Chapter Text
You walk and walk, feet almost giving up beneath you. The birds chirped, the moon shone, the wind rustled the leaves. The dried leaves crunched under your weight, the twigs breaking and shattering. You walk farther, and farther, until the forest is just a faint outline in the horizon.
The land is barren. No trees, no pathway, just grass. Your phone isn’t working, your compass haywired. It was just your flashlight glimmering in the moonlight. There was no one to guide you.
Just the moon and the crows.
It was weird. Crows and ravens, chirping, in the middle of the night.
You gave it no thought, no indication that it bothered you. Because at the end of the day, it's just birds, nothing else.
The barren land gave away to a bridge, broken and wrecked. The river underneath was glistening in the moonlight. Fish bobbing up and down. You wanted to turn back, back towards your home, your place of comfort. But it was too late now.
Too late to stop.
You crossed the bridge, halting everytime it wobbled, everytime it creaked. However, you successfully made it to the other side without falling, without feeling the coldness and restless nature of the water consume you.
The land here was more unnerving, more uneasy. It made the hairs on your arms stand up, the back of your neck tingle. You felt a sense of being watched, a sense of being perceived.
You were close.
You started walking again. The flashlight was still in your hand, the light blinking consistently. The birds weren’t chirping anymore, the wind wasn't rustling, the leaves weren’t crunching. It felt completely empty, completely barren.
The only thing that could be heard was the soft cadence of your heartbeat.
You feel a sense of dread enter your chest. You stop and grasp the front of your shirt hard. You needed to breathe, needed to stay calm.
This was the most crucial step. If not, all this time and hard work would go to waste.
You fall down on your knees, the flashlight rolling out of your hand and clattering down on the mud. You brace yourself on your hands as you feel tears start to come.
It was as if someone was crushing you, applying pressure from all sides.
Alas! You perceive. You take your flashlight from the ground, standing up on your feet. It still felt like there was resistance from the air, but stopping now would mean admitting defeat.
You continue on, continue walking towards the god forsaken path.
You could turn back, you could return to your life before you do something irreversible.
But what fun will that be?
At last, you see it, you see the gate coming into view. It was a soft teal color, although the color was hidden under all of the rust. You run towards it, flashlight moving up and down. You collided into the gate,rattling it with the force.
You could’ve stopped, you couldn't stop.
Before you could crumble to the ground you took a hold o f one of the metal bars. You hoisted yourself straight and picked up your fallen flashlight. The gate wasn’t locked, wasn't secured in any way.
You pushed the gate open and stepped inside. Immediately, the atmosphere changed. The pressure got heavier, and the ringing in your ears increased. You felt your hand shake, convulse, shudder.
For it is in front of you,
The Eom Mansion.
It was grander than the photos, the drawings, the witness statements. The mansion was big, almost three stories tall. Moss was stuck to the walls, red stains covered the white, ropes hung from the window railings. Hence, when you looked at it, you didn't feel admiration or wonder. Instead, you felt frightened.
It harbored a sense of dread, of fear, of power.
And maybe that's why you were drawn to it more.
You slowly opened the main door and entered inside. You were immediately met with a foul stench. You scrunched your nose, cringing at it. The smell was common.
It was the smell of copper.
On the walls you could see red stains.
Blood most probably.
They didn't seem old, they weren’t black. They were red and drippy.
They were new.
Your flashlight started acting up, blinking ever so slightly. The light threatened to go out, before coming back again. You slap it a few times with your palm, trying to force the flashlight to act normal. It worked, but only for a few seconds.
You keep on walking, each step echoing throughout the halls. The foul odor seemed to increase with each step, almost unbearable now. You bring out your mask, covering your nose and mouth. You glance around the hallway, towards rooms almost invisible to the naked eye.
But one stood out.
The door was ajar, beckoning you ever closer. You enter the room with small steps, feet ever so light on the wooden floor. You look around, eyes drifting to every single crevice.
The room seemed…normal, lived in.
It didn't have the same tension like the other rooms. It felt inviting, comforting, loving almost.
It also felt wrong.
Wrong in the sense of it felt unfamiliar. Like a siren's call. Like the peace you feel before death. Like the calmness you feel before a storm. Like the false sense of security before something tragic happens.
You felt mocked.
You look towards the mirror on the side of the wall. It was a bit dark, hence you couldn't make out the outlines. You went closer to it, touching the screen with hesitant fingers. You traced your face, your nose, your cheekbones, your lips.
But were they yours?
As your eyes adjusted to the dark, you didn’t see yourself, you didn’t recognise your eyes. It was someone- something else staring back at you.
They had long hair, down to their waist. Their eyes were void of any emotions or signs that they could sense you, could sense your fear. When you looked down, you didn't see their lower half. All you could see was red rope, dangling from their waist, blood dripping from their insides. Their intestines, stomach, and liver were pooled beneath them like a shadow.
And when you looked up, you saw that instead of those unemotional irises, their eyes were glossy, like a warning.
And before your flashlight went out, you saw them cock their head and smile as black goo gushed out of their lips.
You saw her, The Rope Maiden.
You hear shuffling behind you, which was impossible considering you were alone. You dash out of the room and into the hallway, which seemingly has changed. You look towards your left, where you came from. Instead of the main door, you see an endless corridor, flooded with red, stringy blood. You look down at your feet. Invisible, as it was covered in the same blood puddle. You look to your right, also a corridor.
But this time an end could be seen.
Splashing could be heard behind you. You run to your right, towards what you have deemed was the end. You had to get out of here, fast.
“Keon- ho”
You look at the surrounding rooms. You could jump out of the windows, but they were all boarded up. You had no choice but to run forwards.
As you reach the end, you realise it wasn’t the end at all. It was a big ceremonial room, with an altar placed right at the front. The whole room was lathered in a slippery substance. You didn't need to look to guess what.
The smell of copper was heavier now, exceeding the barrier of the mask you wore.
You turned to leave, but the door was shut.
So you go towards the altar.
Or, you try.
