Hak-yeon ran, had never run so much in his life. He had no time to wait for a cab or bus, couldn’t even think about entering a place as crowded and full as the subway. He never gave himself time to rest, ignored how his lungs burned and his legs felt like they would collapse under him at any second.  

It was his fault that Saet-byul hurt whoever’s doll that was. He shouldn’t have provoked her, should have realized that saying what he did would only upset her. He was supposed to stop her, had gone to hear her tell him it was someone else, that she hadn’t been the one doing this. He wanted to believe that, even now. He wanted to believe so desperately that she was lying, that his Byullie was innocent. He wanted to; so, so badly. He replayed the image of her stabbing the doll, the knife slicing through so easily, in his mind, his heart racing. That—that couldn’t have been her. She couldn’t have... couldn’t...but she had. Right in front of him, stabbed right before his eyes.  

He gasped, the cold air rushing through his lungs piercing. He couldn’t—he couldn’t kill another. He couldn’t—he wouldn’t. He’ll save him, whoever it is.  

He didn’t wait to try and knock on the door when the small antique shop came back into view, slamming the door open as he went straight for the back door. Immediately, he could hear loud piercing screams from the main room, running in to find everyone hovering over Yixing...the latter with a large, gaping hole in his chest.  

Hak-yeon fell to his knees by Yixing’s side, grabbing his cold hand. “Yi-Yixing, c-can you hear me?” he asked, voice hitching when Yixing’s eyes rolled around as if trying to see, eventually landing on him.  

“Ha...Ha-Hak-yeon...” he mumbled, his tongue heavy. “She...what...?” 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, this is my fault. I-I made her angry, she-“ 

Jong-dae howled as he scrambled back, shoving Kyung-soo away as he clutched his head. “She knows now! She knows we’re all here! We’re dead, we’re going to die! She’s going to kill all of us!” He snapped his head up, eyes wild as he scanned over them all staring at him. Yixing spluttered, blood coating his lips as his hand in Hak-yeon’s clenched. “Your fault! It’s your fault! You told her we’re here, now she’ll kill us! She’ll kill all of us!” He jumped to his feet, hyperventilating.  

“Have to escape! Run away before she comes! Have to run!” He shot out like a bullet, flailing when Chan-yeol leapt up and caught him around the waist, forcefully pulling him back. “Let go of me! She’ll find me! She’ll kill me-“ 

“Stop it!” Chan-yeol roared, throwing him down and stomping his foot on Jong-dae’s chest, pinning him down. “It doesn’t matter where you go, she has your doll and can do whatever the she wants with it. You can run as far away as you want, she can still kill you.” Jong-dae squirmed, refusing to listen as he muttered uselessly to himself, his breath hoarse with Chan-yeol’s foot still on his chest.  

“Hak-yeon...” Yixing whispered, and everyone looked back to the forgotten, dying man, the pool of blood under him only growing.  

“W-we can stitch it up,” Hak-yeon said hurriedly, looking at everyone for help. If they had some thread, they could do a makeshift stitching, patch him up enough until they could get someone to actually look at him. “Don’t worry Yixing, you’ll be fine. I promise.”  

“Hak-yeon...you know...t-that without the doll,” Yixing paused, his face so pale and his lips a bloodless red, “it will never heal. Y-you know...” 

“I’ll figure something out! I could— I could go and get your doll back. I can still save you!” He whirled around to Kyung-soo who had curled into a ball and was staring at him. “Kyung-soo! Thread—do you have any thread? And a needle?”  

Kyung-soo’s eyes raced as if trying to think, his teeth biting hard into his lip. “B-Baek-hyun had s-some... I d-don’t know where-“ 

“He kept them in the box in his closet!” Chan-yeol offered hurriedly, having now sat back down with Jong-dae pulled tightly into his arms, refusing to let the other move an inch. When Kyung-soo quickly ran off, he shouted after him, “Don’t touch anything else Do Kyung-soo!”  

