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elikajinnie · 9 months ago

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You Know You Should Not Have Survived That, Right? | Ghostface!Heeseung x fem!reader Part 3

Part 3 of 4

P: Ghostface!Heeseung X Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, stalking, obsessive/ possessive behaviour, blood/injury, violence, graphic descriptions, attempted murder, murder, kidnapping, mature themes, PLOTWISTS, IDOL CAMEOS!! i kinda went crazy with this...

Wordcount: 25.5k

Synopsis: In a quiet town where the shadows of the past seem to linger, you finally feel a sense of safety after surviving the horrors of Ghostface years ago. However, that peace is shattered when mysterious disappearances begin. One by one, people vanish without a trace, their fates linked to the haunting legacy of Ghostface, which begins to resurface. The past is not buried; it’s clawing its way back to haunt you.

a/n: this was way more complicated to write.. it was supposed to be dropped yesterday for Heeseungs bday! but i saw terrifer 3 so a setback! :/

REMEMBER!; This is purely fictional and just for fun. I do not wish any harm upon any characters.

please read part 1 & 2 first . playlist

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Heeseung turned sharply after you slipped away, his heart racing as he faced Taehyung. The sight of his friend, bloodied and hurt, only fueled the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. Taehyung let out a twisted laugh, his voice taunting. “I was one step ahead of you…” With a soft urgency, Heeseung leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, whispering, “Stay with me, angel…” His eyes, usually warm, now burned with a fierce determination. He stood up, the tension crackling around him, and strode toward Taehyung. Grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, Heeseung pulled him to his feet with a fierce grip. “Hey! Hey! Let go!” Taehyung shouted, struggling against Heeseung’s hold, but his resistance was futile. Without a word, Heeseung dragged Taehyung toward the edge of the forest, the shadows growing deeper around them. When they reached a secluded spot, Heeseung released Taehyung, sending him sprawling onto the forest floor. Heeseung produced a knife, its blade glinting in the faint light as he twirled it effortlessly in his hand. “You will pay for what you did to Y/N…” Heeseung’s voice was low and steady, each word laced with a chilling promise. Taehyung's bravado crumbled as fear crept into his eyes, realizing the gravity of the situation.

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A woman sat alone in an empty office building, idly filing her nails while chatting on the phone. The monotony of the task at hand contrasted with the lively conversation she was having. "Yes, I know, it's completely crazy how she did that!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with disbelief.

As she glanced up, the ceiling light above her cubicle flickered ominously. Wrinkling her nose, she looked down at her nails, scrutinizing them before setting the nail file aside on her desk. "Yes, I know, Nayeon… I will," she continued, nodding along to the conversation.

Suddenly, a loud thud echoed from somewhere in the darkened office. Her head whipped around, her body tensing as she froze in place. She was supposed to be alone, finishing up some last-minute documents. "Soo-ah?" Nayeon's voice crackled through the phone. "I'll call you back, Nayeon," Soo-ah said hastily, ending the call and standing up to peer over her cubicle wall.

The only illumination came from the flickering ceiling light above her and the glow of her computer screen. "Hello? Is somebody there?" she called out, her voice quivering slightly. Silence greeted her, making the emptiness of the office feel even more oppressive. She sat back down, trying to focus on her computer, but another loud thud broke her concentration.

Her nerves frayed, Soo-ah glanced at the clock on her computer screen. It read 2:15 a.m.—far too late for anyone else to be in the office. Rising again, she cautiously peeked around the corner of her cubicle, just in time to see a dark figure woosh past. Gasping, she jerked back in surprise and hurriedly ducked under her desk, clutching her phone tightly.

The silence was suffocating as she waited, heart pounding in her chest. Gathering her courage, she was about to peek out from under the desk when the light above her suddenly cracked. Sparks flew down, showering her in a brief, terrifying burst of light before plunging her into darkness. She gasped, the darkness closing in around her.

With a resolve borne of sheer fear, Soo-ah slowly crawled out from under her desk. She needed to get out of the office, away from whatever was lurking in the shadows. She moved cautiously, making her way in the opposite direction from where she had seen the shadow. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, and her eyes darted around, straining to see through the darkness.

Soo-ah crawled to the end of the aisle and rounded the corner, facing the large window that overlooked the city. The faint glow of the streetlights outside barely illuminated the dark office, offering her a sliver of visibility. She sat for a moment, catching her breath, before carefully standing up and peeking over the cubicles. Seeing nothing, she continued to crawl, her goal set on reaching the elevator or the stairs.

She halted when she reached what she thought was a wall. But it wasn't a wall. Looking up, her eyes widened in horror as she saw a person standing in front of her. The figure wore a white twisted mask, holding a hunting knife that gleamed menacingly in the dim light. "Fuck," Soo-ah whispered, panic lacing her voice.

The masked figure swung the knife at her, slashing her shoulder. Pain erupted from the wound, and she screamed, bolting upright and running. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Soo-ah repeated frantically, grabbing objects from desks and throwing them behind her, trying to slow down her pursuer. But the person continued their relentless chase, their footsteps echoing in the empty office.

She glanced back, only to crash into something solid. Turning quickly, she looked up and gasped. Another person, identical to the first, stood before her, their mask twisted into a wide, mocking smirk. Terror gripped her heart as she realized there were two of them. "There's two of you!?" she said fearfully, her voice barely more than a whimper.

The figure in front of her lunged, stabbing her in the stomach. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, the pain too intense for sound to escape. The knife was pulled out, and she collapsed onto the floor, her phone sliding from her grasp. The screen lit up, showing Nayeon trying to call her back, the name on the screen a cruel reminder of the normalcy she had just moments ago.

Soo-ah lay helplessly on the cold floor, her vision blurring as she looked up at the two killers who stood over her. They tilted their heads in unison, a chilling and unnatural movement. "Nighty-night," one of them said in a deep, mocking tone before he plunged the knife into her again.

Darkness consumed her vision as the pain faded, leaving only the cold embrace of death. The last thing she saw was the white masks, their twisted expressions permanently etched into her mind as her body grew cold.

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You sit in the corner of a bustling café, fingers tapping away at your keyboard, half-listening to the faint hum of chatter around you through your noise-cancelling headphones. People come and go, ordering their coffees, catching up with friends, but you remain focused, immersed in your work. It’s your usual routine—tune everything out, lose yourself in the flow, and get things done.

After what feels like hours, you decide to take a break, leaning back in your chair and stretching your arms. Pulling up a news site, you scroll absentmindedly until a headline catches your eye: "Another Disappearance Shakes Local Office: Young Woman Missing After Late-Night Shift." Your stomach sinks.

Clicking on the article, you quickly skim through the details. A young woman had vanished after 12 a.m. on Tuesday, leaving nothing but a pool of blood and her phone behind. Your frown deepens as you take in the chilling words.

“God dammit…” you mutter under your breath, rubbing your eyes in frustration. This was the third disappearance this month.

You sit there for a moment, staring blankly at the screen. The café noise fades into the background as your thoughts linger on the article. Three disappearances in one month. It didn’t make sense—people vanishing without a trace, no clear leads, only fear spreading like wildfire.

You chew the inside of your cheek, thinking about the woman’s last moments, about the blood, the phone left behind. But the more you think about it, the more your chest tightens, an anxious buzz settling in the back of your mind. There’s no use dwelling on it, you tell yourself. Nothing you can do from here.

Shaking your head, you push the thoughts aside and turn back to your laptop. The work needs to get done, and you’re already behind schedule. You place your fingers back on the keyboard, forcing yourself to focus, typing slowly at first, then gradually picking up speed as you sink back into the rhythm.

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When you get home, the soft meow of Ddongsik greets you as he weaves between your legs, rubbing his head affectionately against you. You smile down at him, bending to give him a gentle scratch behind his ears. "Hello, sweetie," you say, your voice soft as you stroke his fur.

After slipping off your shoes and shrugging out of your jacket, you walk into the living room and find Heeseung lounging on the couch, controller in hand, eyes fixed on the TV screen. He glances over his shoulder at you and grins. "Welcome home!"

You walk over to him, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "Thanks," you murmur, before heading toward the bedroom. Heeseung chuckles softly, already turning back to his game as you make your way to take a much-needed shower.

After your shower, the warmth from the water leaves you feeling relaxed, and you slip into your most comfortable clothes—a loose t-shirt and soft sweatpants. Padding back into the living room, you find Heeseung still on the couch, focused on his game but looking peaceful. You settle beside him, tucking your legs under you, and lean your head against his shoulder.

He pauses the game and turns to you with a smile, sensing you have something on your mind. "Feeling better?" he asks, shifting slightly to make room for you to get comfortable.

"Yeah, much better," you say, giving him a soft smile before your expression turns more serious. "I was reading about something earlier at the café… there’s been another disappearance."

Heeseung frowns, his brow furrowing in concern as he processes your words. "Another one? Like the ones from before?"

You nod. "Yeah, same situation. A young woman. She was working late, disappeared past midnight. They found blood and her phone, but nothing else." Your voice lowers as the weight of it settles between you.

Heeseung goes quiet, his gaze shifting from the TV to the floor as he grows thoughtful. His thumb taps lightly on the controller in his hand, but his mind is clearly elsewhere now.

"That’s… weird," he mutters after a pause.

In the days that follow, you begin to notice a shift in Heeseung. He becomes more thoughtful, his usual easygoing nature clouded with something heavier. It starts small—he’d sit quietly for longer stretches, his mind elsewhere even when the two of you were just relaxing or watching TV. But soon, it becomes more noticeable. He starts glancing over his shoulder more often, even when you’re just walking around the neighborhood or running errands together.

At first, it’s subtle. A quick look behind when you’re out at night, his hand lingering protectively on your back as you pass through crowded areas. But as the days pass, you can see it’s more than just casual caution. Heeseung becomes more guarded, eyes scanning the environment a little too often, his expression thoughtful, sometimes even distant.

You think about asking him what’s on his mind, but you know him too well. Heeseung’s the kind of person who will speak up when he’s ready. So, you don’t push. You give him space, knowing that whatever is weighing on him, he’ll reveal it in his own time.

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You were deep into your work at the office, the soft clattering of keyboards and the occasional murmur of conversation filling the room. As you focused on your screen, a hand appeared beside you holding a water bottle. You blinked and looked up to see Taehyun standing there, his usual calm expression on his face.

“Here,” he said simply, handing it to you.

You smiled, appreciating the small gesture. “Thanks, Taehyun.”

He nodded and walked off without another word, heading back to his desk. You watched him go for a moment before turning your attention to the water bottle. Just as you were about to open it, you were interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Hey!”

You looked up to see Yuna grinning at you, her energy as bright as ever. She leaned against your desk, eyes sparkling with her usual curiosity. “Got a minute? I’ve got something juicy to tell you.”

You laughed, setting the water bottle aside for the moment. “Of course, what’s up?”

Yuna leaned in closer, clearly excited to share whatever gossip she’d picked up.

After Yuna finished her lively story, you shared a few laughs and exchanged some light banter before she finally headed back to her own desk. Smiling to yourself, you turned back to your work, diving into the tasks at hand. Hours passed, the afternoon dragging on in its usual way, and soon enough, the office was beginning to wind down.

As you started wrapping up for the day, collecting your things and shutting down your computer, something tugged at the back of your mind. You glanced at your desk, suddenly remembering the water bottle Taehyun had given you earlier. You hadn’t even taken a sip.

But when you looked for it, your brow furrowed—it wasn’t there. The bottle wasn’t in the spot where you had placed it after Yuna interrupted you. You scanned your desk, thinking you might’ve absentmindedly moved it somewhere, but it was nowhere to be found.

That strange feeling from earlier crept back in. You distinctly remembered putting it down, so where had it gone? You stood still for a moment, eyes lingering on the empty space where the bottle had been, the office now much quieter as people filtered out for the day.

It left an uneasy feeling, but you shook it off, telling yourself it was nothing. Maybe someone had mistaken it for theirs or a coworker tidied it up. Still, as you packed your bag and headed for the door, that unsettling thought remained, lingering in the back of your mind.

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The woman walked quickly, her heels clicking against the pavement in a steady rhythm as she made her way home from work. The street was dimly lit, the occasional flicker of a streetlamp casting long shadows, but she paid no mind to the darkness. Her eyes were focused on her phone, fingers scrolling through messages, completely absorbed.

A van passed by on the road, its engine humming as it drove past. She barely looked up, not thinking twice about it. But that was her mistake.

She didn’t notice when the van made a sudden U-turn at the end of the road. Didn’t hear how its engine softened as it slowed down behind her, the tires barely making a sound. She didn’t see the figure that slipped out of the side door, silent and quick, their footsteps blending with her own until it was too late.

The first thing she felt was the sharp pain as a knife plunged into her back, cutting off her breath in an instant. She opened her mouth to scream, but a rough hand clamped over it, muffling the sound before it could escape. Her eyes widened in terror, her phone slipping from her grasp, clattering to the ground as the van rolled up beside her.

The door slid open, and with terrifying efficiency, she was dragged off the sidewalk and thrown into the back of the van. The door slammed shut behind her, the sound echoing down the empty street as the van sped off, its taillights disappearing into the night.

All that remained on the dark, quiet road was her phone, lying facedown on the pavement, and a small pool of blood where she had been moments before.

The woman lay crumpled in the back of the van, her body trembling in shock as waves of pain radiated from the wound in her back. She tried to speak, to cry out, but only weak, choked sounds escaped her lips. Her throat felt tight, her voice too strained to form words. Her vision blurred, the dim interior of the van spinning as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

Through the haze, she saw them—the figures in the front of the van. The one driving wore a hood, their face hidden from view, but it was the other figure that made her heart pound in terror. Sitting across from her, they wore a white mask, plain and expressionless, but somehow more terrifying because of it. Their eyes were dark, void of any warmth as they stared down at her, watching her with a cold, eerie stillness.

The van rocked as it sped through the streets, the sound of the tires muffled by her own shallow breaths. She tried to move, to fight, but her limbs felt heavy, numb from the blood loss. Panic surged through her, but it was no match for the growing darkness creeping in at the edges of her vision.

“Time to sleep,” the masked figure said, their voice deep and twisted, each word dragging through the air like a final sentence.

The woman’s eyelids fluttered, her body losing the last of its strength. The world grew darker, her senses slipping away as the van continued its grim journey through the night. The last thing she saw before her consciousness faded was the haunting, lifeless gaze of the mask staring down at her, waiting for her to succumb to the darkness.

And then everything went black.

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As the days passed, the city grew more anxious. More women started to disappear, but the cases were erratic, with no clear pattern. There was no obvious timeline, no predictable interval between abductions. Some weeks passed in silence, giving a false sense of calm, only for another disappearance to send shockwaves through the city again.

