CHAPTER I

 

— Summer, 19898

 

“And this toast is to our Chanyeollie, in honor of his new home and his new life away from Seoul!” The host's best friends saluted, eliciting applause from the guests at the small welcoming reception. 

 

Chanyeol, the host, chuckled between sips of beer with the bottle tipped to his lips, watching with joy as all his friends and family members celebrate with him his latest achievement—he has finally mustered up enough courage to leave Seoul, to end the disastrous relationship with his boyfriend and with the little money he had from his job as a music teacher rent an apartment in another town.

 

It was a chance to start over, a new place where he could start a completely different life, maybe even meet other people.

 

It had been an impulsive and ambitious plan when he decided to leave. Initially, when Chanyeol thought of his students, of stable life in the capital despite his unhappiness and the boyfriend who treated him so badly, he wanted to give up on the idea, fearing his own recklessness. 

 

However, before he could completely erase the plan from his mind, his friends encouraged him and even helped him during the search for a new apartment, with moving and looking for a new job. The same friends who were now there with him, who had taken a car trip of more than three hours just to celebrate with him that things had gone right, so that Chanyeol wouldn't be alone on his first night in a new town. 

 

He couldn't be more grateful.

 

"This apartment is great, Chanyeol." On tilting his head, the music teacher found one of his friends talking to him. Holding a glass full of the champagne he had brought to the apartment, Jongin, one of Chanyeol's best friends, was smiling proudly. "I'm glad I helped you choose, that other option of yours was terrible." he grimaced, frowning as he remembered the moss-green-walled apartment that had caught his best friend's attention. 

 

"You're just praising because this was the apartment you liked!" Chanyeol responded, bending over the couch to reach the other end, where Jongin was hugging his girlfriend, and punch him in the arm. 

 

It didn't hurt, especially since Chanyeol was already a little drunk and unable to apply much force to what he was trying to do, but Jongin, playing along, let out a whimper from his lips that made the others laugh.

 

Even though Jongin's chosen apartment was beautiful, with the walls covered in striped wallpaper in shades of gray and white and the well-kept furniture that came with the rent, it was still small for the absurd amount of guests in the small room party they had organized.

 

Aside from the living room and kitchen, which were separated by a small counter, there were only two other rooms in the house—a tiny bathroom and the bedroom where all the suitcases and boxes of things to unpack were kept. People were sitting on the floor, squashed on the sofa or against the windows so everyone could fit. They were all very close to each other, practically glued together, but despite the discomfort, no one seemed unhappy or wanted to leave. 

 

"My congratulations, son." Chanyeol's father approached during the small exchange of punches initiated between his son and Jongin. 

 

Feeling her father's gentle touch on his back, Chanyeol stopped and turned around, thanking him with a tight-lipped smile. He opened his mouth, about to answer it, when the loud, dry thump of thumping against the door interrupted him.

 

Whoever was outside was knocking hard enough to scare all the guests inside the apartment. The door trembled, moving with the force and steady rhythm of the punches being thrown against the wood.

 

"Chanyeol?" Jongin called behind him, getting up from the couch just as Chanyeol was also on his feet towards the door. 

 

Brow furrowed, Chanyeol dropped his gaze to the door, which, with the increasingly insistent knocking, began to move, crawling over the jamb in the floor, as if whoever had been wanting it to open was also pushing it. It was frightening, and it was making the guests worried. 

 

"Open the door!" slurred words rang out from under the door, seeping through the cracks in the wooden structure. The desperate tone was more like someone looking for help than someone intending to break in the door, it was what put the music teacher on alert, tempted to put his hand on the door handle and let them find whoever was wanting to open it.

 

But, before he could even raise his hand, he was stopped by Jongin who grabbed him by the wrist and stared at him with brows drawn together in a serious expression. He was scared. Chanyeol had never seen him like that.

 

"What's it?" he asked, sketching what should have been a reassuring smile, but it only served to make Jongin more serious.

 

"Don't open the door, you don't even know who's outside." his best friend replied, his words lost in the silence that filled the room. The previously raucous party had fallen into a tense quiet, occasionally pierced by the echoes of a fist-pounding wood and a voice creeping under the door asking for it to be opened. 

