Prologue
The car’s headlights flickered.
The streetlights had no power, leaving everything in darkness, and the oil drum was empty.
It was a deep, eerie night. The pale light of the gas station flickered intermittently. A cold mirage shimmered in the air. From the forest across the way, muffled echoes seemed to rise from the darkness.
Even as I carried the oil drum toward the pump, I couldn’t let my guard down for a second.
By now, they must have noticed I’m gone.
My hands trembled as I secured the drum and filled it with fuel.
The wound from earlier stung fiercely. My left hand traced the injury, while my right gripped the drum.
The dark, desolate road was empty—no cars passed by. This unnatural silence felt foreign. I glanced around nervously, only relaxing after confirming the gun at my waist was still there.
I barely filled the drum halfway before lifting it, heavy and sloshing. I had to hurry.
I needed to escape this forest before dawn.
I returned to the old truck I’d arrived in.
Forcing open the rusted fuel cap, I poured the oil inside. After confirming every last drop had drained into the tank, I tossed the drum aside.
Limping, I climbed into the truck. Through the cracked mirror on the dashboard, I caught a glimpse of my face.
The reflection was pale, rigid—my forehead marred by a jagged wound. Blood trickled from where the skin had torn when I forced my way through the broken window.
I had to get out of this forest before I lost consciousness. I just wanted it all to end.
If I could escape before sunrise, I’d be free.
I placed my hands on the wheel and turned the ignition with all my strength.
The truck, barely fit for human use, roared to life with a dying groan.
I drove off.
Into the heart of the dark forest.
There was only one road, but no matter how far I drove, the exit refused to appear.
A chilling sense of déjà vu crept over me—had I been driving in circles? A murder of crows took flight into the black night sky.
The trees seemed to narrow their eyes, their twisted grins mocking me as their branches swayed like outstretched arms.
The void was suffocating, the leaves hanging like shadows, and a piercing ring echoed in my ears.
Not a single star pierced the pitch-black sky.
After hours of driving, I realized I’d never find the way out. The last thread of hope shattered.
My gaze kept drifting to the tiny clock on the dashboard.
It was stuck at 9:12. Checking it was pointless.
Then, at the edge of my vision—an exit.
I slammed the accelerator, the truck screaming in protest as it lurched forward.
A violet mist swirled unnaturally. The forest ended abruptly, revealing a dilapidated cabin.
The truck sputtered, leaking oil, and finally died.
In the distance, the horizon began to lighten.
A despairing sigh escaped my lips.
I hadn’t escaped after all.
I dropped my face onto the steering wheel. Dawn was breaking.
After hours of driving, I’d only circled back to the place I’d been so desperate to flee.
The creaking door of the truck opened, and I stepped out. He stood by the entrance, smirking, holding up a blanket.
“I told you to give up.”
I ignored him and walked past.
He grabbed my wrist, twisting it, his smirk softening.
“You can’t leave. You’re cold. Were you freezing?”
I glared at him in response.
The brown blanket wrapped around me, gentle against my skin.
Only then did I realize I was shivering.
“It’d be nice to hear your voice.”
…
Did he really think I wasn’t speaking because of him?
I turned away, my expression icy. His disappointed frown made him look deranged.
“Your forehead’s cut. Such a pretty face, and now it’ll scar. Oh! I warmed your favorite cocoa.”
He took my hand, his grip soft, and led me inside.
His steps were confident, unlike the tenderness of his touch.
As we passed the broken window of the room I’d escaped from, my body trembled.
My bruised ankle was visible, stained with dried blood.
His brute strength forced me onto a chair at the table.
A cup of cocoa sat there, as if he’d known I’d return.
I stared at it in silence.
He waited patiently, watching me.
It was infuriating. A surge of irritation made me knock the cup away.
It hit the wall, then clattered to the floor, spilling cocoa everywhere. The plastic cup didn’t break, but the hot liquid spread across the floor.
“Ugh.”
I hadn’t expected it, but the scalding cocoa burned my injured leg. I clenched my fists, curling in on myself. He watched, unfazed, then slowly stood.
“Aren’t you tired of this yet?”
He leaned in, his arm slipping under my armpits, lifting my emaciated body with ease.
I bit my lip, held captive in his arms.
My only resistance was silence.
He carried me to the bathroom.
“What should I do with you?”
I still didn’t answer. He sighed, his fingers tracing my forehead, temples, and chin with almost affectionate strokes.
His hand brushed my leg, reddened by the spilled cocoa, then deliberately dragged his nail over the wound from the broken window. A pained gasp escaped me.
“-Ngh.”
His smile widened at the sound, delighted.
He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature before spraying water over me.
“If you don’t eat, I’ll force-feed you.”
“If you don’t sleep, I’ll fuck you until you pass out.”
“If you don’t smile, I’ll sew your lips into one.”
“I don’t want to be rough. But why do you never do as I say?”
Without waiting for a reply, he lifted the showerhead over my clothes.
“Stop being stubborn. Talk to me. It’s hard for me too… Hm? Siwoo.”
Hearing my name from his lips made my stomach churn.
“Ugh… Ugh—!”
I shoved him away, retching violently, even though there was nothing in my stomach. The mere sound of my name made me sick.
And he hated it when I vomited.
His expression darkened. He grabbed my collar, slamming me against the wall, my mouth smeared with bile. His tongue forced its way in, prying my clenched lips apart, scraping my teeth.
My defiance crumbled as he bit my lower lip until it bled.
Blood and saliva dripped down my chin. He scraped the roof of my mouth, then seized my tongue, biting down. My head spun.
I felt like I might vomit blood.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
