Chapter Text
The late afternoon sun filtered gently through the windshield, stretched into long, golden strokes that softened the world beyond the glass. The highway was quiet at this hour, an unbroken ribbon of asphalt that wound patiently through fields the color of fading summer, dotted here and there with the last traces of wildflowers. Su Muyu had his cheek resting against the window, watching the scenery pass by with a calm expression that didn’t quite hide the subtle excitement beneath his eyes.
Beside him, one hand steady on the wheel, the other resting casually on the center console, Su Changhe. He wasn’t a man who talked unnecessarily, yet the air between them never felt empty. It was enough for Changhe to simply be there, glancing at Muyu now and then with a look that held something warm and unspoken. On any other day, Muyu would have teased him about staring too much while driving, but today felt unusually tranquil, like the universe was suspended in a slow breath for just the two of them.
“Do you like it so far?” Changhe asked, voice low, almost hesitant in a way Muyu rarely heard. It made Muyu turn slightly curious.
“The drive?” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “Or your mysterious ‘place you want me to see’?”
Changhe cleared his throat.
“Both.”
Muyu hide a smile behind a quiet breath.
“Careful. If you sound any more nervous, I might think you’re cheating on me.”
Changhe’s hand jerked slightly on the wheel.
“What?? Why-!! Muyu- what kind of-”
A soft laugh spilled out of Muyu before he could stop it. He leaned back against his seat, satisfied with the reaction he’d earned.
“Relax,” he said, voice warm with amusement. “I’m joking.”
Changhe’s jaw tightened, not in anger, but in that stiff, flustered way he got whenever Muyu managed to catch him off guard.
“I’m not cheating on you,” he muttered, still visibly unsettled. “I haven’t even talked to anyone but you all weeks.”
Muyu gave him a sideways glance, eyes soft but teasing.
“I know,” he said lightly. “That’s why it’s fun to tease you.”
Changhe made a quiet sound deep in his throat, something between a sigh and a suppressed smile, but he didn’t argue. And though he looked back at the road, the faint flush at the tips of his ears gave him away completely.
Muyu allowed himself a soft smile, the kind that tightened something in Changhe’s chest every time he saw it.
“It’s peaceful,” Muyu said. “Quiet. A bit too quiet for you, isn’t it?”
“But you like it, right?”
Muyu didn’t deny it. He folded his hands loosely, letting silence settle again, though this time it carried the steady warmth of familiarity. Changhe’s softened tone hadn’t escaped him. For days now, Changhe had been… different, still protective, still sharp, still maddeningly stubborn, but gentler in ways that made Muyu pause. He brushed off Muyu’s questions with vague answers and suspicious smiles that didn’t suit him at all.
Whatever he was hiding, it was important.
The thought almost made Muyu laugh, because Su Changhe was terrible at hiding anything from him. His emotions were practically wired into his posture, the slight stiffness in his shoulders meant he was planning something, the way his thumb tapped once against the steering wheel meant he was thinking too hard, and the way he kept glancing at the glove compartment is just…
Muyu didn’t say it out loud, but he noticed everything.
“Do you want to tell me where we’re going now?” Muyu asked lightly, knowing perfectly well the answer he would get.
“No,” Changhe said immediately, and then, after a beat, quietly added, “You’ll see soon.”
Muyu shifted, leaning back comfortably, letting his eyes drift over the faint outline of distant hills.
“You sound nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“You keep checking the glove compartment. What’s inside? Don’t tell me you’re hiding some new weird weapon. It’s suspicious that it makes me think you’re planning something risky”
Changhe’s fingers tightened on the wheel, very subtly.
“It’s not risky. Trust me”
“So what is it?”
“A surprise.”
Muyu gave him a look that said he trusted him but the answer didn’t satisfy him at all.
But Changhe didn’t look away from the road. His jaw had the faintest tension, visible only to someone who’d spent years learning its meanings, and Muyu found himself strangely touched. Whatever this was, it mattered to him. It mattered enough to keep him uncharacteristically thoughtful.
Outside, the sunlight dipped a little lower, turning warm gold into a deeper amber. The shadows grew longer, stretching across the road like dark fingers reaching toward the car. The air in the vehicle cooled, and Muyu pulled on the light jacket he’d brought with him.
