put not your trust in men or devils - not idols!college!supernatural!dreamcatcher (tw: horror)

[ec.li.ps.e]

They head around to the back of the dorms to avoid attracting attention from anyone in there, sneaking around the dumpsters that Yoobin dove into just three days ago. Gahyeon almost feels like a spy. She slides around, her back pressed against the wall, just behind Yoobin, who hasn’t even bothered to hide the gun.

“Do you think he’s here?” Gahyeon whispers as they inch around to the stairs.

Yoobin shrugs. “Probably. I don’t think he expected any of us to survive that, and this is the best place to hide.” She hops up the stairs, and Gahyeon follows her. She curls her hand into her chest, peers over her friend’s shoulder.

The door is just a bit open. Just slightly ajar. Gahyeon latches onto Yoobin’s hand. “ Oh .”

“Ah, shit,” Yoobin whispers.

She shrugs Gahyeon off and kicks the door open. It slams, bounces off the wall, rattles.

There’s no response from inside. The only sound is the shaking of the door on its hinges. Gahyeon slowly lets out a breath. Her hands are shaking. “So he’s not inside,” she says.

" Or he’s waiting.” Yoobin picks her way inside, both her hands gripping the gun. Gahyeon follows, squints, looks around.

She half expects to see Shiang stretched out on the couch, or leaning on the doorway, or something mocking like that, like a cartoon villain. But there’s no one there. There’s no sign of anyone being inside except for the door being slightly open. Somehow that makes her feel worse.

She darts out from behind Yoobin and makes her way to the kitchen. “What-?” Yoobin asks, whirling around. “Where are you going?”

Gahyeon stumbles over her own foot. “Grabbing a knife!” she calls over her shoulder. She slides over the tiles, fumbles for the knife blocks, and pulls out a decently sized chef’s knife. She’s clenching it with white knuckles and holding it like a sword. “You know. Just in case.”

“In case what?” says a new voice, a voice neither of them want to hear. Gahyeon turns around and points the blade at the doorway. Of course. Of fucking course.

Shiang leans in the doorway, one arm propped over a silver crutch, bandages poking out from under his sleeves. “Oh, don’t look so shocked. You knew I wouldn’t die so easily, right?” He cocks an eyebrow, but other than that, there is no emotion on his face. “Not with God on my side.”

“What do you want?” Gahyeon says, taking a step towards Yoobin. Her knife is held at arm’s length. “Why are you doing this?”

Shiang shrugs, closes his eyes. “It’s not what I want. It’s what God wants. And who in their right mind would try to defy God?” He stumbles into the apartment. “I don’t have a choice here.”

One of his hands is in his pocket. Gahyeon’s eyes widen.

Yoobin squeezes the trigger - the gunshot echoes around the room, rings in Gahyeon’s ears - the bullet buries itself in Shiang’s side, but he doesn’t even seem to flinch. He coughs. “Liar,” she says, her voice breathy. “Leave us alone.”

“There’s always a choice!” Gahyeon says. Her hands are shaking. “You didn’t have to-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shiang mutters. He lifts his hand out of his pocket and fires the dully colored gun at her. “I didn’t have to do it this way, but it would have happened eventually. Fate is a tricky thing like that.”

The bullet sinks into Gahyeon’s thigh; she crumples, pressing her hand to the wound. It burns , burns like nothing she’s ever felt before, and she screams. The knife clatters to the floor. “Y-You shot me,” she whimpers. “Oh my god, oh my god.”

Yoobin steps in front of her, as if to shield her. “Hide,” she hisses, cocking the gun. “And call someone.”

“They won’t be here in time,” Shiang drawls. “Don’t you know when time’s up?”

Bang . Another shot. “ Please shut up,” she says. She kicks the knife back so that it’s within Gahyeon’s reach; the younger girl picks it up and starts crawling backwards. Yoobin’s right - she needs to hide. But where can she go? She tries to push herself to her feet, winces from the pain radiating from the wound, starts to run down the hall, back towards the bedrooms. Every step hurts, burns like fire. She feels like she’s going to throw up.

“You guys really are stupid,” Shiang mutters. “Come on, Gahyeon. Give up.”

Gahyeon glances over her shoulder just in time to see Shiang moving to point the gun at her again. She ducks - the bullet lands in the wall above her head.

“Fuck you!” she yells. Her knees buckle beneath her. She crawls the rest of the way towards the first door she sees, rolls into it - another gunshot; this one hits her ankle before she can pull it inside. She grits her teeth, a strangled squeal escaping her throat. She pulls herself against the wall, pulls her leg into her chest, tries to catch her breath. Her head spins. She presses the back of her head against the wall and takes a few deep breaths.

Yoobin’s yelling something, but Gahyeon can barely pay attention to it. She looks down at her leg, then pulls her phone out. Her fingers are sticky with blood. It takes a few tries for her to dial the police.

Another gunshot ringing in the silence. “There is- someone- in my house-” she hisses to the phone, as soon as the operator picks up. “And I th-think it’s the man on the news.”

She decides it would be too suspicious if she said that it is Shiang. She also leaves out the gun. “Pl-please, hurry,” she says. “I’m gonna die -”

She’s cut off by steps, stomping, thumping steps down the hallway. Gahyeon squeaks; the phone slips from her hands. She peers around the doorway just in time to see Shiang’s crutch slam into Yoobin’s stomach. Her friend smacks into the wall, slumps down. Blood blooms from a wound on her abdomen and stains her shirt crimson. Gahyeon gasps and presses her hand to her mouth.

“Y-Yoobin-” she whispers. She reaches for the knife without taking her eyes off the other girl. “Oh, my God-”

Shiang turns around and smiles - his teeth are stained red. “I told you,” he says. “Time’s up.”

He limps into the room. Gahyeon wraps her fingers around the handle, pushes herself backwards. “I-” she stammers. She’s trying to say something, but she doesn’t know what she can say. Her mind’s gone completely blank. There’s just fear, and anger, and hatred .

He smiles wider, but his eyes remain blank. “Something wrong, Gahyeon?” he asks, crouching down to her level. “Are you not prepared to meet your fate?”

She backs up a bit more and raises the knife as a shield. Out of the corner of her eye, something flickers - Yoobin? Maybe? Gahyeon can’t tell. She looks up at her assailant. “ You …” she says.

She lashes out, more to scare him off than actually hit. She hits his collarbone, but it’s only a scratch. It’s enough for him to stumble backwards though. Gahyeon uses this opportunity to push herself back up to her feet again. The bunk bed is her support. She swallows. “ You’re not going to kill me.”

Shiang wipes at the wound on his neck, tilts his head. “How suicidal of you,” he says. He lifts his gun and cocks it.

Think, Gahyeon . She’s running out of time. Run forward? Stab him, shove him to the side, get Yoobin’s gun? No, he’s going to shoot. He’ll shoot if she doesn’t move, shoot no matter what she does. She’s out of options.

A surprisingly pleasant breeze blows from the window and tickles the back of her neck. Right. The window’s open. Right. They’re not that far from the ground, and there’s a dumpster beneath her. Cushioning. She can jump.

“Not suicidal,” she says.

She swings forward and stabs at his shoulder. The knife sinks right under the bone; the blow knocks him off balance. She pauses, trying to think of something to say, then decides against it. This isn’t a movie. There’s no time to be witty. She just needs to jump.

So she does. She pops herself up on the windowsill and throws herself out.

Her foot catches on the windowsill.

 

[ec.li.ps.e]

chapter 20: fight, part two
I thought I was smarter than this , Yoobin thinks, as Shiang's crutch knocks the air from her lungs and sends her flying into the wall. She coughs once, and blood dribbles from her lips; oh, dammit, the bullet has hit her lungs. She's sort of whistling on the inhale. That's not good.

But she's being ignored, for now. The murderer - there's no other word for him - stomps right past her and lurches into their room. Good . She'll play dead. Then, when he's not expecting it, she'll shoot him and-

She tenses. The gun. She's not holding the gun. She flutters her eyes open halfway - out of the corner of her eye, something metal glitters. It must have fallen from her hands when she fell. She tries to reach for it, freezes again. Can't move too much or she'll breathe too loudly. Can't breathe or she'll attract attention.

"You're not going to kill me," Gahyeon is saying, and she sounds almost confident. Yoobin hopes this means she's got a plan, but she can't be too sure. At least the younger girl's keeping Shiang distracted. It should be enough, right?

"How suicidal of you," Shiang says. God, his voice makes Yoobin's ears hurt. She’s never wanted someone to be quiet more in her life. Her fingertips brush the edge of the gun. Just an inch further, just a bit more.

“Not suicidal ,” Gahyeon says.

Success . Yoobin pulls the gun into her. With her other hand, she wipes the blood from her lips. Shiang’s got his back turned to her; it should be a clean shot, and then he’s down. Her hands are shaking just a bit, but that shouldn’t be an issue, right?

She lifts the gun, aims, goes to squeeze the trigger.

And Gahyeon screams .

Something slams into the metal of the dumpster.

Yoobin fires involuntarily. She watches in abject horror as the bullet hits his upper thigh and doesn’t even stop him in his slow trek towards the window. Christ, he’s not even human , she thinks. She realizes, with a horrible sinking feeling in her chest, that she’s probably going to die here.

“Well, that makes my life easier,” he’s saying, leaning out the window, holding his gun towards the ceiling. He turns around slowly, slowly, as if taunting her, tilts his head. “But you’re still alive.”

Yoobin doesn’t think; she just shoots. The bullet goes wide and embeds into the wall next to his hip. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She’s down to one bullet, or something like that. She’s lost track. Her head is spinning.

He doesn’t react, just stares at her, impassive and cold. “You’re not giving up,” he says. There’s a blank smile on his face. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

She shrugs. “Are you proud?” she wheezes, despite the pain in her chest. “Of… this?” Lifts her hand, waves it vaguely.