As you try to move, you feel your hands freeze, your legs cramp, your torso stop. You look at your wrists, each one had a rope tied to it. You look at your ankles and at your torso. They were also tied with ropes.
The ropes pulled at him. Your left ankle and wrists were being pulled to the left, while your right ankle and wrist were being pulled to the right.
It dawned on you,
You were being ripped apart.
As you look up, you feel that you are not alone, not anymore.
The altar in front of you is no longer empty, no longer just filled with blood.
Her head was peeking out.
As she slowly got up, as more of her body came into view, you felt that tightening in your chest return. The one you felt all those minutes ago. But this time, it didn't feel threatening.
She came closer and closer, close enough for her nose to touch yours. At that moment, you didn't feel fear, didn’t feel panicked.
She turned her head slightly, lowering her lips down to your ear. You try to turn your neck away, however just like the rest of your body, it was also fastened to a rope.
All you could do was endure.
“You’ll come back, you always do,” she whispered as you felt your arm disconnect from your body.
Keonho woke up with a jolt. Sweat was running down his back, his white t-shirt was clinging to his body like a lifeline. He was panting, chest going up and down each second. Keonho brought up his palm to his face, rubbing it like it was nothing new. He looked around the room. It was still dark, still quiet.
Keonho groaned. You see, he has been having this goddamn nightmare every night this past month. Whenever he slept, wherever he slept, it didn't seem to go away. Was it a simple nightmare? Was it a simple ghost attachment? He didn't know!
And frankly, HE CARED.
Keonho’s no disbeliever of ghosts, he’s sensitive in fact. But that doesn't mean he goes around attracting ghosts like he’s some sort of spirit-magnet.
At first, he thought it was a trick of the mind, or maybe the atmosphere. Maybe Keonho needed to switch it up a bit. So, he rearranged his whole room. He rotated everything forty five degrees to the left. Even his bed. Keonho hoped that the change of direction would kill his nightmare demon…but instead it AMPLIFIED IT!!
The night he did that. He got sleep paralysis. Which isn't quite new to him, but it was the first time he felt like it was deliberate.
Like you know, the sleep paralysis was deliberate, like something was paralysing him, something not related to his mind.
Let me explain, Keonho that night woke up just like he did today. But this time, he could not move. He tried to turn his head, but all that turned were a few hair strands.
Not to mention, he felt something tightening around him. Not all at once though, like some parts of his body were being pulled. More specifically his wrists, torso, ankles felt like something was stretching them. And very roughly too.
His head might've been paralyzed, but his eyes weren't. Keonho frantically moved his eyes all around, trying to find anything that could help him escape this hold. And when he looked at the mirror, he saw a girl staring right back at him.
That girl.
And at that moment dear readers, Keonho realised he was being haunted.
After that, he obviously couldn't be comfortable by himself. Why was this happening to him anyways?? Yes he went ghost hunting with Martin when they were like… 13-14ish, but Keonho cleansed himself right after. Martin’s the one who didn't, so why is he the one getting followed by a ghost?
Shouldn’t Martin be the one being followed by ghost girls??
Seems not.
Keonho’s gay goddamn it!! what will this pretty ghost girl get out of haunting him anyways??
Not anything romantic, that's for sure.
Anyways, after the whole “sleep paralysis” situation, Keonho searched for a shaman. Someone who specialized in ghost stuff, Spirit stuff.
The problem was that his parents didn't believe that “crap”.
If they knew he was planning on going to a shaman, he would've had to say goodbye to hanging out with his friends.
And it's not like Keonho could hide the fact he was going to a shaman either. Unless he could deactivate the tracker on his phone or something. But bro's no hacker. Bro is barely passing by in math.
So, for the past month, Keonho’s been being tortured by a ghost in his dreams.
Keonho slowly got up on his two feet. His back ached, and his feet were like jelly. He literally had to wobble to the light switch. He turned it on with efficiency, watching the glow of it fill the room.
He squinted at the light. It was too bright, too glowy you know what I mean?? It took a while for Keonho's eyes to adjust. But after a while, his eyes finally got used to the blinding light surrounding him.
It didn't mean he liked it though.
He hated fake light. Either you're gonna have natural sunlight tanning your skin, or no light at all. Hypocrite ass.
Whatever man.
Keonho moved over to his nightstand, where two bottles of water were placed. One for consumption, one for wetting himself. His feet were still wobbling, moving around like it was made of flimsy sticks.
He made his way over to it, slowly bracing himself on the edge of his table. He gripped one of the water bottles, opening it with the force of a thousand hands. Keonho started chugging down the water so fast you could hear the water hit the pit of his stomach.
In about a minute, the whole water bottle was empty. Not even one single droplet was left. Keonho may love water, but chugging a half litre in like 39 seconds is aquasexual behaviour.
He's a homo, not an aquo.
He grabbed the other water bottle and popped it open. A lot of water got sprayed all over the place, but Keonho couldn't give a damn. He was about to make it worse anyways. Keonho raised the bottle above his head and poured all of its contents on his hair, feeling it drench and coat him in its coldness.
He felt calmer now, almost at peace. The wobbling in his legs had stopped, and his whole body felt like human flesh again. Keonho knew water calmed him down, and he knew he liked the feel of it. Then why did it take him so long to figure out that splashing yourself with water helped his nightmare jitters?
And most importantly, why did Martin give him that idea? Bro’s a colossal titan who wears pants on his ankles. What good advice can he give?!
Keonho plopped down on his bed once again, chest facing the ceiling. He rubbed his face with both of his hands, massaging away the sleep. He needs to stay up, or else the nightmare starts again and he pisses himself in fear.
Not like it had happened or anything.
Keonho turned to his side, taking his phone from under his pillow. He was listening to a soothing rain playlist. Keonho licked his lips and moaned, thinking of it already made him smell the fresh scent of the earth. He hummed as he unlocked his phone, scrolling through Instagram. He liked posts, listened to some songs that popped up on his reels, and most importantly commented meaningless ragebait comments on random people's posts.
Ragebait, not actual offensive stuff.
In the middle of his ragebait train, his view got blocked by a notification;
Girlmagnet: keonho u up?
Ugh.
