"The path to paradise begins in hell."

He laughed like a drunkard, stumbling over the fallen Daehyun. He leered over her, his hot breath somehow making her shiver. "I told you," he whispered. 'I knew that you wouldn't be able to do it."

He stared at the patch of grass which Mieun was gazing so intensely at. There was nothing there. He tilted his head to the side, pondering what could cause her to cry so profusely. Thick, fat droplets rolled down her cheeks as she pointed towards somewhere behind him. He glanced back again.

Red blood painted the grass, dotting the greenery with crimson.

He shook his head, blinking in confusion. Her hands trembled. "Do you see it? Can you see him? He's there. His eyes...." she shook, convulsively shivering, "They're dead...yet why can I feel him staring at me?"

He slapped her hard on her cheek, leaving red streaks. "Shut up," he growled. "Shut up. You can't fool me. There's nothing there. Nothing." But even he could not deny that just one moment before, he, too, had seen scarlet streaks of blood.

She screamed, covering her ears, "Don't! Don't touch me! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to kill you! I'm not a killer. I'm not a monster. It wasn't me. I'm innocent! I'm...I'm innocent...." She sobbed loudly, until Daehyun smothered her cries with his hands.

He knelt down to her eye level, his gaze piercing hers. "There's nothing there," he intoned in an dead voice. He roughly wiped her tears away with his thumb. He hated tears. Tears always reminded him of...

Of that.

He shook his head, his pupils dilating. An emotion overtook him, an emotion he had not felt since he was seven.  That had been eons ago, yet now, his senses were being overcome by that very same emotion.

Fear.

It chilled his blood, crept up his spine, whispered into his ear. The stench of fear was strong in the air, his and hers, choking him until he couldn't breathe.

Splotches of red covered his visions, and a sharp pain blossomed from his chest. He gasped, clutching his heart. His throat constricted, and his hands scrabbled for the dagger. He panted, breathing hard.

He looked in front of himself, only to find her staring wide-eyed frightfully back at him. He saw her. He saw the look in her eyes. With a shaky, wildly trembling hand, he pointed the knife at her. "Don't touch me," he warned in a tremulous voice. "I'll kill you first."

She cried, hesitating about whether to flee or stay. In that moment's hesitation, he had her by the neck. He grabbed her nightgown, it in his hand. The moment he locked eyes with her, realization flooded his eyes. He crushed his lips to hers in a brutal, crazed kiss. She tried to scream, but he cut off her cries. And her breath. It was wild and desperate. He didn't know what he was doing. In the heat of the moment, he no longer understood why he was frantic, so panicked.

He just needed her.

He just needed her now.

The minute his lips left hers, the minute they no longer shared one breath, he fell back, one hand still clutching his bruised and bleeding heart.

(music)

Jung Daehyun had always been a weak little boy. Every day, he would throw up blackened blood, his small, frail body wracked by seizures. His parents didn't know what to do, nor did they care. They couldn't care less for a weakling like Jung Daehyun.

His mother and father were constantly away from home, drinking, gambling, drug-dealing, . They would lock up Daehyun in the house for days at a time with little food or water. And poor Jung Daehyun, for his body was to weak to withstand the hunger and pain. He just lay on the cold, rotting, wooden floor in their slum of a house, shivering from the cold.

Oh, how cold it would be at night. There was no warmth, not even the smallest flame to keep him warm.

It wasn't until his parents came home, discovering him lying in a pool of his own vomited, black blood that they decided that they should bring him to a doctor. But by then, it was too late. His body was already corrupted, rotten from the inside out.

The doctor told them that Jung Daehyun, their child, had contracted a very rare, deadly disease. In fact, he did not think that there was any available cure.

Except one.

It was still a scientific study currently in progress, but it was still a possibility. He told them that researchers had recently just discovered a new medicinal property only found in human blood, namely, the human heart. Of course, there was no way for Daehyun to receive this treatment. Even to get one's hands on the heart of a deceased person was hard enough. It just couldn't be done.