The only common thread was chilling—each victim was a woman, alone. Whether she was walking home late at night or working past midnight in a dimly lit office building, it didn’t matter. The circumstances were always eerily similar: they vanished without a trace, leaving behind only blood and personal belongings, often a phone, as the sole evidence of their existence.

The media frenzy heightened with each report, but the police were left grasping at straws. Investigators found no obvious connection between the women—different ages, professions, and even locations around the city. Some worked in busy corporate buildings; others in small, isolated offices. Some vanished in residential areas; others in deserted industrial streets.

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The parking lot was nearly deserted, the fluorescent lights casting a dim, eerie glow over the rows of empty cars. It was close to 10 p.m., and the only sound in the air was the faint hum of the lights above and the soft click of the woman’s heels as she made her way across the pavement. Her phone was pressed to her ear as she chatted absently, trying to ignore the creeping sense of unease that always came with walking alone this late.

She spotted her car in the distance and quickened her pace, feeling a little more at ease as she got closer. But then she heard it—something subtle, like the shuffle of footsteps, just far enough away to make her pause.

“Hello?” she called out, her voice sharp in the quiet, her eyes scanning the shadows. Nothing moved. Silence.

She stood still for a moment, her heart thudding in her chest as she strained to listen, but no one answered. Probably just her imagination, she thought. With a nervous chuckle, she shook her head and returned to her conversation.

“Sorry, I thought I heard something,” she muttered into the phone, distracted, as she approached her car.

Then, her phone vibrated with an incoming call. Confused, she pulled it away from her ear to glance at the screen. The caller ID was unknown. With a sigh, she hung up her previous call and answered the new one.

"Hello?" she said cautiously, her voice tentative as she looked around, the dark parking lot suddenly feeling more menacing.

A low, twisted voice crackled through the line, sending a chill down her spine. "What are you doing all alone out there?" the voice asked.

She froze, her heart skipping a beat as her breath caught in her throat. "Who is this?" she demanded, but the voice didn’t answer her question.

"Do you like horror movies?" the voice continued, ignoring her. There was a sickening playfulness to the tone, like whoever was on the other end was enjoying this far too much.

"No," she replied sharply, her fingers tightening around her phone as she reached her car. "I don’t."

There was a soft laugh on the other end of the line. "What do you know about Ghostface?"

She blinked, confusion and fear mixing in her mind. "Ghostface? He’s… some infamous killer from a small town," she said slowly, trying to keep her voice steady. "He disappeared without a trace. No one knows what happened to him."

"Mmm, that’s right," the voice crooned, as if amused by her answer. There was a brief pause before the voice grew darker, more sinister.

Her pulse quickened, and every instinct screamed at her to end the call. Without a word, she hung up and shoved her phone into her pocket. The conversation left her skin crawling, and she fumbled for her keys, desperate to get into the safety of her car.

As she searched, she caught a glimpse of something in her rearview mirror. Her blood ran cold. Behind her, standing just a few feet away, was a figure dressed in all black, a white Ghostface mask gleaming under the parking lot lights.

The figure held a knife.

A scream tore from her throat as she spun around, instinctively swinging her purse at the masked attacker. The bag collided with him, causing him to stumble back for a brief moment. But that was all she needed.

She turned and bolted, her heels clicking rapidly against the pavement as she ran, her heart racing in pure terror. Behind her, she could hear the sound of his footsteps pounding against the ground, growing louder as he gave chase.

The parking lot seemed to stretch out forever, each car she passed a blur as she sprinted for her life, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She didn’t dare look back. All she could focus on was finding a way out, away from the masked figure who seemed determined to end her night in blood.

The woman's heart pounded in her chest, her legs burning as she sprinted across the parking lot. But the heels she wore slowed her down, each step feeling more precarious as she stumbled forward, desperate to escape. Behind her, the sound of heavy footsteps grew louder, closing the distance faster than she could manage.

Before she could make it far, a powerful hand grabbed her from behind, yanking her backward with brutal force. She screamed, but the sound barely had time to escape her lips before a sharp, searing pain tore through her chest. The knife plunged deep, and she cried out in agony, collapsing to the ground as she clutched the wound, blood spilling between her fingers.

The masked figure stood over her, head tilted in a chilling, almost curious manner as she gasped for breath, her vision blurring from the pain. For a moment, he simply watched her, as if savoring her suffering. Then, without a word, he raised the knife again and brought it down into her back. The second blow silenced her screams, her body going limp as her life faded away, leaving her lying motionless on the cold pavement.

Just then, another figure appeared from behind a row of parked cars. This one also wore a Ghostface mask, his dark clothes blending into the shadows. He approached casually, his posture relaxed as he observed the scene before him.

"You suck at talking to them," the first Ghostface said, glancing over his shoulder at the newcomer. There was irritation in his voice, as if critiquing a performance.

"Well, I'm not one for small talk, really," the second one replied, shrugging. He stopped beside the body, peering down at the lifeless woman. "Never been my thing."

The first Ghostface scoffed, wiping his knife clean on the woman's coat. "Maybe stick to the killing then."

"Yeah, yeah," the second one muttered. "Now help me with the body before someone shows up."

They both crouched down, working quickly and efficiently, lifting the woman’s lifeless form and dragging her to a nearby van parked in the shadows. With practiced ease, they hoisted her into the back, her bloodied body thudding onto the floor of the vehicle. The second Ghostface closed the door with a heavy slam, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of witnesses.

Before climbing into the van, he reached into his pocket and pulled out her phone. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it onto the pavement, where it landed with a dull thud, lying abandoned just like the others.

The first Ghostface slipped into the driver’s seat, starting the engine as the second one jumped in beside him. The van rumbled to life, its headlights cutting through the darkness as it pulled away from the scene, disappearing into the night, leaving behind nothing but the woman’s phone and a fresh pool of blood.

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The atmosphere at work had shifted drastically over the past few weeks. Tension hung thick in the air, particularly among the women. The recent string of disappearances—women being abducted either on their way home or in their workplaces—had cast a dark cloud over everyone’s minds. Every news report felt like a weight added to the growing fear that no one was truly safe.

Today, the office buzzed with anxiety. Groups of women were clustered together, their voices low but agitated as they discussed the recent events. You, Yuna and Karina sat at your usual spot in the break area, watching as more and more people abandoned their desks to join the conversations. The women spoke in hushed tones, but their words carried across the room—snippets of fear and frustration, all centered around the same dark subject.

Your supervisor, Mr. Park, stood at the front of the office, trying to regain control of the room. He raised his hands, attempting to get everyone’s attention, but it was clear that the unease had reached a tipping point. No one was listening.

“Everyone, please, calm down,” Mr. Park urged, his voice strained but failing to cut through the chatter. “We’ve implemented more security measures—no one should be here late alone, and we’ve hired additional guards to patrol the area. We’re doing everything we can—”

One of the women, clearly fed up, interrupted him. “It’s not enough! These disappearances aren’t happening somewhere far away—they’re here, in this city, and it feels like we could be next!”

A ripple of agreement spread across the room. Another woman spoke up, her voice shaking. “What if it happens to one of us? None of these women thought they’d be the next victim either, but look where they are now.”

You exchanged a glance with Yuna, who had been sitting quietly beside you, her usual cheerful demeanor replaced with a pensive expression. She leaned in, her voice low as she whispered, “This is getting out of hand. It’s like every woman here is on edge, and I can’t really blame them.”

You nodded in agreement, your own unease matching the growing paranoia in the room. “No one feels safe anymore. The stories get worse every time we hear about them.”

Just then, another woman’s voice rang out from across the room. “What about walking to the parking lot? What if something happens there? They say one of the women was attacked near her car!”

Mr. Park sighed, visibly struggling to maintain control of the situation. “I assure you, we’re doing everything in our power to make sure that won’t happen here. Please, stick together, don’t leave alone at night—”

But his words fell flat. The fear was palpable, and it was clear that no amount of reassurance could quell it.

Karina leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think it could happen to someone here? Like, someone we know?”

The thought sent a chill through you, but you kept your voice steady. “I don’t know. I really hope not, but it feels like no one is safe anymore.”

The three of you sat in silence for a moment, listening to the growing unrest around you. The women at the office were scared, and rightfully so. Every conversation seemed to circle back to the same grim topic—how quickly things could spiral out of control, and how anyone could be the next victim.

And as much as you wanted to stay calm, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that lingered in the pit of your stomach, wondering if you or someone close to you might be next.

As the chatter continued, the tension in the room only seemed to escalate. The atmosphere was thick with anxiety, and every woman appeared to be looking for a way to feel safe again. Just then, one voice cut through the rising din.

"Wait a minute, isn't she the one who had that encounter with Ghostface?" A woman named Lisa turned to you, her eyes wide with both concern and curiosity. "I mean, she literally survived attacks from both the original Ghostface and the second one. If anyone is a target, it’s her!"

The room went silent, and all eyes turned to you. A knot formed in your stomach as the realization of their scrutiny sank in. The stories of your past encounters had become a source of both intrigue and fear among your colleagues, but you never wanted to be in the spotlight for that reason.

“Yeah, I mean, you must know how to protect yourself, right?” another woman chimed in, her tone almost pleading. “What tips do you have for us? We could really use some advice.”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks, the pressure of their expectations weighing heavily on you. "I-I don’t think there’s much I can share,” you stammered, waving your hands in a dismissive gesture. “That was… different. You can’t really prepare for something like that.”

"But you survived," Lisa pressed, a hint of desperation in her voice. “You must have some kind of insight or strategy we could use. What should we do if we find ourselves in a similar situation?”

Their expressions were a mixture of fear and expectation, and it made you tense. "I know it’s scary right now," you continued, “but we have the police. That’s something, right? They’re there to help.”

"But what if they're not enough?" another woman interjected, anxiety spilling over in her voice. “What if something happens anyway? We need to be proactive!”

You could see the panic spreading, and your heart ached for them, but you didn’t know how to ease their fears. “Just remember to stay in groups and use the buddy system. If you see anything suspicious, report it immediately. We all have to look out for one another.”

The discussions turned to more practical solutions, but the sense of unease lingered in the air like a heavy fog. You couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite the reassurances, the threat was all too real.

As the conversations resumed around you, you felt a shiver run down your spine, wondering just how long it would be before the next headline flashed across the news, echoing the fears that were now a part of your everyday life.

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As the days turned into weeks, an unexpected shift swept through the city. The disappearances that had gripped the community with fear suddenly stopped altogether. News outlets began to report fewer stories about the incidents, and slowly but surely, the police patrols that had been so prevalent in the area dwindled.

With the pressure lifting and the atmosphere around the office becoming lighter, a collective sigh of relief spread among the women in your workplace. Conversations that had once been laced with fear shifted to lighter topics—plans for summer vacations, new projects, and even office gossip.

You couldn’t deny the sense of relief that washed over you as well, but in the back of your mind, a small part of you remained cautious, wondering if this was truly over.

With the return of some normalcy, you decided to take a day off, feeling the weight of the past few weeks finally beginning to lift. Taehyun had been instrumental in helping you settle into the city, always supportive and there when you needed it. He had helped you find your job and offered guidance through those chaotic initial weeks. You had come to trust him, and the prospect of spending some quality time together felt like just what you needed.

The sun shone brightly as you met Taehyun at a local café. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter and chatter as people enjoyed their day out. You settled at a table outside, soaking in the warmth and the sounds of the bustling city.

“Hey, it’s good to see you!” Taehyun smiled as he approached, his easygoing demeanor instantly putting you at ease. He wore a casual outfit that suited him well, and his presence was always a comfort.

“Thanks for meeting up with me,” you said, returning his smile as he took a seat across from you. “I felt like I needed a break from everything, you know?”

“I get that,” he replied, nodding in understanding. “It’s been a rough few weeks for everyone. I’m glad to see things calming down, even if it feels a bit too quiet.”

You agreed, grateful for the shift in the atmosphere but still wary. “Yeah, I hope it stays this way.”

As you chatted over coffee, sharing stories about your work and catching up on life, you felt a sense of normalcy returning. Taehyun made you laugh, effortlessly drawing you out of your worries and fears, reminding you of the good moments in life.

“Honestly, I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said, leaning in slightly, “how are you doing with everything? I know the past few weeks have been tough on you.”

You hesitated, considering his question carefully. “I mean, I’m okay, I think. The disappearances… they shook me up, but now that they’ve stopped, it feels like we can finally breathe again. I just hope that it’s really over.”

Taehyun nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s understandable to feel that way. But you’ve been really strong through all of it. I admire how you handled everything.”

His compliment warmed you, and you felt a little of the tension inside you ease. “Thanks, Taehyun. I couldn’t have gotten through it without support from people like you—and Heeseung.”

“Speaking of Heeseung,” Taehyun said, changing the topic, “how are things going with him?”

A smile spread across your face at the mention of Heeseung. “He’s wonderful. We’ve been trying to make time for each other amidst everything.”

“That’s good to hear,” Taehyun replied, a genuine smile on his face. “You deserve to have that support. You both do.”

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You were focused on your work when Taehyun appeared at your desk, looking flustered. "Hey, have you seen Sullyeon?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of desperation.

You shook your head. "No, I haven’t."

"Aw man," he sighed, holding up a small stack of papers. "I have to go out for lunch, and she was supposed to print these for me…"

Without thinking, you spoke up. "I can do that if you want."

The moment the words left your mouth, you felt a twinge of regret. You had been looking forward to your lunch with Heeseung, and now you risked being late. But seeing the defeated look on Taehyun's face had pushed you to offer help before you could fully process it.

His face brightened instantly. "You would be saving my ass," he said with a grateful grin, handing you the papers. "I owe you!" he called over his shoulder as he hurried off.

You sighed as you gathered the papers and made your way to the printer. You weren’t thrilled about cutting into your time, but it was too late to back out now.

You sighed again as the printer began spitting out the documents, the faint hum filling the otherwise quiet hallway. While you waited, your thoughts drifted to Heeseung and the lunch date you were already running late for. A part of you regretted offering to help Taehyun, but there was no turning back now.

A sudden, faint noise from behind made you pause. You turned to look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on the door to the emergency staircase at the far end of the hallway. The sound was so soft, it could have easily been dismissed—perhaps just the building settling or a draft—but something about it tugged at your attention.

You tilted your head, trying to listen more carefully. For a moment, everything was still. Shrugging it off, you turned back to the printer, watching as the papers slowly emerged. But then, there was another noise, slightly louder this time, like something shifting behind the door.

Your brow furrowed as you glanced back again. "Hello?" you called, your voice breaking the silence.

No response.

