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Ryu Jaekwan has been plagued by dreams as of late. Not that he's aware of it now, tightening the strap around his thigh, clicking on safety, and holstering his pistol. He passes by the medieval lanterns and tapestries in the cramped halls. The thuds of his boots pick up in pace until he’s running down the passage. At an upcoming fork, an officer darts out from the right. He barely keeps pace with Ryu Jaekwan.
“Detective Ryu, the suspect is making his way to the choke point!” the officer says.
“Understood! Close off the area behind me!” Jaekwan throws out an arm. The officer stays behind.
Noru, the infamous thief, has been accruing a wildfire of notoriety over the last year. Responsible for no less than six high-profile cases. Since Ryu Jaekwan began cooperating with the police, he’s connected two additional, previously unsolved thefts to Noru’s early career, before the thief picked up the habit of announcing his heists with a calling card. But even with the forewarnings, the police force failed to bring in the culprit when he’d stolen away with The Rose on the Hill. Now Jaekwan’s on the field, having pulled together this operation from floor plans, secret passages, traps, impromptu reconstruction, and an organization of too many personnel. It’s a pincer move on the sixth floor. Jaekwan would exit from a one-way passage to cut off the perpetrator.
As if summoned, the end of the corridor comes into sight. He yanks the pulley to the hidden door. The wall swings open with resistance, but he’s just in time to collide with the fleeing, suit-adorned Noru.
Between the gaps of the black mask, Jaekwan sees the glint of red in Noru’s eyes. The way his pupils tremble. Noru tumbles, and Ryu Jaekwan grasps him in a headlock, his body perpendicular to the detective. Ryu Jaekwan’s back slams into the smaller man. A black glove hopelessly grapples his thigh. However, the advantage doesn’t last. Noru’s calf comes from behind Jaekwan’s head and hooks around the detective’s neck. The thief interlocks his foot behind the knee of his other leg. Dark dyed cotton presses against his lower face and cheeks. His body’s locked in between Noru’s legs. Jaekwan’s ribs swell as the oxygen gets trapped in his upper airway. A clamor arises from officers keeping the barricade. One reaches for a gun.
“Do not use lethal force to detain the target!” Ryu Jaekwan chokes out. “And do not move from position-!”
There was nowhere else to go, even if Noru choked him out on the chilly carpet that was woven longer than both of them had been alive. Capture was inevitable. Jaekwan’s eyes roll from the cold stone walls, windows lining the right-hand side, and tapestries and lanterns alternating on the left. No rooms. No stairs. No doors. It was a death sentence to leap from this height, and it would be straight into water. Pressure mounts in his skull, and stale air gasps out of his mouth. He’s getting dizzy. Still. It’s not quite dangerous yet. His knife’s in his left coat pocket… He just needs it in his palm, and he’ll aim at the lower legs. He slowly settles his hand into his coat. Then Noru releases him. The thief shoots to his feet and makes his distance as Ryu Jaekwan hacks over the dusty floors. The police assigned to the far end of the hallway enter into sight. Noru backs away from the center of the corridor. The rush of oxygen has Jaekwan tearing up, but he gathers his words.
“There is no way to retreat, Noru!” He gasps. “Raise your hands, and we will arrest you without harm!”
The recipient of the warning makes no sound, continuing to pull away towards the windows. Jaekwan pulls himself up by the arms and clambers to his feet. The thief steps up onto the ledge. No, certainly not. Elbows follow gloves, and he assumes the thief thrust open the panels of glass to the open night sky. A breeze brushes Noru’s bangs over his forehead. Those reddish-black eyes are wide in watch at his approach. His chin lifts in a move of conceit. That cold gust sweeps past Jaekwan, carrying a perfume of wine. The detective’s brows knit tighter as he bolts forward.
To jump is a death sentence.
“Noru-!” Jaekwan’s voice reverberates.
A gunshot. Blue candlelight within a lantern explodes into a mess of glass shards. Detective Ryu Jaekwan recoils, ears ringing. The flames spark down into something redder, flushed by the increase of oxygen and drop in temperature. Flames catch on the dust coating the floor, drawing a line between him and Noru. A black glove clamps onto the stone ridge of the window, and the thief he’s pursuing swings out wide. Noru’s arm stretches taut until only one heel of his shoe rests on the cobbled windowsill. The other half of his body dangles outside the castle. A familiar pistol is looped in his finger. Jaekwan’s eyes widen. His hand claps to his thigh. His holster. Empty.
