Chapter Text
The first time it happened, Soleum didn’t even recognize the change.
Or at least, what he thinks was the first time it happened.
It’s hard to discern after the fact, what exactly to attribute to the Mimicry Cult Sect member, and what had been the other thing—Soleum hasn’t encountered it enough yet to speculate which Darkness it comes from—instead.
Sometime during the second day, he had looked into the motionless solution pooled up in his mop bucket and startled upon finding Minseong’s reflection there, making eye contact with it. He whipped around to stare at the man, concerned he'd been overtaken by what had been imitating Haje. The man had said the previous day had gone smoothly, implying the whole sequence of events had been somewhat of a dream, but something didn’t feel right.
He was quick to hone in on Minseong for that reason.
Except the man was dutifully cleaning, whistling a tune Soleum hadn’t realized filled the air until he cared to listen. The ambiance was such—a pair of employees labouring away. The pinch in his brow loosened as he drew his gaze back to his own work, still incredibly put off by the mess of events.
Just before he dipped his mop in the liquid, it happened again— Minseong was looking at him. Soleum’s grip tightened around the rough grain of the worn-down handle.
He swallowed, mouth dropping open though his words failed him, not sure what to make of the eerie image. That was when he registered the stench. An overpowering foul odour that immediately summoned tears to Soleum’s eyes, ones he had to blink away to regain clear vision.
It smelt worse than anything he had the displeasure of inhaling before. Worse than when the carnival rolled into town and the smell of manure would breach the surroundings. Worse, even, than when his college dormitory’s fridge broke while he was visiting home mid-semester. His roommate had unfortunately gone back on his word and did the same—leaving no one to extract the food before it spoiled. Just the thought of it was enough to summon the smell of curdling milk and days-decayed meat.
This smell of rot trumped those unpleasant memories easily; Soleum’s nose wrinkled as he brought the cuff of his suit to his nose, doing almost nothing to dampen the effect. The air thickened, not unlike exiting from AC-cooled air to the outside; it was clear that something had arrived.
“Hey,” the words came out slightly muffled as he struggled not to inhale more of the stink lest he pass out, “Do you smell that?”
“Smell what?” Soleum could see Minseong tilt his head in confusion through his reflection in the cleaning solution. He didn’t immediately turn around, almost paralyzed by the invisible fog of decomposition and decay pooling all around him.
He was breathing through his nose—though it hurt to imagine the particles making up whatever was entering his system—shallow, fleeting breaths that didn’t do much to calm him down.
“The— That,” he pointed out after it almost doubled in intensity. He gave up trying to explain; if Minseong didn’t know what he’s talking about by then he had either spontaneously lost his olfactory senses, or once again, something was up. That it wasn’t Minseong, like it wasn’t Haje.
Fortunately, Minseong’s face scrunched up, like he was also smelling something particularly rotten. “Oh, that. Really gross… But I think it’s one of the—” He cut himself off, still trying to find the phrasing for it, perhaps. “The rooms, I think it’s coming from one of the rooms. You know…”
Though his former team member trailed off, Soleum understood. Many unsavoury entities were being kept under lock and key here, the point of the isolation blocks.
Still. He swallowed before speaking, unnerved. “Shouldn’t the containment also hold in the smell?”
A wave of nausea hit him as it grew more putrid still. He wasn’t quite sure how that was possible, given he was sure it had been the worst he’d ever smelled, when it first appeared.
“Oh. Hmm, I don’t know, we were able to hear voices through the doors!”
“Yeah…”
Soleum frowned, dousing his mop again. Minseong didn’t reply until Soleum pulled it out of the solution and was cleaning a different portion of the floor.
“Hahaha, really curious though, I almost thought you were going to let it out—”
What? He opened his mouth to question the man, but his eyes fell on his watch instead. 3:00 AM. His eyes widened. It was the same time now as when something had happened the day before.
“Supervisor, come with me!”
He ran to the end and shut the door behind them, quarantining them from the corridor.
The system announced an unauthorized exit. The lights began flashing, alarms blaring. Minseong looked at him, baffled as to how he figured it out.
Soleum had felt momentary relief in the escape. Felt like he outsmarted what was chasing them, even. It was only when he relaxed, felt safe enough to inhale deeply, that he realized the odour was gone.
