Dear Eddert - Chapter 3

Gulp.

Hye-mi swallowed dryly, her eyes wide as she stared at her phone screen. Determined to spend the day doing something “productive,” she had chosen to read. After all, books were food for the soul, and reading was the ultimate form of relaxation within the confines of home.

“Lady Chor-yeon…”

There was no one around, yet Hye-mi held her breath, her focus glued to the screen. The story was at a thrilling point. Anticipating the steamy millhouse scene where the rugged farmhand, Kang-soe, and the reserved mistress would finally consummate their long-standing tension, her palms grew sweaty.

“Kang-soe…”

She pressed her finger firmly to turn the page. The phone’s screen filled with the sight of Kang-soe’s chiseled, bare body—an exquisite masterpiece unveiled at last. Even his rough servant’s clothes had failed to conceal the magnificence of his physique, but seeing it fully exposed was a whole new level.

His thighs were like sculpted stone, his abs rippled like waves, and there, between them, a shining “beam-like” manhood stood proudly as if mocking censorship itself.

“Squeal! Perfection! Men really are better when everything’s bigger!”

The painting-like depiction of Lady Chor-yeon frozen in shock mirrored Hye-mi’s reaction as she clenched her pillow and tried to suppress a squeal.

Only half a day ago, she had been standing on the Han River bridge, contemplating the end of her life. Now, grinning wickedly, her eyes darkened with desire, she was lost in the story’s intoxicating pull.

“Lady, I’m going mad here. Look… see how it drips from the tip? Please, touch me. Save me.”

Kang-soe’s desperate, throaty whispers seemed to leap off the screen. Hye-mi read each word with the focus of someone licking honey off a spoon.

“I… I… cannot. I cannot do such a thing.”

Lady Chor-yeon had long admired Kang-soe from the shadows, watching him split logs with ease. She had been sold off as a child bride at the age of 13 to a 50-year-old widower and became a widow herself after just a week of marriage. Kang-soe, a young servant at the time, had grown into a beast of a man capable of felling oxen with his bare hands.

Watching his broad, sweat-soaked back ripple as he worked, Lady Chor-yeon had chewed on her handkerchief, her innocent gaze betraying a mix of fear and yearning.

Next page. Faster.

“Huff… Huff… My lady… you smell so sweet… from your undergarments. Please… spread your legs… I beg you.”

The next scene showed Lady Chor-yeon trembling pitifully, her head tilted at a shy 45-degree angle. Before her, Kang-soe crept forward across the heated ondol floor, his shining “beam” bobbing with determination. Snow fell heavily outside, and the fearsome mother-in-law slept soundly in another room.

Perfect.

Hye-mi could predict what would happen next: overcome by desire, Kang-soe would pin Lady Chor-yeon to the floor and bury his face in her drenched undergarments, panting wildly.

“How dare you… Ah… there, of all places, with your filthy mouth…”

“Kill me now, my lady. Slurp, slurp. My lady, I could die happy. Slurp. How can your upper lips be beautiful, and yet these lower ones be even more… so small, so perfect… Huff…”

“No, don’t! Not there… Ahhh!”

“Your lips won’t stop parting, my lady. Sigh. And… your nectar… sweeter than any rice wine…”

Of course.

By this point, the virginal Lady Chor-yeon, experiencing such unfamiliar sensations for the first time, would undoubtedly burst into tears. Ultimately, she would succumb to Kang-soe’s relentless advances and wail as he pinned her down with his boulder-like frame.

Ah, this was the good stuff.

If someone ever asked why she kept reading such predictable stories, she would confidently answer, “The familiar flavor is always the most delicious.”

Hye-mi’s heart pounded as she eagerly anticipated the next chapter. Just as she was about to flip the page, completely immersed, a voice shattered the silence.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

A soft laugh mixed with a man’s voice caused Hye-mi to snap her head up. She froze, her heart pounding in her chest as she instinctively scanned the room. Nothing. Of course, no one was there.

