A/N: My beautiful reader(s). As you may have noticed, I have not updated this story for quite some time. Reason being that my work has taken up all hours of my day and I never get enough time to write. Nonetheless, I have managed to put out this chapter. I will try my best to update regularly.
Thanks a lot. I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Love,
Salem
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There were no notes since that day.
It was now the end of her second week and with no notes Jukyung wondered if she had offended Mr. Lee.
Though if she had, she expected she would have heard about it by now.
Jukyung decided to consult her seniors at the agency. She got her chance in the changing room when the women were changing into their uniforms.
Not wanting to be heard, Jukyung shuffled close to Jungeun as she sat on the metal bench placed between the two rows of lockers.
"Unnie..." Jukyung leaned towards the cleaner who had been fired before her, "did Mr. Lee leave you notes?"
"Hmm? Notes?" Jungeun looked up from her locker where she had been putting away her shoes.
"Like sticky notes."
"Oh yeah. He always had some comment or the other about what I was doing wrong. That fickle—never mind. But yes. He always left notes."
Jukyung took this information in for a minute. "Did he ever stop?"
Jungeun paused, "Stop?" she asked. Jukyung noticed that the other women in the room had paused what they were doing to listen in.
Jukyung lowered her voice, "Were there times he had no notes?"
"No," Jungeun and three other women said together quite loudly. Jukyung jumped at the unexpected insertion by the others.
"Wae? He's not leaving any notes for you?" Jungeun asked.
Jukyung sucked in her lip worriedly, "Well... yes."
"Aigoo, tsk, tsk," another cleaner said as she slammed her locker door shut. "Another one bites the dust," she commented to herself, shaking her head as she went out of the changing room.
Jukyung looked up at Jungeun, eyes wide with worry, "He's not going to fire me, right?"
The women only let out a groan of frustration as they went back to what they had been doing.
"But..." Jukyung clasped her hands in her lap, "I was doing so well... He wouldn't fire me over something so petty, would he?" All she had done was open up a few comic books. Surely that wasn't a crime, was it?
"He would. You should expect the axe soon. That man is the ficklest person I ever saw! Just ask Myeong-ah. Didn't he fire you over something petty too?" Jungeun called to the other cleaner who was changing out of her shirt.
"That's right, Jungeun Unnie! All I did was make a simple, tiny mistake and then bam! The Super tells me that Mr. Lee no longer wants to keep me on."
"What mistake did you make?" Jukyung asked, but before Myeong could answer, Jungeun interrupted.
"And take Eunsook! He didn't even let her stay for more than two days!"
Eunsook appeared from behind her locker door with a frown on her face, "Yes. That old cook didn't even give me a chance."
Jukyung nodded her head, thoughts spinning. "Ah, but... what exactly was the reason?"
"Reason?" the three of them asked together.
"Yes. Did he tell you why he didn't want you any longer?"
The women looked at each other.
Jungeun burst out, "Who knows?! That man needs to reason to mess with his staff. You should look at his gardener. Aigoo, the man always looked miserable every time I saw him. I bet Mr. Lee messes with him too."
Jungeun was so engrossed in her tirade that she did not notice the supervisor silently walking up to the doorway, leaning against the frame as Jungeun went on. Jukyung tried to warn Jungeun with her eyes but Jungeun didn't seem to notice.
"Ah-nee, us working class are always getting exploited. Why should Mr. Lee be any different?"
"Uh, Unnie," Jukyung tried to interrupt.
"I bet he just sits in his room entertained by the notion that we are just bugs that he can squish any time. I bet—"
"Yah, yah, yah," the supervisor came inside, eyes judging Jungeun who froze, brows shooting up in surprise. The supervisor scolded, "What nonsense are you filling Jukyung's head with?"
"Oh, Minji Unnie, you were here?" Jungeun said, sheepishly.
