Troll

‌⁠♡⁩ TL: Khadija SK

 

✧✧✧✧✧

 

“Yes, got it. But keep an eye out a bit longer, just in case she’s still inside. Also, send me a photo.”

 

As soon as the call ended, Andy received a photo via message. It was a picture of a woman stepping out of a taxi. The small, star-shaped piercing on her cheek stood out noticeably. She was one of the women who had entered the hotel yesterday.

 

For years, there hadn’t been any disappearances at this party. However, several had been carried out dead due to drug overdoses.

 

If not that, there were women who, in exchange for satisfying the participants, received the luxury of an additional day in a comfortable hotel room. Andy sank into his chair, hoping it was the latter.

 

“What else is left to do now…?”

 

Since Chief Inspector Howard had personally warned him, he needed to tread carefully while tailing the young gentlemen for the time being.

 

“I have to meet William Evans.”

 

He picked up his phone again and pressed a saved number. After a few rings, the call was answered by a nurse from the hospital.

 

“This is Detective Andy Haywood.”

 

“…Ah, Detective.”

 

Had she just woken up? The nurse, who had fiercely scolded him at the hospital for kicking out a patient, sounded strangely subdued.

 

“Has Ms. Jin-ah Troll left?”

 

“Yes. She left quite a while ago.”

 

“Anything else? Any other visitors, perhaps…?”

 

“No, nothing.”

 

Unlike her earlier drowsy tone, the nurse replied immediately, as if she had prepared the answer in advance.

 

“Understood. Then, until next time.”

 

After the brief call ended, Andy lay back down. He considered going back to visit today, but his body refused to budge.

 

‘Not like I’d get a warm reception anyway.’

 

William Evans seemed distrustful of the police. If that was the case, it was better to meet him later in a more composed setting rather than forcing it now.

 

Andy closed his eyes. Beyond the office door, the ornaments on a cheap Christmas tree glittered under the fluorescent light. Faintly, electronic carols could be heard in the background. He hummed along to the tune for a while before dozing off.

 

<Silent night, holy night. All is calm, all is bright…>

 

His flickering consciousness cut off even the lyrics.

 

As he listened to the final verse, his mind sank into a deep sleep.

 

<Sleep in heavenly peace…>

 

***

 

A luxury car glided down the road, heading north after swiftly exiting the bustling streets of London.

 

The car passed Angel and Camden, ascending Hampstead Hill. The streets, once lined with shops, gradually transitioned into neat, well-kept residential neighborhoods.

 

Every house had a Christmas wreath hanging on its door, and stores were adorned with festive decorations.

 

Among the people walking along the streets, many wore red outfits or playful Santa hats, celebrating what is often considered the most special time of the year.

 

The bustling night would last until today. Starting tomorrow, it would be Christmas proper. As the car passed Swiss Cottage Station, a large sign reading “Aylesford” gleamed atop a nearby building. People were leaving the supermarket housed in that building, laden with goods for the Christmas season.

 

The car ascended a hill and circled past Hampstead Heath, one of the largest parks in the north.

 

Eventually, it turned onto a street where the houses were completely different from those seen so far—long fences surrounded them.

 

The car stopped in front of a house with an especially high fence. The guards at the gate lowered the barricade blocking the entrance as soon as they verified the vehicle.

 

Though it wasn’t a government building, the heavy security made sense when people learned it belonged to the Aylesford family.

 

Even without the high fences, the lush, dense trees surrounding the estate perfectly obscured it from outside view. The car continued onward, eventually arriving at a grand mansion perched atop what could almost be called a small hill.

 

The Aylesford family owned additional estates in Chelsea and Wimbledon, but the chairman cherished this mansion the most.

 

He allowed access only to himself and his only grandson.

 

The car came to a stop, and the secretary opened the door. Though referred to as a secretary, the individual was essentially the butler of the house.

 

As Ian stepped out of the car, the workers nearby stepped back slightly and bowed their heads.

 

Such excessive displays of formality seemed out of place in modern times, but the chairman had imposed strict etiquette on everyone. Surprisingly, there were no complaints. They were compensated handsomely for their lowered gazes.

 

Once Ian passed, the tension on the women’s faces eased.

 

“He’s been staying in this mansion a lot lately.”

 

“Yeah, ever since that incident.”

 

“True. At least the chairman’s in a good mood because of it. At first, he acted like he was going to kill everyone, but now that his grandson’s fine and behaving himself, he’s been returning to the mansion on time like clockwork. He really dotes on him.”

 

“Isn’t it understandable, though? Having such a delinquent grandson suddenly turn over a new leaf must be a relief. It’s good for us, too.”

 

“That’s true.”

 

A wry smile appeared on the employees’ faces.

 

Ian Aylesford was infamous in their circles as an uncontrollable troublemaker.

 

Yet, perhaps out of fear of his grandfather, who held all the power, Ian didn’t stay at the Hampstead Heath mansion but instead resided in the Chelsea estate.

 

The house, situated in the middle of an affluent neighborhood, was the perfect place for the unruly young master to stay. After several repeated incidents, the chairman deliberately replaced the younger female staff at the mansion with older workers. While this reduced the chaos within the estate, Ian began bringing women from outside instead.