Keonho swiftly swished it away, resuming his activity. But, it seems like Martin couldn't read the room.
Girlmagnet: brodie pleaseee
Keonho rolled his eyes. Martin has always been like this, never knowing when to stop texting. Obviously Keonho doesn't want to talk, so why is Martin still texting him? Keonho let out a long dejected sigh, clicking on the notification. It's better to entertain him and make him satisfied than letting Martin keep annoying him with his messages.
Ghostmagnet:
what
Girlmagnet:
why r u awake?
Ghostmagnet:
I had a nightmare
Girlmagnet:
the ghost one?
Ghostmagnet:
hmm
Girlmagnet:
damn dude, sucks
Ghostmagnet:
👍
Ghostmagnet:
if you dnt have anything to say please stop pestering me
Girlmagnet:
no no ii like have meanningful thing to talk about
Ghostmagnet:
is it about girks cause if that's yhe case im clicking off
Girlmagnet:
It's not girls.
Ghostmagnet:
ITS NOT??
WISTH YOUR TRACK RECIRD GURLS AOULDVE BEEN THE MOST I VIOUS ANSWER
SERIOUSLY??
Girlmagnet:
…yes
Ghostmagnet:
Wait
brb
this is a historical moment
let me frame it rq
im back
what is this aabout
Girlmagnet:
a guy
Ghostmagnet:
Hollup
‘Ghostmagnet’ has changed ‘Girlmagnet’’s name to “whoremagnet”
Whoremagnet:
EXCUSE ME-
Ghostmagnet:
you were THIS 🤏 CLOSE
IS IT SO HARD TO NOT LIKE ANYBODY??6
Whoremagnet:
hear me out, please
Ghostmagnet:
no
And with that Keonho clicked off of the chat. He hates whenever Martin comes to him with girl or in this case, boy problems. Each day it's someone new. Each day it's “oh my gosh she's so pretty I wanna-” blah blah blah dumbass, I don't wanna know.
Keonho turned off his phone. Martin ruined his mood to ragebait. Ragebaiting is an art and this type of art can not be forced. It has to come naturally. And his flow state has been interrupted by Martin the bi-guy.
He rubbed his eyelids, feeling it stretch and squish under his touch. When he opened his eyes again, everything seemed too bright. The rubbing had affectedly blinded Keonho. He looked around, everything's still there, but his eyes were almost vibrating.
Keonho closed his eyes again, feeling it quiet down. He kept his eyelids down, feeling it slowly turn hard. Keeping it shut for a few moments won't hurt, Keonho thought. It's just to keep the eyes relaxed.
And when that relaxation turns into unconsciousness, who will be there to awake him?
Keonho felt the moistness of mud soaking through his clothes, wetting the skin underneath. He got back up and padded away some of the mud from his clothes. Keonho ran to the edge of the mansion, where a certain boy was peeking out the window.
The boy let down a bundle of curtains, tied tightly at the ends. Keonho used it to climb up, jumping over the window rail.
“Are you alright?” The boy asked, bending down on his knees. He brought up a hand to Keonho’s cheek, caressing it gently with his thumb. Keonho brought up his hand and cupped the boy's hands, pushing his cheek into the comfort of his palms, “I'm alright.”
“Are you sure? You hit the ground pretty hard.”
Keonho smiled, “it's a small price to pay if I want to see you.” He got up on his feet as the boy moved away to grant him space. The boy stared at him for a while, his eyes glistening with something close to tears. He came a step closer, hands tucked away neatly at his sides.
“May I hug you?”
Keonho nodded. “Who said you needed permission?” he assured the boy. Keonho gathered him up in his arms as the boy reciprocated the affection. He brought up his arms around Keonho's shoulders, squeezing him so hard that Keonho could barely breathe. He coughed a bit, but hugged him harder nonetheless. After a few minutes the hug loosened. Just enough for both of them to breathe, but deep enough for them to still feel each other's pulse.
Keonho held on to the boy's waist with both of his hands as the boy guided his own fingers to encircle Keonho’s neck. It was midnight, the only light being the sun's light reflected off of the moon. The rustling of the leaves and crickets offered a slow cadence, an honest invitation to those who heard it.
They swayed to the beat, a quiet dance in the privacy of their room. Where no one could see them, where no one knew of them. Just Keonho and the boy, the crickets, and the steady rhythm of their heartbeats.
The boy tilted his head up, his eyes wet and his lips plump. “May I kiss you?” He asked, with a voice so small it was almost imperceptible.
But Keonho’ll always hear him, even when he's hiding.
He didn't answer, instead Keonho tilted his head down. Slow enough for the boy to back away if he needed to. However, the boy didn't move. Instead, he got on his toes, his lips gently grazing Keonho’s.
The kiss went as fast as it came.
The boy got down on his feet, his cheeks a pretty shade of crimson. He smiled shyly, as if that kiss took all of his bravery to do.
Keonho brought a hand up to the back of the boy's neck, tilting his head upwards towards him. Keonho leaned down and brushed a soft kiss beneath his left eye, right on the mole. He left a trail of kisses going downwards, stopping to the side of his lips.
He bit down gently on the skin, just enough to elicit a reaction. The boy whimpered, his hands coming up to grasp Keonho's shirt. Keonho stopped his kisses and looked down at the boy, his eyes filled with admiration.
The boy was looking up at him with a gaze close enough to devotion, love, dependance. And Keonho loved it, loved the feeling of being someone who the boy could lean on, could trust.
“Don't hold back,” Keonho breathed, bending down to capture the boy's lips once again.
And the boy obliged. He reciprocated the kiss, kissing him back with equal, if not more hunger. Their lips pressed onto each other. He sucked on Keonho's lower lip, tasting the faint sweetness of cherries.
The kiss went on for minutes, hours even. But they couldn't tell, too concentrated on each other to care.
At one point Keonho had the boy pinned to the bed, the boy’s legs wrapped around his waist. The kiss deepened as Keonho's tongue penetrated the boy's mouth. The boy softly moaned, the sound being synonymous with music in Keonho's ears.
