Jiyeon

Couldn’t this have arrived a day later when she was feeling like shit and coping hard?

Bona sprawled across her bed, the creaky mattress sinking under her weight, its faded floral sheets tangling around her legs. Her phone’s blue glow cast a light across the room and her face, each doomscroll painting her face with a smile—until it began to feel like too much.

The air hung heavy, thick with the humid scent of cardboard from the unpacked boxes teetering in the corner that she should’ve done already. The dim light of her new apartment at least comforted her. Outside, the city’s distant sounds almost made her want to open a window–there’s some party across the street, barely audible through the yellow-checkered curtains that swayed faintly.

A sharp knock sliced through the silence and her mind, rattling the door. Jiyeong froze, her thumb hovering over the screen and closing Kakao—the last message of her friend group two hours ago.

Suspicion prickled her skin—it was stupidly out of place. No deliveries. No neighbors in this new complex. Her pulse quickened, a dull throb against the oppressive quiet. Okay, ignore that. A whole month had passed in this ghost-town building, and nothing had happened. Probably fine. Right? She’s literally alone in the building.

The knocking grew insistent, now paired with the shrill ding-ding of her doorbell, each chime stabbing into her nerves. Bona’s breath hitched, her chest tightening as her mind spiraled, wild and unmoored. The room seemed to warp—the yellow-checkered curtains bled into a sickly blue and their entire movement set changed to some sort of… breathing if that was even possible, their patterns twisting like veins.

The pale pink walls pulsed, becoming more and more green—deepening to a nauseating emerald green, the paint seeming to drip onto the floor in big drops that ended in crops. Boxes toppled in her vision, spinning in a chaotic whirl around her. The air crackled, electric and wrong, tasting of ozone and dust.

What the fucking hell.

Her limbs felt alien, heavy as stone, yet somehow not hers, as if the room itself had claimed them. She clutched the sheets, their texture grounding her as the world snapped back in—curtains yellow again, walls pink, boxes still onto its corner. The knocking pounded louder, relentless. The air turned sour, contaminated with an unpeaceable rot, urging her to move, to run. It also became ungodly purple, and like… like glue.

She stumbled toward the door, her slippers slapping against the scratched hardwood, filled with green ugly crops, her heart screaming louder than the knocks that now were in the back of her head. Damned be the noise. She was manic, the world tilting, her lungs burning for something purer than this stifling room.

Oh.

The door swung open, revealing not a person, but a creature on the discolored welcome mat. A hare! its fur gleaming frosty-white under the tingling hallway light, stared up at her.

Its eyes burned a vivid purple, amethysts glinting with unsettling insight. The surrounding air sparkled, heavy with a strange, flowered chemical sweetness that clashed with the hallway’s old moss.

This is fucking stupid, Bona thought, her heart hammering so hard it echoed in her skull.

She was hypnotized, caught in the hare’s gaze, its eyes pulling her into a violet abyss. Then, one paw darted forward, impossibly fast, brushing the tip of her shoe. The touch sparked a jolt, and the world exploded.

Darkness swallowed her, a pitch-black void that roared like a collapsing building, debris and sound crashing over her in waves. The blackness splintered into stars—cosmic, pulsating stars—then erupted into a kaleidoscope of neon, colors so vivid they seared her eyes. Pinks, greens, and purples bled together, swirling like clouds of glow, the air bubbling with ozone.

Her eyes fluttered open, then shut, then open again, unable to see for a few seconds.

Air flooded her lungs, sharp and lush, tasting of dew, moist leaves and wildflowers. She was no longer in her apartment but kneeling on a carpet of grass tickling her skin. The sky above blazed with an unnatural glowing aurora, ribbons of neon twisting against a velvet afternoon sky. The ground thrummed faintly, alive, and she trembled. it’s… WARM?!

Instead of a hare, a girl stood beside her, her presence radiating warmth. Her eyes mirrored the hare’s—bright purple, glowing softly in the strange light. Her flowing dress, an old-fashioned gown of silver and blues, seemed to drift exactly like water, catching the aurora’s hues. The ambient’s air smelled so not-like ozone and acid, soothing Bona’s frayed nerves.

Her voice was harmonious, a melody that snapped Bona out of her daze. “Welcome, Bona, we have been waiting for you!”

Who the hell was we?

Beside the girl, she finally noticed, another figure loomed—indescribable, like a fever dream given form. Their silhouette flickered, edges blurring into the neon landscape.

The world around Jiyeon was… well, all she could name it similar was to Wonderland: trees with pink leaves moving in the breeze, branches dripping with glowing neon orbs. Streams of liquid starlight carved through the grass-like semblance of the tree trunk, their surfaces reflecting the aurora’s colors. Jiyeon felt like she just went through a cocaine high or some sort of acid trip.

Maybe she shouldn’t have stayed up late watching Inuyasha.

“Welcome! Uh, did I make you feel too hard?” the girl said, her voice sweet as honey, ethereal and soft, like a lullaby. “My name is Chengxiao! Ignore {{user}}, by the way. Fix on me now, okay? Need your attention here.”

Cheng… Chengxiao? Her online friend? The one who’d helped her pick her apartment?! Jiyeon looked at the girl up and down like she’s the crazy one and not the one with the stupid white hair and purple eyes, The gown was unmistakable—the same one Chengxiao had sent her a photo of all the way from China, down to the delicate lace trim in silver, now alien-colored by the reflection of all the ambience.

Jiyeon’s head spun, “What the FU—” Chengxiao’s hand darted to Bona’s mouth, soft but firm, silencing her scream.

The touch was okay, somewhat grounding, yet it carried the sensation of bay smell before a tsunami. “Welcome to your country! We were waiting for the last zodiac queen! Right, right, {{user}}?!”

Queen of where, or what?

What is wrong with me? I’ve never done drugs!