The red-haired and the master

3-part

By Seva

“Let me go! Please, let me go!” Su Jin cried, struggling against the iron grip of the men who held her.

The Master gave a dry laugh. “What a sharp voice she has—sharp enough to pierce an ear,” he murmured, half to himself.

“Say the word, Master, and I’ll cut her tongue out,” one of his men offered eagerly.

The Master’s eyes gleamed. “And how would she then reveal the secret of the spell? I don’t speak the language of the mute.”

The chamber prepared for him was richly furnished, but he barely glanced at it. He threw himself down upon the couch with an air of careless command. “I’m tired,” he muttered.

“You have had a long day,” said the only woman among his followers. “Perhaps you should rest.”

“Yes,” he agreed with a wicked smile, “but not before… bring her in.”

They dragged Su Jin forward and tried to force her onto her knees. But stubborn to her core, she resisted, planting her feet against the floor. The Master laughed aloud, delighted.

“This girl,” he said, “is worth losing sleep over.”

Everyone else chuckled at his jest—everyone except Su Jin. He noticed that, too.

“I shall ask a short question, and you will give me a short answer. What is the secret of the spell?”

Still his men tried to force her down.

“What, you refuse to kneel before me?” he said softly.

“I would rather die than kneel,” Su Jin answered.

The Master sighed heavily, as though her defiance truly grieved him. “What a pity.”

At his words, one of his men brought forward a weapon—a club studded with cruel iron teeth. Su Jin’s heart quickened as dread washed over her. They no longer pressed her to her knees. Instead, they gripped her arms so she could not move.

The Master rose, his weariness forgotten. He wanted this moment for himself.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said with mockery. “I’ll give you a little help to kneel.”

The club came down. Pain so fierce it stole her breath shot through Su Jin’s leg as the spiked iron tore into her shin. The room blurred before her eyes, sparks bursting in her vision. She could no longer feel her lower leg, as though it had been ripped away from her body.

“You’re tougher than I expected,” the Master said, laughing, as she fought to remain standing. Blood pooled at her feet, yet she clenched her teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a scream. That silent defiance only stoked his anger. He raised the club for another strike—

But in that instant, one of Su Jin’s friends broke free of his chains and hurled himself at the Master. Quick as a serpent, the Master turned and swung. The club smashed into the boy’s skull. His head flew from his body, crashing against the stone wall before sliding down, while his lifeless body twitched briefly, then lay still in a spreading pool of blood.

“Kon Su!” Su Jin shrieked.

Kon Su—three years younger than her, bright and full of laughter, who had loved her with all his heart. He had confessed many times, and she had always answered with nothing more than a gentle, sorrowful smile. Now he lay before her in two pieces.

The Master’s lips curved in triumph. He had broken her at last. Su Jin collapsed, clutching Kon Su’s lifeless body, sobbing.

“Well?” the Master drawled. “Shall we continue the show?”

In her grief, she hurled herself at him. He only sidestepped, letting her fall helplessly to the floor. Her mangled legs betrayed her; she could not rise. She prayed desperately that it was all a nightmare, that Kon Su would smile again, that this monster would vanish.

“So your friends’ lives matter more to you,” the Master mused aloud. “Very well. Then let us play a game. I will choose the person… and you will choose the punishment. But I shall not tell you the names—only the letters.”

He pointed to Su Jin’s friend, Yon An. “I choose this girl. Now, you must decide. A? B? C? Or perhaps D?”

Su Jin tried to rise, but her legs betrayed her, heavy as stone.

“If you want to play games, play with me,” she pleaded. “Leave them alone.”

“You wish to play with me?” he sneered. “And will you promise not to run? I need you alive, after all.”

“If I choose,” she whispered, “will you spare them?”

“Answering a question with a question. Very well. I will not kill you. I will keep you with me. You will amuse me from time to time.” He grinned. “Now—have you ever played tag? I used to play it often as a child. We shall play it now, you and I. Run. Don’t look back.”

Su Jin froze. Run? From what?

“Run!” he roared.

For her friends’ sake, she forced herself upright and staggered away, limping into the corridor, down the stairs. Yet soon she felt absurd—what was she even running from? She turned—

A dagger pierced her shoulder. She screamed.

Behind her crawled a girl in a tattered pink dress, long hair dragging across the ground. Through the strands, Su Jin glimpsed the horror of her face: rotting flesh, empty sockets where eyes had been, and in one socket a dagger still lodged.

From above, the Master’s voice rang out. “That is my beloved. See how jealous she is? Because I spoke to you, she now wishes to kill you.”

Another dagger sank into Su Jin’s opposite shoulder. The agony stole her breath. She knew she could not escape. The pink-dressed figure grinned horribly. Though her mouth never moved, cruel laughter echoed through the hall, from every corner.

Su Jin clutched her ears and shut her eyes. But when she opened them again, a pair of glowing white eyes blazed before her. She fainted.

When she awoke, her teacher, Man Vol, stood over her with a weary, sorrowful smile. Her pain had vanished—he must have healed her wounds.

“Forgive me,” Man Vol whispered, tears streaming down her bruised face.

“Don’t say that, Teacher,” Su Jin murmured.

“I betrayed you all. Forgive me, if you can. They tortured me… and I told them the secret.” She knelt beside Su Jin’s bed, her lip split and bleeding.

“It isn’t your fault. Please… stand,” Su Jin begged.

Then the hated voice returned, mocking and cold.

“So, you are awake. It seems I must speak with you often, for only you can teach me the secret of the spell. Let us become acquainted. They call me Master. And you—what is your name?”

“You don’t need to know,” Su Jin spat. “My name was not given so filth like you could speak it.”

The Master chuckled. “Still defiant. Good. I’m in a fine mood today. I like your hair—rare in color, rare in length. From now on, I’ll call you… Red-haired.”