He examines his gun, pushing the magazine out. “I suppose I could have done better,” he says. “Made less of a mess, you know. But that’s not my fault, is it?” He clicks the magazine back into place, levels the weapon at Yoobin’s eyes. “Three out of seven isn’t that bad when you’re all fighting back like that.”

Yoobin says nothing. She doesn’t know what she could say, at this point. She’s lost. That part’s obvious. No use struggling further. Might as well just let the black swirls overtake her vision; might as well just slip into the void that’s opening around her.

“Say hi to God for me,” Shiang says.

“Oh my God ,” screams a new voice from the doorway. “Y-Yoobin? Is that you?”

Yoobin’s eyes fly open. She snaps her head over to the side, towards the wide open doorway and her frightened neighbor standing within. Shuhua points with one hand, covers her mouth with the other. “Oh, my God ! What-”

“This doesn’t concern you,” Shiang says. He doesn’t lift the gun from Yoobin’s head. “Leave, now.”

Shuhua shakes her head. It’s difficult to tell from here, but it looks like she’s coming inside. “You’re gonna kill her, oh my God !” Her voice trembles. “Wh-Why-”

He sets his jaw. “I told you. This doesn’t concern you.”

Yoobin wonders if it’s worth it to run. She might have enough strength. She wiggles her toes in her shoe.

Her neighbor’s frozen. “You were on the news,” she says. “You- The car crash- You-” She stuffs her hand in her pocket and pulls her phone out. “This-”

Shiang points the gun at her hand. “Don’t interfere,” he spits. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“No!” Shuhua presses the phone to her ear. “You’re not killing anyone!”

“Run!” Yoobin yells, as Shiang fires. Shuhua yelps, jumps away. The bullet only grazes her hand, thankfully, but her phone slips from her hands and hits the ground, shatters. Yoobin takes the opportunity to push herself towards the other girl. She leans forward, coughs blood. Shuhua rushes towards her and loops her arms under Yoobin’s shoulders.

Shiang curses under his breath; the gun clicks open again. “He’s out,” Yoobin whispers. She staggers to her feet with Shuhua’s help. Black spots swirl around her vision. “We need to run.”

The younger girl nods dazedly. “What’s going on?” she says, lurching back towards the front door.

“N-no time to explain,” Yoobin says. She squeezes her left hand; she’s still holding the gun. “Did you see Gahyeon?”

“ Dammit !” Shiang hisses. “Where did I-”

Yoobin wastes no time in getting out of there. She uses the nearby chair to support her and throws herself towards the doorway. She stumbles on the way out, slams into the railing of the stairs. Her breath is getting harder and harder to catch. She grips the railing as tightly as she can.

Shuhua’s hands are on her back. “Yoobin, please , you need help, let me-”

“There’s no-” Yoobin’s words are harsh, ragged gasps- “time- fuck.” She squeezes her eyes shut in the hopes that her vision will clear up. “Tell me, did you see Gahyeon?”

“No- you have a gun? Why do you have a gun?”

Yoobin sighs, nudges the younger girl off of her, and staggers towards the stairs. She needs to get to the back, to the dumpsters; she needs to see if Gahyeon’s okay. “L-Listen to me,” she says, ignoring Shuhua’s squeaks of protest. “You need to get back to your dorm and call the police. Forget about helping me now, just go.” Her hands scrape against the brick of the building supporting her, and brown blood smears as she walks and marks her path. “Okay?”

Shuhua rushes towards her, but Yoobin just fights her off again. “But you’re hurt . Come with me, I can get you patched up-”

Yoobin digs her fingers into the corner and shakes her head. It’s a fight to stay conscious at this point. “He’ll kill you, too,” she says. “Or he might- I don’t- I don’t know what he wants, I just don’t want to- you can’t die, too , it’s… Just go, Shuhua. Leave me be and save yourself.” Take a hesitant step forward, down into the alleyway, down towards Gahyeon. “And put that son of a ***** in jail, for all of us.”

 

[ec.li.ps.e]

There’s a heap lying on the ground just by the dumpster. It’s moving - barely moving, but moving - and Yoobin does her best to quicken her pace, but it’s too much work; she stumbles, drops to her knees, crawls the rest of the way towards the lump. Sure enough, it’s Gahyeon - there’s a massive gash on her head, matting her hair. Yoobin lifts her head and cradles her bloodstained cheek. There's barely any response, save for a slight catch in her breathing. "Oh, god," Yoobin whispers, and she strokes her cheek.

"Yoobin?" Gahyeon says. She flickers her eyes open. "How did…"

Yoobin shakes her head slowly. "Luck," she said.

Gahyeon gasps in a breath, closes her eyes again. "I fell," she says, leaning into Yoobin's touch. "Hit my head. C-Can't see. 'M dizzy." She lifts her hand slowly, stretches her hand up. "It hurts."

"I know," Yoobin says. "It's okay." She can't tell for sure, but it looks like the wound isn't too bad, like it could be survivable. One of them could make it. One is better than none.

Her thoughts are interrupted by Shuhua, again . The younger girl screams and rushes forward. "Not you too ," she stammers. She crouches next to the two of them, curls her fingers by her face. "You-"

"When'd you get here?" Gahyeon slurs.

Yoobin fights to keep her eyes open. "Go. Run, Shuhua." She squeezes Gahyeon's cheek involuntarily. "Get help."

Shuhua doesn't move, just stands there, frozen. "H-Help," she echoes. "Help." She starts to walk backwards.

"Am I going to die?" Gahyeon asks. Her voice is a whimper, light and breathy. She stares at Yoobin with glassy doe eyes.

Yoobin doesn’t know what to say. She shakes her head, moves her lips.

“You’ve finally accepted it,” Shiang says, and Shuhua screams. Yoobin snaps her head towards the parking lot and regrets it - black spots swim over her vision. He cocks his gun; it’s pointing at the two of them. “Yes, Gahyeon. You are-” he’s cut off by a fit of coughing- “ both going to die.”

Gahyeon stirs, rolling over and trying to sit up. She blinks, but doesn’t speak.

He laughs mechanically, tauntingly. “Nothing to say, hm?” He steps forward. “Finally chosen to go quietly?”

“Who are you?” Shuhua asks. Yoobin curses under her breath. “Why are you doing this?”

Shiang stares at her, but doesn’t lift his aim from the two girls in front of him. “I could ask you the same thing,” he says.

Gahyeon stretches her hand out towards Yoobin’s gun, which is lying, forgotten, next to them. Shuhua, meanwhile, is jutting her chin out and shaking like a leaf. “I’m- I’m a good person,” she says, folding her arms. “And I don’t want you to kill them.”

“Miss,” he says, unimpressed, “it’s too late for that. God’s declared that they are to die, so they must die. I have no idea who you are, no idea if you are important or not. The best thing you could do is run.”

“I think I have a shot,” Gahyeon whispers. “Should I…?”

“Is that even a question?” Yoobin replies.

Shuhua is standing off to the side now, her hands held out in front of her. “Back off,” she says. "I'm- I'm warning you!"

Shiang sighs, lowers the gun. "My dear ," he says, "you do know this is worthless, right? Yoobin's moments away from bleeding to death, and Gahyeon's not doing much better. They are going to die, just as God has declared." His lips curl in a sneer. "What's your name, girl?"

Gahyeon closes her fingers around the gun and pulls it in, bumping it against Yoobin's knee.

"Shuhua," says the younger girl. Her hands are balled into fists. "Yeh Shuhua."

"How many…?" Gahyeon whispers.

Yoobin shrugs. She doesn't have the energy to speak; she can't remember, either. One, two, zero. Doesn't matter. She's not going to make it.

"Nope, doesn't ring a bell," Shiang is saying. He lifts his gun, tilts his head, smiles. "Well, Yeh Shuhua, you have two options. I have no intention of killing you and there's nothing you can do short of throwing yourself in front of this gun that could kill you. You have two choices, then. Join me, and kill them and take part in the power that awaits me, or run to the police, and tell them that you saw Du Shiang at the dormitories, and you watched him kill two women, and he let you go and told you to do this, and then lead them to the bodies. It won't matter. They can't catch me, and I will have the power I deserve, and God will return, and these seven souls will have helped make a better world-"

Yoobin coughs; Gahyeon fires the gun; Shiang drops to his knees, presses a hand to his side. Gahyeon tilts her head up to her friend and smiles. "Did it," she sings, and Yoobin can't help but smile, too, even if it's pointless, even if she's going to die no matter what at this point.

Her mirth is short lived. The man's cool facade has been replaced with grotesque anger and hatred. "Oh, that's how it is," he hisses through gritted teeth. She gets the feeling that her last moments will not be pleasant.

"How's that taste?" Gahyeon says. Her eyes are half shut, but she still pushes herself upright. "Your own- medicine- Ow." She winces, sinks back down into Yoobin's lap.

Shiang sneers. "It will take more than that to kill me, won't it, Yoobin ?" But he doesn't stand up again; in fact, he's begun to crawl towards them, brandishing his own weapon as he does so. "You tried to shoot me, didn't you? You expected to kill me, didn't you? "

Yoobin wishes the black would just overtake her.

It does not obey. She feels fingers curl into her hoodie; she half opens her eyes, and Shiang is staring right at her, his eyes wide with something. She doesn't speak, just kind of groans. "Yes, that's what I thought," he says.

He knocks the gun against Gahyeon's skull with a crack. She slumps against Yoobin's legs. Yoobin hears the scrabble of footsteps against concrete - good, Shuhua's finally fled. She lets her eyes flutter shut. "Are you proud?" she whispers. "Of what you've done?"

Cold metal presses against the underside of her chin. "God is," Shiang says. "And that's all that matters."

A tired smile involuntarily creeps on her lips. "You're just a man," she says. "A fool, at that."

"Not for much longer," Shiang spits, and then he fires, and Yoobin, blissfully, feels nothing at all.

