“Why did you bring the girls along if we’re all going to sleep separately?”
Bobby’s frustrated voice echoed through the cabin.
William, his head cleanly shaved, shot him a sharp look. The flickering candlelight threw shifting shadows across the firm muscles of his arms. Seeing the storm gathering in William’s eyes, Bobby immediately softened his tone and turned to Johan instead.
“Come on, Johan. Back me up here. You feel the same way, don’t you?”
Tall, effortlessly handsome, and as laid-back as ever, Johan lounged on his bunk while casually tossing a lemon into the air.
“What’s bothering you, Bobby? We had a good time today.”
“It’s not about today. Aren’t either of you worried?”
At Bobby’s raised voice, Johan pushed himself up from where he had been sprawled, the thin fabric of his shirt stretching across his muscular chest.
“What exactly are you trying to say, Bobby? Speak clearly so we can understand.”
Bobby quickly averted his gaze from Johan’s sculpted torso and muttered,
“Didn’t Airi’s top mysteriously disappear at the lake today? Who do you think did that? The groundskeeper here is creepy. Doesn’t he seem suspicious to you?”
At the mention of Airi, William’s expression darkened. His already stern face grew even more severe, his thick brows drawing together as he stared Bobby down.
“Bobby, Airi’s top probably fell into the lake. They’ve most likely found it by now.”
Confronted by William’s deep, intimidating voice, Bobby snapped back defensively.
“Yes, I know that! But how does a top just fall into a lake? Airi had it weighed down with a rock. The wind didn’t simply waltz over and sweep it into the water, Willy!”
“William.”
“Huh?”
“It’s William, Bobby.”
Bobby’s face flushed with embarrassment. He wanted to argue, but all he could do was sit there in furious silence.
Then the cabin door rattled beneath a playful knock.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Come in. The door’s open,” Johan called.
The door creaked inward. A sudden gust of wind made the candle flame flicker, and a small, familiar face peeked through the opening with an impish grin.
“Ta-da!”
It was Airi, cheerfully waving a can of beer in each hand. The moment she noticed the tension in the room, however, some of the brightness faded from her expression.
“What’s with the long faces, guys? Especially when I’ve come bearing beer and beauty?”
“Airi, are you going in or not?”
Christina’s impatient voice sounded from behind her.
Airi quickly stepped inside to make room.
Despite its grand designation as a “cabin,” the place was little more than a cramped wooden shack containing two bunk beds. With five people packed inside, the room became almost unbearably crowded.
Airi naturally settled beside William, while Christina squeezed onto the bed where Johan was lying, nudging his large frame aside with mild irritation. Bobby, sensing an opportunity to escape the awkwardness, hurried down from his bunk.
Nestled comfortably against William, Airi began passing around the beers, teasing the boys as she did.
“What’s with all the gloomy faces? Don’t tell me you were planning to call it a night after roasting a few marshmallows. Right, Willy?”
“Airi...”
William’s face remained as impassive as stone, but a blush crept across his cheeks, and it certainly was not caused by the candlelight.
Airi shook her head reproachfully.
“And Bobby, I heard everything from outside. How can you judge someone based on his appearance alone? Did you think I’d ignore those nasty comments you made about his scars? Besides, he’s the one preparing all our meals. Basically, he’s our chef for tomorrow’s breakfast.”
“What chef? Cooking is just part of his job as groundskeeper. I bet he’s terrible at it. Just wait. I’m sure he’ll serve us tasteless oatmeal, burnt toast, and juice that smells like a dirty rag. That’s why I skipped his dinner.”
“Come on, Bobby. Why are you insulting the food before you’ve even tried it? We only turned down dinner because we brought our own barbecue.”
Johan’s reply made Bobby’s nostrils flare.
Christina took a sip of beer, wiped her mouth, and joined in.
“Bobby, are you acting like this because the groundskeeper stopped you from searching for Hannah O’Lantern’s ritual site?”
Christina’s pointed question made Bobby’s face twitch.
“No!”
His denial came quickly, but the panic in his voice gave him away. No one believed him.
Airi gave him a knowing look and laughed.
“Bobby, are you really this upset because you missed out on some creepy alien-summoning ritual?”
“Wh-who said...”
His stammer was met with amused nods and smirks.
Airi giggled, her chestnut curls brushing William’s arm each time she shook her head.
“Oh my God, seriously, Bobby? You’re afraid of clowns, but not aliens?”
“Don’t laugh, Airi! Plenty of people are scared of clowns. And there have been countless UFO sightings. The government just keeps them hidden.”
“Uh... wow. You’re actually serious.”
Airi turned away, caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief.
Johan crushed an empty beer can in one hand and murmured,
“But wasn’t Hannah O’Lantern’s ritual performed sometime in the 1960s? Any trace of that magic circle—or whatever it was—would have disappeared by now.”
“It was 1964, to be exact. And it wasn’t a magic circle. It was a signal circle used to communicate with extraterrestrial beings.”
Bobby corrected him at once.
William, idly winding a strand of Airi’s hair around one finger, offered a blunt observation.
