The night was too quiet.
There were no people around and only a few cars passed by.
Jungtae rubbed his eyes, stifling a yawn as he trudged up the steps to Taekyun's house. His hair was all messy and sticking up, his shirt wrinkled, jacket slung on one shoulder.
"I still feel sleepy after walking this far…" he muttered, voice thick with exhaustion.
He'd almost fallen back asleep after Taekyun's mother called him earlier, her voice trembling through the phone.
"Jungtae, could you check on him? He hasn't answered my calls all day."
So here he was , half-asleep, and thinking why would his friend ignore his mom, knowing him, he never wants to let his mother worry, this is the first time. Did he get drunk again?
When he reached the front porch, the unease hit him. The house was dark. Completely dark. Not a single light on.
"Did he drink himself stupidly again?" Jungtae sighed, knocking lazily. "Taekyun. Hey, idiot, open up. Your mom's worried…huh?"
His words stopped when his hand brushed the doorknob. It turned easily.
Unlocked.
Jungtae frowned, a small chill running down his spine. "Weird…" He pushed the door open.
The smell hit him first, sharp, metallic, suffocating. A bitter taste hit him in the throat.
Then he saw it.
Dark blood smeared across the floor, thick and uneven, trailing deeper inside the room.
"W–what the hell…?"
Panic jolted through him, banishing the last of his sleepiness. "Taekyun?! Taekyun, are you home?! Heyy…"
His heart pounded as he followed the trail, footsteps unsteady. Every step felt heavier, like the air itself was pressing down on him.
The trail led to the living room.
And then.
"No…"
"W-what…"
Taekyun's body lay motionless across the floor, soaked in blood. His face. No. What was left of it was unrecognizable. Hands limp at his sides. One eye open, it's red.
Jungtae staggered back, bile rising in his throat. Knees went weak as the horror sank in. A wave of nausea hit him in the stomach, witnessing a gruesome scene. Bitter taste flooded his mouth.
That's when he saw him.
A man sat in a chair at the center of the living room, legs crossed, as if he'd been waiting for him all along. Blood slicked his hands, dripping onto the wooden floor with soft sounding taps.
He smiled. A grin stretched across his face.
Jungtae's breath hitched. "Y-you… how did you get out of prison?" Words spilling out in broken gasps.
The man stood, his movements slow, deliberate, the grin stretching wider.
Jungtae's chest tightened.
"Did you miss me? Han Jungtae?"
Jungtae couldn't move. Six years, it had been six years since he last saw that face. He fumbled for his phone, heart slamming in his chest.
The man reached him, pressing a warm, sticky hand against his cheek. The smell of blood filled his nose.
"You have changed." As he looked at Jungtae, his eyes narrowed slightly, the corners tightening with a mixture of longing and hurt.
"D-don't touch me!" Jungtae flinched and jerked back, voice cracking.He hid his phone behind, but before he could dial, a hand grasped around his wrist.
"Let go!!!"
He twisted, kicking hard enough to break free. The man stumbled a step, laughing softly, a chilling, amused sound.
"You really think of me as a monster, until now. Hahaha!"
Jungtae didn't wait. He bolted.
He burst out of the house, lungs burning, shoes pounding against the pavement. Every heartbeat screamed to run faster.
Behind him, that voice was calm, mocking, echoed down the empty street.
"Hey! That's not a proper way to greet me after six years. You're hurting my feelings!"
Jungtae's hands trembled so badly, almost dropping the phone, as he dialed, tears blurring his vision.
"Come on, pick up, pick up!!"
He turned sharply into a narrow alley. His breath came in shallow gasps. He didn't dare look back.
Then–
CRACK.
Pain exploded in his skull. His phone slipped from his hand, shattering against the ground. The world spun around him, alley walls twisting into smeared shadows.
He collapsed, the ground cold and hard beneath him. His vision dimmed, and through the blur, that same face hovered above him, grinning, eyes gleaming in the dark.
"You shouldn't have run, Jungtae. You've hurt my feelings. I thought you missed me. You can't run away from me now."
The last thing Jungtae heard before darkness swallowed him was quiet laughter, low, satisfied, and the faint sensation of being lifted off the ground.
How did it come to this…?
ৎ────
Eight Years Earlier
"Han Jungtae! Wake up already. It's break time!"
A hand shook his shoulder. Jungtae blinked awake, hair a mess, cheek marked from the desk. Woojin stood over him, sighing.
"Mm? Oh. Guess I dozed off," Jungtae mumbled, sitting up.
"You're lucky the teacher didn't catch you earlier."
Jungtae grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, that's why I was able to sleep until break time. Hahaha."
Woojin smiled, soft and patient, the kind that always made Jungtae's chest feel safe.
"Come on. My treat. Let's grab some drinks in the cafeteria."
"Seriously? You're the best! Let's go. " Jungtae beamed, throwing his jacket over his shoulder as they walked out.
The cafeteria was filled with chatter and laughter. Woojin stayed quiet beside him, but Jungtae filled the silence with chatter, teasing, and laughter, earning fond sighs from his best friend.
They'd just gotten their drinks when a loud crash could be heard across the room.
Soup splattered across the floor. Gasps spread through the crowd as students gathered.
At the center stood Kwon Owen. The richest student in school, his expensive blazer drenched in broth. His jaw was tight, eyes burning down at the trembling boy in front of him.
"Fuck," Owen hissed, yanking his stained sleeve. "Do you even know how much this costs?"
The boy stammered apologies, bowing over and over. Owen shoved him back.
"Pathetic."
The crowd fell silent. No one moved.
Until Jungtae did.
His grip tightened around his drink as his feet carried him forward before he could think.
"Hey."
Owen froze, fist half-raised. Ready to strike. Jungtae's hand grabbed his wrist. Owen turned slowly, eyes narrowing.
"Huh?"
Jungtae stood his ground. "He already said sorry. Stop hitting people just because you can."
A murmur ran through the onlookers.
Owen's expression shifted, surprise first, then amusement. A crooked smirk curved his lips. He yanked his hand free, chuckling low.
"You've got guts."
"I've got more than that."
The tension thickened.
Woojin, watching from the edge of the crowd, sighed quietly. He knew this tone, the one Jungtae used right before getting himself into trouble.
Owen chuckled, brushing his fingers through his hair. "Interesting."
Jungtae turned away, guiding the trembling boy out of the crowd. Woojin followed, shaking his head.
"You okay?" Woojin asked quietly as they walked away.
Jungtae exhaled, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Just hate guys like him."
But behind them, Owen's gaze lingered, following Jungtae's every step, sharp, calculating, intrigued.
"His name is Jungtae?, hmm…" Owen muttered to his friend standing next to him.
His lips twitched.
"Looks like I just found someone more interesting."