"What? Mr. Lee messes with his staff? I guess it was someone else who tried to go into his bedroom to take pictures of him in secret," the supervisor said, eyeing Myeong, "and it must be some ghost who brought he kids into his house thinking Mr. Lee didn't live there?", the supervisor flicked her brow towards Eunsook, "and you."
The supervisor tilted her head to meet eyes with Jungeun who had her gaze lowered, "You are the sole reason Mr. Lee slashed out the kitchen section in his instruction manual. Can you still shamelessly badmouth him to the one employee actually following his instructions?"
The other cleaners all buried their heads in their lockers while Jukyung only looked at Jungeun in wonderment.
The supervisor turned to her, "Don't listen to these crones. Just do your job how you're told to do and you should be fine."
"But... but... he's stopped leaving me any notes," Jukyung's lower lip puckered in despair.
"Notes? Oh, you mean those sticky notes he always uses?" The supervisor asked. "Don't worry about it. I bet he just doesn't have any feedback for you. Maybe he likes what you are doing."
Jukyung's shoulders relaxed, "Really?"
"Really. Don't listen to these fools, alright? Just focus on your work. Mr. Lee hasn't raised any complaints with me yet. Which means that he's satisfied."
Jukyung nodded her head, reassured by her supervisors words.
The words seemed less assuring now to Jukyung was leaving Mr. Lee's house for the fourteenth time with, yet again, no note. As the sun set behind her, Jukyung threw a glance at the second story window over her shoulder.
There was no one standing there.
Is he okay? Jukyung wondered. Then shook her head, A-ah! Who cares? It's not like he isn't rich enough to call for help if he needs it.
But the thought that something was wrong with Mr. Lee kept wiggling around in her mind like a parasite all night long.
No one knew how old Mr. Lee was but given his long history in the neighborhood, he had to be elderly. What if he had a fall and couldn't cry out for help? There was no electricity in his house which meant nothing digital—that would require charging—like a smart phone worked there. And there seemed to be no wiring to support a landline in the house.
What if he truly was hurt? Wasn't it Jukyung's responsibility to check up on him?
But checking up on Mr. Lee meant going upstairs into his room, which was breaking his rules.
Jukyung entered Mr. Lee's house with this turmoil, her dark circles peeking from beneath her make up, despite the heavy amount of concealer she had put on. Her mind had a lightbulb moment when her eyes fell on the mirror and console in the foyer.
Quickly taking off her backpack, Jukyung took out her own pink notepad and pen.
Are you alright, Mr. Lee? She wrote out and stuck to the mirror.
"There, that should do it," she said to herself, deciding that if Mr. Lee didn't respond to her note the next day, she would risk getting fired and go upstairs.
Jukyung felt at ease as she went about her usual cleaning. She was getting things done faster these days now that she knew where everything was and how Mr. Lee liked it clean. And Mr. Lee appeared to be neat and tidy as nothing was ever out of place beyond the sofa cushions having been squashed under someone's weight and the few telltale footprints in the entry way marking someone's movements—most likely Mr. Lee's.
Jukyung was done an hour early that day and packed up her things with a grin, looking forward to the extra time she had to study up for her entrance exam.
As she was about to leave, she caught something in the corner of her eye. Something light blue and square and stuck beneath the pink note she had left.
Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. She hadn't caught sight of anyone as she had gone around the house cleaning up. Then... how... when... how?
I am fine. Thank you for the inquiry. The Korean letters were so neat it almost felt typed out. Jukyung picked the note up from the mirror and found that the ink came off on her thumb.
It hadn't even dried yet.
A tremor passed her hand and the note fell on the console. Without thinking, Jukyung picked up her things and rushed out of the house. She didn't dare turn around to look for the silhouette in the window. She knew well enough that Mr. Lee would be there.
She didn't want to think about how that note could have possibly gotten there without alerting her. She didn't want to wonder how an old man could move so fast and so quietly that it felt like he was a ghost and not a person.
