Hayi stood in the middle of the room, eyes wide open as they began to adjust to the darkness. Jack was seated in his usual seat, eyes closed and head leaning against the side of his armchair. His chest heaved as he breathed, long lashes glowed red every time the surveillance camera outside the window turned to his face. The artificial moon light barely illuminated the room, it was always directed to Hayi's room.

 

Hayi stood there, watching the figure sleep. This was the first time he had fallen asleep in the dollhouse. Carefully, she walked over and sat down in a chair at the teatable where the other dolls sat.

 

She had no idea what she was doing, it was like something had guided her there.

 

Then, she leaned forwards, buried her face in the crook of her elbow and closed her eyes.

 

“Baby doll.”

 

She opened them.

 

She was still in the nursery, but Jack was gone. She looked around, her eyes darting around the room in a circle until they rested on a face sitting directly opposite her. It was beautiful, one of the most exquisite faces she had ever seen in her life, lips curled into a radiant smile below a pair of sad eyes. She wanted to touch that face, wanted so much to feel the curve where her cheek ended at the chin.

 

“Baby doll, what is your name?,” the lady spoke, hands folded under the table.

 

“My name is Lee Hayi.”

 

“Could you pour me some tea?”

 

Wordlessly, Hayi picked up a kettle and started to pour water into the china teapot.

 

“My name is Eunhye. What is your name again?” The lady asked as she watched Hayi at work.

 

“Lee Hayi.”

 

“Are you working?”

 

“Student at Seoul Co-Ed School.”

 

“Is this a dream?,” Eunhye's voice was slow and soft, as though listening for something. Her brows were slightly furrowed as though remembering something.

 

“I don't know.”

 

“Tell me about one of the dolls you've dreamt about, let's call her Eunhye as well.”

 

“Eunhye asked for tea, but she didn't reach for it. She was all stitched up. Jack put me in an oven for spilling the tea.”

“One of the dolls?”

 

“One of the dolls.”

 

“Have you played with Jack?”

 

“Jack's the one who plays with us.”

 

“How does he play with you?”

 

“He turns us into dolls and makes us behave like dolls.”

 

“Can you describe him?”

 

“He is tall, all in black. Black cape, black hat, black suit, black mask that moved with his face, and tattoos on every inch of his skin. And he has a dog.”

 

“Thank you for the tea, Hayi,” Eunhye smiled and she reached out her hands. Hayi stared at her shoulder when her lacy sleeve shifted, revealing an ugly, purple bruise on her arm. Then, Eunhye put her hands on the table.

 

There were stitches on her flesh.

 

Thin threads, holding her wrist and arms together and when Eunhye smiled, her skin seemed to tighten to the back of her skull. Hayi sat there frozen as Eunhye seemed to tug her hands up, like they were made of cotton, and reached for the teacup.

 

Clink.

 

The tea overflowed on the table.

 

Baby doll.

 

Baby doll.

 

Baby doll.

 

“Baby doll.”

 

Hayi opened her eyes. Jack loomed over her, eyes gleaming down as she blinked sleep out of her eyes. Somehow, he didn't scare her as much anymore.

 

“What are you doing, why aren't you in bed?”

 

“I'm in my bed. There are eyes everywhere, and I have to watch them watch me to sleep.”

 

“Whose eyes?”

 

“Jack's.”

 

For the first time, Jack was lost for words. He had no idea what she was going on about Then, Hayi as though in a dream, felt someone gently lift her up and hold her hand. She smiled gently at Jack, curtsied and slowly, as though someone was holding her upright, walked towards her room.

 

She felt someone that night. Someone close. Someone warm.

 

Someone sad.

 

“Goodnight, Hayi.” The skin on her forehead tingled, as though someone had just kissed it.

 

“Good night, Eunhye.”

 

That night, Jack did not punish her. He did not even go into her room, he went back to his chair and sat down, fingers trembling in the fake moonlight.

 

*

 

The paper bags Yunho was carrying clattered to the floor as his arms around them slackened, and the tins of beans and soup rolled out underneath the sofa. His eyes widened as he took in the condition of his cabin in shock, it looked as if a hurricane had passed through the tiny living room. The leather covers of his sofa was ripped open, and the cotton wool and springs peeped out from between the tears. His books, papers and newspapers were all over the carpet like the floor of a hamster's cage, and his photographs of cases had crashed onto the chair and floor. He pulled out his revolver underneath his plaid shirt and cocked the weapon, pointing it directly in front of him with both hands. Cautiously, he stepped off the steel ladder and into the lounge. He kept my boots on the carpet, cautious that he would not scrunch on anything in case whoever had broken into his trailer would not be alerted. He could sense it, he knew someone was near, and he was waiting for him to find him. His heart palpitated but his expression was calm. But he stayed with his back facing the doorway, rifle at shoulder length. His finger pressed against the trigger, but the intruder did not appear.