The hallway was unusually quiet. Most of your coworkers had already gone for lunch, and the floor felt almost abandoned. Hesitation bubbled up inside you, but curiosity got the better of you. Slowly, you moved away from the printer and approached the door to the emergency staircase.

The handle felt cold as you pushed it open, revealing the dark, echoing space of the stairwell. "Hello?" you called again, your voice bouncing off the concrete walls and disappearing into the distance.

Still no answer.

You were about to close the door and dismiss it as your imagination playing tricks when something fell with a soft thud near your feet. The sudden sound made you jump, your heart skipping a beat. You stared down, eyes widening as you saw a single pink heel lying on the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

Your breath caught in your throat. It took you a second to recognize the shoe—it was Sullyeon’s favorite pair. She wore them nearly every day. Your mind raced as you looked up the stairwell, then back at the hallway behind you. Sparse with people, eerily quiet.

Unease began to creep in, but concern for Sullyeon overtook it. You took a tentative step forward, picking up the heel. It felt cold in your hand.

"Sullyeon?" you called, voice more urgent this time as you started climbing the stairs, your heart beating a little faster now. The door to the hallway clicked shut behind you, sealing you inside the stairwell with the echo of your footsteps.

Each step upward seemed to amplify the unsettling stillness, and the further you climbed, the more your worry deepened. "Sullyeon?" you called again, but only the hollow sound of your own voice answered back.

Something was wrong. You could feel it tightening in your chest, a sense of foreboding that lingered as you continued up the stairwell, clutching Sullyeon’s heel in your hand.

You reached the top of the stairs, pushing open the door to the floor still under construction. The dim lighting barely illuminated the area, where plastic barrier sheets hung loosely from the ceiling, separating piles of materials and scattered tools. Dust filled the air, and the eerie silence only deepened your unease. You pulled back one of the sheets, squinting to peer through the space.

"Sullyeon? Are you here?" Your voice echoed faintly as you moved between the barriers, stepping carefully around the debris.

No answer.

The unsettling quiet pressed in on you as you navigated through the room, your breath growing shallow with every step. Something was wrong. Deep down, you knew it.

"Sullyeon?" you called again, a little louder this time, your voice cracking slightly. You pulled back another sheet of plastic and froze in place.

Your heart dropped.

There, on the cold floor, lay Sullyeon, her body twisted in a pool of blood. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, labored breaths. Her eyes, wide with fear and pain, locked onto yours. She gasped, trying to speak, but the words came out as painful whimpers.

"Sullyeon!" you screamed, rushing to her side. You knelt beside her, hands trembling as you applied pressure to the wound in her stomach. Blood seeped through your fingers, warm and slick. "Stay with me! Stay with me, Sullyeon!" you cried, panic rising in your chest as you desperately tried to keep her conscious.

But Sullyeon’s hands feebly pushed against you, weakly trying to move your hands away. "What are you doing?!" you asked in disbelief, your eyes wide with confusion as you tried to help her. Then you noticed she was pointing, trembling, at something behind you. Her eyes filled with pure terror.

"He… he…" she choked out, barely able to speak.

You barely had time to turn before a sharp punch landed on your face, sending you reeling backward. Pain exploded in your jaw as you clutched your face, stumbling to regain your balance. Your vision blurred for a moment, but when it cleared, you found yourself staring into the mask—that mask.

Ghostface.

Your heart pounded, terror gripping you as you took in the sight of the iconic white mask. But this wasn’t Heeseung. You knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this wasn’t him. You’d watched him bury the mask and knife, leaving that life behind for good.

This was someone else. Someone who had taken up the mantle of Ghostface, using it to spread terror once again. And you were sure this was the person responsible for all the disappearances.

"You…" you spat, your voice trembling with fury and fear. The figure in the mask tilted their head, the sharp glint of a knife catching the dim light as they stepped over Sullyeon, moving toward you with slow, deliberate menace.

Before the masked figure could get any closer, Sullyeon, in a final act of bravery, kicked out weakly, tripping the attacker. They stumbled forward, crashing to the floor with a grunt.

"Run!" Sullyeon screamed, her voice filled with agony.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You scrambled to your feet, your heart racing as you bolted toward the exit, barely dodging the swipe of the knife aimed at your legs. The sound of Ghostface rising behind you sent a chill down your spine, but you kept running, your only focus on escaping the nightmare.

You threw yourself against the door at the top of the stairs, your entire body slamming into it with force. The door flew open, but just as you began to make your descent down the stairwell, a heavy weight crashed into you from behind. You screamed as you tumbled forward, the force of Ghostface’s body slamming into yours sending you both rolling down the stairs in a chaotic mess of limbs and pain.

Your body collided painfully with each step, the hard edges bruising your arms and legs as you tried to orient yourself. When you reached the bottom, dizzy and aching, you scrambled, trying to wiggle away. Ghostface, equally disoriented from the fall, lunged for you, his gloved hand reaching out. You screamed, kicking out with all the strength you had left, your foot connecting squarely with his face.

He let out a shout, clutching his mask as he reeled back, giving you just enough time to scramble to your feet. You ran, your heart pounding wildly as adrenaline took over.

You knew going to your desk and calling the police would take too much time. You needed to get out of the building, to get someone’s attention.

As you sprinted down the stairs, panic pulsed through your veins, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Behind you, Ghostface had gotten up from where you’d both tumbled down the steps. From the corner of your eye, you saw him glance over the edge, his gaze locking onto your retreating figure. His fist slammed into the metal railing in frustration, a loud clang echoing through the stairwell. The anger radiated off him as he leaned down, snatching up the knife he had dropped during the fall.

Without missing a beat, he started running after you, the sound of his boots pounding against the stairs growing louder with every step.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as you flew down the remaining stairs, pushing yourself to run faster than you ever had in your life. Bursting through the door to the lobby, you ran toward the receptionist’s desk, your voice raw with terror. "Please, help! The killer—he’s after me! He’s in the building!"

The receptionist looked up, her face pale with fear as she took in your blood-streaked hands and panicked expression. She fumbled for the phone, her fingers shaking, but you knew every second counted.

You collapsed into a chair in the lobby, still shaking when the police arrived. Heeseung appeared beside you soon after, his eyes wide with horror when he saw you sitting there, bloodied and terrified. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his protective grip never faltering. You buried your face into his chest, your body trembling as you tried to steady your breath.

The police searched the building, but when they returned, the news wasn’t good.

"Look, miss," one of the officers began, his expression grim as he knelt beside you. "We searched everything, but the only thing we found was some blood and Miss Sullyeon’s phone." He held up a clear evidence bag, the bloodied phone lying inside. "The killer isn’t in the building anymore."

You sighed heavily, feeling a weight settle in your chest. Heeseung tensed beside you, his jaw clenched in frustration. "That clearly means the killer knows the area," he muttered darkly, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the ground.

"Clearly," the officer agreed, sounding just as defeated. "Look, if it’s alright with you, we’d like you to come back to the station to fill out your statement. Is that okay?"

You nodded, exhausted. Heeseung helped you to your feet, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist as the two of you followed the officers to their car.

Sitting in the back of the police car, Heeseung looked deeply unsettled. His hand found yours, squeezing gently as if to reassure you, though you could tell his mind was elsewhere. "I’m sorry, angel. I should have been there," he murmured, his voice heavy with guilt.

"It’s not your fault, Heeseung," you whispered, leaning into him. "Don’t beat yourself up over something you couldn’t have known would happen today."

He let out a sigh, shaking his head. "I know… but this is all my fault." His voice cracked slightly, and his thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, his other hand softly tracing the bruise forming on your cheek.

You understood what he meant. It wasn’t about today. He was blaming himself for everything—the murders, the start of everything. Ghostface had started with him, and now it was continuing, spreading like a dark shadow over both of your lives.

You had fallen in love with a felon, a criminal, a murderer. He had buried the mask, but the legacy had been reborn, and now you were yet again in the midst of it.

The trilogy had begun.

You arrived at the police station, the air heavy with tension. Heeseung was more on edge than usual, his jaw tight, eyes scanning the room warily. You knew he wasn’t fond of police stations—it was no secret why. His past left a bitter taste every time you were around law enforcement, and you could feel the weight of his discomfort radiating beside you.

Inside, the officers seemed to pick up on his energy too. As you both sat down at a desk, you noticed how one officer, who was meant to take your statement, hesitated, his gaze flicking nervously toward Heeseung. His presence, usually calm and collected around you, now felt almost threatening to others, though unintentionally. You reached out and placed a hand on his, squeezing it softly, a silent reminder that you were in this together.

"Is it okay if Heeseung stays while I give my statement?" you asked, though it came out more like a gentle command.

The officer, clearly a little intimidated by Heeseung's stoic demeanor, nodded quickly, fumbling with his notepad. "Y-yeah, of course. No problem."

Heeseung settled back in the chair next to you, though you could feel the tension in his muscles. His fingers gently drummed on the armrest, his gaze flickering toward every movement around the station. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand, a silent gesture of reassurance—but you could tell he was simmering under the surface.

The officer glanced at Heeseung briefly, then quickly looked away. You could tell he was intimidated, not just by Heeseung's physical presence but by the silent weight he carried with him.

The officer cleared his throat awkwardly, pulling out a notepad. “Alright, ma’am, let’s go over everything. Please tell us what happened with the… attacker.” He hesitated at the word “Ghostface,” as if saying it out loud might somehow conjure the horror you’d just escaped from.

You nodded, leaning forward slightly, your hand still intertwined with Heeseung’s for support. “It all happened so fast,” you began, voice still shaky. “I was printing papers when I heard a noise coming from the emergency stairwell. I went to check it out, and I found Sullyeon. She was hurt—stabbed.”

The officer scribbled down your words but kept glancing nervously at Heeseung, who remained silent, his eyes sharp and observant. You continued, describing every detail you could remember about the attack, your voice faltering slightly as you relived the terror. “Then... he came after me. He was wearing a Ghostface mask, like the one from the murders back in my hometown. I... I don’t know who he was, but he attacked me, and I barely got away.”

Heeseung’s jaw clenched as you spoke, his hand tightening around yours as though trying to shield you from the memory. His tension was palpable, and the officer, clearly uneasy, fumbled a bit with his notes. “And, uh, the suspect... Did you notice anything specific about him? His height, build, any details?”

You tried to focus, but Heeseung's tension made it hard to stay calm. “He was under six feet tall, a bit shorter. He moved fast, and... he didn’t say anything, just chased me. I didn’t get a good look at anything other than the mask and the knife.”

The officer nodded, scribbling down the details while casting a wary glance at Heeseung. “Alright, we’ll take this information and do our best to track him down. We’ll also be investigating Sullyeon’s disappearance.”

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The drive home was heavy with silence. Heeseung’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white as he focused on the road. He hadn't said a word since leaving the station, and the tension between you grew with every passing minute. You knew this silence well—it wasn’t anger, but something deeper. Heeseung was in his head, wrestling with thoughts he never liked to voice.

When you finally reached home, the familiar creak of the front door seemed to echo in the quiet night. Heeseung held the door open for you, his eyes dark with something unreadable. As you stepped inside, he finally spoke, his voice soft yet strained. “You should go wash up.”

You nodded, sensing that he wasn’t quite ready to talk yet. After everything, you needed the hot water to clear your mind, to wash away the remnants of the day—the blood, the fear, the lingering image of Ghostface in your head. You could feel Heeseung’s eyes on you as you walked to the bathroom, his silent presence heavy with worry.

Once you had showered and changed into clean clothes, you found him sitting on the couch in the living room, staring out the window. The dim light cast long shadows across his face, making him look even more lost in thought. You approached cautiously, sitting down beside him, your presence breaking through his reverie.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of everything that had happened, everything that lingered in your past, seemed to hang in the air. Finally, Heeseung broke the silence, his voice quiet but filled with something raw.

“I’ve always feared this would happen,” he began, his eyes still fixed on the window, as if looking anywhere but at you. “That someone… someone would pick up where I left off. I always knew it was possible.”

You stayed silent, listening, feeling the tension radiating off him.

“For years, I tried to put it behind me, tried to forget what I did as Ghostface. I thought burying it, moving away, starting over—it would all be enough. But these disappearances… I’ve been looking into them on my own, trying to piece it together. They’re not random. They’re murders. And now, they’ve come for you.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and he finally turned to face you, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and fear. “I’ve been researching, trying to find patterns, but… it’s always the same. Young women, alone, just like you were today. And the one thing I’ve always feared… it’s happening. I’m losing you, and I don’t know what to do.”

You reached out, taking his hand in yours, feeling the tension in his grip. Heeseung’s eyes were wide, vulnerable in a way you rarely saw. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered, the words barely audible. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane. Without you… I don’t know who I’d be.”

The intensity of his words hit you hard. You knew Heeseung struggled with his past, but hearing him voice it like this, raw and unfiltered, shook you. He had always been your rock, the one who seemed steady despite everything. But now, sitting here, you realized how deeply afraid he was—afraid of the person he used to be, and afraid of losing the one thing that gave him stability: you.

“You’re not going to lose me,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “We’ll get through this together. We’ve faced worse, remember?”

Heeseung closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about it. Every time you’re out there, every time you’re alone… It kills me. And today… I wasn’t there to protect you.”

“It’s not your fault, Heeseung,” you reassured him. “You couldn’t have known. But I’m still here, and we’re going to figure this out.”

His grip tightened around your hand, and for the first time that night, he let out a deep sigh, leaning his head against yours. “I’m so scared, angel,” he whispered. “I’m scared of what’s coming. But I’m more scared of losing you.”

Heeseung's breath warmed your skin as he leaned closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in that fragile moment, suspended in the heaviness of your fears and unspoken worries.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised softly, but the tremor in his voice betrayed his uncertainty.

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips with his. The kiss was tentative at first, a mixture of fear and longing. It felt as if you were both trying to hold onto something precious, something that could slip away at any moment. But as you kissed him back, the weight of the world lifted, if only for a moment.

His hands cradled your face, fingers tangling in your hair, grounding you both. You melted into the kiss, your heart racing as the intensity of your connection deepened. It was more than just a kiss; it was a vow, a silent promise to protect each other against the shadows of your past.

As you pulled back slightly, your foreheads still touching, you could see the storm of emotions swirling in Heeseung’s eyes—fear, love, and determination. “I need you to promise me something,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” you replied, your heart aching for him, for the vulnerability he laid bare.

“If anything happens… if I can’t protect you…” he paused, his gaze intense. “You need to fight. You need to survive. I don’t care what it takes. Just keep running. Promise me that.”

You nodded, understanding the gravity of his request. “I promise, Heeseung. I’ll fight. I won’t let him take me.”