Jung Daehyun's parents had had enough.

There was one night that was exceptionally colder than the rest. Jung Daehyun was weakly crawling into his make-shift 'bed' on the floor when his parents entered the room with grim expressions on their faces. His father lifted Jung Daehyun on his shoulders, something he had not done since Jung Daehyun was a mere baby.

Jung Daehyun was confused. Why were his parents bringing him out into the cold, cold night? His pale, frail body shook like a leaf in the wind. The night sky was void of moonlight, and the crows were flocking around overhead, still not sleeping. His parents walked a for a long while, bundled up in their coats while Jung Daehyun had nothing but his pajamas to wear. They walked solemnly, as if they were in a procession, until they reached the edge of the woods.

His father set him down before motioning to Jung Daehyun's mother who came up to stand in front of Jung Daehyun. Jung Daehyun started to cry. Why were his parents acting so strange now? He wanted to go back to sleep on the cold, rotting, wooden floor. He wanted to go home.

But his parents apparently did not think the same.

His mother and father reached into their long, fur coats, pulling out something that glinted maliciously in the darkness. Jung Daehyun cried louder. What were they doing?

But poor Jung Daehyun didn't even have time to ask. His parents raised their knifes and stabbed him over and over again, black blood spurting out of his wounds. No one could hear the poor boy's agonized shrieks. No one could see the poor boy being brutally torn apart by his own flesh and blood.

The same blackened blood that now spilled from his weakly pulsing heart.

Jung Daehyun died that day.

Jung Daehyun was no more.

He couldn't really remember the girl's face who dragged him deeper into the woods. He remembered lying in a cot by the crackling chimney fire, the girl gently tending to his wounds. But she could only heal his physical injuries, his external wounds. His heart still grew weaker by  the day, but somehow, she managed to stem the extensive injuries, slowing down the deterioration.

But she could not heal the wounds made on his heart.

Or his mind.

Two years later, on his ninth birthday, the girl awoke to find his cot by the fireside empty and cold. He had disappeared with a word, note, or trace. She frantically searched for him in the woods, but he was like a ghost: invisible.

It was also then, on his ninth birthday, that he returned to the place of his cursed birth. It was on his ninth birthday that he came back from the dead, smearing the walls with the blood of man and woman who called themselves his 'mother' and 'father'.

From there on, it became an addiction. An addiction to live, to survive. It was what he needed to do to survive. To feel the last, weak pulses of the human heart, to smell the stench of human blood. He couldn't control himself any longer.

He needed to kill.

That is, until he met Eunmi. She was the first one who treated him like a human since the girl in the woods. In a way, she reminded him of the girl in the woods. There was something that drew him to her. It became poisonous, his love for her.

He didn't want to kill.

He wanted to stop. The painful cries that echoed in his ear reminded him so much of his own. The tears reminded him of his own. The weakly beating heart reminded him so much of his own.

Oh yes, it was slowly killing him, corrupting him.

But rather, a slow, prolonged death than a quick deterioration.

Bu, for the first time in his life, she made him want to kill.  

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was just supposed to die quietly. But since he met her, he actually started wishing for more time. He just wanted more time with her.

And then, he quickly became too greedy.

And then, his greed to live and his desire to love slowly made him a monster.

He fell back, writhing and twitching in the grass. Blood, blackened blood spattered on the blades of grass. He clutched his heart, choking. Mieun screamed over and over again. She hadn't....hadn't killed him. Frightfully, she stared at the metal dagger and then at her hands, now coated with his sticky, warm blood.

She wasn't a monster. She hadn't killed him. She was innocent. She wasn't a killer...a killer like him. No. She was the lamb, the innocent one.

It was him.

He was the lion.

He was the killer.

He was the devil incarnate.

Not her.

Not her..

