Smile 3
Fear stems from the unexperienced. It arises in the human brain from what it cannot comprehend. And then, cortisol floods out in a rush. People think cortisol is a bad hormone, but there are no bad hormones. Cortisol generates extreme stress to reinforce the brain's defense mechanisms. It rummages through the subconscious, dredging up survival-optimized memories and reshaping the body to match. In short, it's the "self-rescue hormone" that kicks off the survival mechanism. Fear was the most crucial brain function animals had for staying alive. Humans, as animals ourselves, survived by shunning fear.
Right now... the cortisol surging through my brain is clenching my fist tight. It's commanding me to smash it straight into Nam Seohee's gut. "No." I overrode that primal cortisol directive with reason. I relaxed my arm. I recalled that 8th-floor delinquent bitch's antics from earlier. My brain started hunting for alternative survival strategies. It reframed this absurd situation into something rational. Like a hallucination or auditory illusion. A defense mechanism against terror. The age-old human method for conquering fear. Ground it in facts, substitute the horror. That's how my cortisol-fueled brain defined it. This is a hidden camera prank! I instinctively knew it was something far graver, but my brain—my defenses—had ruled it so. My mind eased instantly. The human brain is that simple.
"If they were trying to screw me over with a hidden cam, that's a huge mistake." Just don't freak out. Stay stone-faced, no smiles, keep a straight poker face. No responses either. Plus, to monetize any video, they'd need my consent. Even if they filmed, without my okay, they can't profit. They wanna catch me dumbstruck by that creepy grin? Wanna film me popping a boner at the sight of your near-naked body? Fuck that, you think I'll play your game?
"Should I scream and flail like a bitch? In your dreams." I mirrored her Joker Smile right back at her. Grinning ear-to-ear like a clown, lips yanked up toward my ears in that grotesque mimicry.
"Thought I'd be scared, huh?" As the Joker Smile flashed and faded, she straightened up, face hardening.
"Tch. Knew it." Only then did Nam Seohee step aside, clearing my path. She hopped back on the elevator without a word. Didn't even ask if she could use the footage. Of course not—the prank failed! Back to her blank expression, she rode up calmly. The silence of the empty B2 floor. My ears rang. Nam Seohee was gone, but her smile lingered in my vision.
"What... the fuck? That's it?"
Belated terror crashed over me. Relief sighed out alongside utter exhaustion. My defenses had gaslit me into flawless acting.
"Hoo... fuck. What the hell was that. For real."
Death lurked in those dull eyes... She didn't feel alive. Those abyss-trapped, shadow-dark pupils would chill you in one second flat. A corpse's grin? No, a demon's smirk at me. My nape stiffened. ...Terror I'd never known. Goosebumps prickled my arms. My grip crushed the trash bag handle.
"What the fuck were those numbers above her head... kill counts or some shit?"
A light headache passed. A world of sexy monsters might sound fun, but the unpredictability of their actions? That's the real killer. Uncertainty is a proposition I absolutely won't tolerate.
Sweep. Sweep. Sweep.
The swishing of a broom on the floor. The trash room always has that old janitor sorting boxes and plastics. He bustled about cleaning. No numbers floated above his head.
"What's the criterion for seeing numbers?"
Right on cue, he looked up at my footsteps. Our eyes met naturally.
...!!
"Again?"
The old man flashed me a grotesque smile. Joker Smile, lips curling up on both sides. Just like Nam Seohee's eerie laugh.
"......"
Malice and death oozed from that grin. Terror swelled, but I held it down. No life sparked in those vacant eyes. I kept my face neutral. Mirroring it like before wasn't hard. Sensing fear and danger, I instinctively Joker Smiled back.
Sneer.
The old man stared at my Joker Smile. Then he looked away and resumed sweeping.
"Aha!!!"
I grasped the implication behind that grotesque smile.
"...Friend-foe identification."
Not just a greeting. In warzones where distinguishing sides is tough, it's like yelling codewords—"Panties!" "Stockings!"—to confirm allies. "Are you my kind?" A check. Cold sweat trickled down my spine.
"What the hell are these things?"
I knew now: that damned smile could terrify people. I dumped the trash and took the stairs to the 1st floor instead of the elevator. Calming my fear, heading out to the bright world. Sunlight offers reassurance no fluorescent bulb can match. It generates serotonin for mental stability and eases depression. Even under that red sky.
My fear-stiffened body loosened in the warm sun. Excess cortisol began to ebb. Serotonin. Thanks. Seasonal depression hits hard in winter partly due to reduced sunlight dropping serotonin levels.
"Hoo..."
Heading to the convenience store, I pondered if it was just my dumb illusion. Nah. Not an illusion. I'm not that stupid. Top neuroscience master's from Korea University.
"Need more observation."
Then I had to stop. Among the street walkers, numbers hovered above women's heads—no numbers on the men. I sat on a bench, scanning passersby. First, check if I'm being watched. Easy method.