Keonho would've gone further, but he stopped himself right before anything drastic happened. He let go off of the boy's lips, watching him as he took deep breaths, face crimson.
“Are you okay?” Keonho asked.
The boy nodded, still panting. He took a hold of Keonho's shoulders and dragged him down. Keonho's nose crashed into the crook of the boy's neck, but he didn't care. Keonho let his whole body fall on the boy, crushing him under the weight. The boy groaned, his arms coming up to circle Keonho's back.
Moments passed, but the only sound that could be heard was the steady beats of their heart.
“We can't keep doing this,” the boy whispered into his ear, voice filled with emotion. Keonho tried to get up and glance at him, but the boy didn't let him. He pressed Keonho even closer, rendering him immoveable. “I can't keep seeing you at midnight like you're some secret to be ashamed of.”
“Are you ashamed of me?” Keonho asked, voice muffled.
“No! Never!” The boy cried, his voice cracking at the end. “It's just,” he whispered, “I want to be free with you, love you with no repercussions.”
“But, we can't do that here. Not now, not ever.” he added after a beat.
Keonho closed his eyes as he felt the tears start prickling. He breathed into the boy's shoulder, the vein in his neck visible from too much strain.
“I know,” Keonho answered, “i want to, too”
“But, we're still too young. I don't have a basic income, I don't have any way to support us if we do run away. Or leave.” Keonho admitted. He turned his head towards the boy, watching him bite his lower lip as he managed the tears in his eyes. “In the future, we WILL be together, okay?” Keonho reassured him.
And maybe if they were both gullible they would've believed that.
They knew, in this time and place, they could never be together. They could never love each other freely, the way they longed to.
The grip the boy had on Keonho's back loosened, and Keonho gently lowered himself beside the boy. Keonho was lying on his side, staring at the boy's side profile. The boy on the other hand was looking up at the ceiling, his eyes bloodshot.
“What if we don't get a future?” he whispered.
Keonho looked at him through hooded eyes,”excuse me?”
“The people outside my room-” the boy croaked, tears slowly cascading down his cheeks. He couldn't hold them back anymore, and frankly he didn't need to. “My family, I heard them talking about something they're gonna do tomorrow, regarding me,” He let out between sobs. “What if- what if that thing renders me unable to see you?”
‘Seonghyeon, everything will be alrig-”
“You don't know that,” Seonghyeon gritted through his cheeks. He sniffled, his voice sounding more vulnerable than anything before. “What if they do something Keonho?” He asked. “What if I never see you again?”
Keonho reached for Seonghyeon's cheek, thumb messaging it sweetly. “I will never let that happen, not now, not ever.”
Seonghyeon let the tears fall for quite a while, until he could sense that there were no more tears left. He looked at Keonho, who was holding him throughout his pain, his sadness. But Keonho didn't look alright either. He had droplets falling from his eyes, soaking the bed sheet below.
Seonghyeon turned his whole body sideways, facing Keonho. They both weren't alright, but it was unfair that Keonho had to be strong and hide his pain. Seonghyeon pulled Keonho inwards, Keonho’s face now pressed against Seonghyeon's chest. “Keonho,” he called, his voice trying to offer any resemblance to comfort.
And that was all Keonho needed.
He let the tears fall, let the tears soak Seonghyeon's shirt. He enveloped Seonghyeon's waist, pulling him closer.
“I'm scared,” Keonho admitted, voice muffled against Seonghyeon's chest. “I know there's nothing to do, and it terrifies me.”
Seonghyeon didn't answer, and didn't offer comfort through his words. His comfort was provided through the small circles he was rubbing against Keonho’s back, and the inviting warmth his body provided.
“I feel like I am failing you Seonghyeon,” Keonho whimpered, his voice cracking. Seonghyeon kissed the top of his forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment too long.
“You are not, Keonho,” Seonghyeon said, voice absolute. “You have your own battles, but at the end of the day, you're still here,
“How are you failing me if you are here covered in my warmth?”
“Still-”
“I love you Keonho.” Seonghyeon confessed, face hidden behind Keonho's head. “No matter what happens, or what we face, I'll always love you.”
And I hope that in the near future, or even in another life,” he muttered, “I can love you without fear.”
“Don't feel like you are doing less than what you could do. We both know the circumstance, we both know the outcome. Don't beat yourself up over something that's written in the fates. I still love you, that's enough.”
Keonho's ragged breathing had ceased, replaced with something more…permanent, calm. He was still crying, but it no longer felt heavy. Keonho pulled Seonghyeon even closer, shoving his face deeper into Seonghyeon's chest. “I love you, too,” Keonho replied back. His voice was still laced with something close to regret, but the small tinge of hope overcame all of it.
“I love you so much it hurts. It hurts so much.”
“I know, Keonho.”
“And I can't do anything-”
“You're here, that's all that matters.”
“And if it's not enough?”
“It is enough,” Seonghyeon whispered into Keonho's hair. “It will be enough, because your comfort is all I need in this messed up, hellish world.”
…
A beat passed. The crickets were louder now, maybe they were filling up the emptiness in the air. Keonho and Seonghyeon stayed cuddled together, their shared warmth providing a place words could not.
And if Keonho knew that would be the last time he would ever see Seonghyen, he would've cherished the moment even more.
“So your nightmare changed?”
“Yes.”
Martin rubbed his face, his tray of food gathering dust in front of him. One hand was up to his face, while another was holding a small carton of chocolate milk. Martin took a sip, “isn’t that good then?”
Keonho groaned. He drooped down on his chair, looking up at the ceiling. His box of home made lunch was empty in front of him. Because unlike Martin, Keonho needs the protein to grow. “Probably not.” Keonho answered.
Martin took another sip of his chocolate milk, “why?”
“Isnt it weird?” Keonho whispered. He leaned forwards, cupping his hand around his mouth. “The fact that all of a sudden my dream changed? Especially since I have been having the same nightmare for the last month!!!”
“i mean-”
“Martin, “ Keonho muttered, “I am being haunted.”
“How do you know?.”