 

Very gradually, Yunho raised his left foot and let it sink into the carpet two feet in front of his and stood facing the kitchen. He was met with a view of his kitchen counter below the window, nothing else.

 

Then...

 

A raccoon looked up from below the working counter.

 

“Oh for crap's sake.”

 

Then, someone's hand reached out and hooked his neck back.

 

*

 

Hayi sat in front of an empty canvas, eyes vacant and lips chapped. Her fingers curled around a pink paintbrush dripping with green oil paint. A mess of magazines lay on the tiny table next to her chair, glossy pages of flowers and beautiful landscapes reflecting of calm sunlight.

 

She stared ahead, right into a pair of intense eyes.

 

Those eyes.

 

She was could not get used to them watching her all the time, despite that they burnt into her skin every minute of the day.

 

“Jack, will you pour me tea?”

 

The figure's eyes widened.

 

Jack gazed into those tired eyes, his heart skipping a beat.

 

What was she doing? What was going on?

 

Wordlessly, he picked up the teapot with one hand and let the brown liquid cascade down into her glass.

 

She picked it up and took a sip.

 

Then another.

 

Then, she gulped everything down. She turned to Jack. Their gazes burnt into each other. Burnt so hard and so long that Jack didn't notice that Hayi had crushed the teacup in her small fist. Shards dripping in tea and blood in her hands. Then, she smeared the ugly red and green across the canvas.

 

“We were out of red.”

 

Jack watched as she squelched her palm in zigzags across the pale surface, eyes vacant and lips slightly parted. Another hand painted green teardrops on the side where her blood did not taint. Then, she dipped her brush into blue. She filled everything in.

 

A red magnolia.

 

Jack's eyes widened.

 

The flower of North Korea.

 

How. How. How?

 

Hayi dropped her hands and turned to Jack.

 

“I cried too much, did I?”

 

Eun Hye.

 

*

 

Yunho tapped his fingers on the top of the table with the longer fingernail on his index finger. Seungri quivered opposite him, bloodshot eyes avoiding the Senior Investigating Officer's unwavering gaze. His finger marks burned on Yunho's neck. It took ages to pry off the withdrawn paranoid schizophrenic and slap cuffs onto his wrists. Yunho pushed a cup of coffee closer to Seungri and narrowed his eyes.

 

“Thirsty?”

 

“Parched.”

 

“Do you know Jack is?”

 

Seungri twitched and yelped at the name. Junmyeon stood outside the interrogation room, watching as he occassionally glanced at the surveillance footages on the screens in front of him. Nichkhun and Jaejoong were in two other cells. Yunho had made him drag them in that morning for further investigation. Junmyeon's brow furrowed as he remembered their earlier conversation.

 

It was evening, and Yunho knew how to make an entrance. The doors flew open and a squirming murderer was tugged by a much taller policeman by one arm into the station. Seungri twisted and screamed with Yunho's towel halfway down his throat. Yunho hauled him violently by the arm into a cell, shoved him in and locked it with a click. Then, he turned to Junmyeon, sweaty and pissed off.

 

“Bring in Jaejoong and Nichkhun.”

 

“What?”

 

“Are you deaf? Bring in Jaejoong and Nichkhun!”

 

“But I don't have authorisation...”

 

Yunho gave a long, very mad, very exasperated groan and slapped the keys to the cell into Junmyeon's open palm, “I pawned this case off to you in the first place because I had to catch terrorists. If you can't bring in two suspects for me then what the hell good are you?”

 

Junmyeon stood there, frozen with the keys slapped in his hand.

 

“I-I...”

 

“KEEP AN EYE ON TWITCHY,” Yunho waved him off angrily, “I'll bring in the damn suspects. And I want leads on this whole bull by tonight. Freaking hell, I have to do everything on my own these days.”

 

Which is why Yunho, instead of Junmyeon was sitting at the interrogation table, eyeing Seungri with a non-too-friendly stare. Not that Junmyeon could blame him, Seungri appeared at his place.

 

“But why?” Junsu wondered aloud, “why Yunho's place?”

 

“Yunho was the one who confiscated his drugs. He might've been dumb enough to think Yunho'd have them in his home,” Junmyeon sighed and sat down next to Junsu.

