The Flies

His concerts were always sold out. The crowd cheered loudly, filling the concert hall with energy that could possibly raise the roof. Thanks to that he could give the best of him. The booming of the basses and laser lights cutting through the warmed up air, the adrenaline and the feeling of fulfillment made him forget about the fear, bravely running across the stage screaming his lungs out. Even after the gig he could have still heard his devoted fans chanting his name. That was the life of the famous rapper Kwon Jiyong, known also as G-Dragon.

He sat on a chair in the changing room and lit up a cigarette, straightened his legs and exhaled a cloud of smoke. The concert was over, he could finally relieve the last bit of stress. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. After fifteen years of training and performing he still would get a stage-fright. But all that money and fame were worth it; he was known all around the world and also was respected for his talent. He loosened the buttons of his green jacket and heard his manager walk into the room.

“ Jiyong-ah, go and change, we still have to go to the studio to check the record mixing,” he said quickly. Time is money, as he would always say.

“ Yeah. I’ll be there in the minute,” answered Jiyong and looked up at the ceiling. The manager left the room answering the ringing cell phone. The man stayed alone, listening to the slowly falling silence. He thought about the banner the fans from the first row made for him.”Burn it up, Dragon!” it said. He imagined a dragon-rapper with a red cap sitting on the herd of CDs and smirked.

He stood up and encircled the room with the intention of finding his casual clothes. He changed into them and started to remove his make-up. There were many different types of brushes, pads and foundations lying on the make-up table with a huge mirror. The changing room was small, there were dozens of hatstands bending under the pressure of the clothes and three make-up tables.

Jiyong bent down in front of the mirror massaging his face with a cotton pad and humming the song that was stuck in his head when he heard a buzzing. He went silent and looked around for the source of the sound. He would hear it clearly but couldn’t find the actual insect, so he let it go and returned to the treatment. Suddenly the buzzing resounded above his head, but it was much louder. Jiyong turned rapidly and saw a huge swarm of flies suddenly coming out of nowhere. The feeling of disgust sent a rush through his body; flies were what he hated the most. The swarm was flying around the room and becoming larger with every minute. Finally, it filled the whole room and Jiyong had noticed a monstrous fly, twice the size of his head or even bigger; he could precisely notice the hair on its body, the structure of its eyes and mouthparts. It was floating in front of him while buzzing loudly, lower than the other flies. The man took a step back but felt the make-up table behind him. He tried to pass over it but it was teasingly stopping him. The other flies also pursued him, trying to fly into his mouth and nose. Finally he managed to pass under them and get to the door; he pulled the handle but the door wasn’t opening. What, why is it blocked? he gasped. He slowly turned to face the fly and uttered at the sight of his own face reflecting in its eyes. It was so close. All stiffened he couldn’t move, only waiting for what would happen next. He had watched enough horror movies to know that people being in a similar situation didn't survive for long. Suddenly the fly spoke:

“ Interesting. When it comes to the payment everyone’s scared.”

“What do you want?” Jiyong asked quietly.

“What do you think?” the fly floated up and the air in the room turned stuffy and the light bulb decreased its light slightly.

“Have you forgotten already? No, no. You're just lying to yourself. Remember. What did you see in the boiler room?” Jiyong closed his eyes and hoped it was all just a dream. Of course he remembered. In the depths of his brain shone one of his childhood memories, when he had run restlessly along the streets of Seoul with the groups of friends. He had been about 7 or 8 years old and all he had been interested in were pokemon pogs and everyday adventures.

 The neighborhood which he lived in wasn’t really big, but for him it seemed to be the whole world. On the square between the blocks of flats there was a small playground with a sand-box, ladders and rocking-cars. Jiyong always liked the red one. He and one of his friends would always sit in it and pretend to be at the racetrack by rocking really fast. When they’d grow tired they would sit on the ladders and talk about their dreams or daily lives.

One day, when the four boys were sitting on the ladders, one of his friends, who was a year older than him, decided to tell them a spooky story about a haunted basement. He had heard that story from his older brother, who was already in secondary school.

Not so far away from their place, between two old blocks, there was an iron door. Behind the door there were stairs leading down and a long corridor which led to said room. The room would look normal, but if you stayed there for a while, a voice could be heard. People had said that the voice sounded like nothing else from this world; it was not a simple voice of a woman or a man. They said it was because it was a demon's voice; it could sound different for every person. When a person heard it, the fear would take over their body and make them unable to run away. Then, the demon would get out from nowhere and eat the victim.

“ So where did you pick that story up?” a boy sitting next to Jiyong asked.

