How to Survive the Horror Novel I Wrote
Chapter 25
Chapter 25
“Hey!”
The ear-splitting shout yanked me out from behind the wall of old memories and dragged me back to the present, inside the barbecue restaurant.
Across the table, Jung-an scowled and snapped at me.
“How am I the same as that kid? And for the record, I never let you sleep over at my place.”
That was true.
“Teacher Ji-an, are you telling me a high school teacher doesn’t know how terrifying juvenile crime is these days? What if he searches your place and steals all your cash and valuables? What if he sweeps the place clean!”
Jung-an’s warning stirred a flicker of unease in me. Still, I didn’t want to doubt a student in such pitiful circumstances. Especially a kid whose situation was so similar to my own.
I tried to sound composed as I retorted.
“He wouldn’t do that.”
Jung-an’s face turned sour.
“You’re ridiculous. You’re normally so paranoid. What is this, some student-exclusive trust mode?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Anyway, drop it. Stop talking about On-dam.”
I drew a firm line, slapping fresh cuts of raw pork belly onto the clearing grill.
Jung-an wrapped the pork belly I placed on her plate in lettuce, slyly changing the subject as she chewed.
“Fine. Let’s talk about Ju Ugeum then.”
“What?”
“Come on, spill. You said you’ve been busy surviving. What else happened in the meantime?”
I recalled the last drinking session when Jung-an had come face-to-face with Ugeum. Back then, she had been thoroughly creeped out by how identical he was to the Ju Ugeum in my novel.
A sudden swell of hope rose within me.
“Do you finally believe me now?”
But Jung-an chewed up my hope along with her wrap.
“Nope.”
“Then why ask me to tell you?”
When I grumbled in protest, Jung-an smirked obnoxiously.
“Believing and being curious are two entirely different things. So, are you gonna tell me or not?”
Well, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to.
Like the barber in the fairy tale The King Has Donkey Ears, I poured out everything that had happened to Jung-an.
When I told her that Ugeum had found out about the Night Series, and that for my own safety I had sworn my editor to secrecy and terminated the new contract, my avid reader Jin Jeongan leapt out of her skin.
“What?! You’re not going to write the Night Series anymore?”
This girl seemed determined to blow my cover. I scowled deeply, glaring at her to keep it down.
Only then remembering that we were in a crowded barbecue joint, Jung-an belatedly lowered her voice.
“For real?”
“For real. Every single thing I write turns into reality—what else could I do?”
Judging by her dubious expression, she still didn’t believe me. Even so, the fact that she didn’t just brand me a liar made Jung-an a good friend.
Step by step, I spilled everything: hiding Oh Haejun from Ugeum when he showed up at my house, pretending to be Mun Seongwon’s wife ever since, Ugeum showing up at school when I was almost witch-hunted, receiving an anonymous email on the Mun Seongwon account presumed to be from Ugeum, the three-way confrontation with Ju Ugeum and Oh Haejun at Book Town Publishing, all the way to the heart-stopping moment when parting ways after a night walk with Ugeum.
After listening to all of that, Jung-an fixated on only one thing.
“No way… So? Ju Ugeum followed you inside and kissed you, and then what? What else did he do? What made it so thrilling? Describe it in detail. You’re a writer, aren’t you?”
“Forget it.”
I cut off Jung-an’s prodding without hesitation. But my malfunctioning brain replayed that night’s kiss anyway, flushing my face with heat and forcing me to chug cold water.
Jung-an smirked slyly as she watched me down three glasses of cold water in a row.
“Look at you, full-on dating, Ha Jian.”
Her ridiculous claim sent the water up my nose. Choking, I wheezed out:
“Cough, I told you, cough, we’re not dating…!”
Jung-an didn’t even pretend to listen.
“Not that I’m jealous, though. I’ve got a guy of my own now.”
My ears perked up.
“Really? When, where, and how did you meet him?”
“I got hit on at dawn. At the neighborhood convenience store.”
I was completely captivated as Jung-an began her tale.
