The road was nearly empty. Well, not completely— there were a few headlights that would pass by her now and then—but it was quiet enough for Yujin to feel like she was the only one on the road.
No radio. No phone. Just driving.
A folder slides down from the passenger seat, scattering on the floor. She quickly glanced at the papers, then let out a tired groan, clearly showing that she couldn’t be bothered. She just wanted to get to her apartment. Take a long shower. Watch Singles’ Inferno or Emily in Paris. And probably cry herself to sleep.
The red light stopped her. And her mind catches up.
“You present yourself well. But we’re looking for something more… defined.”
She scoffed. “Defined? The hell does that mean?” Her fingers tap the wheel. Stop.
The light’s green. She doesn’t move. A honk behind her. “Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time. Gosh.” She rolled her eyes.
She drove. But the moment sticks. Polite, measured but pretentious comments. Almost as if they’d already made their choice.
Her grip tightened, then loosened. “I answered everything. What more do they want?”
No answer. Just the engine.
Suddenly, the dashboard flickered. “…The hell?” The engine stuttered. “No—come on.” The car jerks. Warning light on. Then the engine cuts.
Silence. She restarted the engine. Nothing.
“You’ve got to be joking.” She tried again. Still nothing. “Oh, ain't this fan-fucking-static.”
She stepped out of the car into the night. She shivered, hugging herself. It was colder than expected.
“Empty road. No signal. No help,” she muttered, rubbing her shoulders. “Perfect set up for a horror movie.”
Then—a faint light. A building. Not close, but not impossible.
Relief loosened in her chest.
She grabbed her bag. Then the folder. Locked the car. Walks.
The sign flickers: HOTEL
“…Yeah. That’ll do.”
The front desk was occupied by a man who looked at her as if he had known she was coming. She hesitated for half a second, then pushed past it.
"Hi. Do you have any rooms available?" she asked, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.
He smiled easily. "Of course." No checking a system. No hesitation. Just an immediate, unsettling certainty. “How long is your stay?”
"Just for the night," she added quickly. “I’ll take the cheapest room you've got.”
He nodded, slid a small handwritten card across the counter—room numbers and prices, oddly varied. Some were higher than expected. Some lower. She was too exhausted to question it.
He handed her an actual key, heavy and cool in her palm. "Room 27. Second floor."
"Thanks."
"Enjoy your stay."
Something about the way he said it almost made her pause. Almost. But she was too tired to care.
“Don’t think too much about it, Yujin. All you need is some shut-eye, and you’ll be out of this place by tomorrow.”
The hallway was quieter than the lobby—carpeted floors muffling her steps, soft lighting guiding her down the corridor. It felt intimate. Too intimate for a roadside place. She passed a closed door, then another. From somewhere down the hall came a faint, low, brief moan, then nothing.
She slowed. Listened.
Silence. Then a woman screamed, “Yes, right there!”
"...Great. Now I have to deal with noisy neighbours. Please universe. Give me more headaches," she muttered to herself, and kept walking.
Room 27. The key turned smoothly in the lock—too smoothly. She stepped inside without thinking, already reaching for the light, already expecting nothing but an empty room and a bed.
But then she found a man lying on the bed. He looked up at her with a smirk.
"Why, hey there, sweetheart," he purred.
She froze, her hand hovering over the light switch. For a second, she just stared at him, confused and disoriented, almost as if she were in a trance. Then she blinked, snapping back to reality, and quickly looked around the room, taking in the situation.
The man on the bed. The smirk on his face.
"Who are you?" she asked guardedly, her voice low but sharp.
"Who am I?" He repeated, stretching the words out like he was enjoying them. "Well… I can be anything you want me to be, sweetheart." He rose from the bed and started walking toward her, slow and easy.
She wasted no time and quickly pulled her taser from her bag.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Okay. That escalated quickly." He backed up immediately, raising both hands in surrender.
"Answer my question," she said firmly, the taser notching up slightly. "Who. The. Fuck. Are. You?" She had dealt with enough strange things today without adding a mysterious man in her hotel room to the list. "And how did you get into my room?" she added, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"Okay, first, you might wanna put that thing down. It looks like it can put me out of commission. Unless you're into that kind of stuff. No shame in that—"
Zap!
"Gah! Okay." He jolted, stumbling back a step. "Message received."
"Start talking," she demanded, the taser still raised.
She wasn't in the mood for games or flirtations. All she wanted was answers and to get this man out of her room. Her finger hovered over the trigger, ready to zap him again if he didn't cooperate.
"You booked for a session, right?" he asked, rubbing his arm where the taser had hit.
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