“ I heard it from my brother and he heard it from his friend.”

“But… if the victim is eaten then how do they know it? If they had been there they would’ve gotten eaten as well,” said another boy.

“Yeah, this is complete bull,” the boys groaned and snorted.

“ I’m tellin’ ya the truth!” the older boy protested and looked over on Jiyong with a begging look in his eyes. “If you don’t believe me, then go there yourself!”

The boys waited in suspense of what Jiyong would say about a challenge like this. He twisted his lips and lifted his chin, looking cocky.

“Ok then,” he said and hit the road to said place.

 They stopped in the lane between two blocks, in front of the iron, a little bit rusted door. It was already late; the lamps were starting to turn on one by one. One of the boys gripped the handle and opened the door, struggling under its weight. In front of their faces the dark corridor appeared and made them feel a shiver running down their spine. But Jiyong was stubborn. He slowly began to go down the stairs and finally he disappeared, leaving his friends behind.

 The darkness surrounded him like a spider’s web; the smell of must hung in the air and the silent dripping of water could be heard from somewhere. Jiyong walked for a while when he finally managed to find the end of the corridor. He was in a room with large pipes everywhere and a few turncocks. The room was moist and dirty, with a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. It wasn’t a basement but a boiler room. The boy looked around trying to notice something suspicious or maybe hear something at least. But only some quiet drops were dripping onto the concrete floor. There was a single fly sitting on the wall and a moth was dancing around the light bulb, trying to touch it and then flying away again, making a tss sound by it.

Suddenly the light went out and the room also became strange; like a very thick water had flooded it. Jiyong could feel his every move while he was struggling, searching the exit or anything that could’ve saved him at this moment. And then he heard it. The voice of the demon, sounding like nothing else he had heard before. The voice was low, but it gave a sensation similar to hearing a woman's voice and also something like screams and yelling. Jiyong could smell the scent of rotten eggs and could’ve sworn that the temperature in the room had raised.

“I am the king of the flies and you came to the gate between my world and the mortals,” said the voice, followed by the raspy sound of breathing in and out. “I am going to take your soul.”

Jiyong wanted to scream but his throat was squished, he tried to move but he was floating in the air without knowing the directions. He opened his mouth, but no sound would come out.

Instead of that, the demon said “ I’ve seen your future. I’ll spare you… for now. But I’ll find you one day and take what's mine.”

In that moment Jiyong jerked with enough strength to turn his body around and move it forward. He started to flap his legs like he was running and tried to escape from the air in the room. He squeezed his eyes shut and ran blindly. The sound of buzzing resonated behind his back. The king of the flies must sent his horde. Finally he found himself running through the corridor desperately reaching for the doors leading out of the building. He had noticed the light where the end of the corridor supposed to be and ran like a bolt up the stairs, chased by the swarm.

There was nobody outside; his friends had left him there and had gone home. It was already evening and Jiyong knew his mother would be mad at him for coming home late. Dirtbags! he thought about his friends. With chug, once again he turned his head to see the door to the boiler room. It closed sharply like somebody or something would force it. He was definitely too scared to stay there any longer. But he was thinking about it while running home. What exactly had happened?

The famous rapper stood there, with his back pinned to the door and the eyes of the huge fly in front of his face. The buzzing was almost bursting his ears.

“Don’t you remember?” asked the fly.

For some reason Jiyong felt like those were his last moments. His life was ending and he couldn’t do anything about it, only counting the last minutes.

“That’s right. I’ve found you. You know what I want.” The fly sounded satisfied. It was a pleasure for it to watch this little human huddle and slowly losing his hope.

“I am the King of the Flies and I’ll take your soul.” The fly started to grow and its buzzing became a loud noise that pierced Jiyong’s ears.

He started to lose his consciousness but before his eyes closed completely he saw something like a face of the devil, opening its mouth and moving closer and closer. The flies were flying frantically.

No, he thought. And that was the end.

 The manager was tapping his shoe impatiently while smoking his second cigarette.

“What takes him so long, God dammit?!” the man groaned and stubbed out the cigarette, angrily walked inside the broadcast station’s building and pushed the elevator’s button. After a few seconds he was standing in front of the changing room. He opened the door and took a deep breath, preparing himself for scolding his patron but the room was empty. Only one fly circulated lazily near the ceiling lamp. The manager narrowed his brows and looked around but G-Dragon wasn’t there.

Thank you for a nice words and a warm welcome of my debut. I have few chapters already written, but i'm going to write some new stories soon. I hope you'll like it! 

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