Haneul suddenly shook her head violently, managing to regain her reason as she stared at the boy in mild shock. He simply smirked back, an amused expression on his lips like he had just finished telling some kind of joke and was entertained by the girl’s surprised reaction. The other boy, still smoking his cigarette, simply rolled his eyes and snorted at his companion.

“Excuse me?” Haneul asked hotly as she crossed her arms to glare at the strange boy. “It’s not polite to joke about those kinds of things, especially since I have no idea who you are!” she scolded. The boy’s smirk widened, then he suddenly took Haneul’s hand and gently kissed the top of it.

“My apologies, miss. It does seem that I’ve neglected to introduce myself. My name is Baro, and that edgy bastard over there is Jinyoung,” he replied smoothly, his eyebrows raised expectantly as he patiently awaited Haneul’s response. Blushing slightly, the girl suddenly pulled her hand away and rubbed the leftover saliva on her shirt, both flattered and disgusted. However, rather than an angry response she could only utter an embarrassed introduction.

“I’m Haneul,” she replied quietly, and a small smile appeared on Baro’s lips. He straightened up slightly, edging closer to her as he gazed into her eyes.

“Haneul? That’s a beautiful name. You certainly do look like you came from Heaven,” he sighed, but the suave words bounced off of her like a shield; she placed a hand on his chest and firmly pushed him back, the discomfort evident on her expression. He frowned, as if he was displeased. “Aw, you’re no fun, doll face,” he whined.

“My name is not ‘doll face,’ and I don’t appreciate such blatant disrespect for my personal space,” she snorted as she scooched over to put some distance between the two. “Why are you still here, anyway? And why did you stop at a police station, of all places?” she asked accusingly. Baro frowned slightly and ran a hand through his dark hair, Suddenly, Jinyoung threw down his cigarette and squashed it underfoot, extinguishing the small flames burning within the tobacco. Smoke trailed from underneath his sneaker as he glared in Haneul’s direction, and the intensity in his eyes suddenly sent a jolt of fear shooting through her body. His black eyes glittered maliciously, and his expression was hardened with contempt, while his mouth was curled into a small smirk. Haneul could only describe the look like hunger, and it unnerved her immensely.

“I should get back inside. The investigator will be wanting to finish my interrogation,” she murmured quietly, rising unsteadily to her feet. Suddenly, a hand shot up to firmly grip her arm, and she glanced down to see that a darkness had fallen over Baro’s expression.

“Hold on, doll face. I don’t believe we’ve finished our conversation, and it’s rude to just walk off in the middle of one,” he growled slightly, his finger’s tightening around her skin. She began shaking with fear, wondering how such a seemingly innocent situation could have spiraled out of control so quickly. As she opened to call for help, Jinyoung swooped in beside her and covered with a hand.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he hissed into her ear, his intense gaze bearing down on her like a looming shadow. She quaked in the grip of the two men, terrified of what would happen next. It was like having awoken from one nightmare only to have realized that she was trapped in another, more sinister one. Will they murder me? Will they sell me to human traffickers? Or worse…? She thought, squeezing her eyes shut as Baro stood up beside her and gently cupped her chin in his hand.

“Aw, don’t be afraid, doll face,” he purred in his soothing voice. He was close enough for Haneul to feel his hot breath on the surface of her skin. His thumb her cheek, sending disgusted shivers up the entirety of Haneul’s spine. “I promise, we aren’t going to hurt you. We just wanted to get a little privacy, right, Jinyoung?” he mused, releasing Haneul’s face with a chuckle. The other man didn’t answer, just began pushing against Haneul’s back and forcing her to walk. He held her arm tightly behind her back, not painfully but forcefully, as Baro walked in front, whistling as if he were on an evening stroll rather than kidnapping a frightened young girl. They brought her down into a dark alleyway, separated from the busy street and the perfect place to carry out any number of diabolical schemes. Jinyoung shoved Haneul roughly forward, and she stumbled before falling roughly against the brick wall at the back of the alley. She whipped around to face the two boys, whose menacing forms blocked the entrance.