Hak-yeon ripped his shirt over his head and pressed the clothing to Yixing’s chest, trying his best to stop the blood that just kept coming. He didn’t want to focus on the fact that Yixing could no longer hold his hand, his fingers weak and cold. He didn’t want to focus on how his eyes were clouded, staring blankly at the ceiling as his lips moved to try and breathe. He didn’t want to look at that, instead kept repeating his name and waiting for the other to blink at him. As long as he blinked, as long as his chest rose no matter how slight, Hak-yeon knew he was still alive. 

Kyung-soo eventually ran back in, a sewing kit in hand. Hak-yeon wasted no time snapping it open and haphazardly throwing things out until he found a needle and thread. He could hear Chan-yeol yell at him, but he wasn’t listening, had Kyung-soo press down on the wound while he readied the needle.  

“Okay Yixing, I’m going to start, okay?” he asked as he pulled his shirt away, the fabric soaked red. Yixing didn’t respond, only a small flutter of his eyelids to show he heard. He immediately started to try and sew the wound, Yixing laughing softly. 

“I...I don’t feel...anything...” 

“T-that’s good,” Hak-yeon tried to laugh with him, though was near hysterics. “T-this would hurt a lot, so it’s good you can’t feel.”  

His handiwork was sloppy, the stitches tight and clumsy, but it had slowed the bleeding. Hak-yeon ran his hands down his face, not realizing how they were coated with blood. Yixing’s eyes opened, his gaze so unfocused. “Thank you, Hak-yeon,” he whispered, his voice so soft Hak-yeon had to lean in to hear. Hak-yeon let out a small laugh of relief, his hand finding Yixing’s.  

“Don’t scare me like that again,” he said jokingly, but everyone could hear the relief and fear behind it. “You’ll be okay. J-just rest, I’ll make you something to eat when you wake up. O-okay?” 

“It’s okay...I’m not hungry...” He closed his eyes, his breath shaky and small. “But...I’m so cold...” 

Hak-yeon’s eyes widened, wiping his hands on his pants before pressing them against Yixing’s cheeks, feeling how cold he was. He was freezing. The room was warm, the sun was shining through the window and was so warm. “Here, take my hands. You’re freezing.” Yixing leaned into his touch slightly, a hint of a smile on his lips.  

“You’re so kind...Hak-yeon...thank you.” His breath stopped, his eyes still closed, his chest no longer rising. He looked so peaceful, the hint of a smile still on his lips, looking almost like he was sleeping.  

Hak-yeon didn’t move for the longest time, eyes wide and staring at his face, hoping that Yixing would blink again, gasp for air, would do something. Everyone was silent, even Jong-dae, all watching to see if he would move again, even glancing at Hak-yeon to say something. Slowly, shakily, Hak-yeon pulled one hand away and tapped his cheek lightly. “Hey, Yixing ah, don’t sleep yet. O-open your eyes, s-say something.” Yixing still didn’t move, had bled out despite their best efforts. Hak-yeon was near hysteric again, screaming.  

“Wake up! You can’t, you can’t die! I can’t lose you too! Please, open your eyes!” He grabbed Yixing’s shoulders and shook him roughly, the other’s head rolling back limply. “Please, please wake up! Please! I need you, you can’t die! Please!”  

“Hak-yeon!”

“No! Why did it have to be you? Why can’t it be me? Why can’t it be me?”

“Hak-yeon, stop it!” Chan-yeol put a surprisingly calm Jong-dae down as he went and pulled Hak-yeon away, turned him away from Yixing’s prone body and shoved his head into his shoulder. “H-he’s already gone. Let...let him sleep now.”  

“M-my fault,” Hak-yeon sobbed, grabbing onto Chan-yeol fearfully. “I made her do it. I made her angry and she did this. She killed him because of me.” 

“No she didn’t. You didn’t do anything. It was all Saet-byul. Saet-byul made the decision to do it, did it with her own hand.” Chan-yeol’s voice was hard, glaring tearfully at Yixing. “She’s the one who did all of this. Jong-in, Joon-myeon...Baek-hyun...she did it all herself.”  

