Chapter LV:

The Broken One 

For the whole span of nineteen hours, Dara kept herself locked within the walls of her room.

Bom had tried several times to coax her out of it yet her cousin failed.

Dara didn't step outside.

Too ashamed.

Too afraid.

07:00 PM KST

There were times when an invisible cord would suddenly wrap itself around her neck, tightening its bound until the last sliver of air left her system. There were times when she desperately wished the suffocation would stop, that she'd vainly convince herself there wasn't really a cord to begin with. Then there were the times when she wished for it to never stop tightening and tightening, that it remain there until she'd lose her consciousness for forever.

Tonight was one of those times.

Tonight she was trapped all over again.

Tonight she wanted it to end.

Sandara was sitting on her bed, shoulders grazing the wall. Her fingers wrapped around her legs. Her toes curled into the sheets. She rocked back and forth, trying to breathe calmly but it came out convulsive.

And here was the cord, slithering around to the point of suffocation.

A thunderclap roared outside as the heavy sheets of rain pit pattered against the glass panels of her windows. However, just like the storm outside, her reality now was merely a dull, distant occurrence, a backdrop blurring at the edges of her perception, as the cord tightened it's hold. Her resolve was slipping away, further and further until she was into the depths of her despair.

Of the memory that killed her a thousand times over. 

It began with a sudden awareness of the void. She was surrounded by darkness and a horrifying sense of breathlessness. But soon the shadows started shifting, the vacuous thing, as formless as it was, morphed into the shape of a man’s body. The brief flash of lightning revealed it's face, and Dara whimpered at the sight. There in front of her stood the very core of her nightmares.

“Hello, princess,” he crowed, there was a palpable lilt in his voice. It made her blood freeze in her veins.

“I have been waiting for this day.”

A set of teeth then gleamed from that face as his mouth dilated in a grin so full of malice Dara unconsciously jerked away from him. But it was with a disorienting horror she realized that both of her hands and feet were bounded by chains, and mouth gagged by a cloth, rendering them useless from protecting her self from this devil incarnate.

With a clinking noise echoing through the room, Sandara pressed her chained palms against her eyes, pressed on it harshly in an attempt to eradicate the image of that man. But she knew. He was there. And he wouldn't leave her.

But along this terrifying realization was also the sudden awareness of another man's presence at the farthest corner of the room. Of her beloved mirroring the same state of her body; chained, gagged and helpless. As she tried ignoring the look of pure horror on Kim Jaewon's face, Sandara began crying.

She was in hell.

She was in hell.

“Do you wanna know how I wrote my letters?”

Biting onto her lower lip, Dara kept her eyes squeezed shut beneath her palms. She trembled.

Don't you dare speak to him. Don't you dare.

Suddenly, she felt the warmth of his yeasty breath against her ears, and sensed him leaning in. The next second her hands were pulled away from her face, and her eyes opened in their own accord. Dara couldn't avert her gaze. Despite her internal protests, the woman impotently raised her eyes at the man.  

“Do you wanna know how I wrote my letters?” he repeated. “I wrote it using my own blood, princess. Look.”

On the spur of it all, she almost thought that the glint of steel was a brief flash of lightning. But to her horror Dara realized that it was a knife seconds before he slashed it down onto his arms, slicing his very own flesh. He didn’t so much as wince when the blood instantly poured out from the cut. Instead, he began laughing at it.

He's a monster. He's a damn twisted monster!

Dara was screaming, she felt like she was screaming but she couldn't hear her own voice as it was muffled by the sound of his laughter and the thick liquid dripping against the floorboard of her room.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

There was blood. There was so so much blood. She could smell its metallic scent as it crawled on the floor, pooling underneath her bed, flooding all around her until the surface was covered with its vicious crimson hue.

“This is my blood, princess. Look how warm and red it is for you. Look how full of love it is! There’s no man in this world who can love you this much!”

 Stop. Oh, God, please make it stop!

“Dara, wake up.”

A voice fleeted through the haze of her nightmare, a whisper so soft and impossible it almost felt like the wind itself called on her.  It rippled through her ears in muffled haste, sounding urgent and...scared.

“Dara, please, wake up. Dara...Hurry before he comes back!”