 

Ignoring any possibility that it might be something unwanted, the taller just shrugged.

 

"Must be a neighbor," said him, raising his hand again before being restrained by his best friend again. Eyes bulging, the music teacher glared at the other. "Jongin!" he scolded him "What are you doing?"

 

In the background, it was possible to see that the beats were decreasing.

 

"What are you doing?" Jongin returned the question, "Chanyeol, they look like they want to break your door, how can you be so calm?"

 

"I need to know what's going on before I try to do anything." was Chanyeol's reply, he shook his head and continued in a whisper: “Whoever's out there must already know that we've heard, and it's a female voice, maybe it's a woman asking for help. We are in the majority, and we are young and strong, maybe she needs us and we are hesitating out of fear.”

 

“Chanyeol, I don't think that's the case…”

 

“Jongin, come on, let go of my hand, let me answer the door.” Stopping, the music teacher looked around, finding the tense expressions of his friends and family, quite different from how they were a few minutes ago when everyone was drinking and celebrating together. Sighing, Chanyeol turned to his best friend again and said, "You're scaring others."

 

Mirroring the sigh that Chanyeol let out, Jongin took a deep breath, and after a few seconds where they didn't speak to each other when the banging outside was fading, he finally let go of the taller's wrist and held up both hands, pulling away by taking a step back.

 

"Thanks." Chanyeol thanked him, turning to the door handle. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his best friend reach for a lamp and hold it like a weapon, bracing himself like a baseball player ready to hit the ball.

 

As he took another step towards the door, the music teacher silently wished Jongin at least had the decency to take the bulb off the lamp if he intended to hit someone with it.

 

As he touched his fingers to the cold metal of the door handle, the door no longer trembled, the fists that had met the wood seeming to have weakened. There was almost no more bang or noise as Chanyeol held his breath, and closing his eyes turned the latch, pulling the door back, opening it.

 

To find an elderly woman.

 

The woman was standing with her fists raised as if she was about to hit again when she was interrupted. She looked surprised, her wrinkled eyes bulging, the thin lips evenly parted. Looking down at the old woman's clenched fists, Chanyeol noticed the reddened skin of her fingers, as well as her hand, was full of bruises by the force she was using to knock.

 

She wasn't holding any object that might look like a weapon or threat, to tell the truth, with her small, stooped body wrapped in woolen coats, the old lady could have looked anything but menacing. 

 

Bowing toward her, Chanyeol felt sorry for her, barely noticing Jongin's whispered warning.

 

"You were knocking so hard, do you need help?" he asked, receiving the old woman's nods in response.

 

“I lost my figurines…” she said, putting her hands together, massaging them, needing something to touch where she would take out her frustration. "I lost my figurines," she repeated as if Chanyeol hadn't heard the first time.

 

Confused, the music teacher raised an eyebrow.

 

“Your… figurines?”

 

Once again, the old lady's response was simple affirmations, nodding her head.

 

"You live here?" she asked Chanyeol.

 

"Yes, I just moved today," he replied, smiling at the old woman. "We were celebrating my move when you started knocking on the door."

 

The new information seemed to surprise the elderly woman, who looked around, only then paying attention to the number and the floor they were on. She took a few confused steps back and looked at the numbers printed on the apartment door, nodding shortly thereafter, mumbling something Chanyeol was unable to comprehend, but which sounded a lot like "I understand..." and "That explains a lot."

 

"I'm looking for my nutcrackers." She went back to explaining, “I also live in this building, downstairs, and I have two grandchildren who like to play with the decorations I have at home. They always take my nutcrackers and take them to the empty apartments to play for hours, but they don't return them when the games are over and I have to go looking for them.”

 

"They're always messing around." the neighbor snapped, grabbing the warm fabric of her clothes. She seemed to be hugging herself as if she felt cold despite the warmth of that night. “If you find one of my nutcrackers could you give it back to me? They're that high…” and, to illustrate, Chanyeol watched the old woman separate her two hands leaving a space wide enough to fit a soccer ball, “And they wear red uniforms, a black wooden helmet and a bayonet that has a blade at the tip that is used to open the caps of bottles.”

