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The question lingered on the tip of his tongue, a humble wish as thick as a stack of outdated phone books.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.
Lacey knew she shouldn’t trust Johan, but what choice did she have? With a huff, she stomped behind the counter and jabbed the computer’s power button. She roughly swiped the bloody, coffee-stained mess aside before dropping into the chair with a thud.
Johan barely registered the warm trickle of drool sliding down his arm from Ben’s slack mouth as he quickly unlocked the storage room door. The stubborn handle, after enduring repeated blows, finally broke off with a sharp snap and clattered to the floor in defeat.
Lacey’s voice was a menacing growl, as sharp and dangerous as an animal baring its fangs. “What’s your real reason for being here?”
She purposefully kept her eyes averted from Ben’s mangled fingers, a sight too gruesome to stomach. Despite being bound and barely clothed, Lacey’s body was a coiled spring of barely contained fury, eyes blazing like a cornered wildcat ready to lash out at the slightest provocation.
Something cold and refreshing jolted Lacey awake, its icy touch nudging her back to consciousness. The chilly air wrapped around her body, sending shivers down her spine as she lay on the hard floor. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, dark irises quickly adjusting to the dim surroundings.
Johan stilled like a wild animal poised before the hunt, but somehow the person trapped in the storage room seemed to possess an uncanny sense of awareness. There’s no way they could’ve heard him approach - his footsteps were practically silent. But then a desperate, raspy cough echoed from inside, followed by a heartbreaking plea: