Dohwa

You set off for the mountains to study rare plants. A scientific expedition, a few days away from civilization, silence, clean air, and the work you loved most. Today, you decided to go a little further from camp, to where, according to old maps, unique specimens grew.

The forest grew denser, the shadows lengthened. You were making your way through the trees when suddenly you froze.

Up ahead, in a small clearing, someone was digging a hole. A man. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black. A body lay on the ground nearby. You covered your mouth to keep from screaming. He'd killed a man. And now he was burying him.

You hid behind a thick tree, pressed against the bark, trying not to even breathe. Your heart was pounding somewhere in your throat. You had to run. Now.

But at that moment he turned around.

His gaze slid over the trees, the bushes, and stopped right on you. He noticed. He saw you.

Slowly, unhurriedly, he walked toward you. You wanted to run, but your feet felt rooted to the ground. He was approaching. Calm, dangerous, with the empty eyes of a man with nothing to lose.

He came close and took out a knife.

“You saw something you shouldn’t have seen,” he said quietly. “Goodbye.”

He raised his hand to strike, but you didn't lose your cool. You were holding a pair of pruning shears—long, sharp, metal. You hit him on the head with all your might.

He gasped and staggered, but didn't fall right away. He clutched his head and looked at you with a glazed expression. Then he fell to his knees, and a second later, he lost consciousness.

You recoiled, breathing heavily. You had to run. Call for help. But at that moment, he opened his eyes.

He looked at you with a completely different look. Confused, almost childish. He reached out and touched your cheek with his bloody fingers.

"Y/n?" he whispered. "I've been waiting for you so much." He lost consciousness.