It was the night of Christmas eve 2008. Snow was falling slowly outside twelve year old Kim Yeon-Hee's window as she was busy drawing something on her bed, sprawled all over with crayons of different colors. A knock came on the door that made her stop what she was doing and look at the hallway where her mother was standing. She was wearing a flowery yellow apron over her comfortable white sweater and black denim skirt. A sweet smile on her face, with her hair tied into a messy low bun.

"What are you doing?" She asked in a curious tone, craning her head upwards to peek at what her daughter was so focused with. Yeon-Hee looked back down, quickly finishing the last touches of her drawing as she replied in a even tone:

"A gift. For you, dad and Hyun-Ju." She said.

"Really? Let me see it." Her mother jumped, walking in the room towards her. Yeon-Hee stopped drawing and quickly flipped the page, slamming it down with a rough expression, making her mother flinch saying:

"Oh my."

"No! You can't see it yet." She said, sliding off her bed and walking to her desk drawer to hide the drawing, all while not showing any details of it to her mother, who stared at So-Hee with a face full of shock.

"Tomorrow," Yeon-Hee said, looking at her mother with a wide smile, "Is dinner ready?" She changed the topic, knowing the conversation would lead to her getting tickled to reveal it.

She walked out of the room, leaving her mother all by herself as she scoffed in shock, then following with:

"She takes after her father." as she walked out of the room and closed the door behind her.

Yeon-Hee was already at the bottom of the stairs, walking towards the dinner table as she stopped. Her attention was caught by the multi-colored makeshift wall of cubes made by her little brother. She stared at him as he diligently built his wall that had already reached up to her waist, growing higher.

Her attention was then drawn to the voice coming from the radio being listened to by her tall father, who had a serious expression. It was the news station he had been listening to for the past few days, speaking about the same topic:

"The twenty fourth victim was found earlier today in her apartment, killed and left with the killer's unmistakable signature: A bouquet of white Chrysanthemums placed in her orifices. The serial killer, dubbed the "The Chrysanthemum Killer." by the public, has left this nation startled again on this supposed wonderful day, with the police being slandered for their numerous failed attempts to catch the killer-"

Yeon-Hee never knew what that was about, but from the expression on her father's face, she knew it was bad. She also did not hear the rest as she turned to her mother walking down the creaky bottom steps, staring at Yeon-Hee and then at her husband, who was deeply focused on the radio. Her face turned from happiness to anger as she took a deep breath and walked over to him, smacking his back multiple times. He winced and turned around to stop his wife from hitting him more where he sustained injuries from work.

"I said don't listen to such things near the children!" She yelled at him.

"Alright, alright, I'll turn it off," Her husband replied in a wincing tone, turning the radio off and looking at Yeon-Hee, "You didn't hear that?" He asked her.

Yeon-Hee was about to answer when her brother did it instead:

"Killer! Killer!" He shouted, still building his wall. Her mother smacked her father again on the shoulder, making him apologize. He quickly changed the topic, smelling the aroma of food.

"Is dinner ready? I'm starving. Come on, kids." He said, ushering for them to follow him to the kitchen. They all followed and were about to sit down, when suddenly, the lights went out, scaring them all enough to gasp and whisper. Her father sighed and wasted no time, quickly dashing to the closet and grabbing two flashlights and turning them on, handing one to his wife.

"What's going on?" Asked her mother, waving the flashlight around. Her brother stopped what he was doing and walked to his mother, standing behind her.

"I don't know," Her father replied, walking to the windows and peeking at the neighbours, "The other houses still have lights... I'm going outside to check the breaker." He said, walking to the coat rack to grab a jacket and then straight to the door, putting his shoes on. He opened the door and left, leaving it slightly ajar in his rush.

The house they lived in was spacious and in a nice neighbourhood situated outside the city, near the forest. He walked around to the back of the house, to where the breaker was, shivering as he was only wearing his thin, grey jacket that did not help against the cold. He reached the back, where the breaker was. His mumbling about the call he was going to have with the landlord was cut short by the lock he stepped on.

Immediately, the shivering ceased as his stomach churned with unease and fear at what he saw: the circuit breaker was ripped open, the wires cut with a sharp object.

He took a step back, looking around the hedges of the fence that was too short for his liking, and the forest that was too close as if the culprit was around, only seeing nothing but darkness and the falling of snow. The culprit wasn't around him. Or anywhere outside at all for that matter.

Yeon-Hee was the first to notice the tall figure walking in silently, mistaking them for her father. She took three steps forward, smiling.

"Dad, your back. What ha-" She stopped, losing her voice as her heart sank, taking another three steps backwards. Her mother turned around, curious as to why Yeon-Hee went quiet, suddenly feeling the same dread her daughter felt when her flashlight illuminated the man in front of them, who was not her husband.

Instead, it was a man clad in all-black, bulky military jacket, pants and heavy boots. His face was covered by the cap and mask he wore as he stood menacingly still. The only thing that moved was the large duffle bag in his hand with the clinking of glass coming from it, and in the other gloved hand was a long and sharp hunting knife that glistened with the shine of the flashlight.

They all didn't move for a few seconds, bleak light coming in from the open door letting in bits of snow and the torch her mother held with a shaky hand. Then, just like that, with a clinking drop off the duffle bag, he took two large steps, already hovering over Yeon-Hee. His hand that was armed with the knife was already in the air, aiming for the poor child. She shrieked loud enough that her father, who was outside, heard it clearly.

"Y-Yeon-Hee!" He yelled, then remembering the door he left slightly ajar far too late.