33| SALT BARN
Seojin never saw this ghastly vision coming, not even with a fancy crystal ball.
During this intense period of murderous planning, it felt like he was standing between a barn of salt, where his mind, in all its sadistic fury, was able to absorb and remember all the points on sucking the blood like a leech, the leech being Sejin.
Unsurprisingly, there were sacrifices to be made, and he had no choice but to grab a handful of salt from the nearest pile, hurl it right at his face, and run.
Run until he had his answers.
But he did the exact opposite: he stood there and stared, staring until the sensation on his face became painful; he dropped to the ground and began to sob, pouring out everything in his body as if it were so much salt water. He felt his body drain, tumble, and shake at the loud gasps of sob leaving his lips as his mind hurdled with every thought, every memory, and every pain— how Ahyun cheated on him, how they fell in love, how Sejin tied him up and jabbed the syringe in his neck until he fell pliant.
Seojin was left in a battle of emotions; the fine line of distinction between now and then felt so gone.
What was the reality?
The one where he lived with Ahyun and Mi-cha with no trace of his brother, or the one that jarred his existence and Sejin turned grey. He was continuously tortured by the thought of the two extreme realities, where neither of them felt fake but faded away. He was tortured by the thought that none of the events between his time and his return to this time were really occurring or were entirely fabricated.
And his twin, who had been anticipating this breaking point for his own brother, felt a sigh of relief with each drop of liquid pain trickling down his eyes.
The elder twin felt very well—so well, in fact, that they could not sense the trouble that had befallen the younger brother; rather, they kept relishing the pain for their ecstasy.
Oh, how content he felt seeing Seojin cry.
For the next few seconds, Seojin thought he would have a heart attack from the intensity of the pair of eyes now gazing through him, licking at his wounds. Lacking the power to stop this miserable spectacle and bearing what seemed like incurable wounds, Seojin turned his gaze to those eyes and asked, "Sejinnie?"
And Sejin chuckled, laughing out loud like a maniac. He laughed himself senseless like a madman, as if he were afraid that his gut would explode.
"Ah, an hour of those neurotransmitter chips not working and you have your memory back. Always so sleek, huh Seojin-ah?"
Jaden could only tug at his sleeves, eyes contrary to the echo, "Professor, this isn't right, he has recognised you. Let's-"
"This is the perfect time, buddy..." Sejin took a few steps toward the light, his face now fully on display. He leaned against the wall, arms and legs crossed at the ankles, legs a bit apart with his knee cocked as if he were relaxing his body after a strenuous stretch.
Seojin pounded on his head in frustration; he'd been trudging in this darkened room for long, but to no avail. He heard what he said, and it was real: an old Sejin and a dead family. But the crumpled form still lay beneath the table. And after minutes of silence, he finally spoke up, asking, "What did you do?"
Another cackle: "Me? What do you think I did, Jinnie?"
Seojin gave him a wide-eyed gaze. Despite the fact that the situation demanded serious insinuations, he couldn't help but recall how obstinate and harsh his twin could be. Never before had his brother accepted something and given out the truth without deflecting the questions the other way.
An extreme Sagittarian behaviour.
"Just tell me, Sejin, what is this?"
He stood at the threshold, hands by his sides, head against the wall. "I will, I will, but first tell me, Jinnie, how do I look?"
At his demand, Seojin zeroed in on his twin, taking him in as a whole: grey hairs, long and curled around his head in a mullet; a round, thick-rimmed glass atop his nose; a beige-striped shirt; and the old grandpa pants, and something snapped in him. Sejin looked like an old man, a very old one.
"Sejin, you look—" he said, waiting for some light to filter down the stairs.
And Seojin chuckled, his hands motioning Jaden, and he waited, eyes fixed on Jin: "I am old, my brother, a eighty-one year old man, married to Choi Ahyun, fathered her illegitimate child, lived your life, and sent you on a trip around the world."
It felt like some well-versed narration of some drama; though he could remember what Sejin did to him, the rest felt scripted and well-rehearsed.