Last weekend, with no plans whatsoever, Jung-an had binged a drama all night. Around five in the morning, drowsiness washed over her, but dying to know what happened in the next episode, she couldn’t bring herself to sleep. So she stepped out to buy coffee.
“At that hour? Alone?”
I couldn’t hide my shock.
“I live alone, so who else would I go with? A ghost?”
Jung-an shot back incredulously.
“Do you know how dangerous it is for a woman to walk around alone late at night? Watch the news once in a while. Did you know a dismembered body was found on Naegong Mountain just a few days ago? What if you get murdered?”
“Hey, you lunatic! Paranoia has its limits. Stop watching the news and go see a doctor!”
Jung-an snapped, looking thoroughly exasperated.
I shut my mouth.
“Don’t interrupt your unnie, or I won’t tell you the rest.”
Giving me a side-eye warning, Jung-an continued her story.
She said she was picking out coffee at the convenience store when a man walked in. A scrawny, bookish-looking guy wearing a bucket hat and a fishing vest.
While he was paying for cigarettes, Jung-an placed her coffee on the counter and waited her turn, tapping her fingers on the counter like playing the piano.
But then she felt an intense gaze from beside her. Turning her head, she saw the guy staring intently at her hands.
When their eyes met, his lips curled up as he said:
‘You have very pretty hands.’
‘Thank you.’
The guy’s moves didn’t stop there. He pulled the coffee Jung-an had set down toward himself and told the clerk to ring it up together.
And to Jung-an, who was staring in bewilderment, he asked:
‘Could I have your number?’
Saying he was surprisingly bold for someone who looked like that, Jung-an spoke as if she had reached some grand enlightenment.
“You really can never judge a book by its cover.”
“Wow…”
I could only marvel. I had never been hit on like that in my entire life.
Unlike me, Jung-an—who had been hit on fairly often since college—smiled proudly and bragged.
“Like I said, I went out after bingeing dramas all night. Barefaced, hollow eyes, greasy hair, wearing the same sloppy loungewear from home—and I still got hit on. Hehehe. Ji-an, your unnie’s still got it.”
“Right you are. Still got it, Jin Jeongan.”
I chuckled and played along.
Appreciating the guy’s courage, Jung-an had bestowed her number upon him, wrapping up her story by saying they now kept in touch every now and then.
Before we knew it, we were full. Without either of us having to say a word, we got up from our seats. Since it was a weekday, we skipped round two.
On the way home, the warning Jung-an had given me earlier crossed my mind.
<What if he steals all your cash and valuables?>
No way. Come on.
…Could he?
Even as I told myself there was no way, I found myself imagining my apartment turned upside down.
An entryway where On-dam’s sneakers were nowhere to be seen, drawers yanked open from the TV console, wardrobe, desk, and every piece of furniture, miscellaneous belongings strewn everywhere…
What am I even thinking? I was being worse than the Class 2 Homeroom Teacher who had dismissed On-dam running away from home as mere delinquency. Yet anxiety, stronger than my self-reproach, spurred my steps onward.
I practically sprinted home. It had been a long time since I ran like this, and having run for so long, my ragged breath didn’t easily settle even while riding the elevator up.
I caught my breath before opening the front door. Afraid On-dam might ask why I had run. Afraid my suspicion might hurt him.
But the moment I opened the door, all such worries evaporated. The ransacked mess that had occupied my head on the way back vanished like smoke as well.
Under the glow of the sensor light, neatly placed in the entryway instead of On-dam’s sneakers, was a pair of black men’s dress shoes.
Ugeum was here.
Frozen in place, I fixed my eyes on Ugeum’s shoes. Ugeum was here, yet there was no sound of typing.
Only then did I remember that the Cursed Keyboard had appeared at school. From that moment until now, Ugeum had been active the entire time.
Typing sounds were probably leaking from the desk drawer in the Teachers’ Room right now… though no one would be able to hear them.
The apartment was dark and desolate. As if nobody was there. Like the depths of space.