 

One of the Chelsea staff’s key duties was to wake up and escort the women out of Ian’s bedroom after he had passed out drunk.

 

However, after an accident in Scotland that claimed the life of a friend he had been partying with, Ian returned home and seemed to have turned over a new leaf.

 

“Do you think he’ll keep staying here?”

 

“Probably. He went to the Chelsea estate with the secretary but came back, saying the stench there was unbearable. Apparently, the staff managing the Chelsea property got all the blame for it.”

 

“Was it just the Chelsea staff? There were people on our side who got into trouble too.”

 

“Oh, right, the kitchen team.”

 

The women clicked their tongues sympathetically.

 

“He suddenly became picky about food, refusing to eat and putting down his fork. No wonder the chairman ordered a complete overhaul. He used to eat whatever was served without much fuss—what’s with the sudden change?”

 

Still, dealing with a picky eater was far preferable. Compared to the ticking time bomb he used to be, always on the verge of causing chaos, a fussy rich kid was much easier to manage.

 

“Anyway, I heard they’ll replace everyone after the year ends.”

 

“At least they’ll get their Christmas bonuses before they leave. That’s something.”

 

As the staff chatted and descended the stairs, Ian entered his room.

 

His room was vast, with interconnected chambers large enough to be considered a separate wing. Inside, he removed his coat and stood in front of a mirror.

 

His neatly combed light blonde hair, deep eye sockets, and striking blue eyes made him every bit the handsome heir to the Aylesford family. It was no wonder the chairman doted on him so much. If Ian had been less outwardly perfect, perhaps the chairman would have given up on him more easily. But with such an enviable appearance—flawless if he just kept his mouth shut—the chairman was determined to “fix” him.

 

Ian’s face reflected various expressions in the mirror. He smiled brightly, frowned deeply, and suddenly burst into tears before going completely blank again.

 

After cycling through a few more expressions, he abruptly stuck his hand into his mouth. His fingers rummaged around his throat before pulling something out—a small, star-shaped piercing.

 

He examined the piercing, turning it over in his hand, then opened his desk drawer and placed it in a small tray inside.

 

“Didn’t notice because I was in such a hurry to eat,” he muttered, wearing the expression of someone finding a fishbone in what they thought was a perfectly deboned fillet.

 

He sank into the plush sofa, stretching out his body.

 

It was the first time in a while he felt full. Of course, the hunger would return soon enough, but for now, he wanted to savor this pleasant sensation.

 

From the moment Richard told him about Jeremy’s party, he knew it would be the perfect place to sate his hunger. That night, there would be plenty of unprotected women.

 

Women who would disappear without anyone looking for them.

 

Those were the kind of humans he needed.

 

The human females entered. At first, they seemed to be chosen selectively, but as time passed, they all became mixed together.

 

That was when he made his move, seeking out something edible. Someone without the pungent smell of drugs Jeremy had been carrying—just the scent of alcohol.

 

In his haste, he grabbed her hand and dragged her into a room. The woman laughed, saying that if her companion were as handsome as he was, she should be the one paying him.

 

He shut the door and pulled her toward the bathtub, turning on the shower.

 

“This is your thing? Not bad, I guess,” she joked.

 

That became her final words. He opened his mouth and devoured everything.

 

A long time later, he emerged alone. No one noticed the discrepancy in numbers between those who entered and those who left the room. The 14th floor was already a scene of utter chaos.

 

He closed his eyes. Though he did not need sleep, he deliberately stayed still like this for hours. He had to move like a human if he wanted to maintain the illusion. It was the only way to keep his true nature hidden.

 

With his eyes closed, he thought of William Evans, whom he had visited earlier in the day. A thin male, but one who seemed to promise decent flavor.

 

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered, sending the human greeting to someone far away.

 

***

 

At the same time, a man jumped from the hospital rooftop.

 

Police rushed to the scene and cordoned off the area with crime scene tape. A nurse from the hospital, shaken and teary-eyed at the gruesome event on the eve of a sacred day, responded to the officers.

 

“Yes, the deceased is William Evans, who was a patient here.”

 

✧✧✧✧✧

 

I’m really curious to see how Ian will develop human emotions … Tbh It’s hard to imagine, especially since he’s portrayed as a complete psychopath in this chapter—no emotions, no sympathy (⁠─⁠.⁠─⁠|⁠|⁠）

I also feel so bad for William, and I sincerely hope Jin-ah will be safe … Since Ian is the only one on the novel’s cover, I can’t help but hope that the story ends with her being safe and well~

+++ I truly apologize if I made any mistakes while translating this chapter (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) Neither Korean nor English is my native language, and I’m not very familiar with London’s streets ⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙

This chapter was a bit tricky with the street names and descriptions, so I hope I managed to get them right.

I also hope you have a wonderful holiday season, with Christmas just around the corner. May it be filled with joy, love, and warmth. Take some time to relax and enjoy yourself. Stay safe, happy, and surrounded by good people. Wishing you all the best, and thank you so much for your support!

With love: Khadija ‌⁠♡⁩