Like a dream, or perhaps a nightmare, it felt like the place had never stunk at all. He voiced his thoughts to Minseong, who raised a brow.
“What smell?”
Soleum’s heart stopped. Was the one he spoke to in the corridor the intruder; or was it this Minseong, locked behind the containment shutters? He subconsciously reached for his pocket, tapping Braun and asking him the same question. Braun took a while to answer and what he said didn’t make matters any better at all.
- Well, they’re not the same, yes. But. Hmm… There’s also—
The cryptic answer was frustrating to no end. But before he could question his good friend, or even hear the end of the sentence, the door started shaking violently, a voice sounding out from the other side.
Minseong covered his ears and told him not to listen. They talked some more and Soleum eventually found out that he didn’t even know who on the Security Team had given him the tip sheet in the first place.
But it was a lead! Their situation had finally started to look up before he spoke to Braun again— Braun told him he had skipped out on a day and that he had entrusted ‘that part of his story’ to the ‘Minseong’ standing next to him.
Then the third day happened, at which point he had more or less figured it out. The entity that had been stealing identities, acting as Haje and Minseong, was the Story Usurper, a ghost story belonging to the Church of the Luminous Unknown.
The Security Sergeant helped out— decapitating the cult member. All was good. Except, there had been one thing that bothered Soleum. The same thing that bothered him now still and points to the Isolation Block being the first appearance of the entity.
After they had been free to go, no longer in danger and the punishment over, Soleum mused over the events as he so often did. There had been no mention of the Story Usurper reeking in the Records, was there? He went through it again and again in his head, but no matter what, he couldn’t recall any wiki entries that mentioned a foul odour.
As he thought about this, Braun spoke up.
- Hahaha! Friend, you underestimate your popularity. Of course that didn’t come from that unpleasant being.
…?
But Braun hadn’t been able to discern the Usurper, how could he be so sure?
- You wound me! Mr. Roe Deer, think about it! Otherwise, where did the smell go?
He had a point. The only issue was that he had no other leads. None of the ghost stories he had encountered thus far mentioned anything about a smell in their entries, and neither had he been so viscerally overwhelmed at those moments.
When he thought about what could emit such a foul, rancid miasma, he could only think of stories of bog bodies, zombies, and wend— He stopped himself. Better not to say or even think of that one. Soleum hadn’t been particularly superstitious back in his old world, and had easily typed their names out several times in forum comments, but over here one could never be too safe.
Regardless, nothing came to mind that matched the situation. Which meant… He resolved to take whatever the Story Usurper had said in Minseong’s body as the truth. That the stench had permeated from underneath one of the containment cell’s doors.
He thought nothing more of it, despite Braun’s oddly cryptic comment on his popularity.
Soleum’s first mistake was believing that his version of the Darkness Exploration Records told the entire truth.
The memory comes rushing back as Soleum does his best to stay utterly still, as if the poor imitation of prey instincts would save him from an untimely demise at the hand of a ghost story. He winces. They almost feel like the flashback montage a character has, ultimately ending up in a horrific realization dawning on them, right before they’re mercilessly slaughtered.
Or so he imagines, he’s never quite had the nerve to make it through a horror movie.
Soleum’s breaths are shallow as he’s careful not to inhale the odour again; he’s genuinely concerned he might pass out and be at this thing’s mercy.
He doesn’t know nearly enough to ascertain whatever this thing could be, let alone formulate a plan of defense. This wretched stench, like the one coming from the Isolation Block, is his only clue. He’s sure it’s the same one—if only a bit milder—the sensation had been violently ingrained into his memory. There isn’t a fragrance in the world strong enough to override it.
Fuck!
If only he hadn’t returned to the officetel after work, eager to relax. If only he hadn’t taken the lack of Baek Saheon’s shoes near the front to be a sign of him not being home and lowered his guard. If only he hadn’t succumbed to the desire to comfort himself early in the day and switched the TV on, eager to escape reality into reruns of classic childhood shows.