“What are you going to do to me?” she demanded angrily. As she rushed forward in a feeble attempt to break through their defense, Baro easily caught her by the hand and pushed her back against the wall. His other hand was pressed against the brick wall beside her head, and his body was painfully close as he gazed levelly at Haneul.

“Just relax, doll face,” he smirked, his dark eyes flashing as the moonlight appeared from behind a thick cloud to illuminate the frightening scene unfolding within the dark alley. “Just let me end everything for you,” he whispered, and it felt as if he had poured honey on his words. Haneul’s mind wavered as a thick fog descended on her senses. The scenery seemed to shift and dance, giving her the immense sensation of dizziness. As her knees buckled, knocked off-balance from the swirling ground beneath Haneul’s feet, Baro’s arm encircled her waist and caught her before she fell. Her limbs felt impossibly heavy, like she was descended in syrup. She lay helpless in his arms, captive to the strange, entrancing quality of the boy’s voice. “I can take away all your pain, all your sorrow…” he whispered.

“All my pain… All my sorrow,” Haneul echoed dumbly. Baro seemed to be the only thing in focus, as if he were framed in a soft light. Her eyes traced over his fine features- the defined jawline, the flawless skin, the silky hair, the intense eyes. He seemed to be an angel that had come to deliver Haneul from her world of suffering, her only salvation in the hellish nightmare that had become her existence.

“That’s right, Haneul,” he murmured as he brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. “All you have to do is say ‘You can have my soul,’ and it will all go away.” My soul? That’s all? chimed a tiny voice in the back of the girl’s mind. It certainly didn’t see like too much of a request in return for banishing the heartrending pain and endless sorrow. Haneul’s mouth opened, the damning words already in her tongue, but she failed to release them.

A feeling was rising in Haneul, the terrible feeling that something was dreadfully wrong, chasing away the dense fog that Baro had seemingly cast over her mind. Her hands rose to push against Baro’s chest, her limbs still heavy like sandbags as she struggled against the enchantment cast upon her. Both Baro and Jinyoung’s triumphant expressions shifted to those of pure bewilderment as the young girl continued to regain consciousness.

“No, let go of me,” she pleaded feebly.

“Come on, Haneul,” Baro pressed, his voice thickening with the powerful magic. “Don’t you want to be happy again? All you have to do is say the words, and all the bad things will be gone.” She shook her head forcefully, chasing away the dense, invisible mist that was threatening to overtake her once more. Baro continued to tighten his grip around her as she attempted to break free of him, and with a final, incomprehensible screech her hand shot up and struck him across the face. A resounding slap echoed through the alleyway, piercing the still silence of the night air.

Immediately the strange sensation vanished, and Haneul fell roughly on her behind to the dirty alley ground as Baro suddenly released her. She had regained her senses, and hurriedly scrambled away from the dark figure, enshrouded in shadow as the moon was eclipsed by another cloud. Baro rubbed his cheek thoughtfully where Haneuls’s hand had made contact, his eyes narrowed in slight confusion as he regarded her with a mix of anger and wonder.

“Well, that’s new,” he remarked simply. Jinyoung, however, was quite enraged.

“See, this is what happens when you play around!” he barked to Baro. The boy became extremely pouty, still tenderly rubbing the red mark on his flawless face.

“I wasn’t playing around,” he protested. “Somehow, she got out of it. I’m not sure how. Sheer willpower?” he shrugged.

“Well, how else are we supposed to get her to voluntarily give up her soul?” Jinyoung snapped back.

“My soul?” Haneul cried incredulously from her position on the dirty bricked floor of the alley. Baro and Jinyoung suddenly looked at her, having apparently forgotten about her for the duration of the short exchange. “Who are you lunatics? You can’t take my soul!” she cried. Baro smiled knowingly, crouching down in front of Haneul with the most amused expression yet. She flinched as he reached up to place a hand on her cheek.

