Cold that was locked. Two colliding sides mixed. Suffering and pleasure.
At the highest peak of the school building. The brutal cruelty of children's behavior unfolded.
A devil crawled among them. Savoring the pain of its prey.
The victim of the bullying had already bled too much.
Dirt on her clothes filled with footprints. Blood flowed from the corner of her lips. Her disheveled hair did not elicit an ounce of pity from the pack of devils in front of her.
The girl trembled violently. Not from the cursing cold of the night. Every day had been the same. It had been nearly a year. But today was different.
The devil's hunted rabbit tried to bare its teeth. Tonight, she would fight them all.
"You bastards… you're not human!"
Her scream broke, hoarse and fragile, but forced out with desperation.
A punch landed. The world blurred.
Her shoulder hit the concrete. A trail of blood was left there. Another piece of evidence.
They swarmed her. Laughing louder like an audience in a comedy theater. But there was nothing funny here.
A camera was raised, a blinding flash in the victim's eyes.
They were filming again. Savoring the power of demeaning others.
"Hahaha… Maharani, you think you're great? You coward."
That voice pierced everyone's ears. Including Maharani. The highest peak of the devil.
She was the queen here.
The queen watched from her chair. A thin smile appeared. Everyone around her went silent, waiting for the queen's action. The leader of their bullying group.
Maharani stood. Her footsteps echoed along the floor.
"Coward?" Maharani grabbed his collar, her voice low and sharp.
"Know your place before you speak."
She turned to a boy with a cigarette. "Your smoke—get rid of it."
Shamefully, the cigarette was extinguished. Power shifted through a small, cruel gesture.
"Back to you." Maharani's gaze was piercing.
"You're just a coward. If I were you, I would fight everyone who bothered me. I would take revenge, create justice for myself..."
"Fight who? Your gang?"
The victim's voice broke but was firm. Her body was bruised, but a thin thread of courage held her fear at bay.
She stood up.
The words that had been locked up now broke free, honest and raw. There was nothing left to lose.
But that courage was meaningless. The pack of devils looked at each other again. An order from the queen.
Finish her.
The camera lit up again, the red dot recording. Fists slammed. Heels pressed on ribs. Laughter and screams turned the cruelty into a chaotic party.
Then the party stopped.
With her last ounce of strength, the victim pushed, broke through, and ran. Her steps were wobbly, but every stride was an act of defiance.
She reached the boundary fence, her palms resting on the cold iron.
Her breath exhaled in rough puffs.
The city stretched out below, lights flickering like a chasm of light. For a moment, a bitter sense of victory emerged.
She turned, her lips curled into a dangerous smile.
"My life is ruined because of you, Maharani. The family who abandoned me. My friends who distanced themselves. Now my life is no more than a corpse."
Maharani's eyes narrowed.
"What are you doing?"
"You told me to fight. Do you know my life? You won't understand. A child who grew up with a loving, conglomerate family, what do you know? Have you ever…" Suddenly, the voice hung. Her hollow eyes, which had given up on life, spoke again. "Hahaha... what am I saying?"
Her voice trembled, but her accusation was sharp. Anger strengthened her.
"I thought I had to live to defeat you. But for what? It's better to die. Remember this, my death is your fault. All of your faults. I will never forgive you."
Her smile was bitter, a mix of victory and surrender. Then she stepped back.
Time slowed.
Maharani reached out, her fingers gripping the small wrist. For a moment, it seemed she was saving her. But the pull was in the wrong direction. The weight of the body shifted. Both of them were thrown.
The victim's smile turned wild, almost ecstatic. She whispered—softly, quickly—like a curse, like a prayer. The air on Maharani's skin shivered with cold.
Then—darkness.
Not ordinary darkness. Without light, without sound. The world seemed to vanish, forcibly pulled from her grasp. Her body floated, dragged into an uncertain dimension.
Maharani tried to grab something—anything. But even the air refused to welcome her.
Cold. So piercing, as if the world was cursing her.
Suddenly, her body slammed down again.
From the deep darkness, a faint light slowly emerged. Dim, vague, but enough to reveal that—
This world felt alien.
[Where am I?]
There was no answer.
[Is this hell?]
There was no fire.
[Wait, it seems I'm lying on a bed. Am I in a hospital?]
But Maharani knew, there was no smell of medicine here.
[My fingers… my hands are moving on their own.]
[I want to run. I want to escape from here. I… I want to save her. I don't want to be a murderer. But wait, is she dead? Damn it.]
[White hair? Am I old? My body is strange, too. My life? What about my life?]
Various thoughts raced through her small head.
But one thing was certain.
Maharani could not control her own body.
When her eyes opened, an alien world welcomed her.
Faint yellow light pierced through thin curtains. Her hands clutched a crumpled blanket, gray hair peeking out from beneath it.
A cramped room. Cracked walls. Ancient decorations on the ceiling. The smell of candles and dust. Her own breath sounded alien.
She tried to move. Her body felt loose, her skin thin. Panic surged. Her voice was small, not like her own.
The school roof was gone.
The city was gone.
In a cramped, European-style room, the cold bully realized—she was trapped. She was no longer herself. Trapped in a body and a history that were not her own.
The realization was a piercing cold.
This new world was full of rules, old wounds, and unresolved revenge.
And now, the queen of bullying was trapped in the cold, suffocating night.