Everything’s going fine— More or less. The show is not quite as funny as he remembers, who would have thought, but the big story beats hit the same. He laughs along, reminiscing over good times as a child when he would sit in front of the television as his mother cooked that day’s dinner. He strokes Braun on occasion, thinking his good friend isn’t so bad. He might be a terrifying entity, but like this he’s just an adorable doll.
He’s having quite an amazing time, actually, until the episode ends. The colours on the screen minimize to a mere circle around the character’s face, black taking up the rest of the frame.
- Ah, this type of ending is called an Iris Out, friend! While common in film and cartoon, it’s less so utilized in reality TV and talk shows. This, of course, is understandable! It doesn’t match the story—
Braun goes on to detail the ins and outs of the method as well as its contributions to entertainment factor, cinematic technique, and so on, but Soleum isn’t listening. Because his gaze has landed on Saheon of all people, reflected in the darkness of the TV. He’s so startled by the appearance of the man, that he reflexively powers the television off. Better this than flinching; he wouldn’t be able to give off the aura of a psychopath if he’s seen cowering simply because he hadn’t expected Saheon standing in the middle of their shared area.
With a CLICK , the power to the device goes out.
- What’s this? Are we not going to be watching television anymore? Oh— it’s your roommate! Well…
No, it’s not—is it? It looks exactly like him and yet. Soleum’s nose wrinkles in disgust. The smell is back.
Saheon—if he could still call it that—raises a brow. “What’s wrong?”
What’s wrong, what’s wrong? Soleum’s thoughts grow a little delirious at the seemingly innocuous question. What’s wrong is the fact that it smells like a rotting corpse was left until it became one with the earth, and the smell killed another animal passing by—which then rotted as well—and his roommate isn’t batting an eye!
In fact, he has a sneaking suspicion that it’s not his roommate at all.
“Nothing,” Soleum narrows his eyes as he speaks, “I just didn’t expect to see you here, considering your shoes weren’t at the front. Are we wearing shoes in the home now—that’s kind of disrespectful.”
He tries his best to keep his nerves out of his voice and respond as if it’s actually Saheon standing behind him. He has a bored expression, his mouth a straight, unimpressed line as he waits for an answer to be uttered back.
The wrinkle between his brows is still there and his hand is still curled around Braun, protectively, or perhaps defensively—there’s no way he would be completely letting his guard down after all.
“Oh.”
The Fake-Saheon lets out a noise of acknowledgement, but doesn’t move to answer the question at all, until several moments of silence pass by. When it’s clear Soleum won’t make a move until he does, it moves closer.
Soleum goes very still. He wants to turn around, to talk to this thing face-to-face, but he fears the second he takes his eyes off of it, something very bad is going to happen. It might be his paranoia from writing the Sekwang technical school entry returning, but he’s not going to be taking any chances.
Instead, if he keeps a very close eye on it as he ascertains more about what it is and came from, he should be safe. Braun seems to agree, from the way he chimes in.
- So captivating! Mr. Roe Deer is a true entertainer.
Captivating the audience? Or… Soleum doesn’t ponder it too long, because Fake-Saheon speaks again.
“Perhaps I was in a rush? Hmm. Not quite sure.”
No—Isn’t this something one should know? On top of that, this is nothing like how Saheon usually responds to his taunts—a mix of righteous fury, revulsion, and perhaps fear. Ultimately out of a sense of self preservation, he obeys and allows Soleum to do whatever he wants.
Soleum thinks he hears an inkling of mischief in its voice. He’s getting teased?
His hand tightens around Braun slightly as he sinks further into the couch.
“I see. Well, why’re you standing there like that? Are you interested in watching TV?”
Soleum almost empties the meal he had earlier into his lap. He can barely hold the contents of his stomach in place as it comes closer, and the smell wafts into his airspace again. Fake-Saheon has bent forward so that his head is next to Soleum’s, in the space to his right, though they’re both still looking at the TV.
“Depends on what’s on.”
“Is that so?”
Soleum thinks he’s doing a very good job of keeping his cool. He moves to turn the TV back on and nearly jumps out of his skin when a hand clasps around his shoulder. It’s startlingly cold; a chill sets in his bones after it makes contact.
“On second thought, let’s not watch TV.”