“I should have stopped her,” Hak-yeon cried brokenly. “I should have gone earlier, stopped her before she killed them-“ 

“There is nothing you could have done,” he said soothingly. “She was going to kill regardless. She’s a killer, just like her mother. They’re all the same.”  

“It’s all my fault...just like Seok-jin...I did it...I did it...” 

“Hak-yeon, you need to sleep. Go take a shower, get some rest, and we can figure this out tomorrow.” When Hak-yeon shoved him away, furious the other would even think of trying to ignore what just happened, Chan-yeol slapped his mouth lightly. “I mean it. You’re covered in blood and not thinking straight. We all thank you deeply for what you did, even if he died. You’ve done more than anyone ever has for us. But it’s done, he’s gone, but like Joon-myeon used to say, we can only focus on stopping her from doing this to anyone else.”  

Hak-yeon sniffled, his eyes looking back at Yixing’s seemingly sleeping face, letting out a sad, trembling breath. “A-alright. Tomorrow...we’ll figure out what to do tomorrow.” Chan-yeol nodded, helped him stand up when Hak-yeon’s legs felt like they would give out from under him.

Chan-yeol waited until Hak-yeon had stepped into the bathtub before leaving, though Hak-yeon made no move to clean himself off. He watched disinterestedly as the blood slowly washed away, the bath water melting into a faded red. Yixing’s blood. Blood he spilt. Swallowing heavily, he brought his hands up to his face, his fingers threading through his hair and tugging harshly. Why were so many people dying for him? Seok-jin, Jong-in, Se-hun, Joon-myeon, Lu Han, Yixing...they all died because of him, because Saet-byul wanted him.

He opened his eyes briefly to stare at the water, his vision blurry from tears. If...if he was gone, she wouldn’t kill anyone anymore, would have no reason to. This all started because of him, so it should end with him too. He lowered himself further into the tub, his fingers clutching the edges of the tub as the water gradually raised to his chin. This never should have happened; he should have been the one to die instead of Seok-jin. His fingers began to relax, and he felt himself slowly slip under the water.

The moment the water entered his lungs, he shot up, coughing and spluttering, clutching his chest painfully. He couldn’t—he couldn’t kill himself. Not when he had his baby Binnie waiting for him, when he promised his Taek-woonie he would come home. He couldn’t leave them, couldn’t leave either of them. He bent over, coughing and crying, hating himself for how weak he was. People were dying because of him, but he was too afraid to do anything about it. So afraid and cowardly.

He pathetically cleaned himself off, stayed in the tub until every last bit of water went down the drain, taking Yixing with it. On his way to the bedroom Chan-yeol had offered, morbidly mentioning how there were so many empty rooms now, he paused to see Chan-yeol holding Kyung-soo silently, the two huddled together. He lowered his head sadly, knowing it was his fault they were in so much pain.

His fault.

He went to bed alone, his fingers gripping the sheets as he imagined his little Binnie with him. It had been so long since he slept alone; Hong-bin was always with him. He thought of the two of them, Hong-bin and Taek-woon, and wished he could go back to them right now, to curl up in bed with them on either side of him, them all close together. He wanted warmth, reassurance that he was okay. But they weren’t here, both safe at home and away from Saet-byul.

He would go back tomorrow, take them somewhere far away from Saet-byul. Somewhere she would never be able to find them.

The next morning he woke up to silence, not hearing anything from the kitchen or the bathroom down the hall. He didn’t hear anything from Jong-dae, which sounded warning bells off in his head. Climbing out of bed carefully, he went down to check the other bedrooms, heart racing when he found them all empty.

“Chan-yeol?” he called out, listening for any response and stiffening when there was none. “Kyung-soo? Jong-dae? Is anybody there?” He ran down the stairs, Yixing’s body still lying still in the living room. “Hello? Where is everybody?”