“Of course we can, doll face,” he grinned. “We are demons, after all.”

Suddenly it seemed as if a page in a book had been pulled away to reveal an entirely new illustration. Attached to Baro’s back was a pair of giant wings, with large feathers blacker than midnight shining in the moonlight. Jinyoung also featured a pair of the magnificent feathered structures, with a reddish hue like blood. One could almost confuse them for angels, with their devilishly exquisite features and massive wings, but the darkness glittering in their eyes told Haneul an entirely different story. Baro’s canines even seemed sharper than normal, like those of a blood- vampire, as he grinned at her.

“I don’t understand,” she stammered dumbly. “I thought demons possessed people and made you do crazy things.” Baro burst into laughter at the response, waving a hand dismissively before gazing levelly into Haneul’s eyes once more.

“Humans are quite imaginative creatures. Demons are really no different than angels, just different sides of the same coin,” he shrugged, resting his elbows on his knees as he continued to crouch down in front of the confused girl. His impressive wings ruffled slightly as he readjusted them, flashing in the little light streaming down from the night sky. If they weren’t attached to such a vile creature, Haneul would have found them quite beautiful. She gasped as his hand shot out once more to secure her face, holding it in such a way that the girl could not break eye contact. “Now, let’s try this again.”

Haneul prepared for the strange, trance-like feeling to descend upon her once more, but before Baro could speak, the three tensed as a familiar voice echoed through the air.

“Haneul! Where are you?” the disembodied voice called, and Haneul felt a flurry of hope fluttering in her heart.

“Sandeul!” she cried, jerking in Baro’s grip. The demon frowned deeply, weighing his options as the voice continued to approach. He dropped his hand and stood, a smirk spreading across his lips.

“See you later, doll face. I’ll see you real soon, so don’t be sad while I’m gone,” he mused. Haneul cried out in dismay as his face suddenly shot close to her own, and the wily demon planted a quick kiss on her cheek. With joyous laughter, he jumped to his feet, and his massive wings suddenly burst open on his back, flapping powerfully and carrying him into the night sky. Jinyoung glared savagely at Haneul before he took off into the sky after his companion, moments before Sandeul appeared in the entrance of the alleyway.

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” he scolded as he dashed over to her and helped her to her feet. He fretted over her, checking her for injuries and reprimanding her for running off, like a mother hen would do to her chick. Haneul only half-listened, staring at the cluster of stars where the strange demon boy’s body had disappeared. The fear had now faded away, replaced by a strange fascination. At her feet lie a discarded black feather, and it was carried away by a gust of wind as Sandeul led his traumatized friend from the alleyway.

“Haneul, why did you leave?” he demanded. Haneul blinked, her attention torn away from the sky at last. She hesitated to answer as she mulled over the question. Of course, it would be impossible to tell the truth; no one would believe that she had been abducted by two demons after her soul. If the officer heard about such a tall tale, she would likely be placed into a psychiatric ward.

“I went to get some fresh air,” she replied after a moment. “I didn’t want to stand by the police station, so I walked around for a bit. I got turned around and ended up in the alley, and it was so dark that I tripped,” she lied. Sandeul frowned as he processed her fabrication, his hand on his chin; after a minute, he shrugged and nodded.

“I suppose I can’t blame you. We don’t have to go back to the police station, though,” he revealed. “The investigator told me that he was through questioning you for the time being.” Haneul breathed a sigh of relief, extremely grateful that she had the fortune of not being forced to face the officer and his personal questions, at least for the rest of the night. She pulled out her phone, still smudged with her mother’s blood, to glance at the time. It was almost midnight.

Haneul suddenly felt a tsunami of exhaustion roll over her. She suddenly swayed, and Sandeul’s arms shot out to steady her. “Are you all right, Haneul?” he asked anxiously.

“I’m just so tired,” she murmured sleepily, rubbing her eyes in an effort to keep them from drifting closed. She was more tired than she had been in the interrogation, and was in serious danger of falling asleep on the spot. With a gentle smile, Sandeul turned his back to crouch down in front of her, gesturing for her to climb onto his back.

