Killer's Kiss

Chapter seven

Chaeyoung's eyes creaked open, her honeysuckle irises catching fragments of the room around her. Every joint in her body screamed in protest, her fingertips tingled with a numbing void, and her heart thumped at an unnervingly slow rhythm. Is this dying? The thought drifted through her mind like a fragile whisper as she struggled to survey her surroundings with the little strength she could muster.

''Ugh...'' The sound escaped her parched lips, muffled by the white pillow cradling her head. Her body burned, a raging inferno coursing through every nerve, demanding tears that spilled freely from the corners of her eyes. Each breath was a battle, and her dry, trembling lips quivered under the weight of agony. Her sweat-soaked clothes clung to her skin like a second layer, sticky and maddeningly itchy, adding yet another layer of torment.

''Hey, hey...'' A voice cut through the haze, soft yet strangely hollow. It wrapped around her like silk threads, warm but unsettling, pulling her taut like a marionette under unseen strings. Chaeyoung's body slackened despite itself, her instincts screaming in vain. ''Take a breath, angel. What happened to you? Who --fuck, who's done this to you?''

Her voice faltered in her throat; she couldn't respond even if she wanted to. The figure bent closer, hands gripping her shoulders with a gentle urgency. Chaeyoung's blurry vision caught flickers of the woman—long, wavy black hair, broad shoulders, and a commanding presence that loomed over her fragile state. Something deep within her rebelled, an instinctive alarm blaring as recognition teased the edge of her consciousness. Her hazy mind couldn't attach a name to the figure before her, but unease coiled in her gut.

''Leave m-me...'' she croaked, her voice cracking, ''...a-alone.''

''No.'' The soothing lilt in the woman's voice vanished, replaced by a seething intensity. It cut through the air like steel. ''I need to know. Now.''

Lisa stood trembling, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles burned white. Fury churned in her veins like an untamed storm. She had entered the hospital intending to question survivors, to piece together the truth behind the carnage. But all coherent thought fled the moment her eyes fell on the blonde woman. Pale and lifeless-looking, she lay on the hospital bed like a wilting flower drained of color.

Only one thought consumed Lisa's mind now: Death. Death for every hand that had brought this misery upon the fragile woman before her. Rage bubbled like lava under her skin, searing away logic, narrowing her focus to blind wrath.

Why? The question gnawed at the edges of her fury, one she refused to confront. It could wait for another day—one she hoped would never come.

Lisa's trembling hands retreated from Chaeyoung's shoulders, though her resolve faltered with each step away from the bed. Her throat tightened, a growing weight pressing down on her chest as if she were leaving behind a piece of herself. No. She couldn't waste time on the broken blonde now. There were other witnesses—conscious ones—who could provide answers. She forced herself to focus, to shove aside the ache threatening to drag her back.

Her boots echoed faintly against the sterile floor as she approached another bed. The occupant, a man wrapped in bandages like a poorly patched doll, glared up at her with hollow, defeated eyes. ''Hello,'' Lisa said, softening her voice just enough to avoid spooking him.

The man's frown deepened. ''Hi?''

She offered a small, disarming smile. ''I don't bite, don't worry.'' Fishing her phone from her pocket, she tapped the recording button. She needed this conversation documented—no room for mistakes. ''I'm going to ask you a couple of questions.''

The man's expression soured. ''I'm not interested. Find someone else who is.''

''I wasn't asking.'' Her voice sharpened like a blade as she pulled up a chair, seating herself beside his bed. He wasn't going anywhere—not with his injuries.