Cold air bit into Yujin's skin, a sharp contrast to the stifling heat of the luxury suite behind him. Grand Obsidian Hotel stood like a silent giant against the jagged mountain peak, its black stone walls absorbing the moonlight. Inside, the rest of the group was celebrating the start of their winter getaway. Laughter drifted through the open balcony doors—Hao's melodic giggles, Jiwoong's deep chuckles, and Matthew's playful teasing. Yujin leaned against the stone railing, wrapping his arms tightly around his chest. He felt like an intruder in their perfect, wealthy world. Gyuvin and Ricky had arranged everything, renting out the entire resort for the week under the guise of a celebratory trip. Deep unease settled in the pit of Yujin's stomach, a persistent whisper that he was being watched. Behind him, footsteps cruncled softly on the thin layer of frost dusting the balcony floor. Before Yujin could turn, a heavy weight settled over his shoulders. Scent of expensive sandalwood and rain enveloped him as a thick, pristine cashmere coat was draped over his frame. Gyuvin's long fingers lingered on the lapels, slowly smoothing the fabric down Yujin's chest. "You look too fragile to survive the cold, Yujin," Gyuvin whispered, his voice a low, dark murmur against the shell of Yujin's ear. Yujin shivered, but not from the wind. Gyuvin's touch was always too heavy, too deliberate, holding him in place like a fragile insect pinned to a board. "I'm fine, Gyuvin," Yujin said, trying to step forward, but Gyuvin's hands tightened on his shoulders, anchoring him. "You're not fine. You're trembling," Gyuvin murmured, leaning in closer, his dark eyes reflecting the faint moonlight. "I told you before. You need to let me take care of you." Through the glass door, Ricky watched them, his fingers wrapped around a crystal glass of whiskey. His sharp, feline eyes didn't blink, tracking every twitch of Yujin's shoulders, every breath he took. Ricky didn't move to join them, but his presence was a heavy, suffocating force that seemed to lock Yujin in place from afar. Yujin looked down at the courtyard below to escape their intense gazes. Snow covered the stone tiles, pristine and untouched. Suddenly, a wet, heavy thud shattered the quiet mountain air. It sounded like a sack of wet cement hitting the ground, but far worse. Yujin's heart skipped a beat. He leaned further over the railing, his eyes widening as he stared at the center of the courtyard. Crimson blood began to bloom across the white snow, spreading outward like a grotesque flower. Lying in the center of the pool of red was Hanbin. His limbs were twisted, his neck bent at an impossible angle, his limbs splayed out. But it was his face that made Yujin's breath catch in his throat. Hanbin's eyes were wide open, lifeless, staring directly up at the balcony—directly at Yujin. Panic, cold and sharp, pierced Yujin's chest. World spun around him, the black stone walls of the hotel tilting dangerously. Memories he had tried so hard to bury rushed back in a suffocating flood. He was ten years old again, standing on the rainy asphalt, staring at the shattered windshield of his parents' car. Looking at the lifeless eyes of the people who were supposed to protect him, leaving him completely alone in a cruel world. "No..." Yujin choked out, his knees giving way. Gyuvin caught him effortlessly, pulling Yujin's small frame back against his broad chest. "I've got you," Gyuvin whispered, his voice completely calm, devoid of any shock or horror. "Look at me, Yujin. Don't look at him." Screams sliced through the night from the suite inside. Hao had walked over to the window, his glass slipping from his hand and shattering on the floor. "Hanbin! Oh my god, Hanbin!" Hao screamed, his voice cracking with pure terror. Within seconds, the peace of the penthouse was completely shattered. Matthew and Taerae rushed out onto the balcony, their faces turning pale as they looked down at the horrifying scene. "Is he... is he dead?" Matthew whimpered, clutching his stomach. Jiwoong and Gunwook shoved past them, their faces grim. "We need to get down there! Now!" Jiwoong shouted, grabbing his phone to call for help. "No service. Damn it!" They bolted down the grand spiral staircase, their frantic footsteps echoing through the empty, cavernous hotel. Yujin was dragged