed in concentration as he pulled at various books and pushed against the wood in an increasingly frustrated manner. “There has to be a mechanism here.”
Sunoo watched, his patience wearing thin. “Are you sure you’re doing that right?” he asked. “Maybe it’s simpler than you think.”
Leehan leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “It doesn’t look like anything’s happening. Maybe it’s broken.”
Jaehyun’s face was flushed with embarrassment as he continued his efforts. “It’s supposed to open. I’ve seen this in old house tours before…”
Just then, Sunoo had a sudden inspiration. “What if you just push it?”
Jaehyun paused, looking at Sunoo with a mix of frustration and realization. “Push it?”
Sunoo nodded, stepping forward. “Yeah. Sometimes the simplest solution is the best one.”
With a deep breath, Jaehyun pushed against the bookshelf. To everyone’s surprise, the entire unit slid open with a groan, revealing a narrow, dimly lit passageway behind it. Jaehyun stared at the opening in disbelief.
“I can’t believe it was that simple,” Jaehyun said, stepping aside to let the others see.
Beomgyu’s eyes widened as he peered into the passage. “Well, that’s just great. Let’s see where this leads.”
The group hesitated only a moment before venturing into the passage. The walls were lined with old, cobweb-covered bricks, and the air grew colder as they moved further into the darkness. The passage wound and twisted until it finally opened up into a small, decrepit room.
Sunoo looked around, recognizing the place. “This is the caretaker’s cottage. I’ve seen pictures of it.”
Jaehyun, his flashlight illuminating the room, started piecing together what he knew. “So if this is where Anna Hobbs supposedly went mad…then maybe the caretaker was involved in some way. Or maybe—”
A sudden realization struck him. “—the caretaker, Riwoo, might have known more about the legend or had something to do with it.”
Leehan, examining the area with a critical eye, spotted a series of old, dust-covered boxes in one corner. “There could be records or clues in those.”
Jaehyun moved to the boxes, carefully opening them. Inside were various old papers, photographs, and what appeared to be journals. He flipped through the pages, scanning for anything that could shed light on the events that had transpired.
“This is it,” Jaehyun said, his voice filled with excitement. “These documents detail the original accounts of the Anna Hobbs story. It looks like there was a cover-up involving several people from the town, including the caretaker.”
Sunoo leaned in, his face reflecting a mix of curiosity and concern. “What does it say about that night?”
Jaehyun read aloud from one of the journals. “It says that Anna Hobbs was originally accused of a crime she didn’t commit, and the real culprit was someone who manipulated the situation to get rid of her. The caretaker was involved in hiding evidence to protect the true murderer.”
Beomgyu frowned, taking in the information. “So the caretaker wasn’t just a witness, but an accomplice? That’s… huge.”
Leehan looked around the room, his expression thoughtful. “If Riwoo was involved, then it makes sense why he was targeted. And if he knew something, it could explain why the killer is still active.”
Jaehyun closed the journal with a heavy sigh. “We need to find out more about this cover-up and who the real mastermind was. This could be the key to understanding everything that’s happened.”
As they gathered the documents and prepared to leave the passageway, the storm outside continued to rage, the thunder echoing their tension. Each step through the secret passage brought them closer to uncovering the truth behind the tragic events of the past and the horrors still lurking in the shadows.
======================================================
Yeonjun slumped against the wall of the secret passage, his frustration bubbling over. This was supposed to be a break from the chaos of his life, a chance to escape the never-ending cycle of violence and fear. Yet here he was, once again caught in a nightmarish scenario where murder and mayhem followed him relentlessly.
“I just wanted a vacation,” Yeonjun muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the howling storm outside. He felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, the walls of the passage closing in on him both literally and metaphorically.
Heeseung approached, noticing the despair etched on Yeonjun’s face. “Hey, I get it,” he said gently. “This was supposed to be a break for you, and it’s turned into something else entirely. Maybe we should just forget everything here and travel together. See the world. Start fresh.”
Yeonjun looked up, his eyes reflecting a mix of hope and skepticism. “Travel the world? I don’t even know if I can trust anyone anymore.”
Before Heeseung could respond, a sudden noise echoed through the passage. The sound of scuffling footsteps and a faint clatter caught their attention. Yeonjun’s heart raced as he glanced toward the source of the noise, his instincts kicking in.
“Stay here,” Heeseung said, his voice low but firm. “I’ll check it out.”
Yeonjun nodded, hiding behind a stack of boxes as Heeseung moved cautiously toward the entrance of the passage. His eyes were sharp, scanning the darkness for any sign of movement. The tension in the air was palpable as Heeseung crept closer to the source of the disturbance.
