The suspect strolled out of the convenience store, carrying a bag in his hand.
Dark red blood dripped steadily from it, leaving a trail behind him…
I panicked and quickly turned off the TV, then locked every door and window in the restaurant before I could finally breathe again. But the sick, terrified feeling lingered.
Without thinking, my mind flashed back to the place where I had taken shelter from the rain that morning. I reached behind my lower back with my hand—and when I looked at my palm, there was a faint, yellow-brown streak of dried blood.
I checked over and over in the mirror, comparing it closely again and again, until I was sure: the stain on my clothes was from when I was huddled under that eave—from when I'd been poked.
Realizing that sent a chill straight through my bones. We were all packed so tightly in that cramped space, leaning on each other, strangers in the same storm… Who would have guessed that a brutal murderer was standing silently right next to me?
As much as I wanted to believe this was just my imagination running wild, I figured it would be better to say something—for the safety of others, if not for my own peace of mind. I picked up the phone to call the police.
That's when I caught a glimpse of something across the street.
He stood there in the rain, one hand holding an umbrella, the other carrying a bag.
The zipper on the bag was still wide open.
Rain had soaked the contents inside, and a faint trickle of blood was running down the side of his pants.
My hand slowly dropped the phone. Even though his eyes were hidden beneath his hat, I could feel his stare burning into me.
I didn't dare move. I didn't dare look away. I had to keep track of where he was.
I don't know how much time passed, but then the rain suddenly intensified. His figure started to blur.
The sky darkened in an instant, and just like that—I couldn't see him anymore.
... ...
Looking back, my mental state at that moment could only be described as feral. They say extreme fear can transform into rage, and after a wave of violent shivering, my body started to heat up.
If he dared to come inside… I wasn't going to let him walk out!!!
I rushed into the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife I could find. Then, I smashed more than a dozen glass cups around me, creating a kind of defensive barrier. After that, I turned off the lights and curled up on the ground, waiting in the dark like a predator.
Before long, I heard faint, shuffling noises at the front door. I was ready. For someone like him, picking a locked door wouldn't be a problem.
Kagu... Kagu...When rainwater seeps into your shoes, it makes that sound as you walk.Kagu... Kagu...
He stepped into the shop, one slow footfall at a time, completely ignoring the shards of broken glass scattered across the floor. Behind the bar, I crouched lower, gripping the knife tightly in my hand.
Kagu... Kagu... Ka...He stopped directly in front of me.
It was too quiet. I couldn't even hear him breathing.
Kagu…
"I want a glass of water."
"Eh?!"My throat tightened suddenly, and a sharp, startled sound slipped out.
It was her?!
"I want a glass of water…" the girl repeated.
Timidly, I peeked my head out from behind the bar. After confirming she was alone, I slowly got up from the floor.
She sat at the bar just like always, dripping wet from head to toe.
I turned on the light and poured her a glass of water, then stood there in a daze. After such intense tension and terror, both my emotions and my thoughts had gone numb.
I pretended I was already dead—maybe that way, fear and doubt couldn't touch me anymore.
But now... who was the predator?
I didn't look directly at the girl, but I couldn't help noticing her teeth.
Teeth that had grown overnight?!No—more like implanted would be the better word.
Mismatched in size and shape, as if taken from different people's mouths, the teeth were jammed haphazardly into her upper gums—some reversed, some crooked—buried in a mouth full of bloody, fleshy sludge. Only her upper teeth were there so far.
Rainwater was flowing in through the open front door. A light bulb flickered a few times, then went out with a pop.
The girl pulled a cash bill from her pocket and placed it on the bar. Then she stood up and walked out.
It had a cartoonishly drawn turtle with an oversized head on it.
VIVI!!!
That name jolted me back to my last shred of reason.
"Wait! Where is Vivi?!"
I ran across the shattered glass, chasing after the girl. Her small figure wavered unsteadily in the torrential downpour.
"Where did you take her?"
But the rain drowned out my voice completely.
"Stop!"
"Wait!..."
The storm blurred my vision, my head spinning as I lost my sense of direction.
By the time I snapped back to reality, the girl was already gone.
