Molka

Chapter 27 #2

Dahye stared at him with distaste, wrinkling her nose. Once the video ended, she opened her camera and pressed the record button, propping the phone against the wall. Junyoung stared at it.

“Wh—what is that?” he asked fearfully. “What are you doing?”

“We’re going to make an even better video,” Dahye said, smiling.

“No,” Junyoung moaned. “No. Nonono—”

“Shhh. The more you fight, the more painful it’ll be.

” She gagged him again, then bent over him to carve through his clothing with the cleaver, revealing the soft, hairless curd of his belly.

She smirked as she cut through his jeans and then his underwear.

His penis was wilted and flaccid. Small.

Seeing her expression, Junyoung grew red with shame.

He was on the verge of dying, of being emasculated, and all he could think about was how small his dick looked.

He wanted to tell her that he was a grower, not a shower. But he was fully naked now, and he had bigger things to worry about.

Junyoung had envisioned his death many times throughout the course of his life, but always as an old man, gray and worn, cradled in the arms of a beautiful woman. Never had he anticipated this—lying on the ground, wrists and ankles bound, a knife at his groin.

For some reason, he kept thinking about his mother and her wrinkled face.

He thought about her yellow teeth and the way she always covered her mouth when she talked or smiled.

It was funny; he had spent so much of his time hating her after his father had left, despising her weakness and the fact that she hadn’t been able to do her duties as a wife to make him stay.

Junyoung didn’t blame his father. In his shoes, he would have done the same.

Abeoji had been educated, his family lineage strong.

He had come from a line of military generals, strong-willed, temperamental, while Junyoung’s mother had been poor.

She hadn’t attended university. She wasn’t beautiful or particularly interesting in any way.

As far as Junyoung knew, his father had married her out of pity.

Was it any wonder that it had gone the way it had?

As Dahye raised the knife, Junyoung’s vision went black.

He began to pray. Please, if you’re up there, God, get me out of this horrible situation.

I’m begging you. I’ll do anything. I’ll be nice to my mother.

I’ll buy her whatever she wants. I’ll take her to the dentist to get her teeth fixed.

I’ll get rid of all the cameras and delete all the footage I have.

I’ll spend the rest of my life repenting.

I’ll join a monastery. I won’t think of women ever again. Please just let me live.

Suddenly, a knock came at the front door. Dahye stopped, her hand floating in mid-air. She cocked her head, listening, as another rapid knock came through. Frowning, she turned to Junyoung.

“Does anybody know where you are?” she asked. “Your family?”

Junyoung shook his head. Dahye scuttled toward her bedroom door, peeking out. They heard a deep voice.

“Police! We know you’re inside. Open the door, or we’ll break it down!”

Junyoung squirmed. He was saved. Saved! Dahye, scowling, hit him across the cheek with the handle of the knife, cutting his elation short. Spots of white danced across his vision.

“Get in the closet,” she hissed, as they listened to another barrage of knocks. Junyoung hesitated. She made a shallow cut in his thigh.

“I said, get in the fucking closet.”

The most he could manage was a slow-moving crawl along the floor as Dahye pushed and kicked him. The wood floor tugged and pinched at his bare skin. He moved as deliberately as possible, sensing Dahye’s agitation. Maybe if he took long enough, the police would break down the door—

She cut him again, deeper this time. He could feel blood trickling down his leg and was overcome with panic. He crawled faster.

“I’m coming,” Dahye yelled in a high, cheerful voice. “I’m getting out of the shower now. I’ll be just a minute!”

Junyoung stopped in front of the closet, and Dahye raised the butt of the knife over his head again as if to hit him. He flinched. “That’s right,” she said, giggling hysterically. “Now get in the closet, little piggy. Do as I say.”

He lay flat on the floor as Dahye piled her dirty laundry on top of him, doing her best to hide him from view. Junyoung’s face was covered, and he was blind, but he could sense the warmth of her body as she hovered above him.

“If you do anything, if you even breathe the wrong way,” she whispered, “I’ll make you regret every last second of your miserable, pathetic life.”

Then he heard the door shut. Her footsteps disappeared around the corner, and Junyoung lay there in the stillness, breathing the scent of her musk.

He had been given an opportunity, and he wasn’t about to die without a fight.

He was meant to survive. To live. He closed his eyes and saw his mother’s face again, blindingly bright.

Yes—he needed to get home to his mother. He needed to right all his wrongs.

He shook the clothing from his face and pushed up against the door, stopping when he felt the soles of his feet resting against the wood.

Thinking hard, he tried again to pull his ankles apart.

Faint voices trickled in from the living room, and Junyoung felt his desperation grow.

He pulled harder and felt the string slacken slightly, giving him a little room to move his feet.

Lifting his hips, he reached for the doorknob with his big toe.

How much time had passed? Five minutes? Were the cops still here?

Junyoung quieted his breathing, trying to eavesdrop.

He could hear snippets of their conversation.

One distinct voice—a man’s—and then Junyoung heard another, deeper than the first. Two policemen, he breathed.

If he could just open the door, they could rescue him.

He extended his foot, moving it back and forth, trying to get a grip on the metal. Sweat pooled along his forehead, and the pain in his ankle was excruciating. Just a bit more, he thought. A little more.

The shoelaces were cutting off his circulation. For one awful moment, he was sure he was stuck, and then he managed to turn the doorknob. He stared in astonishment as the door opened, the light from the bedroom flooding in.

+

Dahye hid the phone and the knife, and after one final scan, hurried to the front door.

She plastered a smile on her face and greeted the two police officers who were waiting for her on the other side.

One was young; the other looked to be in his fifties.

