Eun-woo's eyes flew open. Instinctively, he covered his nose and mouth with both hands and leaned against the wall. His eyes scanned the room desperately, alert for any threat.
A nauseating smell hung in the air, thick and pungent, like a mixture of rotten meat and rancid chemicals. It was so unbearable that for a moment he felt like he was going to vomit and had to clench his jaw to keep from giving in to the urge.
Where was that smell coming from?
He was choking on his own tongue. He fought back the spasms rising from his stomach, not wanting to vomit.
A cold sweat ran from his forehead to his back, soaking his skin. His heart pounded violently in his chest, and he could barely breathe. For a moment, he was convinced he was going to die.
"Eun-woo?"
Rhys's voice cut through the crisis. His eyes shone with concern at Eun-woo's condition. Without thinking, he stepped down from the metal plate and immediately approached him.
Eun-woo recoiled instinctively, shoving him away with force.
The smell... that repulsive, chilling aroma was coming from Rhys.
Although the Guide's usual fragrance still floated faintly in the air, there was something much thicker and more nauseating clinging to his skin.
A growl escaped Eun-woo's throat before he could stop it.
He didn't like that smell on Rhys.
He didn't know why or where it came from, only that it wasn't his. And that was enough to make something inside him stir uncomfortably. Rhys was his cellmate and that foreign scent was an unforgivable intrusion.
Rhys froze, not knowing how to react to what he had just seen.
Something about Eun-woo's behavior seemed familiar... too specific. That reaction, that instinctive rejection of someone else's scent... was the kind of response an esper would have if they believed their Guide had encountered another esper.
But that didn't make sense.
Rhys was not a Guide.
And Eun-woo was the last Esper.
So why…?
Rhys refused to believe it.
There was no way Eun-woo could have smelled Magnus's scent on his skin.
After their nighttime encounter, Rhys had tried hard to erase any trace of Magnus — the trail of his fingers over his skin, but most of all, his scent.
Rhys was sure he had used up the entire supply of scented soaps in the bathroom and was sure he had erased all the evidence.
However, seeing Eun-woo react like that, he was beginning to have doubts.
"Eun-woo," Rhys repeated in a softer tone, trying to quell his growls.
Eun-woo finally became aware of the sound and abruptly stopped the ferocious purring. His cheeks took on an alarming shade of pink that Rhys could barely see as he continued to cover his face.
Kicking his feet, Eun-woo backed away from Rhys. He still couldn't stand the scent someone else had placed on his partner. He only stopped when he hit the wall.
For both of them, an eternity seemed to pass. A frantic, uncomfortable silence that forced them to mingle, to ask questions and demand answers, yet neither of them spoke.
The buzzing sound that indicated the doors would open echoed in the room. Seconds later, the door opened, and Rhys stared longingly down the hallway. Before he could change his mind, he sped off toward the showers.
He would make one last attempt to completely eradicate Magnus's presence from his skin. He knew time was against him, but he still couldn't bear the thought of staying with that scent for a second longer.
Eun-woo reacted instantly and ran after him.
"Rhys! Stop!" Eun-woo's screams echoed through the deserted hallways.
Rhys didn't stop. Upon reaching his destination, he ducked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut, leaving Eun-woo outside.
Eun-woo stood in the hallway, pounding on the door insistently. He called his name over and over again, for long minutes, without a response. Anxiety mingled with frustration in his chest.
If the door didn't open soon and Rhys didn't come out now, they would be exposed in the middle of the corridors, just as the Butchers were making their rounds.
"Rhys... please," he murmured, his forehead against the cold metal. "There's no time..."
The echo of his plea was lost in the air.
No matter how hard he tried to stay calm, fear was beginning to seep into every pore of his body. Not for himself, but for Rhys. Because if the Butchers found them out there, there was no guarantee he could protect him.
A moment later, the buzzing sound announcing the automatic closing of the doors began to sound insistently.
Eun-woo didn't move.
Instead of running for cover, he plopped down by the bathroom entrance, huddled together, waiting for Rhys to emerge. He forced himself to remain calm, even though inside he was already preparing to be at the Butchers' mercy.
With his face buried between his knees, he began to whisper a progressive countdown, waiting for the worst.
