Hyejeong was out of breath as she ran up the steps to the second wooden house. It had an old, antique feel to it, like it was a paper house in a paper town, with cute cutout shapes etched onto the wood. Hyejeong could feel that she liked this place already. Her hands ran over the wooden knocker, before she noticed the cursive words on a plaque above it.
Pretty things glow best in the dark, just as dark things glow best in the light.
Was it some kind of test? Hyejeong had no idea.
She turned back, seeing that horrible beam of light still aimed towards the sky. Minhyuk and Yukwon were nowhere to be found, and a sense of urgency filled her already pounding heart, and, taking a long breath, she pushed open the wooden door and entered.
She was in a dimly lit hallway. There was a dark purple wallpaper on the walls, with black Victorian patterns on it. The funny thing was the sheer number of mirrors on the wall, and the feeling that she was being watched filled her every being.
One chandelier hung over her head, the candles dripping with wax onto the wooden floor. As she walked deeper, her sneakers screeched against the polished surface, making her wince.
It was really too quiet in here, she thought.
It was so silent, that even her breaths sounded haggard in the stillness of the whole place. There were stairs leading upstairs, but she felt like she had to give a once-over down here first.
She peeked into an open doorway, seeing another dimly lit sitting room. Hyejeong ran over the place with her flashlight.
There were blood-red curtains, with black lace trimmings. A chimney was in the middle of the wall, a fire blazing away. There were plush single armchairs, and a loveseat in the middle of them all. More mirrors adorned the walls, reflecting the light around the room.
Creepy. Very creepy.
And as she was about to shine her light around the rest of the room, the door behind her closed, making her gasp and turn around violently. The motion made her spin, and she tripped on the carpet, falling on the floor with a crash.
Her flashlight hit the floor with a crack and Hyejeong hoped the light wouldn't die on her.
It didn't, just flickering before reverting back to the constant beam.
She grabbed it, and found that she couldn't move her legs. Confused, she shone her light on her legs, and found them wound up with ribbon.
What the-
Then she saw the other pair of legs next to hers.
They were stockinged, wearing ballet shoes that had ribbons crisscrossing around her legs. Those legs soon hid under a puffy frilly skirt the color of an orange, and to the body of a still doll.
Hyejeong recognized her as one of Yujeong's girls. She couldn't tell who it was.
The girl's face was covered with a black netting.
Hyejeong tried to keep down the rising lump in her throat as she placed the flashlight on the ground for a while. She hurriedly untied her legs, before she quickly stood up and went to the door.
It was no surprise that it was locked. How could it not be?
Great. She was trapped with a girl pretending to be a doll.
There was a soft giggle behind her.
Hyejeong turned to the spot where the girl was last seen, finding it empty.
She ran her flashlight around the room again, and found the girl standing at the drapes with a slight smile, her body rigid. But she was different. Her hair was a mess of frizzy curls, over a dark green dress. It wasn't the same girl. But that wasn't what was disturbing.
With the added light of the fire, she could see the ribbons extended out of the girl's arms, as though they were sewn into her skin.
Hyejeong swallowed, turning to the door again and rattling the door knob.
"Mi-seol," someone whispered right behind her, and Hyejeong whipped around, the back of her neck burning.
The girl was gone, and no one was behind her.
But there was a ribbon under her shoe. Hyejeong stared at it, trailing from under her sneaker and towards the curtain, which was quivering slightly. A soft giggle sounded from behind.
That's it, she thought, returning to the door, I'm getting out of here.
"Hey!" she cried, knocking urgently on the door, "Let me out!"
More giggles. They were getting louder.
And there was definitely more than one person.
She made out someone saying something.
"He never lets us leave, Mi-seol," the voice said over the soft murmurs, as Hyejeong turned to the curtain, "He says pretty things glow best in the dark."
Hyejeong swallowed. The words on the door. "Who's he?"
Silence.
I suppose they're not going to disclose, she thought. "So?" she asked softly, "What happens now?"
The ribbon tugged under her shoe, and she stepped out of the way.
"He says that we must be pretty enough," the voice said, just as softly.
"Come closssssser," another voice hissed, "And we'll tell youuuuu."