"Yawwwn—"
I yawned hugely. Glanced around. Anyone mimicking? That's your watcher. Luckily, no one.
Then, face in hands, dry-washing in that pose to observe safely. Neuroscience trick. Mammals detect eyes-on-them fast. Brains wired to sense predators. Why truck rearview stickers with eyes draw instinctive glances. Pretending to wash, hiding my eyes, I scanned carefully.
And spotted the same behavior. Passersby lock eyes—Joker Smile exchange.
"Gonna lose my mind. Fuck."
Across the street in the park, families with kids strolling. A dad trailed his bike-riding child. Classic dad teaching bike scene. Except no expression on dad's face. Kid wobbles, looks back. Vacant eyes. No cheerful laughs, no chatter. The silence crushed like a midnight OR hallway—air heavy enough to fear your own breath.
Screech. Screech. Screech.
Oily pedals pierced the quiet. Silence-born horror. Birds chirping crystal clear. I froze mid-dry-wash, rooted.
A bench mom handed ice cream to her kid. Sensing eyes, she turned my way. Lips stretched ear-to-ear in a chilling grin. Reflex kicked in—I mirrored it. She went blank again.
Especially, above that mom:
Cold sweat poured. Closer look: they mimed a silent play. Pretending talk, joy... but no sound, no faces. Like a creepy puppet show.
Passing the fountain. Water and birds breathed life into the eerie play.
"Fuck. Driving me insane."
My brain rejected the world's sudden grotesquery. Needed rational, scientific proof.
"What if I yell here?" Too risky. More observation.
Scanned crowds. Blank faces, empty eyes. Brains all busted?
Spot: bench mom breastfeeding.
What do these numbers mean? 8th-floor bitch was
. Nam Seohee
. High numbers dangerous? Fear from a nursing mom? Weird.
"What... topless breastfeeding?"
No normal mom bares both. Unnatural. But the newborn suckling—pure life's mystery, beautiful. A smile tugged my lips.
Then I accepted this unscientific, irrational world fully. Blood froze solid.
......
The babe in mom's arms, suckling away, stared at me. Stopped nursing. And... the newborn flashed a Joker Smile at me.
"Fuck."
Bright daylight's comfort twisted into fresh horror, sweeping me. Everyone strutting the street felt demonic. Wearing human shells.
Joker Smile. Bees dance differently to confirm hive-mates. Primitive, but friend-foe ID. Baby Joker Smiled back at me, resumed suckling.
"Head home?" Normal thought. For lives assured, hopeful. But not me. Terminal life, max 10 days left. Timer ticking above my head now too.
"Fuck it anyway."
Die now or in 10 days—what's the diff? Fuck. Mindshift felt like chugging "courage potion". Legs regained spring, asshole clenched tight.
"Grab Febreze and Efkill on the way."
Timid courage, but my first step. I strode boldly to the store.
Demons possessing humans or bullshit, whatever. Eyes meet, swap Joker Smiles—good enough, right?
Store arrived. Wondered about my friendly clerk. If she's fine, sneak a question.
Ding-a-ling.
Flesh-baring outfit at the register. Nam Seohee. Body on full display, naked as fuck... Already shopping.
Tampon box on counter—insertable type.
Clerk Joker Smiled at her.
......
Above the clerk. She's turned grotesque too. My cute hamster girl... whom I call Hamster.
But then, oddity: Nam Seohee swipes card. Hamster swipes it on the terminal screen.
"What the...?"
Blank-eyed Hamster "mimics" payment. Hands card back.
"Doesn't know how to process cards..."
Whatever they are, mimicking human actions. Cerebellum-stored muscle memory maybe.
"Mimic... or mirror neuron sync?"
By the drink cooler, I watched. She grabs item, hikes dress right there.
My eyes bulged. "What the fu—"
Pale skin gleamed under fluorescents. Ivory-near round ass exposed shamelessly. No panties. Dress yanked to waist, butt crack crystal clear.
Thump thump.
Heart pounded. She turned to me, spread legs wide. Inner thighs parted, five moles like a constellation.
Reason for bragging now clear.
Store had me, her, Hamster—plus at least five more: middle-aged guy at ice cream, high school girl at lunchboxes. No reactions to her.
Nam Seohee spreads wider. Pink labia peeked between smooth thighs. Slick, quivering slit.
"On her period...?"
Menstrual blood trickled down ivory thighs. She unpacked the tampon. Peeled plastic—white cylinder emerged.
Fingers V'd her entrance, shoved it in. Shlick... slurp.
Tampon-sucking sound echoed in quiet store. Spread wide, other hand pushed deep. Insertion—her folds twitched, sucking it in. Oyster-shut crack dangled white string.
Intimate act even couples hide... brazen in store, before people. No matter the urgency. First time in my life... witnessing tampon insertion.
Shocked, eyes glued to her crotch.