chapter two

The interrogation process was surprisingly easy to go through, and Matthew knew that the numb fog occupying his consciousness played a large role in that. It was easier when there were no emotions involved, when it was a simple recollection of facts; it became almost mechanical, a process that could be repeated at will as many times as needed for them to get the facts straight.

Which was necessary at the moment, since the interrogator, a middle-aged man with graying hair, seemed to be very bad at recording facts.

The interrogator took another sip of coffee, set the mug down, and looked back up at Matthew. “With a knife?” he asked, typing quickly on his laptop, the clicks of the keyboard clearly distinguishable with the absence of ambient noise in the room.

“With a knife,” Matthew repeated, keeping his eyes focused on the logo of the laptop. It ran through his mind again—Somin being shoved to the ground, one hand reaching up to touch her head where the man had been pulling her hair, only to be dragged back up and—

“He had hidden it in his back pocket?”

“Maybe, I couldn’t see, but when he brought his hand back to the front he had a knife.”

“I see . . . and there was no escape attempt, once she was in the car?”

Matthew felt the urge to make a fist, but he purposefully relaxed his hands under the table, spreading the fingers wide apart. “He had a knife on her neck the whole time. She couldn’t even try.”

“Surely she—”

“No,” Matthew said, finally looking away from the laptop logo and into the man’s eyes. He enunciated each word slowly. “His arm was held around her neck. A near chokehold, but with a knife to . There was no way.”

The interrogator pursed his lips. “I see.” He quickly finished typing something and closed his laptop. “That’s all the information we need for now, Mr. Kim. Thank you for your time.” With a sharp nod, he picked up his things and left the room.

Matthew remained sitting, though, and soon after the door opened again.

“How are you doing, Mr. Kim?” asked a female voice. Looking up and realizing who it was, Matthew started to stand up. “No, no, sit,” said Director Park Gyuri, the planning director of their investigation team. She took a seat where the interrogator was sitting earlier and clasped her hands on the table.

“Fine, Director Park,” Matthew said, his voice level. There was no use going into the intricacies of that answer, and he certainly was not about to have a heart-to-heart moment with the director.

Director Park looked at Matthew thoughtfully, as if she saw fully through that answer (and Matthew was sure she could). “You’re handling everything all right?”

“Yeah.” Seeing as she was still unconvinced, Matthew took a breath and continued. “It’s . . . it’s hard. But she’ll be fine, we’ll find her soon.”

She nodded, and then cleared . “About that. You see, due to your . . . involvement, as it is, with Somin, we don’t think it’s appropriate that you’re put on this case. In fact—”

“What?” Matthew asked, incredulous. If he wasn’t on the case, who would be? How would he let someone else be in charge of finding Somin? His involvement made him all the more determined—he wouldn’t let any more harm come to her—

By only standing by, watching, like you did while she was taken, right?

Matthew quickly pushed that thought away. “Director Park, I hope you’ll excuse me, but I think it’s only normal that I’d be involved with this case. Because of my involvement wi—”

“Because of your involvement,” Director Park interrupted, “you’ll be less objective in your evaluation of choices, which is a risk we can’t afford—especially when a person’s life is on the line.”

Matthew opened his mouth, about to protest, but the Director shook her head. “I do hope you understand, Mr. Kim, because the decision has already been made.” She stood up, and Matthew realized this was probably why she had come to talk to him—not just to check on his state of mind. “You can also have the next week off, to take your mind off things.”

Leaning back in his chair, Matthew let out a sigh. “That’s not optional, is it?”

“Not really.” Director Park smiled, a hint of pity in her eyes. “Have a good day, Mr. Kim.”

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The throbbing pain in her head slowly made Somin recognize she was awake. She tried to stretch out, not understanding why her alarm didn’t wake her, when she realized that she couldn’t move her hands.

Her eyes snapped open, only to squeeze shut again when she realized that it was too bright—it seemed to be the early morning, and the sun was clearly visible through the window—

The window. Of the car.

Suddenly, the events of the night before rushed back to Somin in harsh flashes.

