In an instant, Haneul lunged forward, recklessness blazing in his eyes. His hands clutched a rusted fire extinguisher mounted on the wall, and without hesitation, he yanked it free, its heavy weight thudding in his grasp.
With a savage cry, he swung the blunt end toward Hyeonjae's back, a brutal, desperate strike meant to break the grip and save Taejun.
The impact was harsh, ringing through the corridor, but Hyeonjae barely faltered. A cruel smile twisted across his pale face as he spun, grabbing Haneul's wrist mid-swing, his grip locking down like a vice.
The extinguisher clattered to the floor, abandoned and useless.
"Foolish," Hyeonjae hissed, his voice cold and dark, eyes narrowing to slits. "You don't know what you're up against."
With a violent twist, Hyeonjae shoved Haneul backward into a row of lockers. The metal groaned and dented under the force, the clang of impact ringing sharp and unforgiving.
Haneul gasped, wind knocked from his lungs, pain blossoming across his ribs like fire. But even in the haze of shock, his fury burned brighter, fiercer.
"Hey, you fucking pervert! Quit crawling after us!" His voice burst out sharp and cruel, cracking through the air like a whip as he threw his head back in laughter.
The sound spilled out of his throat in jagged waves, his mouth stretching unnaturally wide, exposing every tooth as the taunting laughter rattled from deep within his chest, heavy with mockery and venom.
He scrambled to his feet, chest heaving, eyes wild, breath coming in jagged bursts.
Desperation and rage warred within him, pushing him beyond reason.
Grabbing a heavy fire extinguisher hose dangling nearby, he swung it with all his might, aiming for Hyeonjae's head.
This time, Hyeonjae barely raised a hand. The hose whipped past him, striking a locker with a deafening crack.
Sparks flew where the metal was scraped, but Hyeonjae didn't flinch, didn't retreat. Instead, he stepped closer, his cold stare boring into Haneul like an executioner's blade.
"Enough," Hyeonjae said, voice low and deadly. "Leave now. Or I will make you watch everything wither."
Haneul's fury faltered for a fraction of a second, hesitation flickering through his eyes. But the fire in his heart refused to die.
With a guttural scream, he lunged forward again, this time willing to risk everything, willing to become the weapon if it meant saving Taejun, even if it meant losing himself in the process.
They ran without a clear direction, their footsteps hammering the cracked pavement beneath them, breath ragged and uneven in the cold night air.
The city around them blurred into indistinct shapes, flickering streetlights, shuttered windows, and the occasional flicker of movement just beyond sight.
Somewhere deep inside, Haneul could feel the rising tide of panic clawing at his chest, but he forced it down, pushing his legs harder, the desperate rhythm of escape driving him forward.
Up ahead, the jagged outline of the house loomed through the gathering fog like a dark wound in the landscape.
Its warped angles and broken roof seemed to gnarl against the sky, sharp edges silhouetted beneath a bleeding moon obscured by shifting clouds.
The house wasn't just a building; it was a presence, something alive and watching.
Without warning, Hyeonjae's voice cut through the heavy silence, a low laugh that seemed to reverberate inside Haneul's skull.
The sound was cruel, almost joyous in its malice, twisting the air around them. It sent a cold shiver racing down Haneul's spine, yet there was no time to hesitate.
Hyeonjae moved with a preternatural fluidity, slipping past the shattered fence and pressing himself against the side of the house.
Where Haneul saw only peeling paint and broken boards, Hyeonjae saw a ladder, a handhold, a path upward.
With a sudden burst of energy, Hyeonjae began to climb, scaling the side of the house with a grace that defied logic, limbs finding purchase where there should have been none.
His laughter trailed behind him like smoke as he disappeared onto the roof, vanishing into the darkness above.
The sound lingered, a chilling reminder that he was already steps ahead, perched in the shadows, watching.
Haneul skidded to a stop at the threshold, the old wooden door creaking under his grasp as he threw it open with all the force his weary arms could muster.
The hinges protested with a harsh screech that seemed to awaken the house itself, echoing through the empty halls like a scream.
He hesitated just a moment on the threshold, swallowed by the oppressive silence pressing in from all sides, then stepped inside.
Inside, the air was thick, heavy with a damp rot and the faint trace of smoke long since faded.
Every footfall sent echoes bouncing off cracked walls and splintered floorboards, as if the house was listening, waiting to respond.
The shadows gathered in the corners, shifting and pulsing as if breathing, alive with secrets and threats. Haneul's heart thundered in his chest, each beat a reminder that he was alone, except for whatever waited above him.
He moved forward cautiously, senses stretched taut, searching for the faintest sign of Hyeonjae's presence.
The silence was broken only by his ragged breathing and the distant drip of water somewhere deep within the house's bowels.
Somewhere above, Hyeonjae watched.
The night was far from over, and the true chase was only just beginning.
The tension inside Haneul coiled tighter and tighter until it threatened to snap like a brittle wire.
His muscles clenched with a fierce urgency, veins standing out starkly beneath his pale skin, throbbing visibly as if echoing the relentless pounding of his heart.
Every breath tore through his lungs, ragged and raw, fuel for the storm raging within him.
His fists clenched so hard the knuckles whitened, nails digging shallow crescents into his palms as adrenaline surged like wildfire, drowning reason beneath a rising tide of fury and fear.
Without warning, his restraint shattered. A guttural scream tore free from deep inside, and unfiltered, tearing through the suffocating silence that had settled like a shroud over the house.