Soleum’s heart thunders in his ears as he considers what to do next. His fingers stroke Braun slightly in a silent plea for help. It’s answered, sort of. Braun muses to Soleum again.
- This thing’s pretty vain. Confidence is good, but too much risks alienating yourself from the audience. Only truly talented entertainers can pull it off and I’m afraid Mr. Roe Deer’s fan hasn’t quite developed this ability yet.
Vain? Fan? He asks the questions in rapid succession, apprehensive that the entity will do more than just clutch his shoulder. Its hand moves down his arm some, but it doesn’t do anything else.
Soleum breathes a sigh of relief and speaks to it again, as he waits for Braun to answer.
“Oh, then what would you like to do?” he asks lazily, willing his good friend to hurry up all the while.
- Of course it’s vain! Didn’t it tell you to keep the TV off so it could see its own reflection better? Tsk. It should be looking at you, not itself. Although… I suppose Mr. Roe Deer is visible on the TV screen as well. And I do believe it's a fan of yours— why else would it go through such lengths to meet you? Hahaha!
“Tell me more about yourself.”
Is it still pretending to be Baek Saheon? Surely the thing knows that there’s no way in hell Saheon would say that to him. There isn’t really a way he can get rid of it, Soleum muses, so he supposes it makes sense that it's given up all pretenses.
He’s not going to give in that easily, as close as he is to fainting from fear. His face is slightly pale as he speaks to it. “You first.”
The freezing touch and putrid stench are impossible to ignore—Could it actually be a bog body? Think, what were the other signs! There’s no bloating, though it smells like it's decomposing, it certainly doesn’t look like it.
On top of that, Soleum hasn’t been near a body of water, haunted or otherwise, recently. He hasn’t done anything to attract any sort of entity, he thinks. Then again, when did the majority of the deaths in the Records ever have anything to do with their unfortunate ends?
Quite often, it was the case that someone could die in a split second, without even the slightest clue as to what just happened.
“Me? Hahaha, sir, you’re being quite odd. I’m Baek Saheon, we were assigned as roommates?”
So it hasn’t given up the guise of being Baek Saheon, it’s just really bad at it.
Soleum’s mind flashes back to the Story Usurper, and how it had discouraged him from using the walkie-talkie after taking Haje’s form. His grip tightens around the remote, hand twitching.
Fake-Saheon immediately squeezes his arm again, speaking right after, “Your turn. I would like to know more about you.”
This almost certainly confirms his suspicions. Before he can be convinced otherwise, Soleum’s hand flashes over the power button, bringing the television back to life with a roar. His gaze catches on the side of Saheon’s face through his peripheral vision.
Immediately, Saheon flinches. There’s a pause. Then:
“What the fuck?” Saheon mutters as he rips his hand off Soleum’s arm, backing off. Soleum breathes a sigh of relief. He’s back to normal—normal being a self-serving asshole, but human at least.
Turning the TV on had broken whatever spell had settled over his roommate. He still doesn’t know what the hell happened, but at least he can breathe clearly again without feeling like throwing up, and that’s reason enough to celebrate.
He has a dreadful feeling, though, that this isn’t the end of it. Or the last he’ll be seeing of the thing.
Soleum starts the day off by avoiding Saheon as usual, albeit for slightly different reasons. He would rather not get written up for clocking in late, memories of his last punishment at this godforsaken company all too fresh in his memory, so he wakes up half an hour early instead.
He runs through his routine quickly, stumbling from the toilet to the shower, and at long last to the washroom vanity. He breathes in deeply and looks at the man staring back at him. Save for his dark circles, slight stubble, and pale skin, there’s nothing particularly unsavoury about his reflection right now.
The Daydream employee grits his teeth.
He’s going insane. He’s stumbled in one Darkness too many and he’s now going insane. Otherwise why would this be happening to him? Otherwise, why would the Kim Soleum in the mirror now be a perfect imitation of him?
He raises his right hand and its left hand goes up.
He clenches a fist and it clenches its fist in return. He sighs a world-weary puff of air, as if all of Soleum’s worries could be exhaled out into the atmosphere instead. When it becomes exceedingly obvious that nothing supernatural will occur, he drags a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes.
Of course he hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. He hasn’t been getting much sleep in this world at all, so who’s to say that the… occurrences can’t be written off as a product of his own imagination anyway?
