Chapter 3: A shadow in the night

Four days after leaving the hospital, I sat at my tiny desk, staring at my laptop screen. Rejected. Rejected. Rejected. The word burned into my mind as I scrolled through one failed job application after another. My wounds had mostly healed—thanks to those strange flowers—but my bank account wasn't so lucky. Bills didn't wait for anyone, not even someone recovering from a near-death experience.

I sighed, rubbing my temples as my eyes landed on a new job listing. Shopkeeper's assistant. The hours were brutal—2 PM to midnight—and the location wasn't exactly safe. The rundown part of town had a reputation for being... well, sketchy. But what choice did I have?

"What's the worst that could happen?" I muttered, though the pit in my stomach told me otherwise. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating. Then, like a cruel whisper, another thought crept in. *If he had just given me the $10,000 instead of the hospital, I wouldn't even need this job.*

I shook my head, scolding myself. "Stop it, Kim. He's a heartless monster. Why would he care about you?" My voice sounded bitter, even to me. I slammed the laptop shut and leaned back in my chair, trying to push the memory of his masked face out of my mind.

The next day, I went to the shop to apply. The owner, a wiry man with nervous eyes, handed me the keys after a brief interview. "Look, it's not safe around here," he said, avoiding my gaze. "You should bring someone with you when you close up. I'd work nights myself if I could."

I forced a smile. "I'll be fine. My brother can help." The lie tasted sour, but I didn't want to seem weak. I didn't have a brother—or anyone, really.

The first week passed uneventfully, though I noticed the streets grew quieter as the clock neared midnight. Then, there was the man. He lingered near the shop's entrance, his eyes following me like a predator sizing up its prey. For several nights, I saw him watching me, sometimes even trailing me partway home.

I tried to ignore him, but his presence gnawed at my nerves. On the tenth night, when he didn't show up, I felt a strange sense of relief. "Maybe tonight will be different," I whispered to myself as I locked up the shop. The clock read 12:11 AM.

The streets were eerily quiet as I walked home. The cold wind bit at my cheeks, and the dim streetlights cast long, flickering shadows. I pulled my jacket tighter, quickening my pace. My apartment wasn't far—just 3 kilometers—but the silence made every step feel heavier.

Then I heard it. A faint shuffle behind me. My heart raced as I turned my head, catching the shadowy figures of two men trailing me. Panic surged through my veins, and I quickened my pace, but more figures emerged at every turn.

By the time I realized I was surrounded, six men had closed in, their smirks dripping with malice.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" one of them sneered, his voice sending chills down my spine. He was tall, muscular, and carried a metal pipe in his hand.

"I don't want any trouble," I said, my voice trembling. "Just let me go."

They laughed—a cruel, mocking sound that made my stomach churn. One of them stepped closer, reaching out to touch my face. I slapped his hand away, but the defiance earned me a hard slap across the cheek.

Pain exploded through my head as I stumbled, falling to my knees. My phone slipped from my hands, clattering uselessly to the ground. I tried to scream, but fear choked the sound in my throat.

The leader of the group—the man who had been watching me for days—stepped forward, his smirk widening. He wasn't alone. More men appeared, their weapons gleaming in the dim light.

"Don't bother screaming," he taunted. "No one's coming for you."

Tears stung my eyes as I whispered, "Please... don't..."

They circled me like vultures, their laughter echoing in the empty street. My strength was fading, and one thought consumed me: *No one can save me now.*

A soft grunt broke through the laughter. One of the men fell to the ground, blood pooling beneath him. The others froze, their confusion quickly turning to fear.

"What the—" the leader began, but another man dropped before he could finish.

One by one, they fell. The darkness itself seemed to come alive, striking them down with deadly precision. The mocking laughter was replaced by panicked shouts as they realized they were being hunted.

"Stay close!" the leader barked, his voice trembling. "Watch each other's backs!"

But it was useless. The unseen predator moved like a shadow, silent and unstoppable. Within moments, most of the men lay lifeless on the ground.

The leader grabbed me, dragging me up by my arm. My body was too weak to resist as he shoved me toward one of his men. "Take her! Use her as bait!" he hissed.

The man held me tightly, pressing a gun to my temple. My heart pounded as the killing stopped. The street fell silent, the air thick with tension.

"Come out!" the leader shouted. "You care about her, don't you? Show yourself, or I'll blow her brains out!"

A figure stepped into the dim light. My breath caught as I recognized him. The hood, the mask—it was him.

The leader sneered. "Kneel."

He obeyed without hesitation, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Take off your mask," the leader demanded.

His voice was cold, emotionless. "Even if you kill her, I won't remove my mask."

The leader faltered, his confidence wavering. "Fine. Let us take her, and we'll let you go."

He stood, his posture unyielding. "You think you can stop me? Foolish dogs. You're already dead."

Before the leader could react, he moved like a gust of wind. The man holding me dropped instantly, his blood splattering across the pavement.

The leader raised his rifle, aiming it at me. "If I'm going down, I'll take her with me!"

The shot rang out, but he was faster. He shielded me with his body, the bullet tearing through his arm. With one swift motion, he eliminated the remaining men.

The street fell silent, the heavy scent of blood thick in the air. My body felt like it was sinking into the cold pavement, my strength drained completely. My thoughts were slipping away, but somewhere in the haze, I saw him—his shadowy figure kneeling beside me.

I wasn't sure if I was dreaming or awake, but I felt his hand, steady and warm, pressing lightly against my wrist. Was he checking my pulse? The thought barely formed before exhaustion pulled me deeper into unconsciousness.

Through heavy eyelids, I caught one last glimpse of him. He was lifting me, his movements careful, almost gentle. My mind fought to hold onto the image as the darkness swallowed me whole.