The rain began suddenly cold, thin, like needles.
Kang Chan-woo stood at the edge of the Chugeum Forest, staring into the twisted black trunks fading into fog. His breath mixed with the damp night air, and his heart thumped too loudly, as if it feared the forest might hear it.
He wasn't supposed to be here.
He knew that.
But the voice… the voice had called him again.
Chan-woo…
He flinched.
The voice was faint, barely distinguishable, like the wind brushing through the leaves. But he heard it clearly, as if someone was standing right behind him.
Technically he was alone.
Technically it shouldn't have been possible.
But he heard it.
Chan-woo… come…
He stepped forward. Wet branches cracked under his shoes. The forest greeted him with the smell of moss, wet soil, decaying leaves… and something else. Something metallic.
Something like blood.
He didn't know how long he walked. Time flowed differently here, as if it got caught between the branches. He simply moved toward the invisible pull in his chest.
And then he saw a silhouette.
On a small clearing lit by a pale slice of moonlight stood a figure.
A boy his age.
Kang Chan-woo recognized him immediately Park Junho, his classmate. The same boy who just yesterday laughed with his friends at the school gate.
"Junho?" Chan-woo's voice cracked. "What are you doing here…?"
Silence.
Junho didn't move.
Chan-woo took another step, and the wind pushed aside the fog.
And then he saw it.
Junho stood slumped against a tree, his arms hanging like lifeless ropes.
His eyes were open too wide.
Staring at nothing.
A dark pool of blood shimmered beneath him.
Chan-woo felt his chest clench painfully.
"No… no… no…"
He's dead.
This is murder.
And I'm standing here… alone… right beside the body…
"This wasn't me," he whispered to the shadows, to the trees, to the cold air. "I didn't do this…"
The forest answered.
Not with words with presence.
A sudden gust of wind spiraled around him, leaves rustling as if something ancient exhaled deeply among the trunks.
And then the whisper again:
Chan-woo… we are close…
He staggered backward, slipped, fell onto the wet ground.
And then movement.
A shape deep within the thickest, darkest part of the forest.
Tall.
Too tall.
Too thin, as if stretched by shadows.
It appeared only for a heartbeat.
Then vanished.
Chan-woo froze, breath shaking.
Behind him, sudden heavy steps cracked through the branches, followed by a sharp voice
"KANG CHAN-WOO! DON'T MOVE!"
He whipped around.
Several flashlights cut through the darkness. Police officers emerged from the trees, led by Chief Baek Do-hyun. The chief's face was stone, but his eyes narrowed sharply when they fell on Junho's body… and Chan-woo beside it.
"Chan-woo," the chief said, resting his hand near his holster. "You. Again."
Chan-woo rose shakily, soaked through, trembling.
"It's not me! I just I came here and
"Enough," Do-hyun snapped. "You're here again. Alone. By a corpse. With no explanation."
"I… I heard a voice…"
The chief let out a humorless laugh.
"Fantastic. Now you're hearing voices. Wonderful."
"But.
"Kang Chan-woo," he said, stepping closer, "from this moment on, you are the primary suspect."
Chan-woo felt his world shrink to a single echo
Chan-woo…
The voice again.
But now it sounded… pleased.
As if something in the forest enjoyed watching his life crumble.
As the officers led him toward the road, he turned back one last time.
Deep between the trees stood a shadow.
The tall one.
The thin one.
It raised its arm.
And waved at him.
A chill spread through Chan-woo so cold it numbed his bones.
The forest wasn't just calling him.
It was waiting.