DJshivers

On what should have been the happiest trip of their lives, Arjun Mehra, an ex-military officer from India, travels to South Korea with his pregnant wife Meera for their honeymoon. But in a single brutal moment, their world shatters.

Caught in the crossfire of a violent gang war on the neon-lit streets of Busan, Meera is tragically killed. Arjun, wounded and broken, barely survives. The woman responsible — Ji-Yeon, a ruthless and enigmatic leader of the Black Vipers syndicate — leaves Arjun for dead, never imagining the storm she’s awakened.

Haunted by grief and driven by vengeance, Arjun must rise from the ashes of his loss. Alone in a foreign land and hunted by dangerous enemies, he draws upon his combat training, martial arts mastery, and sniper skills to track down the woman who stole everything from him.
But the path of revenge is paved with betrayal, blood, and buried secrets. In a world where honor means nothing and loyalty is bought in bullets, Arjun must decide whether he’s a man seeking justice… or a monster born from it.

Crimson Vow is a brutal, emotional, and action-packed thriller about love lost, relentless vengeance, and the unbreakable will of a man who refuses to die quietly.

Crimson Vows, Vengeance Runs Red

The first light of morning crept gently into Hana's dorm room, slipping between the blinds in soft streaks of pale gold. The rain had stopped sometime in the night, leaving the city washed clean and glistening under a crisp, clear sky. The distant hum of traffic returned to its steady rhythm, mingling with the occasional burst of birdsong from the trees lining the avenue.

Hana stirred from sleep, eyes fluttering open to find the familiar sight of her ceiling — the small crack in the plaster near the light fixture, the fading glow-in-the-dark stars she and Chae-Rin had stuck up during their first week in the dorm.

Her phone lay face down on the desk where she'd left it. The events of last night — the late call, the voice, the warning — floated hazily in her memory like the remnants of an unsettling dream.

She reached for it, scrolling through messages. Nothing strange. No missed calls. No evidence anything had happened at all.

Must've been a dream, she told herself.

An Hour Later — Campus Cafeteria

The Yonsei University cafeteria was bustling, its long communal tables crowded with students hunched over coffee cups and breakfast trays. The scent of freshly steamed rice, eggs, and miso soup mingled with the sharp tang of kimchi and soy sauce.

Hana sat by the window with Chae-Rin, who was animatedly recounting a story about one of the film majors making a scene at the night market after too much soju.

"I swear, Hana, he tried to confess to me three times," Chae-Rin was saying between bites of toast. "And then he tripped over a trash can and face-planted in front of a whole group of freshmen. It was beautiful."

Hana laughed, the warmth of her friend's presence shaking off some of the weight from the night before.

"You always attract the weird ones."

"Hey, weird is where the fun is. You should try it sometime," Chae-Rin teased. "You've been way too quiet lately."

Chae-Rin gave her a look. "Hana… you said that last week. And the week before."

Hana poked at her rice, debating whether to say anything about the phone call. In the end, she decided against it. It felt too silly, too small in the bright, busy light of morning.

"Are you going to the open mic at the amphitheater tonight?"

Chae-Rin grinned. "Duh. Min-Jun's performing some weird indie track he swears is 'hauntingly beautiful.' I need to be there to heckle him."

They both laughed, the easy, familiar sound carrying above the noise of the cafeteria.

Later — On Campus

Hana's morning class was uneventful — a seminar on 20th-century East Asian literature, the professor's voice a soothing drone that made the students around her nod off in their seats.

The sun warmed the stone paths outside, drying the last traces of rain. The trees lining the campus walkways held their autumn colors for another day, and the world felt gentle, unthreatening again.

But every now and then, Hana caught herself glancing over her shoulder.

A Message From Home

Between classes, a text arrived from her sister.

Sister: Hope you're eating well, dear. Call me when you get a chance. Love you.

It brought a smile to Hana's face.

Some things, at least, stayed constant.

Hana: I will, Unni. Everything's fine here. Love you too.

In that moment, everything was fine.

But as the day wore on, that strange, lingering weight in the pit of her stomach refused to leave.

And when evening came, and the city lights blinked back to life, something unseen was still moving in the dark, a world away — but inching closer.

MORNING LIGHT