Noru’s face is golden in the firelight, but his expression is impassive.
“Farewell, Detective.”
Fingers release, and the phantom thief disappears beyond the window frame.
Agent Bronze yanks Noru up by the lapels of his business suit. They were in the midst of a Disaster, but Noru’s actions were unfathomable. Bronze’s glare can barely be seen in the dark, but the irritation bleeds into his voice.
“Why did you swallow the egg?” Bronze asks.
“I didn’t.” Noru says. His words are slurred from pursing his lips and holding an object in his mouth. “This is the easiest way to hide its light of the egg.”
The thrum of wings echo overhead before settling down. A gust disperses through the thick branches surrounding them. Agent Bronze loosens his grip on Noru. He pulls them away from the brambled maze walls, leading them into a crouch. He would’ve been deep into the maze at this point, hadn’t it been for this mishap.
‘Firefly’s Egg,’ a marble made out of tiny shards of colored glass, filled with a vividly phosphorescent fluid. It was an item that dokkaebi exchanged special services for. It was also the source of this whole mess. Technically, while the egg is in your possession, you’re “safe” to navigate the twisting halls. However, anything bright drives the Collector within the [Magpie’s Nest] into a frenzy. It wasn’t incorrect for Noru to hide the blazing danger sign that is the egg, but it wasn’t correct for him to store it in his mouth.
“I didn’t realize Daydream employees found a way into this Disaster.” Bronze furrows his brows, finally recalling the state of Noru when he’d last seen the Daydream employee. The man had been bleeding out, abandoned without a name tag. Bronze clenches his fist and holds off subduing him, in part because of the Firefly’s Egg.
“Ah, no. I fell into this place on my day off,” Noru says, gesturing to his casual wear and lack of mask as if he couldn’t have hidden that odd deer mask on him. Bronze tenses his posture. Daydream employees were always hungry for items and profit, ransacking supernatural disasters amidst chaos. Even if this individual, Noru, has behaved at odds with the usual selfish ideals of that detestable company, he couldn’t put other priorities over the ultimately self-serving, absurd desire for a Wish Potion.
There may be more Daydream employees crawling about. Fortunately, there is only ever one Firefly’s Egg per month, but that made retrieving it from Noru more pressing.
“This Disaster is under the jurisdiction of the Supernatural Disaster Management Bureau. Forfeit the item, so I can guide us to the exit,” Agent Bronze says.
“I do want to cooperate.” Noru shifts away from Bronze’s hold. The agent furrows his brow at the prickle of discomfort. “But, it’d be best for the egg to be taken out of the Darkness.”
“The Disaster calls for a trade to be made first for a safe exit, which I’ll complete.”
“Then how about you escort me out? Do you have an escape item?”
A crackle reverberates through the air.
Time is running out. Light was bound to flood the nest. Bronze clenches his jaw; he can return within the next few days, after the Collector settles.
“Alright,” Bronze says. “But, give me your wrist. I need to tie the two of us.”
Noru hesitates but brings his arm closer. Bronze loops tattered rope binds around both of their hands, and it dissolves. It’ll keep them in close proximity. He retrieves the five-colored shoelaces from his inner jacket and hands one of the pairs to Noru.
The two crouch. The Daydream employee stares at the escape item in hand. Bronze notes that instead of the standard shiny dress shoes every Daydream employee wore, Noru has chunky white sneakers, shockingly clean, perhaps even new if it wasn’t for the wearing down on his heels. Thick white laces occupy the eyelets.
“Here.”
Bronze pulls the laces free with practiced ease and bounds the bundle. He places them in the palm of Noru, who tucks them into his pants pocket. An exhale from Noru’s nose ruffles his hair. He weaves the aglets through and ties them off into a bow. He makes sure the sneaker’s snug. The act feels like deja vu, one he’d done for a junior not too long ago.
“I can do the other,” Noru says.
Reluctantly, Bronze offers the other lace. He begins working on his own shoes, an eye peering at Noru across from him. The latter doesn’t struggle with swapping the laces, although his bunny loop is crooked and looser than Bronze’s. The agent relaxes once they both complete their preparations.
What sounds like the snap of a light switch bounces throughout the space. They both stiffen in caution. The space Agent Bronze and Noru occupy stays pitch black. Unfortunately, the clicking is getting more and more rapid. The interval shrinks until it’s a tremoring buzz.