along, his legs barely moving, his mind completely blank with shock. Ricky was suddenly there, his strong hand gripping Yujin's arm, pulling him forward with an unyielding force. "Stay close to me," Ricky commanded, his voice cold and steady amidst the rising panic of the others. Bursting through the heavy double doors of the lobby, they ran out into the freezing courtyard. Smell of iron and fresh snow hit Yujin's senses, making him gag. Hao fell to his knees in the snow, sobbing uncontrollably as he tried to touch Hanbin's cold hand. "Don't touch him!" Jiwoong warned, his voice shaking. "We don't know what happened." "Look at the wall," Gunwook whispered, his voice barely a gasp. Painted in thick, dark blood on the pristine stone wall behind Hanbin's body were the words: 'Next is your turn.' Letters were jagged and uneven, with thick droplets of blood dripping down the stone. Before anyone could scream, a loud, mechanical groan shook the courtyard. Massive steel security doors began to slide down over the hotel's entrance, sealing the windows and exits with heavy, industrial iron. Clanging shut with a final, echoing thud, the doors locked them inside the darkness. "No, no, no!" Gunwook threw himself against the metal barrier, pounding his fists until his knuckles bled. Trapped in a luxury tomb. --- Jiwoong ran to the heavy iron doors, trying to find a latch or a release mechanism, but the metal was smooth and seamless. "They're locked from the outside," Jiwoong gasped, his eyes darting around the courtyard. "The whole hotel is sealed. We're trapped in here." "Who would do this?" Matthew cried, wrapping his arms around himself. "We're the only ones here! The staff... where did the staff go?" Taerae's pale face looked toward the dark corridors leading back into the hotel. "They must have left before the doors closed. Or... they're dead too." Hao was still kneeling by Hanbin's body, his hands covered in snow and his friend's blood. "We have to get him inside," Hao sobbed. "We can't leave him out here in the cold." "He's dead, Hao," Gunwook said, his voice cracking. "He's gone. We have to save ourselves." Yujin stood frozen, his eyes locked on the bloody message on the wall. Next is your turn. Was it meant for him? Or was it meant for all of them? Cold hand slipped into his, the fingers long and elegant, squeezing his hand until it hurt. Looking up, Yujin met Ricky's gaze. Ricky's sharp face was calm, his golden hair catching the dim light of the courtyard lamps. "Don't look at the blood, Yujin," Ricky murmured, his voice incredibly smooth, completely unaffected by the horror surrounding them. "Look at me." "Ricky, how can you be so calm?" Yujin whispered, his voice trembling. "Hanbin is dead. We are locked in here with a killer." "You are safe with us," Ricky replied, his thumb brushing over the back of Yujin's hand in a slow, possessive circle. "Nothing will happen to you. I promise." Gyuvin stepped closer, his tall, imposing figure blocking out the rest of the frantic group. He reached out and gently pulled the hood of the cashmere coat over Yujin's head, shielding him from the falling snow. "Let's go back inside," Gyuvin said, his voice carrying an eerie authority. "It's freezing out here, and we need to secure the lobby." "How can you think about the lobby right now?" Taerae snapped, his panic turning into anger. "Our friend is lying here murdered!" Gyuvin slowly turned his head to look at Taerae. His eyes were dark, cold, and entirely devoid of empathy. "If you want to stay out here and freeze next to his corpse, be my guest," Gyuvin said, his voice flat and dangerous. "But Yujin is going inside." Sheer coldness in Gyuvin's voice made Taerae flinch and step back. Nobody dared to argue. They slowly retreated back into the grand lobby, the heavy glass doors shutting behind them, separating them from Hanbin's body. Lobby was dark, the only light coming from the dying embers of the fireplace. Shadows stretched long and distorted across the high ceiling, making the massive room feel even more menacing. Jiwoong paced back and forth, his boots squeaking on the marble floor. "We need to find a way out," Jiwoong said, trying to keep his voice steady. "There must be a security room. A place where the controls for the steel doors are kept." "I'll come with you," Gunwook offered, his