A/N: I feel like I should have posted this on Halloween. Sorry, wrong holiday! Please bear with me. I promise a happy ending!
There is a brief graphic description of a burnt corpse ahead.
"I brought you something else too." Rang retrieved a plain black box from the pocket of his tan sport coat. Clearly nervous, yet adamant, he thrust it out at her. When she hesitated to take it, he set the box on Shin-joo and Yu Ri's couch.
Ga Eul picked it up and removed the lid, unsure of what to expect. A necklace, perhaps? Another gift to soften her up after he'd insulted, frightened, and deceived her.
Inside the box lay a small vial of liquid and a syringe.
"It's…medicine?"
"It's a tranquilizer. For foxes." Rang noted this with enthusiasm. "Not that you should have to use it, but I thought maybe it would make you feel safer. If you ever feel scared again—not that I'm going to scare you again—but if you did feel scared, for any reason, it will knock me out for a few hours. You'll be more powerful than a nine-tailed fox, and you don't have to be trapped anywhere."
Ga Eul tried not to let her anxiety show on her face, but it got harder the further the imposter drove from Seoul. They'd been on the expressway for over an hour, and she still had no idea where they were headed. Currently, she was pretending to sleep.
To complicate matters, she'd come up with a tentative plan to evade her captor, but the plan wouldn't work with them hurtling down the road at a hundred kilometers per hour. She didn't care to get herself killed. She wished she knew when they would get off the expressway. If she knew the route, she could time her attack to result in the least potential damage—to herself or anyone else on the roadway. She didn't want to try attacking once her imposter stopped the car. Better to do it while they were distracted with driving, even if she had to put herself at risk.
She was at risk, anyway. At greater risk, unfortunately, than a car accident might pose to her.
Ga Eul ran through her plan again. She would pretend to look for her chapstick while she loaded the syringe with the tranquilizer. When the imposter wasn't looking, she would stab her.
Well, it wasn't much of a plan, was it? But it was all she could do. Over the past year, she'd considered taking the tranquilizer out of her purse too many times to count—she'd never expected to use it—but Rang had given it to her, so she hadn't. Now she was infinitely grateful for her hoarding habits.
The car shifted and slowed, as if they'd taken an exit, and Ga Eul dared to peek out the window. They had.
"You're awake." Rang's voice floated to her, soft but missing its usual warmth.
Having been caught, Ga Eul straightened up and answered, "Yes." She dutifully yawned. "I guess I was tired from grading papers last night." She'd done no such thing, and Rang's silence on the matter confirmed that he was, indeed, not Rang.
They were on a smaller road now, one with only two lanes. A few cars passed them, spaced at intervals. Wide enough intervals that Ga Eul decided she wouldn't get a better opportunity to knock the imposter out.
"I need more chapstick. Would you like some?" she mumbled, picking her purse up from the floorboard and rooting around in it. Finding the black box, she popped it open and removed the syringe and the vial of liquid. She took off the syringe's cap, stabbed the needle into the vial, and drew out what she hoped was a proper amount of the drug, given that she couldn't see well. Fearing she was taking too long, she retrieved her chapstick.
"You think foxes need chapstick?" the imposter replied in a tone so mocking Ga Eul might have sworn they were Rang if she didn't know better.
Ga Eul forced a smile, though she felt like crying. How she wished Rang were there to mock her silly human questions, to make faces at her and then abruptly touch her hair and gaze at her like she was the most beautiful creature in the world.
"You're my boyfriend. I'm supposed to offer you things like that," she gently chided, smoothing the ointment over her lips. Capping the chapstick, she stuck it back in her purse, then drew the syringe from the vial. In one swift motion, she whipped the syringe out and speared it into the imposter's neck. She pushed the plunger as far as it would go, knowing she'd get one literal stab at it. She would have lunged for the steering wheel afterward, ready to take control of it, but the imposter jerked the car in surprise, throwing Ga Eul into the passenger door. Tires screeched. Ga Eul's head hit the window glass. She winced and yelped.
Swerving until the car righted itself, the imposter snatched the syringe out of their neck. Two fury-laced golden eyes, narrowed to slits, landed first on the needle, then on Ga Eul. The two of them stared, sizing each other up.