 

“Gawddamn junkies,” Junsu shook his head.

 

The interrogation was short and clear. Seungri admitted to everything. Yunho grabbed his files off the table and left the room in a temper, annoyed at how inefficient his juniors were.

 

“Get him a lawyer and a quarantine cell. I don't want to hear him escaping again. If as much as his toenail leaves the cell, I will personally kick everyone's and make sure my foot stays there. Junsu,” he snapped his fingers towards the bored-looking officer and gestured towards his office, then he pointed at Seungri and then back at Junmyeon, “go on then.”

 

Jaejoong was cuffed to a chair in the waiting room, still with a small smirk at the corner of his lips. Nichkhun looked positively pissed.

 

“Okay, if this is about the gun,” Nichkhun called as Yunho strode past him but a slammed door replied him.

 

“I hate Koreans.” Nichkhun growled and slumped back into his seat. Junsu rolled his eyes at the slammed door and pulled it open again to follow his superior in. There were heated voices as Junmyeon led Seungri out of the interrogation room, past Jaejoong and Nichkhun. He was so preoccupied with the voices coming from Yunho's office that he didn't realise that Seungri had slipped off his cuffs until the deceiving click filled his ears. He started and turned to cry out a warning, but Seungri had already slipped his gun out of his holster and was pointing it at everyone.

 

“NOBODY MOVE!”

 

There was a total, complete silence. Everyone was stunned dumb by the raving lunatic waving Junmyeon's gun around. Yunho yanked open his office door

 

“Oh, for crack's sake, Junmyeon!”

 

“What the hell, I...”

 

“I said,” Seungri trained the pistol at Junmyeon's forehead and he backed away slowly, both hands raised, “nobody move.”

 

Jaejoong and Nichkhun were watching him, both horrified.

 

“You're all liars,” Seungri's speech was distorted, his bloodshot eyes wild, “you're all liars.”

 

“Seungri,” Yunho said very slowly. The pistol was still pointed between Junmyeon's eyes, “put the pistol down and let's talk...”

 

“No!” Seungri actually screamed and pointed a free finger point blank at Yunho, the other hand shaking with the weight of the gun, “I'm done talking to you, officer. You're full of lies. Full of lies. You said you would make me better. You said you would make me fine again.”

 

“Seungri, we're just going to put you back into rehab. You're going to be all right...”

 

“I'm never going back to rehab,” Seungri whispered, “I'm never going back to that ward. I'm never drawing for you again.”

 

A shadow crossed Jaejoong's eyes.

 

Then, Seungri bit the end of the pistol and blew his own brains out.

 

 

*

 

Onew was back.

 

This familiar hallway.

 

This familiar scent.

 

This familiar wallpaper.

 

That familiar figure.

 

That familiar man clad in black, with a growling Doberman Pinscher at his heel.

 

Onew had dreamt about them so much that he even knew their names now.

 

Jack.

 

The dog was Max.

 

He looked down at feet. The feet weren't his. They were his sister's.

 

Hayi's again. Again, being a soul trapped inside another. Strings pulling at Hayi's hands and limbs, making them both move.

 

“Good morning, Jack.”

 

“Good morning, baby doll.”

 

“Would you join me for tea?” Wordlessly, Hayi pulled both their hands upwards and hooked them on Jack's arm. Like some kind of sick bridal ceremony, they followed the carpet into the nursery.

 

Again with this nursery.

 

Again with this place.

 

Onew hated this room the most compared to the others.

 

It reeked of murder.

 

They both sat down across each other.

 

Jack pushed a magazine towards Hayi, and it slid across the dark red tablecloth and touched her elbow. She didn't twitch like how she used to. Instead, Hayi positioned herself into her seat, back and neck rod-straight and face tilted up. Then, her fingers reached for the page.

 

“Just because someone smiles, it doesn't mean she's happy.” The pale fingers smoothed over Mona Lisa's face.

 

“Like Mona Lisa, look at her eyes. Look at her eyes, Jack.”

 

Jack did not reply. He kept the head of his dog.

 

Hayi picked up the teapot and poured out three more cups. She pushed one towards the first doll, then the second, then the...

 

The third doll smiled.

 

The teacup smashed to the floor, the crash gone in Hayi's scream. Onew tried to blink but he couldn't.

 

The doll just smiled.

 

It just smiled.

 

Then, he remembered the features.

 

The shape of the porcelain face; the colour of the hair, a deep hazelnut with black roots; the pillowy lips, the...

