Chapter 43 - Silk Cocoon
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Angela and Gael looked into each other's eyes and were quiet for a moment. She waited for his response and his brow slightly twitched when her words rang in his head again. Then, she squeezed her eyes shut when he did something that she never expected him to do.
He flicked her forehead.
"Aw!" Her hand flew up to rub the spot and her mouth hung open as she stared wide-eyed at him. "Did you just flick me?!"
He suppressed a smile and hardened his expression. He couldn't believe himself either. "I heard that same phrase three years ago. Then I landed on your porn book."
Angela gasped. "Hey! It isn't a porn book, okay? It's a romance novel!" She pouted, rolling her eyes at him. "I just... happen to write adult content in it."
'Our adult content,' he thought. "Mhmm… Suuuuuuurrre…" he teased, finding that it was fun to annoy her, then he earned a glare.
"I'm not talking about that." She quickly got over it and her expression went back to eagerness as she turned to face him again. "I mean a story… like any urban legends or stuff like that that you know of."
Gael thought about it and wondered how she found those stuff interesting. He wasn't much into stories. Though he could read books if there was a need and even watch movies when he had time, but he never thought this would interest him. Come to think of it, he didn't think he had a lot of interests. Compared to Angela, she seemed to know what she really liked. He liked exercising… Would that count?
When his thoughts brought him back to earth, he questioned, "You want me to tell you a scary story? Are you serious?"
Angela nodded. She was really looking forward to it.
His gaze fell on her bottom lip when she bit it in anticipation. And he wondered what it would taste like if he was the one biting it. Oh, who was he kidding? He could still remember how she tasted.
Clearing his throat, he looked away. "But I don't really know any…"
"Oh, come on! Don't tell me that ever since you were young, you haven't heard any stories at all—or maybe even experienced one? I'm sure you have…"
Gael brought his gaze back at her, his mind already recalling if he did know a story or two. "You really want me to tell you a scary story?" She only nodded, staring back at him and looking expectant. "Okay then... If you say so... But this is quite scary, so don't go complaining later."
"Wait!" Angela held a hand up in front of him.
He watched when she unabashedly—without his permission—grabbed one of his pillows and his blanket. Then she made herself comfortable in his bed as she laid down, covered her body with his blanket—she ended up looking like a silk cocoon with only her head sticking out. It was like watching a child getting ready for her bedtime story.
Maybe he should just tell her the story about The Handsome Prince & The Witch?
When she was finally satisfied wrapping herself like a burrito—she felt safe like this—she looked at him with a serious expression and nodded, "Okay, you may start."
Gael had to stop himself from interjecting and saying 'awww', so he briefly closed his eyes and composed himself. This woman surely has so many facets.
Turning to face her, he propped himself on his elbow and began telling her the story, "Alright. I heard about this story when I visited South Korea several years ago. I was told that there were many versions of it but I'll just tell you how it was told to me."
Angela shifted as she nodded and brought the blanket up to cover her head and half of her face. Now, only her eyes and forehead could be seen.
He couldn't believe he'd find himself telling this urban legend to her in the middle of the night while there was a fûcking thunderstorm outside. It was the perfect backdrop to what he was just about to tell her.
"This happened in the 1970s or 80s—actually, I don't know. Anyway, there was a young woman in her twenties who got off work and headed home. She lived in an apartment building with fourteen floors. It was nearly eleven in the evening when she arrived in the building. Obviously, she'd take the elevators to her floor and when she pushed the button, the doors opened right away. She was happy, of course, because she didn't have to wait."
Angela's creative gears churned in her head. Even when he only used limited descriptions, she was able to vividly imagine the whole thing happening in her mind. It was as though she was watching a movie playing in front of her and Gael was narrating it—though he could use more descriptions. This was how her brain usually worked. And in an instant, she had put her focus in the story—and immersed as it unfolded.
"So she got inside and pushed the button to close the door. However… Just as the doors were about to close, a hand suddenly reached in to stop the door…" He paused for a few beats for dramatic effect and he wondered if she was nervous.
Angela swallowed, her mind was already filled with so many assumptions on what could happen next. Was it a ghost? Was it someone the young woman knew? She waited until he continued.
"When the doors opened, a handsome young man entered and she gaped as soon as she saw his face. He was so good-looking that she immediately had a crush on him. 'What floor are you going to?' he asked, in which she answered, '14'. He laughed a little as he reached for the panel and told her, 'I live on the 13th floor'. The woman was surprised to know that they lived just one floor apart but she hadn't seen him even once—and she lived in the building for a few years already."
Angela gasped and couldn't help herself, so she asked, "Was he a ghost then? How come she hadn't seen him before?!" Her voice was muffled as it was covered with the blanket that she clutched tightly as if doing so would make her feel less scared.
Gael only shrugged, not wanting to spoil her, so he continued with his story. "The ride to the top floors was quiet and the woman was nervous as they ascended. When the elevator finally arrived at the 13th floor and the man stepped out, she felt sad thinking that she might not see him again. She was hoping for the man to ask for her number or maybe ask her out or something…"
She whimpered when he took another pause, the tension building up inside her was eating her up. "Oh my god… Was there even a 13th floor?!"
Holding himself back from reacting, Gael carried on with the rest of the story, "Before the man stepped out of the elevator, he smiled at her saying, 'I hope to see you again'. Then, he started walking. However, just before the elevator closed, he turned around and his expression suddenly turned evil as he looked back at her. He pulled out a knife from his coat… And there was a demonic smile on his face as he told her, 'I'll see you upstairs'. Then he began laughing like a madman while he waved the knife." His voice turned low, matching the horrifying story he just told her.
The horror on her face was indescribable. She suppressed a sharp screech and stuck her hand out, slapping him on the arm. "Hey!"
"Aw!" He rubbed the sore spot. "What the hell was that for?"
"That was scary!!!"
"What—You said you wanted a scary story!"
She sniffed, feeling the chill run down her spine when she could still visualize the man from the story in her mind. "It doesn't mean I wouldn't be scared! Oh, god. How will I ride elevators from now on?!"
Gael huffed, staring at the silk cocoon who insisted that he tell her a scary story—in the end, he got hit on the arm. This time, he no longer held himself back when he barked out a loud laugh.
"Weirdo," he muttered.
"No, you!" she scoffed as she playfully pushed him.