I Couldn't Tell You Who It Was

Woorim… Woorim Eun. I recalled his face before he went downstairs. He told me not to worry because he would be careful—I wondered what he was doing right now… Was he even alive? That transient thought made a corner of my heart grow cold. I bit the inside of my mouth a few times until an iron taste filled my mouth.

If he died, then I…

Creak, screech. I heard the sound of something wandering around the mansion.

“…I think I’ll apologize to Woorim,” Raehee suddenly mumbled tearfully. She must have been exhausted from what had happened upstairs as her hand was limp. She continued to express her regrets. “If only I hadn’t fallen for that and done that…”

“I don’t know what Hawoo was thinking when he was pushing for that, but I understand why you did that, given the situation,” I told her my honest thoughts, not just empty words of comfort. I had no right to say it as someone who argued that we had to save Woorim, but I could understand why they couldn’t trust Woorim easily.

And this was just my guess, but even if Woorim knew about their betrayal, he wouldn’t care. Just like the fact that only one thing was important to me, I was the only person who was important to Woorim. Even if I doubted and betrayed him, he probably wouldn’t pay much mind.

He didn’t care if others betrayed him; while in my case, he would be all right with my betrayal.

“Besides, nobody would have imagined that Woorim’s flashlight would be discovered in such a place.”

“…”

My words must have either comforted her or she got lost in some other thought because Raehee fell silent. I only hear her sniffles from behind. She seemed to be reflecting deeply on her actions, so I felt bad to say anything more.

How much further until we reached the end of the stairs? I couldn’t fathom how much deeper we needed to go before we saw the end. I didn’t want to go to the very bottom floor. I wasn’t confident that I could handle the things filling that space.

“Woorim is innocent,” Raehee said.

“Is that so?” I ended up replying a bit carelessly.

“He said so, about the rules. He said that maybe people died after they broke the rules.”

“He did.”

“Maybe he was right.”

“…” That was difficult for me to agree with. I was reluctant to reply.

Raehee didn’t realize that I didn’t answer on purpose and continued. The sound of two people’s footsteps and her words erased the ominous sounds from afar. “We were wrong. I realized when we saw Seogeung die.”

“What about?”

“It’s not that people died because they broke the rules. We have to follow the rules to survive.” After she said that, Raehee stopped walking. I couldn’t move on to the next step. I turned back to look at Raehee. Her pale face glowed eerily in the darkness. Raehee’s palm was drenched in sweat.

There was something off about her, so I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that we had to move on. Instead, I asked, “…What do you mean?”

Her quivering lips parted. “Seventh, the cast is free to explore whenever they want. However, it is recommended that the cast take a break or sleep between 10 at night to eight in the morning.”

The rules that we were so familiar with that they almost felt like curses she was uttering from her lips. Raehee was tense, and her voice shook uncontrollably. I was also tense. I remembered the clause she mentioned.

“If a cast member comes out of their rooms during that time, any accidents that happen during that time are the responsibility of the individual, and the production staff will not be liable for it…” After reciting the rule, Raehee let out a rough breath. “What time is it now?”

I didn’t know. But if she asked whether it was past 10 at night, I could tell her that it was.

It was already 9:40 when I saw the clock on the wall of the stylist’s room. Afterward, Hawoo ran away, and Seogeung went berserk. After we ran away upon witnessing Seogeung being murdered, how long had we been wandering this passageway? We didn’t need to think very hard about it—it was already way past 10.

Raehee also knew that. “Haeseo,” she called out my name, and her face fell in devastation. Tears rolled from her large eyes. “…The thing grabbing my ankle. That’s not a person, right?”

“…!” My eyes darted down in surprise.

She was right. She didn’t stop to have a moment to ponder. She also didn’t stop because she was about to tell me something important. She stopped walking because something was holding onto her ankles. The step that she was on was partially broken. There was a stark white hand that came out from the rift. The bony hand was gripping Raehee’s left ankle very firmly.