a space to write descriptive headcanons and kick start seohyang’s muse should it ever hide from the mun.

31st july 1868

<aside> ⛔ trigger warning: death, blood. this is the descriptive text of the event where seohyang had found the body of the jungin lady, a friend, and told in her perspective.

</aside>

“papa, wait,” she gasped, tugging on her father’s hanbok sleeve.

they halted in the midst of people brushing past them as seohyang began to rummage the bag, slung over her shoulder. she frowned as she took out a book with a velvet cover, an item she was meant to give back to its owner, lady chae saebyeok, tonight. the girl had been too excited to spend time and walk around the promenade and peruse the market with lady chae, a good friend of hers introduced through their families’ business connections, to remember

“i need to give this back to saebyeok-eonnie,” she sighed, glancing back over her shoulder.

her father, too, turned to look back the way they had come after parting with the lady. “can it not wait another day, hyang-a? she seems a little too far off to catch up now-”

seohyang spotted her, rounding a corner to the direction of the lady’s way home. “it’s okay, i’m fast enough!” she grinned, inching away from her father step by step. “wait here, papa. i’ll be right back!” the twenty-three years old promised before disappearing into the crowd.

her dainty form weaved through the crowd, her lips busy apologizing to nobleman and fellow commoners when she bumped her shoulders into them. as the crowd thinned, her steps moved quicker and she rounded the same corner lady chae entered. the young physician’s assistant halted in the mouth of the dim alleyway.

the lack of light told her to turn around. the cold air, despite the summer heat, urgently whispered run. the silence. . .compared to the chatters of the market behind her screamed danger ahead! seohyang continued to walk, however, gripping lady chae’s book to her chest. the hairs of her skin stood as she entered the eerily silent area further and a gnawing sense of fear mixed with worry feeding her heart.

sounds of dragging feet caused her to halt. “lady chae?” seohyang called out softly.

she silently searched for the lady, away from the path she (and lady chae) should have gone to. the shuffling sounds got louder as she neared abandoned market stalls and spotted a shoe a distance away, leading to a forest. “la-” seohyang stopped herself from calling out saebyeok’s name again as a shadow of a man loomed over the shoe.

hide and don’t come out.

the girl winced as snippets of scenes flashed by her head at the imaginary voice. head fuzzing, she followed the voice’s instructions, hiding behind crates that stood against the abandoned stall. she gasped when she turned to the stall’s broken wall, wood chipped and broken, and seeing a glimpse of saebyeok’s body motionless on the ground. seohyang was quick to close her eyes as in quick movement, a figure loomed over the older’s body and. . .a sickening sound of skin ripping filled the night.

hide and don’t come out, unless i tell you to.

seohyang closed her ears and eyes altogether, as more voices and images began to flood. fear gripped her in double fold as she entered the images of her nightmare. stuck in a dark shed, flames roaring and its glow seeping through the miniscule space between the wooden planks that made up the room. sounds of scuffles outside before a weight settled on the door. pool of blood seeping into her straw shoes—let met out, let me out, let me out. her chest ached, panic began to surge and. . .

miss im. a deep and gentle voice entered, along with a sense of being protected—a feeling of strong arm around her shoulder.

it was for a second, but it was enough to trigger her to break from her reverie. flashes of her nightmares faded away as she began to get a grasp of the present. she noticed the absence of the man and, not bothering to double check her surroundings, hurriedly scuffled towards saebyeok.

saebyeok’s own pool of blood beckoned the flashes of nightmare to visit once more, but seohyang shook her head furiously, begging to let her tend to her wounded friend. tears gathered as she fumbled for a handkerchief. “eo-eonnie.”

seohyang groaned, hands shaking as she tried to stop blood gushing through the wound on saebyeok’s neck. she’s gone, the logical side of her announced. yet her disbelief blocked it away. “n-no, no, no. please, eonnie,” she rasped. how many more times does she have to send away people she loves infront of her very eyes? how many more? seohyang pressed on the wound, a desperate whine left her quivering lips, “please, please, please.”