OBSESSION IN A PHOTOGRAPH | verivery

lost in distant memories

flashback : one year ago

A rhythmic ringtone echoed in the thin walls of a cozy home. The night sky was hanging over the outskirts of Seoul. The sound of leaves crackling underneath dirt-caked sneakers haunted the mind of a young male as he tossed around in his bed. Hong Minchan sighed softly, a pile of comic books strewn over his bed. His eyes were closed, a corner of a comic book tucked into his closed palm as he tried to rest from a tiring day at work.

The buzzing of his phone was continuous, it's hum fading out and then crescendoing. Minchan reached out towards the nightstand where his phone was settled at. The darkness of the room lessened as Minchan's phone screen lit up a part of the room.

Someone was calling him. Yoo Kangmin.

"Kangmin?" Minchan whispered to himself, his eyebrows furrowed. He shook his head, I'm too tired-my phone's battery is low too.

Minchan tossed the phone aside, letting the ringing drown his thoughts as he laid down calmly on his bed, sleep enveloping him in gentle hold as he dozed off slowly. For some reason, from a distance, he could hear the fabric of clothing being teared as a body was being dragged across an earthy forest, fog hovering over it like an enormous cloud.

Muffled sobs filled Minchan's ears, the eerie noise of a hammer being swung down to a victim's body. The dark haired male's curled his fingers, the night sky dripping away like morning dew on humid grass. Soon enough, morning came by with loud knocks on the front door of Minchan's apartment.

"Investigator Hong! Are you in there?!" A policemen shouted, their fist pounding the door.

Ink smears marked Minchan's fingertips-sticky and gritty as it had dried over the skin of his fingers. An ink pen had splattered on his hand, leaving specks of black liquid on his left hand. A golden stream of light peeked through a gap in between the white curtains in Minchan's room, the light layers of fabric wavering along with wind's movements. The warm light fell over the young male's face, his eyes cracking open in shock.

Minchan sat up in a quick movement of his back. Had he been dreaming? It felt so vivid. The sound of a hammer or a knife cutting through skin . . . was Kangmin hurt?

"Hong Minchan-ssi! Please come out!" Minchan turned to the loud shouts, wiping his hands on his loose t-shirt. His feet dragging along the wooden floor. At the entryway, he slipped on a pair of slippers. The moment he pulled the door open, his heart began to tick uncontrollably like a bullet locking into place inside of a chamber of a pistol.

"Is there something wrong?" Minchan's voice was slow due to his long sleep.

A taller policeman smoothed out his blue dress shirt, the bright wine colored tie was loosened from a frustrating night of searching and answering crime-based calls. "Do you know Yoo Kangmin?"

Minchan nodded, lips sealed as the next phrase of the police officer made him stumble against the seal of the doorway. His irises were shaking, face contorting with confusion and fear. The luster of sweat coming down at the back of his neck.

Yoo Kangmin is missing.

A step backward was all it took for Minchan to be sucked into a void of guilt. He shut the door of his apartment, his body automatically shut down. Minchan hurried to search for the remote of the TV on his bedroom. Once he turned it on, a headline of a news reporting company made his skin grow colder. A female anchor was announcing the sudden disappearance of a young male, Yoo Kangmin. His disappearance had no leads, no clues, no answers. The last question the anchor asked was: Could this young boy be alive after fourteen hours? As known, a serial killer is still on the loose. Are these cases connected?