Jackson loaded the gun.

He pulled the trigger.

The gun fired, and like in slow motion, gunpowder shot out of the barrel so powerful Jackson’s grip around the of the gun loosened.

Jaebum froze, and closed his eyes. A handful of seconds later, he reopened them to see his enemy towering over him, an arm outstretched. Jackson was staring at him, something like madness glinting in his irises.

Jaebum’s ears burned where the bullet had grazed him before lodging itself in the ground half an inch away from his ear. He swallowed hard and exhaled the breath he’d been holding in as Jackson tossed the gun away.

“She’s with me,” Jackson said, not smiling anymore. “Get the message across.”

And he disappeared from Jaebum’s line of sight.

***

A gunshot erupted shaking the night up and sending wild animals scurrying away and birds flying away.

Then another, and another as her pursuer shot blindly in the hopes of scaring her out of her hideout. She flinched each time.

He shot again and… fire.

Her arm was on fire.

It was her from the shoulder and down to her fingertips. And then it spread to her whole body like a cobweb, triggering each nerve ending.

Unbeknownst to him, the man had successfully shot her square through the shoulder.

Yet the pain seemed to be everywhere.

From the top of her head to the tip of her toes, she felt burning pain like she never had before.

One of her hands flew to her shoulder by reflex, pressing against the wound like she saw so many times on TV. She caught her forearm between her teeth to prevent any screams from tumbling out .

“Stop it, stop it!” The other man hissed, grabbing his partner’s arm. “She’s not here, imbecile. Keep on going before we lose her for good.”

The other grumbled something under his breath and they left. When their steps faded out for good, Bora released her arm from her teeth and the taste of blood spread in . She was still trying to stop the blood from gushing out of her wound with uneven breaths. Her pain mixed with terror, her whole body shaking uncontrollably.

It took her a solid five minutes to get back standing on her legs. They felt like jelly and her whole being was crying for some rest. Her brain urged her to get the hell out of these woods, but her body wanted to shut down completely and take a rest right on a bed of cherry blossoms. She didn’t really know where she was going. She just knew she needed to move. If she remained here, there would be no hope of her being found ever again.

Just when she was about to give up, lay down on the dirt and let herself slip away, a light flickered in the corner of her eye.

It seemed close but then again, her judgement was clouded by her dazed state.

She struggled to focus on the logical part of her brain, and her body responded with a wave of dizziness. She used the last of her strength to stumble out the woods, taking occasional breaks leaning against thick trunks. She didn’t know how long it took for her to finally see the outline of the building where the light was.

It was a gas station.

She'd covered most of the distance, yet the time between first seeing the light and actually reaching it seemed even longer. When she reached the asphalt road separating the woods from the gas station, it reminded her of the night of her mother’s death.

The road was a perfect replica. The only thing missing was the rain. She swore she could smell the smoke, and oil pouring out the gas tank. All the rush of bad memories took her breath away and made her stomach churn.

 She ended the last feet half running and half crawling, wanting to get as far away as possible from the road, trying to distance the invisible beast chasing after her. She stepped into the station’s phonebooth, the only thing lit up besides the sign above the gas pumps.

Bora knew the digits by heart.

“Congratulations! You have reached the voicemail of Bambam. If you’re a hot chick, you may leave a message at the tone. If you’re one of Bambam's friends, you may also leave a message at the tone. If you’re not hot and not one of Bambam's friends, call back when you are!”

Her legs gave out and she slipped to the floor of the cabin, “What the…” Bora’s voice cracked, close to tears. Had this been a joke to him? “F-ing Jackson W—”

constricted and she choked on the end of her sentence; it’d taken a lot of energy just to say that.

“Wait, who is you?” The voice from the voicemail asked, audibly surprised.

She pulled the phone away and stared at it with a frown, forgetting the pain for a split second.

“Who is you?” She bit back, plastering the phone against her ear.

“I asked first!” The person said in a boyish voice.

She sighed, not up for a fight or to play games, “I’m Bora, Lee Bora.”

“In the name of all that’s holy… How did you get that number?” The young man asked.

“Jackson gave it to me in case of emergency, but I don’t think that’s what’s important right now,” She added, getting slightly annoyed. She stole a glance in the direction of her blood-red shoulder and closed her eyes.

“What happened?” Bambam asked, more serious.

After a quick recount of the night’s events Bambam told her to stay put while he called backup. She didn’t bother telling him she was in no shape to wander around. And even if she was, where would she go anyway?

“Hurry.” She pressed him.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” He said dryly before hanging up.

Bora wanted to protest, she wanted him to stay on the line. Even if she didn’t know him, she didn’t want to be left alone. She’d rather deal with an insolent boy than be left alone to her scary thoughts.

But she didn’t have the strength to and was left with the flat tone of the phone.

So she waited, zoning in and out. And every time she slipped away, the burning of her wound brought her back to reality.

Until it didn’t anymore.

She couldn’t feel her arm anymore.

She was numb; felt herself slipping for good.

***

Jackson stopped at the gas station, tires screeching.

Not bothering to kill the engine, he exited the car and ran to the phone booth. It was the only thing lit up in the middle of the night and stood out. His steps faltered at the pitiful sight of Bora sitting on the booth’s floor, a heap of blood and torn fabric.

He closed the distance between them in two powerful strides, and crouched down next to the girl. No need to check her pulse, she was breathing heavily, eyes closed. She was alive but barely. He quickly scanned her to assess her injuries. A bullet through the shoulder. He rested her head against his shoulder, as he searched for the entrance hole. He leaned her back against the glass wall of the booth and her head lolled on one side.

“It’s still inside,” He cursed under his breath.

He lightly slapped her cheek a few times, “Bora, wake up. Wake up.”

She cracked her eyes open at his voice. Her eyes were unfocused and she gazed beyond Jackson’s shoulder.

“I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him.” She muttered, obviously delirious.

“Stay with me.” Jackson picked her up from the ground and eased her in the passenger seat.

“How is she?” Bambam asked through the car’s speaker after they departed.

“Alive. I’m bringing her to the Clay House.”

“That thing still exists?”

“I guess.” Jackson replied evasively with a shrug, even though Bambam couldn’t see him.

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