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It’s still dark outside when Jongwoo is roused from sleep.
He’s not awake per se — he can feel himself being pulled back to the dreamlands, his connection still strong — but he is aware enough to know that he’s not dreaming as he hazily glances around his room, wondering what stirred him to semi-consciousness.
He feels for his phone and taps at the screen, squinting at the bright 3 AM displayed, but there’s no calls or texts. He listens, but he doesn’t hear his mom or anything else make noise, save for the wind blowing outside his window.
The moonlight is bright, illuminating the tree outside Jongwoo’s window dancing with the breeze. He’s about to shrug it off and go back to sleep, but something catches his eye.
Outside, near the base of the tree. Jongwoo’s room is on the second floor, and with the aid of the nearly-full moon he can clearly see his backyard.
There’s someone standing next to the tree. Someone tall, wearing dark clothes, and what appears to be a white mask with vague facial features.
Jongwoo rubs his eyes, but when he looks again there’s nothing there. Just the tree, and the grass.
Maybe it was a trick of the moonlight, hitting the tree at a certain angle so Jongwoo mistook part of the trunk for a person. His thoughts taper out there, unable to form words anymore as sleep overtakes him.
The wind continues to blow, ruffling the long hair of the figure standing near the tree, staring at the window above. Unlike the pale white mask that now dangles from a male hand, the hair is inky black.
The figure stares a moment longer, then disappears with the next gust of wind.
BREAKING NEWS: INFAMOUS KILLER SEO MOONJO HAS ESCAPED
“— around 11pm last evening, Seo Moonjo appears to have taken advantage of a disturbance at Sameteo Sanitarium and escaped custody. He is at large, and presumed to be armed and dangerous. Seo Moonjo is known for brutally stabbing his parents at the age of 10 almost thirty years ago, and has been a resident of the Sameteo Sanitarium ever since. Authorities are urging the public to take every precaution this Halloween — ”
“Eomma? I’m leaving now.”
Jongwoo walks into the living room just as his mother turns off the TV and turns to him. He’s just finished eating, and is headed to school. His mother looks pale, and Jongwoo frowns.
“Is something wrong?”
“Not at all,” his mother hushes. “What time will you be home tonight?”
Jongwoo’s frown deepens, and he feels a flash of irritation. “I told you, I’m babysitting for the Hong’s. I probably won’t be home until after midnight.”
He’s told her this at least three times already, warning her that he won’t be able to take his younger brother trick-or-treating this year. It was always something his mother saddled him with on past Halloween’s, and Jongwoo’s glad to finally have an excuse not to.
“Oh, that’s right.” She fidgets. “Come right home afterward, okay?”
Jongwoo rolls his eyes. He’s not a child anymore. “Fine.”
He leaves for school, ignoring his mom’s goodbye behind him. If he had to respond, his anger would undoubtedly come out.
“Who are you supposed to be?”
Jongwoo looks at Seokyoon, unimpressed at his costume that looks like a deformed killer clown. Not at all age appropriate for the kids they’re babysitting.
“Oh come on! Isn’t it obvious? I’m Seo Moonjo!”
“Shut the door,” Jongwoo sighs, turning around to head back to the three kids decorating pumpkins in the kitchen. “I can’t believe you’re wearing that.”
Seokyoon was supposed to go with Jongwoo to the Hong’s house right after school, but of course he didn’t. Jongwoo assumed he just forgot, which annoyed him.
But it seems like Seokyoon went home to change into this stupid costume, which turns Jongwoo’s annoyance into anger.
“Aw, come on! I’m not too scary, right?” Seokyoon follows him into the kitchen and greets the kids. “What do you guys think?!”
“I’ve seen better,” 10-year-old Minho judges. His two younger sisters, Jiwoo and Jiyoo, burst into giggles.
Seokyoon pouts, and Jongwoo shakes his head. He opens the fridge and starts getting out the dinner the kids’ mom left for them.
“It’s not appropriate,” Jongwoo tells Seokyoon.
