The alarm clock exploded with a shrill beep-beep-beep! that yanked Hana Park out of a dream about running from… something. She couldn't remember what. Just the weight of shadows pressing down on her chest, the sound of chains rattling in the dark, and a voice whispering right against her ear:
Your debt begins now.
Hana's eyes snapped open. She sat up too quickly, got tangled in her blanket, and rolled right off the bed.
THUD.
"Ughhhh," she groaned, sprawled across the floor like a crime scene outline. "Great. Another glamorous morning in the life of Hana Park."
Her hair was sticking out in every possible direction, like she had lost a fight with a lawn mower. One sock was missing, the other was halfway off her foot. She crawled to the bathroom, only to slam her elbow against the doorframe on the way in.
"OW—okay, universe, I get it. I'm awake!"
Ten minutes later, Hana shuffled downstairs, still brushing her hair with one hand while the other tried to balance a piece of toast between her teeth.
Her mom sat at the counter scrolling through her phone, coffee steaming beside her. Without looking up, she said flatly, "You were screaming again."
Hana froze mid-chew. "Wait. What?"
"In your sleep. Like you were being murdered. Second night in a row."
Hana forced a laugh, waving it off with her half-broken brush. "Pfft, no way. I probably just… stubbed my toe in my dream or something."
Her mom finally looked up, unimpressed. "Your dream must have a personal vendetta against your toes."
Before Hana could come up with a comeback, her phone buzzed on the counter. A text from Lucas lit up the screen.
Lucas: Morning, Hana Banana 🍌 You late yet?
Hana groaned. "Of course he knows."
She shoved the rest of her toast in her mouth, snatched her bag, and bolted for the door.
---
Lucas was waiting by the gate, leaning against his bike with his usual smug grin. He was tall, annoyingly athletic, with messy brown hair that somehow looked good no matter what.
"Told you," he said, smirking as she jogged up, panting. "You're late. Again."
"I'm not late," Hana argued, cheeks puffed out with toast. "I'm fashionably… delayed."
Lucas shook his head. "You're impossible."
"And yet, you keep waiting for me." She poked him in the arm, grinning. "Suspicious."
His ears turned faintly red, but he rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's go before we actually are late."
As they rode toward school, Hana's mind drifted back to the dream. The whispers. The chains. That phrase—Your debt begins now. She shivered and hugged her bag tighter.
"Hana?" Lucas glanced at her. "You okay? You've been zoning out."
"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Just didn't sleep well."
"You sure? You look kinda pale."
She stuck her tongue out at him. "Wow. Thanks. Exactly the confidence boost I needed this morning."
That finally made him laugh. "There's the Hana I know."
---
School was the usual chaos—students yelling across the halls, lockers slamming, a thousand different conversations tangled together. Hana dumped her bag on her desk and collapsed into her chair like a wilted plant.
That was when she noticed him.
At the far side of the room, a boy she'd never seen before sat perfectly still, his gaze fixed out the window. His uniform was immaculate, his posture too straight, too disciplined, like he'd been carved out of stone. His eyes—sharp, pale, unreadable—flicked briefly toward her.
For a moment, Hana forgot to breathe.
"Whoa," she muttered under her breath.
She leaned toward her best friend, Mina, whispering, "Hey, new guy alert. Who's tall, dark, and terrifying over there?"
Mina smirked without looking up from her compact mirror. "Ethan Cho. Transfer student. Rumor says he's from some elite academy in Seoul. Top of his class, probably secretly a prince or something."
"Or a vampire," Hana whispered back.
Ethan's eyes flicked toward her again—just for a second. But Hana could've sworn she saw the faintest smirk tug at the corner of his lips.
---
By the last period, Hana's energy was completely drained. She doodled half-asleep in her notebook, her head bobbing dangerously close to the desk.
Her pen slipped. Without thinking, her hand scrawled something across the page.
The Ledger accepts you.
Hana blinked. Her stomach twisted. She hadn't meant to write that.
The words shimmered faintly—like glowing ink—before fading back into her usual messy handwriting.
"What the—" she whispered.
Nobody else seemed to notice. The classroom buzzed as normal. Ethan was still staring out the window like a broody statue. Mina was snapping selfies.
Hana slammed her notebook shut, heart hammering.
When the bell rang, she shoved her things into her bag and practically sprinted out.
"Hana!" Lucas caught up, grabbing her shoulder. "Hey, slow down! What's with you?"
"I—nothing. Just hungry."
Before he could reply, the hallway lights flickered. A low buzz filled the air, like static crawling under the skin.
Students murmured, glancing around nervously. Then—
CRASH!
A window shattered.
Glass rained down as everyone screamed and ducked for cover.
Hana froze. Because crawling out of the broken window wasn't a person.
It was something else.
Its body was stretched and shadowy, faceless, its arms too long, fingers tapering into knife-like claws. Strange words glowed faintly across its skin, the same shifting letters she had seen in her dream.
The creature's head snapped toward her.
And in a hundred whispering voices, it said:
"Hana Park."
Her blood ran cold.
---