 

[ec.li.ps.e]

chapter 21: the end
Siyeon isn't sure what she was expecting from death, but this isn't it.

She stands in the middle of a void, surrounded by three of her closest friends and absolutely nothing else. On all sides stretches a colorless abyss - not black or white or gray or brown or anything, just nothing. No sound hits her ears; she only knows she's walking because of the ground beneath her feet - not that there is a ground beneath her feet. When she looks down, she sees nothing.

She walks off to the side, away from her friends who remain huddled in one spot, and stretches her hand out in front of her. Maybe she was expecting a land of clouds, like television shows her heaven is. An angelic choir, perhaps, or her bedroom from childhood, or a beautiful garden. Or perhaps fire and smoke that burns her noncorporeal throat and makes her regret every mistake she's ever made in her too short life. Or nothingness, but true nothingness, nothingness she wouldn't be aware of.

Instead, she's here, wherever here is. And she's still not entirely convinced that it isn't hell, no matter what that thing tries to tell her. She doesn't know what she'd have done to warrant this type of punishment, though. Cheat on an exam once or twice? Tell a lie?

Kill someone?

She looks at her hands. Vaguely, she remembers that feeling, the way the blade bit into Chinmae's throat, the way the life ebbed from his body and leached out into the ground. Murder would certainly warrant an eternal punishment, but is it murder if it was self defense?

She curls her hands into fists, drops them to her side. If there's one thing eternity is good for, it's thinking about philosophy.

You're not going to get anywhere, Yoohyeon says, from back where the others are. Believe me, I've tried. You just come out again on the other side.

The other girl tosses a glance over her shoulder. I know. I just can't sit still.

She watches Bora pop to her feet and run over to her. She's just as energetic in death as she was, well, before . Let's go nowhere together, then , she says. I need to move around some, too.

Aren't we already there? Siyeon asks, as Bora links their arms.

The smaller girl shrugs. Then we don't have far to go.

Despite Yoohyeon's words, Siyeon quickly realizes that the others are shrinking behind them. It feels, almost, like she and Bora are alone, except she knows she's not. It is always there; it could appear in front of them at any moment. She chooses to savor the silence for now.

Are you mad? Bora asks, once their friends disappear completely from view. She doesn't make eye contact.

Siyeon cocks an eyebrow. At? she asks. She stops walking.

Bora swings her leg back and forth childishly. Handong? Me? Everything? I dunno. You just seem tense.

I'm dead. What am I supposed to be? She sweeps her arm around and takes in nothing at all. This isn't heaven. At least, I hope it's not.

Bora smiles. Touche. Have you considered trying optimism? It might make things better. She peels away from Siyeon's side, looks over her shoulder. You missed it, earlier, but me and Handong and Yoohyeon, we threw it off its rhythm. Not for long, I don't think, but long enough. Course, we couldn't have done that if you hadn't killed that guy, whoever he was. But it's really shaken up because of us. She taps her chin. It makes me think that there's a way out.

Siyeon looks up, away from her friend. Handong said I'd be here anyway, cause that rat bastard killed me. I don't know if that counts.

I've been thinking , Bora says. She walks on ahead of Siyeon. I think Yoohyeon's got the same idea.

What? Siyeon asks, running to catch up.

Bora stops, wraps her arms around herself, shrugs. I don't know if I want to tell you. I mean, I don't think you can help anyway .

Siyeon narrows her eyes. What's that supposed to mean?

Don't worry about it.

She walks up next to her, puts her hand on Bora's shoulder. You better not be doing anything stupid , she says, and she means it, but she's not sure what she can do at this point.

Bora cocks an eyebrow and shrugs her off. Or what? You'll kill me? She smiles. Looks like someone beat you to it, Singnie.

Yeah. You. Siyeon stretches her hand out for the other girl's.

She obliges. Last time I checked, I counted as somebody, right?

What are you planning, Bora? Siyeon asks.

Bora smiles, pressing a finger to Siyeon's nose, and doesn't answer the question. "I, too, am very interested in this," it says - its voice echoes in Siyeon's ears, impossibly close and miles away all at the same time. "Care to explain, Bora?"

 

[ec.li.ps.e]

The smile drops from Bora's face. That would just ruin the surprise, she says, pressing her lips into a thin line. You'll find out, too .

"Oh, but, you see-" Siyeon feels fingernails dig into her shoulder; it looms over her side- "I've been growing terribly impatient. I would love to know what you're thinking."

You can't read her mind? Siyeon tilts her head over her shoulder, trying to find the entity that apparently hasn't chosen to show itself.

It makes a noise like it's clicking its tongue. "Alas, no," it says. "He didn't kill her, so she isn't mine. You, on the other hand, are. All of your secrets belong to me." What feels like a finger strokes her cheek; she shudders.

Gross, Bora says. I think you can wait a bit longer, right?

"You gain nothing from hiding it from me."

This is funny, I don't know what you’re talking about.

Siyeon wriggles herself away from its fingernails, or at least she tries to. She can still feel the claws digging into her skin. How long have you waited here? she asks, scratching at her shoulder. There is nothing there, and yet there is.

It sighs. “Far longer than your mortal brain can understand,” it says. “Far longer than I can even count.”

Bora nudges Siyeon’s side. Oh, then you can definitely wait a bit longer.

It links an invisible hand with Siyeon’s, on the other side. “True. It won’t be much longer, anyway.” And it laughs; her stomach feels suddenly cold.

I have another question. She tries to free her fingers, but they are stuck fast. What’s your name?

That just makes it laugh harder, and longer. “Oh, you mortals crack me up !” it says. “Now why would I give you my name? What use do you have for that?”

It’s inconvenient to keep referring to you as, well, it , Siyeon says. Why don’t you want to tell me?

It lets go, finally, of Siyeon’s hand, only to reform right in front of her. It smirks with Handong’s lips, squints two sets of eyes at her, cocks one of Yoohyeon’s eyebrows. “You know the rules, don’t you?” it says, reaching one of its hands up to touch Siyeon’s chin. “If I give you my name, I give you control.” It tilts the girl up to look at her - she is looking at her own face now, twisted into a cruel smile. “Perhaps I will let you know eventually, but for now-” it leans forward- “just remember this-” squeezes her cheek between two fingers- “you belong to me , Lee Siyeon.”

She stands there, frozen, a chill creeping its way down her spine, before her brain kicks in and she swipes at its torso. Her hands goes right through it as if it were nothing but thin air. Dammit , she hisses, and she curls her hand into her chest. Did you see that?

Bora’s backed up a few steps; confusion crosses her face. See what? You can see it? What does it look like? She comes forward, stretching her hands toward Siyeon.

Siyeon turns to look at it and finds herself staring at an identical twin of Bora, but just a bit too tall, with teeth a bit too sharp. She swallows, staggers backwards. You , she says. At least, now it does.

It smiles. “You may want to return to your companions. It’d be best if you were all present for what is about to come.”

And then it vanishes into thin air, and Siyeon shakes her head. I don’t like the sounds of that , she says.

Bora nods. Yeah, me neither. But- she touches Siyeon’s shoulder in an attempt at comfort- that’s gotta mean it’s almost over with, right?

Siyeon starts off in the direction she thinks she came in - not that it matters, if Yoohyeon’s to be believed. Yeah . She walks with purpose that she doesn’t actually feel. But I don’t know if that’s a good thing.

She spots three people where she left two. She quickens her pace.

Yoobin! Bora shouts, and she rushes past Siyeon and towards the newcomer. Oh, god dammit, now we’re all screwed. She throws herself at the younger girl. Siyeon’s shoulders slump. How did- Well, I mean, what happened?

Yoobin pats Bora’s back, wiggles her way free from her iron grip. Where’s Minji? she asks, craning her neck to look around the nothingness. Didn’t she…

Yoohyeon shakes her head. She’s sitting next to Handong, her knees curled into her chest. She’s not here yet. Why?

Yoobin’s eyes widen. No, no, no, no . She curls into herself. She got in a car crash. The car crumpled. Gahyeon and I watched it. There’s no way she could have survived that, no way, no way. Shakes her head, squeezes her eyes shut.

Then maybe she’ll survive! Yoohyeon sits upright, nudging Handong’s head off of her shoulder. Maybe she can make her way out and- and find him and kill him and end this for all.

Yoobin laughs drily. She’s not gonna kill someone. I don’t think she could do it if she tried . If she manages to survive, she’ll probably run to the police. I hope she does, at this point.

“She won’t,” it says, looping an arm around her shoulders. “Two more to go.”

What-

Long story , Handong mumbles. She isn’t making eye contact with anyone, just staring at the ground that isn’t there. Siyeon can easily imagine why. She should go over, comfort her.

She doesn’t. She looks instead at it, folds her arms over her chest. Its face mirrors Yoobin’s now, then Handong’s, then her own. Siyeon doubts she’ll ever get used to that.

“Cheer up, Yoobin,” it says. “It’s almost over now. You should have expected this. After all, fate demanded it. It was pointless to run.”

Yoobin sets her jaw and tries to break free, but Siyeon knows that it’s futile already. I don’t believe in fate , she says, staring at Siyeon as she does so.

It smiles, all sharp teeth and saliva. “Correction. Didn’t. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t real.” It jabs one of its fingers into her cheek. “After all, I’m not supposed to exist and here we are. You’ve supposed to cease existing and here you are. Oh, sure-” waves its hand airily- “you could try to rationalize this as hallucinations of a dying brain or whatever you logical mortals try to say when faced with something beyond the scope of your limited comprehension. But here is a fun fact, Lee Yoobin. Just because you may not believe that something is happening, it does not change that it is happening.”

Yoobin’s face is a cool, impossible to read mask. Siyeon tears her gaze away, crosses in front of Handong and Yoohyeon to stand by them. Who are you? Yoobin asks.