~~~~~~~
Prince Comics was the only place where Jukyung felt comfortable enough to go without her makeup. The shop owner had known her since she was a kid and had first discovered the wonderous world of horror comics.
Jukyung wasn't much of a reader—which explained her abysmal grades in school. But comics were books she could easily devour without noticing how much time had passed. There had been more than one instance of her mother having to fetch her from the comic bookstore because it was getting too late but Jukyung didn't like to think about time when she visited Prince Comics.
The owner greeted her at the counter as she flashed him her gummy smile. The man returned the gesture, his eyes curling into crescents, thick cheeks framed by long, curly hair.
"Guess what I have for my Jukyung-ie todayyy," he sang cheekily.
Jukyung clasped her hands together in anticipation. She already knew what the owner was talking about. "No! It's here?!" she squealed, bouncing on her feet.
The man's grin widened as he produced a plastic wrapped copy of the latest edition of The Cursed Mask. "I saved the first copy for you."
Jukyung jumped with joy, "Oh, thank you, ahjussi! Thankyouthankyou!" Jukyung took the comic book in her hands as if it was a precious scripture and not one of the dozens of copies of the same comic available in the store.
"Would you like me to bring you your usual?" The man asked. Jukyung's usual was spicy cup ramen with strawberry juice. She often enjoyed this meal while she read her comic.
Just as she was about to nod fervently to the man, Jukyung paused. "Ah—wait. Ahjussi. Do you have another copy of this one that I can buy?"
The man pointed to the top shelf behind her, "Take as many copies as you want, kiddo. You want one for Juyoung?" The man asked, referring to Jukyung's younger brother.
"Um-hmm," Jukyung voiced noncommittally. She didn't want to have to explain to the store owner how she was buying a comic book for an old man with a strange interest in horror comics.
It was a peace offering. A hope that whatever offence she had caused would be assuaged this gift.
She placed the comic book on the console the next day, with a pink sticky note stating: I am sorry I looked into your comic books. Here is the latest volume of The Cursed Mask. I hope you enjoy reading it.
It took every ounce of willpower Jukyung had to not write about the latest plot twist in the story. Jukyung didn't have any friends to talk about her hobbies with. Girls with interest in heavy metal and horror were hard to find in Jangwon village. So even if it was with an old man, Jukyung longed to have a conversation where she could express her love for the monsters, ghouls and goblins of the night.
Except Mr. Lee didn't seem the type to be interested in having a conversation. Jukyung even wondered if the man had any friends or family to begin with.
Perhaps he had outlived all his friends and family and that was why chose to live alone.
The comic book was still there when Jukyung left. Jukyung hoped that it wouldn't offend the man any further. She had a hard time figuring out what did and didn't bother him.
She got her reply the next day when she found an empty console and a blue sticky note waiting for her in the center of the mirror.
Thank you. Have you You didn't ha Thank Do you like horror comics?
The question seemed to be an after thought given how many times Mr. Lee seemed to have struck out his statement. Quick as a whip, she took out her notepad and wrote out: Yes. I love horror comics and stuck the note beneath Mr. Lee's.
As Jukyung cleaned, she found dozens of blue sticky notes crumpled up in the dust bin of the study room, all of which had various iterations of the same note with the words struck out.
Thank you. This was quite thoughtful. I shall enjoy it.
You did not have to. But I very much appreciate it.
Thank you. I had been meaning to get this.
It is a very kind gift.
Jukyung chuckled. The man seemed to struggle with expressing gratitude. Perhaps he was one of the old-fashioned types who believed that men had to be emotionless. This kind of belief often led to stunted expressiveness and that particular shoe did fit with what Jukyung had experienced from the man.
Jukyung felt happy. Mr. Lee was fine. All of her wild imaginings of a poor old man lying helpless in his room with a broken hip or a fractured skull all went away, leaving her in peace.
