The First to Vanish

Ji-won didn’t sleep.

Even after the eyes faded from the window, their glow lingered in her mind like afterimages burned into her vision. She lay stiff in bed, clutching her blanket as if it could shield her. Soo-min, restless on the other side of the room, turned over again and again, whispering, “It wasn’t real… it wasn’t real…” though her trembling voice betrayed her disbelief.

By morning, the dark circles under both their eyes told the truth.

---

The day began as if nothing had happened. Students shuffled to classes, groaning about early lectures, yawning, passing notes. The teachers droned on about mathematics and literature, their voices dull against the pounding storm in Ji-won’s head.

She kept glancing at the windows, half-expecting to see those glowing eyes pressed against the glass even in daylight.

But the day passed quietly—until the evening study period.

---

The library smelled of paper and dust. The tall windows let in only faint light, the rest swallowed by shadows between the shelves. Ji-won sat with Soo-min, their books spread open but unread. Across the table sat Oh Na-ri, the artistic girl with the soft voice, sketching absentmindedly in her notebook.

“Do you think it’ll come back tonight?” Soo-min whispered.

Ji-won stiffened. “Don’t.”

“But—”

“I said don’t.”

The weight of her voice silenced them both.

Na-ri looked up, her eyes wide. “Come back?” she echoed, confused.

Before Ji-won could answer, a loud thud echoed from somewhere deep in the library. Everyone froze. Heads turned.

Silence.

Then another thud, followed by a faint dragging sound.

Students exchanged nervous glances. The supervising teacher snapped, “Return to your studies,” but her voice trembled.

Ji-won’s skin prickled. She wanted to leave, but her body wouldn’t move.

A scream tore through the silence.

It came from the far side of the library, near the back shelves.

Chairs scraped. Books fell. Students stumbled over one another in panic. Ji-won forced her way through the crowd, Soo-min clinging to her arm.

When they reached the back, a small group had already gathered. A boy—Hwang Ji-hoon, arrogant and sharp-tongued—stood pointing at the floor, his face pale.

Ji-won followed his gaze.

A bag lay abandoned on the ground. Pages from an open notebook fluttered in the breeze from a cracked window.

But its owner—Song Mi-rae—was gone.

“She was right here!” Ji-hoon shouted, his voice cracking. “I was sitting next to her! She—she just—”

His words broke off into ragged breaths.

The teacher barked orders, ushering the students back, demanding calm, but her own hands shook as she slammed the window shut.

Ji-won’s stomach churned. She clearly remembered Mi-rae’s face. Just hours ago at lunch, she’d been laughing nervously about the rumors, swearing she believed every word. The Eyes are a curse, she’d whispered. They’re watching.

And now she is gone.

---

The school tried to cover it up. At dinner, the teachers claimed Mi-rae had “left early due to family matters.” But the students weren’t fools.

“She didn’t even take her bag,” someone muttered.

“No one leaves in the middle of the term,” another whispered.

The cafeteria buzzed with tension, every voice low, every glance darting toward the windows. Ji-won and Soo-min sat in silence, their food untouched.

Finally, Soo-min whispered, “Ji-won… you don’t think—”

Ji-won’s fork clattered against her plate. “Stop.”

But she couldn’t stop the thought of herself.

Mi-rae had vanished. Just like the rumor said. Just like the legends Jae-hwan had warned them about.

And Ji-won had seen the Eyes.

Her chest tightened until she could hardly breathe.

Was she next?

---

That night, the dormitory was tense and restless. Whispers slithered through the hallways, students daring each other to say the word they all feared.

The Eyes.

Ji-won sat by the window, staring into the dark forest. Soo-min sat close beside her, their shoulders touching, as if afraid to separate.

“Ji-won,” Soo-min whispered, “what if we’re marked?”

Ji-won’s throat went dry. She thought of the glowing eyes, the tap at the glass, the way they had stared at her with an intelligence that felt alive.

She thought of Mi-rae’s abandoned bag, her unfinished notebook.

Finally, she whispered back, “Then we don’t have much time.”

And outside, deep in the trees, two faint lights flickered.

Watching.

Waiting.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***