Why was it so dark? Why was it so quiet? Why? My breath caught in my throat. It felt as if I were standing alone in a place devoid of light, sound, and air.
I had contacted Ugeum beforehand, before meeting Jung-an. I told him not to come because I had plans with a friend tonight. Ugeum knew I was away from home. He had come knowing that. To my home, where On-dam was all alone.
<Still, next time, I hope we won’t be interrupted.>
His low whisper echoed in my ears like an auditory hallucination.
While I stood paralyzed, trembling in fear, the sensor light overhead clicked off, plunging the surroundings into darkness.
Feeding on the dark, the terror inside me swelled in an instant. The urge to turn around and flee collided with the desperate need to check if On-dam was safe.
The latter won. I carefully slipped off my shoes.
“Honey…?”
The voice emerging from my throat sounded like the bleating of a goat.
“On-dam…?”
Stepping into the living room as I called out both their names in a terribly shaking voice, I nearly screamed in shock.
“…!”
In the center of the pitch-black living room, a large man stood motionless. Buried in the darkness, his presence was outlined only by the faint, white glow filtering in from outside the balcony.
It was Ugeum. He was standing with his back to me. On-dam was nowhere to be seen. On-dam wasn’t here. Just like his sneakers.
Suddenly, the nine o’clock news I had watched the day before yesterday flashed through my mind.
The dismembered body of a woman in her twenties was discovered wrapped in black plastic bags on Naegong Mountain…
Even as I told myself Ugeum couldn’t possibly be the culprit in that case, I couldn’t stop the horrific imagery from flooding in.
On-dam’s closed eyes. His pale complexion. A limp body. Limbs sprawled haphazardly across the floor. Crimson blood spreading around On-dam. And Ugeum’s back as he stood in that puddle of blood.
A heartless, indifferent, unfeeling back.
The very back right before my eyes.
“Ju Ugeum.”
At my call, Ugeum slowly turned around. His face was swallowed by the dark, obscured from sight.
“Where’s On-dam?”
“Who knows? Where do you think he’d be?”
The trace of amusement laced in his counter-question dropped my heart into an abyss.
I knew it. I knew something like this would happen eventually.
Propelled by throat-crushing terror, chest-crushing despair, gut-burning fury, and brain-shaking confusion, I grabbed Ugeum by the collar.
“Where is On-dam?! What did you do to him!”
A shrill voice that didn’t sound like mine ripped through the air.
“Why do you ask like that?”
In the dark, I saw Ugeum tilt his head slightly.
“What do you think I did to On-dam?”
Oh no.
The words jammed in my throat. It felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. A chilling frost seeped straight into my bones. I couldn’t answer at all. Ugeum didn’t say anything either. A terrifying silence hung over the darkness and stillness.
Ding-dong.
At the sudden chime of the doorbell, my heart leapt into my throat. Ugeum and I turned toward the intercom at the same time. The face displayed on the small, square monitor was none other than On-dam.
I whipped around and dashed to the entryway. When I swung the door open, On-dam, holding a convenience store plastic bag in one hand, looked at me in surprise.
“Huh? Teacher, when did you get back?”
Glancing past my shoulder, he knitted his brows.
“Why’d you turn the lights off?”
With a sharp click of the switch, light flooded the apartment. Turning around, I saw Ugeum standing by the living room switch, smiling sheepishly.
“I was just playing a prank.”
The strength drained from my legs. I collapsed right there in the entryway. A prank. It was just a prank.
“Teacher! Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Rushing over in a fluster, On-dam tried to help me up. Sitting there dazed, I watched Ugeum approach me.
“I scared you badly. I didn’t think you’d be this startled. I’m sorry, Ji-an.”
With a worried expression, Ugeum helped me to my feet and led me over to sit on the sofa. As if nothing had happened. As if he had never heard my slip of the tongue.
Clenching my molars, I tried to calm my wildly hammering heart. But it was no use.
In my head, that low voice replayed endlessly.
The slight tilt of Ugeum’s head, the narrow glint in his eyes through the darkness, and that meaningful voice.
<Why do you ask like that?>