As he approached the end of the passage, Heeseung peered around the corner and saw the rest of the group—Beomgyu, Jaehyun, Sunoo, and Leehan—entering the tunnel, their expressions a mix of concern and determination.
Heeseung’s mind raced. If they got to the end of the passage and discovered what was really going on, things could spiral out of control. Without a second thought, he turned back and quietly slipped into the hidden room, shutting the bookshelf door behind him. The heavy door creaked ominously as it closed, sealing off the passage and leaving the rest of the group trapped inside.
Inside the passage, back from the cottage, the group was just starting to realize the gravity of their situation. Jaehyun, holding up a flashlight, scanned the area with increasing frustration. “Why is it so quiet?"
Sunoo paced, his anxiety growing. “Something’s not right. We need to find another way out of here.”
Beomgyu was examining the walls for any sign of another exit when Leehan’s voice cut through the tension. “There must be a reason why this door won’t open. Someone might be blocking us from getting out.”
Jaehyun, noticing the sealed-off bookshelf door, muttered angrily. “Great. Just what we needed. We’re locked in.”
Meanwhile, Yeonjun watched from his hiding spot, his mind racing as he processed what Heeseung had just done. He had locked them in, but why? Was Heeseung truly trying to protect them, or was there something more sinister at play?
With his thoughts swirling, Yeonjun knew he had to make a decision. He could no longer afford to be passive. He had to confront the reality of their situation and face whatever came next.
In the dim light of the passage, the group’s murmurs and worries intensified. Outside, Heeseung waited anxiously by the hidden door, his actions driven by a desperate need to control the situation. As the storm raged on, the shadows of the past and present converged, leaving everyone to grapple with their fears and the dark secrets that bound them together.
Yeonjun took a deep breath and stepped forward, ready to face the unknown.
======================================================
The tension in the secret passage grew thicker as Jaehyun, his flashlight casting eerie shadows on the walls, pieced together his theory about the tragic events that had transpired on the island.
"So, according to my theory," Jaehyun began, his voice resonating with a mix of determination and frustration, "Mr. Lee used this passage to sneak into the Hobbs’ cottage. He was a lecherous creep, propositioning Anna. When she tried to stop him, things escalated. He lashed out, killing her and her son, and wounding Anna in the process."
Beomgyu, trying to make sense of the convoluted narrative, glanced at Jaehyun. "So, you're saying Anna fought back and killed Mr. Lee?"
Jaehyun nodded vigorously. "Exactly. Anna fought back with everything she had. She managed to kill Mr. Lee and started to make her way to the pier before she bled to death."
Sunoo, whose patience was wearing thin, interjected, "Okay, but what does all this have to do with us staying alive right now?"
Jaehyun’s expression turned dramatic as he embraced the moment. “If I don’t get to deliver creepy, self-indulgent monologues, what even is the point of surviving?”
Before Sunoo could respond, a chilling discovery cut their discussion short. The group stumbled upon Sungho’s lifeless body sprawled on the floor. The sight was a grim reminder of their perilous situation.
Beomgyu’s eyes widened as he noticed the photograph still clutched tightly in Sungho’s hand. Carefully, he pried it from Sungho’s grasp and examined it under the beam of the flashlight. The photograph depicted Riwoo with a man who was unmistakably familiar—Lee Heeseung.
“Look at this,” Beomgyu said, his voice tinged with disbelief. “It’s Riwoo with the real Lee Heeseung. Sungho must have figured something out before he was killed.”
Jaehyun, taking in the new revelation, frowned. “So this means… Heeseung isn’t who he claims to be. Or at least, he’s connected to the past in a way we didn’t realize.”
Yeonjun’s mind raced as he processed the implications of the photograph. “Does this mean we’re dealing with someone who has a personal stake in all this?”
“Possibly,” Jaehyun replied. “If the killer is trying to keep the truth hidden, then understanding this connection might help us figure out their motive.”
Heeseung’s face flashed through Yeonjun’s mind. The charming, elusive boy who had seemed so distant and aloof. If he was involved in any way, it could mean everything they thought they knew was a lie.
Sunoo glanced around, his concern growing. “We need to focus on getting out of here. There’s no telling who else might be lurking around.”
“Agreed,” Beomgyu said, his voice resolute. “Let’s not waste any more time. We need to find out what’s going on and get out of this hellhole.”
With that, the group continued their search, their minds filled with a mix of fear and determination. The truth about the island’s dark past and the current threats against them were starting to intertwine in a way that made every moment more perilous.