Saheon’s strange behaviour before coming back to his senses? Could just be his psychopathic roommate realizing he had tried to make friends with Soleum before catching himself. He convinces himself that it’s the case.
Braun’s not with him right now, left on Soleum’s dresser with no complaint, courtesy of being a self-proclaimed gentleman. He’s half convinced the talk-show host just doesn’t want to run the risk of getting dropped in the toilet after their last scare—He had been this close to having to fish out a sopping wet plush rabbit out of the bowl. Braun hadn’t spoken to him for at least three hours.
The talk-show host could be lying to him for the sake of a more entertaining story, though it’s not really something a good friend would do. A good friend wouldn’t stand to the side and watch as Soleum lost his mind, wouldn’t encourage him to, even.
…
He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything. Soleum splashes water on his face, washing off the hand soap he had lathered moments before. His only evidence this is something outside of his head is that putrid stench that’s arisen twice now. Coincidentally, it’s also something within the realm of perception.
If visual and auditory hallucinations are a thing, then it’s quite possible… Soleum frowns as he exits the washroom, the sight of a very angry roommate telling him he had been in there for much longer than he realized.
It’s the world of the Darkness Exploration Records, he can’t be taking any happening lightly, even if it doesn’t quite make sense. Even if what’s happening to him doesn’t hit all of the criteria for any Record, making this something wholly foreign to him.
Soleum finishes the rest of his routine in a bit of a daze, though he still somehow manages to get out without running into Baek Saheon again. Braun’s quiet, pleasant and polite in his pocket; he usually doesn’t have anything to say this early in the day.
The Lizard Chief gives him a nod as he enters. Soleum’s largely gotten used to the offputting stark white lizard head and piercing red eyes by now. He does wonder about the appearance of the handsome employee everyone else, including Braun, sees,from time to time. But it’s not a burning curiosity.
Soleum gets to work at whatever Daydream’s decided is worth doing, outside of entering Darknesses this time. He’ll be sent to explore and clear another one any day now. It hasn’t been too long since his cleaning punishment. The big inaugural mission planned for Team D’s debut as an elite team should be coming up, but knowing this company, they’d try to squeeze in a few lower grade clears beforehand, regardless. No doubt in the case that it goes wrong and the chosen Darkness eradicates him and other Elite Team members.
Braun makes comments every so often as he works though as today is more or less an excessively mundane ordeal, there’s not quite anything that catches his interest. The Lizard Chief remains to be an unobtrusive presence, flipping papers and making notes every so often.
The man seems to be around their office a lot more nowadays. He’s really not the type of boss or employee to slack off on his work so Soleum can only imagine it’s an outside factor. Like the fact that it’s just the two of them these days. A part of him insists that he doesn’t want Soleum to be alone, despite the articles and posts he’s seen discouraging anthropomorphizing pet snakes and other reptiles because of the damage it could cause.
In those cases, it was said an owner shouldn’t assign human characteristics to animals that weren’t capable of human thought as it was liable to lead to abuse and neglect. In this case, perhaps the one getting hurt would be Soleum instead.
He slumps, weary as his gaze tears away from the man. Regardless of the man’s intentions behind sticking around the office more often—nefarious, Braun posited—the fact of the matter is that it’s just the two of them. Not something that really bothers Soleum, despite his knowledge of all of the Darknesses roaming somewhere in Daydream, because the Lizard Chief is basically as strong as 100 regular employees.
This fact causes him some grief when his morning coffee and intermittent drinking of water inevitably means he has to use the washroom. He tries to avoid Daydream’s facilities, any kind, as much as possible but there’s only so much you can do to avoid peeing.
As long as he doesn’t chant Blo—doesn’t chant that specific phrase in the mirror a few times or knock on the stalls or the numerous other possible summoning rituals, he’s going to be fine.
This time Braun is with him, the thought of being left alone with the Team Leader more excruciating for the talk show host than the possibility of falling into a toilet. He very politely does not comment on the size of anything as Soleum unzips his trousers.