Changhe’s eyes flicked toward him again, almost instinctively, checking if he was cold.
Muyu shrugged the jacket on, deliberately casual, but the corner of his mouth curved.
“You fuss too much.”
Changhe answered without missing a beat.
“Only with you.”
It was such a simple sentence, spoken so naturally, that Muyu didn’t know what to do with the sudden warmth blooming in his chest. He turned his head toward the window again, pretending to watch the scenery, though he wasn’t really looking at anything at all.
The truth was, Muyu loved this.
This quiet between them. This gentle stretch of time where nothing demanded their attention except the next turn in the road. This strange, tender side of Changhe that surfaced only when Su Muyu is near him.
It was a rare peace. A fragile peace.
And Muyu let himself sink into it, unaware of how temporary it would soon become.
They drove for another half hour, the road beginning to wind through a thicker patch of forest. The trees grew tall here, their branches forming a canopy that swallowed the late sun and replaced it with a muted, dusky glow. The shift in atmosphere was subtle but noticeable; even the air felt denser, as if they’d crossed an invisible threshold.
Changhe slowed the car slightly.
Muyu noticed.
“You know where we are?” he asked.
Changhe’s eyes traced the path ahead.
“More or less. The signal’s weak here, so the GPS is acting strange.”
Muyu leaned forward, watching the small screen integrated into the dashboard as it flickered, spun once, and then recalibrated itself with a new route suggestion. A blinking arrow pointed toward an exit on the narrow two-lane road.
“That wasn’t the route earlier,” Muyu murmured.
Changhe hesitated, although just barely a second but Muyu caught it.
“It might be recalculating because of the mountain road closure from this morning,” Changhe said, though his brows drew together thoughtfully. “We’ll follow it a bit further.”
Muyu didn’t argue. He trusted Changhe’s judgment even more than he trusted the GPS.
Still, he couldn’t shake the faint shiver running down his spine. The forest was too quiet here, not even the distant hum of another car.
Just silence and this silence makes him feel wrong.
He gave the road one more glance before sitting back, forcing himself to relax. Perhaps he was imagining things. Perhaps the late hour made everything seem stranger than it truly was.
But his instincts, honed from the life he never bragged about, whispered that something was off.
Changhe, however, seemed unaware of the creeping unease. If anything, he looked more focused than ever, eyes sharpened, posture straight, as if the forest demanded caution.
A moment later, he reached out, gently brushing the back of his fingers against Muyu’s knee, a small, grounding gesture.
“You okay?”
Muyu blinked at him, surprised at the sudden touch.
“…Yes. I just… This place felt a bit strange”
“Don’t worry, we’re nearby”
Changhe exhaled through his nose, the way he did whenever Muyu’s instincts began speaking. He trusted those instincts more than anything else, even more than logic or training. But he had planned today. He wanted today. And so he kept driving.
It had been a long time since they last took a trip together without work weighing over them, and Su Muyu didn’t want to ruin Changhe’s mood. He let the thought go, tilted his head slightly, and changed the subject.
“So where is this place you’re taking me?”
Changhe’s expression shifted, a fleeting softness touching his eyes.
“A house,” he said. “I think you’ll like it. Maybe more than you think.”
There it was again, that strange warmth in Changhe’s voice, the one that made Muyu’s heart skip.
“Are you buying a house?” Muyu asked, half teasing, half genuinely curious. “You didn’t mention that!”
Changhe let out a breath that was almost a laugh.
Muyu gave him a sideways look.
“You memorized half the city’s backroads, but this one bothers you?”
“This forest is… different.” Changhe hesitated, then added, “I haven’t come to that house in person yet”
“But you still decided to buy it?” Muyu’s eyes widened, what a rich person Changhe is.
Changhe laughs softly, and gives Muyu a gentle look.
“I have searched many houses, but I am not satisfied. This house is the most suitable for you. You’ll understand when we get there.”
More secrets. Muyu narrowed his eyes playfully.
“I see. Keeping secrets from me now.”
Changhe didn’t answer, instead, he reached over and quietly laced their fingers together, eyes still fixed on the road. The gesture was so unexpected, so intimate, that Muyu felt heat rise behind his eyes.