For a moment, they’re blinded. The maze reveals itself as a mess of harsh yellow skies and dense, thorny branches, the thickness of Bronze’s waist. The space above them gapes open. A warbling screech pierces the air. The crunching of the Collector rearranging its spine tells him: it’s preparing to hunt.
Bronze squints. Noru’s pupils jump around in alarm. He spots something pink peeking from a pocket.
“I’m sorry, Agent.”
Fingers dig into the back of his hair and yank him close. Noru’s thumb runs over the front of Bronze’s throat. The friction from his fingers burns. Noru feels for Bronze’s Adam's apple before pressing. The agent’s mouth parts. Lips tightly seal over his own.
He feels a sense of euphoria, a thudding in his heart. This isn’t right.
The tip of a tongue, cold compared to the compressed heat of his mouth, scrapes against his bottom lip. Tastebuds flick tastebuds. Something round, heavy, smooth deposits onto his tongue. Gently. The cast of Noru’s bangs draws sharp shadows across his face before the lights blink out again. The pressure shifts from lip to tongue.
Noru thrusts him by the shoulder, and Agent Bronze pitches forward. He stumbles, attempting to steady himself. He whips his unbalanced upper body around to spot Noru’s face as he’s harshly illuminated. A faint smile rests on his face. He’d already kicked off one of his shoes.
“Goodbye, Agent Bronze.”
The harsh trills of a magpie and the fluttering of wings cluster together. The deafening roar converges upon Noru until the light blinks out, just in a dark cone over his body.
The agent’s foot comes down on his third step. And it all disappears.
Sweat’s thick on his back. Ryu Jaekwan’s chest heaves. A dream? His feet are bare of shoes, much less rescue shoelaces. He’s familiar with the way the moonlight falls against his ceiling. His blankets pool around his hips as he sits up. Hard, cold spheres press into his hands. The city’s lowlight glints off the glassy objects scattered on his bed. Marbles. His tongue rolls over something hard and round in between his teeth. Another marble drops, weighty, into his open palm. Flecks of orange, red, teal, and green catch on his jaw, the headboard, his bookshelf–any surface that light can reach–until his room’s broken into iridescent shards. Bits of light that hit the marbles form their own halos until they clink and clatter off the bed’s edge.
Smoke wafts in a thick miasma on the floor. A figure stands in his bedroom, its hanbok torn around its upper body to reveal an empty chest. It’s illuminated from the inside, between its ribs and the hollows of its eyes. Only once it steps forward does the sound of bells resonate.
A malevolent spirit found him after he’d invited them in. He’s not a fully trained baksu, yet, but he still has the invocations memorized. The sweat that cooled at his back begins to warm as Ryu Jaekwan chants. He roots himself in place as he bellows from the stomach. He hears the ricochet of the sticks against drums.
The spirit moves uninhibited, approaching his bed until it's by his side. It bows its head, heavy horns tilting and revealing more spines and spikes from above. Jade bells dance with the sway of its shoulders. The point of an antler brushes the apex of his cheek. The chant mounts in volume. With gloved hands, it gingerly picks up the small piece of glass in his lap, the marble that fell from Jaekwan’s mouth.
The golden light from its eyes catches on the clear surface and reflects into Jaekwan’s vision.
The sun winks from between the dappling of leaves overhead. Ryu Jaekwan winces and lowers his head, making certain to keep the handlebars straight. Arms are wound around his waist from behind as he pedals. He’s careful not to veer too close to the steep hill on his right. Rather, he keeps the bike closer to the thick stonewall that follows the dirt paths of Gochang. He recalls that their second bike, Soleum’s, had fallen into the riverbank and got washed away. Hence, they were two men crammed onto a bike seat. It was a stellar idea of his to come so far out on their college break.
“Kim Soleum-ssi, you’re aware that it’s illegal to ride a single bike with two passengers, right?”
“Yes. Um… Sorry.”
“...”
“...”
“...Is your ankle alright?” Jaegwan asks.
“Oh-! Yes, haha.” Soleum runs a hand through his hair in sheepishness. “Actually, after my fall, I thought you’d suggest we walk with your bike because it’s illegal.”
“I was going to.”
“...”
Jaekwan clears his throat, furrowing his brows with embarrassment. “But, I thought it’d be best to get out of the heat, and since there isn’t a bus stop nearby, and your leg is injured—“ He would’ve given the bike to Soleum to ride solo, had it not been for the last point. “It’d be better to get you help. I’ll steer carefully.”
