i.

A boy stood emotionlessly in front of a doll house taller than him. His large eyes glanced over each of the rooms, carefully examining the intricate decors and detailed micro furniture. Pale moonlight streamed in through the large window and gilded everything in the dark room in a veil of silver. Eleven pairs of glass eyes shone eerily on the floor. Neatly in a line, the dolls sat in a row on either side of the boy, their limbs limp and eyes empty. They all looked different, each with unique physical features and all of uncanny human likeliness. This pleased the boy, of how real they looked, because they made him feel less lonely. It was as if he was surrounded by humans, yet not quite. Trapped in a house where his parents were rarely home, the boy had no one but his dolls. They were his friends and companions, the ones he’d play with and speak to. Without the dolls, the boy would truly be alone.

Picking up one of the dolls with wide eyes and pouty lips, his favourite, the boy contemplated for a moment before placing it inside the most intricate master bedroom. Then with some deliberation, he allocated each of the dolls to a specific room based on the characteristics he had assigned his muted and unmoving friends. Soon, all the rooms in the dollhouse were occupied as the dolls lied face down on the floor. A hollow smile stretched out on the boy’s face as his gaze shifted unblinkingly from one doll to the next. Reaching out a hand slowly, he caressed each of the doll on the back its head with his small boney hand. The soft texture of the dolls’ hair tickled the pad of his fingers.  

“Good night, friends,” he whispered in the dark and the hollow smile on his face stretched a little wider, “sleep well.”

Then there was only silence.

---

“Are you sure he will show up today?”

“He must. He is after all the largest shareholder and the owner of the Enterprise.”

“Well, I hope so. The last time we saw him was what, three years ago, at his father’s funeral?”

“That’s right… he sure does a good job hiding himself…”

“No kidding. I sure as hell would like some scoop on him.”

“Don’t we all? I thought the Park Enterprise would have collapsed after his father passed away, but I guess the kid has some ability.”

Kyungsoo glances casually at the two reporters gossiping quietly a few seats away. He is well aware of whom they were talking about; the person everyone in the room is waiting for. Medias from all sources, ranging from prominent business headlines to small online gossip columns, are packed into the hotel conference room and hundreds of cameras are pointing directly at the empty panel of five seats on stage. All the journalists in the room are double checking their sound equipment and camera, anticipating for the upcoming press conference.

Although the Park Enterprise is a pillar in the Korean economic world, as a company it has never attracted more attention than now. However, the main focus for many of the attending Medias is not the new product being released but the person that has decided to attend the press conference: Park Chanyeol, the current head of Park Enterprise. He is a mysterious man in the eye of public, the shadow figure behind one of the largest company in Korea. Who is he? What is he like? How come the public did not know of his existence until his father passed away three years ago, when he took over the company? All the journalists in the room hope these questions will be the least that will be answered today.

Looking down at the small memo pad in his hand, Kyungsoo taps quietly at the paper with the of his pen. He too like the many that have flocked to the conference, hopes to get any scoop on the enigmatic man. However, he pales far in comparison to the professional journalists in both equipment and experience. Twenty-two and fresh out of university with a bachelor degree in journalism, Kyungsoo is just a newbie looking for his big break. In a crowd of high tech recording equipment and confident faces, the young man looks particularly awkward with his notepad, basic recording pen and an old DSLR. Nevertheless, his disadvantages did not deter Kyungsoo one bit. Even if it means putting his life on the line, he is determined to get an exclusive interview with Park Chanyeol.

Suddenly, the conference room is filled with hushed whispers and the shutter clicks. Kyungsoo squints against the bright flashes all around him and focuses on the five people making their way up to the stage. In the centre, an exceptionally handsome man of remarkable height looked down at the crowd with cold eyes. His jet black hair is combed neatly and gelled back, revealing his smooth forehead and accentuating his sharp features. A special lonesome aura is flaring all around him and as he sits center staged, the frigidness of his presence seems to separate him from the rest of people on stage and it adds a touch of mysterious allure to him.

