whereabouts
“Should I… go home?”
“Yeah! The talk’s over. Hehe…”
She didn’t say who the conversation had been with, but Lee Hwan already knew it couldn’t have been ordinary. Whether police or someone else, it had felt far too charged to be casual. This woman had appeared out of nowhere, smiling at him with those bright eyes as if she’d plucked the car from thin air.
“Still, this place is a complete mess. I’m going to have to do some cleaning. The broken windows will need replacing too. We can live here again now, but it’ll be annoying for a while. Not to mention all the curious souls who’ve been wandering in on their own and making things difficult.”
“Curious souls?” Hwan tilted his head, and Miho sighed in exasperation, waving her hand dismissively. “Same as always. Humans are like moths to a flame—once something interesting catches their eye, they can’t help but rush over. Have you run into any of them?”
“Reporters?”
“A few, sure. What were they called? Personal broadcasts? Whatever they were, some of them actually showed up. The way they were fighting right in front of the house was pretty entertaining. The world really has changed since back then. The understanding hasn’t, though. It’s almost funny, isn’t it?”
Hwan frowned. A whole year had passed, yet those people were still out there. Maybe to them it was only a “year,” but for him it felt like forever. The case hadn’t been closed properly, his mother’s and Yoon-ssi’s whereabouts remained a mystery, and most of all, the parts about himself that had survived the massacre were still hidden. The news had called it a cult suicide, but questions lingered everywhere, especially about the face that looked as though something had been torn off it—the most disturbing detail of all.
Even so, with so many inexplicable mysteries still unsolved, the tiny village had remained a hot potato for a year. And because of the people still poking around, he probably wouldn’t be able to go home for a while. Maybe he should just move somewhere else, but the thought of returning to that very house left him strangely unsettled.
“What about these past twelve months? I… I thought you were gone.”
“Hehe! I didn’t want to show myself and cause you extra trouble, so I hid and wandered around the world instead.”
So peaceful. While he had been suffering in a mental ward, she had been out there, sightseeing. It made him a little envious. Right then, she was still gripping the steering wheel, but she suddenly snapped her head toward him with a meaningful smile.
“You… you just thought I was jealous, didn’t you?”
Hwan startled. Could she read his thoughts? That thought made her burst out laughing.
“It’s all over your face. You really can’t lie at all, can you? Hehe! A whole year? That’s nothing. Me? I had to stay sealed for thousands of years. Thousands, I tell you.”
“Thousands of years…”
“Yes, it’s the truth. I was locked away in that disgusting place for eons, but a year isn’t much compared to that. And you came to get me, didn’t you? Hehehe!”
Hwan had nothing to say. He truly couldn’t compare. Of course, that feeling of envy still lingered deep inside him, but he shrugged anyway.
“Oh, here.”
She suddenly handed him a brand-new smartphone.
“What’s with that face? Everyone your age carries one. Don’t you need it? I got it for you, after all.”
She asked so casually. Hwan hesitated, then opened the box. It was a cutting-edge model—expensive, no doubt. But how had she even come by something like this?
“Do you have a lot of money?”
He poked at the phone curiously, and she smiled playfully. That was all the answer he needed. She couldn’t possibly have money. She had been sealed inside the fox rock for so long… and yet this phone, like the car, had probably been obtained in some way she couldn’t openly admit.
Hwan let out a long sigh and turned his gaze back to the window. The city scenery gradually gave way to familiar countryside roads that suddenly felt like they were crawling with nightmares.
_______
The village was even quieter than before, as if nothing had ever happened. Had it really been this peaceful and empty? Or had all the events that day been nothing but a bad dream? He still couldn’t quite believe any of it. He hoped, desperately, that every second of this would turn out to be a nightmare, but the truth was cruel: it was all reality.
When the car finally stopped, Hwan stared out the window and saw his old house. Ah… those memories of that day crashed over him like waves. The shock and pain from back then still squeezed his entire body. His breath grew short, his blood ran hot, and his heart pounded violently. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to breathe until he calmed down. Miho waited in silence, perfectly content to let him do it himself.
Eventually he settled enough to open the car door and step outside. The cold air outside rushed into his lungs, but the smell of blood still brushed past his nose. He felt the village’s lingering presence as strongly as ever. He staggered toward the house, and inside it was exactly as Miho had said—complete chaos.
Footprints covered the floor, evidence that many strangers had wandered in. More than that, it looked like thieves had been there too. Drawers stood wide open. There hadn’t been anything worth stealing, but the sight still stung. When he saw the shattered living-room window, memories flashed in front of his eyes—those men with axes and hoes forcing their way in. The image made his body tremble. He pressed a hand to his throbbing forehead and quietly groaned.
The door to the master bedroom stood open. His parents’ room. He staggered inside. It was the same mess as the living room. Traces of someone’s careless rummaging littered the floor—police, thieves, or maybe reporters or broadcasters looking for a big story. He couldn’t tell. The chaos only stirred up old memories, leaving him boiling with frustration. His hands shook as he shut the open drawers and closed the wardrobe. Then he stared at the ruined bed before finally stepping back out.
This time he headed upstairs. The second floor was even worse—footprints everywhere. Cleaning everything up would take a lot of time, he realized. He climbed the stairs to his old room. The door was open. The inside looked identical to the master bedroom—desk, clothes, drawers all untouched, someone’s footprints on the bed as well. The words “too much” rose in his throat.
He stood in the middle of the room for a long time, then looked out the windows. Beyond them, the church still stood in skeletal form. That same horrifying scene from inside the church flashed through his mind. He closed his eyes tightly, curled into a ball, and tried to breathe. Hyperventilating from the trauma felt like needles stabbing his chest. Breathing was nearly impossible. Ah… even a year later, those memories, that pain, and the fury rising from deep inside him were impossible to control.
“Hoo… hoo…” He forced the ragged air into his lungs. Slowly, painfully, he straightened up. For a moment his vision blurred, as if his blood pressure had dropped. He groaned softly and grabbed the desk just before he fell. Fortunately, he was starting to feel steadier.