“That’s rich, coming from Mr. I-write-crime-thrillers-during-science-class!”
“That’s all fake,” Jongwoo narrows his eyes, getting a knife from the drawer to cut the kimbap. “Seo Moonjo actually killed people. In this town.”
Seokyoon just scoffs. “Like 25 years ago! Neither of us were born yet. Besides, I’m not the first person to dress up as him.”
Jongwoo grits his teeth, anger rising at Seokyoon’s flippant attitude. Everyone knows about Seo Moonjo and what he did all those years ago. Jongwoo gets frequent stares for it, just from the association of happening to live in the house next door to the vacant lot where Seo Moonjo’s house used to be, before he killed his parents and burned it down.
“Besides, it’s an even better costume this year,” Seokyoon continues, grinning. “Didn’t you hear? The guy’s loose. He escaped the loony bin. He’s gotta be, what, pushing 40 now?”
What?
He stares at Seokyoon, who looks back at him patiently, expecting a response. He’s not joking.
Jongwoo pulls out his phone, sliding past the notifications from his friends Jieun (who’s also babysitting) and Jaeho (pressuring him to ditch babysitting and come to a party tonight), to open the internet and google Seo Moonjo.
The first thing that pops up is dated to this morning, with the headline HALLOWEEN KILLER SEO MOONJO ESCAPES.
Jongwoo slowly looks up from his phone to Seokyoon, eyes burning.
“Are you telling me,” Jongwoo says slowly, “You knew Seo Moonjo escaped, and you came over here dressed like him to babysit three kids?”
Jongwoo didn’t want to get an angry phone call from Minho, Jiwoo, and Jiyoo’s parents later when they have nightmares about Seo Moonjo coming to kill them. He’s about to strangle Seokyoon.
It’s a miracle that their parents left them alone tonight, but Jongwoo figured they didn’t know yet. It must be local news only, since Jongwoo didn’t see it on social media. Who really gets local news from the internet anymore?
“Ah,” Seokyoon scratches his head. “I guess I didn’t think about it like that?”
“Of course you didn’t! You didn’t think at all!”
“Come on, hyung,” Seokyoon pouts. “You find out he’s loose, and you just yell at me? Aren’t you scared? When I found out after school, I almost pissed myself before I took an edible — ”
“Just shut up,” Jongwoo snaps. “Go decorate a pumpkin. Are you here to help, or what?”
“Okay, hyung!” Seokyoon replies cheerfully, plopping down next to the kids and starting to chat about the application of glitter on pumpkins.
Jongwoo grips the knife in his hand and takes some deep breaths. So now Seokyoon’s dressed as an escaped killer and high around 3 kids.
It’ll be fine. He can keep the kids occupied, wrangle Seokyoon (or throw him to the curb), and put on some Scooby Doo while waiting for the parents to return. He’s getting out of caring for his brother, and besides Jongwoo’s never much cared about celebrating Halloween anyway. Not in this town, with the ghost of Seo Moonjo everywhere.
Jongwoo would never admit it, but that grisly history is what made him start writing true crime in the first place. Maybe that’s why Seokyoon’s right, and Jongwoo’s not scared at the news that he’s escaped.
A flash of movement outside the kitchen window makes Jongwoo raise his head and pause.
It’s sunset, and everything is covered with a layer of golden orange light. Jongwoo watches the trees rustle in the breeze, dropping a few loose leaves, but he doesn’t see anything else.
Strange. He could’ve sworn he saw something white flash in the backyard.
Jongwoo finishes preparing the kid’s food and brings it to them, making them wash their hands of all things pumpkin, marker, and glitter before digging in. He and Seokyoon eat too, and by the time they’ve finished it’s dark outside.
“Well, time for me to head out!” Seokyoon announces.
“Excuse me?” Jongwoo says, narrowing his eyes. “You just got here like an hour ago.”
“Ah, sorry hyung,” he laughs. “I’m going to hang out with Kihyuk!”