Hyejeong shook her head. "I-I can't. I have to find Jaehyo. I have to find my clue."
As she banged on the door, she heard more laughter.
"You can't get out unless he comes and opens the door."
Pale hands appeared at the edges of the curtains, long fingernails covered with glitter as Hyejeong's flashlight glinted off them, more hands pulling the curtains apart.
And then there was hair, then faces.
Three faces, all covered with the black netting, under colorful wigs and even more colorful dresses. But each one was the same as the other, with ribbons attached to their skin. They walked slowly towards her, almost sluggishly.
"You must be pretty, darling Mi-seol," the third girl, with a scarlet dress and rainbow colored hair, seemed to admonish her tiredly, "Only pretty girls are wanted here."
Hyejeong felt the flicker of fear turning into something more as they advanced on her. She could feel the hard surface of the door behind her back, and she leaned away from them as much as she could.
"He only lets out those he thinks are pretty?" she asked them, trying to drag out the conversation.
A cold hand clamped down on her arm. "Of course, Mi-Seol," the one in orange practically purred, "Don't you want to be beautiful? Don't you want to tempt he who wants you? Don't you want to tempt them all?"
Hyejeong felt her cheeks turn hot.
"Don't you?" the other two echoed, their hands feeling her own frozen ones. "We'll make you beautiful for him," someone whispered against her cheek, their laughter soft against her skin.
She realized that this wasn't what she had expected. They were implying that they were women who gave pleasure to the men...
Weren't they?
Were they?
Where had she ended up?
Wasn't this just a dollhouse?
The apparent shock rendered her defenseless against the three girls coming closer, and she finally realized why they hid their faces. It was the fact that in the end, no one really knew who their prostitutes were.
They were just pretty faces. Or rather, the fair ones.
Pretty things glow best in the dark.
Was it referring to beauty, or was it the secret that a woman wanted to keep until the marriage bed?
Someone managed to wrench the flashlight from Hyejeong, and she struggled against the other two holding her down. "Let me go," she cried, before her eyes landed on the girl who was taking out a ribbon from her waist, the other hand holding a long needle.
"What are you doing?" Hyejeong gasped.
The girl in green let out a soft laugh. "It won't hurt, Mi-seol. It won't hurt at all. You'll be just like us."
"You'll be pretty."
"You'll be the fairest of them all."
Hyejeong's screams echoed through the room, never to be revealed.
***
Jungwoo sat on the iron bench on the other side of the Gallery, humming a song.
Taeha sat next to him, too lost in his thoughts that he had failed to realize that Jungwoo had been humming the song for almost twenty minutes now.
In the distance, two car headlights appeared, and Taeha momentarily blinked.
Jungwoo stopped humming. "And here comes Taewoon," he commented idly.
Taeha glanced at him. "Do you think he'll be mad?"
The latter smiled, patting him on the hand. "I should think so. He seems to have a soft spot for her," Jungwoo said with a little scoff, "I heard he had been working on some stuff for her until he won't sleep."
Taeha raised an eyebrow as he spotted Taewoon get out of the car. "You think he really likes her?" he asked, "Like, like like her?"
Jungwoo shrugged. "What does it matter? She's probably going to run away after tonight, if Jiho gets his way."
"What do you mean, 'if Jiho gets his way'?"
"Did I say that?" Jungwoo asked, playfully covering his mouth. "Whoops."
Taewoon waved at them.
"Aaaaaand he's making his way here," Jungwoo muttered, before taking out a walkie talkie. "Code red!" he hissed into the speaker, "Grandpa is in! I repeat, GRANDPA IS IN!"
A series of muffled responses greeted back, causing him to roll his eyes.
Taewoon, in the meantime, was almost upon them. He frowned, staring at them. "Why are you in gear?" he asked, before coughing into his hand. His work clothes were smudged with black dirt prints from the garage job he held.
Taeha was about to answer when Jungwoo smoothly interrupted. "We did a show for the new manager, oh, what's her name?"
"Mi-seol," both Taeha and Taewoon said at the same time.
The two glanced at each other.
"Yeah, that's her name," Jungwoo continued, "Anyway-"
A scream pierced the silence of the night, making the three pause.