"No one," it says, with the measured tone of someone who's said this a million times before, " yet . But with your help, perhaps I'll be something soon." It lets go of Yoobin and skitters off to the side. "One more to go."

 

[ec.li.ps.e]

Siyeon snaps her head to the side and sees who is unmistakably Gahyeon, just with a chunk missing from her head, and blood trickling down her cheek. Her eyes are glassy; then, they focus, and her head seals itself up, bit by bit. Where am I? she asks. Why does my head hurt?

Minji's still alive? Yoohyeon squeaks.

It laughs. "Not for long. Don't get your hopes up." Its face has split into a massive smile. "But this could be better for you in the end, you know?"

Yoobin shakes her head. We're dead, she says. What could possibly be better?

Seven , Siyeon says suddenly. She's remembering something, from before she died. Chinmae told us that there were seven of us . She tilts her head up, squinting. Seven must be important, then.

It swivels its head around, nods, grins widely. It looks like Yoobin now. "Correct. My, aren't you a smart one. What a shame that you're already under my control. You'd make a fantastic partner in contract, but this will have to do."

Gahyeon looks wildly around the space, her gaze flicking from each of their souls to the devil standing now just off to the side of the group. What do you mean? What's going on? She creeps forward, curls her hands into her chest. I died, right? Last thing I remember, he knocked me out, and then... Touches a hand to her head, where the wound had been a mere moment before. And now I'm here, and all of you are, except Minji…

Siyeon looks at Handong, who isn't moving. I'm so sorry , she says, and she wraps her legs around her knees. Yoobin, Gahyeon, this is all my fault, and I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't know what I was doing.

The younger girl widens her eyes. Huh? What are you talking about? She rushes forward and crouches in front of the other girl. What do you mean it's all your fault? She puts her hand on Handong's shoulder, puts another hand on her cheek. Almost imperceptibly, Handong flinches away.

Siyeon looks away - Bora has crossed over from the other side and set her hand on her shoulder, and they exchange a quick glance. I'm so tired of this , Bora says.

So am I , Yoohyeon says. Well?

Handong sighs, dropping her gaze to her knees. Look, I was foolish, okay? I had just died, and then- it- she waves her hand towards the devil smiling plaintively at the group- tricked me, and told me I'd see my friends again, and now we're all dead and gone and here , wherever here is.

Gahyeon softens, drops in front of her, shakes her head. Oh, god, Handong , she says. You really did that, huh?

Handong laughs drily. She shrugs. I was desperate , she says. And I didn't want to believe that I was dead, I guess. And then I brought you all here by accident. Squeezes her eyes shut. I'm so sorry. I really am.

What did you think was going to happen? Yoobin asks. She's the only one standing by herself, with her eyes trained on the devil. It's… A demon, I guess. They're masters of trickery, like genies are.

"Not demon," it says, lifting a finger. "Devil. There is a difference, however subtle."

Handong says nothing, just curls deeper into herself. Gahyeon wraps her arms around her shoulders. Well, we're waiting on one, right? she says. And then… It's over, right?

Yeah, and we're all dead, Bora says. For various reasons. She throws her hands in the air. Guess we're just stuck here till we get sick of each other then, and then some.

She drops so she's sitting next to Siyeon and puts her head on her shoulder. It just rolls its eyes (currently Yoohyeon's). "I'm sure you can be more creative than that . You mortals never cease to amaze me." It trails off into a hum.

Siyeon curls her fingers into fists, stares at them. She had previously thought that she was not capable of hatred; the past few weeks have changed that. Now, as she looks at the devil currently wearing some combination of all of their faces, she realizes that she hates this thing more than even him . It winks at her - "Come now. Hate's a strong word, isn't it?" it says - she looks away again.

I'm dead because of you , she says.

Suddenly, it's leaning over her, a hand pressing into the top of her head. "If you want to play that game, you're dead because of her ," it whispers; it jerks her head so she's looking at Handong. "I am simply the messenger."

Fuck off , Gahyeon says. She's angrier now than she was upon their last interaction, and she's glaring at it - she can see it too, Siyeon realizes. You can't blame her.

It startles for a second, all four eyes widening in at the very least mild bemusement, before tilting its lips into a smile. "How naive," it says. "I will say it again - you mortals never cease to amaze me."

It turns around and vanishes, but Siyeon can feel its presence, heavy and cold. It's still here. It never leaves. This is its domain. They will never be free.

It's fine, Gahyeon , Handong is saying. It's my fault. I'm the one who said anything in the first place and it's okay-

The younger girl shakes her head. No. It's not okay.

Are you okay? Yoohyeon asks, reaching her hand out towards her friend.

Of course not! I'm dead! How are you all dealing with this? Oh, God… Gahyeon presses her hands to her face.

Yoohyeon sighs. You get used to it eventually, I guess.

"Cheer up," it says. "It's over now, anyway."

Siyeon looks over in the direction that the others came from - where there was nothing before now stands an almost relieved looking Minji, with hands pressed to her chest and eyes wide. She looks over at her friends; the blood trickling down her lips evaporates into thin air. H-Hey! she says, and she rushes over. You're- You're all here! That's incredible.

Minji! Yoohyeon cries. You- Oh, no, you're dead, too. She isn't even cut off by the older girl throwing herself at her, and then she's being wrapped - along with Siyeon and a very uncomfortable looking Handong - in a hug that would be so tight it would hurt under normal circumstances.

But these aren't normal circumstances. So, what killed you? Siyeon finds herself asking, patting Minji's shoulder. She isn't sure she wants to know, but she asks anyway, just out of curiosity.

Minji sighs. It's a long story , she says. The brake line of the car got cut, and then I couldn't get out, and it just… Crashed. But that didn't kill me right away, because that would be too easy. I just… Sat there for a while, and I remember… I remember… She trails off, lifts her hands, clenches her fingers one by one into a tight fist. And then I couldn't breathe. And then everything went dark, and now I'm here. Wherever here is. Speaking of which- drops her hand and looks around- where is here? We are dead, right?

Yoohyeon winces. Yeah, we sure are.

"Congratulations, Handong," it says. "We've completed your contract. You have your friends again. How do you feel?" It swoops over, looms behind them; its fingers tap-tap-tap on her shoulders. Siyeon inches away from it.

 

[ec.li.ps.e]

What was that? Minji asks. She flinches backwards. It sounds like me.

Handong says nothing, just curls tighter into herself. It laughs. "Worry not, Kim Minji. Think of me as a friend, or perhaps a tool." Crouches down tighter, squeezes the girl's cheeks. "I'm why you're here today - I brought you here, to fulfill Handong's desire to see her friends again ." Laughs. "I helped her, as I can help you, Kim Minji. Or you, Kim Yoohyeon. Or even you , Kim Bora. I've helped many of your kind. What is it you want most?"

You're the devil , Gahyeon says. That's what you are.

A devil , Yoohyeon corrects, while it says, "Soon to be."

Minji's face twists into a frown. Lemme get this straight. Handong gave her soul to you in exchange for seeing us again.

"Her soul was already mine because of the contract between myself and Shiang," it says. "That was the deal - anything he killed would come to me, and in exchange I'd protect him and give him the power he desired." It sighs. "But he was a fool. He believed he had a choice, an easy way out, but what men fail to realize is that there are no shortcuts to power. One must suffer to get what they truly want." It peels itself away from Handong, strolls casually around the group, towards Yoobin. "It's a lesson that I failed to learn for quite some time. It's why I - and by extension, all of you are here, now." Holds its hand out towards her, smiles widely - sharp teeth and saliva, sharp teeth and saliva. "Your death was a mistake, Handong. He was supposed to kill Chinmae , his friend, his partner in crime. He was supposed to suffer . And instead, he opted for the easy way out and killed you, someone who barely counts anymore as a friend ." It shakes its head. "Thus, he broke the contract, and now gave you a chance, and now your contract has been fulfilled, and we are back to square one again."

Siyeon stares at it and its flexing fingers. Yoobin meets its gaze, steadily. Her expression is impossible to read. Siyeon wonders how she can maintain that coolness. What does a contract mean? Bora asks suddenly, shooting her hand up in the air.

Siyeon jumps, grabs her wrist. What are you thinking ? she asks. Are you crazy?

Siyeon, let go , Bora says. I have an idea.

Siyeon just stares at her, eyes wide. Wait, me too! Yoohyeon says. She pushes herself to her feet. What do I have to do? You told me that you couldn't make a deal with me then , but what about now ? Since you don't have any other contracts to deal with? She cocks her head to one side, narrows her eyes.

It turns away from Yoobin and claps two of its suddenly several hands. "I love the enthusiasm," it says. "One at a time, please. You first, Kim Yoohyeon, since you were so eager last time."

Siyeon looks between Yoohyeon and Bora, then drops her gaze to Handong, who stares back in panic. Don't! It's a trap , she says, but Yoohyeon doesn't appear to be listening.

She juts her chin out. I want to come back to life, she says. Can you do that for me?

It smiles. "It's quite easy to bring one person back to life. Is that what you wish, Yoohyeon?"

No, no, no, wait. She waves her hands. Not just me. All of us. Sweeps her arm around, in a gesture that captures all seven of them. Back to life. Want their names, too?

Siyeon watches the smile fall from its face. "Perhaps I spoke a bit too soon. I could bring you back, Yoohyeon. I could bring Siyeon or Gahyeon or Handong back as well. But Bora, Minji, they'd be left here, all alone. Is that good enough?"

Then take my soul, too , Bora says. And take me with them. I don't care, I'm not gonna use it.

You're insane , Siyeon whispers.

No, I'm angry. There's a difference.

Yoohyeon turns to Minji. Are you joining us? she asks. This might be our only chance-

Minji stands up, lifting her hand. Hang on , she says. What's the catch? She cocks an eyebrow.

It looks surprised at that; four eyes widen just a bit . "Why, what do you mean? What catch?"