He squeezed Changhe’s hand back, softly.
Neither of them spoke after that.
The car rolled deeper into the forest, the trees leaning in as if to observe the passing car. Branches arched above like a series of quiet, ancient gateways. The remaining sunlight filtered through them in patches, painting shifting shapes across Muyu’s face. He watched the shadows play on the glass, the fading gold turning into muted bands of gray as evening crept forward.
Changhe slowed the car again, not drastically, he turned back toward the window, the forest grew denserthe air darkened. And the GPS blinked again, glitching, recalibrating, forcing a new direction.
Changhe frowned.
“That’s the third time it’s recalculated.”
Muyu leaned closer to the screen.
“It keeps pushing us to turn right.”
Changhe slowed further, eyes lifting from the GPS to a small wooden sign half-hidden by tall grass and creeping vines. The paint was old, the white letters cracked and flaking, but still legible.
<Resident by the Lake __ 5 km>
The arrow pointed straight ahead, toward a narrow road barely visible between the trees, more shadow than pavement.
The GPS chimed again, almost impatient.
<TURN RIGHT>
Muyu’s gaze shifted between the screen and the sign. The road to the right looked wider on the map, but out here, it vanished into nothing but foliage and uneven ground.
“This doesn’t look like a main road,” he murmured.
“It isn’t,” Changhe replied, honest. “But the GPS thinks it is.”
Changhe hesitated, fingers tightening slightly around the steering wheel.
“The signal’s unstable,” Changhe said. “And that sign’s been here longer than the system knows this place exists.”
Changhe glanced at him.
Muyu met his eyes, calm and certain.
“Let’s go with the sign.”
That was enough.
Changhe exhaled, turned the wheel, and guided the car straight ahead.
The road narrowed almost at once. Asphalt gave way to older pavement, cracked and split by roots that had long ago decided the forest mattered more than cars ever would. Branches arched overhead, interlocking until they formed a tunnel of shadow that swallowed them whole.
Behind them, the GPS recalculated again, silent this time.
Ahead, the forest closed in.
They drove for several more minutes before Changhe finally spoke again.
“We’re close,” he murmured.
Muyu blinked at him.
“To the house?”
Changhe nodded, though his eyebrows drew together faintly.
“Or at least… we should be.”
The GPS screen flickered again. The blinking arrow froze for a moment.
Then, <NO SIGNAL> flashed across the display.
Changhe’s jaw tightened. Muyu stared at the dark screen. For the first time that evening, the silence inside the car felt heavy.
“Losing the signal is normal in forests,” Muyu said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “It’s not the first time.”
“I know,” Changhe replied, his voice steady but distant.
Muyu reached over and adjusted the angle of the device, but it didn’t matter. The system remained blank, flickering occasionally as if trying to catch a nonexistent connection.
The car rolled slowly back along the narrow path, its headlights cutting once more through the dense, suffocating darkness. Neither Muyu nor Changhe spoke. The clearing disappeared behind them, swallowed by the forest as though it had never existed. The dragging sound did not return, but silence no longer felt empty, it pulsed, as if the night itself was holding its breath.
“Are you okay?” Muyu murmured quietly.
Changhe didn’t answer at first. He kept his eyes locked on the road ahead, every sense keyed to the slightest shift in the environment. Only after several seconds did he exhale and say, with a voice steadier than his expression:
“I will be, once we’re out of these woods.”
They drove for another minute in heavy silence.
Then something thudded beneath the car.
The entire vehicle jolted violently, pitching forward before bouncing unevenly. The sound of metal scraping against gravel ripped through the air. The steering wheel jerked under Changhe’s hands.
Muyu instinctively braced himself against the dashboard.
“What was that?!”
Changhe cursed under his breath, trying to stabilize the vehicle as it lurched to one side.
The car shuddered twice, then slowed sharply on its own despite Changhe easing off the gas. A low grinding sound echoed from beneath the chassis, ugly, strained, final.
He tried accelerating. The engine roared. The car did not move.
“It hit something,” Changhe said, voice tight.
Muyu stared ahead, eyes combing through the darkness.
“There was nothing on the road.”
