Baby, You Should Run
Baby, You Should RunThere lived an urban legend, a story passed on from the previous generation to the next. They are always referred to as the willow-men, there is a rumor, they say those who stray too late at night on the wrong side of town will either commit suicide or go insane. No one really lives to tell the truth, so their town runs smoothly even without law enforcers - the willow-men know everything. They know from the number of steps you take to school to the color of your blood running through your veins. They see you when you least expects it, however, no one knows how the look like, they just know the willow-men are real. And whoever dares enough to rage them will never see the light of the day ever again.
Yonghwa does not really understand why his wife is kicking such a huge fuss. He did what she asked - to provide for the kids. However she did not asked for missing livestocks which she is about to sell to the paperboy for a couple of nickels because his mother is sick and needs food. "What am I supposed to sell to the poor boy now?" She yells, following Yonghwa into the kitchen.
"She hadn't eaten in two weeks, Yonghwa. I wanted to cook for her but you stopped-"
"We don't even have enough for ourselves!" He interrupts her, searching for an excuse, any excuse he could use on her, an excuse that is not overly used too. "I was thinking about us."
"You lying piece of . I can't take any of this anymore. First you cheat on me, then-"
"What?" Yonghwa takes a few steps forward, yanking Joohyun towards him. He forces her to face him, looking into her eyes. "What did you mean by that?"
"Let me go."
Yonghwa laughs. "Scared? Go ahead, scream again, I'll show you what I can do to you." He warns, pushing her away.
"Daddy, the willow-men are coming." Sooyoung peeks from behind the bedroom door, staring into her father's eyes, something she has not been able to do since she was born. She had difficulties growing up, only started talking at the age of six, and she was unable to look people in the eyes without crying for the next half an hour. "They are coming for you." She hisses, pointing at him.
Enraged, he charges forward. He turns her upside down, holding her by her foot, letting her head bang into the kitchen counter-top. Joohyun yells for him to put her down as Minhyuk walks into the kitchen, dazed and confused from waking up due to the noise. He flings her to the other side of the room, head first to the marbled table. He reaches for the knife set, not caring as the rest falls, clanking as they hit the floor. He reaches for Joohyun, slamming her on the refrigerator, jamming the knife into . She goes from being angry to very confused as Yonghwa does not stop. The crimson fluid runs freely over her blouse, staining the drawings behind her where their kids brought home from art class. She drops down to her knees, trying to scramble away. Joohyun claws onto the tiles, trying to scream at their children, to tell them to run to the other houses, to warn them about a monster let loose in their house. It must have further infuriated him because the next thing she feels is a hit at the back of her head - an iron.
He kicks her dying body aside, grabbing Sooyoung so he could decorate his daughter the same way he did with his wife. Sooyoung places her hand on Yonghwa's cheek, stopping him. "They are coming for you." She says before laughing hysterically, ringing through Yonghwa's mind as he rams the iron down on her face.
Yonghwa lost count of how many times he attacked both of them, but he has a good deal of blood all over his body. Then he realises Minhyuk is missing, he was hoping he could hurt him too, but alas, he ran away. He drops the iron onto the floor with a loud clang. He wishes he would feel remorse in the next few minutes so he could at least feel humane, but there is none. Nothing but feeling like he has done something worth of commending. He drags Sooyoung's body atop of his wife so he could carry them without a problem. With a grunt, he manages to get out to the yard. That is when Yonghwa feels them arriving.
He could hear the hushed whispering going back and forth from the woods. From the corner of his eyes, he could almost see their faces, but he sees are gnarled trees watching him with intent stares. He knows they are there, they are waiting for the right time to attack him. By the time dusk falls, both his wife and daughter are buried six feet under him. He walks with his back facing his house, watching the trees, watching them, hearing them whispering.
"What are talking about? They deserve every bit of it!" He screams, only to be replied by louder whisperings but he could not decipher any of the words, like as if they are speaking in another language. Then he sees them, the willow-men from the urban legends, they stand behind the trees with their gnarl faces with hollow eyes and gaunt figures. Was he expecting a response? He does not know anything but the fact he would not go down without a fight. He spits, throwing the shovel away.
He pushes the couches in front of the doorways, occasionally using the dressers lest there are not enough for every. He nails wooden boards haphazardly to cover up the windows; they are still staring at him, Yonghwa could see them. He loads up his shotgun after taking a swig from his whiskey bottle. He forces another mouthful, smashing the bottle into pieces against the wall next to him.
There is only one door he left open - the front door. It opens up to the woods where the willow-men are still watching him. Yonghwa places a chair outside, staring back at the woods with his shotgun on his lap. It goes on for days, by the fourth day, Yonghwa is awfully worn out. He begs himself to stay awake, he does not want to lose a fight worth winning. He could live and tell the tale of the time he murdered his own wife and daughter and managed to win against the willow-men. He was one of the townspeople who wanted a town chief, however the majority agreed to leave the dealings to the willow-men, shoving the responsibility to them as Yonghwa drowned his sorrows to the bartenders each night.
For a foolish second, he props his head with the shotgun so it would not fall, but he snaps back immediately, not wanting to kill himself. If he had known what is coming for him, he should have had done so.
He pushes himself to stay awake for another hour, an hour became two, two became three. He watches the day turns to dusk, dusk turns to a new start of another day. The willow-men stay throughout the days, staring from behind the trees, not resting for more than a second. They want him to exhaust himself out, he knows it. He starts talking to himself, mentioning things that does not make any sense. Maybe this is what the legend meant by the people who challenges the willow-men either end up dead or insane.
He becomes thinking, even if he are to shut his eyes for a few seconds, they would not reach him quickly; he has time to react and shoot.
However, when you go for days without sleep, it is hard to estimate time, especially how long you have been sleeping. It could range from a second to several hours.
Yonghwa opens his eyes, finding himself still sitting in the chair with his shotgun propped up beside him. He jumps to his feet when he sees the willow-men charging towards him, they are no longer hiding behind the trees. He holds the gun up, directing it towards them, trying as hard as he could to stay calm despite his failure to keep his hands steady on the gun. He stumbles into the chair, choosing to dart back inside the safety of his house.
He starts to calm when he sees nothing outside, he takes a deep breathe, choosing to go back to his original post when he feels his eyes stinging. They are staring at him from beyond the doorway, he could hear footsteps lurking from above him. They stare at him with their gnarl face and branch-like hands. He has to do something. He pulls up the gun, firing off a round. It hits the tip of the door, missing them completely. They screech, as if to laugh at him. Yonghwa pops open his gun, grasping his pockets for a fresh shell. He successfully reloads it and holds up the gun again.
The willow-men look at him from where they are. He takes a careful aim, hitting one of them straight in their hollow eye, but it steps forward instead of scrambling out like how he had pictured it in his mind. Then it dawns on him, he is not escaping from their clutches. As he fumbles for a third round, they lurch forward, covering him wholesomely.
A/N: feel free to leave me any prompts or aus here
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