Chan woke up screaming. There were tears running down his tears and his chest was tight. His first instinct was to reach for his phone. Looking through a thick wall of tears in his eyes, everything was blurred, but he somehow managed to dial for Soonyoung.

“Hello Chan?” Soonyoung’s voice was deep, sounding like he’d just woken up.

Chan didn’t speak. No, he couldn’t speak. His throat was blocked and the tears couldn’t stop.

“Hyung,” He finally croaked out. That was all he could manage. His breath was coming too fast, too short, in rapid gasps. He couldn’t breathe properly. Everything started swaying.

“Chan, you’re hyperventilating,” Soonyoung said. “Calm down, listen to my voice, okay? Now take a deep breath.”

Soonyoung’s soothing voice worked like magic. Chan felt himself begin to relax, taking one deep breath after another. The load on his chest started to lighten and he wiped away the remaining tears. He breathed in air like a long satisfying drink.

“Better now?”

Chan hummed a yes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hyung, it’s me,” he said, throat sore from screaming.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s me. I’m the next target. I’m the one in the warehouse. He’s going to kill me next.” Chan didn’t know how he managed to say such frightening words so calmly.

There was a long pause. “Stay where you are,” he said finally. “I’m coming over now.”

Chan nodded, before realizing Soonyoung couldn’t see him. He uttered a small ‘okay’.

“Do you know when it’s going to happen?”

Chan didn’t.

“Don’t worry, Chan,” Soonyoung comforted quietly. “I said I’ll protect you right?”

Chan smiled despite his predicament.

Throughout the whole time, Soonyoung refused to hang up, talking gently about random things over the phone in an attempt to calm Chan down.

Finally, after ten minutes, there was a knock on his door.

Chan sprang up and walked towards the door. “Hyung, you’re here already so fast?” he asked.

There was a chilly silence.

“DON’T” Soonyoung shouted over the phone, just as Chan placed his hand on the door knob.

“I’m still on the road!” Soonyoung shouted frantically.

Chan stilled, his hand retracting slowly. Then…who?

The door shook violently as the knocks outside turned to banging.

----------

Soonyoung pressed on the pedal once again.

“Hyung, he’s here! He’s outside!” He could hear the panic in the younger’s voice.

Swallowing nervously, he tried to remain as a calm as possible for the other’s sake. “Chan, I want you to go to the next room and hide there. Don’t go to your bedroom, he’ll be looking there first. Hide in the bathroom or the closet, anywhere. Just don’t come out.”

“Okay,” he heard Chan whisper, his voice wavering.

“Is he still there?” Soonyoung asked worriedly after a moment.

Chan let out a deep breath and listened carefully. “The banging has stopped but I don’t know if—”

A scream rang out from the phone.

Soonyoung’s heart dropped to his stomach.

“Chan?! What happened?!” He all but yelled into the phone. There’s rustling and clattering on the other side, but no response. And suddenly, the usual flat beeping tone of the phone returned. Someone had just hung up on him.

Soonyoung tossed his phone onto the passenger’s seat and sped up, his grip on the wheel so tight his knuckles turned white.

“Goddammit!” he cursed, slamming his palm onto the wheel. Why was he so useless?

He reached thirty minutes too late. The door hanging on its hinges was the first indication that everything was wrong. The inside was an even bigger mess. Chairs overturned, items strewn over the floor, broken glassware shards everywhere. But no sign of Chan or the Killer.

Pressing the heel of his palms to his eyes, he let out a quivering sigh. ‘Think!’ he chided himself. The Killer must have not wanted to kill Chan immediately. Then where would he have taken him?

Right. The warehouse.

Without wasting a single second, he swept out his phone and called Seungcheol, just as he clambered onto his car.

“What do you want,” Seungcheol hissed. “It’s freaking three in the morning.”

“Sir, please believe me. The Killer’s taken the next victim to the warehouse I told you about. At Y Street. He’s probably in there right now.”

“What?”

“I’m going there as well but I’m going to need backup. Please sir, it’s a matter of life and death,” Soonyoung said with an air of finality, before hanging up.

He could only hope he wasn’t too late.

----------

Chan opened his eyes wearily, blinking his eyes rapidly to get used to the brightness. He was sitting in the same warehouse, at that exact same spot, underneath the shattered window, its shattered pieces littered around on the ground behind Chan. This was all too familiar to him. He felt droplets of water from outside splattering on his nape, heard the thundering sound of rainwater hitting the pavement outside. His head hurt. A dull, numbing ache hitting the back of his head intermittently. What had happened?