“I know,” Changhe replied, already unbuckling his seatbelt. “Which means it was placed there.”
That single sentence dropped like a stone in the silence between them. Muyu felt the cold tighten around his spine. He reached out, lightly gripping Changhe’s arm.
“Don’t get out yet.”
Changhe froze. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. The forest behind them remained still. Too still. Changhe glanced at him, something like pride flickering briefly in his eyes.
“I won’t go far. Just need to see the damage.”
But Muyu leaned closer, lowering his voice.
“Be careful.”
Changhe held his gaze for a moment longer than necessary. Then he nodded, slipped his fingers against Muyu’s cheek in a fleeting touch, and stepped out of the car.
The door closed with a muffled thud that seemed to vanish into the forest without echo.
Muyu stayed perfectly still, eyes scanning through the windshield. The headlights lit only the narrow stretch of road in front of them, no obstruction, no object, no movement. Yet the car had definitely hit something.
Changhe crouched near the front tire. His brows furrowed, and even from inside, Muyu saw the sharp tension in his posture.
“Muyu,” Changhe called quietly. “Turn the wheel slightly to the left.”
Muyu did as instructed.
Changhe cursed again, this time louder.
“What is it?” Muyu asked immediately.
Changhe rose to his feet, his expression dark. He walked back to the driver’s side and opened the door.
“We’re not going anywhere,” he said. “Something sliced straight through the tire wall. A clean cut. Almost surgical.”
Muyu’s blood went cold.
“Is it a trap?”
“Yes.” Changhe shut the door and locked it. “A narrow one. Placed exactly where we drove over.”
“Who would place a trap in the middle of the road?”, Muyu asked and looking at Changhe while he was getting back in the car, quietly sat beside Muyu.
The forest felt alive now, not with wind or wildlife, but with attention. Muyu could feel eyes on them, somewhere out in the dark, watching, measuring and waiting.
Changhe reached for his phone. No signal.
Muyu checked his too. Nothing.
The air around them is thickened.
“We need to think,” Changhe said softly, Muyu nodded.
“The house. The one you wanted to show me. How far is it?”
Changhe swallowed.
“Fifteen minutes by car if we’re still in the right direction, I guess”
“And walking?”
“An hour. Maybe less. The forest terrain could make it worse.”
Muyu exhaled.
“Walking at night in a place like this-”
“I know,” Changhe said. “But staying in the car isn’t safe either, especially when someone deliberately sets traps in the middle of the road”
The headlights flickered once. Changhe leaned forward, checking the dashboard.
Suddenly a violent impact slammed into the rear of the car.
Both men froze.
It was deliberate. Heavy. A force thrown from behind hard enough to make the chassis quake.
Changhe’s hand found Muyu’s without thinking, gripping tight. Muyu felt the instinct behind it, something feral and protective, sharpened by adrenaline.
Slowly, Changhe turned toward the back windshield.
There was nothing. Nothing except a slab of absolute black swallowing the world behind them. The headlights painted the road ahead in pale yellow, but behind them, the forest was a sealed mouth.
Then it came again. Not a thud, A strike. Something hurled straight at the trunk with such force the entire car shuddered.
Muyu’s pulse hammered painfully in his ribs.
Changhe reached into the pocket of his jacket and drew out his small secondary knife, it’s far too short to be useful against anything larger than a dog, but it was all they had.
He shifted his body, half turning to shield Muyu while reaching for the backlight switch. The moment the pale interior lights blinked on-
A steel axe flew out of the darkness.
It smashed into the window behind them with a sickening, teeth rattling crack. Tempered glass splintered like ice. Both of them dropped instinctively as shards exploded across the backseat.
“We’re not staying here,” Changhe said, voice steady in a way that only came from years of killing. “When I say go, we run into the trees. Understand?”
Muyu nodded, throat tight.
Changhe inhaled to count but the forest beat him to it.
A shape slid across the road ahead. Long, crooked, impossibly wide. It moved like a shadow peeling itself free from the tree line and stepping into the reach of their headlights slowly revealing something that was definitely not human.
Before Changhe could count, a long shadow slid into view across the road ahead.
Tall. Bent. Human shaped, but wrong in proportions. It moved slowly at first, stepping into the edge of the headlights.
