The Seventh Member

The first thing Min-Seo noticed about lockdown was how loud silence could be. From the small apartment she rented in Wellington, she could hear things she had never noticed. Before- the ticking of the kitchen clock, the hum of the refrigerator, rain tapping against the window, even the occasional footsteps of someone walking alone on the pavement below. But there were almost no voices. New Zealand was under lockdown. The streets of Wellington were nearly empty. Shoes were closed. Cafes were pulling down their shutters. People stayed inside their homes, speaking to friends and family through glowing screens. Min-Seo had arrived in New Zealand two years earlier to study fashion design. Now with her university closed and the classes moved online, her world had shrunk to one apartment, one laptop, and the daily ritual of looking through the window. Then, one rainy Wednesday evening, she received an email. There was no subject. Only six words. You are the seventh member. Min-Seo stared at the screen. She checked the sender. There was no name, only an unfamiliar address. She deleted the email. Five minutes later, another email arrived. Do not delete this one. Her heart began beating faster. She closed the laptop. For several minutes, she was completely still. Then curiosity defeated fear. She opened it again. There was an attachment. A photograph. It showed seven people standing inside a dark room. Six faces had been blurred. The seventh person was different. Her face was clear. It was Min-seo. She pushed her chair backwards so violently that it struck the wall. No, she had never seen the photo before. She zoomed in. Behind the seven people was a circular symbol painted on the wall- a black circle crossed by seven thin lines. Under the photograph was a message. Tonight 11.47 pm. Mount Victoria Lookout. Min- seo laugh nervously. It had to be a prank. Nobody was supposed to be wandering around during lockdown without a legitimate reason. She decided to go. At 11.40 pm, someone knocked on her apartment door. Three slow knocks. Min-Seo froze. No one was supposed to visit. She approached the door without making a sound. Another three knocks. She looked through the peephole. The hallway was empty. When she opened the door, there was no one there. Only one envelope lay on the floor. Her name was written on the envelope. Her name was written on it. Min-Seo. Inside was a small brass key. And a handwritten sentence. If you don’t come, the sixth member will disappear. Min-Seo called the police. The line connected, but before she could explain everything, her phone suddenly lost signal. The electricity flickered. Then the apartment went dark. For several seconds, she stood in complete darkness. When the light returned, the envelope was gone. So was the key. At midnight, Min-Seo found herself standing near Mount Victoria. She didn’t know why she had come. Perhaps fear had brought her. Perhaps curiosity. Or perhaps the photograph had awakened something inside her that she couldn’t explain. The lookout deserted. Wind moved through the trees. Then she heard footsteps. A woman appeared from behind the trees. She was wearing a black coat and a white mask. You came, the woman said. Who are you? The sixth member. Min Seo stepped back. The woman removed her mask. She was young, perhaps twenty-five. I am Veleria. Veleria what. Veleria doesn’t matter. Min-Seo stared at him. What is this? Veleria looked towards the city. Have you ever wondered why some people seem to know what is going to happen before it happens? Min-Seo said nothing. During the lockdown, Veleria continued that six people received a message. Each message continued with information that hadn’t become public yet. What information? Deaths disappeared, hospitals closed, government announcement. Min-Seo’s face went pale. You are saying someone predicted them. No. Veleria lowered her voice. Someone caused them. A cold wind passed between them. Min-Seo shook her head. That doesn’t make sense. It didn’t matter to us either. Us? The seven. Veleria pointed towards the city. Six of us were brought together before the lockdown. We called ourselves the Circle. We were told we were protecting people. From what? The future. Min-Seo stared at her. Veleria continued. We were given information about events before they happened. We thought we were stopping disaster. Then we discovered the truth. What truth? The Circle doesn’t predict the future. She pause. It creates it. Veleria led Min-Seo to an abandoned building. Inside, a narrow staircase descended beneath the ground. At the bottom was a room filled with photographs, newspaper clippings, and computer screens. Six photographs were pinned to the wall. Veleria pointed to them. Five members are here. Min-Seo counted. There are only five photographs. Where is the sixth? Veleria looked at her. That is why we were trying to discover. Min-Seo suddenly understood. The email said the sixth member disappeared. Veleria nodded. He disappeared three days ago. Who? Klaus. She pointed towards a space on the wall. Klaus was the first person who discovered what the Circle really was. Min-Seo walked closer. On the desk was a notebook. She opened it. The final page contained one sentence. The seventh member will remember what the other forgets. Min-Seo's hands trembled. I don’t understand. Veleria stared at her. You should. Why? Because you were here before. Min-Seo stopped breathing. What? Veleria opened a drawer and pulled out another photograph. It showed seven children standing inside a lake. One of them was a young Korean girl. Min-Seo stared at the picture. She knew the other children. But none of it should have been possible. That photograph was taken fifteen years ago, Veleria whispered. Min-Seo's voice barely came up. I have never been here. Veleria shook her head. You were six. Min-Seo looked again. The girl in the photograph was wearing that same small silver pendant Min-Seo had won throughout her childhood. A memory suddenly struck her. Rain. A wooden house. Seven children sitting around a table. A man speaking. When the seventh returned, everything began again. Min-Seo dropped the photograph. She remembered. The circle had not been created during the lockdown. It had existed for years. The pandemic had merely brought its secret to the surface. The seven children were once part of a strange experiment conducted by a private research group. Six children were forgotten. Min_Seo had not. Her memories were deliberately suppressed. Klaus had discovered the truth and tried to expose the organisation. That was why he had disappeared. Min-Seo looked at Veleria. Where is Klaus? Before Veleria could answer, every screen in the room turned on simultaneously. A man’s appeared. His face looked exhausted. If you are watching this he said then Min-Seo has returned. Veleria stepped closer to the screen.Klaus. His voice continued. The Circle was never predicting the future. It was about controlling people through fear. The lockdown gave the perfect opportunity. Min-Seo’s stomach tightened. What do they want? Klaus looked directly into the camera. They want the seventh member because only she remembers the original experiment. The screen flickered. Klaus’s final words were barely audible. Min-Seo doesn’t trust the other six. The screen went blank. Veleria turned towards her. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Min-Seo noticed something. Veleria was holding a small black device. The same symbol from the photograph was glowing on it. You lie to me Min-Seo, whispered. Veleria’s expression changed. I had to. Where is Klaus? Veleria stepped backward. He is alive. Where? Somewhere you can’t find him. The building suddenly filled with the sound of an alarm. Veleria looked terrified. They know you are here. Who? She pointed towards the staircase. Everyone. Footsteps echoed above them. One. Two. Then many. Min-Seo grabbed the notebook. Veleria seized her hand. Run. They raced through a narrow passage beneath the building as footsteps thundered behind them. When they finally emerged outside, Wellington was silent. Rain fell across the empty streets. The lockdown continued. But Min-Seo no longer felt trapped. She looked at the notebook in her hands. On its final page, beneath Klaus’s message, another sentence had appeared. She was certain it hadn’t been there before. There were never seven members. Below it was another line. There were eight. Min-Seo looked at Veleria. Veleria was staring at her in horror. What’s wrong? Min-Seo asked. Veleria whispered. Because of the eighth member. She looked towards the dark windows of the city. Is the one controlling us. Somewhere in Wellington, a phone began to ring. Once.Twice. And seven times. Min-Seo reached into her pocket. Her own phone was ringing. The screen displayed a number she had never seen before. She answered. No one answered. Then a familiar voice whispered. Welcome back, Min-Seo. The call ended. And for the first time since lockdown began, Min-Seo understood something terrifying. The world outside wasn’t empty. It was watching. And the seventh member had finally remembered.