He had been hiding in the bathroom. Someone had broken the door open and grabbed him. He pushed, he ran. And then suddenly, there was a blow to the back of his head. And he was falling, everything turned dark.

“You’re finally awake,” a low, raspy voice to his right spoke.

Chan jerked up so fast he might have sprained something. The Killer.

He had greasy, dishevelled hair that reached his shoulder. A long, sallow face with a scraggly beard and a long and lean body. He was dressed in a ragged shirt and a pair of beige pants. Chan wasn’t sure if the colour was because of the lack of proper washing or not. But the scariest thing about him was his eyes.

They were a pair of hollow, crazed eyes. Eyes that were bloodthirsty and ruthless. Eyes that looked at him as if he was a piece of meat. He bent down to match their eye level, pulling out shiny dagger.

“So I’ve been thinking,” the Killer spoke slowly, as if taking his time to torment Chan. “I remember the first time I saw you. You’re the one who saw me kill her, right?” He grinned, revealing crooked, blackish-yellow teeth.

Chan dared not speak.

“Well, I realised, ever since then…you always found a way to mess things up, didn’t you? Hmm?” The knife was grazing his skin. It skimmed over his cheek, but not deep enough to cut.

Chan lowered his head, his lower lip quivering slightly, refusing to meet the other’s eyes.

“You interrupted me one more time, this time before I could kill her! You and that detective! And then everything went in a downward spiral after that. They figured out what I looked like! It won’t be long before they catch me! Do you know the feeling of having everything taken from you right under your nose?!” He bellowed into Chan’s face.

Chan winced but didn’t look up.

“And then, you know what I realized?” The killer asked, voice becoming calm again. “I realized this happened ever since you appeared. This is all your fault. You ruined everything.”

A sharp pain shot up his hand as Chan’s fingers pressed onto something sharp behind him. It was a glass shard.

“Can you imagine how surprised I was when I saw you coming to this very warehouse? You were foolish to come so near to where I stayed. So I followed you. And you led me right to your cosy little house. So I decided to find you. Because you need to be taught a lesson, don’t you agree?”

Chan gripped onto the glass shard and looked up, straight into the killer’s eyes with newfound determination. His dream hadn’t shown him the ending. He was not going to let it be a bad one.

“Oh… how I’m going to enjoy this,” he gave a sadistic smile.

Chan saw the knife swing up with a ‘swoosh’ but before it had the chance of plunging downwards, Chan’s already swinging his arm out. He felt the glass shard come into contact with something soft, felt it pierce skin, felt it cut through.

The killer screamed, a large gash across his face, his hands hovering in front of his face in shock. Chan didn’t look again, already running off, adrenaline pumping in his veins furiously.

“You bastard!” he heard the killer screech but he didn’t turn around. He summoned all his energy to his legs as he sprinted even faster and pushed the door of the warehouse open, running straight into the rain.

There’s no one in sight. Who would even be out with this kind of weather? The rain was so heavy, it turned the surroundings blurry and foggy. He couldn’t make out anything in the distance clearly. The torrents of droplets felt like bullets pelting his skin, his clothes and hair became soaked through in a matter of seconds. But Chan didn’t stop running, constantly wiping the rain out of his eyes.

He was on the road now and Chan almost thought he was going to make it.

Until a hand grabbed his shoulder.

“No!” he cried out desperately, hands reaching out to claw at the air as he felt himself being tugged backed. The force knocked his off his balance and he fell backwards onto his back with a splash.

“Though you could run, huh?” The Killer cackled. Wet clumps of hair stuck to his face, water droplets spraying out as he spoke.

Chan felt all the previous hope and adrenaline out of him. He was left feeling empty, drained and cold, his insides twisting in a numbing fear.

The Killer positioned the dagger, advancing on him. Chan’s body felt like lead. He wanted to get up and run, but his body wasn’t obeying him. He stayed rooted to the spot, watching helplessly. This was it. He was going to die today, right now.

Only he didn’t. Luck was apparently on his side. The Killer was suddenly ed to the side, his body crumpling onto the ground as he fell.

Soonyoung stood just where the Killer was moments ago, thoroughly wet and panting slightly. Chan’s body slackened as relief engulfed him. The remaining energy seeped out of him and he felt weak with relief.