Captivated by unique aura given off by the silent CEO, the young journalist observes him intensely and more carefully. A wool suit jacket of ashen grey fitted snugly over a black turtle neck with matching grey suit pants, Park Chanyeol looks every part of an elite. Unblinkingly, Kyungsoo’s eyes trace over the man’s large frame and they eventually fall on the man’s large, boney hands. A single silver ring decorates his ring finger and his index finger brushes absentmindedly across the outline of his full bottom lip. The young journalist’s gaze glides across the man’s chiselled jawline and over his pointed nose, until it stops at the pair of down casted eyes half hidden behind thick, long lashes. They say the eyes are the windows to one’s soul, and Kyungsoo is itching to find out what dwells in the depth of Park Chanyeol’s being.

Then abruptly, as if he has heard the young journalist’s wish, the handsome man looks up and peers straight at Kyungsoo. Black orbs as dark and depthless as a miasmic swamp locks with eyes of shock and the journalist’s heart skips a beat from the strong impact of their eye contact. For a moment, he was looking into the eyes of a predator, one that hunts ruthlessly and kills without mercy. Unable to tear his eyes away, Kyungsoo finds himself trapped in an involuntary stare down and his eyes begin to sting. He can hear his breathing hasten and anxiety mounting in his heart. Finally, the corner of Park Chanyeol’s mouth twitches faintly upward and he smirks mockingly. Then as if nothing has happened, he casts his gaze and becomes indifferent to everything around him again.

Released from the intense eye contact, Kyungsoo lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. His stomach wrenches in agitation; there was something unreadable in the man’s eyes that makes him feel sick. His sixth sense is warning him to stay as far away from this man as possible and his instinct is screaming that Park Chanyeol is dangerous; getting involved with him will be like a moth playing with fire. But his pride is fighting back fiercely and the tiny flame of greed for fame and recognition burns persistently in his chest. If he could get an exclusive interview with the man, even just a short one, it could very well be his chance to sky rocket into the journalism profession. Something tells him that he has a chance, that the eye contact just now wasn’t meaningless. Even if it’s just a thin slice of chance, he will take it.

The announcement for last three questions brings Kyungsoo back to the conference and snapping his head up, his eyes focuses on the man sitting centre stage again. Park Chanyeol is still looking uninterested at the hundreds of camera flashing almost constantly and he coolly ignores all the calls directed at him. Eyes hazy and completely emotionless, the mysterious CEO reminds Kyungsoo of the alligator he saw a few days ago on the discovery channel: cold-hearted and unimpressed, he remains motionless in a crowd of Media, chatting about like annoying flocks of birds. The young journalist grimaces at his thought; the resemblance is too uncanny.

Taking one more glance at the bored man on stage, Kyungsoo makes up his mind and decides to leave the press conference early. It is obvious he won’t have a chance fighting against his seniors and it doesn’t seem like Park Chanyeol will cooperate with answering questions publically either. So, he will have to capture the man in a more private setting instead. Swiftly getting out of his seat and shuffling across the aisle, the newbie journalist bows curtly in apology and disappears through the entrance. Unaware to him, a pair of eyes discreetly followed his every move.

Ducking staff members left and right, Kyungsoo stealthily sneaks into the resting area fenced off from the public. He hides himself in a corner by the room reserved for Park Chanyeol and patiently, he awaits for his chance.

When Kyungsoo checks his watch for the third time, a familiar lanky figure appears at the end of the hallway. The young journalist’s eyes light up and feeling extremely nervous, he shrinks further into the shadows. A thin layer of perspiration forms on his tensed up back as his gaze follows the man’s every stride. Head held high and hands shoved casually into his pants pocket, an air of ‘stay the away’ seem to seep out of Park Chanyeol’s every pore. There is still not a trace of emotion on his handsome face and his grime eyes reflect no light. Without sparing a glance at the discreet corner Kyungsoo is hiding in, the taciturn man enters his prepared room and waves the bodyguards away. The hallway returns to its former quietness after the stocky bodyguards leave and Kyungsoo peeks out of the shadow. Checking left and right a couple of times, extremely cautious of getting caught, the young journalist tiptoes towards the door Park Chanyeol disappeared into. However, before he could muster the courage to knock, the door swings open. Like a deer caught in the headlight, Kyungsoo gawks in trepidation at the man glaring at him and his face pales. Then with a single tug on his wrist, he stumbles into the room and the door shuts behind him with a simple click.

“Hello.”