Why wasn't the imposter falling unconscious?! Rang had said the medicine worked on foxes! He wouldn't have lied to her. But his hard, unforgiving stare lingered, truly frightening Ga Eul for the first time.
Was the imposter not a fox?!
They brought the needle point of the syringe to Rang's nose. They sniffed. A cruel smile spread across their face. Ga Eul knew it well—Rang's smile of delight when he had someone cornered. For once, she found no pleasure in it.
"A tranquilizer." Rang's smooth voice rolled over her, making her sick. "Unexpected. Clever, but not clever enough." Casting their eyes to the road, the imposter rolled down their window and tossed the syringe out of it, along with Ga Eul's one hope for escape. "I was in a cage once," they continued. "The demons who put me there shot me up with all sorts of horrible things. But I can get used to any poison if I take it long enough. It's my special skill. My sister taught me."
Ga Eul's stomach roiled with dread.
"Wh-who are you?" she stammered, hating how her voice shook. She enjoyed feeling helpless and small under Rang's stare, but not like this. He'd been right: she only liked being a little scared. She liked being scared of him because she knew he wouldn't hurt her.
"My name's Su Gyeong," the imposter answered, and horror sunk into Ga Eul's bones. A sharp prick of fear trickled down her throat and shivered across her shoulder blades.
"Ah"—the imposter sneered with delight—"so you've heard of me."
"Rang told me some stories." Ga Eul tried to keep her voice level. "He said you traveled together." He said he saved me from you. He said you nearly killed him. He told me you were dead.
Rang's cheeks contorted with laughter, creating dimples on either side of his mouth. Gorgeous dimples, perfect lips.
"You should take off his face. It doesn't suit you," Ga Eul snapped. She couldn't help it. She couldn't stand to look at Rang knowing he wasn't there.
"Well, you're a feisty one, aren't you?" Rang's eyes gleamed with secret threats, and not the good kind.
Ga Eul swallowed; she shifted properly into her seat from where she'd been pinned against the door, from discomfort rather than any desire to be closer to Su Gyeong.
"Only when provoked," Ga Eul muttered. She clawed her fingers into the leather seat but refused to shrink under Su Gyeong's perusal of her.
With a derisive smirk, Su Gyeong looked back to the road.
"You'll like the face beneath his even less," she replied. "So what gave me away? I suppose you had to be clever if Rang chose you to be his mate, but I thought we had a little longer together." A fake pout.
"Rang doesn't find me clever at all." Ga Eul's frankness prompted what sounded like a genuine laugh from Su Gyeong, so she continued in that vein, "You left me alone for a moment when you came to pick me up. Rang cares for me too much to do that. If I was in danger, he wouldn't let me out of his sight until I was safe." Ga Eul hardened her tone, hoping Su Gyeong would catch her meaning. The fox would be in big trouble if she harmed a hair on Ga Eul's head.
Unfortunately, Rang's smile shifted then, becoming cruel and mischievous at once.
"I'm counting on that...little human."
As requested, Yu Ri had met Rang in front of Ga Eul's school, and when she'd informed Shin-joo of the situation, he'd rushed there from his work. Both of them looked as ready to murder Su Gyeong as Rang felt. They took their loyalties very seriously, and Ga Eul had been a good friend to them long before she'd been Rang's girlfriend. Hell, they'd lectured him after he'd flipped out on her.
"You're sure you have no idea where she would have taken Ga Eul?" Yu Ri asked again, armed with her hair pins and a restless, dangerous edge to her movements. Neither she nor Rang would hesitate to do what was necessary to get Ga Eul back. Shin-joo would probably hesitate, but at least he could take care of any injuries Ga Eul might have incurred.
Injuries. Ga Eul. Rang tore at his hair.
"I don't know! I don't know! If she's not at our apartment…" Rang choked on the last word and broke off. He cursed and slammed his fist into the trunk of his car, leaving a small dent.