She folds her arms. There's always a catch in a deal with the devil, she says.

A devil , Yoohyeon corrects.

The supernatural.

Its lips purse. "I see," it says. Smiles wider, wider, wider - so many teeth. "I underestimated you. It's always more fun with the smart ones."

Minji screws up her face in a sort of grimace. Thank you, I think. I don't know how to feel about that. Now answer the question.

It takes its sweet time; Siyeon watches it saunter around, tapping its chin with one of its many hands. "The catch," it finally, finally says, "is that you will be more or less under my… Guidance , shall we say. Much like he - and countless others before him - were. After all, your soul will belong to me." It flourishes its hand around - she realizes the futility of these gestures, since none of its target audience can actually see it - and grins. "Of course you will be in control of your body, but I will always be there. And sometimes I will ask you to do things, and you have no choice but to do them, or else you will end up right back here." It comes to a halt right next to Siyeon and beams down at her; its smile has overtaken its face. "And I am not one for second chances."

That sentence feels like a threat.

And what will those things be? Minji asks. She sounds like she's seriously considering it. Siyeon wonders when she became surrounded by madwomen. And will they have consequences?

It shrugs. "Whatever I feel like at the time. Perhaps you tell someone about me, or write a book. Perhaps you kill, or rob, or cheat. It entirely depends upon my mood and my needs. You will find out in time." It cracks each knuckle, one by one by one. "What are you afraid of, Kim Minji? Afraid of getting caught? Spending your life in jail?"

The woman falters. I had dreams, you know, she says. Before I died. I want to return to those.

It shakes its head. "Nothing will interfere with your desires," it says. "I can promise you that."

Handong makes a noise somewhat between a cry and a moan. Gahyeon pats her on the shoulders.

"What do you say, Kim Minji, Kim Yoohyeon, Kim Bora?" It stretches out its hands, three of them, to shake. "Do you give me your souls in exchange for all of your lives back?"

Siyeon squeezes her eyes shut.

I'm in, Bora says.

Me too, says Yoohyeon.

We have no other choice, do we? Minji asks.

Bright white light - actually white, stark and painful compared to the void she's grown accustomed to - flashes against Siyeon's eyelids, and she can barely open her eyes. When she does, she sees three woman shaking three hands and glowing, glowing, glowing.

The light disappears, just like that, and it stands there, taller than all of them, black and faceless, and grins a smile that drips and oozes, and it says, "A pleasure doing business with you . "

And then Siyeon realizes she is falling. They all are - she looks around and watches, six bodies, just like hers, falling, falling, falling into the void all around them…

 

[ec.li.ps.e]

epilogue
Handong sits straight up in bed.

For a brief moment, she panics, looking wildly around the room that she’s sitting in. She can’t remember where she is, doesn’t know how she got there. The last thing she remembers when she closes her eyes is… nothing. No black, no white, just nothing.

On the other side of the room, Gahyeon snores, and Handong sinks back into the bed. Nightmare. She must have had a nightmare. Unsurprising - last night was remarkably stressful. Her phone is lying face down next to her, right besides her pillow. It’s finally, finally quiet.

She sighs, throws her hand over her forehead. Right. It’s slowly coming back to her now - Gahyeon had been drugged, and they had gone to the gas station, and she had run into her old friend, and he had not stopped texting her for hours, until she must have just passed out from exhaustion. She yawns. No wonder she’d had a nightmare; she’s rather rone to stress dreams, after all.

Habitually, she checks her phone - four new texts. Three are from him; the other is from her father. She blinks, bleary eyed, at the photo of her cat he sent her and the caption that reads Can’t wait to see you again! with the baby face emoji. It’s almost enough to bring a smile to her face.

Almost. [ I’ll see you today, okay? I can’t wait to show you. You’ll love it. ]

She drops her phone back on the pillow and yawns again. It’s useless to try and go back to sleep. Might as well start her day. She needs to get her stuff together before the flight, anyway. She rolls out of bed, rubs her sleep-crusted eyes. Cold shower. She needs a nice, cold shower.

She changes into her bathrobe and walks towards the bathroom. There’s no one else there, no noise from anywhere. She must be the first one awake. Naturally. She hasn’t had the best of nights, so why should she have the best of mornings?

As she twists the handle to turn on the water, she feels a cold hand trailing down her back.

She jumps, snaps her head around, staggers backward on the cool tile.

There is no one there, nobody else in the bathroom, and yet there’s someone touching her shoulder and guiding her towards the shower stall. She covers her chest, swallows. “Who’s there?” she asks. “Hello?”

She doesn’t get a response. Of course she doesn’t. There’s no one in here. She should just take her shower and not worry about it.

She steps into the shower and lets the cool water wash over her.

There’s nothing wrong. Everything will be fine. Just go through your day like normal, and everything will be fine .

She squirts some coconut shampoo onto her hands. Yeah, right. Everything will be just fine. She’s just unsettled from her nightmare.

She takes a deep breath and starts to sing quietly. Deep breaths. Calm down. It’ll be okay. It’ll be fine.

The peace of the shower is interrupted by someone clearing their throat. That’s all it takes for the panic to start again; Handong grabs the handle and has to bite back a scream. “It’s just me!” says Yoobin. “Relax."

She sighs, then breaks into a relieved laugh. "Oh, Yoobin- Oh, my god." She pokes her head out of the shower and covers her mouth with her hands. "My god, you scared me."

Yoobin startles, flinches, shakes her head slowly. "I thought you were asleep," she says. "Sorry, I'll let you… Clean up." She's already on her way out the door.

Handong pulls her head back into the shower and takes a deep breath. "It's alright," she says, combing her fingers through her hair. "You can't see anything anyway." Pause, deep breath - why does she feel like this has happened before? "Sorry, I'll hurry up."

"Take your time!" Yoobin calls. The door clicks shut again.

Handong eases her way out of the shower stall, covering her chest with her hands, and picks up her bathrobe. She's definitely done this before.

That's silly. Of course she's done this before. She takes a shower every other morning.

She pulls her bathrobe on, ties it around her waist.

I should talk to Yoobin.

She pushes her way out of the bathroom, counting her breaths. Plastic crinkles in the common room; Yoobin's picking up some trash, putting it in a plastic bag. Handong walks out down the hallway, whistles. "Jesus. We really left a disaster, didn't we?"

The younger girl jumps, shrugs, picks up a pair of plastic forks. "You expected anything else?" she says, a half smile creeping onto her face.

Handong laughs and rolls her eyes. "Not particularly." She leans forward to help, but only gets her hand swatted away.

"I got this," Yoobin says, tilting her head toward the couch - which is remarkably crumb free, all things considered. "Why don't you go sit down?"

Handong sighs. "Jesus, Yoobin." She rubs her hand with her face. "Don't be stubborn."

"You look like you need the rest." Yoobin sidesteps and bumps her towards the couch. "I'm amazed you're even awake right now."

Handong sighs, but reluctantly obeys, stretching out on the couch. "Sorry, I just… Couldn't sleep." Leans on her hand, plays with the edge of her bathrobe. "I had too much going on…"

"Yes, I can imagine," Yoobin muses. She picks up a plastic bowl, jams it in the bag - it snaps. The crack rings through the silence and in Handong ears. "Of course, I don't think I know all the details. But you don't need to talk now if you're uncomfortable."

We've had this conversation before.

Handong stares at Yoobin, studying the other's face, and searches for something. If she feels it, too, she's not showing it. Handong screws her face up and tears her gaze towards the black TV screen. "Actually, I would like to ask for advice."

She waits for Yoobin to acknowledge her before continuing. "Okay." Sighs. "If…" Looks at her nails. "If... Well, okay. Say you ran into your best friend from high school again."

Yoobin nods. "I wouldn't want to, but go on."

"Yes, I understand." Handong laughs, a reflexive chuckle. "Say you did, though." She sits up, curls her fingers into her knees. "And you were so excited to talk to them again. And like, they were so successful, and they were achieving their dreams, and you were so, so happy for them." Pauses, sighs. "But… But it just. Something's wrong. Does that make sense?" She shakes her head.

"I see." Yoobin tosses the bag into the trash can and comes to sit down next to Handong, balling her hoodie up and setting it in her lap. "That's what happened?"

Handong nods."Basically. I got his number, or rather, he gave me his number without me asking. He seems determined to get us to hang out today, before my flight. It took most of last night to tell him off. And that's just weird, right? Like I'm not overreacting?" She looks away. "I mean, sure, it's been a couple of years, but I'm only going to be gone for two weeks. And yet, he was talking like he was going to die tomorrow. That's how intense this was." She shifts back and forth. "I'm worried, just a bit."

Yoobin has a faraway look in her eyes. "Maybe he is ," she says. "There's always a chance."

Handong fidgets. "What do you mean?" she asks. "I mean, yeah. He could get hit by a car or something." She shakes her head. "Why did you… Never mind."

"Forget that. I… Don't know why I said that." Yoobin sighs. "I just, well, you know what I mean."

Handong does, and she doesn't, at the same time. "Yeah, I guess," she mumbles. "What do you think I should do?" Tilts her head, runs the tie of the bathrobe between her fingers. "Don't get me wrong, I want to talk to him again, just not like this."

Yoobin cocks an eyebrow. "When's your flight?" she asks.

"Nine PM."

She leans forward and starts to get up. "Just tell him that you're busy today, no matter what he might say." She walks over towards the hall again. "You will be, anyway, so you're not lying."

Handong shakes her head. "It's not that easy." Leans her head on her hand. "He's insistent. The only reason he's not texting me now is because he's asleep." Picks at her bathrobe, closes her eyes. "I'm almost scared to leave the house today."

She laughs, and Yoobin laughs too, and there's nothing funny about what she said at all. "Then don't," Yoobin says. She tucks her hoodie under her arm, combs her fingers through her hair. "Or at least, don't go alone. I wouldn't mind driving you anywhere."

