Black Book (2): The First Rule
Even though she'd left the Black Book in the cafe's lost and found, it had toddled after her all the way to Eunha's apartment. She decided to ignore it for now and headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Tonight's meal was simple and delicious: soy sauce egg fried rice. The rice cooker still had some left over, so all she needed to do was fry up some eggs.
What should I eat tomorrow? Do I have any ramen at home? Already worrying about tomorrow's dinner, she pulled some eggs from the fridge. Living alone had its downsides like this. It was such a hassle that she sometimes considered just ordering delivery, but lately, with all the villain terror threats driving up delivery fees to insane levels, cooking at home was cheaper all around.
"Huh? No salt... Well, I've got soy sauce, so it should be fine." She added oil to the frying pan, cracked in the eggs, and grabbed the salt and soy sauce from the cabinet. There was barely any salt left—too little for cooking, but too much to just toss. She'd forgotten to buy more amid yesterday's and today's chaos. With no choice, she decided to season with soy sauce instead and sprinkled the remaining salt over the eggs. Eunha tossed the empty salt packet into the trash.
And just like that, her dinner was served: warm rice topped with golden-brown fried eggs.
Thump. Thump.
Even focusing on the cooking couldn't stop her heart from pounding, and her fingers trembled cold as if dipped in ice water when she grabbed her chopsticks. It was no wonder her gaze kept drifting to the Black Book on the table. What if it moved when she looked away? What if a monster burst out like in a horror flick? Her mind filled with wild thoughts.
"It's fine. A new, unfamiliar thing shows up in your house—who wouldn't stare?" Eunha grabbed her rice bowl and soy sauce and headed to the living room. Her appetite returning at the thought of eating, she returned to find the Black Book still greeting her from the table. Her mood sank instantly as she stared down at the mysterious tome. It hadn't vanished while she was in the kitchen... Not that it would have been better if it had.
Eunha set her bowl and soy sauce bottle next to the book and sank onto the sofa.
Ah. Grabbed the chopsticks even though I'm using a spoon... Too lazy to take them back.
Beep—.
She roughly mixed the steaming soy sauce egg rice with her spoon and turned on the TV. Thump thump. She patted her chest to steady her nerves.
The TV was playing a news program titled Hunter 24/7. The hot topic, predictably, was yesterday's Hunter Promotion Exam. Some guild prodigy challenged for promotion. The written test was tougher this time. Someone got their arm severed during the practical and was carted off to the hospital... More or less that kind of news. Stories that only made a perennial F-rank hunter like her feel stifled.
"Next up: Kwak Sun-woong, a B-rank hunter from the Changcheon Sword Clan—one of Korea's four major guilds—has failed to promote to A-rank in this exam, with disappointing results."
"Kwak Sun-woong is a B-rank hunter known for never giving up. Despite failing to breach the A-rank wall twice before, he rose again with encouragement from countless fans and guildmates."
"But he couldn't achieve his dream of becoming an A-rank this time either, leading to criticism that perhaps his potential has run dry..."
"Lucky guy. He's only failed three times." Eunha chuckled hollowly, chewing on the gossip from the news.
The Kwak Sun-woong on TV right now... She'd seen him yesterday at the exam hall. He'd sat right next to her during the written test. "Honored to sit next to the promotion exam ghost," he'd muttered toward her like she was some Buddha statue. Honestly, it creeped her out. If he failed sitting there, who would he blame?
Serves him right for casually wishing on a stray ghost like the exam haunt... Look at that. Bad luck clung to him and he tanked.
Ring ring~ Ring riing~ Ring ring~ Riiing~
Then her smartphone rang. Wondering who it could be this late, she checked the caller: Eunbangul. Eunha quickly lowered the TV volume and answered.
"Yeah, Bangul? What's up?"
— Do I have to have a reason to call~?
The voice from the phone was like tinkling jade beads. Her bright, joyful girl's tone lightened Eunha's mood too. Thump. Thump. She patted her chest again and continued the call.
— Actually, I called because I was worried. Your face looked really bad before you left the cafe. How are you now? If you're struggling, I'll come over.
"I'm good. Must've just felt off for a bit."
