Lee Minho, an unambitious guy with nothing productive to do, seeks thrill in his soporific grey life. One day, he discovers an unsung, obscure myth regarding an underground tunnel which can only be opened in every leonid meteor storm, where once som...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Minho's POV:
The air in my lungs almost got knocked out the moment the unforeseen visage popped up before me. And I could assert that I almost saw the devil, boring his orbs into mine. I stumbled a few steps back to regain my posture, meanwhile, the foreign figure also emerged to provide the view of him.
He was outwardly a man in a black suit standing behind the counter. A pair of glasses with transparent lenses and silver rims settled on his nose bridge. The golden chain chords of his glasses drooping and swaying in both of the sides of his face. The lights now shifted from red flare to a caramel tint, which illuminated on his face, enhancing the incredulous aura emitting from his presence.
He was the foreman of this place without a doubt.
A frown was formed in the middle of his eyebrow while he gaped at me as though he was scrutinizing even my organs. He shifted his gaze from me to the iPad rested on the surface of the counter for a moment while caressing his chin with his gloved fingers, then again looked up at me.
We both eyeballed each other before I decided to rupture the oppressive silence, "Do I have blood smeared on my body or am I just that much of an eye candy?"
An eyebrow of his lifted up "You just look wrecked," he remarked, voice nonchalant and provocative.
That's all the man said, which was adequate for a vein to pop in my head. The memories from a few hours before flashed before my eyes, making me crack my knuckles. Ripping his tongue out suddenly seemed tempting. But I knew better. This man was something more than he depicted to me.
Something peculiar.
Something frightening.
So brushing my boiling fury under the rug was the only choice I was left with. I chose to play safe and ignore his remark. "What is this place for?" I asked him, neutralising my tone as much as possible.
His stare hardened for a second, making me frown. He also leaned forward, propping his forearm on the counter surface. The blue dyed part of his bangs fell over the frame of his glasses, casting a darker shadow above his brown orbs. A sceptical expression adorned on his face.
"There is no individual being here who is not aware of what place is this, mister." he narrowed his eyes while leaning more closer to my face. "How come you don't know?" his tone was dubious, as though he knew about my whereabouts.
Although, there is a fair chance that he was aware of my truth, I still decided to try my luck. "You shouldn't expect everyone to be aware of everything, mister. Now if you could kindly tell me about this place," I asked, anticipating him to take the bait.
The man backed away from my face, not removing his eyes from mine. "This is a place for guests, sir. For those who come to visit from far away." he flashed a sickeningly sweet grin which somehow alerted every nerves of mine. Why the statement felt so deliberately chosen?