The moment of happiness was over as soon as it started. The Killer got up at the speed of light and pounced onto Soonyoung, knife still in hand. They were now wrestling each other, one trying to kill and one trying not to get killed, the rainwater still pouring relentlessly down on them.

Chan stood up unsteadily, wiping his wet bangs to the sight so his vision wasn’t obscured. Water squelched in his shoes as he took a hesitant step forward. He noticed the knife come close to Soonyoung’s face and chest one too many times, but he was helpless to do anything.

Was he really going to let Soonyoung get killed? And because of him? Chan gritted his teeth. He had to do something.

Pushing fear and rational thinking to the back of his mind, he dashed forward and seized the Killer’s arm that was currently raised upright and holding onto the knife, with both his hands.

The Killer looked back in shock and growled menacingly.

The arm twisted roughly in his grip, and Chan tried desperately not to lose his hold. But he’d underestimate the Killer’s strength. He had a lot of strength for someone so scrawny. The arm broke free of his grasp.

Chan realised it before it even happened. It was as if everything was moving in slow motion. He saw the arm swing down, saw it come up from below again, turning a full hundred and eighty degrees, elbow bending.

Saw the blade pierce his stomach.

And then the pain crashing onto him like a tsunami wave.

Chan’s mouth was open in shock but no sound came out. He took in a jagged breath. An intense, searing pain tore through him, as if something with sharp canines was tearing him apart from the inside. Like a white-hot iron hand had sunk its claws into him, gripping his flesh and twisting it. He stumbled backwards and dropped to his knees, pain igniting in him once again, its flames his insides. He felt the back of his eyes burn. His hands came up to the skin around the knife, feeling something wet trickle down his fingers. It was his blood. Of all things, Chan hadn’t expected to die like this. The senses in the rest of his body drained away, and he could only feel pain, pain, and pain. His brain felt like rubber, heavy and sinking. His body weighed down like lead, refusing to move. The surroundings blinked in and out of focus, everything was hazy and surreal.

Chan lost track of time, as he knelt in the middle of the rain, his clothes and wet hair clinging to his body. Everything became a torture, the slightest movement of his chest from breathing sent a fresh wave of pain coursing through him, the sharpness of it spreading all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes.

He could vaguely make out the outline of Soonyoung and the Killer in front of him. They were fighting, throwing punches at each other. But Chan was so drowsy with pain. He didn’t even have the will to lift his head up. Water droplets dripped off his nose and chin as he remained motionless.

A loud siren sound punctuated the air, breaking through the rain. There was a flash of blue and red in the corner of his eye. Chan focused on it, so he wouldn’t pass out. He sensed a commotion up ahead.

All of a sudden, a familiar citrus scent invaded his nose, extinguishing the flames inside him. Soonyoung was kneeling by his side. It was as if someone had lifted the huge rock over his head, making him immediately feel a lot lighter.

Chan leaned into the warm body, Soonyoung’s arms came up to wrap around his shoulders gently. All the senses hit him at once, this time more intensified as if to make up for the previous numbness. It hurt. Everything hurt. And he’s cold. So very cold. His body was like ice, fingers hurting and he’s pretty sure his quivering lips were blue. Despite the rain, Soonyoung was like a human heater. The heat from his body seeped into him, warming him up like hot soup and Chan graciously accepted it, moving closer. He’s safe now.

A lone tear slipped out. Then another, and another. A dam started breaking in him. A racking sob ripped through him, leaving him shivering. The tears, mixed with the rain droplets, ran freely, hot on his icy skin as he cried out into Soonyoung’s shirt. He didn’t know if he was shaking uncontrollably because of crying or the cold.

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry!” Soonyoung was shouting. His voice could hardly be heard over the rain and the insistent ringing in his ears.

Chan wanted to tell him that there’s no need to be sorry and it’s really his fault for running straight into the knife and he’d rather run into it a hundred more times than let Soonyoung be the one that gets stabbed. But his mouth stopped functioning a long time ago. He only fisted his hands in Soonyoung’s shirt tighter as a response.

“It’s over. It’s over now,” Soonyoung repeated into the top of Chan’s head, enveloping him in a bigger embrace and rubbing circles on his back.

Chan didn’t stop crying. Eyelids drooping down, the last thing he saw was Soonyoung’s crying face before he was swallowed into blackness.