nyctophilia
[ nĭk′tə-fĭl′ē-ə ]
n.
a preference for the night or darkness
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"Oh we're definitely killing them then, I need to pad my stats anyway."
"You sound like a serial killer."
"I know, I still wonder why...
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"Boyfriend, huh. Interesting. Do you know that your boyfriend’s father was the one who planned your parents’ murder?”
The words hit me like a physical blow, my chest tightening as if the air had been sucked from the room. My grip on the dagger faltered, trembling in my hand, but I forced myself to hold it firm again. The walls seemed to close in, my vision narrowing on Woosung’s smug face as the weight of his accusation pressed down on me.
“What did you just say?” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. Despite the quiet tone, there was venom laced in my words. I clenched my free fist tightly, nails digging into my palm to anchor myself in the storm of emotions brewing inside me.
Woosung didn’t flinch. Instead, his smirk grew wider, curling in a way that made my blood boil. Slowly, he stepped closer, the malice in his eyes sharper than ever, “Go on, ask San about it,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, as if savoring each syllable, “see if he denies it.”
His words lingered in the air, echoing like the distant gunshot that suddenly reverberated through the mansion.
“I’m sorry you had to know it this way, Yuri.” Woosung continued, his tone almost mocking, as if he were apologizing out of politeness rather than remorse. He took another step forward, his shadow creeping closer, “But there’s more to the story. Apparently, Hyunseok was jealous that Yujin’s business was more successful than his. So, he decided to take him down. Ruthless, isn’t it?”
I remained frozen, every muscle in my body tense, as he went on.
“Of course, no one except the assassins knew Hyunseok had orchestrated it—until his assistant, Jung Sunwoo, became a suspect and spilled the truth. It was all laid bare: Hyunseok was the mastermind.” He chuckled darkly, “But life has its own sense of irony, doesn’t it? Before he could be sentenced, he was murdered by his own son—your precious Choi San.”
I barely heard the last words. My mind was a whirlpool of conflicting thoughts and memories. I stared at the floor, trying to piece everything together, but it felt like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces.
San had told me about his father—how he killed him in a fit of rage on his 13th birthday, after Hyunseok murdered San’s older sister, Haneul. It was the one story I believed wholeheartedly, the one that explained everything about the man I grew to trust with my life. But if what Woosung said was true, that meant San had known...and he hadn’t told me.
Why would he hide something like this? Did he think I couldn’t handle the truth? Or worse...was there more to the story that even Woosung didn’t know?
