Red Woman (1)
Knock knock knock... The sound of someone rapping on the front door. Eunha quietly rose from the sofa. The temperature had dropped to a bone-chilling cold. Her smartphone displayed "out of service area." In the living room where the knocking echoed, she stared down at the Black Book on the table.
Guide to a Safe Life at Home
1. If someone knocks on your front door,
first check outside through the peephole.
The words written in the Black Book. The timing was too perfect. The knocking started right after she read the "guide." Was this a hidden camera prank? She'd even forgive it with a laugh if it was.
Knock knock knock. Meanwhile, whatever was out there kept knocking. Not ringing the doorbell, as if it knew Eunha was home.
Think positive. Could just be a drunk neighbor banging on the wrong door.
Forcing a smile, she checked the Black Book again. According to the "guide," she had to check outside through the peephole when she heard knocking. Was that really it? Even as she read, doubt clouded her face. There had to be a reason for these instructions, and what happened if she didn't follow them? It was all unknowns.
Maybe if I ignore it, it'll go away? Even door-to-door salesmen leave if you pretend no one's home.
Clinging to futile hopes, she shuffled toward the door. Careful not to make footsteps, lips pressed tight lest her breathing give her away, she crept along—then suddenly veered into the kitchen and grabbed a kitchen knife. Just in case. This wasn't normal; she needed something to protect herself.
If it's just a regular neighbor, I'll look like a psycho opening the door with a knife... but better that than the alternative.
Staring at the knife glinting under the fluorescent light, courage welled up unbidden. Fail the exam thirty times and who wouldn't snap?
Euncheon-gu's soft fist, now armed with bravery, stood tall before the front door.
"...No peephole in our place."
And just like that, upon reaching the door, she hit another snag. There was no peephole. Wasn't a peephole that round lens in the middle of the door for checking outside? Old apartments had them, but modern homes mostly just had intercoms for security.
Knock knock knock. Knock. Knock knock knock.
"Hey, quiet down a sec. My head hurts."
Knockk... The knocking stopped.
Eunha fell into thought. No peephole. Using the intercom felt off too—the book specifically said "peephole." Messing with the intercom might count as not following the guide properly, making it her fault if something went wrong. But she couldn't just open the door...
All sorts of useless thoughts swirled in her head, wasting time.
......Knock. Knock knock knock.
After pacing by the door a bit, Eunha finally gave up and trudged back to the living room, collapsing onto the sofa. She'd pretend not to be home. She wanted to follow the guide, but no peephole meant she couldn't. Time wasted, but blaming it on circumstances eased her mind.
With a lighter heart, she looked down at the Black Book.
Guide to a Safe Life at Home
1. If someone knocks on your front door,
first check outside through the intercom.
If you see a woman in a red dress standing there, immediately put salt in your mouth and hide in the bathroom.
The front door will open on its own, and "it" will search everywhere except the bathroom for about 10 minutes before quietly leaving.
This must be done within 3 minutes.
Did it read her mind? The "peephole" part had changed to "intercom." Like it was telling her not to ignore it. Urging her back to the door.
Clunk! Eunha jolted up from the sofa, scanning the living room. No sign of surveillance cameras.
Knock knock knock. Knock knock knock. The knocking persisted.
"...Coming."
Dragging her heavy heart and knife back to the door. She was tired. Ghost, person, whatever—just end this. Might be nothing. Pressing the intercom camera button.
Beep—.
The screen lit up, and the knocking stopped dead, as if waiting.
How'd it know?
An unshakable unease clung like syrup. Glaring at the silent door for a moment, Eunha took a shallow breath and checked the screen.
...The intercom was pitch black. Nothing visible. Broken? She jabbed the camera button repeatedly, but the screen stayed obscured black.
Frowning, she peered intently at the intercom.
Drip—.
As she leaned in close, an eye filled the screen... blinking. The black pupil twitched eerily across the display.
Blink. Blink.
