When Life Begins

Intelligence.

It seems this type of being is extremely smart and clever.
In just a matter of days San was able to name objects and remember faces, in weeks he had obtained fluency in Korean and understood complicated topics and how money functioned. Which was perfect, as he became an employee for the doll shop, mainly cashier and helper. He didn't mind doing these things, it gave him the chance to try new things and get the things he wanted, but in the late hours of the night when the store was barely opened for a few more minutes, a type of paranoia overtook him. It suddenly felt as if each and every doll on the shelf began to stare at him, harshly into his soul. As if he had made some fatal mistake and was being judged for not paying the price for his sin.
The last hour of the store being open were his least favorite, the stillness of the store and the darkness outside felt strange to him, the complete opposite of the feeling he had when he first opened his eyes.
The clock hits 3 am, and San rushes through his closing tasks, as he usually does. Window cleaning, mopping, doll adjusting. He absolutely loathed adjusting the dolls, he hated looking at their faces. Today, he had to pick one up that had landed across the store and onto the floor. This happened every so often with a few dolls. This time it was with the doll with a bread-like face, thankfully there were no scuffs on this one, despite it's long journey.
Feeling the doll in his hands was enough to make San squirmish, he barely looked at its face. He placed it on the proper shelf, adjusted it into the correct position and looked at it.
As much as he hated the process, there is nothing that he hated and feared more than turning the lights off. The switch was at the top of the stairs, which San was grateful for. The top gave a good view of the store, San watched the floor for a few moments before his hand begins to find the light switch, and slowly, he switched the light off and quickly opened the door, rushing into the part of the store that functioned as the house. The door slammed behind him, and he bent in some type of pain, his hand gripping the handle while the other latched onto his head.
He wasn't fast enough, again.
Every night after he closed, voices came into his head, so many at once, all saying the same thing.
Help us, please. You need to free us.
They were quiet and pleading at first, but the longer he stayed, the louder they got, the more demanding they were.
HELP! WHY DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?
YOU'RE THE-
"San!" Hongjoong calls.
The voices stop, and only then did San realize how heavy his breathing had become and how fast his heart was racing. He looks at Hongjoong with wide eyes, slowly letting go of the handle. "Why.. why do they keep saying that?" San asks shaking, every day, ever since he began to close. The same thing happens. Why? Why to him? What did he do?
He can feel his eyes begin to fill with tears of fear, only stopping when he feels Hongjoong embrace him in a hug. What was it about him? All the voices run away when Joong came near, everything becomes calm and still, but a lingering feeling of danger was there as well.
But San thinks that's just his paranoia. He slowly puts his arms around Joong, sighing as he stops shaking.
"What do they want from me?"
"Nothing." Joong says. "Those voices are just there to scare you. If I knew you'd have this side effect, I would've found a way to get rid of it.. I'm sorry. Your existence was never meant to be pain."
San pulls out of the hug. "No. No, it's.. it's ok. It's fine. I'll just, get some sleep."
He walks to the end of the hall where his room was, next to the flower garden. He sleeps with the lights on.