She expected now for things to return to normal. But perhaps normal was never an option for Mr. Lee.
The next day she entered to find yet another blue square awaiting her in the foyer mirror. Jukyung smiled to herself as she took off her backpack.
"I suppose he has more things to nitpick."
But when she read the note, it said: Please ensure that the books are returned without any damage.
Jukyung tilted her head in confusion, "Huh?"
She flipped it over, read it upside down yet the words made no sense.
Was this meant for someone else?
Jukyung stuck the sticky note back to the mirror and went about her work. It was whilst she was cleaning out the laundry room in the basement that she asked herself, "Wait, who else is coming here that he's leaving notes for?"
There wasn't anyone else.
It was when she was hauling the vacuum over the lush carpet of the drawing room that she noticed that the shiny new padlock on the upper shelves of the breakfront was missing.
Jukyung blinked in surprise, not believing her eyes at first.
Wait... does this mean... "Ahnee da," Nope. She shook the thought out of her head. She wouldn't be touching any of his things again. Nope. No way.
But then... the note...
Please ensure that the books are returned without any damage.
That had to mean that he was giving her permission, right?
Jukyung began to aggressively vacuum, refusing to even look at the books stacked in the breakfront. Or the books staring out at her from the corner shelves. Or the books lined up on the small shelf in the foyer, calling to her as she collected her things from the coat room.
Nope. She would not be touching any of Mr. Lee's books again.
But she kept the note, flipping it over and over between her first and middle finger as she lay in bed.
Please ensure that the books are returned without any damage.
"Mwo-ya, just say that I can read them. Why write it in such a round about way?" she grumbled to herself.
~~~~~~~
Pop! A party popper went off in Jukyung's face as she entered the cleaning agency, showering her in glittering confetti.
"Congratulations on lasting a month!" cheered the cleaning staff. Some of them blew on party horns, the paper tube uncoiling as the horn went pee-pee-pee!
A cake was shoved towards Jukyung as she tried to make sense of it all. She looked at everyone all wide-eyed and mouth agape in wonder, "What's all this?"
The supervisor holding the cake smiled at her proudly, "You are the first cleaner who's lasted a month working for Mr. Lee!"
"Congratulations!" all of the other women cheered again.
"Oh, I am?" Jukyung hadn't even noticed that an entire month had gone by. From the corner of her eye, she spotted the sour faces of Jungeun and Eunsook as the two sulked in one corner. She could sympathize. It wasn't easy having managed to work for Mr. Lee for so long. It must be harder seeing someone else succeed where they had failed.
Jukyung took the cake and walked up to the two, "Guys... lets share." Jukyung held up the cake, offering her gummy smile to the two.
Jungeun cleared her throat, "I have to get to my next shift."
Eunsook followed her lead, "Yes. I have to get to my next shift too."
Jukyung bit her lip, feeling an unnecessary guilt creep into her heart, even though she could hear a part of her yelling in her head that she had nothing to feel guilty about.
The feeling abated a little when Myeong came up to her, matching her smile, "Congratulations, Jukyung-ah! I'm proud of you," she squeezed her arm warmly.
"Thank you, Unnie," Jukyung said, gratefully.
The cleaning ladies all devoured the cake, leaving Jukyung with only the memory of the celebration. She went to Mr. Lee's house with the afterglow of the party, not expecting the other surprise that awaited her.
You may read the comic books. But please return them in the condition you took them.
Jukyung blinked forty times, reading the note over and over.
Was this for real? Was she allowed to touch those preciously maintained copies of horror comics?
Jukyung forgot to take off her shoes as she mindlessly went into the grand living room where the breakfront was. Without realizing what she was doing, she opened the glass panel and slid out a book, touching it gingerly as if the cover was fragile.
Then she caught herself with a gasp and quickly replaced the book back in the shelf before she could go more.
She didn't take or read any comic books that day. But the next day, when there was no note reprimanding her—there was no note at all—Jukyung figured she could dare to just peek into some of the comics.
