The cold metal texture reassured me. I spread my hand and gripped the doorknob firmly. Then, I turned it slowly.
It turned, but the door stopped halfway. It seemed to be securely locked from the outside. I tried a few more times, carefully clicking it, then pulled hard. The wooden door creaked. I struggled with all my might, even though I couldn’t stand properly, but eventually gave up and collapsed to the floor.
Just confirming the extent of my allowed freedom was satisfying enough. I was no longer completely confined to the bed, and there was light—big improvements compared to being bound in the dark.
Leaning against the wall, I limped around the small room. It didn’t take long to reach the wooden dresser. I opened the drawer and started rummaging through its contents.
Inside was a black box filled with rotors I had used before, and a vibrator as thick as my forearm. They were all clean, as if they had never been used.
There were two other objects whose purposes I couldn’t identify, and I didn’t want to know. I vaguely sensed that these would be the tools for the next “punishment.” I stared at them for a moment, then closed the drawer, not wanting to touch them.
In the remaining compartments, I found the blue patient gown I wore, along with towels and toothbrushes. There was nothing that could help me escape the room—no hammer, nails, or iron bars. I hadn’t expected anything, but when I opened the bottom drawer, I hesitated before putting my hand inside.
There was an ordinary-looking outfit, neatly folded, that didn’t belong.
I took it out and unfolded it, holding it up to my body. The gray cotton T-shirt looked too small for me. The pants that came with it were the same. I wondered why children’s clothes were here. Of course, no matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t figure it out. A normal person couldn’t possibly understand the thoughts of a madman.
Just then, the door rattled. The clicking sound made me jump. I hastily folded the clothes and stuffed them back into the drawer, then carefully closed it. I hadn’t been told not to look inside the drawer, but I was afraid of being nitpicked and punished again.
I crawled back to the bed on all fours. The moment I sat down properly, the door creaked open. A man wearing a black cap entered, carrying a bag. He put the bag down and came over to pull my face toward him.
Then, he lightly kissed my lips and asked:
“Did you sleep well?”
“Yes.”
“Bathroom?”
I wasn’t desperate, but I shook my head. The man chuckled and took a sandwich out of his bag, handing it to me. He unwrapped it with an apologetic tone.
“I have a lot of assignments today, so I couldn’t make it myself.”
……Assignments? I took the sandwich and looked up at him. I still couldn’t recognize the man’s face. The curiosity about his identity, which I had pushed aside to endure the situation, resurfaced. He had never talked about himself before, but now he had finally mentioned something about himself—“assignments.”
Assignments? What kind of assignments? Was he a college student? Which school did he go to?
Questions piled up like a mountain. My mind became chaotic, and my tongue stiffened. I moved my lips several times before finally answering.
“……It’s okay.”
“I’ll definitely make it for you tomorrow, so just bear with it today. If you need to go to the bathroom, call me.”
“Where are you going?”
“To do my assignments.”
“Why? Do it here.”
More than wanting him to stay, I was curious—if I saw him doing his assignments, maybe I could guess his identity. He seemed pleased by what I said. Smiling affectionately, the man climbed onto the bed and lightly stroked my cheek before whispering in my ear:
“If I do it here, I’ll want to have sex with you.”
……
“Now that we’ve finally become people who need each other, I don’t think I can hold back in this mood.”
I suspected the man sometimes spoke in alien tongues. I couldn’t understand what he was saying at all. We had become people who needed each other?
Nonsense. I didn’t need the man.
If he thought that just because I was behaving, I wanted to say he was terribly mistaken. But then I might get punished again, so my fierce gaze softened.
I obediently nodded. The man seemed satisfied and left a kiss on my forehead before picking up his bag and leaving the room.
I thought he was leaving for good, but it seemed he was just going to do his assignments at the old, large table in the kitchen. I didn’t hear the sound of a lock engaging.
After he left, I fell into thought—about the man’s identity.
Countless people I had met flashed through my mind.
Strangely, all their faces were blank. My memories before being imprisoned here were as blurry as they had been since the moment I was kidnapped. It wasn’t easy to find the man in my hazy memories. Moreover, as if by agreement, the faces were all blacked out like black holes, making it impossible to recall them. Failing to remember their faces, I felt an endless sense of self-loathing.
What had I been doing before being imprisoned here? Why did I meet that man, and how did I end up here?
Was he really the stalker? Had I caught the stalker?
My mind was in chaos.
Suddenly, a headache struck. I lay down and panted. The smell that had only been in the dark room rushed in. Behind my closed eyes, colorful synapses sparked and disappeared.
Before I knew it, my mouth was open. As I lifted my face from the blanket, I felt the saliva dripping from my lips onto my chin.
The symptoms came on suddenly. The lightbulb flickered, and a beeping noise rang out. My vision spun, and I felt like I was going to throw up.
I covered my mouth with one hand to suppress the nausea.
After some time, I lowered my hand. I was sweating profusely. I didn’t know what it was, but the room, which had been full of light, flickered. The wallpaper, which had been colorful, began to rot.
“Ugh……!”
As the wallpaper rotted and turned black, dozens of eyeballs appeared through it, staring at me. I screamed in terror, my breath becoming ragged. I scooted backward, but there was nowhere to go in the small room. I trembled. The eyeballs rolled around inside the wallpaper. I heard a noisy laughter—they were all mocking me.
They mocked me, a man, for being imprisoned, adapting, and accepting it.
The noise made me feel like I was about to pass out.
I must have been on the verge of losing consciousness.
The door burst open, and the man walked in.
The eyeballs closed one by one, and the colorful wallpaper returned, disappearing.
The noisy room fell silent as soon as the man entered.
My heart pounded like it was climbing a steep mountain.
The man climbed onto the bed as soon as he entered and pulled my face to his chest, hugging me. I felt reassured by the hand patting my shoulder. The stench that had been stinging my nose was gone.
Breathing heavily, I rubbed my cheek against his chest. I was crying without realizing it. My trembling body, gripped by fear, was pulled tightly against his warm body.
“It’s okay, Siwoo. It’s okay. I’m here now.”
“Ugh…… Ugh…… Ah, the eyes, there are so many eyes. They’re looking at me, ugh, mocking me. Nngh—”
His face was a mess from tears, his voice hoarse and whimpering.
“It’s okay.”
“……Hngh.”
“It’s okay. You’re safe with me. Nothing can hurt you when I’m here.”
Why did I feel relief at the words of a rapist?
Why did it have to be a man?
Who had made me like this?
I was just so exhausted. When a man was around, I could escape that suffering, even if only for a moment. It was branded into me.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