Handong nods. "Actually, I may take you up on that," she says. "I need a spare charger. And I wouldn't mind a proper breakfast after last night's… Feast ." Her lips quirk in a smile.

"Shit," Yoobin says. "I'm down. Let me go clean up, at least. You need to rest." She points at the girl. "You need to take it easy."

Handong nods and leans back on her hand. "You don't gotta tell me twice," she starts to say, but she's cut off by the appearance of a rather disheveled looking Yoohyeon scrabbling her way down the hallway. She watches the girl careen her way past Yoobin, stumble over her own feet, and slam into the kitchen. "Good morning?" she offers, peering over to watch Yoohyeon throw the cabinet open.

"I forgot I had a paper due last night-" coffee mug hits the countertop- "can't talk-" coffee being poured into the mug- "panicking!" Cabinet swings shut, revealing Yoohyeon's screwed up face as she chugs a bitter slug of straight black coffee. "Oh, fuck , that's awful."

Handong covers her mouth with her hand. "Oh my god, Yoohyeon."

 

[ec.li.ps.e]

Minji wakes up at the bright and early hour of noon-thirty, which is still too early for her. She rolls over in her blanket, buries herself deeper into her mattress, and finds herself making eye contact with her roommate in the other bed. Their thoughts seem to be the same. “Morning,” she mumbles, with a sleepy little wave.

Siyeon says nothing, just sort of grunts and wiggles onto her back. Minji smiles, yawns. “Same,” she says, rubbing her eyes. “Same.”

“I feel like I just ran a marathon or something,” her roommate says, her hand pressed against her forehead. “That was the least restful sleep I think I’ve ever had, and that counts the finals week I just don’t remember at all.”

Minji laughs. “Caffeine induced amnesia, a blessing and a curse.” She tugs the blanket around her shoulders. “What’d you dream about? Sometimes a really active dream makes me feel less… Well, rested.”

Siyeon sort of shrugs. “I… Don’t remember,” she says. “Much, at least. I remember nothing, and then I was just falling in that nothing, and then… Nothing.” She punctuates her speech with vague gestures. “That doesn’t make any sense at all. Let me try again-”

“No, no,” Minji says, propping herself up on her elbow. “I got it. I think-” she yawns, combs her fingers through her hair- “I dreamt something similar. The nothingness, and the falling.” She blinks, trying to piece together what she can remember from her dream. “I feel like something happened before that, but I can’t remember what.”

Siyeon just stares at her. “That’s strange,” she says, after a very, very long pause. “That we had the same dream.”

Minji shrugs and pushes the blanket officially off of her. “Eh, it might just be stress. Last night wasn’t easy, to say the least.” She stretches; most of her joints snap, crackle, and pop. “But hey. We can’t change anything. Just gotta keep going.” She slides out of bed and leans from side to side.

“Your dad’s a police officer, right?” Siyeon asks, tracking her with her eyes. “Couldn’t you talk to him about investigating the drugging?”

Minji tilts her head. “That would be a good idea,” she says. She taps her chin with her finger, then shakes her head. “But we won’t have to. Handong’s going to take care of it.” She walks towards her dresser and starts pulling out clothing.

She tosses a t-shirt over her shoulder, hums to herself. “Handong’s gonna take care of what ?” Siyeon asks.

Minji turns around, like it’s obvious what she’s talking about, because it is. Handong’s going to take care of it. She waves her hand. “You know. The incident.”

“How do you know?”

She turns back around and fishes for a pair of jeans. “I don’t know, actually,” she says, more to herself than Siyeon. “I mean, I know, but I don’t know how I know, or why, or what it means …” She trails off, snags a pair of lilac socks, sighs.

“You’re not making sense,” Siyeon says. She folds her arms. “Are you okay, Minji?”

The older girl nods. “Oh, yes, of course!” she chirps. “Just… Tired, is all. I’m still waking up. And I’m hungry.” She smiles, pats her stomach.

Siyeon rolls her eyes, playfully. “Like that’s a surprise,” she says. “Let’s get dressed, so we can eat.” She kicks herself free from the blanket.

“Maybe we could make something together,” Minji says, heading for the door. She grabs the handle and pulls it open. “For all of us. Like, as a treat.”

Siyeon wrinkles her nose. “Oh, god, no. You know I suck at cooking.”

Minji lifts one of her shoulders in a half shrug. “We’ll just make pasta, or something easy like that. Not even you can screw that up, hm?”

She skips out into the hallway just as Siyeon says, “You’d be surprised, Minji.” And she laughs.

Bora’s in the bathroom, splashing water on her face, when Minji enters. “Good morning,” she chirps, with more energy than she feels. “You look dead.”

“My stomach hurts,” Bora says. “Couldn’t sleep because of it.”

Minji smiles. “Yeah, me neither,” she says. “I had a pretty strange dream, too.” She walks around, pulls out her toothbrush. “Me and Siyeon are going to make some brunch. You wanna help?”

Bora laughs. “You’re asking me to help you cook? Maybe you need more sleep.” She pats her cheeks dry with a paper towel. “What’d you dream about? Because I had a… Weird dream, too.”

Minji cocks an eyebrow, her toothbrush already in her mouth. “Mm?”

The other girl nods. “It was like I was falling. You know, when you’re about to fall asleep and then suddenly you feel like you’re falling, and then you jolt awake again? Like that. But I couldn’t wake up. I was just falling, and I wasn’t anywhere. But I couldn’t wake up, no matter what I did.” She quirks her lips into a smile. “I blame the barbecue chips for that one.”

Minji coughs, spitting her toothpaste into the sink and over the mirror. Bora flinches away. “Gross, dude.”

“No, no,” Minji says, wiping her mouth. “Sorry, I just- I had the same dream. And so did Siyeon.”

Bora lifts her eyebrows. “What? That’s crazy. Must have been something in the ramen. Or maybe we’ve all just spontaneously gone crazy. Or maybe…” Her face falls, and she suddenly sounds very serious. “Maybe it’s a god.”

Like a rubber band snapping back to its shape, her smile snaps right back into her face. “Anyway, I’ll have to pass. Because I have got to talk to Yoobin, about… You know.” She turns and heads for the doorway.

“Hang on!” Minji calls, her toothbrush half in her mouth. “What do you mean, maybe it’s a god?”

Bora tilts her head. “What do you mean?”

“You said, maybe it’s a god, about the dream.”

She narrows her eyes. “I did ?” she asks. “That’s… Weird. I don’t remember saying that. Huh.” Her voice hikes an octave. “Alright, cool! That was really fucking weird! I’m gonna go get changed now.”

Before Minji can say anything, she disappears, and Minji is alone in the bathroom. She chooses not to think too hard about it, just for her own sake.

She walks out of the bathroom, dressed and ready for the day, and heads for the kitchen. Handong is curled up on the couch, watching television with a bored look on her face. Siyeon is already standing in front of an open fridge. She picks up a jar of sauce. "We have… This?" she says, holding it up. "I guess we can start with this."

"Sounds like a plan," Minji says, swinging around the door.

Siyeon laughs. "It really doesn't," she says. "Oh, vegetables. We can throw these in, I think?" She picks up a plastic bag of baby carrots, drops them on the counter. "Uh…"

They start working together, pulling together various food items and utensils in their attempt at spaghetti. It's an interesting looking meal, at that. Siyeon pours some sauce into a little pot and stirs it. Minji hums and starts cutting up the carrots.

It's nice. It's normal. It feels good, compared to the chaos of the night before.

She wonders if she should mention Bora's dream.

"Good morning, Gahyeon," Handong says from the kitchen. "How's your stomach?"

Gahyeon grumbles. "Don't ask. I'm so hungry. How'd you sleep?"

Handong laughs. "I didn't. Not for long, at least. I had a weird dream, though."

Minji drops the knife.

"Are you alright?" Siyeon asks, picking up her spoon. "You look- Oh, shit- "

She's cut off by the sauce in the pot exploding , sending tomato sauce everywhere. Both girls screech, and Minji laughs so hard that she can't stand up straight. "Wh-What the hell was that ?" Siyeon asks, tugging at her once white shirt. "I didn't know it could do that…?" She wipes at a stain, which only succeeds in making it significantly worse. "Oh, no, oh, no."

 

[ec.li.ps.e]

Minji giggles, reaches a shaking hand towards the stove, and turns the temperature down. "Okay, maybe that was too hot," she says. "Oh, god."

"What are you doing?" Yoobin asks. Minji opens her mouth to answer, but realizes that she's talking to the girls in the common room.

"Making myself useful," Gahyeon says.

"So she says," Handong says.

Siyeon stirs the pot and sighs. "This better taste good," she mutters. "I am suffering for this."

Minji nudges her side, sending Siyeon staggering off - and more sauce flying. "I'm sure it'll taste delicious. We'll make the others clean it up, if they're eating it."

Siyeon nods. "That is a fantastic idea."

Minji walks back around behind Siyeon and waves. "Want to help?" she calls to Yoobin, who's holding an old coffee up and sighing.

Yoobin comes back around, squints. "What're you doing?" she asks, scrutinizing the disaster that she's stumbled upon.

"Making a mess," Siyeon says. She heaves a sigh.

Minji picks up the spoon and stirs the happily bubbling sauce. "It was supposed to be pasta," she says. "It's kind of just... Food now."

Yoobin inches past them and dumps the coffee in the sink. "It sure smells like food," she says, rinsing the cup out and placing it on the drying rack. "What do you need?"

"A test dummy?" Siyeon asks. She turns the stove off. Her sleeve trails into the sauce, again. "Dammit!"

That's it. Minji breaks completely. She covers her mouth to keep from laughing; more sauce splatters, and now they're both covered, and she's laughing even harder . "Oh, no ," she wails, smacking Siyeon's shoulder.

"This was such a nice shirt," Siyeon says. She makes a noise between a laugh and a cry. Yoobin tries futilely to wipe the stain off, which only makes it worse.

Minji shrugs. "It's a cooking shirt now!"

Siyeon glares at her, but good-naturedly. "We barely have any brunch now," she mutters, pulling the pot away from Minji.

"We can just eat your shirt," Minji says, and she grins and wipes her face. It does absolutely nothing. "Jesus, this is a disaster."

Yoobin smiles, softly. "Hurricane Spaghetti," she says. "On the bright side, we have bleach somewhere ."

Siyeon nods. "There's enough for three people," she says. Minji passes her some bowls, and she starts scooping some into the first bowl. "Here's for you, Yoobin." She passes one across to the other girl. "And-"

"Oh, actually," Yoobin shakes her head, "Handong and I are going to go out. You don't have to worry about us."

Siyeon tilts her head. "Oh, okay then," she says. "That's fine. So, maybe we can give some to Yoohyeon or- oh, hi, Bora."

Bora lifts her eyebrows and looks around in shock. "What are you doing ?" she asks. "My god, it looks like something exploded ."

"Want some?" Siyeon asks.

Bora wrinkles her nose. "What is it?"

Minji swirls her bowl. "It's supposed to be pasta."

"I think I'm good for now," Bora says. "But you can save me some." She turns to Yoobin, taps her shoulder. "Hey, Yoobin-ah, we're out of cinnamon ."

Minji and Siyeon make eye contact.

This has happened before.

"Ah, are we?" Yoobin says.

Bora nods, stuffs her hands in her pockets. "Yeah. Think we could head out and get some, like, now, maybe?"

Minji busies herself with scooping more brunch into her own bowl, but the more she looks at it, the least hungry she feels. "Handong and I were just about to go out," Yoobin says.

"Wait!" Handong calls from the common area, and then she's in the kitchen, too, and everything feels too claustrophobic. "If this is about, you know, I wouldn't mind going, too. I have some questions as well. If you're okay with it, of course?"

Bora nods. "Oh, sure, sure. So, shall we go, then?"

Yoobin's already heading out the door. "Sure. I'll drive."

Minji waits for them all to be out of earshot before she whistles. "Haven't heard that in a while," she whispers.

Siyeon looks at her, tilts her head. "Are you sure? I could've sworn it was just yesterday."

"No, it was a couple of months ago," Minji says, but she's not sure, and it could have been yesterday, but it definitely wasn't. "Intervention on Yoohyeon's grades. Remember?"

Siyeon looks at the doorway, sighs, shrugs, shakes her head. "Right. I don't know what I'm talking about. Everything just blurs together, I guess- You're bleeding." She points at Minji's hand; Minji looks down at her hand. Sure enough, there's a thin cut on her palm, slowly oozing blood. Her breath catches in her throat.

"So- When did that happen?" she breathes, looking at Siyeon hopelessly. "It- It must have been when I dropped the knife, but, that's…"

She touches the wound. It's real blood, it's a real cut - there's a stain on her fingertips now. "You didn't notice…?" Siyeon says. "Doesn't it hurt?"

Minji shakes her head slowly. "I don't feel anything at all," she says.

 

[ec.li.ps.e]

Yoobin in the front seat, Bora in the passenger, Handong perched in the middle seat on the back. Yoobin clicks her seatbelt in, takes a deep breath. "It's the gun," she says. "You want to know about the gun."

"Um, yes, obviously," Bora says. "I was… You were expecting that, huh?"

She shrugs. "Not much else you'd want to talk about, I guess." She spins the wheel. "Where do you want to go, Handong?"

Handong leans forward. "I need a charging cord first of all. I guess we can start there. There's a nice food stand right by the corner shop, too."

Bora nods. "Yes, right. Love that place. But first…" She trails off, taps the glove compartment.

Yoobin takes a deep breath. "It wasn't my idea," she says. "My mom, last break…"

And she explains everything, beginning to end, starting with her father and ending with the news. It feels nice, to open up and explain everything.

It also feels like she's done this before, but she has no idea how that is possible. She hasn't gone to therapy - hasn't had the money. She's never told anyone, except for Minji and Siyeon, even half of it. And Gahyeon is not in the car.

But what does Gahyeon have to do with it? She'd never tell Gahyeon. The younger girl's too sensitive, too soft. Yoobin can picture her face when she hears. That's why she's keeping it in so long; she can't bear the thought of the others hurting for her.

"And it's because of that, that resemblance that I guess I have," she finishes, turning into the convenience store parking lot, "that I was given the gun in the first place. I didn't want it. I want to end this cycle my mom thinks we're trapped in. We're not. She just thinks so."

Handong shakes her head. "Maybe you are," she says quietly.

Yoobin looks at her. "What do you mean?" she asks, wary, concerned.

"Is it just me, or is everyone acting weird today?" Bora says.

Handong unbuckles her seatbelt. "I'm sure it'll be fine!"

Yoobin shakes her head slowly, gets out of the car. "Wait for me!" Bora calls.

They walk across the parking lot, towards the convenience store. The sky has gone gray and overcast. Yoobin wonders if it's going to rain. Probably.

Once they get inside the tiny store, they split up and go their separate ways. Yoobin heads towards the back, where the cases of drinks are. She looks around, scanning the racks for something that catches her eye, before she selects a cold brew coffee.

Bora comes besides her and nudges her side. "Look," she says, tilting her head towards the hot coffee machine where Handong is. "That's the guy we ran into last night, Handong's friend."

Yoobin narrows her eyes at him. He's tall, and his eyes are crinkled into a smile, and he's talking in rapid Chinese. "That's the guy Handong told me was blowing up his phone," she says.

"Officer Shiang," Bora says. She picks up a lemonade from the case.

They look at each other, make eye contact.

"We should…" Yoobin whispers, starting to move towards her friend and Shiang.

"Mhm," Bora says. They come up behind him. She taps him on the shoulder. "Good morning, officer!" Her voice is cheerful, high-pitched. Forced.

Shiang turns around in surprise. "Ah, good morning, uh, miss," he says, in stilted Korean. "You're Handong's friend, Bora, correct?" He slides his gaze to Yoobin. "And you must be…"

"Lee Yoobin," Yoobin says, cool and crisp. She nods her head in a bow. "Interesting to see you here."

Shiang nods. His smile has yet to fade from his face. "One could consider it fate. You know, I've been meaning to show you something." He turns back to Handong, puts his hand up.

Handong lifts her eyebrows. "Oh, yes, I think I know," she says. She lifts her hand and puts it on his wrist. "You mentioned something last night. I'm interested."

Except that doesn't make any sense - Yoobin distinctly remembers Handong's discomfort with the whole situation. She tilts her head, points at him; Handong presses a finger to her lips. "That's great!" Shiang says. He suddenly sounds very excited. "I would be very glad to take you there right now-"

"On one condition," Handong says. She gestures around, picking up all three of her friends. "We all go with you."

Yoobin and Bora exchange a look.

Shiang shrinks away. "That's not what's supposed to happen," he says, in a voice that suggests that they weren't supposed to hear.

Bora steps in front of him, sets her hand on his upper arm. "It's what God wants, right?" she says, sickly, sugary sweetness dripping from her tone.

It is what God wants. Bora's right.

Yoobin doesn't know how she knows that. She doesn't know why she counters, stepping forward on the other side. "You can lead the way in your car, and we'll follow behind you," she says, and she doesn't know why she says that. "How does that sound?"

Shiang forces the smile to stay on his face, but his eyes are hard and cold. "Sounds fantastic. It's cool that you're all interested." He backs away, squeezes between the two girls on his side. "Right. We can head out now, if that's alright with you."

"Just let us pay, and then we'll join you," Handong says.

Shiang turns and bolts out of the shop. Bora slumps; her face falls into something akin to terror. "What the hell?" she squeaks. "God? What is he talking about?"

Handong curls her fingers into her chest. "What are you talking about? You're the one that said it."

Yoobin touches her fingers to her throat. "I don't like this," she whispers. "I don't like this at all."

"I guess we just need to keep going," Handong says. She walks off towards the counter to pay for her supplies.

Bora shakes her head. "How many bullets do you have?" she asks, scratching the back of her arm.

Yoobin shrugs. "Should be full. Why?"

The older girl says nothing, just walks off to pay for her food as well. A cold feeling is brewing in Yoobin's chest.

 

[ec.li.ps.e]

Siyeon dabs Minji's hand with a paper towel. "That doesn't hurt?" she asks, holding an unopened Band-Aid in her teeth.

Minji shakes her head. "Nope. Not at all." She sighs. "But I can move my hand just fine. Just doesn't hurt."

"I wonder if it would hurt anywhere else," Siyeon muses. She opens the Band-Aid, presses it to the cut. "But I wouldn't."

Minji laughs. "Lemme just cut my thumb off or something. See if that hurts. Good god, no." She pulls her hand away and flexes her fingers. "I don't know what's going on. That's so weird." She shrugs, as if nothing happened at all, and picks up her bowl.

Siyeon can't help but roll her eyes. "You're like a dog. Always thinking of food." She looks down at her own portion. She isn't very hungry anymore.

"We spent a solid half an hour on this,"Minji says. "I'm not letting it go to waste."

"Letting what go to waste?" asks a tired sounding Yoohyeon. Siyeon leans back and sees the young girl stretched out on the couch, her eyes glazed over. "Can I have some?"

She shrugs. "Sure," she says, picking up a bowl and carrying it over to her. "You good?"

Yoohyeon blinks at her. "What's with your shirt?" she asks. "And no, I'm not. Just finished a paper. Looks… Interesting?" She sits up, pokes at the substance with her fork. "Why didn't you ask me for help?"

"Because you were doing a paper," Minji calls. She steps over a small sauce puddle and comes over to sit in the common room. "What was it on, anyway?"