I stood alone in the middle of the street, watching the rainwater surge into the storm drain, disappearing beneath the metal grate.
**********
I didn't go home that night.
I stayed in the restaurant until dawn.
Partly because I was afraid the killer was still lurking nearby, watching me. Walking home alone in the dead of night would be like offering myself up on a platter like a piece of meat. And partly because the restaurant was a complete mess—I needed to clean up.
The broken glass wasn't as much of a problem as I had expected. But the water... the water was a nightmare. Puddles had formed all over the floor, some of it even seeping down into the basement.
After I finished cleaning, I felt calmer. That's when I picked up the phone and dialed the old policeman's number.
About ten minutes later, he arrived at the restaurant, accompanied by a younger officer. And they brought good news.
The killer had been caught.
Just two hours ago, someone on a long-distance bus had recognized him.
"Turn on the TV," the younger officer said.
I did as he suggested, and sure enough, the news was on repeat, broadcasting the arrest.
"He was so young," the old policeman murmured, shaking his head. "By all accounts, a quiet, well-mannered man. No one knows what made him do something like this."
"I'm guessing... it's because of the rain."
"What rain?"
"Mau, don't you think there's something wrong with this rain? It won't stop, and ever since it started, all these cases have been happening... What if there's something behind it?"
The old policeman's expression darkened, and he snapped angrily, "Sam, stop talking nonsense! A police officer shouldn't be spreading superstitions! If we start blaming ghosts and monsters… then everyone becomes innocent. What use would the law have then?"
"I was just joking," the young officer named Sam said with a sheepish grin.
"That kind of joke isn't appropriate!" the older officer snapped. "You've studied criminal psychology. You should know better. Many perpetrators of crimes of passion don't show impulsive behavior in their daily lives. Just like the killer in this case—quiet, well-behaved. But people like that often have antisocial personality traits. For them, losing self-control doesn't matter; that's why they can hurt others so brutally, without an ounce of guilt… If even you think this way, imagine how many more people might start using this rain as an excuse to stir up trouble!"
Was that really all there was to it?I remained silent, not quite convinced, as I listened to the two of them talk.
"Officers, is there any update on Vivi's case?"
"We tracked her phone and investigated the storm drain entrance, but so far, we haven't found anything conclusive," the older officer replied. As he spoke, he handed me a card. "If you remember anything that could be a clue, don't hesitate to call. Samuel and I are in charge of this case."
I looked down at the name printed on the card—Maurice
People should take responsibility...After hesitating for a moment, I finally told them about the girl.
From the first time I saw her up to last night, I shared the events and my suspicions. I was careful with my words, only describing details that could potentially serve as evidence. Still, when I mentioned that the girl had no teeth, both officers furrowed their brows deeply.
The reality was far more bizarre than what I told them.
I could recall every strange moment vividly, but police work doesn't deal in the paranormal. They didn't need to know that the girl now had upper teeth. They didn't need to know that others—seemingly unrelated—were starting to feel their teeth loosen, their flesh separating from bone, all seemingly connected to her.
"With just that doodled money, we don't have enough to go on," Officer Maurice sighed.
"Here's what we'll do—tomorrow Sam will pick you up and bring you to the station. We'll go over everything in detail, step by step, and see if we missed anything."
I agreed. Since I was the only one manning the restaurant now, I'd need to inform Larry first.
The rest of the day, I called him over and over, but he didn't answer—not even once.
This had never happened before. But then again, a lot of things have been happening for the first time lately, so I didn't dwell on it too much.
My body was worn out after a night of constant tension. Before the sky even turned dark, I shut the restaurant early.
After taking the meds, I fell into a deep sleep until midnight. When I woke up, my mouth was dry, and my body drenched in cold sweat.
I made myself a cup of hot tea. As I watched the steam swirl into the air, the events of the previous day felt like a nightmare dissipating in the morning chill—fading, bit by bit.
Humans are forgetful creatures. Unless fear is carved into our genes through generations, no matter how intense an emotion is, it always comes and goes.
And yet, at that moment, I suddenly noticed something—
The glass of water on my nightstand... at some point, it had turned into a filthy, sediment-filled liquid, the color of blood.