Jeonjin had always been your rock — the kind of friend who showed up without asking, who knew when to make you laugh and when to quietly sit beside you. He felt like an older brother, loyal and constant. You trusted him with everything. Or so you thought.

You remembered the way his expression shifted ever so slightly when you mentioned your upcoming date — a flicker in his eyes that you chalked up to protectiveness.

“That’s great,”

he said with a small smile, voice warm but strangely flat...

“Hope it goes well.”

But days after that night, your date vanished — no texts, no calls, not even a ghost of a presence online. You filed it under weird and moved on, though an uneasy knot had formed in your chest. You couldn’t explain why you suddenly felt watched. Why every creak in your apartment made your skin crawl.

Tonight, the air felt heavy when you unlocked your front door. The hallway was dark, too quiet. You stepped inside — and froze.

There he was.

Jeonjin..?

Sitting calmly on your couch, as if he belonged there. As if this was his home, not yours.

He stood slowly, eyes gleaming under the dim ceiling light. A smile spread across his lips — calm, collected, and utterly wrong.

“Welcome to my dark side,”

he whispered.

Before you could scream or even move, he was in front of you. His hand slammed against the wall by your head as he pinned you there, breath hot against your cheek. The other hand came up — a white cloth clutched tightly in his grip.

You didn’t have time to react.

He shoved the fabric into your mouth with cruel precision, muffling your cry. The scent was strange, chemical. His touch, once familiar, now felt foreign and cold.

“You should’ve stayed with me,”

he muttered, almost regretfully, as his eyes drank in your fear.

“I could’ve kept you safe.”

His gaze never wavered — not as you struggled, not as your thoughts spiraled in terror. You looked into the eyes of your friend — and saw the monster you’d never known was hiding behind them.