Keonho stared at him for a few minutes. This spike headed dumbass. There's no way he just asked how Keonho knew. Of course he did, he's sensitive. Oh my god. Here they are, sitting in the cafeteria, talking about nightmares, and ghosts. And Martin asked how? Did God give him a brain? Did God provide him with any sense of rationality or intelligence??
Keonho doesn't think so.
“Idk, “ he gritted through his teeth. “Probably cause we went ghost haunting all those years ago.”
“Then shouldn't I be the one getting haunted?”
“Martin,” Keonho dejectedly sighed, “you know I am sensitive to ghosts.” And it's true. There's a reason Keonho believes in ghosts and Martin doesn't… Why is he still friends with him again?
“Man whateve- JUHOON!!” Martin shrieked from across the cafeteria. He waved his hand, probably to signal where he was. But, Keonho found no importance in waving. With Martin’s massive head anyone could see them from a mile away.
“Where’s James Hyung?" Keonho asked as soon as Juhoon sat across from him. He hung his bag on the chair, leaning his head towards Martin’s shoulder. “Food from the cafeteria,” Juhoon answered with the same indifference he had to everything. He wasn't bad or unemotional per se, he just wasn’t someone who expressed emotions freely. Keonho nodded, that tracked. James Hyung always finds an excuse to eat anything from the cafeteria.
“Heyyyyyy” James called out in a sing-song voice as he came to the table. He placed his tray of radioactive food beside Keonho. He kicked Keonho's bag away from the extra chair and took a seat. He was two years older than Keonho, as he’ll give his CSAT exams next year. Keonho still has two more years till his CSAT. Why James’ here entertaining them rather than studying is beyond Keonho.
“Heyyyyy” Keonho replied back. His tone took on a sweet honeylike smoothness to counter James’ sing-song voice. He got glared at by James for a few seconds, but eh, it was worth it.
“So what’s new?”
“I had a dream-”
“I like a guy.” Martin cut Keonho off. Keonho’s mouth hung wide open, the shadow of what he was going to say lingering on his tongue. He closed his eyes, the tips of his ears taking on a pretty shade of red. It’s okay, Keonho thought to himself, later, I'll tell them later.
James screeched, “YOU’RE KIDDING ME?” he asked, astonished. He practically jumped out of his seat in excitement. With a look that said, ‘ Martin, gay?’ Martin shook his head, “I'm really not.”
“Who is it?”
Martin bit his lower lip. Disgusting. “Umm, “ Martin said, his voice suddenly losing its confidence from earlier. “I don't actually know his name.”
“Bruh, “ Juhoon groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I CAN EXPLAIN HIM TO YOU!!” Martin tried to salvage, his palm facing forwards. “He’s in James Hyung’s batch.”
James inhaled his soup, accidentally coughing in between swallows. “That helps,” he answered, bringing out his phone.
“Okay, “ Martin began, “he’s hot and he dances.”
“That's everybody,” Keonho replied, not looking up. He wasn’t staring at them, or at their eyes. His line of sight wasn’t anywhere significant for the people at the table. He was staring at Juhoon’s blazer. The only reason he answered is because he’s good at multitasking.
Because for Keonho, Juhoon’s blazer wasn't ordinary.
Juhoons blazer had ‘eom’ written on it.
Coincidence? He thinks not.
Is this a sign from the universe? First a mansion named Eom, then a dream about a boy who lives in said mansion, and now Juhoon’s blazer?
Should Keonho ask him about it?
“Keonho.”
He should. But, what if Juhoon thinks he’s a weirdo or a freak? Juhoon probably won’t, but the thought still lingered. Nobody besides Martin actually knows what the nightmare is about. If Juhoon knew,then it would've been easier. But, he doesn't though-
“KEONHO!!”
“Uhu? What-"Keonho asked, his voice cracking at the end. He brought up a hand to his throat, pinching it with nonchalance. Everybody was staring at him, their eyes showing the common view of worry. Or in Martin’s case, amusement. “Sorry, zoned out.” Keonho whispered, voice even this time.
Looks like he gave himself too much credit.
“Yeah we could tell,” Juhoon replied, picking french fries from Martin’s tray.
“Anyways, “ James cleared his throat, “Martin likes Ni-Ki.”
But the Eom mansion isn't real, so why is it plaguing him- NI-KI????
SCREW THE EOM MANSION, THAT CAN WAIT. MARTIN LIKES NI-KI?
“NI-KI HYUNG??” Keonho screamed as he got up from his seat. The feet of the chair scraped the tiles, the sound colliding with the sound of Keonho’s ragged breaths. He pointed a finger at Martin, “NI-KI HYUNG??”
“Well, tell it to the whole world don't you?” Martin hissed.
Huh
“HEY EVERYBODY, MARTIN LIKES NI-” Keonho tried to say, but not before Martin threw his empty carton of chocolate milk at him. It hit Keonho right between the gaps in his eyebrows. But, he didn't care. In fact he smiled, Keonho deserved it anyways. Keonho sat back down on his chair, pulling it forwards.
“I’m sorry,” Keonho muttered with mock guilt,"I should not have done that.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“But, bro, Ni-Ki Hyung is not looking at you,” Keonho decided, choosing to act like he didn't hear what Martin said.
Martin groaned in his chair, "I know," he grumbled.
“That’s good.”
“But, still.”
No.
No.
Keonho is not doing this.
And thankfully he didn't need to . Because right when Martin was opening his mouth to spout some more Ni-Ki glaze, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.
Thank god.
Keonho got up, picking his bag pack from the floor. “I'll be in our classroom,” he announced. “It’s Ms.Young’s exam right now, I am not wasting a single second.”
“Keonho wait-”
Keonho didn't stop, didn’t look back. He turned and walked away, flipping Martin the bird just in case.
The exam went well. Decent i guess. Keonho didn’t really know. All he knew was that he probably answered a question wrong which would result in him getting a B and risking his academic comeback. Man, Keonho’s gonna cry.
They only had like three classes today. The other four were “rescheduled” to Saturday because the principal wanted to give the student an off-day. Just more work on a day meant to relax. Good initiative, not so good execution.
