Mental Asylum || PURINZ

017

"Do you know how to use a gun?" Yunjin asked as she drew back the curtains to peer outside.

"No," I admitted.

"Can you handle a knife if you have to?"

"I suppose," I replied.

She opened the kitchen cabinets, revealing an array of jars. From a large, seemingly empty cookie jar, she pulled out a gun.

I stared at her in shock.

"What? I keep my weapons where no one can find them," she explained, nonchalant.

She handed me a substantial knife. "Take this and go to my room. Hide there until I say it's okay."

"But—"

"If I don't come for you in ten minutes, stay hidden," she instructed, a serious look in her eyes. The potential danger outside was palpable.

Considering Yunjin's ability to handle tough situations, I wrestled with the question of how severe the threat outside could be compared to Jen.

Hurriedly, I made my way to the bedroom, closed the door, and huddled under the bed, clutching the knife tightly. My hands shook with nervous tension.

Silence hung outside, intensifying my anxiety.

Why wasn't Yunjin engaging with whoever was out there?

Had the person harmed Jen and taken her away?

What if Yunjin was injured outside, and the intruder came for me?

What then?

Should I use the knife to defend myself?

As a nurse, I had assisted in surgeries and never had an issue with blood, but the thought of intentionally causing harm made me shudder. I hoped desperately that Yunjin was okay.

The bedroom door creaked open a little while later.

I held my breath, and suddenly, a hand seized my ankle.

I screamed so loudly that the birds outside scattered.

"Relax, it's me," Yunjin said as she looked down at me.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" I exclaimed, crawling out from under the bed.

Her face was hard to read. "I suggest you don't see this. You won't like it."

"I have to see it," I insisted.

"You won't be able to handle it," she warned.

"Who was at the door?"

"No one. The person only left a package."

My frustration grew. Why wasn't Yunjin offering explanations instead of leaving me to ask these unsettling questions?

"What's in the package?" I asked hesitantly, dreading the answer.

"For the love of God, Chae! Could you just let it go?"

"No, I won't!" I declared, leaving the room.

"Chaewon!" She kept calling me, but it was too late.

On the table, an unwrapped box lay. The shiny wrapping was torn, and a pink ribbon dangled loosely.

The box was red, though its original color was obscured by stains—stains that emanated a putrid odor.

The sight was nightmarish. Inside the box lay a human heart.

A human heart.

A quick, involuntary closing of the box followed.

Whose heart was it?