"Wendy?"

A pale face appeared behind the door of the changing room, her bony features gaunt, and her wide, black eyes hollow with a strange intensity. It was unmistakable—Mary Robinson, once everyone's best friend.

"Long time no see! What brings you here?" Mary's voice was unnervingly casual, as if she was greeting an old friend in the most ordinary setting.

Wendy stepped closer, her face taut with tension. She swallowed hard before speaking.

"…I'm here to stop you."

"Stop me? From what?"

Mary's smile widened, an almost childlike grin. She hung onto the door, the hinges groaning under her weight.

"…From killing people."

"And why does that matter?" Mary's voice was soft, as if the question was a simple curiosity.

Wendy's heart raced as she struggled for the right words. "…People… they need to live their lives, Mary. We can't just…end them like this."

Mary chuckled softly, a strange, unsettling laugh that didn't belong in the midst of bloodshed. "Oh, that's funny."

Her laughter hung in the air, light and surreal. It felt like a mockery of the horror around them.

"You came all the way here just to tell me that?"

Wendy's lips trembled as she fought for composure. "…We can't just do whatever we want, Mary."

"And why not?" Mary's smile thinned, her eyes narrowing.

"Because…people who do whatever they want…they get taken away. To bad places."

Mary's brow furrowed, her confusion genuine. "What? I don't understand."

"I'm trying to stop you from—"

"We haven't seen each other in nearly six years, and this is what you want to talk about?" Mary interrupted, her voice edged with frustration. "Don't you want to know how I've been? Aren't you going to say hello?"

Wendy's heart pounded, but she raised her hand, waving awkwardly. "…Hi. It's been a while."

"It is, it is." Mary replied, unfazed, her eyes never leaving Wendy's face.

Wendy swallowed hard, trying to keep her focus. "…Like I said, I'm here to stop you from killing anyone else."

"You don't have to. It's fine," Mary said with a dismissive wave. "Go meet your boyfriend outside. Ray, right? Sounds better, doesn't it?"

"Ray's not my—"

"Whatever. You don't need to stop me."

"I will."

Mary's smile faded, her eyes twitching as she stared hard at Wendy. "Are you kidding me?"

Wendy felt a knot tighten in her stomach.

"You all told me to be a murderer," Mary spat, her voice low with anger. "You said I'm a psychotic freak. So, I killed everyone. Everything. What's the problem now?"

The air thickened with tension as Mary's anger flared. She wasn't the naive girl from their past anymore—this was a woman full of fury, consumed by the pain others had inflicted. Wendy's fists clenched at her sides, trembling.

"I'm sorry," Wendy whispered, her voice strained. "We were wrong. You…you don't have to do this."

Mary's lips curled into a pout, her eyes flicking over Wendy with contempt. "But you do whatever you want, don't you, Wendy?"

"…What?"

"You skip school whenever you feel like it. You used to play all day. You had fun."

"That's…not true anymore," Wendy said, her voice shaky. "I don't live like that."

"Really?" Mary leaned forward, her eyes suddenly sharp with interest.

Wendy felt a glimmer of hope as Mary seemed to listen. "I have a job now. I work, I earn money. I…rarely skip class anymore."

"You're a liar."

"No, I'm not." Wendy met Mary's gaze, her voice steadying. "I've changed."

Mary's face twisted in doubt. "Why? Why would you live like that? You used to be free. You and the girls had so much fun."

Wendy took a deep breath. "…The girls aren't around anymore. We split up."

Mary looked surprised, her expression softening for the briefest moment. Wendy pressed on.

"Some of them…went to jail. Others got addicted to drugs. That's what happens, Mary. If you don't stop, things fall apart."

Mary's eyes grew dark again, the brief flicker of understanding vanishing.

"When people can't control themselves," Wendy continued, her voice pleading, "they get taken away. By someone. Somehow."

Mary stared at her, her face growing still. Then, with a sneer, she blew a raspberry, her eyes narrowing in mockery. "Liar. Liar. Pants on fire."

Wendy's chest tightened. She could feel the tension mounting between them.

"I knew it," Mary said bitterly. "Ever since when you lied about me, and kicked me out of school."

Wendy's heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to speak. "I…I didn't know the truth, Mary. I was lied to and manipulated. I didn't understand."

"Ha." Mary's scoff was cold, her disbelief palpable.

Wendy's hands were trembling, cold sweat pooling in her palms. She tried to remember what Ray had told her.

"You're lost, Mary," Wendy said, her voice softer now. "You don't know who you are. I get that. I do. But I know who you are. You're my friend."

Mary laughed again, sharp and unsettling. "Thanks for the kind words. But no thanks."

