Warning: This chapter contains a rather morbid scene, so please read this chapter at your own discretion~ 

Yongguk’s steps faltered as alcohol began to seep into his brain. The faintly lit doorstep indicated to him that he was home. It was too late for the butlers and the maids to be out, he knew no one would greet him. He fumbled for the house keys, his fingers digging into the soft fabric of his pants until they hit the cold and sharp edges of the rusty keys. The night air was beginning to creep into his collar, making him jump slightly as he searched for the keyhole. He ran his soft pads over the door, feeling for a dip.

The door unlocked with ease and he stumbled inside, his body swaying slightly as he regained his balance. Yongguk’s heavy footsteps echoed against the cold marble floor and he made his way towards the large staircase in the middle of the mansion. Without the maids and butlers, the house seemed horribly empty. Yongguk wanted to scream; to listen to his shouts bounce off of every inanimate piece of furniture and come rushing back to his ears in a dead silence.  The living room glowed softly beyond the foyer where Yongguk was standing. His eyes were drawn by it, like a bug to the light. The soft crackling of the hearth filled his ears and lulled him softly.

He carried himself, almost in a dream-like state, to the living room. He removed his jacket and set it on the large blue divan that marked the entrance to the living room where the fire awaited him. His heart pumped slowly as he breached the door-less entrance; his eyes froze at the sight of his wife.

Jieun stood, back to the fire, her head was slightly tilted down and her eyes glowed with hatred. Her pink lips were twisted in a snarl and her eyebrows furrowed angrily above her eyes. Her skin was grey and her hair looked like it was on fire. The brown flyaways captured the light of the flames behind her, creating the frightening illusion. Her eyes stared Yongguk down, not letting go of his own. She refused to blink, letting her red-rimmed gaze follow his every movement.

Yongguk’s eyes traced Jieun’s thin body. He could see her skinny silhouette under the backlight of the fire, beneath her stark white nightgown. As he continued his inspection, he noticed her hands tightly gripping sheets of paper. They were crinkled under her bony fingers, the black letters on them smudged. At her feet sat dozens more, combined with bloody handkerchiefs, that littered the dark brown floor in a flurry of white, black, and red. Yongguk’s breath hitched in his throat when he realized that these were the letters from Himchan that he had received. His mouth opened slightly as he tried to breathe in more air, his eyes slowly rejoining hers. But she was long gone. Her eyes were filled with rage, to the brink of no return. Yongguk watched as her body shook angrily, raising a trembling finger up to him.

“You didn’t think I’d notice, you liar?” Her voice was worn down and deep. She spat each word out, as if it contained poison.

“Jieun…” Yongguk was stone cold sober now. Seeing this ghost of his wife scared him.

“Was I not enough for you?” Her voice was raspy, as if she had been coughing for a long time. “Did I not love you?!”

Yongguk felt time slow down around him; his senses dulled. He couldn’t hear the crackling of the flames, or the see the sides of the room anymore. He was being plunged in a sightless and soundless nightmare in which he could only hear and see Jieun, who was in pain and frothing at the mouth with hatred.

“Please darling.” Yongguk took a step forward, but Jieun growled territorially. In her eyes, Yongguk could see that she wasn’t totally sane. They were wild, like that of a rabid animal’s, ablaze with the insanity of revulsion.

She took a step back, dangerously close to the fire. Her long white dress was mere millimeters from the flames that were eager to get a taste of the soft cotton fabric. “Is this what you want?” She waved Himchan’s precious letters before mercilessly tossing them into the fire. Yongguk watched as the white paper caught the flames and sank slowly until they were nothing but black ash. “Why a man, Yongguk? Why?” Her voice broke into a million pieces. “I trusted you. I love you, Yongguk, why can’t you see?”

“I love you too.” Yongguk took another step forward.

“Don’t you dare ever say that to me, Yongguk.” Jieun hissed loudly, carelessly backing up against the hot flames as if she couldn’t feel them. “Don’t you dare.”

“Please, Jieun, listen to me.”

“I’ve listened to you enough Yongguk.” Jieun rasped. “I thought you would take care of me in my darkest times. But here you are. Making love to another. A man. Have you no shame?”