She diligently finished up her work early so she had time. She had an hour before the sun would set. It seemed like enough time but once she started reading, she lost track. It felt as if only a second has passed before she looked up and found that the last rays of the sun were disappearing behind the horizon. She rushed out not noticing her hairclip that fell behind on the entryway.
Much later, when all signs of the sun had disappeared, the silhouette with the long, blackened fingers appeared, picking up the pretty pink, bow shaped hairpin. He turned it over in his hands, smiling at the simple trinket.
~~~~~~~
Jukyung discovered her missing hairpin sitting on the console with a blue note.
Jukyung liked getting those notes. They were the only proof that someone lived in the house. By now, Jukyung's image of Mr. Lee had aged into a decrepit old man who could barely move. She imagined the reason he didn't come down or see anyone was because he had arthritis and had trouble coming down the steps. The notes gave her the assurance that at least Mr. Lee was alive and well enough to move and write.
How did you like Issue 1 Vol. 17 of The Evil Doll?
Jukyung's heart rate spiked. "How did he see that was the comic I was reading?" she wondered aloud. Once again, Mr. Lee had proven that he had uncanny surveillance over his house.
Jukyung's worry at being watched subsided when she noticed that she had shoved the comic book only halfway into the shelf when she had left. It stuck out like a sore thumb, revealing itself as the comic book she had taken out.
I loved it. Especially the part where the doll staged the massacre of the family with the other toys.
Jukyung wrote this out gleefully in her pretty, pink note and stuck it beneath the blue note that had Mr. Lee's question.
She returned the next day to find another blue note, stuck beneath hers.
That part was my favorite too. The last volume is where the doll finally acts on her threats. You may take that one home if you wish.
Jukyung smiled, revealing her gummy teeth. As generous as the offer was, Jukyung had no inclination to take any of Mr. Lee's comic books home, where Juyoung could find them and ruin them. Jukyung shuddered at the thought of her brother reading Mr. Lee's comics whilst he sat on the toilet or worse, whilst he ate noodles and splattered the soup all over the pages.
No, she would be keeping his comic books within the boundaries of his home. Jukyung didn't want to test the limits of Mr. Lee's generosity.
The last volume was very good! Thank you for letting me read it! It is not easily available since this series has gone out of print, but I am grateful you let me read yours.
May I recommend The Wailing Woman next? It gave me quite a chill and it is only 7 volumes.
Jukyung giggled at the thought of an old man shaking because of some comic. But old as he was, Mr. Lee's taste was impeccable. Jukyung loved reading The Wailing Woman. She managed to devour three whole volumes before she realized that the sun had just about set, and the sky had turned purple. Jukyung ran out without even replacing the comic book this time, worried that Mr. Lee would finally come down to fire her in person.
Their back and forth continued every day. Each time Jukyung would enter, she would find a new note stuck to the mirror in the entryway. And each day, she left her own pink sticky note in response.
She had never thought that her work as a house cleaner would be the most satisfying part of her day. But it oddly was.
Her exams for the beauty school were getting close and every time she wasn't working was spent studying. Not that she got much done. The other part time jobs were grueling. Customers at the coffee shop would insult her, especially when she yawned whilst making their order. The ladies shopping at the retail store often dismissed her suggestions. And even at home her mother's constant lamenting over what a failure Jukyung was, always followed her around.
Prince Comics had been her only safe haven. But with her busy schedule she hadn't gone back there since the time she bought The Cursed Mask for Mr. Lee.
It was only in Mr. Lee's house that Jukyung felt a small reprieve. Admittedly it was due to the couple of hours near the end that she would spend devouring every horror story brought to life in black and white illustrations. But it was also in the small snippets of conversation she would share with the old man. He seemed to be just as enthusiastic as her about the stories. Even though he hadn't shared much, Jukyung could still feel that he loved comics just as much as her.