 

"I will return it if I find it, no need to worry about it."

 

"Thank you," she replied, lifting the corner of her lips. Smiling, the lady placed a hand on her chest, holding it as if she wanted to wrap her own heart between her weak fingers. "You don't know how relieved it makes me," she said with a sinister sigh that chilled Jongin's bones. He shivered, and almost lost the lamp.

 

It was weird, but by far the least weird thing since that old lady pulled up in front of the apartment.

 

“I've been looking the night along for it, knocking door to door through all the apartments, yours was the last one, I almost had no more hope. My name is Arin, Jung Arin, as soon as you find some nutcrackers, put them in a bag and take them to my apartment. Please don't play with them and don't be with them! You need to give it back to me, understand?”

 

And even not knowing what reason he might have to keep wooden figurines in his apartment, Chanyeol nodded once more.

 

"I understand, Ms. Jung, if I happen to find any nutcrackers I will put them in a bag and take them to your apartment."

 

“That's right, and you can't play with them, do you hear me? Don't play with them or play with them and don't do what they ask.”

 

"I assure you that I have no interest in toys, so your nutcrackers will be safe. If I find any of them, I won't play."

 

"That's right," she said. Then there was a pause when Ms. Jung decided to make peace but didn't move away. Chanyeol watched her tilt her face and stare, for the second time, at the embossed numbers printed on the apartment door. "Thank you so much for your kindness, Chanyeol." the neighbor suddenly spoke again, greeting him with one last wave as she said goodbye. "If someday you're ever looking for something lost, I'll return that favor."

 

So, before he could say goodbye, the old lady turned and while limping with crooked steps, simply walked away. 

 

Just then Jongin poked his head out of the apartment, watching her shadow blend in with the darkness of the hallways until she disappeared, swallowed up by the lack of light. 

 

Following his best friend's gaze, Chanyeol watched the old woman walk away with shaky steps, limping, holding the walls for support. When she left and Jongin closed the door, reassuring the other party guests that everything was fine and it had only been the neighbor looking for some decorations, Chanyeol found himself unable to undo a pensive face, intrigued by the last words of her, which were embedded in his mind as if on fire.

 

When saying goodbye, the old woman had called him by his name. 

 

But Chanyeol was sure he hadn't introduced himself. 

 

 

✧

 

The celebration finished a few more hours after Lady Jung left. They drank some more, sang, danced pathetically, and shared some memories of when they were young until everyone needed to leave.

 

The farewell, as Chanyeol might have guessed, tasted bittersweet. He was never a person who liked to be alone and used to always be accompanied by one or two people throughout his life, it was inevitable that a new and slightly uncomfortable feeling hit him even though he was grateful and happy for all the consideration that he had received from his friends and family. 

 

He smiled at each of the familiar faces that hugged him before walking away. Jongin was the last to leave after helping Chanyeol sort the garbage bags, he and his girlfriend hugged the music teacher carefully as if they knew what he was feeling, and only then did they leave too.

 

Closing the door and knowing that for the first time that there would be no one else besides him in the house was strange.

 

Chanyeol tried to smile to himself as he picked up the bags filled with disposable cups and pizza wrappers, wrapping his fingers in the plastic material. He looked up and even tried to hum some song he had taught the old students as he carried the bags to the garbage can in the kitchen. 

 

"It's better this way." He was trying to convince himself.

 

It's better to be alone starting something new than to continue living the way he was leading, allowing yourself to be abused, used, and constantly humiliated. Chanyeol needed independence, he needed distance from those who were doing him harm. He recognized that, but then why did victory seem to taste so strange to him now? 

 

He was very scared of what was coming next. 

 

Biting his lip, compressing an urge to cry, an anxious dread of what would become of his life now that he had finally worked up the courage to change, the taller opened the trash can. He was about to throw the bags away when he heard a dry noise that made him stop. 

 

It was as if something had been thrown against the wall, making a sound like a ball bouncing on the floor or a light-handed person knocking on the door.

 

However, Chanyeol was pretty sure that no one was knocking on the door. His friends had just left and he hadn't seen anyone approaching in the hallway. Also, the music teacher could make sure he had heard the noise in the kitchen, he had very good ears and knew he wasn't hearing wrong. 

