People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can...
Ups! Ten obraz nie jest zgodny z naszymi wytycznymi. Aby kontynuować, spróbuj go usunąć lub użyć innego.
Seunggi lifted the cigarette to his slightly chapped lips and took another drag, slowly gliding his gaze over the rather large group of young people gathered outside one of the newly opened clubs located on the opposite side of the street. The sharp neon sign dyed his face orange and its light was hurting his eyes, but he nevertheless did not take his investigative gaze off them. He watched them closely, but preferred to stay out of their gazes. So he stood leaning sloppily against his car, under one of the wide-spreading trees, hiding in its shade.
He had already finished his work for the day and perhaps should have gone home, but something called him back to this part of town. He was already heading toward his small apartment he was renting in one of Seoul's poorer neighborhoods, but some voice in the back of his head whispered to him to head right here. In recent days, this strange voice seemed to intensify and appeared more and more frequently. Perhaps he, too, had a dark passenger inside him, like serial killer Dexter from a TV series he once watched? Perhaps something had entered him after what happened on Monday, or perhaps this demon had always been there, and now only his voice was becoming more pronounced. After all, it is said that appetite grows with food.
Now he also felt this strange hunger that he needed to satisfy...
It must have been an hour since he arrived here, maybe even more, but nothing caught his attention. He headed here because this was the district famous for its rich nightlife scene - Itaewon. He carefully scanned with his eyes the young people entering and leaving the numerous bars and clubs, particularly focusing his attention on the one just across the street. It was one of the biggest and most popular clubs in recent weeks, and he knew that the trendiest places also attract the most people.
He didn't mean just anyone. Oh, no. He wanted to find someone who, in his eyes, deserved to be punished. On someone who was a carrier of that nasty disease, as he liked to call it. The damn thing was spreading at an alarming rate, rotting society like gangrene through infected tissues, poisoning the entire body and leading to inevitable death. He had to stop it before he, too, began to change.
He was already about to lift the burning cigarette to his lips to, taking one last drag, extinguish the cigarette butt, when suddenly something, or rather someone, caught his attention - a young man who had just moments ago emerged from behind the door of the pub he was watching. He stopped motionless, letting his eyes follow the stranger as he, staggering slightly, passed a group of girls standing in front of the premises.
The boy was wearing light-colored jeans with a tear at the left knee and a plain white T-shirt. A leather jacket rested on his shoulders. On the surface, he might have looked like an ordinary Korean, but there was something unusual about him - the stranger had long, mid-back-length, raven-black hair. He didn't often see men with such long hair in Korea, but he saw one the other day. Intrigued, he took a step forward to get a better look at him, but still couldn't make out his face. He cursed under his breath and was already about to take another step when suddenly the stranger, as if feeling his gaze on him, turned his face toward him, and that was enough for him to know.
