The Seventh Ghost Story - Psychopath Test (3)

Sunset bathes the rooftop of the broadcasting station. Seon-ah and I lean against the railing, taking in the view.

"Seon-ah is a yandere."

"Yan... dere?"

"Seon-ah is a yandere."

Seon-ah tilts her head, looking utterly confused.

"Hiding a cutter knife in your pocket and pretending otherwise..."

"Y-You've... figured it out..."

With a sharp shink, Seon-ah pulls out a pink cutter knife.

"J-Joon-ah... From now on, Joon's house is our fridge..."

Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab.

"Aaaah...!"

* * *

"Ahh... ugh...?"

I crack my eyes open blearily. It's still the dead of night. My bedroom. The pale blue light of the full moon pierces through the curtains, spilling into the room.

What time is it?

I open my status window like always to check the time.

2 a.m. Still five whole hours left to sleep.

Jackpot.

Waking up with hours still to go always feels like a win. I drift off happily again.

"Seon-ah is a yandere."

"Seon-ah is a yandere."

"Y-You've figured it out... Live in our fridge at my house, Joon-ah..."

Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab.

"Agh, ugh...?"

I crack my eyes open blearily. It's still the dead of night. My bedroom. The pale blue light of the full moon pierces through the curtains, spilling into the room.

What time is it?

I open my status window like always to check the time.

What the hell? Still five hours to go.

I think I had this same thought before—waking up midway but with tons of time left feels like a steal—but anyway, I drift off happily again.

"Seon-ah is a yandere~"

"Yandere?"

"They say Seon-ah is a yandere~"

"You've figured it out, Joon-ah..."

Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab.

"...Ugh."

I open my eyes. Still the dead of night. Moonlight floods the room.

What's going on? It's still pitch black... Feels like I've been out for ages.

Have I just been tossing and turning? My mind feels rested, but my body is still exhausted. I open my status window to check the time.

No way. Not even a minute's passed. I just fell asleep and woke right up.

I can't fight the overwhelming drowsiness and slip back under.

"Seon-ah is a yan—"

Wait, this feels familiar...

"Huh...?"

Sunset pours down on the broadcasting station rooftop. A ruined cityscape. Seon-ah stares at me blankly, gripping a cutter knife.

A dream?

I start reality checks like Gyeong-won taught me during the Dream within Dream ghost story—bending my fingers backward, pinching my nose and trying to breathe.

"Joon-ah, what are you...?"

"Lemme see. Like this... Phew. Yeah, definitely a dream."

My finger bends all the way up my arm like rubber. I breathe fine with my nose plugged.

"This is the third time I've had the same dream."

The Seon-ah in front of me tilts her head.

"Ugh...?"

I nod and explain.

"No matter how much I wake up, time isn't passing, and I keep having the same dream."

"This is inside a dream. You're not the real Seon-ah—you're a fake my subconscious cooked up."

"I'm... fake?"

Fake Seon-ah mutters blankly.

"Yeah. Anyway, I need to wake up and confirm. Mind butchering me like before?"

The easiest way to wake from a dream is to die. I've been killed by dream-Seon-ah, woken briefly to check the time on my status window, fallen back asleep, dreamed the same thing, and repeated. Weirdly, no time passes in the process.

"Come on, quick. Kill me!"

I stretch out my arms and bare my neck to her.

Seon-ah flinches back.

"What? Hurry up and kill me!"

"H-How could I stab Joon...?"

She trembles as she answers.

"You did it fine before!"

"I-I've never...!"

Right. Since the dream resets, she doesn't remember.

...Does this even make sense?

Brain's not firing right—must be the dream. Whatever, I yell at her.

"You stabbed me good last time! I gotta wake up—stab me!"

"Just jump off the roof..."

"That's scary as hell!"

"N-No... I can't do that..."

She cowers like a terrified hamster, backing far away.

Damn it. No choice—gotta jump.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Huff, huff.

My legs shake as I climb the railing. I hesitate a bunch, squeeze my eyes shut, and leap.

"Whaaaaaaaaaa—!!!"

"Aaaah?!"

I scream my lungs out, but when I wake, it's just a groan. Eyes open—still the dead of night, on my bed. The full moon bathes the dark room in blue. Mind feels rested for ages, but body fatigue lingers. I rub sleepy eyes and check the status window.

It was stuck at 2:07 before—now it's about ten minutes later. What does that mean? Head's too foggy from sleep, but I mull it over.