 

Then he fell quiet, allowing the brief seconds to be enveloped by a tortuous silence to ensue. 

 

Until he heard it again. 

 

Two timed beats, rhythmically perfect as the ticking of a clock. Two knocks on the door, like an impatient neighbor waiting across the hall. But he knew nothing was happening in the hallway outside.

 

He stopped, thoughtful. Then, he heard the noise echo through the apartment once more, allowing him this time to be able to recognize which direction the rustling was coming from.

 

As if reacting to Chanyeol's discovery, congratulating him on his insight, other louder beats came out from the void.

 

He noticed that the sound was coming from one of the walls.

 

His brow creased before the taller could contain his curiosity and, abandoning the garbage bags, walked slowly towards the wall from which the strange banging was coming. 

 

This was terribly strange. Chanyeol knew that the walls were too thin to allow small animals to transit freely through; the construction was made entirely of concrete, bricks, and metal beams. In the same way, the pipes passed by the ceiling and across the walls of the living room, not the wall of the kitchen, where the knocks were coming from. 

 

Further, there couldn't be anyone knocking on the other side of the wall. Chanyeol's apartment was the last on the floor, beside that wall there was nothing, not even the emergency stairs were installed there. 

 

Intrigued, the music teacher could not control his feet. He approached the walls, pausing when the knocking stopped echoing. 

 

There was stillness again.

 

Still curious, Chanyeol took a step back, intending to go back to where he'd left the garbage bags when a sound other than banging on the walls ripped through the noiseless apartment. 

 

A crack sounded under the sole of the taller's slippers, he felt something sharp go through the material of the shoe and pierce his skin. It hurt and he let out a pained grunt as he felt the wound.  

 

Feeling pain he instinctively lifted his foot, kicking the object that had hurt him. With the action, the crack of something being crushed got louder, as if several pieces of a sculpture were breaking apart. There was a snap of wood, and when Chanyeol took off his slipper to find what had cut the sole of his foot, he found a small blade stuck. It looked like a small knife that had been ripped from the handle with some splinters of wood still stuck to the side that wasn't caught in the slippers.

 

Eyebrows still drawn together, Chanyeol looked at what was left of the wooden body that had detached itself from the blade. 

 

He froze, feeling his body stiffen as he recognized the broken pieces of a black hat and red uniform, as well as the golden buttons that scattered across the floor.

 

It was a nutcracker, and the music teacher knew who that toy belonged to.

 

"." he cursed, his hands immediately going to his hair, pulling. "," he repeated, incredulous at his own foolishness. 

 

He couldn't believe it. 

 

This nutcracker was definitely one of Lady Jung's toys. The description matched what was left of the nutcracker. It was a precious artifact, and Chanyeol stepped on it. He had crushed and then kicked the figurine's wooden body which had inevitably lost his weapon and a piece of his head.

 

The taller whimpered, forgetting even the strange thuds he had been listening to, which took him to that side of the kitchen. 

 

Shaking his head in denial, he bent down, carefully picking up each piece and splinter of wood from the neighbor's figurine. The nutcracker was dismantled, but he knew he could fix it. Glue wouldn't solve the problem, but he could still look for a toy repairman. Maybe buying a new nutcracker could be offensive, although it seemed like a good alternative, so Chanyeol didn't want to risk it.

 

Holding the pieces like a wounded animal, he stood up again. His quickened breathing matched the rhythm of the light taps that came back through the wall.

 

This time it resonated faster as if whoever knocked was bothered by something. 

 

Chanyeol didn't know what to do, fearing that he would give in to his curiosity again and break something else.

 

He almost didn't want to go on, almost didn't want to give in to his impulsiveness when his eyes found what looked like a small door on the wall near the floor. 

 

It was scary how he'd never noticed that door on any of his previous visits to the apartment or when he'd hauled away what little furniture he had to welcome guests to his welcoming party. He should have noticed it before, there was no sense in him not having seen it. 

 

It was a miniature door, big enough for a dog to walk through. A detail that also sharpened Chanyeol's curiosity, who couldn't help but approach again, still holding the pieces of the figurine in his big hands. 

