Kim Mingyu didn't wake up to the usual alarm today. Instead of the soft ringing of his roommate's phone, the loud, unexpected sound of a doorbell ripped him out of his slumber.

He flailed, scared out of his wits, and tried to get up as quickly as possible - but for some reason, his bed had gotten much narrower and the hand that was supposed to support his body on the mattress only met air. With a yelp, Mingyu flailed even more before he landed on the floor in a heap, all air driven out of his lungs. Fortunately, a soft carpet had cushioned his fall.

Wait, what?

He was 100% certain that his dorm only had worn wooden flooring without even a hint of carpet.

Mingyu blinked. Then he squinted. Then he blinked some more. Although his vision was still a little blurry, the room he was in didn't change. And it certainly wasn't the old dorm room he had been sharing for almost two months.

Everything was held in shades of white and grey, and looked sleek and modern - but despite the expensive furniture, the room itself was completely devoid of any personal items.

No pictures. No plants. Not even a single book in sight.

One of his legs was still resting on the cushions of the white leather sofa he had been sleeping on while the rest of his body was sprawled on a light grey carpet, next to a coffee table made of glass and steel.

After he had stared for a moment, Mingyu sat up and gingerly rubbed his sore shoulder. Even the clothes he was wearing, blue sweatpants and a tight, black tank top, definitely didn't belong to him. Formfitting clothes were not something he owned.

His confusion slowly but surely turned into something akin to fear as he struggled to figure out what was going on.

He remembered going to bed, just like always, after working some more on his project. He also remembered that Vernon had asked him if he wanted to watch a movie together on his laptop and that he had hastily declined; never, not in a thousand years, would he ever agree to an offer as dangerous as that. Furthermore, they weren't even that close and his project was due in a few days anyway.

But how had he ended up in this unfamiliar flat, dressed in unfamiliar clothes? Had he gotten drunk? Drugged? Kidnapped?

And where was Vernon?

His musings got cut short by the sound of keys somewhere outside the room and he hastily scrambled to get up, eyes fixed on the door next to the large TV. Anxiety made him clench his fists.

Maybe his roommate had returned and could shed some light on what was going on? Maybe all of this was some sort of elaborate prank?

"Vernon?" he called out tentatively but he immediately froze at the sound of his voice. Something was seriously wrong with his throat. His voice had sounded deeper than usual and oddly unfamiliar. A shiver ran down his spine.

Wide-eyed, he was holding onto his throat when the door to the living room finally opened and an elderly woman entered. Although wrinkles were carved deep into her skin and her hair had already turned silver-grey, her beady eyes were sparkling, her gaze clear when it landed on him. A red apron was wrapped around her waist, hiding her clothes.

She was a complete and utter stranger to Mingyu. His heart sank.

For a moment, they stared at each other until a polite smile stretched her thin lips and she bowed, her hands daintily crossed in front of her belly. A wispy voice reached him: "Apologies for the sudden intrusion, young master; I wasn't aware that you were still here. Please don't mind my presence; I will prepare lunch now."

With those words, she turned and closed the door behind herself while Mingyu remained rooted to the spot in baffled silence.

Say what? Young master?

And despite her initial surprise, how come she hadn't seemed even the least bit worried about the random stranger in her flat? Wasn't that a little too careless? He could have been a burglar for all she knew!

He quizzically stared after her before he sighed and shook his head. Weird.

Looking around once more, his sight still more fuzzy than he was used to, his eyes fell on the glass door of the balcony. Or, to be more precise, on his reflection in the glass door of the balcony.

Even with his currently less than stellar eyesight, it was clear that something wasn't right. His hands flew to his face, feeling around.

Had his nose always been that pointy? Why was his hair so fluffy? And now that he thought about it - why wasn't it poking his eyes, the way it usually did?

The ominous feeling that had accompanied him since he had woken up intensified all of a sudden.

It took him four large strides to round the coffee table and reach the door. A hallway with four more doors greeted him, just as white, just as impersonal as the living room he had just left behind. Only a wardrobe and a tall mirror lined the otherwise empty walls - but that mirror was everything Mingyu needed right now.

He sprinted towards it, bumping into the corner of the doorframe and stumbling over his ow