''~°.HIDE AND SEEK.°~'' | YEONGYU

THE WATCHER

Yeonjun stepped out into the hall again, movements precise, quiet. Something wasn't sitting right with him. Not the way the silence clung too tight. Not the strange pressure in his chest. Like something unseen was brushing a little too close.

He had to check it out.

He didn't go far. Just to the front porch. Just One minute to look.

Outside, the cold bit at his skin. The air smelled faintly like iron and damp soil.

Then he saw it.

Half-buried in the gravel near the gate. White. Folded. Crisp. Too deliberate to be anything random.

Yeonjun crouched, careful not to touch it until he was sure.

A note.

He unfolded it slowly. Only four words. Written in that same crooked, sharp penmanship from another time.

"You left him alone."

His throat tightened. This wasn't just a warning.

It was a taunt.

_____

Back inside...

Beomgyu's eyes fluttered open, brow furrowed. The soft warmth pressed against him was gone. No steady heartbeat, no steady breath. Just empty space.

He sat up quickly, eyes darting around the dark room.

"Yeonjun?" His voice barely carried.

Silence answered.

His heartbeat quickened rapidly.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood...barefoot, shaking. He crept to the door and peered out into the hallway. Empty.

Panic crept in fast, sharp.

The house felt too large...too hollow.

He took one hesitant step into the hallway.

Then another.

That's when he felt it.

The unmistakable sensation of being watched.

Slowly, Beomgyu turned toward the living room.

The curtains were drawn, but the pale light of the moon poured through, casting long shadows.

And one of those shadows...was wrong.

Too tall. Too still. Too human.

Just outside the window. A silhouette. Motionless.

Watching him.

Beomgyu's breath hitched. His limbs locked up.

And then—

The silhouette twitched ever so slightly.

Beomgyu didn't move...He Couldn't.

His breath caught somewhere between his lungs and his throat, shallow and ragged. The outline in the window wasn't just a blur of shadow anymore. Now that his eyes adjusted, he could see the distinct curve of a head...shoulders...arms hanging unnaturally still by its sides.

The curtain trembled slightly from the breeze of the fan behind him...but the silhouette didn't.

It was still.

The boy's skin prickled with goosebumps. The kind that crawled up your back when something was wrong before your brain could explain why.

The figure didn't press closer. Didn't knock. Didn't shift.