Then it dawned to her, and Dara realized it wasn't the wind whispering; it was Kim Jaewon.

Her eyes burst open.

Jaewon was bent over her, face shadowed and vague, but the anxiety in his voice was as clear as the day.

“We have to leave, come on.”

With stupefied blinks, Dara noticed that her chains were gone from her wrists and her feet were unbound. She sat up, her arms reaching out between them. She wanted to hold Jaewon, to feel the warmth of his presence, and the assurance and protection  it brought. But her fingers slash into thin air.

He was gone.

Dara jumped out of her bed like it was on fire. “No...” she dragged, darting her head all over the room. She checked under her bed. Nothing. She stood up on shaky legs. “No no no. Jae, where are you? Jaewon! No no don't leave me. No please!” Her voice shook as sobs began racking her whole body. He was there. God, he was just there.  “Jaewon!” 

Nothing but the shadows answered her call.

But then—

“Dara,”

It was his voice. Oh, God. It was Jaewon.

“Jae, where are you?!” She turned in a circle, looking over every inch of her room. Everything started to spin. Something akin to desperation took over her body. She stopped. The room continued to move. There was a double of her bed. The walls multiply. Yet there was still no Kim Jaewon. Nothing but the echoes of his disjointed voice. It seemed to move. She followed it.

From the farthest left corner of the room.

“Dara,”

Near the closet.

“Dara...”

Toward the door.

“Dara,”

Through the windows.

“Dara,”

Outside.

She opened her door, and stepped out of the room. Dara whirled around. “Where are you, Jae?”

All of a sudden, Jaewon was in front of her, his shadowed and vague face was clear now. Dara gasped at the sight of bruises below his eyes, his mouth, his cheeks, his jaw. Rivulets of blood trickled from his brows. Oh, God. But beneath these livid marks, Jaewon's hardened expression shattered into an outright display of horror when he caught sight of something behind Dara.

 “He's here.” He gasped.

Dara glanced over her shoulders to find the monster grinning at her, his eyes like coals.

“Run!”

Any trace of logical thinking has abandoned her mind now as it was filled with the thick, vicious tar of fear. Without a second thought she sprinted through the darkness, her breathing ragged and throat burning with tears. Jaewon faded through the shadows, and she ran faster. Terrified and alone, she kept on running from the monster.

She kept on running until her feet shook beneath her.

Run and run and run until all of this was over.

07:46 PM KST

Lee Donghae was cornered by his friends in their living area.

Despite his constant evasion of their pressing intrigue, his supposed brothers forced him into talking. They tried to convince him that this was the best option rather than they leave him be and start another commotion.

Oh, for goodness sake.

He should at least give them some credit though. Despite the sudden ambush, Donghae had the day all to himself. At least they decided to give him long hours to dwell in the privacy of his own bedroom. For the whole day they didn't bother him; no one talked to Donghae unless it was about eating or informing him that they'll be going out. He thought they'd continue staying indifferent like that, thought that for the very first time, his Super Junior co-members had taken a whiff of maturity from the ocean breeze and understood him. He almost thanked the heavens for the miracle. 

Donghae was wrong though.

While the rain had constantly down poured outside, Donghae thought that everyone had already retreated to their own respective rooms. But when he stepped outside his room to sneak a can of beer from their fridge, the man was greeted by all of s who were lounging on the living room, all eyes trained on him as if they had been waiting and expecting him to do as such. Donghae had no time to turn away because Kyuhyun immediately pulled him by the shirt and forced him to sit with them which ultimately led him into where he was now, huddled with these men while they stared expectantly at Donghae; the can of beer long forgotten.

Damn, he hated this. Despite their efforts of making it comfortable, the idol couldn't help the irking sense of annoyance brought by their interrogation. 

“Really, Donghae what’s gotten into you?” Kangin asked with his arms crossed.

Donghae wanted to snap at him and say, “If you saw another guy kissing your girlfriend, would you rather go shake his hand and congratulate him for deducing your pride and stomping on your feelings?” But he held himself, kept his stubborn silence; his face mutinous. What’s the point, really? What useless claim did he have on Dara to use this reason for his sudden outburst? She wasn't his girlfriend. Despite everything, despite the foolish hopes and dedication