Park Chanyeol speaks first after a pregnant silence, his hand still clenching around the young man’s wrist. He smirks as Kyungsoo’s face pales even more before turning a deep shade of red out of embarrassment. The newbie journalist gulps nervously and avoids direct eye contact; even though the other man is smiling, Kyungsoo cannot find any speck of mirth in the pair of dark eyes staring him down. Choosing to look at the tip of their shoes instead, he replies quietly.

“Hello, Mr. Park.”

His voice is shaking along with his trembling body. Always have aspired to be a journalist, over the years Kyungsoo has mastered how to suppress his fear of speaking to strangers and crafted his timid demeanour into an appearance of calm. However, the unnerving gaze of the man standing in front of him is able to break through all of his pretences, leaving him feeling vulnerable and exposed like a helpless prey.

“You were the one that was staring at me earlier,” the taller man’s husky voice sounds above Kyungsoo’s head and the latter nods meekly. Chanyeol lowers his head too and tries to take a better look at the young man’s hidden face.

“You sure got guts, sneaking into the waiting area. What’s your name?”

The young journalist bites nervously into his bottom lip and all the worst possible scenarios went through his mind in light speed. He is arrested; he is arrested and sued; he is arrested, sued, and forced to sign some shady deal in addition to the legal case; he is going to be killed in this room.

When he receives no reply after a few seconds, Chanyeol impatiently grabs hold of Kyungsoo’s chin and roughly lifts his head. Dark, unfathomable orbs glares sharply into eyes of dread.

“I asked, what’s your name?”

“D-Doh Kyungsoo…”

Chanyeol narrows his eyes as he carefully looks over the young man’s face, his inspecting gaze gliding over the pair of wide eyes and traces down to the set of pouty lips hanging slightly agape. Then with his other hand, the taller man unexpectedly runs his boney fingers through Kyungsoo’s silky tresses. The tip of his nails scratch delicately across the young journalist’s scalp and the latter shudders as shots of shiver course down his back already covered in cold sweat. A spark quickly flashes in Chanyeol’s eyes before it dies out like a miffed out flame.

“Are you a journalist?” The taller man asks calmly, his hands still holding onto Kyungsoo’s chin and back of the head. The young man nods, unable to find his voice. Chanyeol stares unblinking at the nervous journalist in front of him for a few seconds longer, then stretching his cheek muscles upward and outward to his ears, he smiles broadly showing two rows of neat, pearly white teeth.

“Would you like to do an exclusive interview with me?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes snap open as wide as possible and his voice returns all of a sudden.

“What??” he screams loudly but quickly covers his mouth and whispers, “I mean, a-are you sure, Mr. Park? You’re not joking with me are you?”

The smile on Chanyeol’s face does not budge at all and he shakes his head firmly. Staring awkwardly at the man he has dreamed to interview, a hurricane of thoughts swirls around in Kyungsoo’s head. Isn’t this what he was aiming for? Yet now that his plan has become a reality, the young journalist cannot help but doubt the strangeness of the situation and his unusual good luck. He never has good luck. He has never won any lottery in the twenty-two years of his life and if anything, he is more prone to bad luck than good luck. The train always leaves right when he arrives on the platform and he cannot even count how many piles of dog poop he has stepped in.

“Why me?” He asks without thinking much and the other man retorts simply.

“Why not you?”

Kyungsoo opens his mouth then shuts it again. Why does it matter why him? Perhaps life has been saving all of his good luck for this moment. If so, then all the times he had stepped in sure were worth it.

“O-Okay, um. Yes, I’ll gladly accept!” The young journalists answers eagerly and the flame for success ignites fiercely inside him.

Noticing the other’s hands are still clamped around his head, Kyungsoo flashes Chanyeol an awkward smile and the taller man releases his holds. Taking a moment to regain his composure, the young man initiates the conversation this time around.

“Here is my card,” he says and hands over a business card with both hands. Chanyeol takes the card and gives it a brief glance before pulling out a pen from his inner coat pocket. Then flipping the card over, he scribbles some numbers and an address on the back.

“Um, Mr. Park?” Kyungsoo questions anxiously when his card is given back to him. Under the other’s unwavering gaze, the young journalist takes his card back feeling despondent and confused. Tucking his pen back away, Chanyeol explains coolly.

“I don’t like meeting people outside so you’ll have to come to my place for an interview. Three days from today at 2:00pm, wait at the north-west corner of the Park Enterprise building and a car will come pick you up. It will take you to me. Any question?”

