When you give someone your heart and they die, do they take that piece of your heart along with them when they go? Do you continue to live on with a gaping hole in your heart knowing that it can never be filled again?

Empty chairs, untouched bookshelves, unused plates, empty fridges.

Do you ever feel so helpless and so useless, when you see everything you’ve ever built up crumble down all around you?

He was a walking tragedy.

He was the sunshine that turned to rain. He was the boy who lived, while they did not. He was the one whose family died in a fire and he was the one whose father ran away.

He was the one who fought. He was the one who survived.

His father did not.

He was the one who was always haunted by the feeling of his own knife connecting with his father’s skin. He was the one who learned to stop feeling and how to stop being human. He was the one who had everything planned so meticulously from the start.

He was the one who never expected his heart to betray him. He was the one who never expected it to hurt so badly.

He was the one who fell in love and lost the one he loved.

He was the one who lived.

It was always him - the last one standing.

Because everything else, everyone else, always ended under the metal wielded in his hands.

“The task is completed.”

“You’re very on time.” The voice that speaks behind the mask is smooth. “Well done. I will pay you shortly.”

“I think you can stop hiding yourself, and stop trying to fake your voice.” The man’s voice drops an octave, taking on a more harsh tone, and he rips off the mask that he wears on his own face. “Here, I’ve removed mine. It’s your turn now.”

The man standing opposite him shakes his head. “Of course I know who you are, Kim Heechul - but you do not know who