What the hell…

Was someone talking outside? Maybe at the playground? She had probably just been too engrossed in her story and misheard something.

Shrugging it off, Hye-mi turned her attention back to her phone. It was finally time for Kang-soe and Lady Chor-yeon to set up their “rice cake mill.” Of course, there had to be a scene involving some oral action before actual penetration. She didn’t have personal experience, but theoretically, she was a master.

“Is it really that entertaining?”

The phone slipped from Hye-mi’s hands and thudded onto the bed. She froze, her widened eyes blinking rapidly. Her heart thudded erratically, and she swallowed hard. This time, she knew she hadn’t imagined it. The voice was coming from inside her room.

Is it a burglar? A creep who broke into the house?

Her eyes darted around. There were plenty of hiding places—a closet, under the bed, even the veranda connected to the small adjoining room. A flood of horrible scenarios overwhelmed her, and the only logical thought that broke through was that she should call the police.

Just as her trembling hands managed to grab her phone, the voice returned.

“Apologies for interrupting your delightful little moment.”

The colorful, risqué page she’d been reading was gone, replaced by a face that looked like it belonged in a fantasy movie. Hye-mi’s eyes went wide as a strikingly handsome man with long silver hair filled her phone screen. He smiled gently at her frozen expression.

“At least you’re not screaming. That’s a relief.”

Hye-mi squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head violently, then pressed the power button on her phone until it turned off. Tossing the device onto her blanket, she exhaled shakily and began counting to ten.

If it was a dream, she would just wake up. If it was a hallucination, a cold shower should fix it. Either way, it was better than an actual intruder.

Three. Two. One.

When she opened her eyes, the silver-haired man from her phone was now standing in front of her.

“Have you finished thinking?”

Slap.

Hye-mi clapped her hands hard against her cheeks, leaving them stinging and red.

“Oh dear, that must hurt,” the man said, tilting his head slightly. His silvery hair shimmered, reflecting the sunlight streaming through the window. “If you keep hitting yourself like that, you’ll leave marks.”

Am I hallucinating from heatstroke? Or is this really a dream?

Her cheeks throbbed painfully—proof that she wasn’t asleep. As the man stretched out a long, elegant hand toward her, Hye-mi instinctively leaned back.

“…Who are you?” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Let’s just say I’m the one who sent you to this world,” he replied languidly, withdrawing his hand. “It took quite some time to find you.”

Hye-mi stared at him, her confusion growing. The man looked unreal—like a painting brought to life. His clothing, embroidered with gold threads on pristine white fabric, wasn’t anything she had ever seen before. Perhaps someone in Hollywood costume design might create something similar.

“Is that all you wish to ask?” he prompted again, his piercing gaze steady.

Is there a mental hospital nearby?

Hye-mi began to wonder if this striking figure was simply a very ill man who had wandered into the wrong place. Regardless, calling the police still seemed like the best course of action.

She reached for her phone, but before her fingers could touch it, the device flew through the air and landed gently on her desk.

The phone moved on its own.

Her jaw dropped as she stared silently at the impossible sight.

“If you have no further questions,” the silver-haired man said with a mysterious smile, “it’s time for you to return.”

“W-where?” she stammered, her voice trembling.

“To where you truly belong,” he replied, his enigmatic expression unwavering.

“Excuse me, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. Wait… am I… dead?”

Hye-mi’s voice trembled as confusion gripped her. Could it be that she had actually drowned in the Han River? If so, this strange situation might finally make sense. The silver-haired man could very well be a grim reaper, here to escort her to the afterlife.

“It would be better for you to hear the explanation from your loyal subordinate,” he replied calmly.

“Subordinate? Who are you even talking about?”

Things were getting weirder by the second. The supposed grim reaper tilted his head, his serene expression unchanging.

“There’s no need to rush.”