A flicker of relief passed through his eyes, and he kissed you again, deeper this time, as if sealing the promise between you. The fear still lingered, a shadow that clung to your hearts, but in that moment, you felt invincible together. Whatever Ghostface represented—whatever legacy of terror threatened to reclaim you—you would confront it head-on, side by side.

Heeseung pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you as if he could shield you from everything that lurked in the darkness outside. You could feel the tremors of anxiety still present in his body.

You began to rub his back gently, your fingers tracing soothing patterns along his spine. With each stroke, you whispered sweet reassurances, reminding him that you were there and that everything would be okay.

Slowly, you felt his body begin to relax beneath your touch. His breath steadied, the tension in his shoulders easing as he melted against you, burying his head into the crook of your neck. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent a wave of comfort through you, and you could feel the weight of the world lift just a little. Heeseung sighed softly, and in that moment, you knew you had reached him.

Before you both realized it, the exhaustion and stress from the day began to take their toll. The adrenaline that had coursed through your veins was fading, leaving a heavy fog of fatigue in its wake. Heeseung shifted slightly, pulling you onto his lap, and instinctively, you nestled closer, your head resting against his shoulder. He began placing soft, lingering kisses on your neck and shoulder, each touch igniting a sense of safety that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. With every kiss, you felt your eyelids grow heavier, the sound of his heartbeat lulling you into a tranquil state.

In Heeseung’s arms, you felt safe. The chaos of the day faded into the background as you succumbed to the comforting warmth that enveloped you. Your breaths became slower and steadier, and before you knew it, you drifted off into a deep sleep, completely surrendering to the solace of the moment.

“Always so sweet… so precious…” Heeseung murmured, knowing you were asleep. He could always tell by your body language—the way you relaxed against him, how your breathing changed when you finally surrendered to sleep. It reminded him of the time when you had first collapsed in his arms, utterly exhausted and vulnerable. Back then, he had revealed his dark secret, the truth that he was Ghostface, and yet you had still chosen him.

As you slept, Heeseung gently pulled back, carefully rearranging you so that you lay fully against his chest. He laid back on the couch, cradling you against him as he reveled in the moment. He played with your hair, his fingers weaving through the strands, each stroke a reminder—one that you were there, how he would always keep you close.

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Returning to work after a few days of leave felt like stepping into a spotlight you didn’t want to be under. After the attack, you had been on the frontlines of the news, plastered across every screen and newspaper. Now, as you walked into the office, everyone’s eyes followed you. People whispered and pointed, their murmurs barely concealed. It took you back to when you had first survived the original Ghostface years ago—the trauma, the constant attention, the feeling of being both a survivor and a spectacle. Back then, you’d learned that Heeseung had been Ghostface.

After waking up in the hospital, Taehyung had disappeared, and Heeseung never wanted to tell you what really happened after you fainted that night.

That dark chapter of your life had been followed by relentless media attention, to the point that you and Heeseung had spent years living in the secluded hut he had taken you to, just to escape. Slowly, the public interest in your story had faded into just another horrific event in the world’s ever-growing archive. When you returned to public life, there were still whispers, occasional stares from people who recognized your face. But it was manageable. You’d gotten used to it.

Now, though, it felt like history was repeating itself. Seeing your colleagues point, hearing the quiet exchanges behind your back, it all left you feeling a mix of guilt and hopelessness. Why was it always you? Why did the specter of Ghostface still loom over your life, even when you thought you had moved on?

You sat down at your desk and sighed deeply, putting your head down on the cool surface in an attempt to shut out the world. The weight of everything pressed down on you.

“Are you okay?” Taehyun’s voice broke through the fog of your thoughts, and you groaned softly, not ready for conversation.

“I’m okay,” you mumbled, lifting your head slightly to look at him. "I mean, I'll survive… I guess."

Taehyun’s expression was filled with guilt, his usual easygoing nature replaced by something far more solemn. “Yeah, listen… I just wanted to say sorry. If I had just printed those papers myself, this might not have happened.”

The remorse in his voice was palpable, but you shook your head. “It’s totally okay, Taehyun. Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault,” you insisted, trying to sound more certain than you felt.

He hesitated for a moment before nodding, though you could tell he wasn’t fully convinced. "Still… I should’ve been more aware."

You smiled weakly, trying to reassure him despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “Really, it’s not on you.”

You sighed, feeling the weight of Taehyun's guilt as he sat beside you, shoulders hunched, concern etched on his face. "Really, Taehyun, it’s not your fault," you said gently, though a part of you wished none of this had ever happened. "There’s no way you could have known."

He hesitated, still uneasy. "But I feel like if I hadn’t asked you to print those papers, none of this—"

You interrupted, your voice softer now. "Taehyun, you can’t blame yourself. These things… they just happen. It’s like fate or something, always pulling me back into this nightmare." You gave him a small, tired smile, but your words carried a weight you couldn’t fully mask.

Taehyun shifted closer, concern deepening. "But are you really okay? I mean… facing all this again…"

You exhaled shakily, your defenses slipping as the exhaustion of everything you’d been through clawed at you. "Honestly? I’m tired, Taehyun. I thought it was over. Years ago, I saw that white mask for the last time, or at least I thought I did. And now… it’s happening all over again. I don’t know why it always has to be me."

His eyes softened with understanding, and without saying anything, he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. It wasn’t a solution, but in that moment, his presence was enough. "You’re strong," he said quietly, "I know you are. But you don’t have to go through this alone."

The simple statement was enough to make your chest tighten with gratitude. "Thank you, Taehyun," you murmured, leaning into the support he offered, even if just for a brief moment.

After Taehyun left, you sat at your desk, trying to focus, but it was hard to shake the weight of everything that had happened. The office chatter around you felt distant until you heard familiar voices.

Yuna and Karina walked up, both wearing expressions of concern. Yuna was the first to speak. "Hey, how are you holding up?"

You forced a small smile, not wanting to get into it again. "I just… I want to forget for a while, you know?"

They exchanged a look, understanding immediately. Karina offered softly, "We get it. How about you come over to my place after work? Just relax, maybe watch something that isn’t terrifying for once."

You hesitated for only a second before nodding. "Yeah, that sounds good. I could use the distraction."

As they turned to leave, your boss suddenly appeared. Yuna and Karina gave you a quick nod before walking off. Your boss approached carefully, his expression serious yet empathetic.

"I just wanted to say I’m really sorry about everything that happened," he started, his voice low. "If you need more time off, don’t hesitate. You’ve been through a lot."

You appreciated the gesture, but you shook your head. "Thanks, but I can’t. I need the money."

He nodded in understanding, clearly wishing he could offer more, but respecting your decision. "If you change your mind, just let me know."

When work finally ended, you gathered your things, feeling the exhaustion of the day pressing down on you. As you walked through the office, your steps slowed when you passed by Sullyeon’s desk. It had been turned into a small memorial, with flowers, messages, and her picture resting in the center.

You stood there, staring at her smiling face. She didn’t deserve this. The guilt twisted inside of you, your mind filled with haunting questions. If only you could have helped her sooner… would she still be here now?

A quiet sigh escaped your lips, your heart heavy as you tore your eyes away and headed out of the building.

After leaving the building, you were greeted by Yuna and Karina waiting by the car. They both smiled warmly, offering you a much-needed sense of normalcy. The drive to Karina’s house was filled with light chatter, helping to ease some of the tension that had been building inside you all day.

On the way, you shot a quick text to Heeseung, letting him know where you were. He replied almost immediately: Keep your location on.

You sighed softly but responded with a simple Okay, understanding his concern. Heeseung never liked being left in the dark, especially now.

Once you arrived at Karina’s house, the three of you settled in the cozy living room. You sat on the couch, surrounded by blankets and pillows, with a bottle of wine passed between you. Karina picked a random rom-com movie for background noise, but none of you were really paying attention. The conversation flowed easily, and for a little while, it almost felt like nothing was wrong. The laughter, the jokes, the comfort of being with friends—it was soothing, like a balm for your frayed nerves.

But even in that moment, you couldn’t fully shake the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. It was subtle, a creeping sensation of being watched. Your eyes kept darting to the windows, trying to catch something—anything—out of the ordinary. But, every time you looked, there was nothing. Just darkness, an empty street with no signs of life. Yet, your instincts, honed by past encounters, told you something was off. You stood up, interrupting the conversation briefly as you moved toward the windows.

Karina raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Just checking something," you replied quietly, already pulling the curtains closed. You walked from window to window, making sure they were all locked, double-checking the doors, and even ensuring the alarm system was armed. Karina and Yuna didn’t say anything. They knew about your heightened sense of security after everything you had been through. They understood.

Once you finished, you paused in the kitchen, your hand resting on the counter as you peered out one last time through the small window facing the street. Everything looked normal—no movement, no shadows, no sign of anyone lurking. Yet, that feeling in your gut wouldn’t leave.

You sighed, drawing the curtains shut before heading back to the living room. When you returned, Karina gave you a reassuring smile as you sat back down between them.

"Everything okay?" Yuna asked, concern lacing her voice.

"Yeah," you nodded, trying to push away the lingering tension. "Everything’s fine."

After a long evening, you and Yuna finally decided to head home. You both hugged Karina goodbye, thanking her for the night. As Karina stepped back into her doorway, she paused for a moment and looked down the street.

“I didn’t know the Jeons got a van,” she muttered under her breath before closing the door.

You caught the comment, something about it tugging at you. As you looked in the direction she had been staring, you noticed a black van parked a block away. It seemed like an ordinary van, nothing special about it at first glance. But a familiar knot of unease formed in your stomach. Your instincts, sharpened by past experiences, flared up.

"Come on!" Yuna’s voice broke through your thoughts, her hand gently tugging your arm. You let out a breath, nodding as you followed her onto the street. You pushed the feeling away for now. Maybe it was nothing.

Yuna spotted her boyfriend’s car waiting nearby and waved goodbye before getting in. You did the same, waving to her as she left, and then turned to find Heeseung’s car parked a little farther down. The sight of him waiting for you eased the tension in your chest.

You slipped into the passenger seat, the familiar warmth of Heeseung making you feel safe again. "Had fun, angel?" he asked with a soft smile, his eyes briefly meeting yours as he started the engine.

“Yeah,” you replied, managing a smile back at him. The black van lingered in your mind for a moment longer, but as Heeseung drove and the two of you started talking, the knot of tension slowly began to fade. You felt lighter, recounting your evening to him, and his steady presence grounded you as he responded with gentle laughter and comments.

When you both arrived home, Heeseung parked the car, and the two of you made your way to the front door, hand in hand. The cool night air seemed to melt away as soon as you stepped inside the warmth of your home. The moment the door closed behind you, Heeseung wasted no time. He turned toward you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pressed soft kisses along your forehead, your cheeks, and down your neck.

“Hee—stop,” you giggled, trying to gently push him away, though your heart fluttered at the affectionate attention.

He didn’t budge, his lips trailing down your shoulder now as he held you tightly in his arms. “You left me alone all afternoon… without my beautiful, perfect girlfriend,” he murmured against your skin.

You laughed, squirming a little in his grip but not really wanting to get away. “I wasn’t even gone that long.”

Heeseung grinned, pulling back just enough to look at you with that playful glint in his eyes. “Too long for me,” he teased, his hands tracing along your waist as he leaned in to kiss you again. “I’ve been going crazy without you.”

You tried to protest, but your laughter only seemed to egg him on as he leaned in closer, pressing more kisses wherever he could reach. His warm breath tickled your skin, making you giggle uncontrollably, and it wasn’t long before you gave in, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, still laughing, but the smile on your face said otherwise.

“And you love it,” he smirked, finally pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

You and Heeseung were walking hand in hand through the mall, enjoying the leisurely day together. Earlier that morning, when you mentioned wanting to go shopping, Heeseung had simply grabbed his keys, ready to take you wherever you wanted. Now, here he was, holding your shopping bags with his usual laid-back demeanor, though his eyes occasionally darted around the mall, taking in the surroundings.

“I need to go to the bathroom, wait here, I’ll be right back,” you told him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading toward the restroom. Heeseung smiled softly at your kiss, his gaze following you for a moment before he sat down on a nearby bench to wait.

After finishing in the restroom, you walked out, checking your phone as you stepped into the main hall—only to accidentally bump into someone. “Oh, I’m sorry!” you quickly apologized, looking up at the man you’d crashed into.

The guy was surprisingly handsome, and what caught you off guard was just how similar he looked to Heeseung. “It’s quite alright. I should have been paying attention,” he said with an easy smile.

You smiled back politely. “No harm done.”

As you turned to walk away, a look of recognition dawned on his face. “Wait, aren’t you that chick who survived those killers a few years back? Y/N, right?” he asked, his tone a little too casual for the heavy topic he brought up.

You stiffened slightly but nodded. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Man, that’s wild! I remember seeing it all over the news, and then when your face popped up again recently, I was shocked!” he continued, oblivious to your discomfort. “That’s crazy, I can’t even imagine—”

“Yeah, it was… a lot,” you mumbled, trying to make your exit, but he kept walking with you, throwing out more questions.

That’s when you spotted Heeseung, who had already noticed you from across the hall. His face lit up at first, but the moment he saw the guy beside you, his expression turned serious, his body language shifting into something far more protective.

Heeseung stood up from the bench, striding toward you with purpose, his eyes never leaving the stranger by your side. When he reached you, he immediately wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. The gesture was both possessive and protective.

“Is this your boyfriend?” the guy asked, glancing between you and Heeseung.

You could feel how tense Heeseung was against you, the low growls in his throat barely audible, but enough to send a message. “Yeah, listen, it was nice meeting you,” you started, trying to defuse the situation, but before you could finish, Heeseung pulled you with him, effectively ending the conversation.

“And that means we’re done here,” you said firmly over your shoulder, matching Heeseung’s pace as he led you away from the guy.

“Okay, bye!” the man called after you, but the tone in his voice felt forced, as if the friendly façade was slipping.

As you and Heeseung walked away, you glanced back for a second, only to see the guy standing there, staring after you both. His smile had disappeared, replaced by something unreadable before he turned and walked away in the opposite direction.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about him.

Very off.

As you continued walking through the mall with Heeseung, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that crept over you. Something felt off. The buzz of the crowd around you seemed distant, your mind hyper-focused on the unsettling energy lingering in the air. You glanced at Heeseung, hoping it was just your imagination, but his sharp eyes were scanning the surroundings more frequently than before.

“Do you feel that?” you asked quietly, your voice low so only Heeseung could hear. You didn’t want to draw attention, but the tension in your chest was becoming unbearable.