======================================================
The storm outside howled with an intensity that seemed almost alive, rattling the windows of the old mansion. Inside, Yeonjun paced the grand hallway, feeling the weight of the night’s events pressing down on him. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear.
Suddenly, the door to the main house burst open with a violent crash. The figure in the Anna Hobbs mask stormed in, brandishing the bloody pruning shears menacingly. Yeonjun’s heart leapt into his throat, but his instincts kicked in. He grabbed a nearby candlestick and swung it at the intruder with all his might.
“Get away from me!” Yeonjun shouted, adrenaline fueling his actions.
The killer staggered back, momentarily disoriented by the blow. Seizing the opportunity, Yeonjun charged at him, managing to force him out of the room. The door slammed shut behind the killer, leaving Yeonjun panting and shaken but safe for the moment.
As he tried to steady his breathing, another sound caught his attention. The door to the room creaked open once more, and Heeseung walked in, his expression a mix of concern and confusion.
“Yeonjun, are you okay?” Heeseung asked, his eyes darting around the room.
“I’m fine,” Yeonjun replied, still catching his breath. “But we have to find a way out of here. The killer—”
Before Yeonjun could finish, Heeseung turned and walked back out, presumably to investigate something else or to check on the rest of the group. Left alone, Yeonjun took the opportunity to explore the room more thoroughly. His eyes fell upon a puddle of partially congealed blood near the corner of the room.
Curiosity piqued, Yeonjun moved closer. His foot squelched in the blood, and he noticed that it led to a corner of the room that had previously been hidden behind some old furniture. He pushed the furniture aside and discovered a hidden trapdoor in the floor. Heart pounding, Yeonjun pried it open, revealing a narrow staircase leading down into darkness.
With a deep breath, Yeonjun descended the stairs. The smell of decay grew stronger as he approached the bottom. The passage opened into a small, grim room where the body of Real Heeseung lay, concealed under a heavy, tattered sheet.
Yeonjun’s blood ran cold as he recognized the lifeless face. This was the real Heeseung, the one who had been so elusive and enigmatic. He stared at the body in shock, trying to reconcile the reality before him with the charming figure who had once seemed so distant but strangely familiar.
Heeseung’s voice echoed in Yeonjun’s mind, and he could almost hear his last words, now forever unspoken. As Yeonjun took in the sight, he felt a surge of anger and betrayal. The person who had seemed so out of place, so charming, was gone. And the killer had used his guise to perpetrate this nightmare.
He stood there for a moment, grappling with the gravity of the discovery, before making his way back up the stairs, determination replacing his shock. He had to find the others, share the grim news, and try to piece together the final threads of this horrifying puzzle.
The storm raged on outside, but for Yeonjun, the true storm was the chaos unfolding within the mansion’s walls.
======================================================
Yeonjun’s pulse raced as he emerged from the secret room, the body of Real Heeseung still haunting his thoughts. He found Fake Heeseung standing in the grand hallway, the storm outside casting eerie shadows through the windows.
“Hey!” Yeonjun shouted, catching Fake Heeseung’s attention. “What the hell is going on? Who are you really?”
Fake Heeseung turned, his expression shifting from calm to something more intense. He slowly removed the Anna Hobbs mask, revealing a face Yeonjun had never seen before. “My name is Lee Jeno,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of bitterness. “And the truth is… well, it’s a lot to take in.”
Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed. “Lee Jeno? Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?”
Lee Jeno’s gaze was filled with a mix of pain and determination. “You see, my real name isn’t just a name—it’s a reminder of everything I’ve lost. My parents were murdered years ago, and the media circus that followed was unbearable. I was thrust into the spotlight, and it was nothing short of retraumatizing.”
He took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. “I’ve spent years hiding and running. I wanted to disappear, to start over. But then I saw you, and I realized we’re not so different. You’re a survivor too. I thought we were destined for something more, something better.”
Yeonjun felt a chill creep down his spine. “So all of this—this whole nightmare—is about you and me?”
“Not just that,” Lee Jeno continued. “I pointed Sungho in the direction of the Anna Hobbs legend to lure all of you here. I wanted to kill those who knew the real Heeseung, those who could blow my cover. And after all that, I thought maybe you and I could leave together. Disappear. Start a new life somewhere.”
Yeonjun’s mind raced, trying to process the weight of Lee Jeno’s confession. “You’re saying all the people who died, they were just obstacles for you? And now you want us to… what, run away together?”
Lee Jeno nodded, a look of earnest hope in his eyes. “Yes. We can still leave. Assume new identities. Disappear from all this madness.”
Yeonjun took a step back, shaking his head. “I—no. This isn’t how it works. You can’t just erase everything that’s happened, and you can’t use me like this. What you’ve done is unforgivable.”
