"Do I know you?" I ask tilting my head up at him. "No, you don't." His expression solemn. The elevator dinged, He exited. Still nameless...mysterious.
I knew nothing of him as the doors closed between us. He stood still as it shut, his back facing...
In Krystal's eyes, I could see who the definition of evil was, it was him. Park Chanyeol.
She is so convinced that he is the one.
Feeling the flash drive move within my pocket. I couldn't help biting my lip.
"This is the reason," I thought.
I discarded the thought of the possibility of being wrong about him. He can't be that kind of person.
I shook my head stepping into the club with an isolating silence. Was anybody here?
I scan the wide room with a bar in one corner and DJ station in front of dancefloor. Where is everyone?
I notice a large bloody hand print on the wall followed by a series of fading ones. Walking a few inches behind the sight of the bloody prints, on the floor there were droplets of blood leading down another hallway.
Spotting a figure in the corner of my eye hiding in the shadows on the floor.
My heart beat speeds up when I realize who the figure is.
That's when I see him holding his abdomen, hands drenched in scarlet red.
"Chanyeol!" I rush over to him. He groans forcing his eyes open. Moving his head up from its falling position.
His right hand pressed against his abdomen, drenched in scarlet red ichor.
"You aren't suppose to be here. Leave before they find you," He says, his voice dry and coarse.
I glance at the endless bleeding from his wound. "No. Your bleeding, you need a doctor."
Chanyeol grabbed ahold of my wrist with his free hand. "Eunji, you have to leave. This isn't your problem." Howisthisnotmyproblem?
I shake my head at him in complete disagreement, "I came to find you. I can't leave without you."
"Please just go...I can't have another person getting hurt. Not you, Eunji." He bore his eyes into mine, pleading.
"Losing you would hurt me." I say to him with no hesitation.
Moving my eyes along the club. I spot an exit door not too far from where we are. We can make it I know it.
I move Chanyeol's arm to place him around my shoulders. The weight of his body leaning against mine.
"Eunji," Chanyeol mumbles, his grip on my shoulder slipping.
"We are almost there." I continue to pull us along with all my known strength, a few more steps to the exit.
"Eunji, I'm sorry. I'm the last person that deserves your help." Why is he saying that?
"Don't speak." I utter to focus his attention back to the exit.
"I'm guilty..."
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