Shin-joo had checked Rang's apartment on his way over but hadn't found Ga Eul or anything out of the ordinary. He'd wanted to fill Lee Yeon in on the situation, but Rang had made him swear not to. Not only was Yeon human, but he'd almost lost him before. He couldn't afford to have the two most important people in his life in danger at the same time. Thinking back to his earlier conversation with Yeon, he realized he still had no answer if he had to choose between him and Ga Eul.
"From what you've told us about Su Gyeong, I think it's safe to assume she wants you to find Ga Eul eventually." Shin-joo said this in his doctor voice. Rang supposed he meant it to be soothing, but his calmness grated against Rang's desire to act. To act immediately. To act violently.
"She has to either call you," the vet continued, "or take Ga Eul somewhere that has meaning to both of you. She hasn't called, so she must be expecting you to figure it out."
"None of the places we traveled to exist anymore, and I hardly remember most of them. It was six hundred years ago!"
"There must be something."
"Well, there's not!" Unless…
Rang frowned. It was hard to remember the exact location where he'd dropped Su Gyeong's ring into the falls, but he did remember where his brother had found him and slashed him with his sword. He remembered where he'd enslaved himself to the CEO. The site would be part of Seoraksan National Park now, about two hours from Seoul by car. If he was wrong, they'd be wasting valuable time, but it would be like Su Gyeong to bring him back to where it all began.
"She's at a park. Seoraksan." As he spoke the words, Rang felt a certainty sweep over him. A gift of his recently enhanced senses, he guessed. He hoped.
Fuck, it was freezing out, and the forest would be colder than the city. Ga Eul wasn't wearing proper clothes. If any harm came to Ga Eul—gods forbid, if she died—he was going to hurt Su Gyeong in every conceivable way, all at once. He would never deserve Ga Eul, and Ga Eul certainly didn't deserve to be punished for his trust in the wrong person, centuries ago. But he'd saved her from Su Gyeong once; if history was repeating itself, he could only hope that meant he'd save her once more.
Little human, please hold on. We're coming for you.
Seated on the damp ground beneath an ancient yew tree, Ga Eul woke to distant hoots and caws. Wintry flakes clung to her wool coat and plaid scarf. A biting wind lashed her face. The bitter cold left her shivering.
Nearby, densely clustered pine and yew trees towered over the landscape, flying squirrels scampering around their broad bases and leaping from branch to branch. A dusting of white coated the tree limbs and their greenery like fine icing on a cookie. In any other context, the wintry woodland scene would have been peaceful, even breathtaking. As things were, the steady rhythm of a woodpecker above Ga Eul's head resembled a drum announcing her doom.
The snow continued to fall.
Standing up, Ga Eul cast about. She saw no sign of Su Gyeong in Rang's body. No travelers in the dense forest. No trails. She couldn't be sure if she was in a park or in the wilderness. She didn't remember Su Gyeong parking the car. She didn't remember arriving at her current location, though her sore feet, battered black flats, and a painful twinge in her ankle indicated she had hiked a good distance. But none of that concerned Ga Eul as much as the lack of sound when she opened her mouth to scream.
She felt no vibrations in her throat, as if someone had removed her vocal cords. Tears of despair splashed her cheeks. Desperately, she cried out again. Or tried to. The birds cawed louder, mocking her silence.
Rang had told her that foxes could blind humans. She supposed it made sense that they could also take away a human's ability to speak. But what did Su Gyeong intend to do? Leave her in the middle of the wilderness so she would freeze to death? That didn't sound right. From everything Rang had told Ga Eul about her, Su Gyeong enjoyed torturing humans with her own hands. She liked drawing out their agony and watching their fear consume them. Not from a distance, but up close. If Ga Eul couldn't scream, she'd soon have a reason to, one beyond that of simply wanting to escape. She appeared to be alone, but she didn't trust appearances. If she started walking, would the path before her lead deeper into the forest or out of it? Or would it not lead into the forest at all, but somewhere darker?
Ga Eul decided to stay put for a moment. To wait, to watch, to listen.
The forest looked real enough. When she touched the bark of the yew tree, the wood scratched her palm. The air smelled strongly of pine sap and a certain freshness that permeated the air in natural habitats. She stepped forward, and brown yew needles, poking out under the thin layer of snow, shifted under her feet.