Muyu’s breath stopped. Changhe’s eyes sharpened into something deadly despite the fear.
The shadow stood completely still. Watching them. Just watching.
Muyu whispered, barely audible:
“…Changhe.”
“I see it” Changhe murmured.
The headlights flickered again, dimming for half a second.
Then everything went black, the headlights died.
The darkness didn’t settle gently this time, it slammed into the car the instant the headlights died, swallowing the forest, the road, and all sense of direction in a single breath. One second the world was dim and strained, the next it was a void, thick and absolute, an emptiness so sudden Muyu felt his lungs tighten as if the air itself had vanished.
Before he could even speak, a sound erupted behind the silence.
A chainsaw that roaring awake with a violent, hungry shriek split the night wide open.
The noise rolled through the trees like a storm, rattling through Muyu’s ribs and vibrating the dead metal of the car. Changhe jerked upright, hand flying to the door handle, muscles coiled, expression sharpened by a kind of fear Muyu had never seen on him before.
Muyu snapped out of the shock and fumbled for his phone, turning on the flashlight, the screen flaring against the dark like a feeble, trembling flame. He turned on the flashlight, its narrow beam slicing through the black in a thin ribbon.
That was when they saw it.
Something massive moved directly in front of the car, a distorted silhouette, hunched and powerful, its proportions wrong in a way that made the human eye refuse to understand it.
The chainsaw lifted. Its blade glinted in the weak phone light.
Then it came down.
Metal screamed as the front of the car split open, the hood tearing apart like wet paper under the savage, grinding teeth of the blade. Sparks lit the void in frantic bursts. The chainsaw carved straight through steel, through wiring, through the very heart of the engine, leaving it sliced into two grotesque halves.
Muyu’s breath caught painfully in his chest.
Changhe had already yanked his door open, one hand gripping the knife, the other reaching instinctively for Muyu’s arm to pull him out, his voice sharp with urgency.
“Out. Now.”
Muyu moved, but instead of following Changhe immediately, his gaze flicked down to the floor by his feet. His backpack lay there, half- tucked under the seat, the straps tangled where he’d kicked it earlier.
Changhe saw the movement and swore under his breath.
“Leave it,” he snapped, already scanning the darkness beyond the open door. “We don’t have time.”
Muyu bent anyway, fingers closing around the strap.
“We do,” he said, breath quick but voice controlled in a way that cut through the panic. “There are supplies in here.”
Changhe turned sharply.
“Muyu-”
“Listen to me,” Muyu said, lifting the pack onto his shoulder in one practiced motion. “Water tablets. A flashlight. First aid. Emergency food. If we get lost in the forest, and we will if this thing keeps chasing us, we won’t survive the night without it.”
The chainsaw screamed again, closer this time, the sound vibrating through the car’s frame.
Changhe’s jaw tightened.
“It’ll slow you down.”
Muyu met his eyes, steady and unflinching despite the fear tightening his chest.
“Then I’ll throw it away. But if we need it and don’t have it, that’s worse.”
For half a second, Changhe hesitated, torn between instinct and reason, then he nodded once, sharp and decisive.
“Fine,” he said. “Stay close. If it slows you down, you drop it immediately. No arguments.”
“Agreed.”
Muyu tightened the strap across his chest, adjusted the weight automatically, and only then did he let Changhe pull him out of the car.
Cold air rushed over them, heavy with the smell of earth and oil and something rotten beneath it, and the moment their feet hit the ground, the chainsaw roared again, close enough now that Muyu could feel the vibration of it in his bones.
They ran. Leaves brushed their legs as they stumbled into the trees, the beam of Muyu’s phone shaking wildly against trunks and branches as they ran.
The chainsaw roared again, this time even closer, as if enraged that its prey was escaping.
They sprinted deeper into the dark.
But halfway across the clearing, Changhe pulled abruptly, trying to change direction toward the rear of the ruined car.
“Changhe, what are you doing?!” Muyu gasped, pulling back against him.
“The gun,” Changhe said sharply, eyes fixed on the trunk as if he could open it. “We can’t run without it. I can reach it- ”
“No!” Muyu grabbed his wrist with both hands, digging in with every ounce of strength he had. “You’ll never make it. He’s coming from that side, look!”
