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Knock knock knock.
The knocking on his front door is persistent as always. He pays it no mind.
He was startled awake by the loud noise coming from the entrance hallway of his apartment at 3 am. He’s grown accustomed to it by now. Trying to fall asleep again until dawn was a useless endeavour, as he’d discovered. His only hope was passing out from the exhaustion before then.
As he sat in the dimly lit kitchen, drinking a warm cup of tea in a futile attempt at soothing his nerves, his phone lights up with a notification.
Menace №1: open the door, maknae-yah :(
Huffing at the outrageous message, he turns the device off completely. So, it’s that bastard’s turn, huh. At that exact moment, the knocking comes to a halt. Involuntarily, his breathing stops for a second.
His phone starts vibrating instead, indicating an incoming call. That was a first.
He sighs, struggling to ignore the sticky feeling of dread spreading through his whole body.
He doesn’t pick up the phone, opting to return to his bedroom. The phone stays lying on the kitchen table.
Knock knock knock.
Passing by the entrance hall, he hesitates for a split second.
On the first night, he didn’t know any better; keeping quiet, he walked up to the door, taking a cautious look through the peephole.
He was met with a single unblinking red eye staring back at him. Then, he caught a glimpse of pale white skin, marred with inky black lines reminiscent of blood vessels. Except, whatever this creature had flowing inside it, it was not human blood.
Gripped with fear, he lost all feeling in his body, unable to move a limb. He wanted to scream, wanted to get as far away from this door as possible. Only when his vision got blurry and he ended up blinking once, the figure behind his door vanished. His sanity disappearing along with it.
Nothing else happened for the rest of the night.
And that was the beginning of his ‘sleepless night series’, marked with ‘horror’ as its main genre.
Now, sending the last glare at the pesky front door, he makes his way to the bedroom. After much trial-and-error he swore to himself never to fall for such cheap tricks again.
As he exits the apartment, he spots a clump of black feathers lying in front of his door. Brows furrowed, he bends down to take a good look. He’s no ornithologist, but he doubts a feather this size could belong to a raven or any other bird. He feels a knot tightening in his stomach.
Unable to bear the disturbing sight any longer, he straightens and walks out the apartment building.
“I should clear my head, grab a coffee,” he thinks.
He doesn’t want to spoil his date’s mood, after all.
It’s been a month since he met his lover. A strange, fortuitous encounter.
A look that lasted a second too long, a familiar book in the hands of a stranger.
“Do you, perhaps, know this novel? My friend recommended it to me. It’s not a very well-known title, but the plotline is rumoured to be fascinating, as well as its philosophical implications.”
He didn’t expect this person to notice the recognition in his eyes, let alone address it.
“Yes, I’ve… I’ve read it,” he mumbled foolishly.
A spark of curiosity flickered in the deep brown eyes. Then, rosy lips curved up in a gentle smile.
“Would you like to meet for a coffee sometime? I feel like we could have a good time discussing the novel, among other things.”
He couldn’t lie to himself and deny this stranger’s sudden appeal.
“Okay.”
It’s been a month since Lee Hakhyun met Kim Dokja. And ever since that day, he’s been haunted by an ominous presence.
…He can’t have anything good in his life, can he?
The first encounter was as follows.
Struck with a sudden surge of inspiration – or out of the urgent need to pay the bills – he stayed up until late at night, vigorously typing on his keyboard, small lines of text emerging and disappearing every second. He really couldn’t afford to fall behind his uploading schedule.
Partially satisfied with the finished outline for the next chapter, he closes the laptop. Yawning, he stretches to relieve the tension in his muscles. Wiping the reflex tears from his eyes, he stands up, making his way to the bathroom.
Something catches his eye, causing him to freeze in place.
He does a double take.
There must be something wrong in the way of lamp light falling on his figure, making his shadow look. Like this.
What looks like a pair of horns appears to be growing from his head, moving at exactly the same time he does. Instinctively raising his hand to feel it, he then turns around to check for anything behind him. Seeing nothing unusual, he gets startled by the loud bangs coming from his front door.
Knock knock knock.
He soon regrets his decision to check it.
He’s never dated anyone in his 28 years of life. Neither has his lover.
They’re both very clumsy when it comes to close personal relationships and displays of affection, but they’re learning, going at a comfortable pace.
Coffee dates, messaging, buying small gifts of appreciation, holding hands.
Kim Dokja took most of the initiative in their relationship, with Lee Hakhyun eagerly following and accepting whatever Kim Dokja wanted to give him.