A disarmed laugh escapes his junior. Soleum quickly cuts off the sound, but he feels the quake of Kim Soleum’s shoulder against his shoulder blade for a second longer. The warmth of the sun creeps up to his ears. The wind from pedaling the bike soothes the sweltering heat of summer, but it can’t quite reach where Soleum presses against his back. Ryu Jaekwan glances at Soleum.
“You’d better face forward, Ryu Jaekwan-ssi.” Kim Soleum points forward down the road, but a smile pulls at his lips and softens the curve of his sharp, usually downcast eyes. The cool shadows of the sky reflect blue into his pupils.
They escape the coverage of trees just as Jaekwan wrenches his gaze to where he’s pedaling. He can feel the color, akin to a sunburnt flush, crawl over the back of his neck and cheeks where the summer rays touch. Mercifully, the road ahead is a straight shot for several dozen meters. He squeezes his eyes shut.
“Of course.” His voice stays steady, his mind anything but.
Jaekwan opens bleary eyes to the waiting room of Hyeonmu Team 1, his back to the sofa and a weight against his upper arm. Dusk filters through in rectangular slats of light across the floors. He turns his stiff neck. The top of Kim Soleum’s head firmly presses against his side. Their maknae’s glasses are askew on the bridge of his nose. He can see the resting of his lashes, unobscured by lenses, from between strands of black hair. Most of his face is in shadow, but the space under his eyes are too dark to meld in with the rest of his skin tone.
There was just a hint of antiperspirant. It’s hard to recall but… it was similar to the one he had in Sekwang Technical High. And he had cared less at that point, but he swore there had been a faint scent Kim Soleum had used when he was masquerading as Noru. Wine? No, it was a refreshing woody scent. Maybe a cologne picked up from the department store.
Jaekwan’s palm curves under Soleum’s chin. The latter’s eyelashes tremble at the movement, and Jaekwan freezes.
Soleum crushes down on his urge to gulp. He swears, his heart’s about to come out through his throat. Several seconds elapse with his head in the grip of Jaekwan. And then, calloused hands lift his head, adjusting his neck into a more comfortable position. Jaekwan pushes his own body down, lowering his back so that his shoulder is under Kim Soleum’s cheek and his thighs are halfway off the couch cushions.
Thank god, the agent can’t feel his pulse. He hadn’t expected the scenarios to continue after the first, or even the second. Between the threat of getting shot, stabbed, and eaten, Kim Soleum had his hands full keeping the suspension of disbelief unbroken with his acting. Still, he’d let the egg distract him in [Magpie’s Nest]. It was a ghost story he’d never gain access to, not within the time he had to complete Director Ho’s project. It was a key item for countering contamination…
‘My friend, what dizzying amount of quick costume changes you underwent! Though I’d say the depth in the scenarios was lacking, I found the concept of a bleeding heart monster very interesting. I don’t know why you’d ask me to speed that one along!”
‘Thank you, Braun.” Lights out had been incredibly helpful in cutting scenes early. It had been the best decision to skip out of the role of an amorphous spirit. Look at the following setting after that! A perfectly normal summer trip. Risking minuscule bodily harm in a bike accident was so much better than being a ghost.
“Of course, my dear friend. I always look forward to how you overcome the odds.”
The agent lowers his head close until it compresses the hair on Soleum’s crown. A faint exhale brushes the scalp. Soleum furrows his brow. He shifts up, to bring his head to a more comfortable height for Jaekwan to rest on, but the agent clears his throat. From the shift of his clothes, Soleum can tell he turned away.
Something close to tension, that fear of being caught, doesn’t fade.
It’s too soon for him to wake up, so he settles against Jaekwan’s shoulder. Give it an hour, and the agent would be sure to leave or fall asleep again. Soleum smooths his fingers over his pocket where a calling card and something small, round, and glass sit. His temple rests against the bureau jacket of the agent.
And Soleum noticed this earlier, but Ryu Jaekwan tends to run warm.
Dark Exploration Records / Ghost Story
[Take 33]
: A ghost story featured in the <Dark Exploration Records>
: Daydream Inc. identification code – Qterw-C-303
The narrative utilizes the lead actor’s regrets to run a person through different, movie-esque scenarios. The runs continue until the lead actor removes unfulfilling developments and their happy ending comes true. If the actor fails to do so within the desired takes or falls out of character, the cast will be disposed of, and a new star will be chosen.