The Call That Changed Everything
For my daughter...
Jun-hee, startled out of his wits, glanced at the phone he'd left beside him. On the screen of the outdated device, another call was coming in from a restricted number. Aah! He could tell without answering. He knew instinctively that whatever it was had finally ended its brief dormant period and begun hunting again. With a face tight with tension, he lifted the phone. Four full days had passed since the last contact. His heart started hammering as if it would explode.
"H-hello?"
No answer came. Even so, he could sense it. There was definitely a presence on the other end of the line. He thought he could hear the faintest sound of breathing. Was it wary? Afraid the young priest might interfere again? Or was it the one who was scared? Such thoughts swirled through his mind. He swallowed hard and asked once more.
"Soyeon? It's you, isn't it, Soyeon?"
Jun-hee called her name.
"Soyeon, where are you? Tell me, please. I'll come right now. Just say where you are! I'm begging you..."
"Honey..."
The voice finally came through. Had it lowered its guard? It might still believe he thought the mimicked voice was really hers. Jun-hee's heart began pounding again, harder this time. A storm of emotions surged up inside him—pity for Soyeon, sorrow, and above all, a rage that threatened to consume him. He forced it all down. He had already planned his response. If the call came, he knew exactly what to say.
"Yeah... it's me..."
His voice shook badly. Ah! It felt like the tears would spill over any second. If Soyeon was truly dead, the mere thought was enough to rip his chest to shreds. And if she was somehow still alive, imagining what she must be enduring made his heart collapse all over again. He wanted to save her. If she was alive, he would rescue her while she still breathed. But if not, he would at least free her soul from the violation it suffered even in death. So...
"Soyeon... please, can you tell me? Where are you? I'll come find you."
"Here... I'm right here..."
"Yes! Tell me. I'm listening. And... I need to apologize. I've been such an idiot all this time. What was my worthless pride even for? I'm so sorry. I need to apologize properly. So... where are you? I'll come to you."
"Here..."
Jun-hee shot up from his seat. He threw on his thick padded coat without bothering to zip it and rushed outside.
"Tell me! I'll head straight to you... Don't hang up."
Outside, the world had already gone dark. As always, the villa complex was deathly quiet. That was when he saw it. Not far down the path, beneath a streetlight, someone was standing there. Jun-hee's eyes were drawn to the figure. His heart plummeted. The silhouette was painfully familiar. No matter the distance, he would have known it anywhere.
"Soyeon? Are you... standing right there?"
At that moment, a smaller silhouette emerged from behind her. It waved at Jun-hee. Ah! It was Sohee. This time he was certain. He could never mistake her.
"Wait for me! I'm coming!"
Jun-hee broke into a run without hesitation.
It was strange. No matter how hard he tried to close the distance, they would vanish suddenly, only to reappear a little farther ahead. All the while, they kept speaking to him through the phone.
"Honey... help me..."
The voice was desperate. It was unmistakably his wife's. Jun-hee kept shouting that he would save her, chasing after the figures without a moment's doubt.
He didn't know how long he ran. Soon his breath was scraping at the back of his throat. Pain began shooting from his thighs down to the soles of his feet. He clenched his teeth against the agony and stubbornly pressed on until he finally reached what looked like an abandoned factory. Had this place always been near his house? Or had he chased them much farther than he'd realized? At least to Jun-hee, the factory was completely unfamiliar.
Construction materials lay scattered everywhere, apparently abandoned mid-project. Some buildings stood as nothing more than skeletal frames. The site itself was surprisingly large. Farther off, he could see a massive warehouse-like structure. Just then, snowflakes began drifting down from the sky.
"Where are you? Soyeon, where are you!"
"Honey..."
Jun-hee shouted as he scanned the area. He had been calling for some time when suddenly the call from Soyeon cut off with a sharp click.
"Soyeon? Soyeon!!"
He called her name frantically, but the disconnected phone offered no reply. The surroundings fell into absolute silence. Except for the occasional creak of something scraping in the wind, everything seemed to be holding its breath in terror. The atmosphere was unbearably eerie. And he could feel something there. Tension flooded him until his mouth went bone-dry. Had construction stopped long ago? Trash lay everywhere, most of it old and weathered.
Jun-hee began walking forward with slow, anxious steps. He couldn't tell whether the trembling in his body came from the cold or from fear. He circled the building that was little more than a steel frame. With no streetlights at all, the area was nearly invisible. His phone's flashlight offered pitifully little help.
As he wandered the trash-strewn, empty lot, it happened. Clang! A loud noise shattered the silence, and he caught a glimpse of a silhouette darting swiftly through the darkness. He gasped, body shuddering. His heart felt ready to drop out of his chest. It looked like a stray cat. Cold sweat had soaked through his back. He let out a shaky breath of relief, licked his parched lips, and looked around again. Then, carefully moving his trembling lips, he called out.
"S-Soyeon? Sohee!"
Jun-hee's voice echoed pitifully across the abandoned factory grounds. No answer came. Only a heavy, leaden silence filled the air. That silence seemed to magnify the creeping dread. With Soyeon's call now cut off, the thought of being completely alone in this ghastly place made fear coil tighter and tighter inside him. Each dry swallow burned his throat. Blood had begun to seep from his cracked lips. Still, he bit down hard and kept moving forward.
"S-Soyeon?"
He called her name from time to time, but his pitiful voice only grew smaller.
Then came a heavy thud, like something collapsing. Startled again, he whipped his head toward the sound. In the pitch blackness, something darted past once more. A cat again? He couldn't be sure. It seemed larger than a cat, but it vanished so quickly he couldn't get a clear look.
Legs shaking, he moved forward once more. At the same time, Jun-hee sent a text to the young priest. The reply came quickly—the priest said he was on his way. Even so, anxiety gnawed at him. Jun-hee kept urging the man to hurry.
The reply felt coldly indifferent. It was frustrating. His legs felt ready to give out at any moment. Jun-hee paused, wondering if he should return to the factory entrance and wait for the priest so they could search together. But he feared losing any trace of Soyeon if he turned back. No. He wanted to find a little more courage this time. He had always run away. His whole life had been one of taking fright and fleeing pathetically. At least tonight, he didn't want to repeat that pattern. He wanted to accomplish something himself. He refused to give up helplessly, without doing anything at all.
He took slow, deep breaths, forcing down the terror that kept rising. Relying once more on the weak light of his phone, he began advancing deeper into the abandoned factory.
At that moment, something crumbled with a loud crash. At the same time, he saw a black silhouette darting swiftly away through the darkness. He swung the flashlight toward it, catching only a fleeting glimpse. A cat again? But no matter how he thought about it, the size was far too large for a cat. Nearby, a large steel drum lay toppled on its side, apparently knocked over by whatever had just passed. The loud noise from earlier must have come from that empty drum.