Now, the charming man who held Lee Hakhyun’s writing in his hands when they first met, was holding Lee Hakhyun’s very heart.
He truly was smitten by the existence that was Kim Dokja. When he learnt of his story, his life and his character he couldn’t help but think the man was fit to be a novel’s protagonist. Despite his unfortunate childhood, he grew up to be a strong and kind man. The fact he was still here was the very proof of how full of love he was – he was driven to survive by love, love of stories and love of people who wrote stories.
The fact that such a person existed really made Lee Hakhyun be glad of not giving up on his career as a writer.
He soon realised he was haunted not by one but two entities, with their own distinct features and patterns.
The loud and annoying thing with horns and wings – he got accustomed to it, okay. It was creepy as hell, depriving him of a good night’s sleep, but overall didn’t seem to be harmful as long as he didn’t open that door and continued to ignore it, keeping the distance.
That’s why he never anticipated to be awoken with a touch.
A soft, ticklish sensation was what his drowsy mind registered at first. The feeling gradually increased – in a slow yet steady progression. Gliding all over his body, he felt it embracing him. He realised they were limbs, smooth and slimy – akin to cephalopods’ tentacles. And that realisation shook off the last remnants of sleep.
He was fully awake and alert, yet paralysed with fear and the actual physical presence restricting his movements. Despite the tentacles being soft and squishy – he manages to touch and squeeze some part of it sliding through his right hand’s fingers – they were sturdy; strong suckers gripping onto his body, making them impossible to get rid of.
When they made it to his face he thought he was going to die. He pictured the scenario perfectly: in a matter of seconds they’d get into his mouth and cover his nose to restrict the airway, making him fruitlessly struggle for air, choke and suffocate. What a gruesome and unsatisfying way to go.
He thinks of Kim Dokja. His beautiful, gentle and oh so wonderful boyfriend. The memory of him comes with a pang of regret. He shouldn’t have neglected this matter, let it escalate like this. He should’ve told someone, anyone, and tried to deal with it. No matter how crazy he might’ve seemed.
Because Kim Dokja would be sad if he died. He would probably even cry because of him. He was a kind soul like that.
“N-no… I,” he realised the dampness on his cheeks wasn’t mucus but his own tears. “Please, I don’t want to die. I don’t want to make him sad.”
For a moment, the tentacle’s movements stopped. Then, it was softly caressing his cheek, as if trying to wipe his tears away.
He thought he heard a voice. He didn’t know where it was coming from. Perhaps, it was his own broken mind playing tricks on him.
“Sad… I hate being sad.”
Body completely exhausted and mind reeling, he closed his eyes. Never expecting to be able to open them again.
The next morning felt abnormal in its normalcy. He was alone in his apartment, surprisingly alive. No traces of anything being here, terrorising him with its touch.
The first thing he thinks to do is grabbing his phone and calling the very object of his desperate thoughts last night.
“Hello? Hyung?” he speaks up as soon as the line connects, internally cringing at how frantic he sounds.
“Good morning, Hakhyun-ah,” hearing Kim Dokja’s calm voice immediately puts him at ease. Though the man soon picks up on his odd behaviour, “Is something the matter? It’s unusual of you to call me this early.”
“Um, it’s nothing, don’t worry. It’s actually kind of silly…” he paused, not ready to explain the real reason behind his call yet. “I just had a really bad nightmare last night, so I wanted to hear your voice.”
“Oh, Hakhyun-ah… Are you okay now? I can come over, if you want.”
As tempting as that offer sounds, he doesn’t think he’s ready for Kim Dokja to see him in this state. He was a mess through and through, still shaken and vulnerable in his racing thoughts. They haven’t been dating for that long, he doesn’t want to spoil his image in his boyfriend’s mind so soon.
“It’s okay, hyung. I’m feeling a lot better now that I’ve heard you.”
“All right. Don’t hesitate to reach out to me anytime. I know we haven’t been together very long, but I truly care about you. I wouldn’t even mind you calling me in the middle of the night because of a nightmare, you know.”
Deeply moved, he was at a loss for words. How did he get so lucky to meet this man?
“Because I love you, Hakhyun-ah.”
Scratch that, how did he get so lucky to make this man fall in love with him?
After another few minutes of chatting – with very flustered and totally distracted from his previous worries Lee Hakhyun and evidently very smug Kim Dokja – they exchange their goodbyes, ending the call.
Looking at the screen now, he realises he has an unread notification on his messaging app. Without a second thought, he opens it.
Unknown number: I don’t like sad stories. So, don’t be sad, maknae.
Goddamnit.