Daehyun watched her, eyes glazed over with pain. He coughed up blood, staining his lips a dark blackish-scarlet with the thick, warm substance. He swallowed his tears. It was so painful. They hadn't told him that the end would be so painful.

Was this what people felt in their last moment of life?

He heard her screams dimly echo in his ears. She was shrieking something. What was she saying? His brow furrowed in pained confusion. His mouth gaped open, his jaw slack, trying to say something, gasping. He tried to form the words.

Why are you crying?

Please, do not cry.

But nothing could come out of his mouth except a soft, gurgling noise. His lips, moistened with blood, tried to move, but no sound came out. His hand weakly reached out to her. He laughed weakly, blood bubbling from his lips. He saw her. He saw her eyeing the dagger, which now lay abandoned on the forest floor.

Do it, he whispered. Please. I beg you.

He convulsed weakly on the ground, even the jerky movements of his arms growing weaker. A tear slipped down one cheek, washing a clear trail down his blood-covered face. He tried again, moving his lips again, "Ple...ase..."

She shook her head, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, landing on his face. He dimly felt her, trying to drag him against the forest floor. He realized that she was trying to bring him home. He smiled weakly through all the tears and blood. He wasn't going to reach home. He felt the dirt and branches dig into his back, dragging him backwards. She desperately tried to drag her through the leaves, but she just didn't have the strength in her trembling arms.

He gagged, blood spilling out of the corner of his mouth, leaving a small trickle. Trembling, he lifted his shaking hands to touch her face with his fingertips. "Can....I..." he mouthed, "I'm....not going...to para...dise, am I?"

Mieun cried harder, cradling his head gently in her lap, not replying. He tried to form the words again, but she shushed him. He slowly shook his head. "I'm...sorry.." he weakly whispered. "I just...wanted to make...a...a...memory that both of us....would not....forget...."

His head lolled to the side, his eyes taking on a distant, faraway look. With difficulty, he struggled to turn his head towards her. "Just once...." he murmured, his words heavily slurred, "....I want...to hear you say...that you...you love me...I don't...care..if you don't...but just once..I want to hear....those last words...."

Mieun's shoulder shook as she sobbed. "I...I..." she swallowed her tears down with difficulty. "I...love you. I love you."

He weakly smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting up. Tears spilled out of his eyes. "I...love..you too..." he whispered, catching one of her tears on his fingertip.

If only, he thought, If only I could keep my last promise to you. My only regret now is that I'll never be able to keep my promise to you. That'll we'll die together so that one will not have to live a second without the other. But I swear, Eunmi....I swear, I'll make it happen. No matter what, I will keep my last promise to you.

He looked up towards the sky, dyed by the fiery, bleeding rays of the setting sun. "It's...It's not...cold anymore. I'm not...cold anymore. I can finally...see...paradise....Eun....Mi.....Eun...." His last breath rattled in his throat, before his eyes glazed over for the last time, as the sun bled into the sky. Quietly, softly, the flickering flame died out. 

Jung Daehyun had suffered from the cold all his life.

 Finally, finally, he had found warmth in the cold stillness of death.

Jung Daehyun wasn't cold anymore, for he had found Warmth.

She huddled there, even as the ghosts came out in the darkness, cradling Jung Daehyun's still body in her lap. Once again, she could not stop shivering, for she was cold, very cold.

Her soul was empty, her lips, once burning with the passion of the Inferno, cold.

Hello there, my lovelies. Yes, I mega updated. And here we are at the end of this journey. For the end, I wanted a majority of it to be in Daehyun's POV. Even though he was the antagonist, in many ways I felt like he was the main character of the story. I included the music for this chapter because I wrote the chapter listening to this over and over again.  I would like to thank my 33 lovely subscribers for sticking with me throughout this story. But don't unsubscribe yet, because there's still more to come. As I stated before, the possibility of a continuation is 99%. A huge author's note and appreciation post on the whole story coming up soon. My first completed fic. Thanks guise. /cries. -kitty.