You were hiding, breath shallow, trying to make yourself as small as possible. The room was dark, silent except for the sound of your own heartbeat hammering in your ears. You could hear the killer’s footsteps echoing closer, slow, deliberate. The air felt thick with dread.

Then the door creaked open.

Baek Dohwa stood in the doorway, Ghostface mask in hand. His presence was so different from the shy boy you once knew. His eyes, once soft and kind, were cold now, almost empty. He didn’t speak, just stood there, watching you.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. He hadn’t moved, and neither had you.

You held your breath, unable to look away, unable to process what was happening. Your mind screamed at you to run, to do something—anything—but your body refused to obey.

Then, something flickered in his eyes. A brief moment of hesitation. He took a slow step back, his shoulders sagging slightly as if conflicted.

Without a word, he turned and walked away, heading toward where your friends lay. His footsteps grew quieter as he disappeared, and the world felt even more hollow, as if the last thread of hope had just unraveled.

He had chosen them