Chapter 2: The Day It All Fell Apart

I should’ve asked more questions.

I should have.

I knew something was wrong.

I saw the signs, felt the shift in her mood, watched her retreat further and further into that tiny glowing screen like it was the only window she had left in a house full of locked doors.

And I let it happen.

No—worse.

I saw it happen.

And I did nothing.

“Fucking idiot…”

The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. 

Quiet. 

Bitter. 

Like biting down on glass just to feel something.

I curse myself, again and again, as the memory resurfaces.

That day didn’t come out of nowhere.

It was built.

Layer by layer.

Stone by stone.

And I helped lay the foundation.

I could tell myself I didn’t know.

That I wasn’t aware.

That I couldn’t have predicted it.

But that would be a lie.

Because I did know.

Not everything.

Not the whole picture.

But enough.

Enough to stop it.

Enough to try.

And I didn’t.

***

It started with her needing an escape.

My sister was always the perfect one.

The golden child.

The backup heir to the family name after their first project, me, crashed and burned.

And when our parents turned their full attention on her, it wasn’t love.

It was pressure.

Pure, sharp, suffocating pressure.

Like living under a microscope that burned instead of magnified.

They dictated everything.

When to sleep.

When to study.

What to eat.

Who to talk to.

What to be.

Their expectations weren’t rules.

They were chains.

So she found her own way out.

She found… them.

***

An online group chat. 

A private server. 

A fandom space hidden behind a cutesy username and a string of emotes.

It was about the game. 

The game.

The one I’m in now.

A visual novel she adored. Magical academy. 

Twisted romance. 

Pretty boys with dark secrets and girls who hid daggers behind their smiles. 

I thought it was dumb. 

Cliché. 

Something to roll my eyes at while she fangirled.

But to her?

It was freedom.

It was a color in a world that only let her wear grey.

And the people in that chat?

They were the only ones who let her be herself.

Or so she thought.

***

I found out about it one night when I passed by her room and heard her talking.

Quietly.

Laughing under her breath, the kind of laugh I hadn’t heard in months.

I knocked.

Asked who she was talking to.

She panicked a little, but then smiled.

Said it was a group chat about her favorite game.

I remember teasing her.

“Damn, you’re really turning into one of those hardcore fans, huh?”

She grinned sheepishly.

“It’s fun. We just talk about the characters and story. Sometimes we write theories and… I dunno. It makes school feel less heavy.”

I nodded.

Told her to enjoy it.

Told her to have fun.

That was it.

That was all I said.

And then I walked away.

***

‘You fucking moron.’

I should’ve asked more.

Pressed further.

Who was in that chat?

How did she find them?

What kind of people were they?

I should’ve checked.

I could have checked.

Our parents?

They were clueless.

They didn’t even know what Discord was.

To them, “online chat” meant email.

Maybe a school app.

But I knew.

I was the one who lived online.

Who survived in digital spaces.

I knew how fast things got dark, how easy it was for filth to blend in and pretend to care.

And I still didn’t look.

She trusted me with that piece of her world, and I… brushed it off like it didn’t matter.

Let that creep inch closer with every message, every late night, every secret she shared in a space she thought was safe.

I had a hundred chances to ask.

A hundred red flags I chose not to see.

And then that day came.

And it was already too late.

***

It was a Thursday night.

I remember because the Wi-Fi kept cutting out, and I was in the middle of reviewing some knockoff Bluetooth speaker for a company that spelled “technology” with an extra k.

I was already pissed.

Then she knocked.

Softly.

Three times.

Like always.

“Oppa… are you awake?”

I took off my headphones and turned toward the door.

There was something off about her voice.

Too small.

Too careful.

I got up, opened the door— And there she was.

Eyes red.

Shoulders trembling.

Clutching her phone like it had claws.

She didn’t even try to pretend.

Didn’t smile.

Didn’t joke.

She just walked in, sat on my bed, and stared at the floor.

“…Areum?”

“I didn’t know who else to tell.”

That’s when I knew.

Something was wrong.

Really wrong.

She told me everything.

How a guy in the fandom chat started talking to her. 

At first, he was just… nice. 

Supportive. 

Too supportive.

Always complimenting her theories, reacting to everything she said. 

DMing her late at night about the game, then slowly shifting the conversation. 

Pushing personal questions, asking for photos, getting angry when she didn’t reply right away.

She thought she was overreacting.

Told herself it was probably just someone lonely.

That maybe she was misunderstanding things.

But it got worse.

He made fake accounts when she blocked him.

Started DMing her friends.

Threatened to leak things she had said in private.

Said he would tell her parents she was in an adult server if she didn’t keep talking to him.

She was terrified.

“I didn’t mean to… I just… I thought it was just a game server, oppa…”

“I didn’t think— I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She started crying.

And I just stood there.

Frozen.

Dumb.

Useless.

Until the anger kicked in.

“Are you out of your mind? Joining random chats like that? Talking to strangers?”

“You know how dangerous that is, Areum! What if he was someone worse?! What if he—?!”

I stopped myself before I could yell.

Her shoulders were already shaking.

I sat down beside her.

Pulled her into a hug.

She clung to me like she was trying to disappear into my chest.

“I’m sorry, oppa… I didn’t want to make things worse.”

God.

She looked so small then.

So fragile.

And I…

I told her it would be okay.

That I would take care of it.

I grabbed her phone.

Blocked the guy.

Reported every account.

Wiped the app.

Deleted everything.

I went through every folder, every saved image, every cache.

Made sure nothing was left.

I remember the look in her eyes.

Relief.