The doll does however choose to unleash the other thoughts he’d been holding back in the Lizard Chief’s presence, who knows why, and goes on several tangents. It’s for this reason Soleum’s been rotating between washing his hands, examining the exceptionally uninspiring decor choices (or lack thereof), and tapping his feet as he converses with the doll.
He could continue speaking to the doll as he walks back to the safety and comfort of the office, but there’s a reason Braun chose now to speak up—Something about ‘privacy.’ Really, his good friend is so high maintenance.
It’s there, washing his hands for perhaps the fifth time as Braun goes over his thoughts on the reruns they watched last night, that he stands when someone walks him. Soleum couldn’t for the life of him explain why this is the topic of conversation , considering they had had this exact conversation while watching said reruns. But sometimes Braun will get in these little moods where he’s a complete chatterbox.
The man who has walked in has white hair and striking red eyes—he’s reminded of his Team Leader, actually, at the sight of them. He nods at the man now that they’ve so clearly made eye contact, but thinks nothing of it. Until Braun goes silent.
‘What’s wrong?’
He’s in the process of finishing up the most recent wash when his good friend finally replies—freezing him in place.
- Interesting! Even this Braun almost thought it was the real deal for a second.
Soleum’s heart drops. He makes the mistake of raising his gaze. His reflection looks the same as this morning, exasperated and dead tired, but when his gaze pans over—the employee who had just entered the washroom is looking at him.
He’s also washing his hands, why is he washing his hands? He hasn’t even gone to the washroom? And yes, there are reasons one could need to wash their hands even without using the toilet, but the way he makes direct eye contact with Soleum as he washes really freaks him out.
His thoughts travel back to what Braun just said about the newcomer.
‘Real deal? What do you mean?’
- Hmm? Quite peculiar. Mr. Roe Deer, do you actually think that’s your boss? He’s not nearly as insufferable, for one. And he makes for a much more entertaining show! It’s a bit of an affront, really.
His boss? What? Soleum’s heart pounds as he puts the words together. Boss, an insufferable guy, the red eyes and white hair, it’s the Lizard Chief. Lee Jaheon. He locks eyes with a very human face again and it dawns on him what Braun met by being the real deal. Of course this isn’t actually Lee Jaheon, otherwise why would Soleum suddenly be able to see his admittedly very handsome face?
The smell has also returned. Soleum hadn’t recognized it in part because who doesn’t expect a washroom to smell, but also because it’s admittedly milder this time. He raises his brows. Could there be a reason for that?
“What are you?”
Soleum decides to get it out of the way. Now that it’s come back to this, so clearly an imposter, there’s nothing else to be done.
“Oh? You figured it out so quickly this time, how could you tell?”
This time? But the other times were quick too, Soleum thinks, they couldn’t have lasted much longer than it took to out the thing this time. So either it truly believes he hadn’t realized because he didn’t say anything or—it’s been with him more than he realizes.
On top of that, can this thing not smell itself? It smells like death itself. He doesn’t point it out for fear of offending the entity or informing it of one of the only tells he has.
“I just could,” Soleum mutters. There’s not much he can say. What, that the good friend in his pocket told him? Or that his lizard head isn’t quite as apparent as usual?
“You’re no fun,” Fake-Lizard-Chief whines. It’s a disturbing sight. Although Soleum hasn’t ever seen the visage in front of him before, it looks like the type of face that has no business pouting.
“What are you,” Soleum repeats. He wishes he had some sort of clue as to its true nature so he could formulate a better plan than just conversing with the creature and following its own pace.
Fake-Lizard-Chief piles more soap onto his hands, momentarily ignoring the question. He lathers a bit before speaking, “You forgot me already? But we had so much fun.” He doesn’t say anything else. So much for getting more information.
Soleum runs his hands under the air dryer, using the deafening whirr to formulate his response. He looks back at the Fake-Lizard–Chief, who just… stands there silently. Reluctantly—perhaps without even realizing so much what it meant to do so—he looks back into the mirror. Back into Fake-Lizard-Chief’s gaze.
He speaks slowly. “I meet a lot of people.” It takes him some effort to not stumble over the word ‘people.’
“I suppose I can’t fault you there. Perhaps myself, for not being interesting enough.” The man in the mirror tilts his head. “It’s definitely your fault, though. If you didn’t want me to seek you out, if you didn’t want my interest, then why let me out?”
