The Cabin

1 - Prologue

"I'd like a hot chocolate," you told the barista when she arrived in front of you. She diligently nodded and got to work, almost mechanically. Upon your observations, anyone who seemed to be a senior at their jobs performed their duties like they were programmed. They acted as if they had wires behind their eyes, circling their brains, pushing them around like a robot.

You wondered if you were, perhaps, the robot. What if you were all robots? Metaphorically, of course. You knew you were completely human. But, everyone is programmed since birth to do the same things. Wake up, get ready, go to school, go home, do it again. Grow up, pass tests, get a job, move out, get it together. Wake up, get ready, go to work, go home, do it again. Get married, make it work, have a kid, send them to school, raise them to go to college. Then they're programmed all over again.

Your Friday afternoon was bland, as always. Classes ended early today so your professor could drink, as usual. It was a normal day for you. The snow fell onto the ground like it usually did. The people in booths in the coffee shop conversed in normal voices, with the occasional uproar of laughter or banter. The bells jingled with the same volume, and the music never changed. It was always a calming pop song, or an acoustic cover of a pop song.

You recognized the familiar clicking of the register's keys and the mundane printing of the receipt you never kept. "That'll be 6,000 won," the young woman passed the receipt and cup forward. As you handed her the note, she replied with her usual, "Thank you, have a wonderful day! Your drink is hot, and please stay warm outside!"

"No problem, Heesung," You responded and put a tip and candy in the jar for her. She, sadly, was the only one working that day. You knew she'd get all the tips no matter what.

Making your way to the corner table you always sat at, you opened your textbooks to study for your upcoming test. The textbook itself was an ordinary, stereotypical style. Big print words which read LITERATURE, and in a tiny script beneath it: for undergrads. It was a boring brown, contrary to the cafe's lively green and orange. It was all so monotone lately. Maybe you needed some change. "How would I change anything when I'm doing well?" You asked yourself in a whisper and hid your head in your hands.

You saw a shadow pass by your feet. "It's boring, huh?" You looked up to see a man with black hair and a red patterned shirt. "The literature class, I mean," He added upon your look of confusion. You nodded. Taking a seat across from you, he extended his hand. "I'm Choi San, by the way. I'm in that class, too."

You cocked your head to the left and slowly shook his hand. "How come I've never seen you there?" His face looked looked like that of a David sculpture, and his hair came down over his face and neck. His cute laugh sent shivers down your spine.

"Well, for starters, I always skip out of that class."

"Then how do you know it's boring?" You asked curiously. He smiled a perfect smile and chuckled. He took out a small paper towel from the dispenser and began to fold it into a cute shape. Then more shapes, until it was too folded to even make a shape.

He unfolded the napkin. "I skip that class because of how boring it is, but all the lessons are recorded online. I basically get to stay in and watch the class in the comfort of my own home. Did you not know that?" He asked. To say you were shocked was an understatement.

You searched the room for a cameraman. "Please tell me I'm on a television show, and that I'm not actually that clueless. Is that why there's only, like, five other people there?"

San nodded slowly. "And I bet one of them is none other than Kang Yeosang," He laughed. His eyes formed crescents, and his voice melodically went into a joking tone.

You nodded in affirmation. He was always so well dressed for class, and his hair was always a new shade of brown. You two weren't friends, but you and him got along. It was a classroom environment, so everyone knew the five others.

San whipped his phone out. "You're nice. Do you want to be friends?" He suddenly asked. Although it was rather soon and forward, you decided to input your number.

"Hm. Seo Y/N. That's a nice name," He smiled and walked away, to a table with one other guy. "I'll text you?" He said as more of a question when he walked away. You nodded, causing him to smile.

"San Hyung, you shouldn't," Jongho warned him. The older boy pouted and used his best puppy dog eyes. Jongho didn't budge from his position of typing he finishing words of his essay. "I'm serious. You remember what happened the last time when a human was affiliated with anyone in the pack, right? Or do I need to tell the story again?"

San shuddered at the thought of hearing the gory story another time. His eyes flashed a bright yellow for a second, before he regained his composure. "No, I don't. But I'm also not going to listen to you. That was hundreds of years ago, back when we were primal. Our ancestors made the mistake, but our pack members are civilized and modernized."

Jongho rolled his eyes with a 'whatever' and pressed the envelope button on the submission form. "Well, I'm done now. Should we head to a movie?" San agreed and helped his friend pack up his laptop.

As the two walked towards the movie theater, San pulled out his phone.

SAN: Hey Y/N, it's San. Do you want to meet up this weekend? Some of my friends and I are going to watch the lessons and take notes.

Y/N: Sure. What address?

SAN: xxx-xxxgu, xxx-xxxxdong, apartment xxx! You can't miss it.

And with that, San had unknowingly set you up for the beginning of your change.