A chill, like a winter breeze, brushed against her cheek. Hye-mi froze under the spell of his soft, sky-blue eyes, unable to look away.

“My name is Benedict. When you need help, come find me.”

The faint, icy sensation of something like a snowflake grazed her cheek.

“I’ll be waiting for you in the brightest place,” he said softly, his form radiating a dazzling light that seemed to engulf the entire room.

“I’ll leave you with a gift to mark our meeting,” his voice echoed in her mind, like shards of gently crushed ice.

Hye-mi’s body refused to move. All she could do was stand there, her eyes wide open, as the blinding light seemed to pierce her vision. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the light faded.

When she opened her eyes, Benedict was gone. Her phone, showing the webtoon she had been reading, lay neatly on her rumpled bed.

It was just a dream…

“…Of course it was.”

Relief flooded her, and she let out a long, shaky sigh. Adjusting her ponytail, she scanned her familiar room.

Her small, unremarkable room hadn’t changed a bit since her childhood. The walls were still covered in the tacky pink wallpaper her mom had chosen when they first moved in. The yellow square clock ticked on the wall, though Hye-mi couldn’t remember when it was last replaced. Her tiny desk, barely used for studying, stood next to the full-length mirror near the door.

Her hands paused as she tied her hair. Her gaze stopped at the mirror.

A large, dark figure cloaked in what looked like a black hooded mantle stared back at her from inside the mirror.

The dream wasn’t over.

And it seemed the Grim Reaper wasn’t Benedict.

“Eden, can you see me?”

The hulking figure, as massive and imposing as a boulder, grimaced as it locked eyes with her through the mirror.

“You can see me.”

Hye-mi’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her lips trembled as she stared in shock, unable to tear her eyes away.

“Stay calm. Stay calm,” she whispered to herself, her clammy hands gripping and releasing the thin blanket on her bed. Her heart raced violently, but she didn’t feel like she would pass out. Not yet.

“I knew you’d come back,” the figure continued.

Before she could process his words, the impossible happened. The man began pushing through the mirror.

The flat surface of the glass bulged outward like stretched plastic. He emerged as though peeling himself free from a translucent barrier, his enormous frame slowly breaking through.

Compared to this, the silver-haired man from her phone was positively comforting. This was more terrifying than any horror movie she had ever seen.

“A-aah… No,” she stammered, scooting back on the bed until her back hit the headboard. She had nowhere else to retreat.

“I’ve waited a long time for you, Eden. I knew you would awaken.”

“D-don’t come any closer…”

Her voice quivered, barely audible, but it was futile. The man was now fully free of the mirror, his towering form moving steadily toward her.

“Haa… ah…”

The last thread of her composure snapped. She could do nothing but gasp in terror as he closed the distance between them.

It wasn’t too late. Could she survive jumping out of her third-floor apartment window? At worst, she might break a leg, but that seemed better than whatever was happening now—definitely better than jumping off the Han River bridge.

Overwhelmed by the terror of imminent death, Hye-mi tried to get up and flee. But her body wouldn’t move, as if it were bound tightly with invisible ropes.

“Ugh…! Uh…!”

A faint whimper escaped her lips. Even with her eyes squeezed shut, she could sense it—the shadowy figure had fully emerged from the mirror and was now inside her room.

“Hh… Hh…!”

Her teeth chattered uncontrollably, and she trembled as she struggled to keep from screaming. Mustering all her strength, Hye-mi cracked her eyes open just slightly.

The black-clad figure was standing at the foot of her bed.

“…W-who are you?” she stammered, her voice trembling.

The burning intensity in his deep brown eyes gave her the impression of flames flickering within. The fear she felt was different—far more visceral—than the unease Benedict had inspired. Her chest felt hot, her heart pounding so hard it was painful. Could this terrifying figure be the “gift” Benedict had mentioned?

“A-are you a ghost? A spirit? Or a grim reaper?”