He opened the door to the antique front, ran up and down the shelves for any sign of the others. He ran back inside the house, calling their names as he looked everywhere. But there was no one there. They were gone. They were gone.

He collapsed to his knees, arms wrapped around himself as he shivered, mind going blank.

She had them.

Saet-byul took them.

--

Bin made sure to walk a few steps behind Jae-hwan and Won-shik, his whole body wanting nothing more than to have someone’s arms around him and let him know everything was okay. More than anything he wanted Hak-yeon’s arms around him, kissing him and reassuring him everything was okay. Jae-hwan glanced over to him with a sad smile, his hand shakily reaching out to try and brush his hair but stopped halfway, pulling back abruptly as if burned. He might as well have been burned, that was all Bin would ever do to Jae-hwan.

Forever and ever.  

Saet-byul hadn’t stopped for even a second, Won-shik driving them all the way until they arrived at a house. Bin didn’t recognize it, even when Saet-byul said it was home—Bin only knew the basement. He had never stepped foot outside until Hak-yeon saved him. Bin whimpered when Won-shik threw Taek-woon over his shoulder, Saet-byul right behind him with their dolls in hand. Won-shik mumbled a promise that he wouldn’t hurt him through strained lips, and Bin could only cry as he let Taek-woon’s hand go. He didn’t want to let Taek-woon go, didn’t want to let her have him, but he couldn’t do anything about it.  

He couldn’t do anything.  

Jae-hwan noticed Bin still staring at him, looking down at him and giving him a struggling smile, his eyes still so empty. “Shh, don’t worry about me,” he soothed, glancing at Saet-byul quickly before reaching over and pushing Bin’s fringe from his eyes. The touch was only for a second, ripping his hand away just as quickly and running to Won-shik’s side. Won-shik looked confusedly at the other before glancing back at Bin crying, and he seemed to understand as he whispered something softly into Jae-hwan’s ear. Jae-hwan looked back and sent Bin an apologetic look, but Bin could only focus on the fear in Jae-hwan’s eyes, the terrified way he clung to Won-shik’s sleeve, how he hadn’t smiled once since he’d seen him.  

It wasn’t right. 

Jae-hwan was supposed to be happy and loud, always smiling and making Bin laugh. Jae-hwan was supposed to play games and do things that would make Bin forget about everything. 

Jae-hwan wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

Dolls weren’t supposed to be like this, didn’t break this fast. Saet-byul did something to break him.  

He seethed silently as he glared at Saet-byul’s back, wanting nothing more than to grab both Won-shik and Jae-hwan and take them far, far away. He would take them somewhere where they would never have to feel pain from the dolls, where she would never be able to torture them. He wanted to protect them, to keep them away so she would never be able to touch Jae-hwan again, touch any of his friends again. 

Won-shik stopped when Saet-byul moved to open a door hidden in the corner of the house, shifting Taek-woon on his back so he could turn to brush Jae-hwan’s cheek. “You doing okay?” he asked concernedly, his expression not lessening one bit even when the other nodded, his fingers on his arm tightening. He looked over to Bin, stepping back a couple steps before lowering his voice to a hush, “A-are you okay Hong-bin?” Bin didn’t answer, staring sadly when he saw how the other tried his best to face him, saw how much he was causing them pain. Bin’s friends...she did this to Bin’s friends... 

Won-shik shifted uncomfortably under Bin’s stare, and Bin immediately looked straight down at his side where Won-shik’s hand was hovering, his face pulled in a grimace.  

Bin’s eyes widened, hands shooting out and slapping Won-shik’s hand away, ignoring his panicked cry as he pulled Won-shik’s shirt up. “H-Hong-bin, please-”

“Doll too,” he muttered, backing away in horror and looking up at him with tears in his eyes. “She made you a doll too.”

“Sorry kiddo,” he said gently, only having time to fix Taek-woon on his back before Saet-byul broke the lock open, turning to them as she opened the door.  

