“Why not?”

“I have to go visit my grandfather today.”

“That’s what you said yesterday.”

“You know when it gets colder its harder for him. What’s so important anyway?”

My close friend, Oh Sehun, opened his mouth to speak. I waited for him, my bag in my hands. Yet, he didn’t say anything and ended up closing his mouth and pouting his lips at me.

“Forget it.” He grabbed his skateboard from the floor and swung his bag over his shoulder before storming out of the front door. Everyone else who was seemingly eating their burgers and French fries moments earlier were now looking at me due to his sudden, loud, and childish outburst. But that’s Oh Sehun, my childish best friend. He had his manly moments but most of the time, he was a big baby. A big baby that today threw a temper tantrum because I wouldn’t go the arcade with him.

Like I said, he’s childish.

It’s winter break and he knows whenever school is out on break, my grandmother asks me to help out my grandfather at the shrine. We’ve been friends for three years now. You’d think the guy would know this by now.

I clasped onto my purse and stood up from the booth, ignoring the looks I was getting that were probably complaints about how mean I was to my “good-looking boyfriend.” If I had ten won for every time someone told me how cruel I was to my handsome boyfriend, I’d be rolling in riches. Of course, I would respond with the obvious statement of, “He’s not my boyfriend” but for some reason that never seemed to get the point across.

Thus, I had gained the title of abusive girlfriend.

A title I learned to not care about.

I walked out of the fast food restaurant and made my way to the bus stop. I was definitely looking forward to climbing the endless steps up to the shrine once I got there. Oh, the joy of my aching legs afterwards. If you couldn’t tell, I’m being sarcastic.

I’ve lived with my grandparents for almost four years since I moved closer to Seoul, the city my high school was located. I had decided to stay instead of moving back in with my parents because I was accepted to a university here. Now when I say I live in Seoul, I don’t mean the bustling streets of the inner city. No. I live around an hour away from my university by tram. And my university isn’t even close to the center of Seoul. So in essence, while I may technically live there, I mostly spend my time hanging out with Sehun after classes have ended for the day or, during breaks off, with my grandparents. Particularly my grandfather. The same person I was now hiking up a hill path in order to reach.

There’s a small shrine on this hill, situated above a park I live nearby. He attends it, my grandfather. Through rain, sleet, snow, hail, or desert like heat, he’s there. Every day. And it’s hard for him, especially in the wintertime. His joints often stiffen up when he’s walking up this very same path around this time of the year. I actually wouldn’t be surprised to find him sitting on the side of the path, waiting for me to show up, or maybe someone intending to pray at the shrine, to help.

Is it a Buddhist Shrine? I think it is. It’s peculiar in its nature. I never questioned what it was really. It wasn’t that interesting to say the least. All I know is that when I get up there, I’ll most likely be sweeping the fallen leaves from the path and the roof gutters. Exciting work to be sure. It sure would be more exciting if Sehun actually helped out every once in awhile.

I mean, he tried once. He said it gave him the creeps. He apparently heard someone laughing at him whenever he was left alone. It was enough to make him resign to never come back again, even if that meant we couldn’t spend time together.

I swear that big baby would do anything to spend time with me except clean the shrine.

I could see the roof of the shrine poking through the trees that covered this rather large hill and breathed a sigh of relief. Grandfather wasn’t on the path and that meant he had made it up okay. I bypassed the front most door that lead to the prayer room and instead entered the sliding door to my left, pushing it open without hesitation.

“Grandpa, I’m here!”

I yelled as I peeked inside. There was no answer and I sniffed from the cold that had caused my nose to go stiff.

“Grandpa?” I questioned again, scooting onto the raised wooden flooring. I slipped my shoes off and placed them beside me. The shrine was housed inside an older building from the Joseon period. That’s what I figure anyway from the dramas I’ve watched. Never attempted to get the actual specifics from my grandfather before. Because like I said, I was never interested.

I shuffled inside of the room that was filled with books and old scrolls. I sincerely wished at that point that this wouldn’t be the task he would give me today: to attempt to sort and organize his large collection of books in this vary room, attempt being the key word.

“Grandpa? Are you there?” It was weird. He knew I was coming. Grandmother would have called if something happened. He would have called if something happened. So then, where was he? The shrine was not big, so there were only a few places he could be. The main prayer room being one of them. I opened the door and my hands fell slowly from the frame, my fingers skimming across the wood as they fell to my sides.

He wasn’t here, no. What stunned me into my frozen state was the prayer room itself. The state it was in. It was as though a storm had come through, destroying everything in its path. The floorboards were still in tact but the wallpaper lining the walls was ripped at and in some places fell over completely. There were torn pieces of paper on the floor, spread out in all directions. And the shrine itself, the shrine was covered in a black substance. Charcoal of some kind.

Grandfather wouldn’t leave it like this. And he wasn’t here. So, what I did next is what any sane person would do at that point in time.

I panicked.

I shrugged my backpack and jacket from my shoulders and ran across the prayer room, opening up the other door that led to my grandfather’s study. The condition of it was the same as the prayer room. As though someone broke in with the intention not to steal, but to break things. Committing the act of breaking in to break.

“Grandpa!” I yelled as I inspected the room. He wasn’t there.

Something happened to him. At the very thought of that, I freaked out. So there I was, a panicky and stumbling mess as I continued to look for him. I ran across the prayer room again, inspecting the large book room in case he somehow ended up buried in his studies in quite the literal sense.

I opened the door leading outside and without a care for wearing my shoes properly, checked every inch of the Shrine’s exterior walls. Still, nothing. The next thought that crossed my mind was that I had to call grandmother.  I ran back inside in order to get to my backpack. As soon as I saw it on the floor where I left it, I started to it.

And that’s when I heard something. Something from above me. Something from behind me. Something from both above and behind me.

Laughter.

I turned slowly, not quite believing my ears.

And then, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

Sitting, as smug as could be on top of a dresser in the book room, was a blonde haired man. And he was laughing. Laughing as he looked down at my panicked state. And from under him, there was something red. Something red that dangled off the top of the dresser. Something that moved. Swinging back and forth slowly. A tail. The guy had a tail.

And at the point, I didn’t care if I was in a shrine or not as I said my next words on reflex.

“Who the hell are you?”

And he grinned, his gums showed above his teeth in an almost inhuman way.

“I’m the devil.”