“I’ll give you a piggy-back ride. You can stay with me tonight,” he offered. Haneul drowsily glanced down at her blood-soaked clothes.

“But… Your shirt will get bloody,” she mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sandeul insisted. Too sleepy to argue further, Haneul climbed onto her best friend’s back and slipped her arms around his neck. He easily straightened up, his arms looped under her legs to support her, and he began to long trudge down the sidewalk to his home. Haneul simply rested her cheek against his broad back, the warmth spilling from his body slowly lulling her into further drowsiness.

“Sandeul?” she asked quietly with closed eyes.

“Hmm?” came the simple response.

“Can I stop by my house?” she asked after a period of silence. The boy paused to readjust her position on his back before dutifully continuing the walk.

“Are you sure? The detective said it was fine to get your belongings, but I was going to do that for you. I didn’t think you wanted to see…” he trailed off, unwilling or perhaps unable to describe the brutality that had occurred in her home. It was strange, but Haneul was entirely unafraid to return to the massacre- perhaps she was even eager.

“I want to say good-bye,” she yawned. Sandeul said nothing more, only nodded in a sort of deep understanding, and the two remained in silence until they arrived at the edge of Haneul’s driveway. She slipped off of his back, landing unsteadily as her sneakers made contact with the concrete. The police tape, bright yellow against the darkness of the night, swayed gently in the wind spilling from the beaches. Glass from the car’s broken window glittered with starlight, shining like precious gems against the cold concrete. Footprints trailed across the yard, leaving dirty imprints in the cleanly cut grass. The front door slowly swung back and forth, groaning like a ghost and occasionally slapping against the house siding.

“Are you sure?” Sandeul whispered once more in her ear. Wordlessly, she took a step, and then another and another until her feet had carried her to the front door. She paused, able to see the living room from her current position. The dark red color still stained everything, and pooled where the bodies of her mother and stepfather had lay. The couch cushions had been thrown thoughtlessly to the ground and the rug overturned as the officers had ransacked the place looking for evidence. Haneul’s eyes shifted from the gruesome scene to the dark hallway, and as if on their own her feet moved, carrying her to the room at the end. Her hand reached out to gently push the wooden door aside, revealing a neatly kept bedroom. It was also red, but colored with paint instead of blood, a rich royal red accented by black curtains and pillows on the large bed.

It was her mother’s bedroom.

Haneul hesitated at the door. The room had been untouched, existing in a world apart from the chaos of the rest of the house. Her mother’s vanity was still strewn with various make-up articles, with a photo of Haneul, her mother, and her father tucked into the corner of the mirror. The closet door was slightly ajar, revealing the simple sundresses that her mother loved to wear because they were comfortable during her long hours of sewing at the table in the office. On the nightstand were the latest fashion magazines, sources of inspiration for her mother’s creative mind. The window was open, for her mother enjoyed the ocean breeze at night, and the curtains gently fluttered with an almost ethereal quality. The bed was neatly made, untouched since morning.

Haneul walked over to the bed, running her fingers over to plush comforter. Her mother had made it herself; it was deep red, embroidered with brilliantly detailed black flowers that traced in swirling patterns across the fabric. She suddenly crawled onto the bed, burying her face into the soft fabric and breathing deeply. It smelled of her mother. It smelled like the curry she so enjoyed, like the scent of freshly cleaned fabrics, like springtime and sunlight. Tears darkened the blanket as they streamed down Haneul’s face, as she wept bitterly for the loss of the most precious person in her life. A brilliantly black feather fluttered through the open window, landing just beside Haneul’s hand as she clutched onto the blanket. Sniffling, she reached out to clutch the soft feather in her hand, running her fingers over the fibers.

Baro… she thought abstractly. I can take it all away, his voice echoed in her mind. She clutched the feather tighter, crushing it in a fist.

No. I have to live… For Mom.