The desire, sticky, dark, pulsating, seized Choi Sung-Wook as soon as Ji-Hye and Min-Joon crossed the threshold of the loft. The anticipation of the upcoming fight, the spectacle of fury and pain, was almost tangible, like a sweet, intoxicating aroma. His excitement, predatory and hungry, grew with each passing second, with each beat of his heart.
And the threads, the invisible tentacles of his power, responded to this inner impulse. They tightened, stretched, like the string of a bow ready to release a deadly arrow. The air in the loft thickened, became electrified, filled with a subtle but oppressive sense of danger.
The building itself, the old abandoned skyscraper that had become the Puppeteer's lair, shuddered under the onslaught of this newly formed, dark aura. Like an invisible barrier woven from shadows and ominous whispers, it enveloped the building, cutting it off from the rest of the world.
Inside this cocoon, woven from power and twisted desire, Choi Sung-Wook waited. His eyes, usually hidden behind lenses, now burned with an unhealthy gleam, reflecting the flickering of invisible threads. The smile that distorted his face resembled the snarl of a predator that had caught the scent of blood.
He saw Ji-Hye and Min-Joon enter the hall, saw them look around uncertainly, saw their bodies tense as they noticed each other.
— Welcome, — Sung-Wook's voice, amplified by speakers, echoed through the loft, making them both flinch. — I'm glad you both came.
He descended to them via the spiral staircase, slowly, as if savoring each step. His movements were smooth, graceful, but they exuded a barely restrained power, ready to burst out at any moment.
— Today is a special day, — he continued, stopping in front of them. — A day when you will show me what you are capable of. Not separately, but together.
Ji-Hye and Min-Joon exchanged glances. Their eyes showed bewilderment mixed with anxiety. They clearly hadn't expected this turn of events.
— You will fight each other, — Sung-Wook looked them over, enjoying their confusion. — Not just a training fight, but a real test. A test of your strength, your will, your… thirst for victory.
— But… teacher, — Min-Joon began, — isn't that dangerous?
— Dangerous? — Sung-Wook smirked. — Of course, it's dangerous. But isn't that what you were striving for? Isn't that why you came to me? To become stronger? To overcome your fears? To… survive?
His words fell into the silence like heavy drops, poisoning the air, thickening the atmosphere. The threads around him pulsed, vibrated, like living creatures thirsting for blood.
Outside, beyond the walls of the loft, the invisible barrier was doing its work. Small animals, birds, insects that fell within its range weakened, lost their orientation, and became easy prey for predators. Even stray dogs, attracted by the strange smell emanating from the building, tucked their tails between their legs and ran away howling.
The Puppeteer's aura, his twisted desire, his thirst for spectacle, distorted reality, turning the loft into an arena where not just people, but the elements embodied in human form, were to clash.
Inside, Sung-Wook continued his game.
— Don't be afraid, — he said, seeing the fear in their eyes. — I will be watching. And, perhaps, I will even help… if one of you turns out to be too weak.
He paused, enjoying the effect he had produced.
— But remember, — his voice became কঠোর, — there will be no mercy. You must fight with all your might. Use all your abilities. Don't hold back.
He came closer, looking into the eyes of first Ji-Hye, then Min-Joon.
— Show me what you are capable of, — he whispered. — Show me your rage. Your pain. Your… darkness.
His words were laced with poison, temptation, the promise of power and… destruction. He was offering them not just a fight, but a deal with the devil. A deal in which the price was their own soul.
— Begin, — he said, stepping back and giving them space to fight. — And may the strongest win.
He walked over to the wall, leaned against it, and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes gleamed predatorily, his smile became even wider, and the threads around him danced in an impatient dance.
Ji-Hye and Min-Joon stood opposite each other, not daring to start. They felt this oppressive atmosphere, this ominous aura that had enveloped the loft. They felt that they had fallen into a trap from which there was no escape.
— I… I don't want this, — whispered Ji-Hye, looking at Min-Joon.
— Me neither, — he answered. — But it seems we have no choice.
They both understood that Sung-Wook wouldn't let them go just like that. That he craved to see their fight, their blood, their suffering.
— We must be careful, — said Ji-Hye. — He… he's playing with us.
— I know, — Min-Joon nodded. — But we are stronger than him. We can handle it.
They didn't know how wrong they were. They didn't know that the Puppeteer's power was not in physical superiority, but in the ability to manipulate, to pit against each other, to play on weaknesses.
Min-Joon took the first step. He raised his hand, and lightning began to dance between his fingers. Ji-Hye tensed, preparing to attack.
Sung-Wook watched them, holding his breath. His heart beat in unison with the pulsation of the invisible threads. He waited. Waited for them to start killing each other. For rage and pain to burst out, tearing them apart.
Yes, — he thought. — Yes, here it is. It's starting.
The first bolt of lightning, blindingly bright, shot from Min-Joon's hand and rushed towards Ji-Hye. She barely managed to dodge, and the lightning struck the wall, leaving a charred mark.
Ji-Hye responded with a telekinetic attack, throwing a metal chair at Min-Joon. He jumped aside, and the chair, crashing into the wall, shattered into pieces.
The fight had begun. Were the puppeteer's dreams coming true? Was he finally going to see what he so desired?
Min-Joon attacked again and again, unleashing bolts of lightning, but Ji-Hye deftly dodged, using her telekinesis to throw objects away from her.