Keonho walked back home. The exam had taken a toll on him. And with Juhoon’s blazer and with the nightmare changing, Keonho was practically drained. His feet were steady, a slow rhythm accompanying him. He had swim practice in about two hours. All he could do till then was lie in his bed and think.
Water has always been something Keonho was fascinated with. Water had a feel to it, a nostalgia Keonho can’t place. It always made him feel at home no matter where he was. The way it contorted around his body, the way its weight pulled Keonho down, he loved it. He adored it. It was never something normal or ordinary for Keonho. Water had always meant something.
How can such a mesmerising liquid, which you can find anywhere by the way, be the beacon of life? Not to mention frozen water is less dense than actual liquid water. In other cases it is the exact opposite. It acted in unordinary ways, guided in hypnotic ways.
In no time Keonho reached home, the front door unlocked. He entered inside, placing shoes inside the cupboard. “EOMMA, I AM HOME,” Keonho announced. Ms.Ahn came waltzing out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. “This early?” she enquired, a hint of suspicion in her voice.
Keonho smiled at her warmly, “school gave us a day off.” he replied. He placed his bag on the back of the chair, hanging his jacket on the rack infront of the door. Mrs.Ahn breathed out a sigh of relief, her eyes brightening up instantly.
Mrs.Ahn pinched her son’s cheeks, “Aw, i knew you wouldn’t be the one to skip school !!” she cooed, fingers tightening around Keonho's cheeks even more. “Mom, mom, stop !” Keonho tried. He unsuccessfully tried to pry her hands away, but a son’s strength is no match for his mother’s.
After a few minutes of manhandling Keonho, Mrs.Ahn finally let go of her son. She was still smiling so sweetly. Maybe, she was the one who gave Keonho his joy disease. Who knows?
“Well, good that you’re here, “ she said, heading back into the kitchen. “I made some Dak-galbi.” Mrs.Ahn paused for a moment, "I normally would’ve waited for your father to come home. But, he will be late today. And Dak-Galbi’s better when hot anyways.” By that time she fully entered the kitchen, her mumbles lost to the wind.
Keonho pulled up his sleeve, revealing his forearm. Although Dak-Galbi wasn’t his favourite, he still liked it. It was the perfect dish to unravel with after a long day.
And Keonho had a long day, alright!!
He headed over to the dining room. Keonho’s house wasn't big, but it was spacious enough for four people and a dog to live in comfortably. Keonho went over to the cabinet beside the kitchen door, where all of their cooking and dining utensils were kept. His sister was out with Cookie to the vet, Keonho’s dad was out at work. So, two charger plates. Keonho picked two small charger plates; one for the lettuce and one for the Ssamjang. Along with that he picked up two pairs of metal chopsticks, one for himself and another one for his mom.
Keonho placed the two charger plates on the middle right and middle left of the table, just enough space for the skillet to fit. Keonho went over to the sink to rinse the chopsticks just as his mother arrived with the Dak-Galbi. Its aroma filled the air, occupying the whole room with its sweet smell.
Keonho grinned to himself. He shook off some of the excess water from the chopsticks and handed a pair to his mother. Mrs.Ahn gladly took the chopsticks and sat on a chair, Keonho following soon after.
As soon as his mother took a bite out of the Dak-Galbi filled lettuce wrap, Keonho dug in. Keonho forgot about all of his suffering and pain as soon as the smooth, sweet and savoury taste unraveled itself in his mouth. In seemingly no time, he forgot about Martin’s crush, the Eom mansion, Juhoon’s blazer etcetera. All he could think about was how glad he was that he got such a loving mother such as Mrs.Ahn.
Juhoon didn’t mean to spy on Keonho. Well, spying isn’t the right word, more like accidentally observing for a long period of time. The only reason he even went to the school's pool room is because James left his sandals there.
Don't ask Juhoon why.
But, thank god he did, because if not, Keonho may have reached heaven the normal and ordinary way. The way dead people do.
At first when he saw Keonho floating in the water, Juhoon didn't think much of it.
Water was always Keonho’s way of winding down, of clearing his mind. And he has made that apparent many times. The amount of times Keonho has crashed out on them for disturbing his water time is crazy. So, seeing Keonho half-dead in the water didn’t feel at all concerning.
Still, Juhoon stayed.
Keonho was lying on the water's surface on his back with his cheeks puffed up. Presumably to stay afloat. Why, Juhoon doesn’t know. Just because he’s a man of few words doesn't mean the few words he says are of any use. People just like categorising hot people into groups.
James’ sandals were in his hand. Obviously he was holding on to the toe strap, no way in hell is he letting the bottom of the shoe touch his palm. They were dangling from Juhoon’s fingers, swinging left and right. Juhoon had his eyes set on Keonho, whose face was slowly deflating.
That can’t be good right?
And slowly, Juhoon learned that it was in fact not right. Keonho’s body started to sink downwards. Not in a sudden way, more of a slow, calculating way. Where even the universe was testing how long he could stay afloat. If Keonho doesn't wake up in the next 15 seconds, bro’s dead.
But what if this is normal??
Not it isn’t, Juhoon chided himself. There's no way sinking to the bottom of any field of water is good. No way. He brought his unoccupied hand to his mouth, cupping the edge of his lips. “KEONHO!!” he screamed.
Keonho didn’t wake up.
“KEONHO!”
No answer.
Ten seconds left now.
What is Juhoon going to do now? He hates the water. He may be good at a lot of things, but swimming isn’t one of them. The water absolutely terrifies him. So, going down to the water and rescuing Keonho isn’t an option.
If only he could hit him with something.
…
Huh,
Juhoon looked down at James’ sandals. They were made out of leather. So, it's ideal to keep them from getting wet as much as possible. But, Keonho’s gonna die and James’ leather sandals are ugly anyways. There isn't anything at hand that he could throw at Keonho. So, James' sandals have to be sacrificed.
Eight seconds left.
Juhoon brought the sandals up to his face, creating hopefully enough momentum to hit Keonho hard. He angled them, trying to see what position would allow them to hit Keonho’s face better, the harder and better it hits, the more likely Keonho is to wake up.