Heeseung didn’t need to ask what you meant. He nodded, his jaw tightening as his hand around yours gripped a little firmer. “Yeah, I feel it,” he muttered, his eyes flicking toward the corners of the mall, searching for something—or someone—out of place. His body language shifted, becoming more alert, his protective instincts fully kicked in.

Without needing to say another word, the two of you picked up the pace, your steps quickening as you both began to move in sync, making your way toward the exit in a quiet rush. Every few seconds, you found yourself glancing over your shoulder, half-expecting to see something lurking just out of sight.

Heeseung was on edge too, his gaze constantly darting to the entrances and exits around you, always aware. His body was tense, as though he was ready to fight or flee at a moment’s notice. That same eerie sensation, the one that had haunted you for years, had returned—a feeling that something or someone was watching you.

When you finally reached the exit, relief washed over you momentarily as you stepped into the open air of the parking lot. The world outside felt quieter, but the anxiety hadn’t left you. The two of you made a beeline for the car, and once you were safely inside, Heeseung wasted no time starting the engine.

As you and Heeseung sped away from the mall, miles of road stretched between you and the unsettling encounter. The tension slowly began to lift inside the car, but a lingering unease remained. Heeseung's hand never left yours, his grip reassuring as the city passed by in a blur.

Back at the mall, a man walked out of the main entrance, his face set in a calm, emotionless mask. His steps were steady, deliberate. He paused just outside the doors, scanning the parking lot before slipping his hands into his pockets and walking forward.

A few steps later, another figure appeared, almost out of nowhere, falling into step beside him. The second man moved with a quiet confidence, his face equally unreadable. Without a word, the two of them began walking in sync, their movements perfectly matched.

They walked as if they had done this many times before, their presence barely noticeable to the crowd bustling around them. The pair exchanged no words, no glances—just an eerie, silent understanding that hung between them.

Something was coming, something dark, and it was creeping closer with every step they took.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

The next morning, you arrived at work with a heavy heart, the events of the past few days weighing on you like a lead blanket. The first thing you did was place the flowers you had bought that morning by Sullyeon’s desk. A burst of color against the stark reality of the empty space, they were a tribute to her memory, a reminder of the life she once had. You sighed deeply, allowing yourself a moment to remember her before turning away to your own desk.

The morning passed smoothly enough, a welcome distraction from the turmoil in your mind. Heeseung even stopped by with lunch, his smile brightening your day. He leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead, a gesture that momentarily made everything feel normal again. But just as he left, your phone rang, breaking the calm.

An unknown caller.

You froze, your stomach twisting in knots. The office was relatively quiet, a few coworkers dozing at their desks, lost in dreams. A chill ran down your spine as you accepted the call.

“Hello?” you said, your voice steadier than you felt.

“Miss me?” came a deep, familiar voice, sending a jolt of recognition through you. The last time you heard it, it had haunted your nightmares.

You closed your eyes tightly, trying to block it out. “Not at all,” you replied, your heart racing.

“Awww, that’s not very nice. After all, I have missed you!” The tone was teasing, mocking.

“Cut the bullshit. I know this isn’t you. You are dead,” you said, your anger rising.

“Correct. It isn’t me. Seems like you knew more than you let on to the press. Naughty,” he said, the malice dripping from his words.

“Who are you? What do you want?” you demanded, your grip tightening around your phone.

“What I want? Well, it varies,” he replied, his voice smooth and sinister.

“The fuck do you mean?”

“You’ll eventually see… for now, I just wanted to talk.”

You were about to stand up when he added, “If you alert anyone, I will kill Sullyeon.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What…?”

Just then, a notification pinged on your phone. You glanced down, your heart dropping as you saw a picture: Sullyeon, tied to a chair, bruised and bloodied, fear etched across her face.

You gasped, bringing the phone back to your ear. “Sullyeon’s alive?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“Yes! Why don’t you say hello?” he said, and you heard the rustling on the other end before Sullyeon’s familiar voice broke through, desperate and terrified. “Help! Please help me! I don’t want to die!”

Panic surged through you. “Get it?” he asked, a sickening satisfaction in his tone. You nodded, remembering he couldn’t see you. “Yes,” you managed to say, your heart racing.

“Good. Now be good and leave the building. Go to the parking lot,” he instructed.

“Why?” you asked, dread pooling in your stomach.

“Because we want to say hello.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving you staring at your phone in horror. You were frozen, a whirlwind of emotions crashing over you. Fear, guilt, and a desperate need to save Sullyeon flooded your thoughts. You had to make a choice—stay safe and keep quiet, or risk everything for her.

Then the words echoed in your mind: we.

He had said we.

There was more than one.

Panic gripped you as the reality set in. This was not just a game of cat and mouse; this was a calculated attack with multiple players involved. You carefully stood up, your heart pounding as you grabbed your bag, and started making your way toward the parking lot.

Just as you stepped outside, you spotted Yuna and Karina getting out of Karina’s car. Relief washed over you momentarily, but it was quickly replaced by dread when you realized the danger they were in.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Yuna called, her face lighting up with a smile.

“Just… lunch,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“But lunch just ended?” Karina said, raising an eyebrow, suspicion creeping into her voice.

You were about to come up with another excuse when your blood ran cold. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure in a black cloak and mask stealthily approaching from behind Yuna and Karina.

“Watch out!” you screamed, your voice breaking with urgency. But it was too late.

In an instant, you watched in horror as the knife in Ghostface's hand plunged into Karina’s back. She let out a muffled scream, her body crumpling to the ground.

Yuna spun around, wide-eyed and terrified, but before she could scream, another ghostface appeared from behind her, covering her mouth with a gloved hand.

Two Ghostfaces. You had been right.

All you could do was watch in horror as Karina collapsed, blood pooling around her, and Yuna stood frozen, a knife pressed against her throat.

“This was unscripted… we didn’t foresee that you two would show up,” the Ghostface who had stabbed Karina said, his voice dripping with amusement. He then turned to you, “Come here.”

Your heart raced as you felt a surge of desperation. “No, no, no,” you stammered, instinctively clutching your stomach.

“Come now, or I’ll kill dear Yuna here,” the second Ghostface threatened, his grip tightening on her.

You swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “If I come… will you leave Yuna and Karina alone?” you asked, your voice shaky yet firm.

The two masked figures exchanged a glance before nodding in agreement. “Yes,” one of them finally said, his tone deceptively calm.

Taking a shaky breath, you began to move toward them, each step feeling like a lead weight on your chest. The first Ghostface didn’t appreciate how slow you were walking; he reached out and grabbed your arm harshly, pulling you toward a black van parked nearby.

The same black van you kept seeing.

Your mind raced as he yanked open the door and grabbed something from inside. Before you could react, he swung the back of a gun against your head, and everything went black as you were knocked out cold and thrown into the van.

“Hurry up,” he called, his voice cold and commanding. He cocked the gun as he climbed into the driver’s seat, eyes scanning the parking lot as he prepared to drive away.

The second Ghostface quickly threw Yuna onto the ground beside Karina’s limp body. He climbed into the van, slamming the door behind him as the van peeled out of the parking lot.

“You assholes!! Murderers! Kidnappers!” Yuna screamed, scrambling to Karina’s side. Desperately, she fumbled for her phone, trying to call for help.

Laying still, your unconscious body sprawled on the cold, hard floor of the van, the second Ghostface took advantage of your vulnerable state. He rummaged through the shadows of the cramped interior, his movements swift and practiced. Pulling out a length of rope, he began tying your wrists together, the coarse fibers digging into your skin as he secured the knots tightly.

“Make sure they’re tight; she is too slippery,” the first Ghostface said, his voice commanding.

“I know, I know,” the second one replied, a hint of irritation in his tone. He expertly bound your legs, ensuring there was no chance of escape. Your body, limp and unresisting, was easily maneuverable under his hands. The pressure was overwhelming, but you remained unconscious, unable to register the sensation of the ropes digging into your flesh.

With your limbs secured, the second Ghostface reached for a sack, pulling it over your head and plunging you into darkness.

After a moment, the second Ghostface grabbed your bag from the floor of the van, rifling through its contents with an air of urgency. He pulled out your phone, the screen illuminating the dim space as he turned it over in his hands.

“Remember the code?” the first Ghostface asked.

“Of course I do,” the other replied confidently. He quickly unlocked the device, navigating through your apps with ease.

As he located the location settings, he turned off your tracking feature, ensuring that no one would be able to trace you. With a swift motion, he then powered down your phone entirely, the screen fading to black.

“Perfect,” he said, tossing the phone back into the bag before tossing it aside.

The two of them exchanged glances, a sense of satisfaction washing over them as they finished their preparations.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

The news of your disappearance spread like wildfire, igniting panic and despair in the hearts of those who cared about you. Your family was in shambles, frantically calling and messaging anyone who might have seen you. Your colleagues whispered anxiously in hushed tones, casting worried glances at each other. Your friends, were desperately trying to get the police to take action.

But amid the chaos, Heeseung was a tempest of emotion, sitting in the living room of your shared space. The once-cozy area was now a wreck, furniture overturned and scattered belongings reflecting the turmoil raging within him. He felt like a caged animal, raw anger boiling beneath the surface.

Ddongsik, was safe at Sunoo’s house, and for that, Heeseung was grateful, but the emptiness of the space only amplified his sense of isolation.

He had promised to protect you, to keep you safe from the horrors of the past that had once haunted your lives. And now? Now he felt like a failure. The weight of that failure pressed heavily on his chest, making each breath feel like a struggle. He could hear the echo of his own heartbeat, a relentless reminder that time was slipping away.

His mind raced as he stood up, clenching his fists at his sides. He needed a plan—he couldn’t just sit idly by while you were out there, in danger. There was only one thing to do.

He made his way to the mess on the floor, searching for his phone. As he picked it up, his gaze hardened with determination. He opened his contacts, scrolling until he found the name he needed. Pressing the phone to his ear, he breathed heavily, willing the other person to pick up.

“Pick up,” he muttered under his breath, anxiety coiling tightly in his stomach.

Finally, the call connected. “Get ready. I need you,” he said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. There was no time for niceties or explanations; he ended the call almost as quickly as it began.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Heeseung turned and stormed out of the house, his footsteps echoing in the silence. He jumped into his car, the engine roaring to life as he gripped the wheel with fierce determination. He had somewhere to visit before he came for you.

As he drove off, the night swallowed him in darkness, but a single flame of resolve burned brightly within him. He would not fail you again.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

The hospital room was heavy with tension, the sterile smell of antiseptic mingling with the palpable anxiety that hung in the air. Karina lay unconscious in the bed, her face pale and peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos that surrounded her. She was hooked up to various machines, beeping rhythmically, a constant reminder of the fragility of life.

In one corner of the room, Yuna and Taehyun stood, their voices raised as they argued over what to do about your whereabouts.

“What do you mean we can’t just wait? We need to go to the police again!” Yuna insisted, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Her eyes were red-rimmed, tears threatening to spill over as she glanced at her friend lying in the hospital bed. “We can’t just sit here and hope for the best!”

Taehyun ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. “And what do you think will happen if we go to the police again? They’ll just brush us off! We need to figure this out ourselves!” His voice was laced with desperation, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Figure it out how, Taehyun? By yelling at each other? By making each other feel worse?” Yuna shot back, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. “We need to be doing something productive, not arguing!”

Before Taehyun could respond, the door swung open, and a couple of nurses entered, their expressions a mix of professionalism and concern. The tension in the room was so thick that it felt like they had walked into a minefield.

“Excuse me, but we can’t have this kind of arguing in here,” one of the nurses said firmly, glancing at Karina and then back at Yuna and Taehyun. “You need to keep your voices down. This is a hospital, and your friend needs to rest.”

Yuna and Taehyun exchanged glances, both realizing that their emotions were getting the better of them. They took a step back, the heat of the moment cooling as they recognized the seriousness of the situation.

“Sorry,” Yuna mumbled, looking down at the floor, shame creeping in as she felt the weight of her worry for Karina.

Taehyun nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “We’re just… worried about her,” he admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

The nurses moved around the room, checking Karina’s vitals, their movements efficient and calm. One of them smiled reassuringly at Yuna and Taehyun. “We’re doing everything we can for her. She’s a fighter, and she’s in good hands. Just try to stay calm, okay?”

As the nurses continued their work, Yuna took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “We need to think of a plan,” she said, her voice quieter now but still filled with determination. “We can’t let this go on. We have to find Y/N.”

Taehyun's gaze drifted back to Karina, lying unconscious and fragile in her hospital bed. “I know we need a plan, but right now… all we can do is hope that Y/N is still alive.” he finally said, his voice low but steady.

Yuna bit her lip, fighting back tears as she nodded slowly. “I know,” she replied, her voice trembling. “I just… I can’t shake this feeling that something terrible is happening to her. What if they…”

“Stop,” Taehyun interjected, shaking his head. “We can’t think like that. We have to believe she’s okay. We have to believe she’s out there fighting to come back to us.”

Yuna sniffed, tears spilling over her cheeks. “But what if she’s not? What if she’s… trapped or worse?” Her voice broke, the fear spilling out.

“I can’t even entertain that thought,” Taehyun replied, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “Y/N is strong. She’s faced Ghostface before. She’s survived this kind of nightmare. She’s still fighting, I know it. We just have to keep hoping and… and doing whatever we can to help.”

Yuna wiped her tears away, her expression a mixture of sadness and determination. “You’re right."

“Let’s figure out what we can do next,” Taehyun said, his tone resolute. “We need to reach out to everyone who might have seen something or knows something. There’s got to be a lead somewhere.”

Yuna nodded, taking a deep breath as she composed herself. “Okay."

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

You blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the lingering fog of unconsciousness. The pain in the back of your head throbbed like a drum, making it difficult to focus. Panic began to rise within you as you realized you couldn’t move. Your wrists and ankles were bound tightly, the ropes biting into your skin as you struggled against them.

The darkness enveloped you, except for the faint glow of the moon filtering through a broken window, casting eerie shadows across the room. You shivered, the chill seeping into your clothes, which were inadequate for the cold air. Your heart raced as you caught a whiff of something metallic and unsettling—a stark contrast to the musty scent of the space. Looking down, you noticed the floor beneath you was stained with dry blood, and the realization made your stomach churn.

Desperate to understand your surroundings, you turned your head, scanning the dimly lit room. That’s when you saw her. Your heart dropped. Sullyeon was lying just a few feet away from you, unconscious and vulnerable. Fear gripped you as you tried to call out to her, but your voice was muffled by the gag that restrained you. Panic coursed through your veins as you wriggled in a futile attempt to free yourself.