The loft filled with the crackle of electricity, the ringing of broken glass, the crash of falling objects. The air became electrified, smelling of ozone.
Sung-Wook watched them without taking his eyes off them. His smile became even wider, his eyes burned with an unhealthy fire. He enjoyed every moment of this fight, every blow, every cry.
Yes, yes, that's it! — he whispered. — Kill each other! Tear each other apart!
His desire, his twisted pleasure, fed the invisible threads, making them stronger, denser, more real. They were no longer just vibrating, but pulsating, like living creatures thirsting for blood.
But the fight wasn't going quite as Sung-Wook wanted. Ji-Hye and Min-Joon were fighting, but there was none of that fury, that ruthlessness that he craved to see in their actions. They were clearly holding back, trying not to seriously injure each other.
Weaklings, — thought Sung-Wook with disappointment. — They are too weak.
He expected them to forget about their friendship, their fear, their conscience. He expected the survival instinct to take over, and they would start killing each other, sparing neither strength nor feelings.
But that wasn't happening. Ji-Hye and Min-Joon continued to fight, but there was no hatred in their eyes. Only pain, fear, and… determination. Determination not to give in to the Puppeteer's provocation. Not to become his puppets.
Could it be… — flashed through Sung-Wook's mind. — Could it be that they understood?
This thought burned him like a whip. Had his game been exposed? Had these pathetic, weak humans managed to unravel his plan?
No, that couldn't be. He was the Puppeteer. He was the master of manipulation. He was the one who pulled the strings. They couldn't… they shouldn't…
But doubt, like a poisonous worm, had already crawled into his soul, poisoning the pleasure of the fight, destroying his plans.
I need to… I need to do something, — he thought, feeling the control over the situation slipping from his hands. — I need to push them. Force them to fight for real.
He took a step forward, intending to intervene in the fight, but at that moment something unexpected happened.
Ji-Hye, dodging another of Min-Joon's lightning bolts, stumbled and fell. Min-Joon, not having time to react, released another bolt, which hit her directly.
A piercing scream rang out. Ji-Hye, writhing in pain, fell to the floor. Min-Joon, looking at her in horror, froze in place.
Sung-Wook froze, not believing his eyes. Could it be… could it be that it had happened? Had his wish finally come true?
But the joy he expected to feel didn't come. Instead, a strange emptiness spread through his soul. And… disappointment.
Too easy, — he thought, looking at Ji-Hye lying on the floor. — Too… uninteresting.
He had expected a fierce battle, a fight to the death. He had expected Ji-Hye and Min-Joon to reveal their dark side, to show their true nature.
And instead… an accident. A ridiculous accident that ruined everything.
No, — he whispered, shaking his head. — This is not it. This is not what I wanted.
He walked over to Ji-Hye, who was still lying on the floor, and knelt beside her.
— Are you alright? — he asked, and to his own surprise, he heard… concern in his voice?
Ji-Hye, overcoming the pain, raised her head and looked at him. There was no fear in her eyes. Only… disappointment. And… contempt.
— You… you enjoy this, don't you? — she whispered. — You like watching us suffer.
Her words hit Sung-Wook like a slap in the face. He suddenly realized how disgusting, how pathetic he looked in her eyes.
What am I doing? — flashed through his mind. — What have I become?
He looked away, unable to bear her condemning gaze. For the first time in a long time, he felt… ashamed.
The threads, which had recently been pulsating with his desire, now weakened, drooped, like withered flowers. The aura that had enveloped the loft began to dissipate, giving way to ordinary reality.
— Min-Joon, help her, — said Sung-Wook, getting to his feet. His voice sounded dull, lifeless.
Min-Joon, still not recovered from the shock, ran over to Ji-Hye and helped her up.
— I'm sorry, — he whispered. — I didn't mean to…
— I know, — she answered. — It's not your fault.
Sung-Wook stood aside, watching them. He no longer felt any joy or excitement. Only emptiness. And… disgust at himself.
What's wrong with me? — he thought, looking at his hands, at the invisible threads that now seemed to him not an instrument of power, but shackles binding his soul.
He no longer wanted to play. He no longer wanted to be the Puppeteer. He no longer wanted to cause pain.
— Leave, — he said, not looking at Ji-Hye and Min-Joon. — Leave and forget everything that happened here.
They exchanged glances, not believing their ears.
— But… teacher… — Min-Joon began.
— I said leave! — Sung-Wook cut him off sharply. — That's an order.
Ji-Hye and Min-Joon, without saying another word, left the loft. They left, leaving Sung-Wook alone with his thoughts, with his disappointment, with his… shame.
He stood in the middle of the hall, devastated, crushed, not knowing what to do next. The game he had so carefully planned ended before it even began. And it ended not with the victory of the Puppeteer, but with his defeat.
What now? — he whispered, looking at the empty hall, at the place where the drama he had so desired had just unfolded.
There was no answer. Only silence, broken by the hum of the equipment and his own rapid breathing.
Sung-Wook slowly sank to the floor, leaned his back against the wall, and closed his eyes. For the first time in a long time, he felt not like a puppeteer, but like a human. Weak, vulnerable, lost.
Who am I? — he asked himself. — What do I want?
And, for the first time in a long time, he didn't know the answer.