Walking outside, heading toward the car, and then investigating the noise she heard on the other side—

Seeing someone next to the car, dying—

The man had grabbed her, before she could run—

She threw her purse, wishing he would let her go, praying someone would come—

Matthew did come, but—

There was a bump in the road, and Somin was jolted upward. Her joints ached, and she finally looked down at herself. Her seatbelt was strapped on, and her hands were tied behind her, which explained the soreness in her shoulders and arms. And her head—her head felt like it was on fire, particularly one spot to the side, and Somin could vaguely recall why. Her neck also hurt, though, but she couldn’t even reach up to check what could have been the cause with her hands bound as they were.

A gruff cough next to her made her go still. “Finally up?” She heard him searching around with one hand, and then grumbling something too low for her to hear, he glanced around them on the freeway. Somin looked around too, and realized that it was almost empty but for a few lone cars, and even those were few and far between. He quickly pushed a button near the steering wheel, and then he removed his hands from the steering wheel, opening the storage compartment of the center console.

Somin quickly opened to speak—he wasn’t looking at the road—but was too dry; her voice caught, and she started coughing violently. It didn’t take long for the man to find whatever he was looking for, though, and Somin only saw a flash of metal as he reached over and yanked her closer. She didn’t even have the chance to cry out as he stabbed something into her neck, and after a few seconds her eyelids felt heavier.

Slowly, her vision went black, the pain subsiding.

The next time Somin was conscious, it wasn’t as bright.

She was alone in the car, but her hands were still bound and her seatbelt was still fastened. Now she was also tied to the seat itself with a rope around her middle, so there was no way she could accidentally unbuckle herself. There were shades covering the windows of the car, making the interior even darker. Her head still hurt, and she felt a wave of nausea threaten to overtake her when she moved too quickly.

Somin was about to fall back asleep, the pain in her head too much, when she heard the approaching footsteps. Suddenly, harsh white light flooded the car as the door on her side was opened, and she could make out the outline of the man through her squinted eyes.

“We’re headin’ inside, missy,” he said, laughing ominously, and Somin tried in vain to move away from him. But her limbs felt too heavy, so her movements were too weak and sluggish to be effective. The man easily undid the rope tying her to the seat and then, tightly gripping one arm, forcefully pulled her out of the car.

She cried out then, her whole side too sore and stiff from being in the same position for so long.

“Quit your ing whining,” he said, shoving her a bit harder to emphasize his point. “Or I swear to god I’ll drag you the whole damn way.”

Somin bit her lip hard to keep shut, and she felt the prick of tears behind her eyelids. She looked around in an effort to distract herself—anything to keep the tears at bay. They were in a parking garage, she realized quickly, and he seemed to be taking them toward an elevator to the side. When they stopped to wait for the elevator, she noticed that his facemask was off.

He seemed to be in his early to mid thirties at the most. His face was wide, and he had small, wide-set eyes and a light mustache. When he caught her looking, he smiled—a few teeth were missing. “Like what you see?”

Somin looked away quickly, not wanting to aggravate him or continue that line of discussion. The elevator dinged and opened a moment later.

The man cackled with laughter, and he shoved her none too gently into the elevator. Somin bit her tongue to keep quiet, and turning around, she tightly gripped the handrail along the back wall of the elevator. After the man selected a floor, he turned to face Somin, simultaneously covering the view of the panel with his large frame. The digital display for the floor numbers seemed to be broken, leaving Somin in the dark as to how long this elevator ride would take. “Ah, I hope he lets me keep you for a while, wouldn’t that be fun?”

She resisted the urge to shake her head, but she still shuddered involuntarily. He caught that, and his smile disappeared. “You should be grateful I only want to you, you . Look at that dress.” He continued to say something inaudible, still staring at her, and she looked down at her shoes. Her dress was a black and shiny silver color, and though it was somewhat form fitting, it was long-sleeved and came down past her knees. It felt disgusting now, because Somin couldn’t even remember how long she had been in it; she didn’t even want to think about how she looked.