Once Juhoon found a good position, he counted down from three.
Three,
A deep inhale.
Two,
I’m sorry, hyung
One,
SPLASH!
“AH!”
Keonho slowly bobbed back up, the hit placing a red mark on Keonho’s face. Both of James' sandals went in different directions, floating amidst the rippling water. “WHAT THE HELL, HYUNG?” Keonho screamed, swimming to the edge of the pool. His eyes were wide open, his lips slightly parted.
“I saved you, you ungrateful brat!” Juhoon replied back. “You were literally sinking over there!” he heaved, his palms pointing towards the middle of the pool.
Keonho blinked. He whipped his head towards the middle of the pool, where ripples were still prominent. He saw James’ sandals floating on opposite ends, the whole leather soaked. “Oh,” Keonho muttered, his eyes stuck on the pool, “well, thanks in that case.”
Juhoon rolled his eyes, he brought up his finger to his eyebrows, massaging them with irritation. “That’s all? You know what, I don't want to hear anything.” he muttered. Juhoon does not want to deal with Keonho right now. He saved him, that's all that matters. Expecting Keonho to say thank you is just being delusional.
Keonho gave a small grin, "I'll thank you later, let me get up first.”
Fine.
They were sitting near the pool’s edge, legs crossed. Well, Juhoon’s was at least. Keonho’s were dangling off the edge, disturbing the pool water’s smooth surface. The sun outside reached an intense yellow color, the color right before the coolness of the afternoon air sets in. James’ sandals were beside Juhoon, placed there so that the water dried. Both of them were panting heavily, both for different reasons.
Keonho had his gaze set on the pool’s floor, where the quiet blue color faded into something more dark, more terrifying. He was so close to dying today. If Juhoon wasn't here, wasn’t there to save him, then maybe Keonho wouldn't be here breathing.
They were alone now. Alone together. Not in a romantic way, more so a platonic way, where both of them understood and loved each other. But not the way others thought. The silence between them wasn't awkward. Wasn't ill placed. The silence felt inviting, where both parties knew that some time was needed.
And Juhoon understood that very well.
Juhoon hasn't been an old person at school. In fact, he transferred a little over a year ago. So, to Juhoon everyone was new. At school, Keonho was the first person who actually came out to talk to him. He was the first person who made Juhoon feel welcomed. Maybe that's why Juhoon always feels like it is his duty to keep Keonho safe.
At the end of the day, he is still Juhoon’s dongsaeng.
And Keonho understood that. He understood that Juhoon loved him. The way an older brother loved his younger sibling. He knew, whenever Juhoon acted over protective, yelled at him, or just kept an eye on him, it was just Juhoon’s way of caring.
And honestly? Keonho wouldn’t have it any other way.
He’s the youngest child in a family of four. He is the youngest person in their friend group. Everywhere he went, he got babied. He got loved in a way that made other people jealous. And Keonho likes it, he likes the attention. He loves the way Juhoon cares for him at school. He loves how Juhoon acts as a legitimate older brother.
And, as an older brother, Keonho’s allowed to ask him whatever, right?
Specifically about his sweater.
Keonho cleared his throat, “hey, Juhoon hyung?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I ask you something?”
Juhoon looked up. He turned his head towards Keonho, who was looking at him with something close to caution. Juhoon gave him one of his rare smiles, one that expressed genuinity, compassion. “Sure, what’s up?”
Keonho glanced around. How should he phrase this? Obviously he can’t straight up ask him ‘why did your blazer have ‘Eom’ written on it?’ Neither can he be all nonchalant and ask, “your blazer cool cuh, but why the blazer have ‘Eom’ on it?” He has to be very cautious at this. They're alone right now, he can’t mess this up. If he does, when will he get this chance again?
“So, umm,” Keonho coughed, “you know your blazer?”
“My only one?” Juhoon asked, squinting his eyes, “the one with ‘eom’ written on it?”
“That’s your only one-”
“Yes,” Juhoon interrupted. “what about it?” he asked, wiggling his fingers, signaling Keonho to continue.
Keonho shook his head, “umm, so, uh, why does your blazer have ‘Eom’ written on it?”
…
A quiet moment arose.
And that moment got broken by a loud cackling laughter.
Juhoon…was laughing, hysterically.
Did- Did Keonho say something funny? To Keonho, this is not a funny subject.
Oh no, did Keonho bunk it?
Juhoon was still laughing. He wistfully wiped tears from his eyes, gasping for air, “Did- were you that scared to ask me about my blazer?” he heaved between breaths.
“You know what? Forget it!” Keonho sulked.
“No, no,” Juhoon replied, a smile still plastered on his face, “i’ll tell you, i’ll tell you.”
Keonho didn’t reply. He was grateful that Juhoon cared enough to answer, but was the historical laughter needed?
Juhoon turned his whole body towards Keonho. He sat in a way that his front view was Keonho’s side while his back was facing James’ sandals. “Okay,” Juhoon began, “the blazer is merch of a legend.”
“Legends have merch?”
“This one does,” Juhoon answered, “anyways, the legend is that a long long time ago, there was a family called ‘The Eoms’”
“Spooky,” Keonho dumbfounded.
“And they were tasked with keeping a demon sealed.” he whispered, ignoring Keonho’s remarks. “And the only way they could do that is by brutally murdering and sacrificing a virgin every fifty years.”
“Man, what is up with sacrificing virgin’s dude,”
“I don’t know, I guess they want that fresh blood.”
Keonho gagged- “that’s just- ew”
Juhoon rolled his eyes, “But, being a virgin is not the only thing that matters.” he continued. “Another factor comes into play. The virgin must have no connection with the outside world.”
“And how did they do that? By locking her in a room?”
Juhoon creepily smiled, a hint of recognition masking his features, “yes.”
Keonho blinked, “oh…”
“One day, when sacrificing the virgin, the ritual didn’t work. It was later found out that the virgin had been seeing a man. Hence, she had a connection to the outside world.”
“How was she meeting the man?”
“Some say he was probably sneaking in through the window or something.”