She vaguely brushed off the girl's offer. If she complained here, Eunbangul would fly straight over. Telling her about visions of strange monsters at the cafe would just worry her—no point spilling yet. This stayed her secret for now.
...Secret, huh. Yeah. Secrets are good.
Then her eyes fell on the Black Book on the table. Eunbangul had touched it at the cafe too... Was she okay? Might as well ask.
"You doing alright, Bangul?"
— Huh? Doing alright with what? I'm fine as you can see.
"That Black Book from the cafe earlier. The one in lost and found."
— Uh... What book?
"Anything weird after touching it? Hallucinations or strange stuff appearing at home?"
Eunbangul paused at Eunha's dead-serious question—not like she had a clue, but more bewildered on how to respond. A brief silence. The Black Book's presence suddenly loomed larger. Finally, settling on words, Eunbangul replied in a gentle tone, as if truly concerned for Eunha...
And her sweet girl's answer was plenty to chill Eunha to the bone.
— Hmm... Was there any lost and found today?
"What?"
— No lost and found. Definitely~... Beep—.
The call cut off. Leaving countless questions behind. Like waking from a dream—in an instant.
"...At least finish your sentence..."
Muttering pitifully, Eunha stared at her smartphone. The call with the girl was disconnected, the screen showing signal loss. Her expression hardened by the second. Signal loss in a capital-area apartment? Possible? Eunbangul's claim of no lost and found nagged too.
All she saw was the TV news droning quietly. All she heard was her own pounding heart. All she felt was winter-cold air.
The Black Book on the table started feeling far more dangerous.
"...Haa."
She shoved soy sauce egg rice into her mouth, trying to finish dinner somehow. It stuck in her throat like it was clogged. Eunha sighed and set down her spoon. The Black Book felt like it was choking her. If only there was a way to figure out what the damn thing was for. Toss a whole book at her out of nowhere—what was she supposed to do?
Eunha poked at the Black Book, then used her chopsticks to flip the cover and peek inside.
"Look at this. No writing at all."
As she'd checked at the cafe, nothing was written. Titleless black book. Pitch-black pages. Blood-dark bookmark. She prodded everywhere with chopsticks, hunting secret ink, but it was all black. No... It needed something written to react, right? Teasing her like this—what was the point? She was getting annoyed now. Creepy was only fun briefly. Maybe chuck it in the trash.
Rustle...
As she set down the chopsticks and examined it barehanded, something snagged in Eunha's fingers. She flinched, yanking her hand back from the book.
No way, to someone who can't even watch horror alone... What the hell.
Calming her startled heart, she inspected the Black Book. Tucked blatantly between the pages was a blood-dark 'bookmark'.
Thump. Thump.
That inexplicable unease from first seeing the Black Book at the cafe. Eunha quietly turned off the TV and peered at the bookmark. A jet-black rectangular slip like ink. The protruding edge bore a drawing: someone making a window with thumb and forefinger, peeking through. Finger window. At its center, a massive eyeball. The picture was blood-red, starkly eye-catching. That's how she knew. No such bookmark had been there moments ago.
"......"
Hesitating, Eunha touched the bookmark. Blood-dark liquid smeared thick on her fingers. A fishy iron tang stung her nose.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Had she touched wrong? Her heart raced unfamiliarly. Eunha flipped to the page marked by the bookmark.
".........What the..."
Words appeared in the book. A real artifact? The marked page reeked of blood, and on the pitch-black paper, 'red letters' etched clearly.
She swallowed hard and read.
Sticky blood-written guide. Eunha reread the Black Book's contents over and over, scratching her head. What was this?
Creepypasta? A rules horror story?... Pretty well-made. Gave me chills. Hope nothing happens.
She recalled internet creepypastas like this. Complex unexplained rules, leaving consequences for breaking them as a blank MacGuffin. Readers inferred the gaps, imagining what they'd do if they got such a rulebook—feeling the dread. The so-called 'rules horror' genre.
Creepypasta in this day and age? Laughable. Rifts spawning monsters, people awakening skills—this era had no room for ghosts. A story about waking up as a kid would be scarier.
......
Knock knock knock.
And the moment Eunha understood the book's contents and lifted her head, a knocking sounded at the front door.