“Sullyeon!” you managed to whimper, hoping that somehow your voice would penetrate the haze of her unconsciousness. You struggled to get closer, but the ropes held you firmly in place. You could see the bruises forming on her skin, the remnants of whatever violence had occurred before you both ended up here.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain calm despite the rising tide of fear. You needed to wake her up; she needed to know she wasn’t alone. You tried again, making sounds that were half whimpers, half grunts, but she remained unresponsive.

“Please, Sullyeon,” you begged silently, your eyes darting around the room for anything that could help. There had to be a way out of this nightmare.

As you shifted slightly, trying to get her attention, the memories of the phone call flooded back—Ghostface, the threats, the urgency. A cold dread settled in your stomach. You couldn’t let despair take hold. You had to stay strong, for both of you.

With a sudden determination, you began to rock your body back and forth, hoping to dislodge the ropes binding you. If you could just get free, you could help Sullyeon and find a way out of this place.

With a sudden jolt, your efforts to rock the chair back and forth became too intense. The chair tipped over, sending you sprawling onto the cold, hard floor. A sharp pain shot through your side, and you groaned, the impact making your head spin.

In a frantic effort, you managed to pull the gag from your mouth, feeling the coarse fabric scrape against your lips. The taste of the cloth was metallic, and you spat it out, your mind racing with thoughts of escape. You took a moment to steady yourself, but before you could formulate a plan, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

As you looked up, your heart sank.

Two figures loomed over you, their silhouettes barely illuminated by the faint light filtering through the broken window. Instinctively, you narrowed your eyes, fueled by anger and a desperate need for escape.

“Look who’s awake!” one of them exclaimed, a mocking cheerfulness in his voice that sent a chill down your spine. You could feel the smirk behind the ghostly mask.

“Sorry for the mess, it’s a rent,” the other one chimed in, a tone of faux apology lacing his words.

“We got it for free!” the first one added, a laugh bubbling up from beneath the mask.

You felt your stomach churn as the harsh reality of your situation settled in. They had been joking about this—about the chaos and pain they were causing. You glared at them, the fire of your hatred burning in your chest.

Now that you were up close, you noticed the details you had missed before. The lean Ghostface wore a mask that seemed almost sad, its eyes downturned, as if it were mourning something. The other Ghostface, however, wore a bloodied mask, the crimson streaks an unsettling contrast against the white surface. Each mask told a story of violence and despair, one of them hiding behind a facade of sorrow while the other relished in the brutality.

“Let me go!” you spat, your voice hoarse and filled with venom. “You think this is funny?”

The taller one chuckled, leaning closer to you. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s not about the laughter. It’s about the thrill. And you… you’re the main event.”

The sad one stepped forward, a strange glimmer of something almost empathetic flickering behind the sad mask. “We didn’t want to hurt you, but you know how it is. This is just business.”

“Business?” you repeated, incredulous. “You’re monsters!”

“Monsters?” the bloodied one echoed, tilting his head. “That’s rich coming from you. You think you’re the victim here?"

Your heart raced as they loomed over you, their words slicing through the air like a knife. “What do you want from me?” you demanded, determination mingling with fear.

“Oh, we want you to play,” the bloodied Ghostface said with a sinister smile. “A little game of cat and mouse. And you, my dear, are the mouse.”

Before you could respond, they both lunged forward, grabbing you by the arms and hauling you back to your feet, forcing you to stand despite the pain shooting through your body.

“Welcome to the show,” the sad-masked Ghostface said, his tone almost playful, sending another wave of dread through you. “You see, you’re not the only one who’s been through something traumatic. It’s your turn to entertain us.”

You felt your stomach drop as the implications of his words settled in. This wasn’t just about you; it was a twisted game for their enjoyment, and you were the unwilling participant.

“Let Sullyeon go!” you shouted, your voice ringing with desperation. “She hasn’t done anything!”

The bloodied mask ghostface stepped closer, his tone mocking. “Oh, but we’ve got plans for her too. Just sit tight. The fun is about to begin.”

They began to drag you toward the grimey window the room, and you searched for a way out. You knew you had to think fast. The stakes had never been higher, and your survival depended on your wits and strength.

You glanced around the dimly lit room, searching for anything you could use to your advantage. The moonlight streamed in through the broken window, illuminating the remnants of what looked like a former living space—a few scattered pieces of furniture, a shattered mirror, and remnants of something that looked like a previous struggle.

You felt the blood drain from your face as the bloodied-masked Ghostface dragged Sullyeon’s unconscious body across the forest floor. “No, no, no!” you gasped, panic surging through you. You struggled against the ropes binding you to the chair, but it was no use.

The view sent chills down your spine—the back of the abandoned house opened up to a dense forest, but it was the graveyard that made your heart drop. Rows of crooked tombstones jutted out of the ground, silhouetted against the night sky.

“Front row tickets!” the sad-masked Ghostface chuckled darkly, leaning against you. You opened your mouth to ask what he meant, but your words caught in your throat as you watched the bloodied-masked one throw Sullyeon to the forest floor like a discarded rag doll.

“Leave her alone!” you shouted, voice trembling as he cut the ropes binding her legs, leaving her wrists tied. The next moment, he doused her with a bucket of cold water, and you watched in horror as she sputtered awake, confusion flashing across her face. In a panic, she bolted upright, and ran.

“Run! Sullyeon, run!” you screamed, your voice hoarse with fear, but it fell on deaf ears. The bloodied mask Ghostface waited a moment, a sinister grin etched on his mask, before he took off after her, his movements smooth.

You felt helpless, chained to the chair as you watched Sullyeon sprint into the night, desperation fueling her flight. But he was faster, and as you screamed for her to escape, your heart sank further with each agonizing second.

“No! Sullyeon!” you screamed, desperate to reach her, but the ropes only dug deeper into your wrists as you struggled against your restraints. “Leave her alone! We had a deal!”

But your cries fell on deaf ears as the bloodied-masked Ghostface swiftly caught up to her. You watched in horror as he plunged the knife into her back. “No!” you screamed again, but the sound only echoed back at you in the empty night.

Sullyeon collapsed onto the graveyard floor, her body going limp. “Sullyeon!” you cried, tears streaming down your face as the ghostface loomed over her. He dragged her lifeless form toward a freshly dug grave, and you felt your heart shatter as he threw her down into the dark hole.

“No! You assholes! You liars!” you screamed, the weight of the loss crushing down on you. “You promised!”

The sad-masked Ghostface dragged you away from the window, and you thrashed against his grip. “Easy there, sweetcheeks,” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. “We used her as an example for you. For now, we won’t hurt you, but only if you behave.”

He pulled the gag back over your mouth, tying it tightly around your head as you glared defiantly at him, tears blurring your vision. “Now stay put,” he said, patting your cheek as if you were a pet. You watched him retreat, the door clicking shut behind him.

You screamed and cursed through the gag, frustration boiling over, but the futility of your situation crashed over you like a wave. Hours felt like days as you lay there in the darkness, staring up at the moon through the window, shivering from the chill that seeped into your bones.

It was too late. You had failed to save Sullyeon, and the weight of that reality hung heavy in the air, suffocating you with despair.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

As you sat in the chair, tied and gagged, you found yourself slipping in and out of sleep, the exhaustion taking its toll on your body. The pain in your wrists from the rough ropes and the ache in your head from the earlier blow pulsed rhythmically with each breath. Each time you closed your eyes, darkness enveloped you, bringing a brief respite from your grim reality, but it never lasted long before the cold or hunger stirred you back to consciousness.

When the sun finally crested the horizon, its light streamed through the broken window, casting soft beams across the room. You groaned, your voice muffled against the gag, as you blinked against the brightness, still feeling the remnants of your nightmares. Alone. The room felt empty, a stark contrast to the chaos that had consumed your life just days ago.

Hours dragged on, and the sunlight slowly faded, giving way to a dimming sky. You had no sense of time, but the shadows creeping along the walls told you the sun had sunk low, and with it, your hope flickered like a dying flame. Your stomach grumbled painfully, a reminder of your hunger that gnawed at you, sharper with each passing moment. You wished for water, for anything to quell the parched feeling in your throat.

As the house settled into quiet, an eerie stillness enveloped you. The only sounds were the creaking of the old structure and the rustle of the wind outside. You wondered if you were alone most of the time in this desolate place. Was there no one watching over you? Or were they simply waiting for the right moment to return?

Your heart raced as you listened intently for any sounds in the house. The stillness was unnerving, and after what felt like an eternity of waiting, you slowly began nudging the chair you were tied to, grunting with the effort. You strained against the ropes, desperate for freedom, and with a sudden shift, the chair tipped over, sending you crashing to the floor. A small voice of victory escaped your lips as you fell, exhilaration flooding through you.

You quickly quieted down, ears straining for any response, but silence enveloped you. Cautiously, you looked around the room and your gaze fell on a shard of broken glass scattered on the floor. You didn’t know if it was from the window or a mirror, but it didn’t matter. It was your only chance.

With shaky hands, you grabbed the glass, carefully positioning it against the ropes binding your wrists. You began to saw back and forth, your heart pounding as you focused on freeing yourself. Time became a blur, each agonizing second stretching out as you desperately worked at the ropes. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you felt the tightness give way enough to slip your hands free. You quickly pulled the gag from your mouth, relief flooding over you as you gasped in the stale air, smacking your dry lips.

No time to celebrate. You grabbed the glass again, using it to cut the ropes around your legs before standing unsteadily. The hunger and exhaustion fought against you, but adrenaline propelled you forward as you made your way to the door. You pulled down the handle and pushed it open, peeking out into the empty hallway.

Cautiously, you tiptoed down the corridor, heart racing, until you heard a front door slam shut. Panic gripped you as the voices of the two Ghostfaces echoed through the house. You quickly scanned your surroundings and spotted a half-open door nearby. You slipped inside, barely breathing as you listened.

You glanced around the room, taking in the dimly lit space before your eyes landed on an open window. Freedom lay just outside.

You climbed out of the window, carefully navigating the shards of glass that crunched underfoot as you made your way onto the roof of the veranda. The cool night air hit your face, a stark contrast to the stifling darkness inside. Just as you steadied yourself, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway, making your heart race. You ducked down, pressing your body against the sloped roof, praying they wouldn’t see you.

Voices erupted from inside, panic lacing their words. “She’s gone!” one shouted, the urgency in his tone sending chills down your spine. “Where did she go?” another replied, their frantic footsteps pounding against the floor. “He’s gonna kill us!”

You knew you had to keep moving, and carefully, you made your way to the edge of the roof. Peeking over, you assessed the ground below; it was a good drop, but you didn’t have time to think about it.

Suddenly, you saw the sad-masked Ghostface poking his head out of the window, his finger pointing directly at you. “There she is!” he yelled, and your heart dropped into your stomach.

In a panic, you leaped off the roof, hitting the ground hard. Pain shot through your legs, but you didn’t stop to assess the damage. You forced yourself to your feet and sprinted away from the house, the adrenaline coursing through you.

“Get her!” you heard behind you. “She’s running!” the voice filled with a twisted excitement.

You sprinted past the graveyard, heart pounding as you raced into the thick embrace of the forest. Branches whipped at your face and legs, but you didn’t stop. You had to keep moving, had to put distance between you and the twisted faces of your captors.

You had to escape. You had to survive.

You pushed deeper into the forest, branches clawing at your arms and legs as you ran. The dense canopy overhead blocked out most of the moonlight, casting the woods into a near-complete darkness that was both disorienting and comforting. You had a good head start, but you could still hear their footsteps crashing through the underbrush behind you. The sounds grew louder, closer, and dread pooled in your stomach.

The forest was a double-edged sword; the thick trees and foliage offered you cover but also limited your visibility and speed. You had to be careful not to trip over roots or lose your bearings. Every time you heard a twig snap or a branch break, panic surged through you. They were hunting you, and every moment counted.

You darted around a massive oak tree, momentarily hidden from view, and pressed your back against its rough bark, trying to catch your breath. You could hear them yelling to each other, their voices echoing through the trees, frustration evident in their shouts. “She went this way!” one called, his tone filled with a mix of anger and eagerness.

You took a moment to listen, heart racing, hoping that they would miss you. The darkness felt heavy around you, and you tried to calm your racing thoughts. You had to think strategically. If they were coming from behind, then you needed to move laterally—find a way to confuse them.

As you carefully peeked around the tree, you spotted a narrow path weaving through the underbrush, leading deeper into the forest. Taking a deep breath, you made a decision. You would have to take the risk.

You slipped away from the tree and sprinted down the path, forcing your legs to keep moving despite the exhaustion that was beginning to creep in. You could hear the muffled sounds of their pursuit behind you, but the dense trees began to obscure their voices.

You focused on the path ahead, your heart pounding in your ears, urging you to go faster. The moonlight broke through the canopy occasionally, illuminating your way and giving you just enough light to navigate the twists and turns of the forest.

You pushed yourself, heart racing, as you dodged branches and ducked under low-hanging limbs. You didn’t know where the path led, but it had to be better than staying in the open. You needed to find a place to hide—somewhere they couldn’t reach you.

In the distance, you heard the unmistakable sounds of footsteps growing closer, but you were determined not to let them catch you. You had to survive. You would fight for your life.

You were pushing yourself to keep moving, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your heart raced as you tried to look behind you, desperate to gauge how close they were. That was the exact moment your foot caught on a root hidden beneath the leaves. You tumbled forward, unable to regain your balance, and fell down a steep ravine, the world spinning as you plummeted.

The impact was jarring. You groaned in pain, your wrist twisting awkwardly beneath you as you landed hard on the rocky ground. Pain shot through your arm, and you instinctively clutched at it, biting back a scream. Panic surged as you glanced up, the sound of your pursuer's footsteps growing louder.

Peering through the dim light, you caught sight of the sad-masked Ghostface peering over the edge of the ravine, a sinister smile painted on his mask. "I found you," he said, his voice dripping with a twisted satisfaction.

Fear washed over you, igniting a primal instinct to survive. You screamed, the sound echoing in the hollow of the ravine, before you scrambled to your feet, pain radiating from your wrist but ignoring it in the rush of adrenaline. You could hear him chuckling above, but you didn’t have time to think about that.

You ran again, the ground uneven beneath your feet, struggling to navigate the rocks and brush. The ravine was deeper than you had thought, and as you ran, your breath came in ragged gasps, each inhalation laced with desperation. The darkness felt suffocating, but you forced yourself to focus on finding a way out.

The sound of footsteps echoed behind you, their rhythm growing closer. “You can’t escape!” the sad-masked Ghostface taunted, his voice mocking. You didn’t dare look back; you just ran, hoping that the terrain would slow him down.

