Joseph stumbled to the phone like a drunk on a bender, collapsing onto the floor. But even in his injured state, his broadcaster instincts kicked in, and he continued filming the call without missing a moment. Seojun couldn’t help but be impressed by Joseph’s dedication.
The TV screen was dead black, except for the faint hum of static in the background - the only clue it was even turned on.
Then, out of nowhere, a burst of laughter shattered the silence. It was a young guy’s carefree chuckle. The screen flickered to life, and the camera, which had been fixed on a red carpet, suddenly whipped around to zoom in on the guy’s face, filling the entire screen.
The Decoy Motel was a towering behemoth, its nine-plus floors reaching for the sky like an outstretched finger. Yet one thing was strange… the number of rooms on each floor didn’t follow the usual 99-room standard. It was like the motel, and the information guidelines sheet, were doing whatever they wanted.
Seojun’s eyelids fluttered open, and he squinted against the unfamiliar weightlessness that enveloped him. The crushing burden that had been pressing down on him for so long was finally gone, leaving him feeling surprisingly light and free.
Johan took the candy back.
“Looks like we’re not getting out of here anytime soon.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling you all along...” Harry grumbled, his body splayed out like a starfish, his voice as weak as a whisper. Johan’s booming clap right next to Harry’s ear snapped him out of his daze.
The sharp smell of booze briefly made Johan think he had stumbled into a fight between drunk customers. But instead of punches flying and trading insults, two disheveled guys, identical in their messiness and looks, begged for his attention with an air of desperation. They introduced themselves as Harry and Gary. Johan’s eyebrow shot up in sympathy.
What do I want?
The question lingered on the tip of his tongue, a humble wish as thick as a stack of outdated phone books. Among his carefully curated desires, winning the lottery took the top spot, followed by reuniting with his beloved lost eye. And last but not least, he yearned to erase from the universe’s memory the cringeworthy words he had said in the past, words that still made him want to rip his mouth off.
Seojun finally had the answer. The red-eyed Doade was the devil, and the green-eyed one was human. Relief washed over him in waves, threatening to buckle his legs that felt like chopsticks. Exhaustion tugged at him, urging him to collapse right there at the crossroads, overwhelmed by this revelation.
Deep down, Seojun had hoped his psychometry would be the key to unlocking the secrets of this place. But if this crossroads was truly the handiwork of a devil, one capable of such twisted and inexplicable feats…
I might be able to wrap my head around ghosts, but devils are a bit...
Seojun stood there, facing the two girls who looked perfectly normal, but their wild claims seemed too far-fetched to believe. He couldn’t help but furrow his brow skeptically as they both insisted passionately that they were the one and only Doade.
The sheriff barged past the middle-aged man, his heavy bottom plopping down heavily on the empty seat beside Seojun. A tingle ran up Seojun’s spine - an ominous premonition sharper than mere intuition.
“What a sight this late at night,” Seojun muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the hum of the truck’s engine.
The night was pitch-black, engulfing the lonely road like a suffocating blanket. The only source of light came from the twin beams of Seojun’s truck, slicing through the darkness. His exhausted face was reflected in the windshield as he drove away from the chaos at the gas station.