"Stop this joke, Sejin, I remember us fighting, but it is—I was about to get married, no, no—I was married, I had a daughter, we were happy then—but you called before I got married—"
He felt the cold blood run down his face, and his palms turned sticky and damp. He had no idea what was right and what was not. To suffice what he felt with simple words would be an understatement bordering on an insult. His mind raced, thoughts colliding like cars in a thunderstorm. He felt like a lone boat adrift in a tempestuous sea, with no compass to guide him ashore. Every decision he made seemed to lead him deeper into the labyrinth of his own doubts.
However, despite any circumstances, if granted, his head would resemble a cactus plant. It would be utterly drained of moisture, resembling parched soil, yet somehow managing to survive. The spiky thorns would adorn this sharp façade, further accentuating its inhospitable nature. Moreover, his heart would resemble a bed full of wilting flowers, drowned in excessive water, symbolizing the withering state of his emotions.
Too much of anything felt nauseating.
Sejin took kitten-like steps towards him, enjoying his situation a little too much. "Everything is right, my brother, but the order is messed up," he paused, busy distinguishing what else his bother could feel before starting off again.
"Let me put it all into context. I married Ahyun, I fathered Mi-cha who, as it turns out, wasn't even mine and lived a life as you until my dearest wife figured it out, so had to kill them which I would have done either way for greater good."
"But wait, there's more," Sejin said, his tone dripping with irony. "Before all that, I packed you up, sneaked you into a time capsule, and sent you on an extraordinary journey around the world." Sejin chuckled, relishing in his own audacity.
"You, my dear brother, possess a unique talent for destruction, and you didn't disappoint. You managed to destroy the spaceship just like you destroyed my childhood."
Seojin's head was spinning with confusion. Spaceship? Destroyed? He struggled to piece together the fragments of his twin's words. "Seji-" he began, his voice barely a whisper.
Sejin, however, paid no heed to his brother's plea for explanation. "But I was lucky your time capsule was safe, so I locked you there with the best ever story telling of you being married to Ahyun, and added the characters who were once here until you decided to be the nagging bastard you are and woke up after fifty-four years."
Maybe if Seojin could rewind, he'd have done so, or perhaps write them down or rewind and listen. He'd be sane, and he never would've cried and lost the way that he, well, cried and lost.
The thought consumed him, weaving its way into every crevice of his thoughts. If only he could turn back the clock and make different choices. He imagined himself pausing at each pivotal moment, considering his options with the wisdom of hindsight. He wondered if things would have turned out differently, if he would have avoided the pain and heartache that now burdened his soul.
But deep down, beneath the longing for a second chance, a shadow of doubt lingered. What if rewinding time would only make matters worse? What if altering the past set off a chain reaction of unfavourable events, leading him down a darker and more treacherous path? Seojin shuddered at the thought, realizing that perhaps it was futile to dwell on what-ifs.
He would be more cynical than he was now, and he would finally accept with a bitter taste left in his mouth.
"You don't mean that, Sejin," he sighed, "please tell me you don't mean that, Sejin. "Tell me this is a shit joke like being possessed! Tell ah ugh—"
His hands instinctively reached out to graze it at the back of his neck, where he discovered the hand holding the needle right against his carotid and a panting Jaden holding it just in place.
He tried to retort, grab his hand, pull him down, and he did fine, toppling Jaden over him, plucking out the needle, trying to punch him, but too dizzy.
The juxtaposition of salt and blood, as well as Sejin's horrifying desire for this one individual victim, made for a rather shocking scene.
"If I were having a hard time just killing so many people, I can imagine you having to hurt one."
"No, no..." And he managed only two mighty syllables.
"Oh, you won't die... You will live for a long time." He heard the voice again, now loud, clear, and personified.
"You will live and be forever young." It was the same voice that he had heard since he was a child. It comforted him when he was afraid, and it gave him strength when he needed it most. It was Sejin.
And before falling into the clutches of his twin, he heard a loud blast, and a white noise tailed along.
_________
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