“Maybe you should watch fewer science-fiction shows, Bobby.”
“Will... I mean, William!”
Despite his defiant tone, Bobby did not dare snap at the heavily built William. He was the typical sort of bully who tormented the weak and cowered before the strong.
Instead, he muttered under his breath while rolling a lukewarm beer can between his palms.
“What’s wrong with science-fiction shows? Especially when the remakes almost never do the originals justice...”
“You really are a fanboy beyond compare.”
Airi could only shake her head at Bobby’s sulking.
Christina, amused, joined the banter.
“Why are you so surprised? Considering who my mother is, isn’t it obvious? Just look at me and you’ll have your answer.”
Airi responded to Christina’s lament with a noncommittal smile, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Her gaze shifted toward Johan, who remained lazily sprawled behind Christina.
Airi loved and trusted her boyfriend William more than anyone, but she knew he was a man of few words. Fortunately, though her prayers rarely seemed to reach heaven, they did appear to reach the very much earthbound Johan.
With a casual flick of his fingers, Johan sent the aluminum tab from his beer can sailing toward the candle, instantly drawing everyone’s attention. A faint smile touched his lips.
“By the way, didn’t I see Golden earlier?”
“Golden? You mean one of that trio of freaks—Goldie, Silver, and Brass?”
Christina shuddered with distaste, clearly hoping Johan was mistaken.
He merely nodded, as relaxed as ever.
“Golden is hard to miss in an outfit that flashy.”
“Oh my God. Do you think those guys touched my clothes?”
Airi shivered at the thought.
Her suspicion was not entirely unreasonable. The Gold-Silver-Bronze trio had a dreadful reputation, especially Brass, who was surrounded by an endless stream of scandalous rumors involving women.
“Hmm.”
William moistened his lower lip and pulled Airi closer. Unlike earlier, she was now wearing a longer shirt.
“You’re safe with me, Airi. Always.”
“Willy...”
Scowling, Christina handed another beer to Johan.
“From now on, no more double dates when we hang out. Those two are completely lost in their own little world.”
For the briefest moment, Johan’s expression changed.
No one noticed.
His face was turned toward the cabin wall, hidden within the shadow of the bunk.
“Phew...”
The candle’s warm glow cast a reddish sheen across Christina’s blonde hair.
She glanced toward the cabin’s small window. Beyond the glass, the darkness revealed little more than the vague outlines of trees.
One thing was certain, however.
The rain still had not come.
Imagining a clear sky overhead, Christina allowed the tension to drain from her body.
“Airi, why did you give up stargazing with Willy to come here? You wouldn’t stop talking about having a date by the lake. Still, considering the circumstances, I’m glad you changed your mind.”
“Am I?”
There was a trace of sarcasm in Airi’s reply, leaving William faintly puzzled.
Airi clicked her tongue in mock disapproval and wagged a finger.
“Oh, innocent Christina Maria. You have no idea what horrors lurk beneath those murky lake waters, do you?”
“I don’t know. Some man-eating monster? Though... it was probably just Golden.”
A delicate flush spread across Christina’s cheeks, likely from the beer. Her freckles, especially the cluster on her right cheek, stood out clearly.
At Christina’s answer, Airi snuggled closer to William and whispered,
“No. No, something worse. That lake has...”
“What does the lake have?”
Bobby swallowed and leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Airi’s lips.
Although her makeup had become slightly smudged over the course of the day, the candlelight emphasized the soft curve of her mouth.
Slowly, her lips parted.
“Bloodthirsty mosquitoes!”
Airi’s anticlimactic revelation left everyone visibly deflated.
Even Christina laughed.
“What was that supposed to be?”
“You don’t understand. How are you supposed to create a romantic atmosphere when mosquitoes are constantly attacking you? Swimming earlier was much more enjoyable. Now it’s unbearable. Right, Willy?”
“Anywhere is perfect as long as I’m with you.”
“Willy...”
Watching the two lovers exchange sweet nothings, Christina rolled her eyes.
“Again? Seriously?”
After Christina and Airi returned to their own cabin, Johan, William, and Bobby eventually settled in for the night.
The cramped room was filled with the scent of melted wax and the strangely sweet, yeasty aroma of beer. For some reason, the mixture stirred something restless in Bobby’s chest.
He tossed and turned for a while before finally opening his eyes, unable to sleep.
In 1964, Hannah O’Lantern claimed to have received a message from an extraterrestrial being before tragically taking her own life at this very campsite.
She, her boyfriend, and their three friends—five vibrant young people in all—had died there.
Their deaths caused a nationwide sensation.
The mysterious circumstances were disturbing enough, but the horrifying mutilation of their bodies made the case almost impossible to comprehend.
Hannah O’Lantern and her companions had been discovered in grotesque conditions.
Some had been completely desiccated, drained of moisture like rags twisted dry.
Others had been torn in half, their skulls shattered.
Some had suffered crushed and partially melted knees and shinbones, leaving their lower legs twisted into hideous shapes.
Others had been found with their abdomens ripped open and their entrails brutally removed.
The scene had been horrifying beyond description.