“Get down,” she said sternly, pointing to the door that only led down to a flight of stairs. Bin felt his blood run cold at the sight, the draft coming up from the stairway causing goose bumps to run across his skin. He had spent so much of his life down in that basement, could recognize the smell in an instant. Hak-yeon had promised him that Bin would never have to go back there again, that she was locked away and wouldn’t be able to touch him again. That he would never let anything happen to him again. 

But Hak-yeon broke his promise.  

He never thought about Saet-byul.  

Won-shik noticed how Bin was starting to shake, grimacing as he turned back to Saet-byul. “Saet-byul, do we have to go into the basement?” 

“Yes,” she said angrily, holding her head when it looked like she was about to fall over, “the basement is where all old dolls go.”  

“The hell? You’ve made more?”

She didn’t answer right away, instead pulling two dolls out of her bag and forcing Jae-hwan and Won-shik to unwillingly head down to the basement. She didn’t allow Bin any time to think, Jae-hwan’s hands shooting out and roughly grabbing his arm, shoving him forward and forcing him to lead in front. His nails dug painfully into his shoulders, his tight hold keeping him from running away. Jae-hwan whispered apologies until Saet-byul silenced his voice, the only reminder Jae-hwan was still there being the tears that would occasionally fall on Bin’s shoulders.   

“I’m going to get rid of all of you,” Saet-byul spoke suddenly as they got to the bottom of the stairs, pushing past them all so she could swing the heavy door open. Bin felt his heart stop, his eyes dilating at the sight of the table with the swinging light overhead, the torture box resting open on top. She opened their voices again as she turned to give them a chilling smile, so innocent seeming yet so terrifying. “So that N will be my only doll. I will hide you all away so that you can never confuse him again.”   

“Confuse him...?”   

“No...” Bin mumbled, his eyes running over the place, the place where he grew up, the only thing he could remember before Hak-yeon saved him. There...there was the place she would stand so she could see everyone. There was the chair she would sit to watch. “No no no no no no no no...” There was the tape she would wrap the needle with, the same tape she would use if one of the dolls started bleeding and she couldn’t stop it. There was the place she would drag out the dolls to torture, making sure it was where everyone could see. The ground was still red from all the blood that had been spilt. There was Joon-myeon and Yi Fan’s cage, Baek-hyun and Chan-yeol’s, Kyung-soo and Jong-in’s...his... There was his cage. His. No...he was never supposed to come back here. Hak-yeon said he was safe. Safe. Both he and Taek-woon promised Bin he would never have to go back to the basement again. They promised. 

“Hong-bin,” Jae-hwan tried to calm him, but Bin collapsed to the ground, gasping for air that he just couldn’t seem to get enough of. Everything was closing in on him, crushing Bin until he was curled into a tiny ball, his hands protecting his head. The screams, all the screams she forced, the screams pleading to stop, begging to stop, Bin heard everything. All the dolls she killed and blamed Bin for, had been Bin’s fault, they were here again, watching him, blaming him. If Bin had just been good, she wouldn’t have killed them.   

“Hong-bin! Please calm down, please!”   

He felt a hand brush his arm and he screamed, looked up to see her staring at him, not registering the look of shock on her face. She backed away when he scrambled back, eyes wide in absolute terror. Why did he do that? Why did he move away from her? She was going to be so mad—so so mad—now she was going to cut someone apart, wait until they nearly bled out before stitching him up—was going to watch Bin the whole time to see him cut his wrists pleadingly. He buried his face in his knees as he bowed down, willing to do whatever it took to stop her. If he begged, if he pleaded, maybe she would stop—maybe she would hurt Bin instead— 

“Saet-byul, do something! Please, you can’t leave him like this!”  

He felt hands push his shoulders up, but instead of seeing Jae-hwan he saw Seok-jin, his face bruised and cut up. Hak-yeon had told Seok-jin died, Seok-jin died away from where Bin could have tried to save him. Bin would have been bad if he could have saved Seok-jin.   

