"Finally, that devil is gone," the doctor muttered, crossing his arms as he stared at the empty cell from the small window. A shiver of unease still ran down his spine, despite the absence of the cell's occupant.
The nurse nodded, her expression mirroring his wariness. "I still don't get why he was sent here instead of a jail cell. People like him shouldn't be around patients who are actually trying to get better."
The doctor sighed. "You're telling me. It's like housing a wolf among lambs. No matter how many locks or restraints we used, there was always something unsettling about him… like he was always watching us, waiting for the right moment."
"Do you know he called himself an 'artist'?" the nurse scoffed, rolling her eyes. "An artist! Said he needed 'inspiration' for his so-called masterpieces."
"Oh, I know. Heard enough about his 'artwork' to last a lifetime." The doctor shook his head, letting out a low chuckle. "Still, they say he's brilliant. As mad as he is, his mind is sharper than any I've ever seen. It's scary, really."
"Good riddance," she muttered, crossing her arms. "I don't know what kind of artist enjoys using fear as their canvas."
With a final, silent glance at the empty cell, the two turned and walked away, each step echoing down the stark, sterile hallway, marking an end to a chapter that had left them both unnerved.
Outside the asylum, the morning sun cast a golden hue over the grounds. Kim Byulhwa stretched and yawned, his lips curving into a faint, contented smile. His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as he patted his coat pockets absentmindedly.
"Ah," he murmured, brushing a stray lock of dark hair from his forehead. "That stay was quite comfortable… although the food could use some spice." He hummed a tune to himself, something sweet and carefree, at odds with his unsettling reputation.
He wandered along the edge of the road, lost in thought. The air around him felt refreshingly free, as if he were shedding the weight of his confinement with each step. His gaze drifted to the distant skyline, and he muttered to himself.
"Where to find inspiration next, I wonder?" His fingers drummed thoughtfully against his coat pocket. "Perhaps somewhere vibrant… or quiet…"
His mind meandered through the possibilities, lingering on images he had yet to fully realize. His eyes glazed over in a daze as he envisioned colors, textures, and shadows, each tantalizingly close yet frustratingly elusive. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice the distant hum of a car engine roaring louder and louder.
A loud honk shattered his reverie, but before he could turn to see the source of the noise, a speeding car barreled around the corner and hit him. His body crumpled onto the pavement, the impact echoing with a sickening thud. A crowd began to gather, their voices blending into a murmur as the world around him started to blur and fade.
As Kim Byulhwa drifted toward unconsciousness, a single thought pressed through the haze clouding his mind:
"I couldn't… finish… my cute baby… this time…"