The sound bounced wildly off the crumbling walls, ricocheting down the narrow corridors and into the shattered rooms where shadows swayed like restless phantoms.
It was a scream not just of anger, but of pain, an unrelenting howl that seemed to shake the very bones of the house itself.
His feet pounded the wooden floor with desperate force, each step a thunderclap in the hollow silence.
The floorboards groaned beneath his weight, protesting but giving way to the chaos unleashed.
His breath hitched and surged in jagged gasps, steam spilling from his lips like a wild beast released.
The veins on his temples throbbed, pulsing visibly, as his fury spiraled upward, pushing him faster, further.
His voice tore through the emptiness again, a ragged litany of curses and accusations hurled toward the shadows.
Words meant for Hyeonjae, for the pain buried deep in his chest, for the tangled memories clawing their way back with ruthless persistence.
Every corner he rounded seemed to close in tighter, the air growing heavier, thicker, as if the house itself responded to his rage, swallowing his screams and turning them into a deafening chorus of despair.
In this storm of sound and motion, Haneul was a man possessed, running not just from something but toward a breaking point, a moment where all the pain, guilt, and anger exploded in a chaotic release.
His scream sliced through the darkness, relentless and unforgiving, carrying the weight of years and the raw edge of a soul pushed beyond endurance.
He turned a corner so sharply his shoulder crashed into the wall, sending flakes of old paint crumbling to the floor, but he didn't stop, he couldn't.
His boots slammed against the warped wood, the echo of his footfalls overlapping with his own gasping cries as he tore through the corridors, shoving past doorframes and fragments of broken furniture without a glance.
The house stretched around him like a maze, its shape warped by years and memory, but Haneul was past the point of caution.
Every hallway was a threat, every room a lie, and every shadow a possible glimpse of that pale, grinning face that had stolen Taejun from his reach.
He barreled through the kitchen, sending chairs flying, a table crashing sideways in his wake. "Taejun!" he roared, voice splitting open with panic, the boy's name crashing through the air like thunder. "Taejun, answer me!"
His eyes darted madly up toward the ceiling where footsteps had vanished, down into dark corners where laughter once echoed.
His rage boiled over. He grabbed a rusted chair and hurled it against the wall. It shattered, splinters flying, dust exploding outward like a breath held for decades. "Where are you, you fucking son of a bitch?!" he bellowed, fists clenched, voice cracking under the strain. "Come out and face me!"
And then he heard it.
That laughter, thin and cold, like a whisper slicing across glass. It came from above, somewhere near the ruined stairwell.
With blood roaring in his ears, Haneul sprinted toward the base of the stairs, boots slamming into steps as he climbed two, three at a time.
The whole house seemed to tilt beneath him, the staircase creaking like an old wound reopening, but he didn't care. He was climbing into the fire, and he welcomed it.
Halfway up, he paused, not out of fear, but because the silence above had shifted, as though someone were waiting just beyond reach. His breath hitched in his throat.
Then, without thinking, he slammed his fist into the wall beside him, over and over, until the plaster cracked, until his knuckles split and bled, until the pain steadied him like a promise.
His chest heaved, sweat dripping from his brow, and still he whispered Taejun's name like a prayer ripped apart by rage.
"Taejun…" he rasped. "I'm coming for you. I'm not letting him have you."
And with that, he took the final steps up into the dark, each one a scream pressed into silence, each one fueled by a fury that knew no end.
At the top of the staircase, the air was thicker, heavier, almost suffocating in its weight, as though every molecule conspired to press against Haneul's chest, to slow him, to turn his desperate charge into a crawl.
The hallway stretched unnaturally long ahead of him, dimly lit by thin shafts of pale moonlight leaking through broken boards and fractured windowpanes, casting jagged streaks of light across the warped floor.
The ceiling sagged as though it might collapse beneath the strain of his fury. But Haneul's legs moved with a blind determination, ignoring the sting of his raw, bloodied knuckles, ignoring the burn in his lungs.
His head snapped from side to side, eyes scanning every door, every shadow that twitched along the edge of his vision.
And then, there, a flicker of movement at the far end. The silhouette of a small frame being pulled through an open door.
Taejun. Haneul's heart seized, his vision sharpening like a blade honed to a point.
"Taejun!" he roared again, the name bursting from his throat like a command to the world itself.
His feet pounded against the uneven planks, each step thunderous, his veins bulging against his neck and arms as if the blood inside him was ready to tear through his skin to reach Taejun first.
He collided with the doorframe at full speed, his shoulder slamming into the splintered wood with a sickening crack that sent pain lancing down his arm, but he hardly registered it.
The door swung open, revealing the gutted remains of what once may have been a child's bedroom, now warped and foreign. And in the center, lit by the cold light filtering through a shattered window, stood Hyeonjae.
Hyeonjae's expression was carved from mockery, his lips curled into that twisted half-smile that had haunted Haneul's dreams for years, his eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of a predator savoring the last moments before the kill.
His hand rested on Taejun's shoulder, fingers curled not with affection, but with possession, as though Taejun was nothing more than an object, a prize that belonged to him.
"You're persistent, I'll give you that," Hyeonjae drawled, voice silky, poisonous. "But persistence isn't the same as power, old friend."
Haneul's chest heaved, his entire frame trembling as fury clawed at his insides. "Let him go."
Hyeonjae tilted his head slightly, as if amused by the absurdity of the demand. "Let him go? After everything? After you offered up his brother and then pretended none of it happened? You have no right to ask for his life or his body."