 

The ivory eyes clattered out of the sockets. One landed into Hayi's cup. Another by her foot.

 

Something black stared out.

 

It was as though Onew had control of his body now. He reached out, fingers clawed and lunged to the porcelain face. He crushed their fist into the perfect face. Jack was halfway towards them now...

 

A human face stared out from behind the porcelain, sunken to the bone and gray as dirt. Air did not agree with the skin, because the second the air touched it, it seemed to decompose before their very eyes. Jack grabbed them by the arm and tossed them to the floor.

 

Onew and Hayi fell to the floor, left arm twisted in the impact. Hayi's eyes were closed, so Onew could not see.

 

Open. He willed.

 

Please open.

 

But no.

 

Hayi refused to open her eyes.

 

She kept them closed, even when Jack struck her across the face and tugged her by the roots of the hair down the hallway, her heels clattering on the marble. She kept them shut even when Jack hauled her up like a sack and threw her into a small space, so hard that she hit her head against something that felt like knobs. She knew what they were, but Jinki did not.

 

She opened her eyes for a split second and Jinki could see.

 

He saw a black door slam close in their faces and heard a twist of a knob. A light glowed behind him but Hayi wouldn't turn. There was a grill of some sort crowding them. Hayi curled up into a tiny ball and closed her eye.

 

It smelled like pastry and charred meat.

 

They were in an oven.

 

Onew opened his eyes and tears ran down his cheeks. He woke up to the comfort of warm hospital sheets and Chaelin's hand holding his. He sat up and wrapped his arms around Chaelin. He wept and was unconsolable for hours.

 

*

 

 

 

“Okay.” That was how Daehyun greeted Jieun and Yesung the second he burst into Yesung's office, “okay here's my theory.”

 

“Good morning to you too.”

 

“So I read up on a few stuff online on premonitions and most of their experiences are similar to Jinki's. They've had close-to-death instances, and the things they predict happen without fail unless prevented. I contacted Dr. Sandara and talked to Jinki about the fire when he was small.”

 

“And?” Yesung sat up straight and Jieun put down her coffee.

 

“It's a sixth sense. An extra instinct to sense danger around people close to him. They're vivid and traumatising, and extremely real to the person. It feels like they're experiencing it. But there's some stuff he's been seeing in his dreams that are strange. Because Jinki says he's always walking in his sister's shoes. He's always seeing everything through her eyes. That's not supposed to happen.”

 

Daehyun spread the case files Jieun had photocopied off Junmyeon on the table and pulled out Eunhye's file.

 

“Remember how he twitched and changed voices in the session? He out completely on that part, and that's not supposed to happen when you have premonitions or bad dreams. That happens in possession or black magic.”

 

“What are you implying?”

 

“So far we've heard one name, and we're pretty sure she's dead,” Daehyun pulled out Eunhye's file, “I have a feeling it's her possessing him. She might be using him to lead us to Hayi.”

 

“Daehyun,” Jieun rubbed her temples, “just because we encountered this before doesn't mean that...”

 

“Possession just shouldn't be the worst case scenario you can think up of. He might have heard of Eunhye from the cops and his personality is slowly splitting to...”

 

“You remember that voice, Jieun.” Daehyun's voice was cold, “you remember it, I know you do.”

 

My name is Lee Hayi.

 

Goodnight, Eunhye.

 

“She's communicating with us by letting us hear everything Hayi says. She's in there with her, talking to Hayi.”

 

“She's trying to talk to us. But she can't speak in her own words.”

 

“Why not?” Yesung asked, looking at them both, confused.

 

“Because Onew is in Hayi's body in those premonitions, Onew has no freedom to talk or move.”

 

“So she's asking Hayi things, and the answers Hayi gives are parroted out by Onew.”

 

“Hayi's alive.”

 

“It's a serial abduction,” Yesung stood up with a clatter, “there's a similarity between all these girls.” He pulled up the files of all the missing girls and started to jot all the locations on a map of South Korea projected on his glass writing-board.

 

“What?”

 

“They're all beautiful. They all look like...”

 

“...dolls.” Jieun breathed as she watched him jot down Hongchen, Seoul...

 

“And if he's a serial kidnapper, he might have a pattern. He might have a...” Yesung took a step back from his map.

 

“... I can't see anything.”

 

Daehyun's eyes widened and picked up a blue temporary marker. He nudged Yesung gently aside and started to connect all the dots. It took three tries to come up with...

 

An arrow.

 

An arrow and pointed to the heart of Seoul.

 

---

Happy 1st of April!