8. The Seventh Kiler

The voice was unnervingly close, almost a whisper against the backdrop of silence that enveloped them. Kim's heart skipped a beat as he slowly pushed himself up from the ground, the earth beneath his fingers damp and cold. He tried to steady his breathing, feeling the air thick with tension, and he gripped his own arm, trying to ground himself.

"I'm here," he said softly, his voice barely more than a breath. His voice was trembling in the deep lonely night that was covered in the dark forest. Teh forest itself was more dangerous it became deeper and darker with his steps.

His hand reached out, and his fingers found her's. The warmth of her hand was a small comfort in the overwhelming darkness surrounding them. He held it tightly, almost desperately, as he squinted into the blackness. The night seemed to swallow them whole—no stars above, no moonlight filtering through the trees. Only the inky void and the strange, rhythmic pounding that echoed beneath their feet.

Kim's gaze flicked to the ground, but it offered no answers. The hammering sound—it was strange, out of place. It didn't belong in the stillness of the forest. "The hammering sound in the forest... it's strange," he murmured, more to himself than to her. His words were barely audible, but there was no doubt that they hung heavy in the air between them.

The voice answered back, sharp and shrill, as it hit the metal nearby. The sound of it sent a shiver down Kim's spine. It wasn't human, not in any way that he could understand. He looked at Yie, her face a shadow in the dark, her features partially illuminated by the faint glow of the moon that managed to break through the trees.

Without a word, they began to move, stepping cautiously toward the source of the sound. Their footsteps were quiet, almost as if the darkness itself were willing them to remain hidden. Kim's heart raced, and his senses were on high alert, scanning for any hint of danger in the deepening night. The silence around them was both comforting and oppressive, as if the forest itself held its breath.

Kim's voice broke the quiet again. "Ms. Yie," he said, his voice soft but edged with an underlying tension, "Why did you follow me? You heard what I said, didn't you? I told you—there could be a serial killer out here. It's not normal to trust someone blindly like that. Especially not someone like me."

His voice faltered slightly as he paused, his thoughts tangled in the complexity of their situation. He felt a strange vulnerability rise up in him, a rawness he hadn't expected to feel. "Especially someone from the finest trading family in the country."

He let the words hang in the air for a moment, his eyes flicking to her, searching for any sign of emotion, any hint of understanding. But there was nothing. She was as unreadable as the night itself.

Kim didn't dare ask any further questions. Not now. Not when he didn't even know if he was still in his own body. He wasn't even sure how he and Yie were connected, how close they really were in their lives, but something deep inside told him that there was a bond—an unspoken understanding between them. He couldn't explain it, but he felt it in his bones.

"Yie," he said, his voice quiet, yet strained with an undercurrent of fear. "Aren't you scared of that sound? Don't you feel it?"

There was a long pause before her voice broke through the stillness. It was faint, a murmur, but it carried with it a sense of mystery. The words didn't quite make sense. "It's... not what you think," she whispered. It wasn't a blessing, but there was something in her tone that unsettled him further. The way she said it, it almost felt like a warning, but there was nothing more to it—no further explanation. Only the echo of her voice lingering in the air.

Kim swallowed hard. "Yie," he said again, trying to calm his rising panic, "Why don't you turn on the flashlight on your phone? It's too dark. We need to see."

There was a moment of hesitation before Yie responded. "Are you afraid?" Her voice was soft but firm. "Do you think it's a trap set by the killer?"

She didn't argue, didn't question him any further. Instead, she slid her hand into her pocket and pulled out her phone. The small beam of light from the flashlight was a brief comfort in the oppressive darkness.

But then something changed. The moment Yie spoke, Kim froze. He could still feel her hand in his, could still hear her breathing beside him. But now, now something was off. He knew the sound was coming from ahead of them, but there was a growing dread in his chest, an inexplicable certainty that someone—or something—was behind him.

He tried to shake it off, but the feeling wouldn't leave him.

"Yie," he said, his voice trembling, "Are you sure you're not holding my hand?"

His words hung in the air, and the world seemed to stop for a moment. He waited for her response, but there was only silence. Then, without warning, Yie's hand slipped from his, and she froze.

Her breath caught in her throat. "What do you mean?" she asked, a sudden sharpness to her voice. She reached for her phone and quickly turned on the flashlight, the beam cutting through the darkness.

The light revealed something that made Kim's blood run cold.

In the beam of light, a figure emerged from the shadows, its shape barely distinguishable but unmistakably there. It was huge, towering over them, the dark form blocking their path. And then, just as quickly as the light illuminated the figure, another presence—cold, sinister—loomed behind them.

Kim's heart stopped. He yanked his hand back, his body reacting before his mind could catch up. "Noooooo!" he screamed, panic rising in his chest.

"Run!" he shouted, and without thinking, they took off. The sound of their feet pounding against the earth was deafening, but the echo of something else—something dark and relentless—pursued them, growing louder, closer with each passing moment.

Yie's breath was ragged beside him as they ran, her hand in his once more, but Kim was too frantic to notice. His only focus was the growing sound behind them, a presence that was closing in, no matter how fast they ran.

"Yie, we need to reach the end," Kim shouted, his voice filled with urgency. "We need to get there. We can't stop."

They pushed forward, desperation fueling their movements, until finally, they reached the clearing. But what they found there froze them both in their tracks.

The scene before them was bloodied, brutal—a nightmare made real. Two killers stood before them, blocking their escape. One held a blood-soaked knife in both hands, its blade gleaming under the faint light. The other was hidden behind a mask, its eyes cold and merciless.

Kim's chest tightened, his mind reeling. He had faced countless cases, solved countless mysteries, but nothing had prepared him for this. The terror, the rawness of it—he had never encountered a serial killer in the flesh, let alone two. It was too much, too real.

Yie collapsed beside him, her body going limp as her eyes fluttered shut.

Kim's voice was barely audible, tinged with disbelief. "It's always thrilling to read about serial killers in books," he said, his words shaking, "But this... this is real." His heart pounded in his chest as the world seemed to collapse around him. The darkness, the blood, the horror—it was all too much. His vision blurred, his mind screamed for him to wake up, but he couldn't.

Not now.

Not when it was all too real.