Lee Jeno’s face fell, a look of genuine hurt crossing his features. “I understand if you can’t forgive me. But I needed you to understand why I did this. I needed to show you that we’re both survivors.”
The storm outside seemed to echo the turmoil inside Yeonjun. He turned away from Lee Jeno, struggling to reconcile the horrific reality of the night with the twisted, personal tragedy that had driven him to this point.
“I’m sorry, Jeno,” Yeonjun said quietly, “but I can’t be a part of this. Not after everything that’s happened.”
======================================================
Yeonjun's breath came in ragged gasps as he sprinted down the mansion’s echoing hallways, his heart pounding with each step. Behind him, Lee Jeno’s heavy footsteps grew louder, fueled by a furious determination. With a desperate burst of speed, Yeonjun rounded a corner and skidded to a halt.
The door to the balcony was ajar, its old hinges creaking in protest. Yeonjun threw it open and dashed outside, the cold wind whipping against his face. He had barely caught his breath when Lee Jeno appeared in the doorway, his face contorted with rage.
“You think you can run from me?” Jeno’s voice echoed through the stormy night. “You can’t escape!”
Yeonjun glanced around the balcony, spotting a narrow ledge leading to a precarious drop below. He knew he had to act fast. The tension was thick, like the air before a storm breaks.
Suddenly, Niki emerged from the shadows, his face pale but resolute. “Yeonjun!” he shouted. “Look out!”
Jeno’s attention snapped to Niki, momentarily distracted. This split-second was all Yeonjun needed. He grabbed a pair of bloody pruning shears from the ground, the same weapon Jeno had used in his killings. With a swift, determined move, Yeonjun lunged and drove the shears into Jeno’s shoulder.
Jeno howled in pain, stumbling backward. “You—” he began, but his words were cut off by the sudden agony of the wound. He glared at Yeonjun with a mix of fury and disbelief.
Yeonjun took a cautious step back, trying to gauge Jeno’s next move. Jeno, bloodied and furious, charged at Yeonjun with renewed ferocity. “You’re not getting away!”
As Jeno lunged, Yeonjun ducked and maneuvered them both toward the edge of the balcony. The wind howled around them, adding to the sense of chaos. Jeno, disoriented and enraged, tried to grab Yeonjun, but his injured shoulder made him clumsy.
Yeonjun seized the opportunity. With a burst of strength, he shoved Jeno toward the rail. Jeno’s eyes widened in shock as he teetered over the edge. “No!” he shouted, reaching out desperately.
In a final, desperate move, Yeonjun pushed Jeno with all his might. Jeno’s scream cut through the night as he fell over the rail, his body disappearing into the void below. The sickening thud that followed was a grim confirmation of the finality of the act.
The rest of the Lakewood Six arrived just in time, having taken the long way back from the cottage. They gathered around the balcony, their faces etched with a mixture of relief and horror. Beomgyu, Sunoo, and Jaehyun looked up at Yeonjun, their expressions reflecting the grim reality of what had just transpired.
Yeonjun stood at the railing, staring down at Jeno’s lifeless body sprawled on the ground. The storm raged on, the winds howling as if mourning the violence and chaos that had unfolded.
“Is it over?” Sunoo asked, his voice heavy with exhaustion and relief.
Yeonjun nodded slowly, the weight of the night’s events pressing down on him. “It’s over,” he said quietly. “For now.”
The group stood in somber silence, the storm’s fury a fitting backdrop to the end of their harrowing ordeal. The mansion, once a place of sinister shadows, now stood as a monument to their survival and the price they had paid to escape the madness that had engulfed them.
======================================================
The flashing blue and red lights of the police cars cast an eerie glow over the deserted mansion. The sound of rain tapping against the windows mixed with the occasional shuffling of feet and the murmurs of officers taking statements. Inside the grand foyer, the Lakewood Six huddled together, each trying to process the surreal events of the night.
Beomgyu sat on the edge of a dusty armchair, his face still pale from the shock of the evening. Niki, standing nearby, was pacing nervously, his eyes darting around as he tried to make sense of the chaos that had unfolded.
“Niki,” Beomgyu called out gently, catching his friend’s attention. “I need to talk to you for a moment.”
Niki looked up, his face a mix of confusion and hurt. “What’s up?” he asked, his voice tense.
Beomgyu took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry about earlier. I know you’re feeling betrayed and confused, and I get it. But you need to know something.”
Niki's eyes were still filled with uncertainty. “What do I need to know?”
