Annyeongz One-shots

16. Crimson Silence

The school was dead silent, shadows stretching long under the dim emergency lights that barely lit the deserted hallways. Yujin had slipped in through a side door, his usual haunt when he wanted a moment alone. He wasn’t here for anything serious—just to grab the pack of cigarettes he kept hidden beneath his desk in the old classroom. A habit he knew wasn’t allowed, but one he wasn’t willing to give up.

As he crouched down, fingers fumbling beneath the scratched wooden desk, a sudden chill brushed the back of his neck. Something was off.

His sharp gaze flicked toward the narrow alley beside the classroom—a cramped passageway usually ignored by everyone but janitors. That’s when he saw her.

Wonyoung.

She stood frozen in place, her frame rigid and pale as a ghost. Her wide eyes stared forward, unblinking, fixed on something that made her too terrified to move.

Yujin’s eyes followed her gaze—and his blood ran cold.

A man was there, steps slow and deliberate, clutching a blood-slicked knife in his hand. The glint of the blade caught the weak light as he took another measured step toward Wonyoung, who remained rooted to the spot.

Without hesitation, without a flicker of doubt, Yujin sprang into motion.

He pushed himself up, breath steady, muscles coiled like a spring. Running was easy; the adrenaline dulled the cold and the fear. He barreled through the alley, closing the distance in seconds.

His hands grabbed Wonyoung’s arm roughly, yanking her away from the path of the advancing killer. They crashed through the door of the adjacent classroom, and Yujin slammed it shut behind them, the heavy wooden door echoing through the silence.

Before Wonyoung could even catch her breath, Yujin pinned her against the door with a firm hand on her shoulder. His body shielded her like a wall.

“What the fuck are you doing here at this hour?” His voice was cold, almost bored, as if waking a kid caught sneaking out was the most mundane thing in the world.

Wonyoung’s throat tightened, words stuck like stones. She opened her mouth to speak but only a strangled sob escaped. Tears spilled down her cheeks, her hands trembling as the memory of the scene she’d witnessed—the lifeless student, the flashing knife—crushed her spirit.

Her gaze dropped, unable to face Yujin’s dark eyes, sharp and unyielding.

“You know who I am, right?” Yujin’s tone shifted slightly, a shadow of something unreadable flickering across his face. “Bad student. Troublemaker. The one everyone hates.”

Wonyoung nodded weakly, unable to stop the tears. The weight of fear, grief, and confusion paralyzed her voice.

Yujin exhaled slowly, the cold edge in his voice softening just a fraction. “Good. Now tell me what the hell you’re doing wandering around the school at midnight like some scared little mouse.”

Still, she remained silent, overwhelmed by the horror she had just seen, and by the harsh reality of standing so close to the school’s notorious bad boy.

Yujin’s gaze softened for a split second, but the chill returned. “You’re lucky I found you before he did. Next time, don’t freeze up like that. It almost got you killed.”

Wonyoung swallowed hard, her sobs quieting into shaky breaths. In that tense moment, between the cold menace and the faint trace of protection in Yujin’s eyes, she realized the rumors about him were only half the story.

Outside the classroom door, the faint echo of heavy footsteps grew louder—slow, deliberate, searching. The killer was close, prowling the hallway like a predator sniffing out its prey. His footsteps reverberated against the cold linoleum floor, sending icy tremors through the room.