Look, Seojun wasn't going to stand here and pretend he was some kind of hero ready to throw himself into danger for a bunch of strangers. He had his own skin to worry about, and frankly, Johan’s plan to just brute-force the front entrance open was incredibly tempting.
The keycard reeked. So bad, in fact, that Seojun found himself hesitating to touch it even through his gloves. But he really didn't have much of a choice here. He gingerly pinched one corner between his thumb and forefinger, sliding it into the reader by the door to the third-floor stairwell.
The plan, if you could even call it that, was laughably simple.
Step one: Drag Pete into a room.
Step two: Slam the door shut.
Step three: Barricade with the sofa.
Pete moved like nothing human. He scuttled forward on all fours with a chilling, insectile grace that was extremely menacing! Somehow, this was worse than the earlier shambling—the awkward, top-heavy teetering on mismatched limbs.
Seojun let out a heavy sigh as the weight of their predicament settled over him.
Now what do I do?
Admittedly, Samantha probably wasn't in the best condition after going down to the basement. Though calling it "going down" was generous. She'd essentially plummeted straight down the elevator shaft.
The buried memories came flooding back all at once. Seojun's face went red-hot, the heat spreading up his neck until he was convinced he might actually catch fire. Even after Johan put him down, he couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes.
Johan’s voice was calm and upbeat. He met Seojun’s gaze with ease, idly tapping the monkey wrench against his shoulder like he had all the time in the world. That laid-back confidence—so effortless, so grounded—made something shift in Seojun’s chest.
Lilies.
The scent reached him just after the voice. Thick, cloying, and so overpoweringly sweet it made his head pound.
The mystery key felt like it was searing a hole through his pocket, but whatever door it opened would have to wait. Right now, survival meant one thing—staying the hell away from the Nurse.
The batteries worked. Of course they did. The universe had perfect timing—cruel, comedic timing.
"Hi! I'm Sally! Nice to meet you!"
The doll's voice spoke again, bright and loud. Like it was getting payback for being stepped on. Sweet revenge on repeat.
The sound hit like a jump scare. A sudden, jarring shift, like the drop in a horror movie score right before the gore starts. The ringing in his ears flared like a siren. Maybe it wasn’t technically a demon hunting them, but when the monster chasing you wore nurse’s scrubs, the semantics didn’t matter.
Seojun could hardly believe what he was hearing, but Levi didn’t even blink. Her violent suggestion came without hesitation, cool and matter-of-fact, like she was suggesting something as mundane as tossing out the trash.