Bin would have done anything to save Seok-jin. 

“I’m sorry,” he blubbered, pushing Seok-jin’s hands away. “I’m sorry! Bin—Bin wanted to! B-but couldn’t...couldn’t!”   

“, hyung-” Bin looked back behind Seok-jin to see Joon-myeon, crying when he remembered Joon-myeon disappearing. Hak-yeon had been so upset, Bin had been so upset—he couldn’t, no—did she, she captured Joon-myeon again? Bin didn’t understand, didn’t want to understand. Joon-myeon threw down whatever was on his back as he ran over to Bin’s side, grabbing his arms tightly and shaking him. “Hong-bin! Calm down! It’s okay, you’re okay!”  

“No!” Bin struggled to get away, suddenly so hot. The basement was always hot. She always made it so hot, so he would sweat, so the chains would rip harder at his skin. She always laughed when he was in pain. She would stop when Bin was in pain.   

“Not like that Won-shik,” Seok-jin whispered, pushing Joon-myeon away and pulling Bin into a crushing hug, hushing him and running a hand through his hair. He stopped mid-cry, eyes wide as he tried to understand. Hak-yeon always played with Bin’s hair, it made Bin feel happy and safe. He looked up to see Hak-yeon, and blinked when Seok-jin vanished and Jae-hwan was the one shushing him. “Shh, hyung is here,” he soothed, rocking him gently. “Hyung’s got you, hyung’s got you...”  

Bin wasn’t sure how Jae-hwan was holding him, how he was able to be so close and calm without the doll causing him to scream and cry. But he didn’t care, desperate for comfort and reassurance, clinging onto Jae-hwan desperately. “H-hyung…hyung…”   

As Jae-hwan calmed Bin, Won-shik whirled around on Saet-byul. “What the hell is this place? What did you do to him?”   

Saet-byul had been watching Bin’s crying the whole time, mesmerized, and looked up blankly at his question. “This was where I used to live. My mother kept her dolls down here.” She looked back down to Bin, her lip curling. “And she kept him here too.”   

“The fu-“ Won-shik ran a hand through his hair in disbelief, grasping for words, “you mean she locked him up down here? You bastards locked him up in one of these cages?”   

“I never touched him!” she shouted back. “He was my mother’s doll! I never cared about him until he went and stole N from me!”   

“Stole? Stole? Look at him! Do you think he’s in any condition to steal anything from anyone? For god’s sake, look at him! He’s just a kid!”   

“N would rather stay with him, with my mother’s doll instead of me! He made N leave me at the hospital, told N that I was dangerous and-”  

“The kid talks in third person and cries in public! Do you really think he was the one to tell Hak-yeon anything?”  

Saet-byul paused, eyes wide as if she couldn’t believe him, glancing between Jae-hwan and Bin, opening and closing as if trying to figure out what to say. When Won-shik turned around to check on Jae-hwan and Bin, Saet-byul growled as she whipped out Won-shik’s doll and slammed it on the table, Jae-hwan wailing when Won-shik collapsed to the ground in pain. “You’re a doll!” she stuttered out, her face red as she tried to sound menacing. “You can’t talk to me like that!”   

“,” Won-shik gasped, rolling onto his back as he coughed. Jae-hwan tried to reach out to him but his hand froze midway, both him and Bin looking up to see Jae-hwan’s doll in her hand.   

“Don’t move,” she commanded, tone harsh. “You’re my dolls, you have to listen to me!”   

“Jae-hwan hyung!” Bin cried, sobbing again when Jae-hwan shoved him away, shooting to his feet with tears in his eyes, Saet-byul gripping his doll fiercely. She went to one of the barred cages, Joon-myeon’s, and swung it open, forcing Jae-hwan to go inside. The moment she shut it Jae-hwan lunged at the bars, crying and screaming for Won-shik.   