Jongwoo clenches his jaw. “You’re ditching me for your creepy boyfriend?”
“He’s not creepy!” Seokyoon defends.
“Just go,” Jongwoo grits out.
Seokyoon doesn’t need to be told twice as he says goodbye to the kids, grabs his coat, and practically prances out the door. Jongwoo doesn’t know why they’re friends. He can’t wait to graduate and get out of this dumbass town.
Maybe Seo Moonjo had the right idea. Jongwoo can imagine that he also felt trapped here. Why else kill your parents and burn your house down? At least he did something about it. Jongwoo’s been holding his tongue, holding himself back, for as long as he can remember.
That’s why he’s not really concerned about Seo Moonjo coming back here, now that he can. Why the hell would he come back to this stupid place?
Jongwoo sets the kids up in front of the TV, and opens his laptop. His hands are itching to write, mind already lost in the headspace he imagines Seo Moonjo might have, narrating his escape.
His phone rings, breaking his concentration. He stops typing, annoyed.
Jongwoo sighs in irritation and answers it, glancing at the kids who are still enjoying their countless Scooby Doo episode.
“Jieun-ah? What do you need?”
“Oppa,” Jieun says softly. “I texted, but you weren’t answering…”
“Yeah, I’ve been busy over here,” Jongwoo responds. “What about you? Is Ahn Sunja being difficult?”
“No, no, she’s great,” Jieun says. “It’s just… Can we come over there?”
Jongwoo frowns. “Why?”
Jieun hesitates, and Jongwoo realizes she’s scared.
“I think someone’s outside,” she whispers. “I feel watched. I locked all the doors, but I still…”
“Alright,” Jongwoo says. “You can come over.”
“Are you sure?” Jieun asks, although the relief is evident in her voice.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Jongwoo says. “You’re only a few blocks away, I’m sure her dads wouldn’t mind.”
“Thank you, oppa,” Jieun sighs. “We’ll be right over.”
Jongwoo hangs up, frowning. It’s not like Jieun to be scared, but maybe she saw the news and freaked out.
It’ll be good for her and the Ahn girl to come over. That kid is pretty lonely anyway, practically an outcast because she has two dads. Another reason why Jongwoo hates this fucking town, so prejudiced.
“Ahn Sunja and Jieun-unnie are coming over,” Jongwoo announces. Minho groans, but the girls squeal in delight, happy to have another girl to play with. They’re sweet.
Jongwoo goes back to his writing, but not even five minutes later he’s interrupted by another call from Jieun.
He picks up. “Jieun-ah, what is it? If you’re here, just knock on the — ”
A gasp comes through the line. Jongwoo furrows his brows and listens, but he doesn’t hear anything else.
“Jieun-ah?”
A few moments go by. Silence.
Then, when Jongwoo’s about to hang up and write it off as a butt-dial, he hears something else.
Breathing. It’s quiet, but it’s heavy. Deep. Like someone wants him to hear.
“Hello?”
The line goes dead.
Jongwoo’s frown deepens. What the hell?
The doorbell rings, followed by rapid knocking. Jongwoo gets up from the couch to open the door, looking down to see little Ahn Sunja standing in the porchlight, shaking.
“Sunja-ya?” Jongwoo looks behind her, but doesn’t see Jieun. Only a dark, empty street. “Where’s your unnie?”
She points in the direction of her house, not saying anything. Her eyes are big and round in fear, and Jongwoo’s instincts kick in.
“Come inside, it’s okay.” He ushers her through the door, into the living room to join the other kids. “Do you want me to call your dads?”
She nods, speaking quietly to tell Jongwoo the number. Thankfully they answer on the first ring, and the talkative one assures Jongwoo that they’ll be there to pick her up in half an hour before Jongwoo hands his phone to Sunja.
“I’m going to look for Jieun,” Jongwoo tells Minho. “Lock the door behind me, and call your parents. Don’t let the girls out of your sight, okay? You’re the man of the house, now.”
Minho puffs up his chest. “I got it!”