The only identifiable traces of the attacker were bite marks left on the bodies.
Yet those marks did not match the teeth of any known animal.
Because of that, some people speculated that the victims had killed one another.
Despite the public’s suspicions, however, the police announced that the autopsies had established drug-induced suicide as the undeniable cause of death for Hannah O’Lantern and her friends.
Naturally, many refused to believe the official explanation.
Conspiracy theories spread rapidly, and Hannah’s story became an object of national fascination.
Most people ignored the details of Hannah’s life, but Bobby had painstakingly collected every essay, sketch, and biographical account she had left behind.
To him, Hannah was a kindred spirit.
Her remarkable artistic talent had also inspired countless admirers.
And somewhere within this campground lay the record of the interstellar communication she had supposedly received.
How incredible was that?
Bobby’s eyes gleamed as William’s thunderous snoring filled the cabin.
The darkness outside was so complete that not even a trace of starlight entered through the window, and that only heightened his excitement.
Carefully, Bobby climbed down the ladder without making a sound.
William continued snoring, while Johan remained sprawled in an awkward sleeping position. Neither showed any sign of waking.
Bobby retrieved a map and lantern from his bag, clutching them tightly to his chest as he crept toward the door.
The rusted hinges groaned when he opened it, the sound slicing through the silence.
No one called out to stop him.
Bobby grinned and quickened his pace.
Once outside, he lit the lantern and unfolded the map.
Three locations had been marked with thick red circles: the main facilities, the lake, and the winding forest trails.
Those were the places where Hannah was most likely to have attempted her interstellar communication.
His first destination was the forest beside the lake, not far from the cabin.
Rumors claimed that earlier investigators had found clues there while trying to unravel Hannah’s mystery.
At the time, police barricades and resistance from the campsite owner had prevented anyone from entering the area directly. Any supposed evidence had circulated only through unverified stories.
But as the years passed, public interest in Hannah O’Lantern faded.
Now Bobby could explore the Hamon Campground without interference.
The campground had gone by another name when Hannah’s tragedy occurred, but its purpose as a retreat for nature lovers had remained unchanged.
For Bobby, that was an unexpected stroke of luck.
Guided by the lantern, Bobby moved deeper into the trees and chuckled to himself.
There was something amusingly appropriate about searching for traces left by O’Lantern while carrying a lantern of his own.
His earlier fear of encountering the Golden trio had already faded.
Filled with confidence, he ventured deeper into the forest.
“Hah... hah...”
The forest had turned cold after sunset.
Even so, perhaps because of his excitement, beads of sweat gathered across Bobby’s forehead.
He bent down and pressed his fingers against the earth.
“Ah!”
His cry rang through the silent forest.
The scattered information he had gathered had been astonishingly accurate.
Placing the lantern and map on the ground, Bobby began brushing aside the dirt that concealed something beneath it.
Little by little, a flat stone emerged.
Carved into its surface was Hannah O’Lantern’s unmistakably erratic handwriting.
Joy and sweat covered Bobby’s face.
It was real.
There could be no doubt.
A triumphant smile spread across his lips.
Discovering this would make him famous.
It might even transform him into a man worthy of Christina.
“Everyone ignores me now, but they’ll see. I used to be a model, you know. I bet even Phillip Lee will send me a friend request once this gets out.”
Though his modeling career had been brief, Bobby had long since buried that inconvenient fact in the back of his mind.
“When I reveal this on the show, I’ll be the only man worthy of Christina in ‘Wraithwood.’ Johan may be a ‘Rompelschtizen baby,’ but I’m about to rise straight to the top.”
Greed glittered in Bobby’s eyes.
He shone the lantern across Hannah’s gravestone and began digging feverishly with his bare hands.
Dirt packed itself beneath his fingernails, but he did not care.
To Bobby, the stone was more than a discovery.
It was the first step toward elevating his social standing.
Then a filthy sneaker came down on top of the gravestone.
The shoe was worn and stained, as though its owner had spent hours trekking through the forest.
What was it doing on something so precious?
Furious, Bobby lifted the lantern.
“Who’s there?!”
Something struck the ground with a dull thud.
Instinctively, Bobby looked down.
“Uh...”
His mouth fell open.
A vivid red stain was spreading across the stone.
Blood seeped into the carved grooves of Hannah’s gravestone, tracing the engraved lines.
“Uh....”
Slowly, reluctantly, Bobby raised his head.
His lower lip trembled.
He did not want to look.
Yet some terrible force seemed to compel him.
Blood dripped from the blade of an axe.
The figure standing over him was paler than a cheap wax doll.
Bobby recognized that unnaturally white face.
Glossy black hair fell around it like a raven’s wings, framing delicate features made deeply unsettling by their complete lack of expression.
His cloudy, distant eyes usually seemed fixed on something no one else could see.
Now Seojun was staring directly at him.
Another drop of blood slid from the axe.
Vertigo swept over Bobby.
Barely managing to remain conscious, he put his vocal cords to greater use than he ever had before.
His scream tore through the campground.
“A murderer! There’s a murderer here!”