Chapter 22 #2
Dahye went to him, and Hyukjoon wasted no time, pushing her down.
One hand trailed up to her neck and squeezed.
She remembered that he was especially rough when he was drunk.
As he leaned in to kiss her, his phone fell out of his pocket and onto the floor.
Dahye picked it up. An idea began to take shape. “Turn on your camera,” she said.
He made a face but did as she asked. “Why?”
“You’ll see.” She hit the record button and gave the phone back to him. “I want to see what we look like on video. You can delete it after, if you want.”
Hyukjoon wore an odd expression, but his arousal was obvious, and he needed no other instruction. Pointing the camera at Dahye’s body, he commanded, “Take off your clothes.”
She looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes, biting her lip. Slowly, keeping her gaze fixed on Hyukjoon, Dahye slipped out of her shirt.
“The pants now,” he murmured.
Dahye shook her head, giving him a coy smile. “It’s your turn,” she said.
“My turn?” Hyukjoon raised his eyebrows.
Anybody else want a turn before I take her back?
“Uh-huh.”
“I didn’t know you were like this,” Hyukjoon said with a smirk. Nevertheless, he handed the phone to her. Working languidly, he undid the buttons of his shirt. “Are you happy now?”
“Very.” Since their so-called breakup, Dahye had lost a substantial amount of weight. Her hip bones jutted out from her skin, and she knew her ribs were clearly visible below her small breasts. Hyukjoon, on the other hand, looked as he always had: broad shoulders, sculpted chest, strong arms.
He reached for the phone. “Your turn. The pants?”
She shrugged out of her jeans to stand in just her panties, shivering as Hyukjoon let out a groan.
He didn’t wait for her. He fumbled with his belt buckle and shed his khaki shorts and briefs in one swift movement, leaving them in a pile on the mattress.
The phone tumbled to the floor, but Hyukjoon made no move to pick it up.
He was fully erect. “You look so good,” he growled. “Come here and take it.”
Took my cock like the good little slut she is …
She wrapped her hand around his member. He was warm and throbbed in her hand as he moaned.
He nuzzled the hollow of her neck, and once again his fingers circled around her throat, pressing them into her larynx.
She stifled a yelp. She would not give Hyukjoon the pleasure of knowing that he was hurting her. Not again. Never again.
“Put it in your mouth,” he said.
“I will,” she said, batting her eyelashes up at him. “But close your eyes. I want you to feel it all.” She began stroking his shaft in a gentle rhythm, and Hyukjoon’s breathing became ragged. He shuddered as she slowly descended to her knees.
As instructed, he leaned his head back with his eyes tightly shut.
With her left hand, Dahye continued to stroke him, while her right hand slipped under the edge of the mattress.
She found the handle of the rusty cleaver and quietly pulled it out.
Just as she was about to plunge the blade downward, she hesitated.
Could she do this?
She was frozen. Time seemed to slow. In a flash, Eunhye was by her side, red eyes burning ravenously.
“Do it!” she snarled.
“I don’t know if I can …”
“You already killed someone.”
“You said it wasn’t my fault. This is different. I’m not a … murderer.”
Hyukjoon seemed to come out of his trance. “Are you talking dirty, baby? Talk louder. I can’t hear what you’re saying.”
Surprised by his words, Dahye’s hand stopped moving.
“Keep going,” Hyukjoon said, eyes still shut. “Come on. Suck it.” He sounded exasperated.
Her sister leaned in. “Are you listening to him? He will never stop. Ever.”
In that moment, Dahye understood. Eunhye was right. Hyukjoon had spent his entire adult life preying on women. He would never change.
He opened his eyes then and, seeing the knife, recoiled. “What the fuck?”
Dahye did not hesitate again. As the blade met his flesh, Hyukjoon opened his mouth and screamed. Blood spattered the mattress and the floor.
Now Hyukjoon was the one on his knees. His trembling hands held onto his member, which hung limp and ragged, attached only by the smallest thread of skin. He let out a muffled howl of pain. Next to him, Eunhye giggled.
“Why?” Hyukjoon babbled. “Why would you—? What the fuck, you crazy bitch!” He let out a moan. “Help me. Please. Call an ambulance. Fuck! I’ll pay you. How much do you want?” Tears and snot dribbled down his chin as his voice trailed off.
All bitches have a price.
Suddenly, his eyes widened. “Wh—what is that thing?”
Dahye followed his eyes to where Eunhye was standing. Her sister opened her mouth and began to sing.
“All pigs go to the slaughterhouse to die.”
“No! Get away from me. Stay away!” He began to crawl from her like a crab. “Please let me go. Please. I won’t say anything.”