“I’ll be back soon, I’m just going to take a look around. I’ll know if you eat too much candy,” Jongwoo warns.
Minho scoffs at him, and Jongwoo’s satisfied. After he hears Minho lock the door behind him, he sets off to find Jieun.
Is she okay? Did she sprain her ankle on the way over here?
Although it’s Halloween, the street is deserted. The bright moon provides just enough light for Jongwoo to see, since there’s not any streetlights in this part of town. It’s cold, and Jongwoo feels the sting of it in his lungs as he breathes.
It’s quiet, too. Eerily quiet. The sound of his footsteps on the sidewalk is almost deafening in the stark silence of the night.
A few houses down from the Hong’s, Jongwoo sees something. There’s a lump next to some hedges, on the side of a house. At first he thinks it’s some mulch for gardening, but as he squints the shape seems more distinct.
He walks closer, eyes widening in horror at each step. A few feet away, it’s unmistakable and he gasps.
It’s Seokyoon. He’s laying on his back, stupid costume covered in blood that looks black in the moonlight. There’s some blood on his face too. His eyes are open, and glassy.
Fuck. He’s dead. He’s dead.
Jongwoo staggers back, back hitting the brick wall of the random house. What the fuck? How — How did this happen?
His mind is spinning, unable to comprehend. He’s never seen a dead body before. It doesn’t look like he expected. Jongwoo’s wide eyes flick to Seokyoon’s chest, noticing some puncture wounds. A knife?
The blood doesn’t look like how it does in the movies. He takes mental notes for what to change in his writing —
Someone steps past the hedge on the sidewalk, and Jongwoo’s head snaps to look.
They’re tall. Lanky, but obviously strong. Wearing a blue jumpsuit, and a weird white mask with vague facial features and fake hair that makes Jongwoo’s spine tingle. The moonlight reflects on a large butcher knife held in their hand, comfortably resting at their side.
He gets a weird sense of deja-vu, but doesn’t know why.
Jongwoo and the figure stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. He’s afraid, ready to run at any moment, but neither of them move. And fear… isn’t the only thing Jongwoo feels.
Is this Seo Moonjo?
Jongwoo heard about how he never spoke a word after killing his parents. Not in the police station, not in jail, and not in the mental hospital where they locked him away. Not talking for 30 years… Would he talk now?
Jongwoo swallows.
“He was annoying,” Jongwoo says, gesturing to Seokyoon’s body. “Thanks.”
The guy doesn’t respond, but Jongwoo can feel his eyes burning.
“Is it you?” he asks. “Seo Moonjo?”
The masked figure steps back at this, finally moving. Something in Jongwoo desperately doesn’t want him to go, and he steps forward. They continue this little dance, until the figure that Jongwoo is now sure is Seo Moonjo disappears behind the hedges once again.
Jongwoo follows him, but when he rounds the hedge there’s no one there.
Jongwoo’s heart beats loudly as he arrives at the Ahn house. Adrenaline pumps through his body along with fear, making for a new but addictive mix.
He checked all around on his way here, but didn’t find anything. No blood, no other body lying in the bushes. Where’s Jieun?
He walks up to the door, and finds it open. The lights are still on, and Jongwoo slowly walks through the house.
He finds her in the living room, slumped on the couch. There’s no blood that Jongwoo sees, but she’s not moving.
Oh no.
Jongwoo gets closer, grabbing her shoulder to shake her. Her head rolls to the side, limp, and Jongwoo sees bruises on her neck. They’re purple, in the clear outline of fingers.
Jongwoo’s hands shake as he stands up and backs away.
Jieun’s dead. She’s different than Seokyoon, Jongwoo actually liked her. Oh god, Jieun.
Thoughts race through Jongwoo’s head. At least there’s no blood or damage to the house. He hopes that Sunja didn’t see her get killed, or her dads will kill him. They’re actually scary when they want to be, even the talkative one.
