#sabevent01

Cold wind greeted her good night, or maybe good morning, when her eyes fluttered open from a deep slumber, skin standing up from the chilly wake up call. Thoughts of nothing made her get up on the edge of the bed to stretch and, like every human would, her hand outstretched towards her eyes to remove excess rheum. But, her hand daubed with red dried liquid prevented her motives. Senses slowly coming back to her and no longer drowsy, she realized it was dry blood. Her hands were not the only victims—tapestries had blots like maps of dark red, her feet felt cold under the floor, pooled with more dried blood, making the big room with forgotten furniture very dreary and dark. Where am I? She thought as she studied her surroundings. The eerie silence has not given her the signal to be in a state of fear just yet. Her silent scoff echoed softly with the singing breeze when she came to realize the random idea that just crossed her mind—of course, no one would exactly know how one ended up in some place without knowledge of it beforehand—unless one was drunk, very drunk, which was not her. Her alcohol tolerance was high enough despite not being a drinker.

Brushing off that funny thought, she just walked over to the desk with a broken lamp near the window. Newspapers and old books covered the fine wood. That wasn’t the only thing that looked old—her eyes flickered over to the date on the nearest newspaper—October 10, 1924. Her hands hovered over the newspaper and picked it up to study the front page. It had a huge picture of a white old house with a big front lawn scattered with debris of something she could not make out of. The headlines read—House of Murder. Reading the content carefully, the writer said that the house was where the murderer died with the residents he killed. Police suspected it to be a suicide attempt. No one knew what the murderer looked like since the man’s face was burned, thus, no one also knew of his identity. Sulli sighed at the old news, thinking it was ridiculous to have such an old newspaper in this day and age—well, unless it was an investigator’s house. However, Sulli could not shake the feeling that the house she was in might be the one in the newspaper.

Cold breeze greeted her again, this time, a little stronger. Her hands outstretched to close the windowsill but a sudden bang of a door teased to suck her soul, making her body frozen at the spot. Also, a faint sound of rain was heard on the other side of the room. Her eyes furrowed because she didn’t know there was another room, or a bathroom. “Sulli,” she heard someone whisper. It wasn’t loud but she heard it quite clearly. Footsteps slowly inching closer to the door, she arrived at the doorway of the bathroom, catching a glimpse of a white arm hanging over a dirty bathtub. Swallowing nothing before entering the room, her eyes widened again. A man, a sleeping man, was lying in the bathtub full with crimson water, or blood even. “Sulli,” the man mumbled again. Her lips quivered when she realized who it was. It was Kris, her co-worker. It must be him because when he was being lazy at work and would dose, she would hear her name come out of his lips. 

Taekwoon woke with a gasp, unable to breathe he looked around to find himself in an unfamiliar room. There was body shrouded in shadow near him but his first instinct was to escape. For all he knew the person was already dead and if they were then hopefully he would have an escape ready. He tried the obvious option first, the door, but it was either locked or stuck. It wouldn't budge no matter how hard he tried so he moved onto the windows. Unfortunately, they were nailed shut like someone didn't want them to escape.

He sighed turning away from the window and running a hand through his hair. Not like they could really go anywhere with how bad it was storming outside. Turning his attention back to the body that as he got closer to appeared to be of a female form. He crouched down to turn the body towards him and his eyes widened slightly when he recognized the girl.

Flickering lights flashed, emitting a soft yellow glare under her eyelids, as if telling her to wake up. Upon opening, however, sparks of electricity made her close them again, darkness taking up her vision. Thoughts of curiosity evaded her mind when she noticed that the black room was not her flat, not to mention the missing mattress she remembered sleeping on last night and the damp fibrous bark floor resting against her palms when she tried to get up. A soft howl escaped between the interstices of her lips when a small book was thrown directly at her nose, sending her to the floor once more. Annoyance permeated every cell, awakening her inner demon, ready to slay whoever dared disfigure the only face she had. Like a phone call, the culprit revealed its face—or it seemed like a face—screaming an inaudible scare. The living daylights evaporated from her body upon seeing the inhuman being. She wasn't even sure if she really did see something since the supernatural form evaded her vision in a millisecond, leaving her heart bombarding against her ribs and mouth hanging open, no sound heard.

As more horror evaded her senses, despite the dry mucous membranes in her mouth, she swallowed the little saliva her mouth produced. Cold sweat occupied every pore of her body when the other surprises of the mysterious household welcomed her—she finally realized it was raining, a supposedly form of lullaby for some, paired with classical music playing from afar—she didn’t know if it was in the room, or outside the brass door before her. Her eyes swept the four walls to find the musical instrument, to no avail, the melodies deafening when it felt someone searching. Every time she looked away, the notes would start to come together, volume peaking along with the concert of storm outside, joined with trees' branches scratching ferociously, wishing for entry.