***

written in Key POV (point of view)

I am looking at the door of his room feeling helpless. He's been locked inside for three hours already and I am going crazy. I heard him breaking something when he entered. For about first 5-10 minutes, he was walking around the room, I could hear a few kicks (probably to a bed) and then nothing. He hasn't made a sound ever since and I don't know what to do. 

When he first came back from the station he was really sick. I've never seen him sicker. Trembling, throwing up, sweating like crazy, burning up... He couldn't even walk to the bathroom himself. I cried, holding him, trying to keep him grounded. He started to get better on the fifth day. Just when I was considering taking him to a hospital since he couldn't keep anything down.

I slept for the first time since he re that day and when I woke up, he was in the kitchen, making dinner. I couldn't believe he recovered so fast. Yes, the five days were hell, he has never had it that bad, but still... When he turned around and smiled, I was so happy. I really wished for him to just stop hurting. I wanted it so badly that it blinded me. I totally ignored the manic look he had in his eyes, his tense body and jumpy behaviour. Everything seemed to scare him but he never said anything and I was just glad he was up and walking so I've never asked. I wish I had. Everything could be different now. I should have known, he couldn't recover so fast.

He was home only a week when they called. Fortunately, it was me who answered the phone. They wanted him to come again, they needed more clues, more information. I refused. There was no way, just no way I would let him do something so dangerous so soon. Later that night while we were having our dinner, I tried to observe him. He seemed fine. He was a little pale, there were dark circles under his eyes, but he was chatting with me and smiling and I couldn't figure out what was wrong. I just felt something was missing but I couldn't tell what. 

We were about to clean the table when it happened. I came behind him to help him bring the leftovers back to the kitchen when he freaked out. One minute I was trying to take the rice of the table and next, I was lying on the floor with Woohyun on top of me, pressing a knife against my throat. I looked into his dark eyes and realized it was the light that disappeared. There was something scary about him. As if he wanted to kill me. As if he would enjoy it. 

"Woohyun-ah" I breathed out, my voice trembling. I didn't know what to do. We heal faster but neither of us has ever been seriously wounded. We've never wanted to kill ourselves. We joke, that we are immortal because technically we might be since we don't really age but I bleed and I know, he does too. I don't know, what would happen if he slashed my throat. Fortunately, he snapped out of it before it happened.

He threw the knife away, looking at me with horror. 

"I... I'm sorry..." And then he run. 

"Woohyun-ah!"

He locked himself in his room and left me waiting. What's going on? What happened to him? How can I help him? How am I gonna ever let him go to the police station again? I just... Is he loosing himself? We always fear, that one day we just won't make the journey from the past back to the present. That we will just become lost. But could it really happen?

What am I supposed to do if he turns out to be the monster?

***

The memory is the only thing, nobody can take away from you. 

... so remember ...

... when you are about to forget...

***

to be continued

a/n: Thank you for reading. Please subscribe to the story and leave a comment :) I apologize for a long wait for this fic. I will try to work harder. 

(btw I have a twitter: https://twitter.com/dionfortune so if you want to know, when I will update or get some hints at what is gonna happen in the fics, please follow me ^_^ I don't give away too much, don't worry. - but I do spazz over random stuff so consider yourself warned)