Wendy's stomach dropped. This wasn't working.

"I'll spare you, Wendy," Mary said, her voice suddenly casual again. "Go."

Wendy stood frozen, fear clawing at her insides. She couldn't let it end like this. She had to do something.

"You don't know who you are, Mary. That's why you're doing this."

Mary's face darkened, her smile turning cold. "No. I know exactly who I am."

Wendy's heart pounded as Mary continued, her voice dripping with menace. "I'm Mary. The psychotic killer who cold-bloodedly murdered everyone—children, women, old men. Anyone in my way. And I never die. I'm back to kill the idiots who think they're 'normal.'

"Mary—"

"I said, go. Or I might change my mind."

Mary's knife glinted in the dim light, pointing toward the exit. Wendy's fists shook, her breath catching in her throat.

"Please, we need to—"

"Wait! I hear someone talking about me." Mary's voice suddenly shifted, playful yet menacing. She started pacing, as though listening for a distant whisper. "Who's talking behind my back? Who thinks they're so great? You think you're normal? Think I'm a freak?"

Mary's eyes landed on the bleeding man in the corner. Wendy's heart dropped. He was still alive.

"Hey, you just talked behind my back, didn't you?" Mary said, her voice eerily calm as she stalked toward him. "What do you think I am? A freak? A psycho killer? A pathetic idiot?"

Wendy could see the hatred burning in Mary's eyes as she glared at the dying man. The tension was unbearable.

"You're evil," Mary hissed. "You're the bad guy. Do you understand?"

Wendy lunged forward, desperate to stop her. "No! Stop! He didn't say anything!"

Mary's head whipped around, her eyes locking onto Wendy. For a moment, the silence was suffocating. Her eyes widened unnaturally as she stared, unblinking, before turning back to the bodies.

"So I killed them. They talked behind my back. Said mean things. So I killed them. It's self-defense. Even the juries would understand. I don't need them."

Mary's voice became erratic, her words tumbling out without logic. Wendy watched in horror as her friend unraveled, her emotions shifting rapidly, like a machine on the verge of malfunction.

"Wendy?" Mary's voice was suddenly light again, her tone disturbingly cheerful. "Long time no see! What brings you here?"

Wendy's heart ached as she looked into Mary's eyes, seeing only fragments of the girl she once knew. She took a deep breath, steadying herself.

"It's been almost six years," Mary said, her smile wide and hollow. "How were you?"

Wendy didn't answer. She just stared, trying to hold on to the last piece of her friend.

"Yeah, I didn't do anything, but they kept saying I did. It's so unfair. But oh no," Mary's voice took on a singsong quality, her eyes shifting as though she were speaking to someone else entirely. "I just stayed alone, and then suddenly, Wendy showed up! My friend! Yes, miss, I play with Wendy nowadays. She takes me to all sorts of fun places I've never been to before! Really, no one ever played with me before, but Wendy did! She's so nice."

Wendy stood frozen, her stomach twisting. She could tell Mary wasn't really talking to her anymore.

"Yesterday, I saw that clown video," Mary continued, her eyes wide as though recounting something to an unseen figure. "A person was diving, and the clown cut the rope and he fell…he died. It was so violent. I wanted to try that too. But Wendy didn't like it, so I decided not to. Yes, miss, I don't want to upset her."

Wendy felt her throat tighten. Mary's words were jumbled, as if she was having a conversation with someone who wasn't there. She was talking to a ghost—someone from her past. The counselor.

"I think it'll be really boring if I go to that special school. I want to keep playing with Wendy. She's my partner," Mary said, her voice softening into something childlike. "Miss, can I not go there? I really don't want to. I won't be able to find Wendy there. I'm a freak, but she's really nice. She plays with me. She's nice."

Mary's voice darkened, her gaze hardening again as she shifted, her attention snapping back to the bleeding man. "But who talked mean to me? He deserves to die. But if I kill him, I'll go to jail, so I'll spare him…this time. So, so…"

She trailed off, her mind slipping further into the illusion, her words becoming disjointed. Wendy could barely breathe as she listened, tears welling up in her eyes.

"…Hey, Wendy."

Mary suddenly stopped, turning her attention back to her with wide, unblinking eyes. Her voice calmed, the manic energy draining from her as she finally made eye contact.

After a long silence, a sad smile crept onto Mary's face. It was the most vulnerable she had looked all night. "…I'm a freak. Right?"

Wendy couldn't hold it back anymore. Tears spilled down her cheeks, her throat too tight to form words. She cried silently, her body shaking as she struggled to contain her sobs.