Guilt.

Shame.

All fighting for space.

And I told her…

“Don’t worry, okay? He’s gone.”

“You’re safe now.”

“Just… be more careful next time.”

I told her not to worry.

I told her she would be fine.

I told her it was over.

***

“Goddammit…”

I bite down on my knuckle and taste iron.

I should’ve dug deeper.

Should’ve traced his IP.

Should’ve found out who he was.

But I didn’t.

I deleted a few files and thought I had won.

Like a kid slapping duct tape over a crack in the dam and calling it fixed.

I didn’t know the monster was already inside.

And I told her she was safe.

I lied to her.

I didn’t mean to.

But I lied.

And she believed me.

Until that dreaded night finally came. 

It happened on a night like any other.

Our parents were out.

Some corporate party.

Or a networking party.

Or maybe a wine-tasting circle jerk with other equally self-important people.

I don’t even remember what the excuse was.

They didn’t care.

Not about us.

Not about her.

They just left.

Left her.

With him already watching.

***

I was in my room.

Headphones on.

Eyes heavy.

I hadn’t slept properly in days, maybe weeks.

I told myself I would rest just for a bit.

Just for a minute.

And then I heard it.

The scream.

High-pitched. 

Cracked. 

Raw with panic.

“OPPA!!”

My eyes snapped open before my brain even caught up.

My heart? 

It detonated.

I was out of the room in seconds.

The hallway lights flickered.

Her door was open.

And inside—

I saw him.

A man.

Tall. 

Shadowed. 

Reeking of something rotten.

Standing over her.

And my sister.

She was on the floor, her arm dripping red.

Blood smeared across her desk. 

She looked at me with wide, terrified eyes.

“Oppa—help…!”

***

Something in me snapped.

I don’t remember thinking.

I just moved.

I charged.

Tackled him so hard we both hit the bookshelf.

Hardcovers and plastic cases rained down on us like hail.

We crashed to the floor, fists already flying.

I screamed at her.

“CALL THE POLICE! NOW!!”

I don’t know how I wasn’t dead in the first few seconds.

Every swing he made was wild, erratic—like he wasn’t trying to fight, just to hurt.

I got slashed across the shoulder. 

The ribs. 

My left forearm.

Blood soaked into my hoodie.

But I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t stop.

I had to hold this monster down, keep it away from her. 

We thrashed around like animals.

He grabbed my hair, slammed my head against the wall.

My vision blurred.

My ears rang.

My nose broke.

I could feel it; this sickening pop followed by warm, wet pain flooding my mouth.

But I didn’t let go.

Fear came in surges each time I saw his knife glisten, yet something in me override that fear. 

I knew I could die, that I would die. 

It was simply a matter of time. 

My cuts weren’t deep, but they did bleed. 

I knew I had to make each moment count. 

So I punched. 

I clawed.

He responded with his own blows, each racking my body with types of pain I had never experienced. 

But I didn’t stop punching.

I didn’t stop clawing.

Kicking.

Screaming.

***

Five minutes.

That’s how long it lasted, maybe.

But in my head?

It felt like hours.

I could still hear my sister crying somewhere behind me.

The world narrowed to him.

To stopping him.

To ending this.

We crashed into the living room.

Furniture splintered. 

Lamps shattered.

Rugs painted red by a mixture of both of our bloods.

And then—

We stumbled out onto the balcony.

The seventh floor.

The wind hit us like a wave.

It roared between the buildings, tugging at my torn clothes and blood-soaked sleeves.

I could see my sister in the broken remains of the living room, her bleeding arm clutched in her other hand. 

I knew that asshole also saw her. 

His face said it all. 

He could tell I wouldn’t last much longer now.

That fucking smile on his face. 

So assured that he would get what he wanted. 

I wanted to yell at her to run. 

But my jaw had been clenched shut for so long I couldn’t feel it anymore.

So I struggled. 

I grabbed. 

Pulled. 

Pushed. 

Locked arms and stumbled, each of us trying to throw the other off balance.

And then. 

Pain.

White-hot, blinding pain.

Different from the slashes.

Different from the broken nose and teeth. 

My grip on him loosened momentarily. 

I staggered.

Looked down.

There it was.

A knife.

Buried deep in my side.

Right under the ribs. 

Near the kidney.

My body went cold.

But his face—

He smiled.

That fucking smile.

Like he had already won.

Like this was just a game to him.

And maybe he would have won.

Should have. 

***

But I wasn’t done.

Not yet.

One last breath.

One last trick.

I grabbed his wrist with both hands.

Locked my fingers.

A kick to his knee with all I had. 

And threw my weight forward.

“You are not getting away…”

We went over together.

The railing vanished beneath us.

The last I saw of my sister was her running towards us. 

Gravity swallowed us whole.

Seven floors of nothing.

Just wind. 

And falling. 

And silence.

And then. 

Darkness.

I opened my eyes for the last time. 

My limbs were all bent in ways I can’t describe. 

I lifted my head, only to feel a chunk of it missing. 

My vision began to blur once again. 

But there he was, trying to squirm away from me like a half squashed worm. 

Like hell. 

I wasn’t going to let that happen. 

I lifted whatever remained of the limb I once called an arm and brought it down onto his face. 

***

Author’s Note:

Hello Hello ( ^_^)／

This was a bit of a tense one. There’s some violence, and I decided to use shorter lines. I was trying to make it feel fast and urgent, like you are right there in the moment and can feel the quick-time event thoughts going through the MC mind.

But if it came off weird or hard to follow I am really sorry. （´＿｀）

Thank you for reading!