The reason for the blackness was simple. "It" was plastered to the wall, face smashed right up to the camera lens.
The jet-black eye filled the screen. A chilling gaze peered through the lens.
“...Found you.”
Then "it" smiled. Crescent-moon eyes locked straight onto Eunha through the camera.
Thud crash!
Was this possible? Having met "its" gaze, Eunha stumbled back like fleeing a monster.
The presence beyond the door withdrew silently from the intercom.
Splash.
Wet footsteps. Only then could Eunha make out its form.
Splash.
"It" appeared on the intercom. She clamped a hand over her mouth instinctively, stifling the scream bubbling up.
“.......”
The Red Woman. A woman splattered in blood from head to toe. Dripping gore, grinning at the camera.
Her dress was dyed so red its original color was unknowable. In one hand, a bloodied rusty saw.
The saw's jagged, rusted teeth looked questionable for cutting anything, and the droplets trailing from it bluntly revealed its recent use. No doubt getting sliced by that thing would hurt like hell. Jagged blade tearing flesh.
“One... two... three...”
Immediately, "it" began counting, lips curling like a crescent in childish glee—like a kid playing hide-and-seek, thrilled as the seeker hunting prey.
“Seven... eight... nine...”
The eerie voice whispered in her ear. She whipped her head around—nothing there. Plugging her ears didn't help; "its" voice rang clear. Like a lover murmuring sweet nothings. Cold breath trailed across her cheek.
“Twenty-one... twenty-two...”
Primal survival terror gripped her throat. Breath ragged, she gulped. Clutching the knife tight, she bolted to the living room where the Black Book lay.
"Huff... huff..."
No doubt about it—the Red Woman from the Black Book. What the hell was that book? Did it summon the monster? Or warn her in advance?
Either way, "it" had seen Eunha. Clearly, through the intercom. She inwardly cursed the crystal-clear high-def camera. Fancy apartment blues.
"It's fine. Stay positive... yeah. Just follow the book."
Rushing to the living room, she snatched the Black Book. The Red Woman had appeared just as described. So calmly following the next steps should let her escape unscathed. The Black Book was her only solution now.
Clinging to faint hope, she read again.
If you see a woman in a red dress standing there, immediately put salt in your mouth and hide in the bathroom.
The front door will open on its own, and "it" will search everywhere except the bathroom for about 10 minutes before quietly leaving.
This must be done within 3 minutes.
The book said: salt in mouth, hide in bathroom. Simple rule.
Salt... pretty sure I used the last of it in dinner.
No salt. Eunha rubbed her forehead. Should've watched the sodium.
“Seventy-five... seventy-six... seventy-seven...”
Hurling the Black Book onto the sofa, she dashed to the kitchen. Salt in mouth and bathroom hideout within 3 minutes. But rummaging through cabinets yielded no spare salt.
When did the 3 minutes start? First knock? When I saw it?
Was "it" counting her timer? She wanted to cry. Tears had salt—maybe sob it out in the bathroom? Would fried eggs with salt count if shoved in her mouth? Useless questions amid panic.
Hand on her pounding, soft chest, she racked her rarely used brain.
Jump out the window? Ninth floor? What if it follows? Jump and grab salt before it catches—wait! Salt!
Suddenly, a pathetic idea sparked.
Salt. Sodium chloride. Salty things? Mostly salt.
Soy sauce! You're salt today!
Back to the living room, she uncapped the soy sauce bottle on the table and chugged straight from it. Tongue shriveling, face scrunched, but she held it in her mouth.
"Urk... glrk...!"
“One-sixty... one-sixty-one... one-sixty-two...”
Nauseous. But not enough. She ran to the kitchen, snatching the empty salt packet from the trash. Empty, but talisman enough.
Good enough! I did my part!
Suppressing the urge to puke after downing the soy sauce, she flung the empty bottle to the floor and scrambled into the bathroom.
Just then—
“One-seventy-nine...... one-eighty.”
Click—.
The front door opened, and the Red Woman entered the home.