The young journalist confirms the time and place written on the back of his card and he glances carefully at the other’s face. There seems to be no room for compromise but Kyungsoo does not mind; as long as he gets the exclusive interview with the Park Chanyeol, he could care less if they meet in a strip club. Nodding thankfully, he bows deeply and smiles happily, his mouth forming into a heart shape.

“No, no, not at all. Thank you so much for this opportunity, Mr. Park. I’ll be sure to write an amazing article!”

Chanyeol bows slightly in return and a fake smile returns on his face, along with the mysterious spark that has previously flashed in his dark eyes.

“I’m sure you will,” he mumbles. When he sees that the younger man is no longer listening, he whispers quietly to himself and his smile widens slowly.

“I will be waiting, Kyungsoo.”

---

Looking up at the dark walnut doors almost double his height, Kyungsoo laughs dryly.

“.” He mumbles and ganders disbelievingly at the large stone structure in front of him. Park Chanyeol’s home is like a small castle hidden in the woods; he did not think such a place even exists in Korea.

Awkwardly, he turns around in hopes that the driver would bring him inside. However, the old man has returned to the car and is already driving away, down the only path leading to the large estate. Bewildered at the lack of goodbye, Kyungsoo watches dumbfounded as the black Cadillac disappears around the bend. Thinking back, the young journalist does not recall the driver uttering a single word throughout the ride.

‘Maybe he’s a mute?’ Kyungsoo wonders to himself but decides quickly that it is not a matter worth spending his brain power on.

Curiously, he surveys his surroundings and sees nothing but pine trees from all sides; it is almost impossible trying to figure out where he is just by using his eyes. All he knows is that they were driving for about 3 hours; he has somehow fell asleep midway in travel. Shaking his cellphone in the air again, Kyungsoo sighs at the “no service” displaying on the upper left corner of the screen. If he is an avid horror movie fan, he’d suspect the large estate in the middle of nowhere is either haunted or the secret hide out of Park Chanyeol. But Doh Kyungsoo is a rational individual who does not believe in ghosts. The scenario of Park Chanyeol being a murderer on the other hand does make him feel a little paranoid. The secluded location of the estate and the lack of communications with the outside world add to his paranoia and an uneasy feeling settles in the back of the young journalist’s mind. However seeing the taller man is his ticket to fame and a brighter future, Kyungsoo decides to ignore all of his baseless suspicions.

Turning back to the intimating and grandiose structure in front of him, the young journalist inhales deeply and exhales shakily. Then steadying himself, he walks up the stone stairs and knocks firmly on the doors.

Kong Kong.

Silence.

A few crows from nearby trees take flight into the evening sky and soar below the rolling clouds darkening the horizon.  Kyungsoo listens carefully for any noise on the other side, but all he could hear are the ominous caws of the crows and the faint rumbles of thunder in the distance. His frown deepens as his heart grows more and more restless. Taking another breathes and bracing himself, he knocks again, this time much harder.

Kong kong.

Still silence.

Kyungsoo shuffles on the door step awkwardly and wonders what he should do. If he has the option of leaving, he would; unfortunately, he has no means of transportation (walking is not an option, Kyungsoo decides) and his phone refuses to work. Smacking his lips together and staring blankly at the dusty welcome mat beneath his feet, the young journalist silently panics in his head. The rumbling thunder approaches rapidly accompanied by flashes of lightning in the cloud covers, and Kyungsoo glances up at the blackening sky worriedly.

‘Of course,’ he thinks dejectedly and moves deeper into the protection of the front awning, ‘just my luck.’

Just then, the doors swing open from the inside and Kyungsoo jumps backward from surprise. A long whining creak echoes in the night and a lanky individual emerges from within the castle like structure. A strike of lightning hits the ground nearby and the vicinity lights up as bright as day for a split second. In the intense light, the young journalist’s eyes widen in shock at Park Chanyeol’s appearance. His emotionless face is ghastly pale and his dull onyx eyes appear hollow and abysmal like black holes. Kyungsoo gulps and thinks the man looks like a creepy vampire.

A booming clasp of thunder returns the world back to its previous darkness and gradually, all is quiet again. A polite smile has formed on Park Chanyeol’s handsome face and unblinkingly, he stares down at the frozen young journalist. Holding his breath and staring back at the taller man, Kyungsoo’s heart thumps violently. Finally, Chanyeol breaks the gaze first and he chuckles quietly at the shocked expression on the young journalist’s face. Stepping slightly to the side, he invites the guest into his home.