Just ahead, you spotted a narrow path leading up the opposite side of the ravine. It was steep, but it was your only chance. You pushed yourself harder, legs burning as you climbed, using the rocks and roots for leverage. You had to get to the top before he reached you.

With every ounce of strength, you finally reached the edge, pulling yourself up and scrambling onto solid ground. You turned to look back, panting heavily, heart racing. The sad-masked Ghostface stood at the edge of the ravine, frustration evident in his stance, but he was still trying to find a way down.

You took a moment to catch your breath, scanning your surroundings for any potential escape routes. You needed to keep moving. You had to stay one step ahead.

You would find a way out. You had to.

You ducked behind a thick tree, heart pounding in your chest as you leaned against the rough bark. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself as you peeked around the trunk, scanning for any sign of the sad-masked Ghostface. Relief flooded over you when you saw that he was no longer at the top of the ravine. It seemed for a moment that you had escaped.

The forest around you was eerily quiet, a stillness that felt both comforting and unsettling. You laid your head back against the tree, allowing yourself a moment to breathe. Your wrist throbbed painfully, a reminder of your fall, but the fear of being caught kept you from fully assessing the damage.

As you gathered your thoughts and tried to prepare for your next move, you heard nothing—no footsteps, no voices, nothing. The silence wrapped around you like a shroud, and you began to consider moving again, to find a safer place to hide.

Just as you were about to step out from behind the tree, a sudden chill ran down your spine. You glanced up, and to your horror, two figures emerged from behind the trees directly in front of you. Both Ghostfaces stepped into view, their masks eerily expressionless but the glint of malice in their eyes unmistakable.

“How?” you shouted, your voice shaking with disbelief and fear. You hadn’t heard them approaching at all.

The two of them exchanged glances, a silent communication that sent dread pooling in your stomach. Before you could react, they lunged at you simultaneously. Panic surged through you, and you ducked to the side just in time to avoid the first swipe of a knife.

You stumbled backward, your heart racing as you searched for a way to escape. You darted to the left, narrowly avoiding a second strike, but you felt a sharp tug at your shirt as one of them grabbed you. You twisted in their grip, desperate to break free, but the other Ghostface was closing in fast.

“Get away from me!” you shouted, adrenaline fueling your struggle as you fought against the grip tightening around your arms.

Just as you thought you might break free, you caught a glimpse of the knife glinting in the moonlight. The sight sent a wave of terror through you, and you kicked out with all your strength, managing to break free from the hold of one of them. You turned to run, the fear propelling you forward as you dashed into the dense underbrush.

Branches whipped against your arms and legs, but you pressed on, knowing you couldn’t stop. The sounds of their pursuit echoed behind you, taunts mixing with the rustling of leaves and snapping twigs as they followed closely. The forest felt alive, every sound amplifying the danger that lurked in the shadows.

“Keep running!” one of them shouted, laughter tinged with malice. “You’re just making this more fun!”

You knew you had to find a way to outsmart them, to lose them in the twisting paths of the forest. You pushed your aching body to its limits, desperation giving you strength as you darted through the trees, your only thought to survive.

You pushed yourself through the underbrush, every instinct screaming at you to keep moving. The adrenaline coursed through your veins, sharpening your senses as you spotted a thick bush up ahead. You dove behind it just as you heard the crunch of leaves behind you.

“They’re getting slower,” you muttered under your breath, your heart racing. You knew that if you could just outsmart them for a moment, you might buy yourself some time.

As they drew nearer, you grabbed a handful of small stones scattered on the ground and hurled them toward the right, creating a loud clatter. Instantly, the two Ghostfaces turned their attention in that direction. Seizing the moment, you dashed to the left, weaving through the trees and thick underbrush.

“Split up!” you heard one of them shout, and you felt a surge of hope. If they were separated, you could evade them more easily.

But as you ducked under branches and maneuvered around roots, you could hear them regaining their ground. The forest felt like a maze, and you used every trick you could think of to keep them at bay. You grabbed a low-hanging branch and swung it toward one of them as he approached, hitting him hard enough to knock him off balance. He stumbled back, but the other was still closing in fast.

“Get her!” he shouted, lunging at you with the knife. You barely dodged his swipe, feeling the cold air rush past as the blade narrowly missed you.

You picked up a nearby rock and hurled it at him, hitting his shoulder. “Hey! Watch where you’re throwing that!” He cursed, and that moment of surprise was enough to buy you a few precious seconds. You dashed deeper into the woods, panting heavily, but you could hear the two of them coordinating their chase.

But as the chase continued, you could feel your strength waning. Each time you narrowly avoided their attacks, they managed to graze you, leaving cuts on your arms and torso. Your shirt soaked through with blood, but you pressed on, driven by the need to survive.

Eventually, you reached a clearing with a thick tree trunk at its center. Thinking quickly, you ducked behind it, hoping they would run past you. The moment they did, you bolted from your hiding spot, adrenaline pushing you forward once more.

But just as you thought you might escape, you turned to see the other Ghostface emerge from the other side of the clearing, blocking your path. Panic surged through you as you realized you were surrounded.

“Gotcha!” one of them laughed, and before you could react, they lunged at you. You fought back with everything you had, kicking and screaming as you tried to break free. But their combined strength overwhelmed you.

They tackled you to the ground, pinning you down. You struggled, but it was no use; they were too strong, and exhaustion was creeping in fast. As they restrained you, you felt the sharp prick of a knife close to your throat, and your body froze in fear.

“Stop moving, or we’ll make this much worse,” the bloodied Ghostface warned, his voice low and dangerous.

With one final effort, you tried to twist away, but it only earned you a sharp jab to the side. Pain shot through you, and the world began to spin.

“Just relax,” the sad-masked Ghostface said, his tone almost mocking as he tightened his grip. “You’ll be out of here in no time.”

You were outnumbered and outmatched. The last thing you saw was the glint of a knife above you before everything faded to black as they knocked you out cold.

When you regained consciousness, it was in a haze. You met with the dim light filtering through the broken windows of the living room. The room was eerily quiet except for the sound of your labored breathing and the faint creaks of the old house settling around you.

The cold floor beneath you sent shivers through your body. You tried to move, but the ropes binding your wrists and ankles were tight, digging into your skin with each futile attempt to wriggle free. Panic rose within you as you recalled the last moments of your freedom before they had caught you again.

As your vision cleared, you spotted the two Ghostfaces nearby, their masks glinting ominously in the low light. The sad-masked one leaned against the wall, arms crossed, while the other one paced back and forth like a caged animal.

“Not letting you out of our sight,” the sad-masked one said, a sinister grin hidden behind the mask.

“No glass now to cut yourself loose,” the other added, his voice low and mocking.

You glared at them, anger bubbling beneath your fear. “You won’t get away with this!” you spat, your voice hoarse and weak.

The pacing Ghostface stopped and turned to you, tilting his head as if considering your words. “Oh, but we already have,” he said, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “You’re all ours now."

The weight of his words settled heavily on your chest. You had no idea how much time had passed since your abduction or if anyone was even searching for you anymore. You felt utterly alone, but you couldn’t let them see your fear.

“I won’t give up,” you replied defiantly, though your voice quivered.

The sad-masked Ghostface chuckled softly. “That’s the spirit! But you might want to reconsider your chances. It’s just the two of us now, and we’re not afraid to make it more… interesting.”

You swallowed hard, feeling dread wash over you as they exchanged glances, their twisted excitement palpable. Desperation clawed at your insides. You needed to think of a way out, to use whatever time you had before they decided to make good on their threats.

The room felt stifling, the ropes around your limbs a constant reminder of your captivity. You started to shift your wrists, trying to find any weakness in the bonds. If you could just loosen them enough, maybe you could break free.

As you moved, the sad-masked Ghostface stepped closer, watching you intently. “What’s the matter? Trying to escape? You really think you can get away from us?”

You froze, your heart racing as he crouched down beside you, his mask mere inches from your face. “You should know by now that we always win.”

You locked eyes with him, steeling yourself against the fear that threatened to overwhelm you. “We’ll see about that,” you challenged, even as the weight of your reality pressed heavily upon you.

The pacing Ghostface resumed his movements, and as you carefully continued to twist your wrists, you felt the slightest give in the ropes. Hope ignited within you. You just had to buy time until you could get loose.

The tension in the room escalated as the two Ghostfaces began to argue amongst themselves. The bloodied masked one was clearly furious, his voice low and threatening as he paced back and forth. The sad-masked one stood there, arms crossed, seemingly unfazed by his partner’s anger.

When they turned their attention back to you, and the sad-masked one approached, tilting his head with a curious yet predatory look. “Let’s play a little game, shall we?” he said, leaning closer. “Tell us about the first Ghostface. Is he alive? Do you know where he is?”

You stared back defiantly, refusing to answer. His questions felt like bait, and you wouldn’t take it.

Frustrated, the bloodied Ghostface stepped in, his tone turning accusatory. “What about the second Ghostface? Taehyung! What happened to him?”

Your heart dropped at the mention of his name, shock coursing through you. You had never expected to hear about Taehyung from them, and the sudden realization that they knew about him sent your mind racing.

“What do you know about him?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, instinctively defensive.

“Doesn’t matter,” the bloodied Ghostface growled, moving closer. “What matters is what you know. So, are you going to tell us, or are we going to have to make this… unpleasant?”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure. “They’re both gone,” you shouted defiantly, your voice echoing off the walls. “You’ll never find them!”

Both Ghostfaces stilled at your words, exchanging a glance that sent a shiver down your spine. You could see the anger and frustration brewing between them, and you knew you had struck a nerve.

“You think you can play games with us?” the bloodied one hissed, stepping even closer. “You’re in no position to make demands.”

The sad-masked one smirked, the corners of his mask curling upward. “Seems like you’re not going to cooperate, which means we have to resort to other methods.”

You steeled yourself, fully aware of the implications. “Go ahead. I’m not afraid of you,” you retorted, even though a part of you trembled at the thought of what they might do.

They exchanged another glance, and you could see their minds working. You had no idea what they had in store, but you were prepared to fight back against whatever twisted game they intended to play.

The bloodied Ghostface turned to you, his tone low and menacing. “You may think you’re tough, but we have ways to get the truth out of you. You’ll regret not talking soon enough.”

As they stepped back, you braced yourself.

As the two Ghostfaces approached with their knives glinting ominously, your breath hitched in fear. Your heart raced, and your mind instinctively went to Heeseung. Was he safe? Was he even looking for you? You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable pain.

Suddenly, there was a loud thump followed by grunts of pain. You heard bodies crashing to the floor, but felt no pain. Cautiously, you opened your eyes—and gasped.

Standing before you was another Ghostface. His mask was dirtied, the cloak torn and stained. In his hand, he held a heavy plank, which he had clearly used to knock out the other two. Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to process what you were seeing.

"You…" you started, your voice shaky with disbelief.

Without a word, the Ghostface dropped the plank and, with deliberate movements, pulled the dirty mask up just enough to reveal his face. Your heart skipped a beat.

It was Heeseung.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you took in the sight of him—your Heeseung, standing there in front of you, having just saved you. “How?” you whispered, barely able to find your voice, overwhelmed with relief and shock.

Heeseung’s expression was intense but softened as he pulled the mask back down over his face. "Sorry I didn’t get here sooner," he said quietly, immediately kneeling beside you. He picked up one of the knives from the ground and quickly began cutting through the binds around your wrists. "It was harder than I thought to track you down."

As soon as your hands were free, he gave you the other knife. You stood up, your legs trembling as the reality of your rescue sank in. And then, without hesitation, you threw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He wrapped his arms around you in return, holding you close as your tears of happiness flowed freely.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” you cried into his shoulder, your voice muffled by the cloak he still wore.

“I promised I’d protect you, didn’t I?” Heeseung whispered, his grip tightening as if he’d never let go. You could feel the weight of his words—he had come for you, just like he said he would.

The two Ghostfaces stirred, groaning in pain, they struggled to stand upright. The bloodied-masked one wiped his hands on his cloak and pointed at Heeseung, his voice rough. "You! Who the hell are you?"

Heeseung straightened up, his presence commanding and cold. He held the knife tightly, his stance shifting as he met their eyes. "I understand you two were looking for me?" His voice dropped, deep and dangerous, the same chilling tone you recognized from the past—the voice he’d used back when he first called you, before everything had changed. Before he’d fallen in love with you. Before he had planned to kill you.

You couldn’t help but shiver, the memories flooding back.

The sad-masked Ghostface tilted his head, his voice laced with confusion and awe. "You… you're him?"

Heeseung took a step forward, eyes narrowing behind the mask. "I’m the original."

At those words, the two Ghostfaces exchanged quick, shocked glances, the realization hitting them hard. Their curiosity quickly spiraled into a barrage of questions.

"What happened to you?" the sad-masked one asked, his voice trembling with a mix of admiration and fear. "Why did you vanish?"

"Why are you back now?" the bloodied one chimed in, his eyes narrowing behind the mask. "And where is Taehyung? The second Ghostface?"

The room was tense, the weight of their questions hanging in the air. Heeseung's eyes darkened, his grip on the knife tightening as he stared them down. There was no trace of the loving partner you knew in this moment—this was the cold, ruthless version of him they were dealing with.

"I had my reasons for disappearing," Heeseung said, his voice steady, calculated. "But trust me when I say—you're making the same mistakes we did. And as for Taehyung…" Heeseung’s gaze flickered, a flash of something unreadable crossing his features. "He’s gone. Permanently."

The silence in the room was deafening as the two Ghostfaces processed his words, shifting uneasily. They had no idea what they were truly up against now.

The two Ghostfaces exchanged glances, clearly unsettled by Heeseung’s words. The bloodied-masked one shifted his stance, gripping his knife tighter, but there was hesitation now. "Gone? What do you mean he's gone?" His voice was laced with frustration and confusion.

Heeseung’s gaze was unrelenting, his calm demeanor only making the tension thicker. "Taehyung made a choice. One that cost him his life." His voice was low, deliberate, sending a shiver through you. He glanced at you for a brief moment, his expression softening, before returning his cold stare to the two Ghostfaces.

"You're lying," the sad-masked one spat, taking a step forward. "He wouldn’t just die. You did something to him, didn't you?"

Heeseung remained motionless, the knife in his hand glinting under the dim light. "It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you two are playing a game you can’t win."

The bloodied Ghostface’s grip on his knife wavered slightly as he processed Heeseung’s words. Heeseung’s presence was overpowering, and you could see the doubt creeping into their movements. They had wanted to emulate the original, to bring back the fear and chaos, but now they were standing face to face with the source of it all. And they weren’t prepared.

"You think you can just walk in here and take over?" the bloodied Ghostface sneered, trying to regain some control. "We’ve planned this for years. We’re not going to let you ruin it!"