Staying alert to any sudden movements beyond the trees, Ga Eul took another step, then another. She advanced slowly, turning in a circle as she did so, certain Su Gyeong or another awful creature would leap out at her. But after a few minutes of walking, with her heart beating rampant in her chest, nothing appeared except a skittish deer.
This didn't relieve Ga Eul; it set her on edge. Su Gyeong was a hunter, and she was the prey, so surely this was a game, but she didn't know the rules. Nevertheless, she tried to be prepared for anything as she ventured further from where she'd been abandoned.
Do you know that foxes stalk their prey until they're within striking distance? Rang had told her once. Then they rush at them suddenly and pounce. If it's a larger prey, the fox kills it immediately, but if it's smaller, they like to play with it a bit first. You know which type you are, my little human.
Ga Eul halted in her tracks. What if Rang would have told her not to move? Maybe Ga Eul was playing right into Su Gyeong's hands by wandering.
She bit her chapped lower lip. No, she couldn't go back. She had to find a way out of this place. Even if she was heading into a trap, she couldn't imagine Rang wanting her to wait around for him like a fragile princess in a decrepit tower. He was always demanding she take care of herself.
She hoped that she could.
Soon, the ground sloped down, and Ga Eul became more confident in her direction. Down seemed better than up, at any rate, and walking warmed her a little. Not terribly much, but enough. She didn't think she'd die of hypothermia as long as she kept moving, though she wished she'd worn boots and thick tights instead of ballet flats and sheer black hose. Briars tore through the thin fabric and scraped her legs bloody, but she pressed on with increasing speed as caution gave way to the desperate hope that she'd truly been left alone and only needed to find her way back to a path or a person. A little further, and she might come upon a guidepost. A sign.
In her haste, Ga Eul scrambled down a ridge too quickly. She tripped on a rock jutting out of the earth and tumbled headlong into the dirt, scraping her knees and tearing her hose further. Her head pounded as she stood up on shaky legs, and she cursed herself for not being more observant. Abruptly, she heard a voice in the distance, so muffled it could have been a dream, except that it was getting closer. Soon, she heard it distinctly. Not Rang's voice but Yu Ri's, calling her name.
She opened her mouth to reply, forgetting she couldn't make a sound. The more she strained to cry out, the less her body cooperated. Stamping her foot in frustration, Ga Eul headed toward the voice instead. She jogged, then broke into a run, ignoring the pain in her ankle. When she'd covered a fair distance, though, and was quite out of breath, Yu Ri's voice disappeared, and Shin-joo called to her from another direction. She pivoted, and her ankle ached in protest, but she pushed on, feet pounding the pine needles and snow. Ga Eul leapt over branches; she swerved around underbrush and nearly lost her balance on a slope leading down to a creek. A carpet of dead leaves slipped out from under her, causing her to slide, but she managed to catch herself on a dead tree that had fallen at an angle.
Regaining her balance, she stared down into the slow-moving stream and panted hard. If not for the unfamiliar creek, she would have thought she'd been going in circles. All the trees looked the same, and Shin-joo's voice had disappeared as well. Ga Eul wasn't even sure it had been him and not Su Gyeong playing a trick on her. Without the use of her voice to reply, how could she be certain? How could she be certain Su Gyeong wasn't watching her right now, disguised as a bird? She could be laughing at her.
Ga Eul squeezed her eyes shut, steeling herself against her pounding headache. Maybe that was the point. Her confusion. The fox would slowly drive her mad.
I can do other animals too, not just cats, Rang's voice echoed in her mind. Name anything, and I can do it.
Deciding she'd had enough of following voices and wearing herself out in the process, she picked her way down the slope, careful to put less weight on her right foot. There was no telling how off-course she'd gotten. She'd be more cautious from now on, more wary of every sound. She felt stupid for letting her hope override her common sense—she was in a fox's territory. Of course, nothing would be as it seemed.
You're not stupid. You just see good in everyone. People who aren't looking for deception are easy to deceive.
Was this how Rang had survived all this time—constantly looking over his shoulder, never trusting his own eyes and ears? No wonder he'd been so paranoid when they'd first met.