Taewoon looked into the Gallery. "Jungwoo," he said in a low voice, before letting out a long, measured sigh.
"Zico planned it," Taeha interjected, "I-"
Taewoon turned to him, face grim. "I'm disappointed that you, out of all people, would help him, Taeha," hesaid, before massaging his head. "Jungwoo, open the gate."
Jungwoo stared back coolly. "You know the rules, hyung."
"Jungwoo," Taewoon growled, "Open. It. Now."
***
The first thing she noticed was the fact that she was on the loveseat, near the fire.
The second thing was the three faces peering down at her, the firelight casting grim shadows on their black faces.
With a start, she sat up, gasping.
She felt...different.
She looked down, seeing the lace gloves on her forearms, the stockings on her feet, the black dress on her body.
An anguished cry escaped her lips, and she hugged herself, as if it could protect her from these people.
"Don't be such a scaredy-cat," the girl in green said, "We're all women here."
Hyejeong felt scandalized. "You...you...." She was covered, top to toe, in black and gold. Snug bodice, golden prints on her skirt, a pair of patterned socks covering her feet till her thigh. And on her elbows, the ribbons, tied to her arms instead of sewn.
The orange one let out a laugh. "Oh, come on, darling, we can't really see you in the dark. And we have these masks too."
"Better than have him do it," the one in red said almost inaudibly.
"Jinye!" the two girls squealed, pelting her with playful slaps.
"What! I wouldn't mind!"
Hyejeong remembered that name. The one who was always talking to Yujeong. Her right hand woman.
"I have to go," she cried, pushing the three people out of her face, and that was when the door opened, revealing Jaehyo, who was looking like he had stepped out of a model photoshoot. Light spilled from the hallway behind him.
He looked like a vampire. His meek demeanor was gone, replaced by a crisp maroon suit, fierce black hair instead of platinum, and a face as fair as one.
"Jaehyo!" the girls trilled behind her as she stared at him.
Hyejeong was taken aback by the intensity of his gaze as he walked straight towards her, grabbing her arm.
"You're coming with me," he told her, before practically dragging her with him.
"Jaehyo-ssi," Hyejeong began, but as she passed the mirrors on the walls she felt the words disappear from her lips. It was as if she couldn't even recognize herself.
Her face, from the flashing of her reflections as Jaehyo brought her with him, was painted, and her face was pale. Her hair hung in loose braids, swinging behind her back.
They went up the stairs.
"Where are we going?" she asked, as they reached the second floor.
There was just a door. No hallways to other rooms, just a door to a room. A plaque hung over the door.
Safe Zone
Jaehyo turned to her. "Your clue is in there," he said in a low voice.
Hyejeong looked up, confused. "But aren't you-" she asked, remembering the words on the clue, "Aren't you the fairest of them all?"
"Of course I am the fairest of them all," he scoffed, "But it's in there."
She gave him a skeptical look. "Come in with me."
"Why?"
She rolled her eyes. "So you don't lock me in! I know what you're trying to do here," she cried, "You're wasting my time! Why can't you just give me the clue?!"
"Fine, I'll go in!" he cried, opening the door.
But he didn't. Instead, he pushed her in, muttering a sorry, as she fell to the ground. She was going to protest, but she was blinded by the amount of light that she merely shielded her eyes from the onslaught of white light.
"She's here now..." he said nervously, and that was when Hyejeong knew.
Just the sudden change in tone of voice could speak so many things, and Hyejeong knew whose company she was in now.
She looked up, seeing a table in the middle of a bare room that had swirly wallpaper, and sitting on the table, his legs crossed, face sour, and hair wild, was the great Woo Jiho himself.
Marionette prostitutes, vampire men, and Zico...This was not what was supposed to be in a dollhouse.
***
DUN DUN DUUUUUN
The suspense is real in this one.
I had an exam this morning, and I was supposed to write five essays out of eight. But I wrote three. Because during my diploma course, I had to write three essays out of five.
*flips tables and everything, including self*
I'm gonna add more to this chapter when I get home from school. I think a scene with Zico deserves its own chapter, don't you think? *wink wink*