Thankfully, the elevator came to a stop soon, but there was no automated voice announcing that they had arrived, so there was no way for Somin to know what floor they were on. The man grabbed her by the same shoulder again, and this time Somin was prepared for the pain, already biting down on her lip.

The elevator had opened into a well-lit hallway that resembled that of an apartment complex or hotel building, but without the numerous doors lining the hall. It was so monotonous and she felt so disoriented that she soon lost track of how long they had been walking, focusing mostly on staying upright and not tripping. Some time later—minutes or hours, Somin couldn’t tell—they reached a large set of double doors, and no sooner had they stopped in front of them than the doors were opened. Two large men dressed in dark suits then escorted them to another room, but since Somin was fighting the urge to sleep the whole way, she could barely focus on her surroundings.

At some point, the man roughly shook Somin fully awake, and he gave her a pointed glare before one of the guys in suits opened another door. This time, the two guys stayed outside, and the door was closed behind them.

The man walked forward slowly, his grip leaving Somin. Though she was relieved, she didn’t realize how much she had been relying on him for balance, and she collapsed onto the floor with a short gasp. She struggled to push herself up into a sitting position, but she couldn’t move from her side.

“Sir, I brought her, as you requested.” Somin looked up and saw that he had almost reached the desk that was the main feature of the room. Someone was sitting at the desk, but her view was blocked by the man’s large frame.

“A girl?” The voice was sharp, cutting through the otherwise silent room. “You said you brought something of value.”

“I-I thought she’d be important,” he replied, but his voice had gotten smaller. Somin tried to move to the side, to see who was sitting at the desk, but her bound hands were not helpful.

“What use would I have for that?” came the reply; it was laced with disgust, and Somin felt a chill go through her. What would become of her if she were useless . . . ?

“S-sir, I never—I thought—I couldn’t leave her there, the boy seemed to be an officer—”

“What?” There was the sound of a chair sliding backward—the person must’ve stood up.

“Yeah, the guy, he had that look, so I thought it was better to take ‘er . . . and she’d seen me, she’d seen the hit, so I couldn’t let ‘er go.”

Somin was still on her side, and her eyes had closed with the effort it was taking to sit up. She slowly opened her eyes when she heard the sound of footsteps, and she saw the glossy black dress shoes approaching. She was reluctant to look up, but she didn’t have to—the person crouched down next to her and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him.

He was really young—that was the first thought that popped into Somin’s head. A few years older than her, most likely, but definitely still in his twenties. He had straight black hair that almost reached his eyes—his eyes, which were staring at her, his gaze piercing. He shifted her chin to the side, observing her, and then let go. He remained in his crouching position.

“Who was the guy?” he asked, and it took Somin a second to comprehend that the question was directed to her.

“W-what?” Her voice was croaky, too dry.

He sighed, and when he spoke there was a hint of impatience in his voice. “The guy, who was the guy that saw you being taken?” When Somin took too long, he grabbed her by the chin again. “His name, dammit!”

“Matthew,” she choked out, her heart hammering in her chest. “M-Matthew, his name is Matthew.” She didn’t know how he understood her, what with her hoarse voice, but he pulled back and stood up, thinking.

“Matthew . . .” he repeated, mostly to himself. “Matthew Kim, by any chance?”

Somin’s eyes widened, and that seemed to be confirmation enough for him.

“I see . . . good job, Lee.” He turned to look at the man, who wore a satisfied smile on his face. “You’re dismissed. Leave the girl.”

The man frowned slightly. “But . . . sir, do I get a reward?” There was a pause, and then he continued, “For bringing the girl. It seems like she’s valuable, right . . . ?”

The younger man nodded slowly. “Yes, you do deserve a reward, don’t you?”

And then there was a loud bang. Somin's ears were left ringing after the sound, and she felt more than heard the thud of something falling to the ground.

The man had fallen to the ground, and she could begin to make out a dark red puddle forming around his head.

Her hearing was fuzzy, the ringing still loud in her ears, but she vaguely heard the chuckle from behind the desk.

so, what do you guys think? also, i might have to change the rating soon ...