Heeseung stepped forward, his knife raising slightly, his voice dark and taunting. "Ruin it? You’ve already ruined yourselves. The moment you decided to come after her"—he motioned toward you—"you sealed your fate."

Before they could react, Heeseung lunged forward with a precision that was terrifying to watch. His knife sliced through the air, and the bloodied Ghostface barely managed to dodge the strike, stumbling backward. The sad-masked one, too slow to react, was left vulnerable. Heeseung’s movements were fluid, quick, and within moments, he had knocked the sad-masked one to the ground with a powerful kick.

You stood frozen, gripping the knife he had given you, your heart pounding. Heeseung was a different person now—cold, relentless, and efficient. You had always known he had this side, but seeing it again, now, reminded you of the past when he wasn’t your savior, but your enemy.

The bloodied Ghostface rushed at Heeseung, but Heeseung sidestepped with ease, slashing his knife across the Ghostface’s arm. A scream of pain filled the room as the bloodied Ghostface dropped his weapon, clutching his bleeding arm.

"You don’t get it, do you?" Heeseung muttered, his voice filled with contempt. "You’re nothing but cheap copies."

Heeseung’s knife pressed against the sad-masked one’s throat as he pinned him to the ground. The bloodied one, still holding his arm, looked on in desperation, knowing he was outmatched.

"Please," the sad-masked Ghostface whimpered, his voice shaking. "We were just trying to continue what you started."

Heeseung looked down at him, his expression unreadable beneath the mask. For a moment, you wondered if he’d show mercy.

"You never understood," Heeseung said coldly. "This was never about continuing. It was always about ending."

The bloodied Ghostface, desperate and enraged, let out a roar as he lunged at Heeseung from behind. Heeseung, quick and unphased, sidestepped and grabbed the bloodied one's arm, twisting it sharply before flipping him over his shoulder, sending him crashing to the floor with a painful thud. The bloodied one groaned, clutching his side, but his sudden attack gave the sad-masked one just enough time to back away and regroup with him.

The two Ghostfaces stood together now, breathing heavily, shaken but determined. Heeseung's cold eyes followed their every move, his grip on the knife unwavering. He pointed it at them, the air thick with tension. "Who even are you?" Heeseung demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"We are the remnant of the past," they both said in unison, their voices hollow behind the masks.

Without another word, the two Ghostfaces charged at Heeseung again, this time in perfect sync, a relentless force determined to bring him down. They swung their knives with wild fury, but Heeseung was faster, dodging and countering with sharp, calculated movements. Each clash of metal rang out in the room, the echoes of their battle filling the dark space.

Heeseung deflected their attacks, his focus unbreakable. He managed to slice across the sad-masked one’s arm, drawing blood, but the other seized the moment and slashed at Heeseung’s side. He grunted, taking the hit but not faltering, spinning around with a quick kick that sent the bloodied one stumbling back.

"You’re just like the others," Heeseung muttered through gritted teeth, his breathing heavy but controlled. "Thinking you can survive this. But you won’t."

The sad-masked Ghostface, now visibly injured, glanced at his partner. They were clearly weakening, their moves becoming sloppy. But they weren’t giving up. They circled Heeseung again, trying to flank him from both sides.

Heeseung shifted his stance, readying himself. This was far from over.

You watched, heart racing, knowing the stakes. Heeseung wasn’t just fighting for himself—he was fighting for you.

Suddenly the sad-masked Ghostface made a beeline for you, you bolted, your legs carrying you as fast as they could into a nearby kitchen. The adrenaline coursing through your veins drowned out the fear, but only barely. You looked around wildly for anything to defend yourself with, your heart pounding. Before you could react, he tackled you from behind, slamming you into the cold kitchen tiles.

He raised his knife high, ready to bring it down on you. In desperation, you gripped your own knife tightly and thrust it upward, piercing his stomach. He shouted in pain, his strike going wild and stabbing your shoulder instead. A scream ripped from your throat as he yanked the blade out, preparing to stab you again.

Just as he was about to deliver the final blow, something—or someone—grabbed him by the scruff of his cloak and hurled him off you. Gasping in shock, you looked up and saw a figure standing above you. Unlike the others, this Ghostface wore a black mask instead of the iconic white.

"Hey, Y/N! Long time no see!" the voice was almost cheery, and you blinked in confusion.

“Huh?” you muttered, dazed and unsure of what was happening.

Before you could even process, the sad-masked Ghostface charged again, but the black-masked figure reacted instantly, delivering a brutal kick followed by a series of punches that sent the sad-masked assailant flying out of the kitchen.

Heeseung rushed in just then, his eyes frantic as he saw you on the floor, bloodied but alive. "Let's go! Let's go!" he yelled, grabbing you under one arm, while the black-masked Ghostface took your other side. They practically carried you as you all ran toward the front door, only to find it blocked by the bloodied Ghostface, his knife gleaming in the dim light.

"Upstairs!" Heeseung barked, and the three of you rushed up the staircase, racing into a room at the end of the hall. Slamming the door shut behind you, they quickly barricaded it with anything they could find, their movements fast and desperate.

"I have a plan!" the black-masked Ghostface said, catching his breath.

"What’s your plan?" Heeseung asked, still on high alert.

"It involves fire," the black-masked figure answered, nonchalantly as if this was an everyday conversation.

"What?" Heeseung shot back, clearly not expecting that answer.

"Can someone tell me what's happening?!" you shouted, the frustration and confusion finally boiling over. None of this made any sense. Your shoulder throbbed, and you were bleeding, cornered in a strange house with two people you were barely keeping up with.

Both Heeseung and the black-masked figure turned to you. The black-masked figure tilted his head before casually pulling the mask up.

"Jake?!" you exclaimed, your jaw dropping.

"Heya!" Jake grinned, far too cheerful for the situation.

"You're Ghostface too?!" You were more shocked than angry, your mind barely able to wrap around the revelation. Jake, your friend—now in the same mask that had haunted you—was standing there like this was just a reunion.

Heeseung, shaking his head, sighed and looked over at Jake. "So… fire?"

Jake shrugged. "Yeah, I think burning this place down should work. It’ll take care of those two, right?"

Heeseung frowned, glancing at you before looking back at Jake. "You're serious about this?"

"Dead serious," Jake said, his eyes darkening a bit, the lightness in his tone shifting.

The door rattled violently as the pounding from the other side intensified. You, Heeseung, and Jake all stiffened, your hearts racing as the room filled with tension. Without warning, the door was kicked open, crashing against the wall with a deafening bang. Two Ghostfaces stormed into the room—one with the bloodied mask and the other with the sad mask. But now, the fight was even. Heeseung and Jake, still wearing their masks, leaped into action.

Chaos erupted instantly.

You stood frozen for a moment, watching as four Ghostfaces, indistinguishable in the frenzy of movement, attacked and dodged each other with precision and fury. Knives clashed, bodies collided, and the room became a whirlwind of violence. The sound of grunts, thuds, and the sharp swish of blades cutting through the air overwhelmed your senses.

Jake, with a sudden burst of energy, lunged at the sad-masked Ghostface, driving him into the wall. The two struggled, their knives clashing as they wrestled for control. Heeseung, on the other side, faced off against the bloodied Ghostface, their movements fast and brutal. You could hear the sound of blades slicing through fabric, followed by the occasional grunt of pain as both sides took hits.

You felt utterly helpless. Your heart pounded in your chest as you pressed yourself against the farthest wall, your mind racing with fear and uncertainty. Every instinct told you to run, but there was nowhere to go. The only exit was blocked by the chaos unfolding in front of you.

At one point, Heeseung was thrown back, his knife skidding across the floor and stopping near your feet. You gasped, crouching down to grab it, your hands trembling and threw it back to him. As you stood up, you saw Jake take a punch to the gut, causing him to stagger back, his grip on his own knife loosening.

You wanted to help, to do something—anything—but the intensity of the fight made it clear that stepping in could cost you your life. You clutched your knife tightly, your fingers white-knuckled, but your feet refused to move. The sight of the four Ghostfaces, each donning their masks as they fought in a blur of black robes and flashing blades, left you feeling paralyzed with fear.

The sad-masked Ghostface managed to push Jake to the ground and swung his knife down, but Jake rolled out of the way just in time, delivering a swift kick that knocked his attacker back. Heeseung, meanwhile, grappled with the bloodied one, both of them trading blows and slashes, their masks stained with sweat and fury.

The room became smaller with each passing second, the violent dance of the Ghostfaces making it hard to breathe. You clutched your chest, unsure how much longer this battle would last, or if any of you would make it out alive.

A loud crash snapped you back to reality as one of the Ghostfaces—Jake, you realized—was thrown against a dresser, causing it to splinter under the force. The sad-masked Ghostface was relentless, advancing toward Jake with his knife raised, ready to strike again. Heeseung, locked in his own fight, couldn’t break free to help. You were the only one who could stop it.

Your heart pounded as you looked down at the knife in your hand. Could you do it? Could you actually fight back?

With a shaky breath, you took a step forward, ready to make a choice.

As the sad-masked Ghostface raised his knife to strike Jake, your body moved before your mind could catch up. You lunged forward, gripping the knife. Your legs felt weak, and your heart hammered in your chest, but you knew you had to act.

With a scream, you plunged the knife into the side of the sad-masked Ghostface just as his arm came down to strike Jake. The blade sliced into him, and he let out a guttural gasp, his body freezing in place. He staggered back, his knife slipping from his grasp and clattering to the floor as he looked down at the wound you had inflicted.

Jake quickly scrambled to his feet, panting, his eyes wide as he took in what had just happened. "Y/N!" he gasped, momentarily shocked by your actions.

The sad-masked Ghostface stumbled back, clutching his side, blood seeping through his robes. His masked face turned toward you, his breathing ragged and uneven.

Before you could react, Heeseung, who had just disarmed the bloodied Ghostface, surged forward, his knife flashing as he delivered a brutal slash across the sad-masked Ghostface's chest. The man collapsed to the floor, writhing in pain, his mask tilted to one side as he struggled to breathe.

You stood there, panting, the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you realized what you had done. You had attacked him. You had saved Jake.

But there was no time to dwell on it. The bloodied Ghostface, seeing his partner fall, let out a roar of rage and lunged toward you with reckless fury. Heeseung was there in an instant, blocking his path and shoving him back. The two clashed violently, their movements fast and deadly.

Jake, now on his feet and regaining his composure, grabbed his knife and moved to help Heeseung. Together, they forced the bloodied Ghostface into a corner, their attacks coordinated and relentless. Heeseung landed a powerful punch to the masked figure’s jaw, causing the bloodied Ghostface to stumble.

As the dust settled from the chaotic struggle, Jake and Heeseung wasted no time in pulling the masks off the defeated Ghostfaces. Your breath caught in your throat as their faces were revealed.

The sad-masked Ghostface was none other than the guy you and Heeseung had encountered at the mall—the one who had been so strangely charming yet oddly unsettling.

But it was the second figure that sent shockwaves through your system. Kim Ji Woong, Taehyung’s little brother. You stared, wide-eyed, as the reality of the situation sank in.

“What?” you managed to say, disbelief threading through your voice.

They exchanged tense glances before sad-masked Ghostface stepped forward, a faint smirk crossing his lips. “Myung Jaehyun, pleasure to make an acquaintance,” he said, his tone laced with mockery. He turned to Heeseung, the smile fading. “Your dear stepbrother Heeseung,” he added.

You felt your heart drop as Heeseung’s eyes widened in shock. “Step… brother?” he echoed, the weight of the revelation crashing over him like a tidal wave. He gently pulled off his own mask, his expression a mixture of confusion and anger.

Jaehyun looked down, a flicker of sadness in his eyes. “Mom… remarried,” he explained, his voice heavy with unspoken emotions.

Ji Woong, not willing to let the moment linger, huffed in frustration. “Yes, yes, such a nice brotherly reunion… yet you!” he spat, pointing an accusatory finger at Heeseung. “You killed my brother!”

Heeseung’s expression hardened, his voice devoid of warmth. “Your brother deserved it,” he stated flatly, and the tension in the room skyrocketed.

In an instant, Ji Woong lunged at Heeseung, rage fueling his movements. Heeseung retaliated, the two engaging in a brutal struggle.

“Hey!” Jake shouted, springing into action as he jumped to intercept Ji Woong. The chaos erupted once more, fists flying and bodies colliding. Jaehyun followed suit, rushing at Jake with an intensity that mirrored his companion's fury.

“Y/N! Run!” Jake called out, urgency lacing his voice.

You didn’t hesitate. The instinct to survive kicked in, and you sprinted past the tangled bodies, darting down the stairs and bursting through the door. The cool night air hit your face, but you didn’t stop. You ran, heart pounding, adrenaline fueling your escape as you fled the house.

The sounds of fighting echoed behind you as Jake and Heeseung fought off Ji Woong and Jaehyun. You didn't stop to look back, your body moving on pure instinct as you burst through the front door of the house, desperate to escape the chaos.

The cold night air hit you like a wave as you sprinted across the yard, your feet crunching on the dry leaves.

Behind you, you could hear faint shouts—distant, but still there. It was hard to tell if it was Heeseung or Jake calling out, or the others trying to chase after you. Either way, you kept running.

You stumbled over the uneven forest floor, your mind racing. How had it come to this? Jaehyun, Heeseung’s stepbrother? Ji Woong, Taehyung’s brother? None of it made sense. The weight of it all—of how intertwined everything was—made your head spin.

You stumbled onto the road, your legs shaky from exhaustion, past a gate that hung half-open along the overgrown driveway. The forest loomed around you, thick and oppressive, stretching for miles with no signs of civilization in sight.

Tiredness weighed heavily on your limbs, and before you knew it, you collapsed in the middle of the road. The cool asphalt felt comforting against your skin, but fear crept in as you lay there. Just as you were about to succumb to the darkness of fatigue, two headlights pierced the night, growing brighter as the vehicle approached.

You scrambled to your feet, waving your arms frantically. “Help!” you shouted, desperation clawing at your throat. The car came to a screeching halt, and the door swung open.

“Help me!” you cried, relief flooding your senses as you recognized the figure stepping out of the car. “Taehyun! Please, you gotta help me!” You rushed forward, grasping his hand tightly, your heart racing with hope.

But the words that left his mouth sent a chill racing down your spine.

“Oh, Y/N… if only there was someone that could help you now,” he said, his tone dripping with something sinister. Confusion washed over you, and before you could process anythingl, a sharp pain struck the side of your head.

Everything went black.

In an instant, the world faded away, leaving you engulfed in darkness. Your last conscious thought was of Heeseung and Jake.

Part 4 coming soon

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