"Devon, look what Mother got!" a cheerful voice called out.
It was a memory—soft around the edges, like a warm haze drifting through Devon's mind. The scene shimmered like sunlight behind closed eyes, casting a glow on a younger version of himself and his mother, Elise.
He had been just a small boy then—barely up to her waist, all wide eyes and skinny arms.
'Even though we weren't rich or that well off, we had each other... or some cringy line like that,' Devon thought with a hint of sarcasm as the memory played in his head.
The image sharpened: Devon, freshly twelve years old, standing in a dimly lit living room with peeling wallpaper and mismatched furniture. Elise was smiling, her face glowing with a quiet pride as she held out a shirt. It was faded, clearly second-hand, with the word PRIVATE emblazoned across the front in bold lettering. A silhouette of a saluting soldier stood behind the letters.
Despite its worn condition, Devon had stared at it like it was treasure.
"Mom," the younger Devon had said.
"Yes, Devy?" Elise responded with a bright smile.
"Why don't we celebrate your birthday?" he asked innocently.
Elise chuckled softly and sat down, patting her lap. Devon climbed into it without hesitation, curling between her legs like a kitten seeking comfort.
"That's because Devon's birthday is more important than Mom's," Elise said as she brushed back his hair.
"Well... I don't want to celebrate my birthday without celebrating yours," little Devon replied stubbornly.
Elise blinked, surprised by the depth in her son's voice. Her eyes widened slightly, struck by how thoughtful he sounded for a child.
She leaned forward and kissed his forehead gently.
"To me, Devon is more important than my birthday. Why have a single day for myself, when I can share every day with you?" Elise said with a warm smile, the memory now beginning to blur into soft hues and fading light.
'Even after that, Mother still celebrated my birthday every year… even when I came home from college,' Devon reflected as he lay on his back in bed. His work tie hung loosely around his neck, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar. One arm lay draped over his eyes, the other stretched up toward the ceiling as if trying to grasp something just beyond reach.
He remembered that kiss—the warmth of her lips on his forehead. That memory clung to him like a fading perfume.
He slowly exhaled and let sleep pull him under.
…Two Weeks Later…
The office was alive with the hum of early morning activity. Keyboards clicked, printers churned, and coworkers sipped coffee while exchanging light-hearted complaints about deadlines. Devon was at his desk, staring blankly at his screen, when the intercom crackled to life overhead.
The speaker let out a low-pitched, guttural hum.
"Testing, testing. Can everyone hear me?" a deep voice rang through the building.
People glanced around, confused. Murmurs rippled through the office like wind through grass.
"Let's play a game… Well, three games, to be exact."The voice was casual—too casual. It carried a strange, joyous tone that immediately put people on edge.
"Is this a prank?" someone whispered nearby, uneasy.
'No, this isn't a prank,' Devon thought grimly.'How could someone unfamiliar get into the broadcasting room? It's right beside the electrical and security control rooms…' His eyes scanned the floor—no unfamiliar faces. Just coworkers frozen in confusion.
'I should keep this information to myself,' he decided.
The intercom buzzed again.
"First game… A classic we all loved—Hide and Seek!"The voice sounded downright gleeful now."There's an armed, masked person on every floor—twelve in total. All you have to do is survive for two hours."
As those words dropped, so did the lights. Every office light in the building shut off at once, plunging the space into a murky darkness. Only the occasional flicker from monitors and emergency exit signs illuminated the room.
"Is this a prank?! Where's security to solve thi—"
The man didn't get to finish. A scream cut through the dark.
"Ahhh!"It was a woman's voice—sharp and panicked.
People rushed to the sound, including Devon. They found a man lying against a wall, bloodied and barely conscious. His uniform bore the insignia of the building's security staff. Whatever had attacked him, it hadn't held back.
Panic spread like wildfire.
'It seems what that person on the intercom said was true… It's better to find a hiding spot,' Devon thought calmly, despite the chaos.
His mind ticked.
'If there are 12 masked assailants… how can there be one on every floor when this is a 13-floor building?''I should check the upper floors.'
From across the room, a familiar voice cut through the panic.
"Everyone, calm down!" shouted Section Chief Wook."The elevators might not be working, but we can go down the stairs and call for help once we exit the building!"
Devon ignored him and moved toward the stairwell—upward.
"Devon! We should stay together, especially during these times!" Chief Wook called out.
Devon didn't stop. He didn't even turn around.
"He's probably scared to the point that he doesn't know what's good for him," came Ben's voice, condescending as always.
'Hmph. Can't say I didn't warn him,' Chief Wook thought bitterly, watching Devon disappear into the stairwell.
"Anyone else want to follow Devon?" Wook asked the group, but no hands rose.
"Good. We should move fast before the situation gets worse than it already is."
Meanwhile…
Devon's footsteps echoed softly in the stairwell.
'This could be my chance to take out the people who've been annoying me…'His thoughts drifted into dark possibilities.'However… it's not the best time to throw away bait before knowing what kind of fish I'm dealing with.'
He sighed.
"I'm currently on the 7th floor… on my way to the 8th…"
"Is this truly how it feels to have a 9-5"Devon continued.
"Is this truly how it feels to have a 9-to-5?"His voice was low, nearly a whisper, the bitterness curling in his chest like smoke.