“Saet-byul, please, don’t do this,” he sobbed, arms reaching through the bars to try and reach Won-shik. “Please, at least let me be with Won-shik, please Saet-byul-“  

“I’m giving you the most comfortable one,” she said, pointing at the couch sitting at the back of the cage. Bin gasped, wanting to tell Jae-hwan to stay far away from it. Yi Fan had died on that couch, others tortured on it; it was tainted. Dirty. Jae-hwan shouldn’t touch, shouldn’t go anywhere near it. Someone as nice and clean as Jae-hwan shouldn’t touch it. “I don’t want to hurt you Ken,” she added, shooting her fingers through his outstretched hand, clasping tightly despite Jae-hwan trying to pull away. “I’m still really sorry, so I’m going to keep you in here where you’re safe.”   

“S-Saet-byul, please-”

“Saet-byul-” She glared at the sound of Won-shik behind her, slamming his doll on the table again to quiet him. Bin watched him wither in pain in front of him, too scared to move. He knew this, if he moved, it would be bad. Saet-byul was just like her, liked to see Bin in pain. But Saet-byul was also different, and he didn’t want to do anything that could make her hurt the others.   

“N doesn’t like you,” she sneered, eyes hard as she forced him to stand up despite how he hissed in pain, “so I don’t either. I don’t care if Ken likes you or not, I’ll hurt you for N.”   

“Saet-byul, don’t!” Jae-hwan pleaded, but she ignored him.   

“Hak-yeon...” Won-shik gritted out, “wouldn’t want to hurt me. Even if he hates me, he wouldn’t do this.”   

“Yes he would!” she roared, going over to Jong-dae and Se-hun’s old cage and sliding the glass door open. Bin wanted to jump up and shove him away when she made Won-shik pick Taek-woon back up, slinging him harshly over his shoulder.   

“No! Taek-woon hyung!”  

“Won-shik! Saet-byul, please-”

She slammed the glass door behind them, grabbing the keys she found in the torture box and locking it shut. Won-shik placed Taek-woon down gently before running and banging on the glass, both his and Jae-hwan’s screams deafening. She rolled her eyes before running a finger over Won-shik’s doll’s mouth, effectively silencing him. Bin trembled. She was so scary, Saet-byul was so scary. He knew her, knew her favorite ways to torture and what to expect. He knew how to pacify her too. But Saet-byul, he didn’t know anything.   

Jae-hwan stopped crying when Won-shik was silenced, eyes wide as he watched Saet-byul walk slowly over to Bin. Bin shook under her gaze, afraid of what she would do. He had no idea what she would do. She suddenly smiled, and he froze. “Which one was yours Hong-binnie?” His eyes shot over to his cage, noticed the glass stained red with his dried blood. She followed his eyes and grinned even wider.   

“I’ll be nice and give you your old one back. How’s that sound?” Bin’s eyes dilated as he backed away as fast as he could, his arms burning. He could feel the glass slicing through his skin, his blood so warm and the pain so, so painful. He could hear her laughing; he didn’t want to do that again. He was supposed to be safe, Hak-yeon promised he was safe. W-where was Hak-yeon? Hak-yeon, he needed Hak-yeon. He needed him.   

She crouched down in front of him, leaning forward until her hair nearly brushed Bin’s face, “N won’t come to save you, not anymore. I’m taking him back.” Bin whimpered, wanting to scream at her that Hak-yeon would never leave him, that he loved Bin and would never go back to her. But he found his voice stuck in his throat, his whole body shaking with her so close to him, and jumped when there was a loud knock from upstairs.   

Saet-byul brightened, jumping to her feet excitedly. “They’re here!” she squealed, rushing past Bin as she swung the door open and ran upstairs, the sounds of her footsteps fading as she left. The basement was deathly silent after she was gone, only the sounds of Bin’s crying making any noise. After a few seconds, Jae-hwan slid down to his knees, his sad eyes looking straight at Bin.   