 

There was nothing on the other side of the wall, so why would an apartment like this, in a building that didn't even allow pets, have a door for dogs to pass in such a strange place? 

 

He shouldn't have moved closer, but he did, limping every time his injured foot hit the ground. Lips pressed together, Chanyeol staggered until he was in front of the door. He bent over, ascertaining its height and width, wondering why something like that was needed in his apartment when his eyes fell on the oddly shaped lock. 

 

The door didn't have a handle, but it had a lock that certainly a key could be pushed through. The shape of the lock was similar to a lightning bolt, just as the nutcracker's blade had when viewed from top to bottom.

 

Chanyeol shouldn't have done what he did next. But he was tired of being a scared man, tired of feeling like a coward for the hesitation he felt whenever he needed to make a really important decision. Even though he was used to small adventures like last-minute trips and daring new hobbies, he was still afraid of big changes like breaking up a relationship that had lasted years, quitting a job, and moving to a new town.

 

He was still very fearful, even though his decision had already been made. But he was afraid to regret it. Chanyeol feared that something would go wrong on this new journey, he feared that bad things would happen again, he feared he would not get a new job in this new town, he feared being alone and he feared that the words shouted by his ex-boyfriend would turn to be true— that no one would want him because he was a good-for-nothing who would crawl back to Seoul when he came to his senses.

 

Chanyeol didn't want to be that person. He wanted to be brave, the one who made good and firm decisions.

 

He stared at the blade stuck in his slipper as if it were his winning ticket to something new. And maybe it was. 

 

Feeling anxious made him sweat, but with anticipation, Chanyeol reached for the slipper that was lying on the floor, yanking the blade from where it was stuck. And, without thinking too much about what he was doing, he the blade into the lock on the door. 

 

There was a click, rusty iron creaking inside the lock, followed by the latches moving. 

 

And then the door opened with a loud snap, pushed hard enough that it bounced against the wall. From inside, a hand emerged, crawling quickly across the floor until it managed to catch Chanyeol's leg.

 

It was faster than Chanyeol could register. He felt the icy hand touching his skin before he even had time to see the hand walk out the mysterious door. He wanted to scream but couldn't, too horrified by what was happening to be able to react. 

 

As he got immersed into darkness, Chanyeol could feel slight dizziness. The last thing he saw before the door closed before his eyes, separating him from his new life, were the light bulbs on the ceiling. Somehow, he'd shrunk enough that his shoulders and long arms didn't hurt when he'd slipped in through the door.

 

He also barely felt when the door closed and the light went out before his eyes.

 

The cold hand, as suddenly as it appeared, disappeared, leaving him. 

 

For a few seconds, Chanyeol felt nothing, like he was caught between a dream and a nightmare. 

 

For a brief moment, it felt as if he were floating in emptiness.

 

Until he started to fall. 

 

Chanyeol felt as if there was something weighing on his back, pushing him with greater speed towards the ground. Despite the darkness, he could make out a distinct purple glow that radiated as he fell through the hole.

 

The music teacher screamed and kicked, trying to protect himself from his fall even though it was too dark for him to know when he would hit the ground. There was no indication of an end just as there was no indication of a beginning either — he was just falling with no sign that he could ever stop.

 

Chanyeol was afraid for his life, his face was cold, damp with tears he hadn't noticed he'd let go when abruptly his descent began to slow down.

 

His body, which was in total inertia, descending like a projectile when a gun was fired, slowly returned to float. He levitated like a feather until he gently landed on the ground, finding the end of the hole, where another small door awaited him.

 

"What the hell is that?" he muttered the only words he could come up with after the experience he had just gone through. 

 

Unlike the entrance he had passed through, the door at the end of the hole was lightened. The tunnel walls were brighter in this part than at the beginning, which allowed the taller to lift his face and stare all the way down where he had fallen. 

 

He still couldn't find the beginning, which only showed how high his fall had been, but he could clearly see the walls that looked a lot like an animal's lair.

 

Terrified, Chanyeol found himself stuck in an impasse. He shuddered at the thought of what would happen if he decided to go through the door, but he didn't want to be in the tunnel either. The burrow he'd fallen into was narrow, and besides, he hadn't forgotten the icy hand that had pulled him back. The hand was alone as if it had a life of its own after it had been severed, but if there was a missing limb, there was certainly also a body to which it belonged.

