The house was large, far too big for nine people — but space meant nothing when the air was this suffocating. Every wall seemed to pulse with the weight of unspoken hatred. The luxurious, dimly lit mansion served as both a sanctuary and a prison, a perfect reflection of the twisted souls that occupied it.

Mingi’s paranoia thrived in its endless hallways. San’s possessive nature clung to its locked doors. Wooyoung’s laughter echoed like a taunt through the empty rooms. Seonghwa preferred the shadows, observing every move with unsettling calm. Yunho’s desperation seeped into every creak of the floorboards. Yeosang, the silent observer, treated the house like his personal laboratory. And Hongjoong? He ruled it. Every decision, every punishment — it all stemmed from him.

But now, there was you.

You moved there six months ago. A mistake, if anyone had the guts to admit it. You were not like them, but not in the way most people would fear. You were worse.

---

The sun barely touched the black curtains of the living room. A heavy tension polluted the air as Mingi paced, muttering inaudible suspicions under his breath. His eyes flickered toward you, who sat calmly on the couch with one leg crossed over the other, swirling your coffee in slow, deliberate circles.

"She's been snooping," Mingi hissed, his voice low but dripping with accusation. "I heard her. Last night."

"Maybe I was," You replied flatly, your lips curling into a dangerous smirk. "But I wasn’t the one talking to the shadows, Mingi."

The way you said his name — like it was a joke — made his hands twitch. Yunho shifted uncomfortably beside him, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the edge of the table. He hated when you provoked them. You knew exactly how to push.

"Why are you still here?" San growled from the other side of the room, his dark eyes narrowed with disdain. "You’re like a parasite. Useless. But somehow, you enjoy rotting with the rest of us."