That day too, Jukyung finished early, took out another comic book and quietly settled into one of the lush couches of the reading room—a separate room from the drawing room, placed a little in the back, near the guest bedroom.
She sank in, feeling the weight of her exhaustion pushing her deeper into the couch. The springy cushions were more comfortable than her own bed. And the quiet of the house droned out all of Jukyung's inner thoughts, freeing her mind to dive into the world of horror.
It did not scare her the way it did others. A lot of girls were uncomfortable with this type of subject matter. Monsters and ghouls haunting people, vengeful sprits killing those who wronged them—the uncanny and the unimaginable all brought to life on crisp pages.
Jukyung found her eye lids getting heavier and heavier. Her tiredness finally caught up with her. Her brain sent warnings of caution. She had to get up. She had to leave soon.
I'll only rest my eyes for a minute, she thought foolishly and then jerked awake, her head spinning, alarm bells pulsing through her body.
It felt like a second. But Jukyung experienced true horror when she noticed that the sky was pitch black and moonlight was shining in to the room like someone had pointed a light right at the window.
"Oh, no," she said gravely, eyes red from sleep and agape at the rule she had broken.
The one rule she knew she wasn't supposed to break.
Jukyung's heart did a million things at once. It raced up to the point where she could feel it beating in her throat. And yet it also felt like it had stopped altogether.
She had to get out of there. Before Mr. Lee showed up and saw her.
It was quiet. Still as it was in the mornings. Perhaps Mr. Lee hadn't come down yet. Perhaps she could leave without being detected.
But no, Mr. Lee had cameras. Surely, he would see her there.
Well, there's no one here so he hasn't yet, Jukyung surmised. For now, she would focus on escape. She would deal with the consequences of her carelessness later.
She quietly picked up her backpack and cleaning supplies, leaving behind the comic book on the side table. The carpet of the hid her footsteps in the reading room well. But her cheap shoes squeaked slightly when she entered the marbled hallway.
She grimaced as she tiptoed her way to the hall.
It was very dark inside. Jukyung was forced to take out her phone and turn it on, using the light from the screen as a torch. There were several missed calls from her supervisor that Jukyung chose to ignore for now. She would have a lot of explaining to do. But all of that was for later.
As Jukyung neared the door, she realized that this was perhaps the last time she would be there.
All the other mistakes she had made, they only skirted the line that Mr. Lee drew between himself and the cleaners. But now she had well and truly crossed it. There was no recovering from this. She was going to get fired.
Testing her luck, Jukyung reached into the side pocket of her backpack and slid out her pink notepad and pen.
I am really sorry Mr. Lee. It was an accident. I hope you can forgive me. I will understand if you do not want me to come in tomorrow.
Despondently, Jukyung stuck what was perhaps her last message to the old man to the mirror in the hallway.
Just as she turned, a sound made her jump. She slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. From beyond the drawing room, where the forbidden kitchen and dining hall was, Jukyung could she whisperings of light. Warm. Yellow. Faded.
She heard it again. The sound. It felt like glass. Like the sound someone made when they were moving something around in the fridge.
Mr. Lee was downstairs.
Jukyung's heart threatened to jump out of her chest altogether. Her bowels gave a similar threat of release.
Had he seen her. Had he heard?
She had to run. Now.
Crash! Glass shattered. And there was a muffled expletive.
Mr. Lee... was he hurt?
It was of no concern for Jukyung.
She turned and put a clammy hand on the cold metal doorknob.
A pained groan echoed through the house.
Mr. Lee was hurt.
But Jukyung had to leave. Or she would get fired.
But what if he needed help?
Jukyung chewed her lip, her brows threatening to meet in the middle with how deeply she was frowning.
Carefully, she tip toed her way through the drawing room, to the small corridor that led towards the dining room's door.
Flickering light spilling through the door cracks suggested that Mr. Lee was using candles. It made the darkness of the house all the more eerie and ghastly. Jukyung would have loved watching a scene like this in a horror movie. But experiencing it in real life was not as entertaining.
The groan was more audible as Jukyung neared the dining room's door. It was normally locked, but Jukyung noticed that it was slightly ajar now.
She entered, a chill running down her spine as she stood in what looked like a wide, open dining room. A huge table sat in the middle. Large red velvet curtains were gathered to either side of a huge window that had been covered up in newspapers. The room was well lit with candles but it was dirty, dusty and in desperate need of cleaning. The candles dripped wax which had managed to pool on the floor, spilling over the holders. Thick cobwebs adorned each corner and the table settings. Only one set of plates set at the head of the table appeared to be clean.
The sounds seemed to be coming from the door all the way across the dining hall. No doubt it led to the kitchen. As Jukyung walked, she decided it was best to announce her presence.
"M-M-Mr. Lee?" Jukyung tried to speak but only air came out of her bone-dry throat. She cleared her throat as she crossed the dining room and reached the kitchen door.
She could hear him, moving around erratically. She heard the crunch of glass beneath his footstep and then a loud curse.
He was hurt. She was sure of it now.
"What now? Do I just lick it off like a dog?"
The words made no sense to Jukyung. She raised a shaking hard to push the door open.
"Mr. Lee?" Her voice finally squeaked out. The door soundlessly opened and Jukuyng gasped, jumped back.
The kitchen matched the state of the dining hall. Dusty with pools of wax where candles were set up on the walls and with spiders crawling around in their cobwebs.
But Jukyung didn't notice any of that. Her wide eyes were fixated on the skinny young man with a ghostly pale complexion, bent over broken bottles of wine—or what appeared to be wine.
But it was the red liquid smeared around his mouth, dripping from sharp, elongated teeth, that hinted to Jukyung that the viscous substance pooling around the man's feet wasn't wine. Her eyes flicked to his hands that were cradling the bottom half of the wine bottle, the liquid spilling from it as the man held it at an awkward angle.
Jukyung gaped at his hands. Bony, elongated fingers, blackened at the tips where the nails grew sharply like claws. If he swiped it at her, he would rip her apart.
Then she got a whiff of metallic, iron funk. The odor was familiar. She smelled it every month when her period came. And then she was sure, that it was indeed blood that was crawling near her feet. And that the creature looking at her with all black eyes was a monster.
It was her own scream that shook her out of her state and made her run.
She didn't turn back. Didn't dare look at the creature with blood dripping from his mouth. For she feared that if she turned, he would kill her.
She ran and ran and ran, all the while praying to Heaven to not let her die.
The silhouette stood in the open doorway of his house. His eyes too were wide in surprise.
He couldn't believe what had just happened. And worse, that he had let the girl he had deemed as harmless get away.
He needed to stop her. Needed to make sure she wouldn't ruin the life he had so carefully crafted.
Jukyung had never been athletic. But she managed to run all the way home that night, and she didn't even remember how she got there. She only remembered reaching her street, nearing the long step street that led to her house. As she rounded the corner, she slammed into someone coming down.
"Oof! What the hell, Lim Jukyung?! Can't you watch where you're—what's wrong?"
It was Han Seojun. A familiar face in his familiar leather jacket and silver piercings, looking at her through sharp, perceptive eyes. Jukyung felt relief wash over as tears welled up in her eyes.
"It was—it was—" She shook all over, trembling from the tremendous exercise she had just done.
Seojun grabbed both her arms in concern. "What happened? Are you okay?" he said in concern.
Jukyung drew in her breath convulsively before muttering out the only thing that made sense to what she had just seen. A creature with long sharp teeth. A creature that drank blood. A creature that hid in his house, never came out during the day, yet always seemed to hear and sense what was going on in his house.
"Vampire."
And then she passed out, Seojun catching her in his arms.