Something rustled in the underbrush, and Ga Eul stilled. A squirrel emerged into a patch of sunlight, his eyes landing on hers. The squirrel's head twitched, and the sunlight faded from where it had been pooled at its feet. Overhead, the sky grew dim, shrouding the forest in shadow, and a thick fog descended. Combined with the snow, the fog blanketed the forest in an eerie white until the tree branches looked like giant claws breaking through the earth, stretching up from some underground monster.
It wasn't possible for the weather to change so quickly, in the blink of an eye, unless…
Did Su Gyeong have power over the elements too?
More unsettled, she backed up against the nearest tree, not daring to sit down and not daring to venture into the fog. More cawing rent the air, followed by a low growl Ga Eul couldn't place.
Rang! she cried out automatically, but the word never left her throat. Rang! she tried again. Nothing. She was so powerless, she couldn't even cry for help.
You're not powerless at all, Rang's voice returned, scolding her. Do you know any other humans who have a pet fox? I'll tell you a secret. There are exactly zero other humans in the universe who have one.
She recalled her reply: Even so, you're the one with special powers, not me.
Of course you have special powers, he'd said. The underworld gods might hate me, but they wouldn't pick just any human to be my soulmate. And I wouldn't be just any human's pet, only yours. You're warm and bright and special.
At the moment, Ga Eul didn't feel special or particularly bright. She felt lost and frightened. Even if she could command him, Rang wasn't there. She had to defend herself, and she didn't know how.
Tears pricked her eyes. The cold sliced through her coat like it was made of lace instead of wool.
Meanwhile, the thick fog pressed in on her, seeping towards her from all directions till she couldn't see the forest at all. Inside the wispy white clouds, dark shadows, strange and grotesque, flickered, then vanished in swirls of dark smoke. Heat, strangely, began lapping at Ga Eul's skin; it grew in intensity until it couldn't be ignored. The snow melted at her feet. Her clothes dampened with sweat. The fog darkened from white to gray, from gray to black. As the heat advanced, the mist curled into smoke. Her lungs burned. Her eyes burned. She couldn't get enough air. The roar of fire drew nearer and nearer, gold and orange flames forming a circle around the tree. Ga Eul had been shivering before; now her wool coat suffocated her.
A fire safety chant she'd learned as a child skipped into her brain, stupid in its cheerful innocence. Holding her scarf to her mouth and nose, she fell to her knees, remembering she should stay low to the ground in a fire. When she fell, her free hand touched what felt like a hot coal, and she snatched it away. Her palm had been scalded: a second degree burn. Ga Eul mouthed a scream, knowing it was foolish. Even if she'd had the use of her vocal cords, she didn't have the air to waste.
Her injury prompted her to sit up again, and when she'd straightened, a figure appeared through the black smoke, stopping just before her: a walking corpse, burned beyond recognition, part of its body blackened and part of it enflamed. With her good hand, Ga Eul clasped her mouth in horror.
She'd grabbed its foot.
Despite its closed eyes, burned shut, the corpse reached for her, its arm a patchwork of meaty red and leathery black. Claws protruded from its fingertips. They stopped short of Ga Eul's throat. She scuffled back, and the corpse followed her, smoke pouring from its mouth into Ga Eul's lungs. Wheezing soundlessly, she stood and flattened herself against the tree.
Run, she scolded herself, but she froze instead. Her eyes throbbed with so much pain, she could barely keep them open, but she refused to close them on the thing that had come to kill her.
The thing that had come to kill her.
That had come to kill her.
Ga Eul dug her uninjured hand into the tree's rough bark, grounding herself. This wasn't real. None of it was real. Su Gyeong wouldn't let a burning corpse tear her apart. She would do that herself.
Never assume you know what a fox would do, Rang's voice rang out, cutting through her panic. But what choice did Ga Eul have? She knew the squirrel had looked at her—its black, beady eyes two terrible crystal balls foretelling her death—and after that, the fog had started. A hallucination.
