I became an arsonist who suffocated six people with poisonous gas overnight.

Perhaps it was the shock. She hadn't gone out for days, and even the threatening phone calls she always made at 10pm had stopped. If Baek Sa-eon's plan was to intimidate the perpetrator, it was a resounding success.

When "voice-altered threats" started trending on search engines, even her appetite disappeared.

How did I become the voice of an arsonist?

The more she thought about it, the more unfair, absurd and infuriating it felt.

Not wanting to dwell on that morning any longer, or sink further into helplessness, Heeju decided to go outside for the first time in a while.

It was a superficial wish, but she wanted to do something meaningful for once.

But there is only one place I can go... the sign language interpreting centre.

As she entered, she almost collided with Director Han Joon, who was rushing out with a serious expression on his face.

As always, he was dressed in a fluorescent Hawaiian shirt and gold necklace - a far cry from the subdued attire he often instructed sign language interpreters to wear.

"My dear! Hallelujah!"

Seeing his saviour, Han Joon exclaimed, "You came at the right time! Can you please do me a favour?"
"What is it?

She freed her hand from his grip and asked in sign language.

"We have a sudden no-show today and there's no one else to fill in."

The director's furrowed brow revealed his predicament.

"For what position?

Han Joon led them to the Call Relay Service Centre, a facility that provides real-time communication assistance for the hearing impaired. Operators bridged language barriers by translating speech, text and sign language.

"Just remember, if it's a voice-based task, pass it on to someone else and only do what you're comfortable with. Just one hour - just one hour, I swear!"

He clasped his hands and begged with exaggerated fervour.

"This favourite of yours will repay you a hundredfold!"

Heeju scratched her neck. She was unimpressed by his theatrics. Sensing her reluctance, Han Joon doubled down on his flattery.

"I've been attending workshops at the National Institute of the Korean Language lately. We've been having heated debates about how to interpret the lyrics of Kariba, the American singer. The lyrics are... a bit..."

Tiredness briefly clouded his face.

The songs were all so provocative...

When Heeju stared at him, he waved his hand dismissively.

"Not something to discuss in front of a child like you."
"I'm not a kid.
"Sure, sure," he said, tapping her on the top of the head.

"Anyway, there's a concert coming up and they want sign language interpreters. I was going to recommend you, since you're fluent in English and would be perfect for interpreting the artist's speeches."

At his words, Heeju suddenly remembered Baek Sa-eon's suggestion. An interpreter assigned to the Blue House, he had said.

She licked her lips without realising it.

"So please, just this once! One hour!"

Before she could answer, Han Joon stormed off. Left with no choice, Heeju greeted her colleagues and reluctantly put on a headset.

I've known him since I was nine.

Han Joon had been a lively, playful twenty-something when she first met him. Over time, they had developed an unspoken camaraderie, while her marriage to Baek Sa-eon remained as good as nothing.

"Ugh..."

The memory of Baek Sa-eon's hand gripping her thigh suddenly resurfaced, making her instinctively stiffen.

Why am I even thinking about him?

She slapped her cheeks and concentrated again.

Soon the phone began to ring.

She answered call after call, efficiently relaying messages for everything from casual chats to enquiries with government departments and financial institutions. She was so absorbed in her work that time passed unnoticed.

Suddenly, as she stretched her arms, a video call came through.

A video call? Sure.

This would involve sign language via a live video feed. Heeju confidently clicked the call button.

And then -

"Wow..."

The screen filled with a bright, endless sky, so clear it seemed surreal.

The video wobbled slightly before the caller's face appeared. It was a man with dishevelled locks swaying in the breeze.

"Hello..."

Heeju's hands froze mid-sign as her spine stiffened.

A broad grin stretched across the man's face, making his face look unnatural.

"Hey, sis. How have you been?"
"...!"

The face was both unfamiliar and disturbingly familiar. Heeju felt nauseous at the close-up view of his face.

"Ahh..."

Her attempt to scream came out as a choked gasp.

"Long time no see!"
"...!"
"Oh, right... How's my phone? Are you still using it?"

A wave of shock washed over her, making her hands shake uncontrollably.

Why was he here? How? Hadn't he disappeared after failing that day?

"I know this place. The Call Relay Centre. Can you help me make a call?"
"..."
"I also want to call someone - your husband. Baek Sa-eon. Can you connect me? Baek Sa-eon. That b*stard, Baek Sa-eeooon!"
"...!"

The haunting memory of the rain hitting her face washed over her like a phantom pain. Her chest tightened and her breathing became ragged.

"You helped me before, didn't you? You stood up for me. Huh? Why don't you call? Why, why, why...?"

He slammed his phone against his forehead, causing the screen to shake violently.

"I'm on your side, sis!"

Heeju's face turned deathly pale. Her frantic fingers fumbled for the power button under the desk.

"I even started a fire for you. Did a good job, didn't I?"

Heeju froze in horror.

"Didn't I do well? Tell me?"

He smiled, seeking praise, but the sinister glint in his eyes was unmistakable.

"People... got hurt..."

For the first time, Heeju spoke without caring who might hear. Her voice, hoarse and cracking, barely escaped her lips.

"It would have been better if everyone had just died."

The dirty, erratic tone from before was completely gone.

With the clear blue sky behind him, the man's smile seemed almost innocent.

"How dare that b*stard ignore my calls through you, huh?"

Wasn't the phone she had picked up that day supposed to help her? Wasn't it supposed to be the object that rescued her from this suffocating existence?

"Sis, keep calling him. Keep doing it."

What had she picked up that day?

"You will continue to be my voice."

Is this even close to what she had imagined?

"You will be my messenger."

A strange feeling of despair overcame Heeju.

"Just like you want to hear someone say the word 'divorce', I want to hear something."

The man swayed in and out of the camera frame like a child on a swing.

"There are words I'm dying to hear."

He smiled broadly.

"Keep using the phone, sis. Until you get the divorce sorted. I mean, I have to pay for borrowing your voice, don't I? If Baek Sa-eon loses everything, that works for me. But in return..."

The screen swayed back and forth, confusing her like a pendulum.

"Make sure you get the words I want to hear."

At first, his request seemed incomprehensible. But she sensed something sinister.

There was something terribly wrong with his seemingly innocent request. A wave of raw emotion washed over her, her fists clenched tightly, a silent testament to her helplessness.

Then, as if waking from a trance, Heeju suddenly rose from her chair.

"Wait, is that...?"

Her voice trembled as it escaped her throat.

"W-where are you right now?"

At her question, the man brushed his fingers over the camera lens.

The previously clear screen suddenly turned red. The vivid, metallic smell of blood seemed to permeate even the screen.

"...!"

Spreading his hand wide, he smiled like a morning glory in full bloom. While his palm was completely drenched in bright crimson blood.

"You understand, don't you, sis? Once you start, you have to see it through to the end."

Heeju ripped off her headset and stormed out of the room.

Her colleagues in the communication centre glanced at her, but their attention soon faded.

Just then, Director Han Joon returned from his errands.

"H- Heeju! Huh? Hey! Where are you going?" he called after her, but she didn't turn around.

Something was terribly, irreparably wrong.

The kidnapper's last words echoed in her head like nails being hammered in.

"Otherwise you will lose everything."

 

***

 

"Agh... Ugh..."

Even outside, Heeju could hear her father moaning.

She pushed her way through the crowd to where her father was surrounded by police. The first thing she noticed was the bright red sheet.

The carer, recognising her, was pacing nervously.

"I... I had to call the police..."

Blood stains on her father's lips, neck and hospital gown stood out, almost like smears of red paint.

Heeju's knees buckled and she almost collapsed on the spot.