“ ‘or something’ “
Juhoon sighed, rolling his eyes. “So, because the virgin wasn’t pure. Since the ritual didn't work, the priest- who was doing the sacrificing by the way- killed everybody in that family and then-” Juhoon slowly dragged his hand across his throat, tilting his head to the side, “offed himself.”
Keonho winced, “and what happened to the boy?”
“Some say he got killed, some say he ran away.” Juhoon replied. “We just don't know.” He smiled, Seemingly content with ruining Keonho’s already- bad day
Well, Keonho did bring that upon himself.
“So that's it?” He questioned, “that's the legend?”
“Well, yeah-”
“There are so many better legends out there,” Keonho scoffed. And it's true. This Eom mansion legend just seems like a cheap knockoff of other much better legends. Keonho doesn't know which one but it still feels like one. “Why couldn't they make merch of a much better legend?”
“What? Like the Kuchisake onna?”
“Uh, no?”Keonho denied. “I don't know which one, but still not this one.”
Juhoon sighed. “Well, technically, the merch isn't of this legend.”
What?
Keonho stared at Juhoon for a few seconds. What does he mean the merch isn't about this legend? Did Juhoon just troll him? What the hell is going on? Keonho's eyes were squinted, his whole face expressing his confusion.
“Well, it is, but it also isn't.” Juhoon answered. He brought his arm to scratch his clothed knee, feeling the bone. “The legend inspired a game. ‘Fatal Frame 1’ I think. And the merch is from that game. But since it's basically the legend just retold, I have accepted it as merch of a legend.”
“So, you lied?”
“Woah woah woah,” Juhoon muttered. He closed his eyes as his hand came in front of him. Juhoon waved them around, as if to shoo away the false conviction,”Lying is a strong word. I just told you what I believed.”
“Which was false?”
“Well-” Juhoon tried. He looked up at the ceiling, trying to figure something out. But alas! He gave up. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Cool, cool, cool.”
“The legend’s still true right?”
“Oh yea yeah yeah.”
Please buy Keonho a new phone. Could be a burner, could be an Iphone 17 pro max. All he wants is a new phone. His current phone isn't broken mind you, the thing is, HE CAN’T GO ANYWHERE WITHOUT BENG TRACKED.
Keonho also needs to go to a shaman. Or a spiritual specialist. He can’t though, BECAUSE HIS PARENTS WILL BEAT HIS ASS IF THEY FIND OUT.
He also can’t go without a phone because if something happens to him, how will he call for help? He isn't screaming, that’s for sure.
Keonho groaned into his pillow, the sound muffled by the fabric. He doesn’t want to go to sleep, because, you know, nightmares. He also doesn't want to stay awake, because if he does, he will literally be sucked into a nightmare-overthinking-blackhole and not be able to get out.
AHHHHH THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING. WHY DID THE GODS CURSE HIM LIKE THIS?? AHHHHHH
Everything sucks, everything is against him, Keonho is miserable.
Keonho brought up his phone. He opened it, the bright light illuminating the dark room. “Oh god,” Keonho muttered as he turned the brightness down as he blinked away the white spots. He opened up Safari. What was the legend again? Oh yeah, Eom mansion.
He quickly typed that into the search bar, waiting to see the results.
Creepy Folklore Wiki
https://creepy-folklore.fancom.com …
The Eom Mansion- Creepy Folklore Wiki
In the barren, secluded forest in the South Korea countryside, a home stood. A place so haunting, it keeps no one alive. Read more
The Ghost In My Heart
https://theghostinmyheart.com …
A Tale as Old as Time- The Sacrifices of Little Girls<
For hundreds of years, little girls have been sacrificed in Korea's infamous Eom Mansion. When the blood of these children are weighted, will the weight of doing the right thing overcome it?
Read more
Reddit ~ r/fatalframe
89+ comments ~ 5 days ago
Has anyone actually finished the eom mansion setting without cryin …
I have. And i hated it. everything was too scary, gang. I didnt cryu, but i fosho was pissing myself bro. What is wrong with them… Read more.
Land of Secrets- Korea
https://helpmelearncultures.com …
The Eom Mansion and the People Who Visited It
Plenty of people have claimed to have visited this infamous mansion. A mansion filled with despair. Now, according to these firsthand experiences, what is this mansion actually like? Read more
Hollup, first hand experiences?
Thats…helpful.
It could be wrong, or fake. But Keonho’s very desperate right now. He’ll take wherever is given to him, even if it’s scraps. And, something is better than nothing.
Right?
Keonho scrolled for a moment. Quite a while actually. He had to skip through almost 2 pages of what the Eom mansion was. He should read them, but he’s here for the experiences, not anything else.
He probably should but…whatever man.
Okay, so here’s what Keonho has gathered from his “hours” of research:
- Nobody has gone to the Eom Mansion more than once.
- The Eom mansion teleports. As in, nobody has seen it in the same place.
- You can’t find it if it doesn't want you to.
- Every single person who has seen the Eom mansion has been in their teens to early twenties.
- Every single person who somehow survived the Eom mansion, died on their fifth day of recovery.
- The survivors often talked about the sensation of being pulled in different directions.
But, for some reason, none of them had gotten a dream about said mansion. They knew about it, were intrigued by it, but they didn't have a DREAM about it. Out of everyone who survived, none of them dreamt of it.
And guess who did, Keonho.
This was really bad for him. Not because he didn't get what he wanted, no. In fact he got more than he bargained for. The thing is, almost everything makes it seem like Keonho’s about to be the next victim.
Is he in his teens? Yes.
Does the mansion want Keonho? Probably.
Did he have marks on his limbs that were formed because his limbs were being pulled in different directions? Yes, no doubt about it.
Is he being haunted? Yes.
So now, unable to sleep, Keonho has entered into a new state of hopelessness. He is so goddamn afraid. Not of the ghost, but of the fact that he doesn't know what’s going on. He knows something's gonna happen, so the suspense is killing him. He needs to talk with someone who’ll understand, someone who can guide him.
That’s it.
Keonho’s going to meet a Shaman.