Changhe turned just in time to see the silhouette emerging from the left, the chainsaw dragging a long, jagged line in the dirt as it came. The monstrous shape leaned forward, legs twisted in unnatural angles, arms too long, shoulders stacked unevenly, moving with a crushing, brute force that made the trees tremble as it passed.
He was blocking the trunk completely.
Changhe inhaled sharply, his jaw clenching with realization.
Muyu’s voice was low, breathless, pleading but firm.
“If you go for it, you die. I won’t let you.”
It was rare for Muyu to speak like that, to use fear and clarity in the same breath, but it struck through Changhe like a nail. His grip on Muyu’s arm loosened, the fight draining from him just enough for instinct to take over again.
“Fine,” he breathed. “We run.”
The chainsaw roared again, louder, closer, ripping through branches as the massive figure barreled toward them with frightening momentum. Leaves exploded around them as they dashed through the forest, Muyu’s flashlight beam bouncing wildly through the undergrowth. The killer moved with a horrifying speed, his footsteps uneven but monstrously strong, ground shaking under each heavy stride.
Muyu could feel the sound of the chainsaw vibrating through his spine.
Changhe reached back, pushing Muyu ahead of him with one hand while keeping the knife in his other.
“Keep going,” he urged. “Don’t stop for anything.”
The ground dipped suddenly, but Muyu kept moving, lungs burning, legs screaming as he forced himself faster. The air smelled of soil and rust and something else, something sharp and iron heavy that stuck to the back of his throat.
Branches whipped their arms, leaves slashed across their faces, the ground uneven and treacherous beneath their boots. The chainsaw roared behind them in jagged bursts, cutting through the air with terrifying hunger.
Muyu stumbled once on a root, and Changhe caught him, pulling him forward without slowing.
“You okay?” Changhe demanded, breath ragged.
“Yes,” Muyu answered, but his eyes stayed sharp, calculating, searching for escape routes.
Then, through the dense wall of trees, Muyu saw it.
A house.
Its shape cut through the darkness like a lifeline thrown into a drowning sea, a two story structure with weathered wood, a slanted roof, a porch light flickering but alive, a window glowing faintly from within. Compared to the violent black of the forest, it was a miracle.
“Changhe!” Muyu choked out, stumbling forward with renewed strength. “There’s a house, there’s a house!”
Changhe lifted his head, saw it too, and something fierce sparked in his eyes.
“That’s your way out,” he said. “Run to it. I’ll buy you sometime”
Muyu felt the chainsaw gaining behind them, closer, closer, carving a path straight in their direction.
“I’m not leaving you,” Muyu said, his voice shaking even as his stride quickened.
“You are,” Changhe replied, pushing him hard toward the clearing. “You’re going to that door, and you’re going to live. That’s the only thing that matters.”
The monster crashed through a fallen log behind them, splintering wood in a violent crack. The chainsaw shrieked, its blade carving through the trunk as if it were nothing.
“I’ll call for help, please wait for me!”
Changhe turned sharply, placing himself between the killer and Muyu. He doesn’t know how to fight with the little knife he had, but he must fight, and win, he doesn't plan to die here right now.
“Go!” Changhe roared.
It wasn’t an order, it was a promise wrapped in desperation.
Muyu’s breath broke as he run like hell.
He sprinted across the clearing toward the porch, forcing every muscle to keep moving even as dread twisted through him like barbed wire. The chainsaw screamed again behind him, and Muyu didn’t know whether it was gaining on Changhe or carving into the ground or swinging through the air, but he knew Changhe was fighting, knew he was alone out there in the dark.
The porch steps rose in front of him.
He grabbed the railing, hauled himself up, and slammed his fist against the door with everything he had.
“Help!” Muyu shouted, voice cracking, “Someone! Please!!! Open the door!”
“Please!” Muyu pounded the door again, breath shaking. “Anyone-!!”
A shadow moved inside. A bolt slid. Someone approached.
And just as the door began to open, letting out a sliver of warm light, and behind him, the chainsaw shrieked as it struck Changhe’s knife.
A sound sharp enough to make his blood freeze.
He turned halfway, breath frozen in his chest.