 

And Chanyeol feared finding the rest of the body. 

 

Long minutes dragged by as he tried to decide what to do. 

 

It was hard to figure out what would be less risky. He had been reckless before, and it was so, wanting to alleviate his curiosity, that he was eventually dragged into the beginning of this nightmare, and he feared that his next impulsive decision might lead to an even more frightening path.

 

He wanted to run away, but looking at the hole above his head, climbing back to the top seemed impossible. It was very high and far away, and judging by how more careful his landing had been than his fall, there was probably something influencing the gravity in that space.

 

Which brought him to the second option. 

 

Maybe he was trapped in a dream, a very realistic dream that bordered on the precipice of nightmares, but it was still a dream. That would justify the bizarre events in sequence.

 

On the other side of the door, there was music playing and someone was humming in a pleasant tone. The slightly familiar melody caught the attention of the music teacher who, after facing the tunnel one last time looking for the entrance he couldn't find, dared to open the second door.

 

The door was eerily similar to the entrance through which he had been pulled, except that this one had no locks and the handle, as well as the hinges, were installed on the opposite side as if this door were the mirror reflection of the identical version that had been there in his apartment. They could fit together if placed side by side, Chanyeol felt an uncomfortable shiver cover his skin when he noticed such a detail. 

 

Trembling, he crouched down, still hesitant as to what to do. However, returning home was still impossible and the door seems to be the only potential way.

 

Biting his lip, Chanyeol closed his eyes and as he lifted his hands, he pressed his palm against the cool wood, pushing it gently. 

 

There was a faint creaking that echoed through the room as the door moved but was only heard by the taller. The music that was being hummed became louder, a singer's voice escaping through speakers accompanied the sequences of musical murmurs, it sounded like a radio was on and luckily the music had drowned out the perception that someone had opened the small door.

 

Still crouched, Chanyeol just stuck his head out, peering out into the tunnel like a child would. He looked both ways, and what he saw made him catch his breath. 

 

It was like he was back at the entrance to the tunnel, back in a better version of the apartment itself.

 

It was the same furniture but new as if it had just been bought. The floors and walls were clean, looking like they'd been newly renovated, luxuriously decorated with bookshelves, picture frames, and a clock that Chanyeol never had.

 

Fortunately, there was no sign of an amputated hand either.

 

Recognizing that this apartment was an equal version of the apartment itself, the taller, who had not yet emerged from his hiding place inside the tunnel, dared to look toward what would be the kitchen. This was where the music Chanyeol was listening to came from, and judging by the lit lamp and the constant crackle of cutlery clattering against wooden artifacts, it was easy to guess that the possible resident of the apartment was cooking.

 

"Am I dreaming?" Chanyeol muttered, still incredulous. His voice was low, not much louder than a whisper, but the apartment owner seemed to have very good ears to recognize tones of voices. He didn't hear the uncomfortable creak of the door as it opened—or, if he did, he deliberately ignored it—but he straightened up as if he'd taken an electrical charge in his hands as he heard the deep tone of voice of a new presence in his home.

 

The stranger turned, stopping what he was doing, looking for Chanyeol with his eyes. At the same moment, terrified of being caught, the taller took two steps back in a crouch and fell to the ground.

 

He couldn't see the stranger's face, but amid the cloud of horror that terrified him, distinguishing the countenance of the individual who lived in this alternate reality from what could only have been his nightmare was not the music teacher's wish.

 

He wanted to leave. He really wanted to leave. 

 

Soon, above the musical notes still playing on the radio, Chanyeol could hear the loud echo of footsteps clattering over the floor. The stride was regular, but it grew louder as its owner approached.

 

Struggling to hear above the voices of singers and musical instruments, Chanyeol listened to the footsteps stop in front of the small door that served as a barrier between the copy of his apartment and his hiding.

 

He had closed it before when he went back inside the tunnel as he realized that someone had noticed his presence. 

 

But, this door, which was the lockless version of the identical one he had at home, could easily be opened if the stranger on the other side tried to push it. 