Where is Seo Moonjo now? Why did he kill Jieun with his bare hands, when he stabbed Seokyoon? Usually killers stick to one modus operandi, so why is Seo Moonjo different?
Jongwoo wants to know. He wants to find him again, despite being afraid and angry.
He takes a knife from the kitchen before leaving the house. He’s not dumb enough to walk around without a weapon when there’s a killer on the loose. Although, purposefully searching for him might be pretty stupid.
Jongwoo can’t find himself to care.
He feels like a predator as he stalks through the shadows, quiet and determined. The knife tightly gripped in his hand is an extension of himself, like the claws of an animal.
He doesn’t know what he plans to do if he finds Seo Moonjo. The knife is purely for defense… or so he tells himself.
Jongwoo’s angry that Seo Moonjo came back here, when it didn’t make any sense. He’s angry that he killed Jieun, who didn’t deserve it. He’s angry that Seo Moonjo got so close, but refused to speak to him.
Jongwoo slips between houses and through yards. His eyes dart around sharply, looking for any movement in the bright moonlight. He’s covered a few blocks, but nothing.
This area of town is practically deserted, which Jongwoo assumes is the reason Seo Moonjo chose it as his hunting grounds. But no matter where he looks, the killer is nowhere to be found. There are no new bodies, either.
Maybe Seo Moonjo started here, then decided to move to an area with more victims? Jongwoo nods to himself, that makes sense.
He stubbornly does not consider that the reason he’s not finding Seo Moonjo is that he’s evading him. The killer showed himself to Jongwoo once; what if he’ll only be found if he wants to be found?
Jongwoo quickens his pace and scans his surroundings as he heads to the closest populated place — that stupid house party that Jaeho invited him to.
It’s in the nicer part of town, because of course it is. Jaeho wouldn’t be seen at a rundown house like the ones in Jongwoo’s side of town. The music is audible as Jongwoo rounds the corner and walks up the street, still looking around to see if Seo Moonjo is nearby as he approaches the loud house.
Finally, he sees something.
There’s a person walking towards him from the other end of the street. The only light is from the house in between them, and they’re not close enough for Jongwoo to make out any details. They don’t seem as tall as Seo Moonjo however, and their movements aren’t as… methodical.
When Jongwoo gets close enough to see who it is, he grimaces.
“Yah, Yoon Jongwoo!”
“Jaeho,” Jongwoo says, pressing his lips into a thin line as he casually crosses his arms behind his back to hide the knife. “Just showing up to the party?”
“It’s called being fashionably late,” Jaeho smirks. “What about you? I thought you were babysitting?” He drops his gaze. “What are you hiding behind your back?”
Jongwoo debates on how to answer. On one hand, he could tell Jaeho everything in the hopes of getting some help with stopping a serial killer. On the other hand, this thing with Seo Moonjo feels personal. Something inside Jongwoo doesn’t want to break whatever weird connection they have by bringing someone into the situation.
In the end, the slivers remaining of Jongwoo’s moral compass decide for him.
“It’s Seo Moonjo,” Jongwoo exhales, letting his hands rest at his side to show Jaeho the knife. “He’s back, and he’s already killed Seokyoon and… Jieun…”
He chokes up, still a bit in shock that this is all real, and they’re really dead. The instinct to find Seo Moonjo and stop him at all costs is delicately balanced with the shock and grief for his dead friends, and Jongwoo’s not sure how much more his sanity can take before crumbling.
Jaeho stares at him for a moment. Then, he laughs.
He actually laughs. He throws his head back with deep laughter, and Jongwoo narrows his eyes.
“You don’t believe me.”
“That’s a good joke,” Jaeho chuckles. “I heard the psycho escaped, are you using it as a Halloween prank? It’s a good one!”
“It’s not a prank,” Jongwoo grits out. “It’s actually happening.”
“Sure, sure,” Jaeho smiles. “I mean, if it is real, what are you going to do about it? Use that dull kitchen knife? You’re like a twig, you’re not strong enough to do any damage with that!”
