beomgyu lost his sight - along with everyone else on earth - in the great blinding. two years later, without warning, his sight returns. as he look around, he realizes that every available wall, floor and surface has been painted with the same messa...
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We ran and ran, tin roofs making noises as we stepped on them, as if they were going to collapse any time. But the black-haired boy had such a firm grip on my wrist that I could not stop and tell him that running on unstable roofs may not be the best idea, as of now.
In the fullness of time, his footsteps slowed down as he hastily removed a tile from one of the roofs, revealing an opening to the inside of the house. Without hesitation, he leaps in and lands inside the room, before looking up at me.
"Don't just stand there! Jump!" He urges me.
I pondered for an instant, then followed his instruction. I felt my body hit the rigid, wooden floor, and a sharp glimpse of pain shot through my left arm.
"You okay?" The boy offers a hand, which I gripped in struggle to stand up. "Yeah," I nod, and he looked visibly relieved. "Follow me," he walks ahead.
The house wasn't big, but it was cosy with a wooden interior. A single armchair rested beside an unlit bonfire, with a few pillows messily discarded over the furnitures. On a nearby table, a broken radio repeated itself time after time. "Today is... buzz... today is ..."
"Come on," The boy stopped in his tracks and squatted down, uncovering a corner of the carpet. It was a jib door, a door almost entirely camouflaged into the rest of the wooden floor, and he lifted it up, revealing a small basement.
"Welcome to my headquarters," He grins, then gestures to the inside of the basement, "After you."
I grasped onto the nylon ladder hanging from the side as I made my way slowly down. The boy follows, but suddenly remembers something, so he neaten the carpet, making it look as it was before, then closing the door with a thud.
Plunging down from the ladder, he wipes the dust off his hands and gives me a small smile. "Heard of me before?"
"Of course not," I frown, and he looked a little surprised, "Really? I guess they don't tell you anything."
I gave him a confused look, then it hit me. " 'Them'? You're the one that warned me, didn't you?"
"I guess you're not as dumb as I thought you would be, Beomgyu," The boy laughs, "I'm Yeonjun. Choi Yeonjun."
"Choi Yeonjun..." I trailed off, scanning through my memory for such a name, "Oh! When Soobin sent me food last month, he was asking me if I had seen someone named Yeonjun. It was odd."
"Soobin, huh?" He inches toward me, looking directly into my eyes, "Beomgyu, have you seen the town council? In person, I mean."
I take a deep breath, trying to erase the gruesome scene I had just witnessed from my mind. "I saw them... I saw them dead."
"That's right," He agrees, "But this morning, you've just heard Mr. Kim — Kim Seohan — speak on the radio, right?" He had seemed to notice my uneasiness, so he softens his tone, as if talking to a naive child.
"I did." I echo after him, unsure of where he is getting.
"Precisely. The ones controlling our town now..." He looks away, as if deep in thought. "Might not be who it seems to be."
"Don't trust anyone."
Don't trust anyone, including you? I wanted to ask, but I caught his genuine gaze, so I swallowed the question back in. I look at him, waiting for him to continue.
"The boy — Taehyun, I mean, who confronted you — he was my friend. Used to be, at least. I watched him die right before me, but..." He trailed off, eyes dimming, his brown pupils enveloped in some sort of emotion I couldn't understand. Then, as if snapping out of a daydream, he looked back up at me again. "But I saw him today. He talked to you, even. It reminded me that before he died, Soobin had also talked to him."
"So when I heard what he said to you, everything began to make sense. What he had told you was exactly what Soobin had mentioned to him, which was odd."
"Then, I understood. They are all dead, Beomgyu. They are not who they appear to be."
I gaze into his eyes, trying to search for a hint of dishonesty in them — but to no avail. He was sincere, and I couldn't tell if I was feeling utter confusion or grief. I wanted to say something, but I realised that I, in fact, have no idea how to respond. All I could manage was a small, "What?"
"Beomgyu," He gripped onto my shoulders, and I could feel the tremble in his hands, and how agitated he was at the moment. "I don't know who, or what killed our friends, but I suspect that..." He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, "They are clones."
"Clones?" I was in a state of utter disbelief, and the only thing I could do was to echo mindlessly after him.
"Yes. You saw the town council dead, but they still managed to talk on the radio this morning. I had witnessed Taehyun's death, but he confronted you today. They might have been replaced by...clones."
Maybe it was our close proximity or the words he had propelled that had made me feel trapped, confined, and I felt like I couldn't breathe. I push his hands away, walking over to the couch and slumping onto it. The softness of the furniture enveloped me, and I felt the long-awaited sense of comfort that I was looking for.
Yeonjun turned to look at me, and I could see his eyes glistening under the illumination of the dim, yellowish lamp, brimming with some complicated feeling.
"You must be tired today. Have a good rest, Beomgyu." He seemed like he wanted to say more, but instead, he turned around to switch off the lamp.
Then, everything vanished into darkness, melting into a mass of soothing relief.