Mary's expression softened into something almost gentle. "Wendy…what are you doing? I told you to go, before I change my mind…"

But Wendy didn't move. Her lips trembled, trying to keep any sound from escaping, but the tears kept coming, falling uncontrollably.

Mary rolled her eyes anxiously, then suddenly opened her mouth wide in surprise.

"Hey, it's Wendy! Long time no see! I wanted to see you, how were you? I've missed you! Did you miss me too?"

Wendy wiped the tears from her face and nodded weakly.

"I…I'm sorry, Mary. For everything. I…"

"…Wha…? For what?"

Mary's face twisted in confusion.
"Huh. Why is she crying? Is she coming to the special school too?"

"I'm sorry…I never really knew…even when I was by your side." Wendy continued wiping her tears, her voice trembling.

"I'm… I'm sorry I let Ms. Ryu deceive me."

At the mention of that name, Mary flinched. She began shaking uncontrollably, her eyes darting around in fear.

"Oh…Ms. Ryu…"

Mary's voice dropped, and she kept looking around like a scared animal.

"I don't want her here. She makes me feel stupid."

Wendy finally stopped crying, though her breaths were still shaky. She took a step closer to Mary, her voice gentle but firm.

"…What happened in that school, Mary?"

"…"

Mary remained silent, her expression serious, all traces of her earlier erratic behavior gone.

"What did the counselor do to you?" Wendy pressed.

"…"

Mary looked terrified, her face pale as she cast a glance around the room, checking for anyone who might be listening. Then her gaze landed on the barely conscious man in the corner.

"Him."

She pointed at the man, his uniform drenched in blood, his breaths shallow but steady.

"I can't talk because he's here."

Wendy turned to look at the man. His life was hanging by a thread, his body twitching with pain. She hesitated, knowing what had to be done, but her heart clenched with dread. If she left now, everything could fall apart. Ray could come back, and Mary's fragile trust would be shattered.

So, Wendy made a decision. She let the man die. She stood there, watching as his body convulsed and then fell still, his labored breaths fading into nothing.

"…Ah…Agh…"

As his body hit the floor, Mary finally stepped out of the dressing room, her face filled with a mix of relief and worry.

"Ha…Ha…it's okay now. Mary…there's no one here."

"Wendy…"

Mary walked toward her, concern etched across her face as she watched Wendy pant, her skin clammy with sweat.

"Now…can you please tell me? What happened there…in that school?"

Mary glanced at the dead body, gripping Wendy's hand with trembling fingers.

"Wendy, you might go to jail for this…"

"I don't care. Let them take me," Wendy spat, wiping her face and clenching her fists so tight that blood began to drip from her palms.

"There's no way down from here anyway."

Mary hesitated, her expression softening as she watched her friend's desperation. For the first time, her tightly guarded mind seemed to open.

"…That school," Mary whispered, her voice quivering. "It was…some kind of laboratory."

"A lab?" Wendy echoed, her voice filled with disbelief.

"Yeah…" Mary nodded, absentmindedly playing with Wendy's wounded hand, like a child seeking comfort.

"They locked up kids who didn't fit in. Gave us weird pills…made us chant strange things…"

"And your parents?" Wendy asked, her jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

"Didn't they care? Did they say nothing?"

Mary's face darkened.

"My parents hated me. Only kids from families that didn't care were sent there."

Even as she spoke, Mary kept fiddling with Wendy's hand, her actions childlike, almost innocent.

"And that counselor…Ms. Ryu…she was just a middleman."

"…That bitch," Wendy hissed through gritted teeth.

"Yeah…well…she sent kids with 'problems' and bad homes to that place. That's her main job."

Wendy's memories flashed back to the counselor, Ms. Ryu, who used to hunt for vulnerable kids, always hovering around those who missed school. It had all been a manipulation, a scheme to funnel troubled children into that twisted "special school."

"…Let's go to her now," Wendy said, her voice brimming with rage.

"What?" Mary blinked, surprised.

"We're going to teach her a lesson. Right now." Wendy's usual cool demeanor was gone, replaced by pure, burning fury.

Mary stared at her, then let out a soft, almost wistful laugh.

"You're still like this. You haven't changed a bit."

"…"

"You know, you'll go to jail if you hit her. Don't do that."

In that brief moment, Mary seemed to shrink, her demeanor shifting until she looked like a child again—a scared, mentally ill elementary school girl, fragile and innocent at heart.

Wendy watched Mary, her eyes filled with a sadness she hadn't allowed herself to feel in a long time. The child who once clung to her as a friend was now unraveling before her, a shell of the girl she used to be.

"…Those ropes. The ones the maintenance workers used—you didn't cut them, Mary. It wasn't you." Wendy's voice was soft, trying to reach the part of Mary that was still innocent, still good.

