It was a quiet night.
A raven, darker than the moonless sky, took off from a telephone pole and flew against the cold winds.
It flapped its wings and glided uncannily, climbing to higher altitudes.
It circled around a rather glossy high-rise residential building.
After a few circles, it landed on the balcony of a dark room on the 27th floor.
It was the property of Weisin Conglorate.
The raven cocked and tilted its head, peering inside through the window.
The room was in utter disarray.
A woman’s belongings, from jewelry to classy gowns, were spread around.
In the middle of the room, a most disturbing pattern was drawn in a red liquid—a goat’s head surrounded by an inverted pentagram.
Each point of the star had a red-hooded figure standing over it, their faces entirely covered in the darkness of the cowl.
In the middle of the pattern was a naked woman, the entirety of her body covered in red markings.
Her lifeless gaze was stuck on the bloodied floor.
Any semblance of lucidity had been squeezed out of her as she continued to stare into the nothingness.
Stood behind her was another hooded man, this one frailer than the rest.
In his hand was a bowl full of blood.
He dipped his fingers in it and scattered it around the woman. The rest he spilled over her head.
Her long hair, tracing an aging figure, soaked the red.
The man muttered sothing, followed by the chanting of the rest of the followers.
He held the woman’s head back, turning her gaze to the ceiling.
Producing a serrated blade, he stabbed her through her left breast.
As the blade pushed inside, with great resistance from the flesh but none from the woman, her body quivered.
It trembled and shook as her head hit the floor.
The shock made her convulse, but her eyes were just as unfocused as when they started.
The blood from her wound flowed and travelled through the pattern drawn on the floor.
As the followers collected and sipped on the fresh blood, the raven took flight, dropping a single feather on the balcony.
The creature, who had been watching through its eyes, chuckled.
To him, cruelty was just another form of entertainnt.
And while enjoying the warmth of his pool of lava, he wondered about the future of a certain actor.
"There is so much fun to be had in the human world."
***
Yun-Ha was lying on her stomach, her feet hitting against the wall adjoining the bed.
"This is torture," she sighed.
In her hands was a smartphone with a cracked screen.
"Why won’t they buy a new one?"
It was because of her own fault that caused the destruction of her phone.
One night, while scouring the internet for Quinn haters, she had co across a post passionately criticizing her favorite actor.
Unlike a sane person, she chose to comnt under it, politely pointing out where and how the post was wrong.
Expecting an easy win, she pumped her fists, but the hater wasn’t a casual one either.
Their hate wasn’t sothing to be trifled with, and Yun-Ha learned that the hard way.
The battle of insults, flawed logic, and curses that began lasted the entire night.
Its effects could be felt across the internet as small skirmishes broke out here and there, culminating in an online war that saw Averie’s fans pitted against his most loyal haters.
It was a conflict on the biblical level.
If it were any other celebrity, such a thing would not have occurred. But as recorded since his debut, the man was divisive, to say the least.
The trolls on the internet nad it the ’Quinn’s Gambit.’
To their eyes, it was a beautiful event, where two annoying sides took equal losses.
At one point, it got so heated that Yun-Ha ended up smashing her phone against the desk.
She regretted it right away, but the damage was already done.
No matter how much she pleaded, her parents refused to buy her a new one.
’Earn so money and replace the screen,’ was what they said.
She turned to her sister, but she wasn’t any better. She replied five hours later with a picture of Averie and her enjoying ice cream together.
- Ice cream is cold, but he is hot.
That was all she wrote.
It pissed her little sisted so much, she ended up smashing her phone again.
As if a headache from the lack of sleep wasn’t enough, when she arrived at school that day, she found so jealous boys making fun of her actor.
It was enough reason to start a gender war in the class. Even so poor nerds were dragged into it, made to fight proxy wars.
Yun-Ha sighed.
Just recalling all that was exhausting.
"Yun-Ha, are you still not asleep?" ca the voice of her mother from beyond the closed door.
"I am sleeping!"
"Go to sleep! You have school tomorrow. You don’t want to turn out like your sister, do you?"
"Don’t scare , Mom; I’m going to sleep!"
She turned off the lights and covered herself in blankets.
The AQuinn forum was the last place she visited before going to sleep every night, and tonight was no different.
One of the post titles caught her eye.
’Just a thought: Is everything okay with the Quinn?’
The post seed to be getting a lot of attention, perhaps because it hit every fan’s worry.
Yun-Ha read the post.
Since The Quinn’s entry into the entertainnt world, the industry and the fans took it for granted that he would have a long and prosperous career.
It may sound silly to soone who knows a lot more about actors and such, but that was genuinely the popular opinion.
But ever since his role as Asmodeus Binfeld, which rightfully made his na known throughout Asia, he hasn’t taken up any major roles.
Why is that?
I may be overreacting, and I understand if that is the opinion of the rest of the fanbase, but the way I see it, it is unusual.
It is concerning.
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