jaw clenched. "No, we should stay together," Matthew pleaded, clutching Gunwook's sleeve. "What if the killer is waiting in the dark?" Hao sat on one of the velvet sofas, his head buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Taerae stood near the fireplace, staring blankly at the ashes. Yujin sat on a separate armchair, the heavy cashmere coat still wrapped around him. He felt completely numb, his mind unable to process the speed at which his world had shattered. Gyuvin and Ricky stood on either side of his chair, like two silent guardians—or captors. They didn't speak to the others, their attention entirely focused on Yujin. Every time Yujin shivered, Gyuvin would adjust the coat. To anyone else, it might have looked like deep devotion. But to Yujin, it felt like a trap tightening around his neck. He remembered the little details over the past few years. Stalker had known his exact coffee order. Mysterious benefactor had paid off his family's debts. Gyuvin and Ricky always seemed to know when he was sad, when he was alone, when he was scared. Could it be? No, they were his friends. But as Yujin looked up at their calm, unbothered faces, a dark, terrifying realization began to take root in his mind. They weren't afraid of the killer. It was as if they had expected this. --- "We need to check the basement," Jiwoong decided, gesturing to Gunwook. "The main power and security systems are usually down there." "Be careful," Taerae whispered. As Jiwoong and Gunwook disappeared down the dark corridor leading to the basement, the silence in the lobby grew heavier. Yujin stared at the floor, his heart hammering against his ribs. Scent of the cashmere coat was overwhelming—sandalwood and expensive rain. It was the same scent he had smelled on the letters left on his doorstep. Realization hit him like a physical blow. Stalker who had terrorized him for months... Shadow that had mapped his every breath... It wasn't a stranger. It was them. Yujin's breath hitched, his chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow gasps. He tried to pull his hand away from Ricky's grip, but Ricky's fingers tightened instantly, his nails digging slightly into Yujin's skin. "Easy, Yujin," Ricky murmured, leaning down so only Yujin could hear. "You're safe. Just breathe." "Let go," Yujin whispered, his voice trembling with a new kind of terror. Ricky didn't let go. Instead, his grip became firmer, a silent promise that he would never let go again. On his other side, Gyuvin reached down, his long fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from Yujin's pale forehead. His touch was feather-light, yet it felt like a brand burning into Yujin's skin. "Don't worry about the others," Gyuvin whispered, his dark eyes shining with an intense, terrifying light. "They don't matter. Only you matter." Yujin stared at him, his eyes wide with horror. "You..." Yujin choked out, his voice barely audible. "What did you do?" Gyuvin didn't answer. He only smiled, a beautiful, chilling smile that reached his eyes but held no warmth. Suddenly, a cold draft swept through the lobby, rustling the heavy velvet curtains. Up above, through the high glass ceiling of the atrium, something drifted down from the stormy sky. It was a single, white feather, floating lazily through the air. Yujin watched it, his eyes tracking its slow descent. As it drifted closer, Yujin saw the dark, crimson liquid coating its tips. It was a bloody feather, likely torn from a bird caught in the violent mountain winds. Feather drifted over the balcony railing, falling slowly through the empty space of the lobby. It landed softly, silently, on the pristine white sleeve of Gyuvin's jacket. Dark blood stained the expensive fabric instantly, a stark red mark against the pure white. Yujin held his breath, waiting for Gyuvin to react, to brush it off in disgust. But Gyuvin didn't flinch. He didn't even look at the stain. Instead, he slowly turned his head toward Yujin, his smile widening into something dark and terribly beautiful. He leaned down, his breath warm against Yujin's ear, and whispered the final words. A single, bloody feather drifts up from the courtyard, landing on Gyuvin's pristine white sleeve, but Gyuvin doesn't flinch—he merely smiles and whispers, 'Now the real party begins.'

Chapter 1: A Midnight Toast to Blood