“You weren’t supposed to know about this.” Yongguk admitted sheepishly.

“How could I not? All of Lord Choi’s court has been talking. You’re filthy.” She wiped her lips against the back of her hand.

Yongguk lent his hand out for her to take, but her eyes widened. She twisted her body away from him and made her way up the stairs. Yongguk sighed softly as he watched her take furious steps towards their bedroom.

*

Jieun slammed the heavy oak door behind her. Her heart was beating quickly and her nerves still made her body unstable. The cold of the marble floor was beginning to seep into her skin and make her shiver even more. She drew long shaky breaths to try and ease away the pain, but her mind had been cornered, trapped by it. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t escape the sharp knives that carved through her mind relentlessly, teasing and reminding her of how Yongguk had thrown her aside after all these years. This illusion she had called love, the very illusion she had dreamed about in her younger years, was just that: an illusion. It baffled her mind to the point where she couldn’t think. She had trusted Yongguk, she was about to trust him with her life, trust that he would care for her when her sickness proved too much for her body. But now she couldn’t. She couldn’t because she wasn’t sure who Yongguk was anymore. If he would really be there for her anymore. It weighed heavily on her heart, making her mind reel with blind fury.

A sudden whimper from the dark corner of her room snapped her attention. Her eyes were wide and cold as she stepped silently towards the noise. Her flesh tearing from the icy ground made soft patting noises, as she strained her ears to hear. Sighing softly she slowly bent over the crib. Even in the darkness, she could see the small glimmer of Youngjae’s open eyes. Holding her breath, her fingers trailed down his face, her nails slightly digging into his young skin. Underhand she felt his nose, like that of Yongguk’s, his lips, soft like those of Yongguk’s. Swallowing thickly, she continued her hard-pressed journey along his tiny torso. The baby whimpered at his mother’s unusual touch. But Jieun wasn’t feeling Youngjae. Beneath her fingers was the effigy of the man she now despised. She felt his soft stomach and tiny legs, her breaths becoming rapid. Her finger pressed down too hard on his navel and Youngjae uttered a sharp, but short cry.

Jieun’s head snapped towards her son’s face. Her features were contorted in pain. The voice was pushing her over the edge. In her blind fury, she picked up the pillow from the behind Youngjae’s head.

“Is this what you want?!” Jieun raised her voice shrilly. Her eyes burned with a twisted hatred, her lips contorted into a sneer.  With strong arms, she forced the pillow on Youngjae’s face.

Feeling his breath cut off, the baby struggled. He cried out as his mother put her back into the move, keeping the pillow still. She had snapped. Her eyes were wide and crazy, her mind was spinning with fury and the walls seemed to enclose on her, egging her to keep going., to keep going until Youngjae wasn’t struggling anymore. She watched with hysterical eyes as his legs and arms flailed under the pillow, her ears taking in the pained, muffled cries. Her heart raced and a gruesome smile played on her lips. A short, stifling laugh ripped through as she gaped at her son’s struggling body. “Heaven forgive me!” Her words bounced off the walls, as if misplaced. Her tone was still b with insanity as she continued to push down on the pillow. Her body convulsed with each spasm of her son’s body until it was over; he had stopped moving, stopped breathing.

Jieun collapsed next to the crib. Sweat beaded her forehead and she reached up with shuddering hands to wipe it off. Before she had time to register her actions, she felt as if Death itself was clawing its bony fingers down . Jieun began coughing violently, crimson staining her stark white dress. Pain shot through her lungs as she heaved blood, gasping dryly for air. Her hands pounded at her chest, as if she was trying to get all the blood out.  She convulsed as another wave of coughs ripped through her body, red splattering the floor.

Yongguk silently opened the door and watched as his wife stained her dress red. Her lips glistened with crimson, even in the darkness. Her eyes looked up at him. They were no longer crazy, just broken. As if someone had taken a hammer to them and smashed them into a million pieces.  He stood in silence, a bubble of speech getting in caught in his throat. His eyes swept the dark room silently before landing back on Jieun who was now collapsed from exhaustion in a pool of her own blood.