“Hong-bin...Hong-binnie...come here.” Bin hesitated, glanced back at the door in case Saet-byul burst through the door again, before gathering enough courage to crawl over to Jae-hwan’s cage. He only crawled a few inches before he remembered the failsafe, remembered that day in the hospital with Baek-hyun and Hak-yeon nearly bit his own tongue in half at the sight of his mother. He quickly scrambled back, shaking his head furiously. He wouldn’t—he didn’t know how Jae-hwan did it before, but he wasn’t going to chance hurting him. Not to Jae-hwan. He liked Jae-hwan.

Jae-hwan paused at Bin’s reaction before nodding his head understandingly, instead just reaching out through the bars, patting the ground. “Hong-bin ah, I can’t imagine you lived like this...saw things like this...that you grew up like this...I’m so sorry.”   

“Hyung didn’t do it,” he reassured, his voice catching between sobs, “hyung is okay. Bin—I’m sorry, Bin liked Jae-hwan hyung. Bin didn’t want hyung to know about the dolls. D-didn’t want...didn’t want hyung to be a doll...”  

“Hong-bin,” Jae-hwan gasped, trembling, pulling back and burying his head in his knees, “please don’t say my name. Please...I...everything hurts when you—just, please...don’t...”  

“I’m sorry hyung, it’s Bin’s fault. Bin was bad-”

“Nothing was your fault. You did nothing wrong. Don’t listen to her, you’re a wonderful boy, you did nothing wrong.” Bin was crying again, he only ever cried. He wanted to thank Jae-hwan, to be strong like Taek-woon or Hak-yeon and save him, but he couldn’t do anything.   

He could only cry.  

The door burst open, Saet-byul striding in with —Bin’s eyes widened in disbelief and horror—his other hyungs—the other dolls. She disregarded Bin completely, instead allowing the others to get a good view of the basement, her smile so bright. Chan-yeol was the first to notice Bin, his face twisting in rage as he glared daggers at Saet-byul.   

“You ing ,” he snarled. “How dare you grab Bin-“  

“I’ll grab whoever I want,” she shot back. She went into her bag and pulled out all their dolls, putting them all in separate cages. Bin shook his head, this wasn’t right! There were always two in a cage, always two. She sometimes liked watching them hurt each other. They can’t be alone, it wasn’t right. Jong-dae was screaming, yelling madly about how he knew this was coming and she was going to kill them all. Saet-byul laughed at him, thought what he said funny before silencing his doll and tossing him into the smallest cage.   

“Hyung...” Bin moaned, effectively getting Saet-byul’s attention again.  

“I almost forgot about you, little Hong-bin. I left yours open, it’s all for you.” She waited for him to get up, glaring when he didn’t. “Get in.”   

“Saet-byul,” Jae-hwan tried, “he’s terrified. Can you put him with me? Please-”  

“No, he’s the last one to get anything special,” she spat. “But if you don’t do what I say, then I’ll just have to make you.” She grabbed Won-shik’s doll, and Bin watched in a panic as Won-shik got up and straddled Taek-woon’s still body, his hands wrapping tightly around his neck. Won-shik’s eyes were wide in fear, unable to shout for help or beg with his voice silenced, only his eyes showing how terrified he was.   

“Stop!” Bin begged, pleaded, jumped forward and pulled desperately at her pant legs. “Bin was wrong, Bin is so sorry! Please, don’t hurt Taek-woon hyung! Please, Bin was wrong!” He scrambled to his feet before anyone could move, crawling over the sharp glass of his cage, accidentally slicing his leg in the process. He didn’t even register the pain, his eyes on Saet-byul until she had Won-shik step away and his hands break away from Taek-woon’s neck. Taek-woon coughed painfully in his sleep, whatever she had done still forcing him to dream.   

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” she said sweetly, and Chan-yeol slammed furiously on the glass of his cage, his eyes filled with such rage and hatred.   

“You . You ing, messed up .”   

She paused for a moment before giving him a sad smile. “I never wanted to be like this. But it’s what I’ve become, and I’ll embrace it completely.”