They were serious. Solemn. They didn’t crack even the slightest hint of a smile.

“So sorry to make you wait,” Dahye said apologetically. “I wasn’t expecting any company. Can I help you?”

“My name is Officer Lim,” said the older officer. “This is Officer Han. We have a few questions regarding the disappearance of Jang Hyukjoon. His family informed us that you two had … some kind of romantic relationship?”

“Oh—well, yes,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. “It wasn’t serious. We met briefly for a few months.”

“Right …” Officer Lim peered over her shoulder. “Can we come in?”

Dahye looked over her shoulder. “Certainly,” she said. “Though I have to warn you—I don’t have much yet. I just moved in a few days ago.”

She moved aside to let the officers pass. They glanced around but gave nothing away with their expressions.

“We have a few questions,” Officer Lim said, removing a small notepad and pen from his pocket. “We won’t take up too much of your time.”

“Of course,” she said, nervously eyeing the gun at his waist. She had never seen an officer with a gun before. She tried her best not to stare.

“Where were you on the night of August 14th?”

“August 14th?” She pretended to think. “I think I was home. I don’t remember exactly …”

“Is there someone who can vouch for you?” Officer Han interrupted.

“I—I don’t know. My friend Bora, maybe.”

“Great,” Officer Lim said, scribbled furiously. “What’s her last name?”

“Kim.”

Dahye glanced toward Eunhye. Her sister was standing behind Officer Han, her hands hovering over his neck. Don’t, she wanted to say. Eunhye smiled.

“And when was the last time you saw Mr. Jang?”

“I’m not sure. It’s been a while since we stopped seeing each other.”

“Give us your best estimate.”

“A month ago? Maybe longer?”

More scribbling. Dahye blinked, trying to read his miniscule writing.

“You were the woman in the video that was leaked, right?”

“Sir?” Dahye stammered.

Officer Lim looked apologetic. “The family hired a private investigator to find the identity of the woman in the video. That’s why we’re here.”

“Yes,” Dahye said, suddenly angry. “It was me. So what?” Eunhye’s hands were nearly touching Officer Han now. He shivered and looked around, the corners of his mouth turning downward.

“We’re not here to upset you,” Officer Lim said gently. “We’re trying to get to the bottom of what happened.”

“Oh, now you’re trying to get to the bottom of things! What about when I went to the police to ask them to help me when it first happened? I still haven’t gotten a call from—whatever his name is. Your boss.”

Officer Lim cleared his throat. “Miss Park,” he said. “Please. There’s no need to get hysterical. We’re here to talk about Jang Hyukjoon. Now. Were you angry at Mr. Jang over what happened? Did you want to hurt him? Get revenge?”

“No. I loved Hyukjoon.”

The two officers looked at each other. “Loved?”

“Love,” Dahye stammered.

Officer Lim opened his mouth to say something, but just as he did, a loud thump came from Dahye’s bedroom. Officer Lim’s head snapped toward the sound, his hand moving to the gun.

“Is someone here with you?” he asked.

“No, I’m by myself,” Dahye said, trying to stay calm. “That was probably the neighbors. The walls are thin.”

“Then you won’t mind if we take a look around?”

Dahye gritted her teeth. “Be my guest,” she said, hoping Junyoung had taken her threats seriously.

Officer Lim pushed her bedroom door open. “If there’s someone in here, come out with your hands up!” he said loudly.

Time slowed. Dahye leaned against the wall to steady herself.

Eunhye was muttering, the water dripping from her body.

Officer Lim took one step into her room, and right there, on the other side, was Junyoung, lying naked, gagged, and bound, his face covered in blood.

Somehow the bastard had managed to get out of the closet.

Dahye stumbled backward as the officers turned, their mouths dropping open in shock.

Officer Lim began to draw his gun. At his feet, Junyoung gurgled, choking on her sock.

And Eunhye—Eunhye began to scream. To chant.

“KILL THEM ALL!” Her hands closed around Officer Han’s throat, and he dropped to the ground, swatting at the empty air, trying to break free from the invisible hands that were choking him.

Even now, Eunhye was so beautiful. And, as Dahye watched her, she realized that the two of them were more similar in appearance than she had originally thought. She could no longer tell whom she was looking at anymore.

“Drop to the floor,” Officer Lim screamed at Dahye. “Hands up! Put your hands up!”

Eunhye—or was it Dahye?—smiled, and then she lunged toward Junyoung’s naked body, her fingers clawing at his throat.

There was an ear-splitting blast. The noise ricocheted off the walls as the acrid smell of gunpowder settled in the apartment.

When the smoke cleared, Officer Lim stood with the gun clutched in his hands.

Wisps of gray floated gently from the end of the weapon as blood leaked from the ragged hole in Dahye’s chest. She stood completely still before slowly crumpling to the floor.

She was making awful, inhuman noises that made the hair on Junyoung’s neck stand on end.

At first, he thought she was crying. And then he realized she was laughing.

Her mouth was cracked wide open in a smile.

She was so terrible, this crazy bitch, and when she reached for Junyoung, he shrank away.

He couldn’t believe he had ever loved her.

When she grew still, he was flooded with relief.

Junyoung was tired. It was so noisy, and his ears were still ringing from the gunshot.

Suddenly, the living room was bursting with activity.

Paramedics and police officers appeared from nowhere, moving around him like ants.

They were talking to him. Asking him questions.

Someone removed the gag from his mouth, and another person covered him up.

Soft, gentle hands picked him up from the floor and laid him gently on a stretcher.

As he was being carried out, Junyoung thought he heard the sound of water dripping in the bathroom.