Chapter 26
Something was wrong. She could sense it as soon as she stepped over the threshold into the living room. Glancing around, Dahye spotted a line of water trailing from the front door all the way into her closed bedroom.
Closed? Had she left it closed?
The back of her neck prickled. Dahye thought about the man she had seen at her door yesterday.
Her stomach clenched tightly. She had been dismissive of Eunhye’s suspicions, but maybe Eunhye had been right.
Maybe he was an investigator or a detective.
It had been five days since she had murdered Hyukjoon, and every time she went outside, Dahye saw his face splashed across billboards scattered around the city.
The search was ramping up, and still nobody had come to question her.
She had convinced herself, perhaps foolishly, that she had gotten away with it.
Dahye picked up the knife from the kitchen sink and tiptoed toward her bedroom. She opened the door and frowned when she saw Eunhye standing silently in front of the closet, facing away from her. Her head was cocked. Hearing Dahye’s footsteps, she turned around.
“He’s inside,” she rasped.
“Who is it?” Dahye mouthed.
Eunhye shrugged, her eyes narrowed. “The same guy from last time.”
Dahye held the cleaver up and reached for the doorknob, but Eunhye stopped her. Pressing a wrinkled, swollen finger against Dahye’s lips, she began to lead her out.
Dahye followed, a question in her eyes. Eunhye gave her a meaningful look, and Dahye understood. They walked toward the front door together.
+
Huddled underneath Dahye’s soiled clothes, Junyoung fought to quiet his breathing. She was so loud. Every sound was amplified in that little closet, the vibrations coming through the floorboards. Was it the same on the other side? Could she hear him, too?
As he listened to her footsteps approach the closet, a terrible thought struck him. What if she cut off his cock and kept it in the fridge? His hand shot down to his groin. He squeezed, as though checking to make sure it was still there. It was. He felt a fleeting relief.
Please, he begged, his eyes tightly closed, one hand still crushing his member. Please don’t let her come in. Make her turn around. Make her leave.
The faint stripe of light under the door disappeared, and Junyoung’s heart began hammering so loudly he was sure Dahye could hear it from where she was standing. Any second now, she would open the door and catch him red-handed, lying under her dirty laundry, her panties in his pocket.
If he was quick, he could overpower her. Run before she had enough time to register what was happening. He could make it outside and call the police before she could have a chance to find him.
And if he couldn’t make it? You’re a man, he reminded himself. You’re stronger than her. Smarter. Better in every way. He would tackle her, wrestle her to the floor. Then he would call the police.
He closed his eyes. If he called the police, they would find Jang Hyukjoon’s severed penis in her refrigerator, and she would be arrested. He would lose her forever.
No. No police. He would catch her off guard, surprise her, and run.
Silently, Junyoung rolled onto his stomach, his palms flat against the floor.
He was prepared to jump to his feet and run for his life—for his dick, really—but Dahye did not open the door.
Instead, a strange thing happened: An intense cold swept over him, as though a clammy, damp hand had pressed against the center of his back.
The feeling penetrated his skin, down into his bones, and a shiver ran down his spine.
The feeling vanished as suddenly as it had come. Junyoung lifted his head slightly, his mouth open, breathing shallowly. The collar of his shirt felt wet. On the other side of the door, he could hear Dahye’s retreating footsteps. She had walked away.
The front door opened and closed. The apartment grew still, but Junyoung didn’t dare move.
He began to count, the numbers tumbling into each other.
Sixty seconds. One hundred and twenty. He counted all the way to three hundred and sixty before getting up and opening the door a crack.
Sunlight flooded in, making his eyes ache. The bedroom was empty.
He crawled out, landing straight into a large puddle that sat in front of the closet door.
A wet trail led to the bathroom. Getting to his feet, Junyoung followed it, peeking carefully inside, confirming it was empty.
He turned to go but then stopped and looked up at the mirror. A woman’s face stared back at him.
He jumped and stumbled back, a scream caught in his throat. Frantically he turned, but there was nobody behind him. He looked back at the mirror. Nothing.
Still, the face was seared into his memory: long, dark hair, dripping wet; peeling, blue-tinged skin. Lips pulled back into a snarl. The whites of her eyes had been replaced with an ominous red.
Junyoung shook his head. He was wasting time, and his stupid imagination was running wild. He crept out into the living room and was relieved to find it empty. As he walked to the front door, he took one final look at the refrigerator.
He had just grasped the doorknob when something sharp jabbed him in the neck. From behind him came Dahye’s voice. It was completely flat and without emotion.
“Back away from the door. Turn around slowly with your hands up. If you try anything, I’ll slit your throat and let you bleed out right here on the floor.”