Mary's head tilted slightly as if considering the words, but then she let out a cold, dismissive snicker.

"Ropes? I don't know what you're talking about. Sorry, but you must be confused." Her tone was distant like she was talking about someone else.

"I guess there were other misunderstandings other than the bunny incident. Heehee."

Wendy stayed quiet, watching her friend. The Mary she knew seemed buried beneath layers of confusion and pain.

"But Ms. Ryu…" Mary's face hardened. "She'll go to any length to manipulate someone. I should've killed her when I had the chance. But…"

Mary let go of Wendy's hand, her fingers trembling as she pulled away.

"It's too late now. I'm…unstable. From the moment I was brought back, this weird instinct took over. It keeps telling me to define who I am, to be someone."

"Mary, it's—" Wendy started, but Mary cut her off.

"I kept stabbing people, Wendy. Over and over. And you know what? I felt nothing. Not even satisfaction. It was just an empty, endless need to keep stabbing, to fulfill the image people gave me. And now?" Mary smiled faintly, her eyes dull as she looked at Wendy.

"Look at me. You really thought of me as a friend, didn't you?"

Mary walked across the bloodstained floor, stopping in front of a tall mirror in the dressing room. Her reflection stared back—a young, pretty girl in a pure white dress, just like the ones she used to wear.

"You remembered the clothes too. Everything. All of it." Mary's voice was almost tender, but distant, like she was looking at a memory instead of herself.

Wendy walked toward her and took her hand again.

"Come on. Let's go hang out together."

"…Okay." Mary nodded, her voice small.

The staff door creaked open. Wendy, her red hair tousled and wild, carried the small girl on her back. She quickly walked out, heading toward the exit.

Outside, Ray was talking to the police, explaining the situation in a way that made sense to them. He glanced at Wendy and nodded when he saw Mary slumped on her back.

"Police officers, can we go now? We were here to rescue that child, and we did. We've got nothing to do with the rest of this massacre, as I've explained…"

The officer sighed, then nodded.

"Sure. Take her to the nearest hospital and get checked out. Sorry, you had to go through this."

Ray gestured for Wendy to leave. He knew what this meant, what Mary had become, and he trusted Wendy to handle it. As Wendy and Mary stepped out, they moved through the crowd. People whispered as they saw the small, fragile girl in Wendy's arms.

"A kid that young…she must've been hurt."
"Poor thing. How is she going to live with that?"
"The world's gone mad. Back in my day…"

The murmurs followed them, and Mary's expression twisted as their words wrapped around her. She could feel the weight of their pity, their judgment. This time, she wasn't seen as a monster. She was just a poor, broken girl.

Suddenly, her white dress began to stain with blood. Wounds appeared on her skin, slashes from invisible knives cutting into her flesh. It was the image people were giving her, affecting her immediately.

"Wendy…it hurts…it hurts…" Mary's voice trembled with pain.

"Hold on just a little longer. We're almost there." Wendy kept her voice steady as she hurried to the van, gently strapping Mary in. She drove as carefully as she could, her knuckles white against the steering wheel. Her wounds disappeared as they moved away from the people.

They arrived at the park—the one where Mary and Wendy used to catch lizards as kids. It was quiet now, almost untouched by time. Wendy parked the van and walked Mary over to the grassy spot where they used to play.

Mary dropped to her knees and began hopping around on all fours, trying to catch a lizard. But the creatures slipped through her small hands, too quick for her.
"Here you go." Wendy crouched down and caught one under a rock, handing it to Mary with a soft smile.

"Wow…" Mary's eyes lit up with childlike wonder. She took the lizard, holding it carefully by the body. It wriggled in her grasp but soon settled, resting in her small hands.

"Why don't you touch it?" Wendy encouraged.

"Hee hee," Mary giggled, her smile pure and unburdened for a brief moment. After a while, she gently let the lizard go, watching it scurry away into the grass. Then she turned to Wendy, her eyes soft and distant.

"I hope…we get to be in the same class again next time."

Her voice was fading, just like her body. Her skin lost color, her form slowly becoming transparent. Wendy's heart clenched as she watched her friend slip away.

"Where are you going?" Wendy asked, though she knew there would be no answer. Mary was already too far gone. And soon, she was gone completely—just like that. Wendy's lips twitched, but the words she wanted to say, the final goodbye, never came.

The lizard scampered away, disappearing into the grass, leaving nothing behind but footsteps. Footsteps of a child who had once been there, playing and laughing.

And that was enough.

"…Goodbye, Mary." Wendy whispered to the empty park. She stood there, alone, for a long, long time, letting the silence settle over her like a blanket of memory and grief.