 

Before the stranger could try to open it, Chanyeol slammed against the doorknob, gripping it tightly, pushing against it, to prevent the door from being opened. He didn't know what was on the other side, but he was sure it was a man. And if he'd ever been scared with just one hand, it's no exaggeration to say that Chanyeol was terrified of what might be inside the apartment.

 

“We were waiting for you,” said the stranger. His voice was pleasant, sounded as good when uttering words as he did with melodies. "Please don't make us wait, I was preparing a meal to welcome you."

 

Suspicious, and not in the mood for dialogue, Chanyeol refused to respond. Instead, he tried to use more force against the door, practically lying down on the wooden surface, using his feet for support to steady himself on the ground. His hands were firm on the tiny metal knob that seemed ready to snap under his touch as it was pulled back and forth through the hole in the door.

 

"Please don't be afraid!" The stranger spoke again. "I'm here to help you, you're the one who called me!" He tried, but Chanyeol quickly ignored him, not taking what he said seriously. The creature waiting on the other side could make up all sorts of stories to deceive him, but he was determined not to give in. 

 

On both sides there was resistance and stubbornness, pushing and pulling until the wooden surface began to sound as if it were cracking, the crackle of wood shattering, horrifying the music teacher. With that, his pressure against the door eased, causing him to topple forward as whoever was inside the apartment used all their strength one last time. Chanyeol stumbled, falling forward, but before the other person could open the door at once and haul him away, the noise of running footsteps and barking appeared, overriding even the music that escaped from the kitchen.

 

The sequence of yelps and howls caused the unknown figure to back away almost in despair, rising to follow the animals that invaded the apartment.

 

"No, this is not for you!" He looked like he was talking to a pet. "You are a bad boy! How did you get that piece of steak?” The last sentence had been said in a low voice as if the stranger was questioning himself and not the dog.  In either case, the conversation would be awkward.

 

Motionless, Chanyeol heard growls and grunts, as if the dog was unhappy with the other's rebuke and was trying to establish a dialogue. But the music teacher's would-be stalker was resolute, and he persisted in lamenting the lost food as he quarreled with the dog.

 

Until that moment, Chanyeol imagined that few things could impress him that night. Yet, contradicting his own common sense, he was tempted to spy on what was going on inside the apartment.

 

Coming out of his defensive stance, the music teacher dared to get up and slowly walked back to the opening, where he once again dared to just stick his head out.

 

There, he found a scene that looked strangely familiar. The apartment owner had his back to Chanyeol, kneeling in front of an animal that from his point of view looked like an ordinary dog. Likewise, the mysterious figure didn't look so strange now that Chanyeol was watching more closely.

 

He hadn't dared to face him, and given all the things that had happened until he'd found the small door that led to his identical apartment, Chanyeol supposed the owner must be such a gruesome creature or even worse than the amputated hand that had dragged him into the tunnel.

 

Yet, he wasn't even scary. The figure, which was similar to a man, looked like Chanyeol himself. 

 

But, just to clear up his own doubts, the taller offered to count every part of the body that it was possible to see through the clothes and the dim lighting in the living room.

 

There were a pair of legs, a pair of ears that escaped through the strands of long, dark hair, and two arms that kept moving as they struggled strongly against the jaw of a dog that stubbornly refused to let go of a half-raw piece of meat.

 

"Toben!" the other man said "Look how bad you are behaving, we have a visitor today!"

 

The care in subtly letting him know he knew they were being watched should have been an invitation for the taller to reveal himself, but Chanyeol was too intrigued to be able to say anything, his brows furrowed deeply as he brooded on the dog's name. Toben. His dog, the one he'd stopped raising and who now stayed only at his parents' house because his ex-boyfriend hated the adorable animal, had the same name.

 

It was too odd to be mere coincidences. He had noticed the similarity between the apartments and now even the dog that had accompanied Chanyeol through childhood and adolescence. He didn't know what kind of nightmare he was living in, but he wanted to wake up.

 

His subconscious was being cruel, was the conclusion he came to. It was the only possible justification for the terrifying night he was having. 

 

Even though he couldn't remember when he first fell asleep, it was easy and it looked logical to assume that maybe it happened shortly after Jongin