Yoohyeon shrugs, stabs a piece of carrot rather aggressively. "Just like some English stories we'd read, old fairy tales. For extra credit, we could write about whatever we want, like, make a connection to something. And I just decided to make something up, y'know?" She laughs tiredly. "So I wrote about this demon that doesn't share its name, and like, wants to take over the world. No idea where that one came from." Takes a bite, nods, hums. "Okay, this is good."

"Huh, I feel like I've heard that before," Siyeon says.

Yoohyeon waves her fork. "It's a bit of a trope, I guess. Making deals with the devil. Hopefully she doesn't both looking it up, I don't need to like, get caught in this." She sighs. "Seriously, I'm barely passing that literature class right now."

Minji pats her back soothingly. "If she asks questions, you could just continue lying," Siyeon suggests. "Be as vague as you can. What's it supposed to look like?"

"Like…" Yoohyeon stirs her lunch. "Well, I guess I could just say it doesn't look like anything, or that it looks like you. That's pretty scary. And it lives in the void? That's vague, too-"

Minji chokes on her food, making Yoohyeon squeak. "Are you okay?" she asks, reaching forward.

"What did you dream about last night?" Minji asks. She grabs Yoohyeon's leg. "This is important."

Siyeon flinches away from her. "I don't really remember?" Yoohyeon says. Delicately, she pries each finger off her leg. "I remember falling, and then there was nothing surrounding me-"

"Oh my God," Minji says. "That makes four of us."

Siyeon tilts her head. "Four?"

The older girl nods. "Bora, too. In the bathroom, she told me that she had the same dream. With the nothingness, and the falling, and that's all you can remember." She furrows her brow. "I don't know what it means."

Yoohyeon laughs, sort of panicky. "Okay, this is just bizarre ," she says. "Do you think we all had the same dream? Is that even possible? It shouldn't be, right? That's not how dreams work…"

"Bora said something about it being a god's doing."

Siyeon holds her hands up and shakes her head. "Okay, that's too far. There's no way that's true. I mean, I guess it could be, but… But that's ridiculous!" She walks away from the other two, taps her fingers against her chin. "Things like that just don't happen in real life. They can't. It's impossible."

She turns around, searches each of their faces for some sign that this is a joke , a prank, something like that, but all she sees is fear, the same fear that roils in the bottom of her stomach reflected on each of their faces. "Then what is happening?" Yoohyeon asks. "Maybe we're just overthinking this."

Minji looks at her hand, runs her thumb over the band-aid. "Yeah, maybe," she says. "Or maybe…"

She trails off and doesn't finish her sentence, but Siyeon knows what she's thinking, somehow. "Maybe we've made a deal with the devil?" she says, and she smiles wrily.

"I told you it was a trope," Yoohyeon says, and she laughs, but she doesn't look like she's feeling it.

Siyeon goes to dump her bowl in the sink. She's not very hungry anymore at all .

 

[ec.li.ps.e]

Bora's leg is bouncing. Every so often, it hits the glove compartment door, sets the gun rattling. It does nothing for her nerves.

No one's said anything for the past five minutes. They've driven in an awkward silence down a nearly empty highway behind a police car and haven't said a word about what they're planning to do there or why they're even going through with this godforsaken plan in the first place, but she supposes that they all are thinking the same thing. They have to be. There's no reason why they wouldn't be, or why someone wouldn't have tried to wrestle the steering wheel away from Yoobin's white-knuckled grip and turn the damn car around.

Bora takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, digs her fingers into the seat. "We're going to kill him," she says, slowly, carefully. "That's what we're doing, right? That's why we're here? To kill him?"

Yoobin's mouth is set in a grim line. She says nothing. "Yes, we are," Handong says. "I guess."

"Okay." Bora turns around, squints at her friend. "We're gonna kill him. Why ?"

Handong just looks scared. "I don't know," she says. "I don't want to kill him. I don't want to kill anyone."

"Neither do I," Yoobin says.

"Neither do I," Bora mutters. "But here we are. We have to. We haven't turned around. We're going to kill him."

Handong shakes her head. "I just… It feels like something bad's going to happen if we don't, like he'll try to kill us, or worse ." She buries her face in her hands. "But what's worse than death, I don't know."

"Lots of things," Yoobin says. "Rape, I guess. Or torture. Or-"

Bora squeezes her eyes shut. "Just stop talking. Please."

They fall back into silence. The police car ahead of them takes an exit onto a side road, and Yoobin follows.

"See you all in hell, then," Bora says, and she laughs. It's not funny. That just makes her laugh harder.

Yoobin laughs, too, a dry chuckle. "Be nice to know someone, eh?" she says.

"Not hell. Some place else," Handong says.

"Please stop killing the mood," Bora replies.

They bounce and roll off the main road, onto a dirt road, where he stops. He pushes the door open and sticks his head out. "We have to walk from here!" he calls. "Might ruin the car that way."

As one, the trio in the car unbuckle their seatbelts, push open their doors. "Pass me the gun," Yoobin says.

Bora obeys mechanically, with shaking hands. "Let's just do this quickly. I want to go home ." She hops out of the car. Her sneakers squelch in the mud. "And get so drunk that I don't remember this day."

"I second that," Handong says. She tugs her hoodie around her. "Do you think the rain will start soon?"

"Hopefully it'll wait until after this is done," Yoobin mutters. She's shoved the gun in her hip pocket. It sort of sticks out, but it's mostly concealed. Shiang's not likely to notice it. At least, Bora hopes he's not. Lord knows what he's actually thinking right now.

Have they walked into a trap? She can't tell.

They start walking, keeping a safe distance from him. He's talking, more rambling than anything else. The wind's begun to pick up; it blows his words away from them. All Bora can make out is occasionally "God," and "power," and a string of the most cliche words she can think of. She swallows.

According to everyone else, she's been saying similar things all morning. Perhaps he's not even aware of what he's saying. Perhaps he's innocent . Perhaps they are about to sacrifice an innocent man for some obscure reason that is buried deep within her subconscious and she stops walking. Her entire body shakes. "What are we doing?" she whispers.

"God's will," Handong says.

"God wouldn't want this."

"But someone does." Handong sighs. "Are you okay, Bora?" Her expressions soften, back to that concerned, terror-tinged look that she's been wearing the whole time. "You look… Scared."

Bora smiles. "So do you." She steps forward, loops their arms together. "Here goes nothing."

They've stopped in front of a small, squat cottage. The windows are covered with a dark red cloth that ripples in the breeze; vines curl and twist up the sides of the structure. It looks old. Handong's breath catches in her throat. On Bora's other side, Yoobin tenses. "It's in here," Shiang says. He casts a glance over his shoulder, grinning widely. "In this building. Shall we?"

"I've been here before," Handong says, seemingly without meaning too. She wiggles free from Bora's grip and stumbles forward. "With you. I know I have."

Shiang tilts his head. "What are you talking about, Handong?" he asks. "I haven't seen you in years, and we've never come here . That's not possible."

But Handong doesn't appear to be listening. She just keeps walking, up the steps, to the door. Her fingers delicately rest on the doorknob. "I've been here as well," Yoobin says. "In my dreams."

Bora looks between the two of them. "Are you crazy? What are you guys talking about?" She steps towards Yoobin, whose hand is on the gun, and touches her shoulder. "I've never seen this place in my life-"

"You never made it here," Yoobin says. "You died before you could. Don't you remember, Bora?"

When they make eye contact, Yoobin's eyes are wide, and she looks equal parts terrified and fucking pissed . Bora flinches away. "Died? What are you talking about?"

"I second that. What are either of you talking about?" Shiang turns around, glances between both of them. "I've never seen you -" he points at Yoobin- "and I've never taken you anywhere, and…"

He trails off, his eyes falling on the gun in Yoobin's hands. "So, you've heard him, too," he says, and his face splits into a wild grin. "You knew what I was going to show you already."

"Clearly, it's abandoned you," Bora finds herself saying, though she doesn't know where the words are coming from.

Yoobin fires.

A clean shot, right between the eyes. Shiang staggers backward, slips on the grass, falls. He's dead shortly after. Bora lets out a massive sigh; Yoobin drops the gun.

The door squeaks, and when they look up, Handong's disappeared into the house. "Wait!" Bora shouts. "We should get out of here."

She starts running, hopping over the corpse as she does so, and runs into the house after her. Handong is ahead of her, walking down a surprisingly cozy looking house, with a gold runner on the floor and a set of plush chairs in the room to her right. Handong has started to walk up the stairs, her movements mechanical, like she's being puppeted. Bora stops to take in the house. It's too nice, too lived in. This was his home. He wanted to show them his home. That was all.

Except he knew what it was.

Bora doesn't know what it is.

She hurries up the stairs, chasing after the quickly disappearing image of her friends. "Handong," she calls. "Where are you going ?"

Robotically, Handong pushes every door open. A bedroom, red rug on the floor, pictures on the walls. Another bedroom, a desk, an unmade bed. A bathroom. An altar with a dog skeleton stuffed full of flowers, on a table under a large, ornate hunting knife.

It is here that Handong stops, with Bora right next to her. "What…?" Bora asks. She thinks she's going to be sick.

Handong steps forward, touches one of the flowers. "I died here," she whispers. "In this room. At his hands." She looks up at the knife, brushes her fingers against it. "By this blade."

Bora shakes her head. "You clearly didn't," she says. "You're alive, right now. See? You're breathing." She comes forward, grabs Handong's wrist. "You have a pulse…"

Except she doesn't.

Bora squeaks and drops her hand. Handong shakes her head; tears are in her eyes. "We need to get out of here," she says. "Now. Before something bad happens."

Bora nods, numbly. She presses her fingers to her neck. She doesn't have a pulse.

"We're not telling anyone what happened," she says, as they walk stiffly back out of the house.

Handong says nothing, just nods.

 

[ec.li.ps.e]

fin.

this was the first dc fic i ever wrote and i started writing it almost a year ago.