Beomgyu met his gaze firmly. “No matter what happened tonight, you’re not in competition with Yeonjun. He means a lot to me, but that doesn’t change anything about us. I care about you too, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re just a second choice or anything like that.”
Niki’s shoulders relaxed slightly, though his expression remained conflicted. “It’s hard, you know? Seeing everything and feeling like I’ve been left out in the cold. I just wanted to be close to you.”
“I know,” Beomgyu said softly. “And I’m really sorry for that. This whole situation has been messed up, and it’s not fair to you. But you’re important to me, and I want you to understand that. This isn’t about competing with anyone. It’s about us figuring out where we stand and making things right.”
Niki nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I appreciate you saying that. It’s been a rough night, and I guess I just needed to hear it.”
Beomgyu reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Niki’s shoulder. “We’ll work through this. We both need time to process everything that’s happened, but I’m here for you. We’ll get through it together.”
As Beomgyu’s words sank in, Niki managed a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Beomgyu. I needed that.”
Just then, one of the officers approached, signaling that it was time for Beomgyu to give his statement. Niki nodded, taking a deep breath and steeling himself for the long night ahead.
As Beomgyu joined the officers, Niki took a moment to watch him. Despite the chaos and the shadows of the night, there was a sense of hope—a fragile understanding that, even after the storm, there was a chance for healing and reconciliation.
======================================================
The streets of Lakewood had quieted down, the echoes of the recent chaos fading into the past. The sun cast a warm glow over the town, promising a new beginning for those who remained.
Inside a cozy corner of the mansion, Sunoo and Leehan sat across from each other at a small table. The remnants of their breakfast lay forgotten as Sunoo took a deep breath, his expression serious yet hopeful.
“Leehan,” Sunoo began, looking directly into his partner’s eyes, “I’ve been thinking a lot about what comes next. I want you to come with me to New York.”
Leehan’s eyes widened in surprise. “New York? You really want me there?”
Sunoo nodded earnestly. “Yeah. I do. I’ve realized that there’s so much more for us to explore together, and I don’t want to do it without you. I need you with me, not just in the city, but in my life. So… will you come?”
Leehan’s face softened, and a smile slowly spread across his lips. “Of course, Sunoo. I’d go anywhere with you. New York sounds like an adventure I’m ready for.”
Sunoo reached across the table, taking Leehan’s hand in his. “I’m glad. We’ve been through so much, and I think it’s time for us to start fresh.”
Meanwhile, back in Lakewood, Jaehyun sat alone in a quiet room, staring at his old writing desk. The weight of the recent events had been heavy on his shoulders, but a newfound clarity had begun to emerge. He had spent weeks grappling with his guilt, but now he felt a different kind of resolve.
“I’ve been thinking,” Jaehyun said aloud to himself, “about all the stories I’ve told and all the voices that were silenced. I was so caught up in feeling like a fraud or a profiteer. But maybe… maybe I’m doing something important.”
He picked up a pen, and a determined expression crossed his face. “I’m not just writing stories. I’m giving a voice to those who no longer have one. I need to remember that, and maybe it’s time to embrace that role more fully.”
Jaehyun’s phone buzzed with a message from Leehan, who was now getting ready to join Sunoo in New York. Jaehyun read the message with a thoughtful smile, feeling a sense of purpose he hadn’t had in a long time.
In a small tattoo parlor in Lakewood, Yeonjun sat with his arm outstretched, the tattoo artist carefully inking the final touches of a tattoo on his wrist. The design was simple—a small, elegant script of his last name. Yeonjun watched with a mix of nerves and determination.
As the needle buzzed, Yeonjun reflected on the recent months. “You know,” he said to the artist, “I thought a lot about running away, about leaving everything behind. But now, I think it’s time to face it all head-on. I’m done running.”
The artist nodded, focusing on the tattoo. “It’s a big step. But it sounds like you’re ready for it.”
Yeonjun smiled, a sense of finality settling over him. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
After the tattoo was finished, Yeonjun rolled up his sleeve, inspecting the new ink. The tattoo, a mark of his identity and his resolve, was a symbol of his commitment to moving forward.
He walked out of the parlor with a renewed sense of purpose. The application forms for college were spread out on his desk at home, waiting for him to fill them out. Yeonjun took a deep breath and sat down, ready to embrace his future.
As the Lakewood Six and their friends moved forward with their lives, each of them found a way to reconcile their past with their hopes for the future. Sunoo and Leehan’s new chapter in New York, Jaehyun’s renewed sense of purpose, and Yeonjun’s commitment to facing his life head-on marked the beginning of a brighter, more hopeful journey for them all. The shadows of the past may have lingered, but they were no longer in control. It was time for new beginnings.
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