Arkangel || A Winter / Karina / WinRina Adventure

Wild Animal

She never saw Well again. For months she tried to be the person she was when they were together, but without Well's smile and hugs, she just wasted away, leaving emptiness, anger, and resentment toward the world.

Min spent the next eight years being shuffled back and forth between orphanages and harsh juvenile delinquent facilities. She'd been tested and examined so many times by psychologists and social workers that she knew to just play along until they left her alone.

One observation that consistently arose during her psychological evaluations was "The subject displays little or no empathy toward others, lacks emotion, intellectually acute but fragmented." Whether or not that was true, things usually went this way: Min got in a vicious fight with another resident, and then Min was locked in a room alone for weeks.

She was released when she turned 18. By then, years of fighting had made her physically and mentally brutal, and had honed her senses to an incredible degree. She also had the scars of six stab wounds. And yes, she was devoid of any affection for the world and humanity as a whole. The world existed for her to shape as she pleased. People were just puppets, toys. The way she wanted to shape it was how it was exactly one day before she and Well were separated. Then she could freeze that day in time, and always be with the stranger who became her father.

Ironically, the social services agency provided no support when she was released, so she was homeless again. Her first stop in Seoul was the alley where she and Well had lived. It was no longer the little village it had once seemed to her. Now it was just a grimy space filled with rotting garbage. But Min still touched the ground where their cardboard home had been.

Only one thing could bring emotions out of her. "Well," she whispered, "I'm so lost and scared. I don't know how to live without you. But you saved me, Well. You saved me. I love you and I miss you... so much."

Min walked to a nearby park and sat down, enjoying the sunlight on her face. They had given her $50 when they released her, so she had some money for food. The rest she would use to buy something special she'd waited for years to get. Then she'd be sleeping under cardboard again.

She spent the next six weeks homeless again, a lifestyle that was now second nature to her. But one thing had changed. She knew from childhood that there were people who preyed on and exploited this vulnerable population - thieves, pimps, crooked cops, even killers. She had seen homeless people with horrible injuries from beatings, limps from broken limbs they couldn't afford to have treated, and those who had all their possessions stolen, leaving them almost naked. They suffered and suffered, and evaporated like the smoke from a blown out candle.

Not anymore. She would make sure they didn't get hurt anymore. She would make sure that the people who hurt them suffered.

. . . . .

One warm night Min hid in the bushes near a small encampment of street people. One of them had told Min that the enforcers from a local drug gang were coming to the camp to shake the residents down for all their money. First the gangs would find the poor addicts in a group, supply them with free drugs, and after a week or so, once they were hooked, they would come to collect their money. And everyone else's.

At about midnight, a large black SUV trimmed in gold screeched to a halt in front of the camp. Six young men, wearing tank tops and laughing loudly, walked toward the residents.

Min took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Life made sense now.

She crawled through the underbrush until she was behind a makeshift tent. Immediately she heard a woman begging for her life. She had the voice of an old person. Every muscle in Min's body tightened and a scream began to rise from her throat.

She rushed at the confused man and drove her forearm into his throat. From the waistband of her pants she took out the thing she had bought with her leftover money.

A six-inch, double-edged, powder-coated tactical knife in a deep flat black to keep it from reflecting light.

The man stumbled backwards with Min's forearm still crunching his throat, and she was holding on tight to a handful of his hair. She was still screaming like a wild animal. Once he hit the ground with her on top, she stabbed him over and over and over until she could hear foamy blood gurgling from his side.

She didn't even bother to be stealthy. She walked up to the next man, the knife dripping blood, and rushed him. When she reached him, he swung a fist and caught Min in the side of the head and her knees went weak for a few moments. Reflexively, she swung the knife around in her hand, and began pounding his face with the handle. He threw up his hands to protect himself, and Min spun the knife around again, and stabbed him so hard the knife passed through his hand and into a spot beneath his eye. Panting, she stood over his writhing body, and then pounded the knife into his head.

But now the other four men were rushing toward her. Looking around desperately, she saw that the man she just killed had a gun in his waistband. They would start firing, and she needed to lead them away from the encampment, so she began running toward a nearby stand of trees.

She assumed that they would think she would run as far and as fast as possible. So once she was inside the trees a hundred feet or so, she quickly circled back around and hid near the entrance. Sure enough, all four men went rushing into the dark forest. To Min, so full of anger, this was like a buffet.

The gang member who was at the back of the line as they ran suddenly realized that there was a fifth member running behind him. He wheeled around, and in an instant Min had him in a headlock as she stabbed him over and over.

She didn't have to work too hard on the next one. She simply caught up to him and jammed the blade between two of the vertebrae in his neck. He slumped to the ground as if he had no skeleton. Min jumped over him. Two to go.

The next man turned around and Min jammed the palm of her hand up under his chin, then reached around the back of his neck, and with a scream pushed his head back until she heard his neck snap.

The final man had a different destiny. He had seen five of his friends die in the last three minutes, and had no wish to join them. He put up his hands.

"Don't kill me! I'm just following orders. Why do you care about them anyway? They're trash, that's all."

Min sighed. "I'm not going to kill you."

Two hours later a young man went to the emergency room. The nurse saw him and gasped.

"VAMPIRE" had been carved on his forehead.

. . . . .

Over the next months, Min did the best she could to protect the homeless, her people. Stories began making the rounds, and the police were making an effort to catch this brutal vigilante.

But to the outcasts, Min wasn't just someone who protected them. She was hope. She proved that they could protect themselves. Her actions spoke for a people who had their voice stolen. For the people who hurt them, a new season had begun, one that wouldn't be good for them. So around Seoul graffiti began appearing.

BEWARE!

WINTER IS COMING.