Eyes open to the same time. Repeating dream. Fatigue that won't lift no matter how long I sleep.

Where does fatigue come from? The body.

Eliminate the body. Find and remove the source—that's true recovery, right?

Zzz.

Sitting up, my thoughts drift weirdly as I doze. I nod off, then snap awake at a strange noise from the living room.

Swish.

I bolt up. Quiet house. Did I imagine it?

Swish—swish.

No. Someone's here. Footsteps beyond my closed door—socks brushing the floor.

Swish—swish.

Deliberately quiet steps, slow and careful to avoid detection. Not my parents—who sneaks around their own house like that?

Someone's inside.

Swish—swish.

Getting closer.

Locking the door now would make too much noise.

I quietly straighten the blanket, planning to hide under the bed like nothing's wrong.

Swish—swish.

Pause.

As I fold the blanket neatly at right angles, whoever it is stops right outside the door.

Creak—

They turn the knob slowly, silently. I hold my breath and crawl under the bed just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as—

Scrape—creeeak.

Door opens. I barely tuck my last leg in. Success.

Door fully open. From my narrow view under the bed, I see ankles. Long coat hem dragging by their feet—burberry style?

Swish—swish.

The intruder steps slowly into the room. Stops right at the bed.

Black socks inches from my face. I clap hands over mouth and nose—don't want even breathing to give me away. Instead, I breathe slow and deep through my wide-open mouth.

Thud!

Suddenly, the intruder climbs onto my bed and—

Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab.

—goes wild stabbing something.

Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab.

The mattress heaves right above me. I'm lying directly beneath.

I squeeze my eyes shut. They're stabbing my empty bed like mad.

After forever, they climb down slowly and leave the room.

Huff, huff.

I finally exhale, steadying my pounding heart.

Click. Creeeak.

Sound of the parents' bedroom door opening.

"Who's—urk."

Mom's voice. A scuffle—thud thud—then silence.

This bastard... did he get my parents?

Heavy footsteps head to the living room. Front door opens and shuts.

I scramble out from under the bed and rush to the parents' room.

"M-Mom, Dad!"

I kick open the half-open door.

Huff, huff.

There they are—bodies slashed to ribbons, bleeding out. Mom on the bed, Dad slumped half-sitting on the floor. Moonlight casts a sickly blue glow on their lifeless faces.

Huff, huff, huff.

No. No. No.

"Mom... Dad... Mom, Dad..."

I clutch their still-warm necks.

Huff... fuck... no... this can't... huff, huff.

A dizzying wave crashes over me, mind on the brink.

Swish.

Presence behind me. I whirl— the intruder stands in the doorway.

"Pretended to leave."

The burberry-coated figure speaks, knife in hand.

"Shoe prints didn't match. Knew you were under the bed the whole time."

Huff, huff.

I back away slowly.

"You... fucking bastard. You killed my parents?!"

The intruder raises the knife and advances.

"Question nine. You sneaked into a house and killed the people there. But you found a child totally unrelated to your goal. You killed the kid too. Why?"

Huff, huff.

Neutral voice. Sunglasses, mask, hat pulled low, burberry coat.

"Normal answer: afraid the kid saw your face and snitches. Psycho answer's different, they say."

"Fucking... bastard."

I grope sideways for a weapon—pillow, blanket. Nothing. They charge. No time to block—the knife plunges into my gut.

"Guhk, guhk!"

Skin parts, cold metal invades—nauseating foreign sensation.

"Psychopath answer: To reunite them in the afterlife."

"Seon-ah is a yandere—"

I freeze.

Broadcasting station rooftop. Seon-ah holds the cutter knife.

"Joon-ah, what's wrong?"

She looks at me strangely as I trail off.

Got it. That's what happened.

I've been dying nonstop while sleeping. Checkpoint's around 2 ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a.m.—I'm dreaming of Seon-ah then.

At 2:07, dream-Seon-ah kills me. I wake briefly, check status window time.

Thrilled at five hours left, sleep again—now 2:17. Intruder kills sleeping me.

Reset to 2 a.m., asleep, looping the dream I was having.

Mind rewound twenty minutes, but body still asleep, trapped repeating the dream.

"...Whew. See ya, Seon-ah."

I vault the railing.

"J-Joon-ah...! Where! Joon-ah!"

"Gotta punish someone. Bye."

"Don't go! Don't go, Joon-ah!"

I ignore her desperate pleas, squeeze my eyes shut, and jump from the rooftop.

"Uwoooooh—!"

Whooooosh—thud!

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