Risky Masquerade

13

It was not a dark and stormy night. Do-bong saw a breezy and pleasant evening descend upon the eerily tranquil sea.

The Devil walked with his hands dug into the pockets of his grey trousers. He hadn't changed out of his uniform,  looking immodest with his tie hanging loosely and his shirt half tucked into the pants.

However, the Devil couldn't care less. The town looked spooky, like those mysterious hamlets in horror movies. Not a single soul corrupted the streets at night. 

He halted in front of the building he had visited sometime back, its sanguinary glory almost piercing the sky. He entered the Joseon-styled Red Palace, which found itself on the list of the 'Top 10 attractions of Do-bong'. For tourists, it was an epitome of forbidden love, a symbol of passion and romance.

But he knew what this place was like during its apogee.

The killings of those who believed in what is right; those who sought literacy and egalitarianism back in those days.
His memory haunted him, spooked him beyond measure over the fact that he, as one of the most powerful forces in the universe, couldn't save those who gave their lives in his name.

His eyes wandered the familiar pillars,
the paint which still laced the walls, the dragons carved on the panels like buttresses.
He remembered everything.

But he suddenly became very still.
He heard the sound of dry leaves crunching under footsteps which were very careful and discreet.

He stood calm.
No force could ever outwit him.
He waited for this person to arrive.
Was he expecting someone?

A man wearing a loose-fitted modernised Hanbok over sandals found himself at the entrance as the Devil, turned around, his lips flaunting the trademark sinister smirk.

"Min Yoongi. How lovely to see you!", he waved at the man who smiled.

"Long time no see, my lord."