Without warning, Dahye grabbed his limp member and tugged hard. Hyukjoon cried out as the thread of skin holding his withered little cock to his body snapped like a rubber band. Blood spurted in the air, a few drops wetting Dahye’s lips. She didn’t mind. His hands flailed in a paroxysm of pain.
Eunhye howled with laughter, her eyes glowing brightly. Water continued to tumble from her body, hitting the floor and mixing with Hyukjoon’s blood. He continued to twitch and shake, with intermittent groans and gasps. His skin had gone a terrible shade of gray.
Dahye’s eyes passed over the room and rested on the little pencil case Hara had given her at the support group meeting.
Dahye picked up the case and gave it a shake as Hyukjoon continued to shudder and cry.
She opened the lid and saw the ice pick.
Hara had said they used it to remove the tiny molka cameras they found.
She remembered the way its sharp edge had felt scraping down her wrist.
Suddenly, she was overcome with tiredness. Her head felt like it would burst. All she wanted was some quiet, but there was no telling how long it would take Hyukjoon to die. Using the last of her strength, Dahye took the ice pick and rammed it into his throat.
+
The smell of blood was thick in the air.
Dahye sat next to Hyukjoon’s body, her head resting on her knees.
She had stayed awake all night watching and rewatching the video she had taken on Hyukjoon’s phone.
Amazingly, it had captured nearly every moment of Hyukjoon’s terror.
She closed out and went to his camera roll.
Goosebumps prickled across her skin. Disgust roiled through her as she scrolled. He had hundreds of videos of women, in bars and clubs, in restrooms, on the street, at the mall.
He also had dozens of unread messages on KakaoTalk. Most of them were from Seoyeon. Dahye opened them.
Seoyeon: I’m sorry for losing my temper …
Seoyeon: where r u?
Seoyeon: I called you ten times. call me back
Seoyeon: did you fall asleep?
Seoyeon: I love you … sleep well
Seoyeon: don’t forget that we have the tasting tomorrow. pick you up at 8. remind your mom!
Poor Seoyeon. Dahye scrolled through Hyukjoon’s most recent chats. She wondered if the messages with Hyukjoon’s friends—the ones that had been leaked—were still on his phone. She scrolled to the bottom of the list and found Jia’s name instead.
Hyukjoon: don’t be mad, but … I can’t stop thinking about what happened last time
Hyukjoon: I know you said it can’t ever happen again and that we were drunk …
Hyukjoon: I’m in love with you, Jia. can we at least meet up to talk about it?
Hyukjoon: where are you right now? I can come to you
Hyukjoon: I just want to talk. that’s all … I swear … not trying to do anything else
At least Jia had had the decency to leave him on read.
Dahye felt another wave of sympathy for Seoyeon.
Despite the bullshit Hyukjoon had spewed to Dahye about their arranged marriage, it was obvious to her that Seoyeon truly cared for him.
She loved Hyukjoon the way Dahye once had—like a person drowning, with the shore in plain view.
Dahye knew nothing about Seoyeon, but she deserved better. Taking a screenshot of Hyukjoon’s messages to Jia, Dahye sent them to Seoyeon.
Hyukjoon: [SCREENSHOT]
Hyukjoon: I want to come clean. I’m sorry. I’m a bastard, Seoyeon. you know this isn’t the only time, either. the truth is that I don’t love you. I never have
Hyukjoon: I thought I could go through with marrying you, but I can’t …
Hyukjoon: I hope you’re able to move on with your life
Hyukjoon: please don’t try to contact me again
She hit send and turned off the phone, watching as the screen went black. Early morning light filtered into the room, illuminating the mess. Stained clothing, congealed puddles of blood, pieces of skin and flesh scattered across the mattress.
Hyukjoon’s severed member lay on the floor. Dahye picked it up. It was nearly weightless. She could hardly believe that this pitiful thing was the source of Hyukjoon’s power and what had determined his worth in the world. It had been so easy taking it from him.
She was exhausted and, at the same time, wide awake. Eunhye was muttering to herself, watching Hyukjoon’s stiffening body. Sitting next to him, she looked so small.
Some part of Dahye had believed that destroying Hyukjoon would resolve everything.
That it would bring her peace. But all she felt now was the anger coming to a boil.
Hyukjoon was a monster, sure, and deserved everything that had happened to him.
But he was only a symptom of the problem, one of many monsters that needed vanquishing.
She looked at Eunhye and saw her sister as a seventeen-year-old girl in the blue light of an aquarium, her face shimmering. Poor Eunhye, who thought there was no way to escape except for drowning.
Dahye stretched out a hand, and Eunhye took it. Dahye hardly felt the cold anymore. They would kill Jihoon together. She would finally put her sister’s spirit to rest.