“Hello, Mr. Doh. Please, do come in.”

Kyungsoo nods frantically and enters. Tightly clutching his bag close to him, the young man is immediately overwhelmed by the lavish décor inside the estate. Above his head, a large antique chandelier is hanging from the tall ceiling and the hundreds of candle fire refract off of the crystals and softly illuminate the large entrance hall. Rosewood veneer furniture of Victorian style decorates the space, and intricate carvings and ornamentations enhance the already extravagant furnishings. Nameless but ancient paintings are lined up on the walls and the floor is covered in Persian rugs of various elegant designs. In awe, Kyungsoo gawks in a daze at the magnificence of Park Chanyeol’s home. For a moment, he thought he has traveled back in time to late 1800 England.

“Do you like my home, Mr. Doh?”

The home owner’s low husky voice brings the young journalist out of his amazement and turning around swiftly, Kyungsoo regards the taller man with eyes of admiration.

“Yes, your home is very beautiful, Mr. Park. Thank you so much for inviting me,” Kyungsoo says sincerely and bows. Then he shyly pulls out a box of tea bedecked in simple but sophisticated gold wrapping.

“Ah, this is a little something to show my gratitude. It’s probably nothing special to you, but I hope you will accept it.”

Chanyeol glances down at the small but classy box in Kyungsoo’s hand and he smiles. Bowing slightly, he receives the gift as the young man bows deeper, offering the gift politely with both arms.

“Thank you for your gift, I like it a lot,” the taller man replies calmly and a meaningful smirks replaces his previous smile, gone unnoticed by the bowing young man. Softly he whispers to himself: “I’m glad you like my home, Kyungsoo. It would be very disappointing if you didn’t.”

Unable to catch the other’s murmur, the young journalist questions as he straightens his back.

“Did you say something, Mr. Park?”

“No,” Chanyeol shakes his head and starts to walk towards the inner quarters of his home, “Let’s go to the library and we can do the interview there.”

Nodding obediently, Kyungsoo follows the taller man and he frowns a little in confusion; he swears he heard the other call his name. However, his attentions are soon diverted by the splendour of Park Chanyeol’s home and the young man quickly pushes his previous thoughts to the back of his head.

When both men have settled in their seats inside the large home library, Kyungsoo quickly begins his interview. Half an hour later, they went through all the standard questions regarding the Park Enterprise and Park Chanyeol’s position, as well as the tall man’s future outlooks as the new CEO. Looking down at his notes, Kyungsoo thinks for a moment before diving straight into topics him and many others are more interested in: the personal aspect of the mysterious man’s life.

“Do you live alone, Mr. Park?” The young journalist asks as the other man sips casually on the glass of red wine in his hand.

“Not exactly,” Chanyeol answers ambiguously and Kyungsoo pushes further.

“Does that mean there are other people living here with you? For a home this large, I assume you must have servants.”

“Yes, of course.”

Park Chanyeols smirks enigmatically, and the young journalist raises an inquisitive brow at the other’s vague and intriguing answers. Hiding his growing curiosity behind a polite smile, Kyungsoo continues to dig for information.

“Don’t tell me, you’re hiding a lover in his castle of yours, Mr. Park?”

Taking another sip of wine, Chanyeol looks straight into Kyungsoo’s gleaming eyes and answers calmly.

“I don’t have a lover. But would you perhaps would like to become my lover, Mr. Doh?”

Caught off guard, the young journalist blinks in surprise before letting out a couple of awkward coughs. Chuckling dryly, he faces the man across with forced amusement.

“Please don’t tease me like that, Mr. Park.”

Chanyeol smirks into his glass and moves on.

“My friends also live here with me,” the taller man says in nonchalant as he savours the smooth taste of the wine. Blinking questioning at the man sitting across, Kyungsoo patiently waits for him to say more. However, Park Chanyeol avoids his gaze and shifts his attention to swivelling the last bit of wine inside the crystal glass. Realizing he has hit a dead end, Kyungsoo jolts something down on his memo before asking another question.

“Do you have any special hobby, Mr. Park?”

“Special hobby?”