Jongwoo grips the knife tighter, his anger growing. Jaeho never misses an opportunity to prove his superiority over others, especially Jongwoo. Jongwoo itches to make him shut the fuck up.
“Hahaha, you know, I have a few expensive, good quality knives if you want to use them for your prank. My father got them for my birthday, they could do some real damage compared to that cheap thing — ”
Jongwoo’s entire body is tense like a taut string, ready to snap. He’s fucking sick of Jaeho looking down on him, of always throwing their class difference in his face —
“— but you should really change up your prank. I mean, who’d be scared of you?”
Jaeho laughs and laughs, like Jongwoo actually being violent is the funniest thing he can imagine. Like he’s not a threat, because he’s poor and can’t afford to go to the gym or have deadlier weapons. Like he’s nothing.
Just like that, the string inside Jongwoo snaps.
Moving purely on instinct, Jongwoo lunges forward and stabs the knife in Jaeho’s chest.
He keeps a firm grip as he stabs and stabs, ignoring Jaeho’s pathetic cries and gurgles as blood runs everywhere. All Jongwoo can focus on is rage, pure blinding rage, that floods his entire body after a lifetime of holding back.
Jongwoo doesn’t count how many times he stabs Jaeho, but by the time he finally slows down, the asshole’s shirt is shredded and his chest is a bloody, gory mess.
It’s only then that Jongwoo realizes how alive he feels.
He’s breathing hard, the cool night air filling his lungs. His entire body is shaking with energy and residual anger, and he feels every single inch like a live wire. He looks down at his hands, slick with dark blood and one hand still clutching the knife.
He’s never been as connected to his body as he is in that moment, basking in the aftermath of killing. He realizes exactly what he’s done, and can’t bring himself to regret it. The slivers of his conscience that existed a few minutes ago have been obliterated, and Jongwoo’s never felt so good.
Jongwoo never wants this moment to end.
The crunch of leaves makes his head snap up, his senses going into overdrive. Did someone see? Will he have to kill a witness? He can blame Jaeho’s murder on Seo Moonjo, a plan starting to piece itself together in his mind, but —
As Jongwoo’s eyes dart around, trying to catch whoever’s out here, a familiar figure steps out from behind a nearby tree.
It’s him.
If the white mask wasn’t enough, the way the tall figure moves is unmistakable. Slow and sure, like every step is calculated. Because it is.
Seo Moonjo witnessed Jongwoo kill someone, and decided to make contact once again.
Jongwoo slowly gets to his feet, leaving Jaeho dead on the ground. Seo Moonjo comes closer, much closer than last time. Jongwoo doesn’t move, doesn’t back away, as the serial killer comes to a stop a mere foot away.
He’s so close that Jongwoo can hear him breathe heavily behind the mask. He’s still carrying the knife, but unlike Jongwoo’s it’s newly cleaned of blood.
He doesn’t say a single word.
Jongwoo’s fingers play on the handle of his knife. He’s not going to make the first move — why would he, when he has no real desire to kill Seo Moonjo — but he will defend himself if it comes to that.
He hates that he has to look up at the man, because he’s so fucking tall.
It’s really no surprise that this imposing man killed his parents when he was just a kid. Jongwoo doubts he’d ever really been a kid.
Jongwoo’s still breathing fast, his heart pounding in his chest. The adrenaline from killing Jaeho hasn’t worn off, only intensified by being this close to real danger.
Seo Moonjo lifts his hand, the one not holding the knife.
He still hasn’t said anything.
Jongwoo watches as he pulls the mask off and throws it to the side.
Jongwoo’s heart finally slows, stuttering in his chest, as the moonlight reveals the true visage of Seo Moonjo.
He’s beautiful. Full, inky black hair frames his pale face with features so unique Jongwoo is helpless to look away. Seo Moonjo’s mouth is apple-red, and his eyes are dark as they stare directly into Jongwoo’s soul.
Slowly, those lips curl up into an unsettling smile.
And for the first time — possibly ever — he speaks.
“Jagiya.”