You're not real, Ga Eul told the corpse. Go away. But the stench of burning flesh grew stronger, and Ga Eul turned her face away, gagging. Her palm raged with pain, and what little oxygen she'd had access to dissipated. Gasping for breath, she collapsed at the base of the tree. Simply knowing the illusion wasn't real didn't give her the strength to break free of it. It was fighting her attempt. Rang had said that it would do that. He'd also said—Ga Eul rolled onto her stomach, planting her forehead to the dry ground and begging the earth for oxygen—that he could break into a human's mind through a crack in its defenses. Similarly, a fox's hypnosis could be broken if the human's subconscious found the weak point in its illusion. Not many humans succeeded at this, but every so often, it happened. A parent remembered their child had died, despite all evidence the fox had planted to the contrary.
There must be a crack somewhere, something her mind could latch onto and use to pull itself free. But Ga Eul was running out of air and out of time. For all she knew, she was suffocating to death in reality, no matter how false the illusion was. Ga Eul squeezed her eyes shut.
No. She couldn't die here, wherever here was, and leave Rang alone. He'd been alone for too long. She had to keep fighting. You are warm and bright and special, Ga Eul. Think.
She'd expected Su Gyeong to claw her to death, to rip out her organs while she yet breathed. Why a fire? Why the hell was there a fire?
Her sister. Ga Eul cracked her eyes open with the realization. Su Gyeong's sister had died in a fire. A forest fire like this one. She must have found the body to recreate her corpse in such detail. Or maybe she'd watched as her sister burned to death.
What a horrible thing for a child to witness. Despite the situation, Ga Eul felt a pang of sympathy for her captor. And then it dawned on her. The crack in the illusion, the thing that could connect her back to reality, to the fox on the other side, was the corpse.
Foxes were built for unwavering devotion. Rang had saved a sliver of his heart for her. Maybe Su Gyeong had done the same for her sister.
You're Su Gyeong's sister, aren't you? Coughing, Ga Eul staggered to her feet and looked directly at the burned creature, then pointed to herself. I'm Chu Ga Eul. I'm sorry, but this is my mind. You shouldn't be here.
The charred body crept closer, a life-size branding iron backing her into the tree until their bodies nearly touched. The stench of burnt flesh, again, made her want to retch, but Ga Eul gulped the impulse down and breathed only with her mouth. She found a little oxygen, more than there had been. The grip on her mind had loosened, ever so slightly. Through the flames lingering on the corpse's body, she saw the remnants of what might have been a beautiful hanbok, blackening to ash.
With shaking fingers, Ga Eul stripped off her coat. She thrust it out and pressed it to the corpse's chest.
Here. Are you cold? She stared at the fox's eyelids, burned shut. Imagining two radiant eyes there, gold and glowing, Ga Eul mustered the kindest smile she could. Go on. Take it. Everything will be okay.
At once, the illusion fell. The corpse vanished, and so did the mist, the smoke, the flames. Sweet, clear, cool air flooded her lungs, and Ga Eul doubled over, sucking in oxygen, never so glad to hear her own hoarseness, until the pain in her lungs subsided, then disappeared along with its source. The icy wind cooled her feverish skin, offering relief beyond words. She glanced at her palm—unblemished, whole. Light dappled the forest floor. A blanket of snow coated the ground. The world was cold, but quiet.
Before Ga Eul stood a female fox, her face not charred but disfigured, as though someone had slashed it and burned it with acid. A deep scar ran from the corner of her eye down to her lip and further on down to her chin. One eye hung lazy in its socket.
Her stylish black suit resembled something Yu Ri might wear, but much of her unearthly beauty had been maimed. Even one of her tails, flared out behind her, bore scars amid little fur. What manner of creature could do all of that to a nine-tailed fox? What manner of fox was she to have survived it?
Snatching Ga Eul's coat, the fox threw it on the ground, fury and alarm in her eyes. Ga Eul had held the coat out to her.
Calmer and more confident now that she'd broken the spell, Ga Eul straightened and spoke aloud. Her voice came out rougher and lower than normal, but strong.
"Hello, Su Gyeong."
A/N: If I don't see you again before then, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! :)
Seoraksan National Park is an actual place you can visit; if you look up pictures, it is gorgeous. The waterfall mentioned is based on Towangseong Falls. Located at the park, it is the tallest waterfall in Korea. I may have taken some liberties with the geography for plot purposes.