“Yes, special hobby,” Kyungsoo smiles encouragingly, his lips forming into a pretty heart shape, “not reading or golfing, but something that’s unique and sets you apart from everyone else.”

Park Chanyeol contemplates for a moment before he looks seriously at the young journalist.

“I do,” he casts his eyes slightly and his voice lowers in tone, “but I am afraid it might frighten you.”

Kyungsoo’s heart skips a beat and for a split second, his previous paranoia about Park Chanyeol being a murderer looms over his thoughts again but the young journalists quickly waves his suspicions away. Still smiling, he regains his usual calm and replies light-heartedly.

“Oh come on Mr. Park, we are both men. What could you possibly do as a hobby that’d frighten me! I am not scared that easily.”

Having caught the brief uneasiness flashing through the other’s clear eyes, Chanyeol smirks again and drains the wine in his glass.

“Very well then, Mr. Doh. If you insist,” the taller man says and gets up from his seat, “follow me.”

Exiting out of the large library, the two men stroll down the long hallway, dimly illuminated by antique lights mounted to the walls. Outside, the rain is thrashing violently against the windows and roofs. Kyungsoo glances warily at the horrible weather and his heart tightens nervously; a bad feeling is creeping on him. Shrugging his shoulders up and down, he tries to shake it off.

At the end of the long hallway, a set of black walnut doors appears, identical to the front door but half the height. Standing in front of the doors, Chanyeol places his hand on the brass handles and turns to face the shorter man standing stiffly beside him.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this, Mr. Doh?”

The taller man smirks and something other than mirth, something almost sinister, shimmers in his dark eyes. A flash of lightning descends from the sky again and casts their distorted shadows against the wooden door. Kyungsoo fidgets nervously and flashes a forced smile at the smirking man.

“Of course, Mr. Park.”

“Then, here it is,” the door slowly opens and the lamps placed around the room lights up immediately.

“Welcome to my Great Exhibition.”

Greeted by the unexpected and unusual scene before him, Kyungsoo blinks in stupor and his mind goes blank. All round the room are large display boxes and inside, stuffed furry creatures of all kinds are vividly enacting a typical human activity. One of the displays on the left side is decorated to resemble a Victorian school house. Two dozen stuffed bunnies and guinea pigs are crowded around rows of miniature long tables, and their paws are holding onto tiny pens and notebooks. Some of them are standing and some of them are sitting, but all of them are engaged in learning. A stuffed rabbit dressed like a professor from a century ago is placed in front of small black board and writing down equations.

On the other side of the room, there is another display decorated to depict a flower garden and a dozen stuff kittens are seated around a table meticulously covered with fake but realistic looking food and tea sets. Little bow ties, canes, and delicate frilly hats completed the kittens’ look of human likeliness and all the furry creatures are positioned in different postures. Some of them are chatting with their kitten friend next seat while others are pouring tea and sharing scones.

There are a total of over ten displays of animals taxidermy placed around the room. All the displays are made with small creatures, such as bunnies, kittens, rats, guinea pigs, squirrels or mini pigs. Kyungsoo’s wide eyes shift carefully from one display to another, starting with the left side of the room then to the right, and an uncomfortable knot twinges in the pit of his stomach. Although there is a certain whimsical charm to the displays, the young journalist cannot overlook the fact that the room is filled with dead, stuffed animals.

“So, what do you think?”

Park Chanyeol breaks the silence as he walks around in the room, carefully some of the miniature furniture inside the display. Kyungsoo opens his mouth but no sound is coming out; shocked and abhorred at the other man’s unique collection, the young journalist is rendered speechless. When he receives no answer, Chanyeol does not seem to mind and he speaks instead.

“These are the replicas of the original collection made by Walter Potter. He was a famous taxidermist who made art pieces by using stuffed small games. These displays are done in a style called anthropomorphic taxidermy, which is considered to be a Victorian whimsy and many in that era decorated their home with the stuffed animals engaging in a series of human activities. But I guess in the 21^st century, my collection is a little morbid?”

Park Chanyeol chuckles in nonchalant and Kyungsoo nods numbly. He walks up beside the taller man and cautiously glances over the small games positioned disturbingly in human like postures. A shiver runs down his back and he holds back the urge to shudder.

“D-did you buy these, Mr. Park? It must have been quite expensive collecting all of these displays.” Kyungsoo asks quietly. Chanyeol turns to face him as if he has just asked the most ridiculous question.