One, two, three…
Reality flickered through Eun-woo's mind like a spark. He wasn't alone anymore. He had Rhys, his cellmate, and he wanted to protect him. Not because he'd been ordered to, but because he needed him with an urgency he didn't fully understand.
Eun-woo looked down at his arms and saw the marks of everything he'd endured. The scars that told his story.
With an effort, he stood up. His legs were shaking, his vision was blurring, but he didn't stop. He leaned against the wall, feeling around with his free hand. He needed something, anything sharp, even a small one, to cut himself with.
His blood was the only thing that could confuse the horrible Butchers, driving them mad, disorienting them, and forcing them to stray from his trail. The only way to stop the Butchers from attacking Rhys was for Eun-woo to offer himself as bait.
And that was exactly what he would do.
A blink later, Eun-woo disappeared down the hall, leaving behind only the echo of his footsteps... and the smell of fresh blood.
***
When Rhys realized he'd locked himself out of his cell, he wasn't alarmed. He just had to stand in front of one of the surveillance cameras, make the appropriate hand signal, and the guards on duty would be alerted to open the door for him.
He would have to keep Eun-woo distracted during that time so that he wouldn't start to suspect his alliance with the Research Center.
As long as Eun-woo was with him, Rhys could keep the Butchers away. Their survival depended on them staying together. But he didn't count on the fact that when he stepped out of the bathroom, his cellmate wouldn't be there.
Not seeing Eun-woo, Rhys froze.
The air caught in his lungs, and his heart began to pound so violently that it clouded his hearing. Dizziness shook him. His legs felt weak, as if his body wasn't fully responding. His stomach churned, and a cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck.
He looked desperately down the hallway, expecting to see Eun-woo appear at any moment, but there was no one.
"Eun-woo!" shouted Rhys.
Nothing.
He started running. His footsteps echoed like gunshots in the lonely hallway. As he turned a corner, he stopped dead in his tracks. The color drained from his face.
Blood.
A dark, thick trail ran across the floor. Droplets splattered the walls in a chaotic pattern. As if something, or someone, had been dragged.
"No…" Rhys whispered.
He moved forward, not knowing whether reason or pure instinct were guiding him. He turned one corner, then another. Everything looked the same — cold walls, locked doors, that same metallic stench clogging his throat.
"Eun-woo…" he murmured, breathless.
His footsteps sounded hollow and quick. He passed door after door, all closed, sealed as if they concealed horrors that shouldn't be seen. He pounded on one with his fist in desperation, then another, shouting for his companion.
Nothing.
He spun around, not knowing where to run, and went back into the hallway. The trail was still there, dark and persistent. Like a cursed rope that dragged him deeper and deeper. So he kept going, without stopping, as if his life depended on not looking back.
The minutes dragged on, heavy as lead. Rhys stumbled over his own feet, cursed under his breath, held onto the wall, and kept going.
Then he saw it.
Eun-woo was standing unsteadily, his arms stained with red. Blood dripped from his fingers, forming small pools at his feet. His face was pale.
"¡Eun…!"
Eun-woo shook his head, quickly and desperately. His eyes were wide and filled with terror.
Rhys stood rooted to the spot.
His chest rose and fell unevenly, as if the air had become too thick to breathe. He didn't understand why the hallway smelled of rust and blood, why the lights flickered as if the entire place shared a tremor. Everything in his body screamed at him to run, but his legs wouldn't respond.
Something was very wrong.
Then a roar tore through the silence. The vibration pierced him to the bone, making his ears ring as if his skull were about to explode. Rhys instinctively covered his ears. He'd never heard anything like it.
It wasn't an animal.
He wasn't a man.
It was a thing made to kill.
Eun-woo turned his head very slowly, as if he already knew what was coming behind them.
And then it appeared…
The Butcher emerged from the shadows with a movement impossible for something of his size. He was tall, disproportionate, with overly long arms and fingers that ended in dirty, curved claws. His face was an asymmetrical mass of scars, crooked jaws, and small, glowing eyes. The uniform that must once have been military hung in tatters over his deformed body, as if his humanity had rotted away.
He snarled, showing stone-black teeth, and lunged at Eun-woo.