The rattling of the windows doesn't scare her, not even a little. Outside, the storm is raging mercilessly as if to devour the town. Swaying tree branches cast shadows that look like monsters in a ritual dance and the wind sounds like a giant's cries of agony. It's going to be another long night for her.

It is like a setting of a typical horror movie, enough to send goosebumps through anyone's body. Yoo Jung sits on her bed in a corner of her small apartment, hugging a Pororo plushie close to her chest. There is a knocking sound somewhere and her eyes followed the noise to a dark corner on the other side of the room. Something moved and she sighs. Tossing Pororo away, she pulls the blanket closer to cover her whole body up to her shoulders.

“Not again.” She mutters to herself and her gaze bore into the darkness.

The ongoing storm and thunder doesn't scare her. The soft knocking sounds from a corner of the room don’t scare her. That movement she sees doesn't scare her. She's just plain tired. Yet she has perfectly accepted the fact that she'll probably have to live like that for the rest of her miserable life, cooped up in this small space, living off her parent's almost non-existent insurance sum while working odd jobs to pay for her school fees. If not for that car accident, which is the start of her misfortunes. But nonetheless, she has made some special friends this way.

She takes a glance at the family photo on her night stand, the one last photo she took with her parents, on the day of the accident, and then at the calendar beside it. A date circled with red marker. No matter how unwilling she was, she has to go; a visit to the cemetery. 

Since the day she woke up in the hospital she has hoped that she had died together with her parents. A bitter smile curls her lips and she spots another movement in the corner of her eye. Her head whips back at once as she sighs for the nth time tonight.

The little boy with a bluish glow emerges from the darkness and stares right at her. He was wearing a soiled and tattered Seoul Elementary School uniform.

“Kim Young Min,” she reads off his slanted name tag. “Poor thing.”

The boy's barefooted and his hair a messy tousled. She stares back unblinkingly into those dark shadowed sad eyes and makes no attempt to raise her voice over the loud pouring rain outside.

“What now?”

She’s about to stand up when there comes a real knock from the door of her small apartment and the boy vanishes instantly into thin air. She frowns when the knocks came again. Who will come at this hour? In this weather?

Dragging her feet to the door, she opens it reluctantly. An old lady dressed in a black expensive dress, black lace gloves, a black Madame hat and a black Prada handbag that hung from her right elbow. What cosplay is this? The black widow?

The crease on her forehead only deepens at the sight of this strange woman.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” the old lady says looking up at her, her eyes a deep black and mysterious.

Human? Yoo Jung asks herself but lets the lady enter nonetheless. She doesn’t look harmless though. The lady walks in with a poise and demure like someone from a very rich background. Without saying another word, she begins t