“Buy them? Oh no, I don’t do that,” the man chuckles again, his eyes squinting with glee as thin crinkles form around the corner of his eyes.

“I made them myself, all of them.”

Another shiver travels down Kyungsoo’s tense back and this time he shudders visibly. A genuine happy smile blooms on Park Chanyeol’s handsome face, but because of the eerie glow flickering in the man’s dark eyes, Kyungsoo thinks he looks somewhat sinister. Quickly looking away, the young journalist’s gaze darts aimlessly around the room and searched desperately for anything else to look at. Finally, it lands on the large doll house placed at the very back of the room. Although the doll house appears old, the young man could tell it has been taken good care of. Curious and keen to get away from the stuffed games all around the room, he walks up to doll house and scans over the familiar looking structure.

‘Ah!’ the young man realizes all of a sudden, ‘it looks like this estate!’

Standing in front of the structure almost as tall as he is, the young journalist peeks inside through the small windows. From the first floor up to the second floor, he counts eleven dolls in total, each placed in a room. All of the dolls are male and they are all really handsome. Kyungsoo thinks some of them can even be called pretty, like the one with puppy eyes sitting by the piano and the blond one in soccer uniform he has almost mistaken for a girl doll. Each of the dolls’ look is unique and their uncanny human resemblance makes the young man feel a little uncomfortable. If it wasn’t for the obvious emptiness in their glass eyes, Kyungsoo’d think they are real humans shrunken to doll size.

“The one in the eastern quarter master bedroom is my favourite.”

Suddenly, Chanyeol’s deep voice sounds from behind and Kyungsoo jumps a little. Feeling the other’s hot breath just mere inches away from his ear, the young man shifts closer to the doll house and peaks through the window pointed at by the boney finger from above his head. A doll slightly smaller than the rest, with black hair and porcelain skin is sitting on a large poster bed. A part of his glossy glass eyes are covered by thick long lashes and the doll’s plump lips are tinted red.

“Doesn’t he look like you?”

Chanyeol’s voice whispers from behind him and Kyungsoo’s body tenses. He too has noticed the resemblance and the knot at the pit of his stomach tightens even more. A thin layer of cold sweat forms on his back and the bottom of his dried lips wavers as he tries to speak. However before he could say something, the other’s cellphone interrupts the strange silence instead and Chanyeol walks a few steps away to pick up his call. Kyungsoo lets out a sigh of relief and he steadies his shaky knees, leaning against the doll house for support. ‘What was that…’ his mind races and he glances carefully at the other man’s broad back. The uncomfortable feeling is still stirring in the pit of his stomach and Kyungsoo frowns. Quickly checking his watch, he decides that it is time to leave. The longer he stays with the taller man, the more he realizes how unusual the man is. His instinct is warning him again of the danger that is Park Chanyeol; his paranoia grows stronger by the second and Kyungsoo becomes more wary of the fear growing silently in his heart. He doesn’t know why he is scared, but he knows he should be.

However, his plan to escape is ruined by the news from Chanyeol.  

“There is a mudslide and the only road to the estate is blocked. I am afraid you will need to stay the night.”

Thunder rumbles above the house and a pair of dark eyes looks straight into nervous orbs. Taking a step closer to the young man visibly troubled by the news, Chanyeol smiles his usual toothy grin. Cautiously, Kyungsoo takes a step back and his frown deepens. Ignoring of the other’s hesitance, the taller man extends a hand like a gentleman.

“I have already prepared dinner, Mr. Doh. Please join me.”

That was not an invitation but a command and Kyungsoo bits into his lower lip. Listening to the rain still thrashing about outside, the young man hesitates and the bottom of his right eye twitches ominously; his grandmother used to say that it is an omen for bad things about to happen. Under Park Chanyeol’s intense and unmoving gaze, Kyungsoo suddenly feels like a prey, helplessly trapped and at the mercy of the taller man’s hand.

“Mr. Doh.”

The boney hand inches closer to him and unable to refuse any longer, Kyungsoo finally takes the hand.

“Very good,” Chanyeol smiles wider and his unblinking gazes traces slowly over the journalist’s pale face.

“I am so very glad you could stay, Mr. Doh,” he says in his husky voice and a crow caws loudly outside, “so very glad.”

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