The Headless Rat

Childhood memories are less like perfectly developed photographs and more like old film, stained and worn thin in places. For Gaon, her childhood felt like Baekam Island on a night thick with fog. When the fog hung heavy over the island, even objects right in front of you often vanished from sight. On days like that, even the island’s residents found it hard to venture outside.

Some memories were so vivid she could still recall her parents’ expressions, the cadence of their voices, the temperature of that day, even the smells—yet the memory in the very next frame was often gone without a trace, as if someone had snipped it clean away with scissors. What exactly filled those holes in her memory? Whenever Gaon peered into those pitch-black blanks, an inexplicable chill would prickle over her skin.

Gayoung, four years old…

Especially the memories from when Gaon first came to Baekam Island holding Gayoung’s hand refused to come clear no matter how hard she tried to summon them. Perhaps her parents’ deaths had been enough of a shock that her young heart had deliberately tried to forget.

I definitely started my period for the first time then, too. Kim Ju-yeon would have gotten me pads.

Gaon had begun menstruating late. Seventeen. The age when she would have been a high-school freshman if she had lived on the mainland. A little over six years ago. Back then, Ju-yeon had still been at this mansion.

Then who took care of us before that? Think carefully.

All morning Gaon wrestled with the question, clutching her head. Eventually she stopped wandering through the fog.

Instead, that afternoon she went out to the garden warehouse. Everything from their childhood on the island had been piled away there. Past the servants’ quarters, down in a remote corner of the garden, stood a container shed where unused old goods and miscellaneous junk were stored. Even though Lee Yong-hoon kept it up diligently, the rain had left weeds growing thick around the container.

The warehouse door was unlocked. When she turned the rusted iron handle it opened with a metallic creak—.

Inside, the air was cool. Unlike the bright outdoors, it was dim as a forest. Unused furniture stood draped in cloth; junk of every kind and her uncle’s taxidermy lay tangled together. Dusty birds and badgers, neglected wild-animal mounts, gave the place a gloomy air. Unlike the pieces displayed in the mansion, these were B-grade specimens her uncle held in contempt.

If you’re just going to stash them away like this, why bother making them…

Baek Jeong-hak’s collecting habit was pathological. Every animal he hunted, every trace of his own doings, anything with even the slightest meaning—he had to gather and store every record without fail before he could rest. It would not have been an exaggeration to say that more than seventy percent of the items in this warehouse belonged to Uncle Baek Jeong-hak. To Gaon it looked like a blend of narcissism, exhibitionism, and outright compulsion.

Uncle needs treatment too.

Though a man that proud would never admit it. Respectable pieces he would display proudly on the mainland; gloomy things like wild-animal taxidermy he simply dumped in the Baekam Island Mansion. That was the part Gaon disliked most whenever she thought of him.

Where do I even start looking…

What Gaon sought was her childhood diary. After brooding all morning, the single memory she had managed to dredge up was the diary she had kept when she first entered this mansion. A yellow cover, the slender hand that had written Baek Gaon, the neat entries made with a mechanical pencil brought from home. That notebook would tell her when Kim Ju-yeon had arrived at the mansion. Of course that was not the important part.

She simply hated the gaping holes in her memory. Whenever Gaon discovered a blank, she tried as hard as she could to fill it.

Grunting, she shifted the badger taxidermy that crowded the front of the drawers. Careful not to let her hands brush the animal fur, she gripped the base beneath.

Thud.

Just then a faint noise came from the corner of the warehouse.

What.

Gaon let go of the taxidermy and spun around in alarm. Nothing unusual showed in the quiet shed. Only a large, old wardrobe stood alone in the farthest corner. Every other piece of furniture was covered with white cloth; that wardrobe alone left its worn body exposed. Apparently no cloth large enough had been found for it.

Must have misheard.

As she turned back to move the badger, a strange sight caught her eye.

Something like hair was sticking out between the heavily closed wardrobe doors. Black strands, stark against the dark wood, curled and spilled out in a tangled cascade.

Hair…? What am I thinking.

Goosebumps raced from her toes to the crown of her head. The warehouse was dim; she was clearly seeing things.

But it was definitely hair. As if it had been shoved in carelessly. Like that, right there.

Her whole body locked. Her gaze stuck fast and would not tear away. The terror that the wardrobe door would swing open any second and whatever was inside would crawl out froze her in place.

“What are you doing here.”

“Aah!”

At the sudden voice she screamed and whirled around. Cha Taekyung stood tall in the warehouse entrance, expression dry. His large frame blocked every scrap of light from the doorway and made the shed even darker.

“Y-you startled me!”

“If I startled you, I apologize.”

The man spoke with an expression that held no apology at all. Gaon pressed a hand over her racing heart. The reason she had been more startled than usual was not, in truth, Cha Taekyung. Embarrassment at having screamed over nothing flooded her at once. She had been that terrified.

“No—the hair over there…”

Gaon pointed toward the wardrobe without thinking. But the black hair that had spilled out in a mess was gone. It had vanished completely. Clearly it had been long enough to drag on the floor, flowing like a waterfall. Gaon hugged her arms. The goosebumps still stood.

While she stared blankly, Taekyung strode straight to the wardrobe. Before she could stop him he flung the doors open. Gaon nearly screamed again.

“Were you looking for a broom.”

Inside the wardrobe sat only a few yellow brooms. Her strength drained away.

Am I that drained? Seeing things now.

After claiming she paid no attention to ghosts or ghost stories, the thoroughly terrified figure she had cut already embarrassed her. Her heart still pounded.

In that brief span she had imagined something unpleasant—that her uncle, just as he made these taxidermies and stashed them in the warehouse, might have killed someone and hidden the body here. That was why she had been even more startled. No matter how gloomy Baek Jeong-hak was, he could not be mad enough to commit murder.

“…Why did you come here?”

Gaon asked with a sigh. Why would a man who never left the garden clearing come all the way to this remote warehouse? And of all days, today.

Having shown Cha Taekyung such an unsightly, terrified face left her in a foul mood.

“A walk.”

Gaon’s eyes narrowed. From several days of watching him she knew Cha Taekyung moved strictly according to routine. He never left his set path. Yet suddenly it was a walk? Ignoring her doubt, Taekyung asked a question of his own.

“These days you don’t seem to be monitoring whether I smoke.”

The question came out of nowhere.

“Yes.”

“Why is that?”

Cha Taekyung’s head tilted slightly. Today he wore black athletic clothes. The workout set that clearly showed his broad shoulders and long legs suited him well. It also gave off an aura that made him hard to approach.

“When you told me not to follow you so you wouldn’t get the wrong idea—and now you want me to keep watch?”

Gaon answered coldly as she shifted the badger aside again and opened the topmost box. Inside were old ornaments.

“Yes. When the person who used to follow me around stops following, it does feel empty.”

Not joking. Not teasing.

Anger surged in Gaon. Helping her and Gayoung was one thing; she was not generous enough to overlook this sudden visit and the way he kept poking at her.

I don’t have time to play around with you.

She meant to snap exactly that. That was the only reason she turned.

“…!”

And Gaon discovered the grotesque sight the man was staring down at. This time she was truly startled out of her wits. She learned firsthand that when the shock is too great, even a scream will not come.

At the end of his gaze, in the corner of the warehouse, lay the corpse of a rat with its head cut off.