Soleum’s brows furrow.
He let it out?
His eyes widen. It makes sense. The particularity with mirrors.
“You.” He swallows thickly. He can tell from the way a lazy smirk has climbed onto Fake-Lizard-Chief’s face, that he knows Soleum has caught on. “From the elevator—”
“Correct!” He claps. Soleum didn’t ever think he would miss the way his boss would clap with the back of his hands. Instead, even though by all measures the action of the entity looking at him through the mirror was normal, it brings a jarring sense of wrongness, of incongruity.
Soleum does the first thing he thinks will work against it—he tears his gaze away from the mirror. Doesn’t look again. The thing in front of him still has a human head, but he’s not saying anything to Soleum or advancing in his direction so he counts it as a win.
Tentatively, despite the fact that his heart has dropped to his gut, Soleum opens his mouth and speaks to it. He has to gather information.
“Section Chief, what are you doing?”
“I’m washing my hands,” the man replies as he thoroughly runs one hand over the other, scrubbing away invisible dirt.
“How… How long will that take?” It’s quite curious; the chief seems to have returned to his normal self, similar to Saheon after he had turned the TV back on, that one time in the dorm. He can almost believe it is the chief, that the whole conversation with the mirror was some strange error, if not for the fact that he doesn’t have his lizard head.
“I’m on step four out of the sixty-eight required steps for having clean and bacteria free hands.”
…
Even though it really sounds like him. Soleum nods, eager to get away and ponder whatever is happening on his own time. He backs out of the washroom, too scared to turn his back on the entity (god forbid he accidentally catches the reflection of the Fake-Lee-Jaheon on the metal of the paper towel dispenser again) as he takes his leave.
Kim Soleum’s route back to their office is short and straightforward. He does not encounter anyone on the way. The man should still be washing his hands in the company’s washroom.
So why is the Lizard Chief sitting at his desk like he hasn’t gotten up at all? Soleum already knew what he spoke to earlier wasn’t Lee Jaheon—that part no longer surprised him. He was more concerned with the confirmation that they were physically different.
Meaning he likely hadn’t interacted with Minseong at all during his punishment. Meaning it had somehow found its way into their dormitory. Soleum frowns at the implications. Then he pauses. Would it not simply torment Soleum all the time if it had the chance? It had also attempted to stop him from turning the TV off. Meaning, there are restrictions he can work with.
He briefly considers just avoiding every mirror he can for the rest of his life.
- Friend! This is unacceptable, Mr. Roe Deer must be able to see himself in the mirror. Attention to one’s appearance is one of the key factors of star power!
The Lizard Chief breaks the silence.
“There’s a Darkness capable of imitation roaming free on this floor.”
Soleum freezes, gaze immediately darting up to the man. His breath hitches, and his legs feel weak with fear.
“Ah…” As always, he’s not sure how to follow the man’s words, with no proper thread to follow. “How do you know?”
“Please include more detail,” Soleum adds on before he can speak, knowing his painful tendency to be brief.
“It walked in here dressed in a suit and company clothing. When I raised my hand and pointed to the door, informing it only Daydream employees are allowed in the building, it threw up a fist and said it won. Then it walked out wearing my face.”
Soleum’s brows climb higher on his face the longer he listens. The way it’s worded bothers him, just a bit. Won? Won what?
It hits him all at once—the mirror entity, winning, the hand gestures—it had played rock, paper, scissors with Lee Jaheon. Though calling it ‘Play’ was a little bit of a stretch, considering one party hadn’t been aware of the game in the first place, not to mention the fact that the only thing similar between ‘scissors’ and the finger he’d pointed, were the fingers held out.
Then again, it had been able to more or less read his thoughts in the elevator, so it had never really subscribed to the notion of ‘fairness’ in the first place. As far as the thing from the mirror was concerned, it had won against Lee Jaheon and that was that.
The idea that his brief moment of empathy, or whatever it was when he had released the entity, has come back to haunt him is… truly horrifying. Because it isn’t the setting of the Darknesses’ fault this time.
Soleum’s acquired a supernatural, shapeshifting stalker, and he has only himself to blame.