Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hyun-su wasn’t sure when it all had changed.

He’d spent many a night without sleep, terrified that the moment he closed his eyes the monster inside him would dredge up those old memories, the days of blood and bruises and razor-sharp words. Its laugh echoed in his mind every time he gasped himself awake, every time he regained control of himself to be met with bloody hands and broken bones. And every time, it asked, cruel and mocking; What do you desire, Hyun-su?

He could connect the dots, alright? He knew the only thing keeping him himself, keeping him human, was that he had no desire; at least, no desire that the curse could fulfill. He’d had no plans, no goals, just a date on a calendar and a heavy sense of finality in his chest. He’d never expected to live this long.

It would be so easy to step into a monster’s path, to yell and wave his arms until some creature came to kill him. Some days, he even wanted to. But by God, he couldn’t make himself do it, couldn’t push past that terrible desperation to survive, and sometimes that’s what scared him worst of all; that he had doomed himself to live in a world beyond saving, unable to even take the easy way out.

He’d almost done it, one day. Had snuck up to the roof, electrified with fear, pressing himself to the walls and dodging monsters floor by floor. He’d nearly collapsed once he reached the rooftop, heart hammering, breaths rocketing in and out of his chest. Holy fuck, he’d thought, I’m alive.

Alive.

He’d looked out over the rooftop, at the desecrated city below, and he’d known in an instant that he couldn’t do it. Not with the way adrenaline still zipped through his veins, the way his heart hammered away in his chest.

Alive.

Alive.

Alive.

And in that terrible moment, he knew.

What do you desire, Hyun-su?

The only thing he wanted was to survive.

~~~

Exhaling a long plume of smoke, Sangwook stubbed out the last vestiges of his cigarette on the railing of the fire escape. The dull clang of footsteps rang out from the stairs below as he fished a fresh one from his jacket pocket.

“Hey,” greeted Eun-yu, claiming the space on his left. She snatched his lighter out of his hand just as he went to light his cigarette; his sigh was taut with irritation. She smiled serenely, and with a flick of the ignition, lit up a cigarette of her own.

“Thanks,” she said, placing the lighter back in his hand.

“Get your own,” Sangwook grumbled. The glow of the flame flickered over his face, the rapid descent of the sun casting shadows over the fire escape. The two were silent for a moment, Eun-yu leaning with her back against the railing, Sangwook staring out over the empty city. Smoke curled in the air between them.

“Have you seen Hyun-su?” Eun-yu asked.

“Why would I?”

“Thought he might come through here on his way back.” Frowning, Eun-yu took a drag from her cigarette. “He’s late.”

“Maybe he’s avoiding you,” deadpanned Sangwook. Eun-yu smacked his shoulder, hard.

“You’re such an asshole, I’m being serious! He’s always back before dark.”

“And?” Sangwook flicked ashes over the edge of the railing, watching them flutter down. “Lots of weird stuff up there. He probably just got held up.” Eun-yu grumbled under her breath but didn’t reply.

They were up there for about 10 minutes, Eun-yu shifting her feet with pent-up energy and Sangwook steadily smoking his way through a pack, before a rushed clatter of footsteps on metal had them both glancing upward. Hyun-su bolted down the stairs so fast it was a miracle he didn’t trip, spilling out onto the fire escape with blood splattered across his face and panting like a dying man.

“Hey,” said Sangwook. Doubled over with his hands on his knees, Hyun-su gave him a deer-in-the-headlights look. Sangwook nudged Eun-yu. “Happy?” She rolled her eyes and shoved him.

“You were sure in a hurry,” she said. “Should we be running?” Eyes squeezed shut, Hyun-su shook his head.

“Left it behind,” he gasped. “It won’t go past the tenth floor.” Eun-yu offered him a cigarette; he waved her off.

“You’re late,” she said, tucking the cigarette back into her pocket. “Trouble?”

“No more so than usual.”

It was quiet for a while as Hyun-su caught his breath. He leaned up against the railing with his full weight, looking out over the broken city. His gaze drifted emptily down to the 8-story drop below.

“Don’t jump,” Eun-yu commented. A look of immediate regret crossed her face.

“Hey,” warned Sangwook, pointing his cigarette at her. “Uncalled for.”

“It wouldn’t matter anyways,” muttered Hyun-su. His eyes had gone black. “Can’t die like that. Not anymore.” He kicked a twig over the edge, watched it fall. As quickly as it came, the black in his eyes was gone again. “I’d better go.”

Eun-yu and Sangwook watched him leave, their eyes remaining fixed on the stairwell long after he disappeared into its shadows. The sound of his footsteps slowly faded out; the air hung still and quiet around them.

“That was weird,” muttered Eun-yu.

“Was it?” Sangwook asked. “He’s pretty much always like that.”

“No, not the—not him being depressed!” Eun-yu threw a cigarette butt at him. “The eyes! I thought he only got the black eyes while fighting.” Sangwook grunted, but despite her expectant look, he had no response; she threw her hands up in the air and turned to follow after Hyun-su. “Don’t know why I even bother to fucking talk to you.”

Behind them, the sun’s last rays burned deep and red against the darkening sky.

Chapter Text

It was no secret to Sangwook that Hyun-su had not known love in a long while. It was clear in his stance, the way he shrunk himself down even when no one was watching, limbs drawn in and back hunched no matter the time of day. It was clear in the way he spoke, soft and muted like he was trying not to draw attention to himself, eyes downcast and expression empty. It was clear in the way he inched away whenever someone stood too close, fearing even the smallest human contact. Hyun-su carried himself as if his very touch was toxic, always so, so careful to avoid poisoning those around him.

Where Hyun-su was quiet and reserved, Eun-yu was loud and brash, full of teenage angst and bitter sarcasm. For a while Sangwook had wondered what could have happened to put all that anger in her, young as she was; then he found out that her parents were dead, and it all started to make sense. She was so much like he’d been at that age, fresh out of the fire and spitting with rage, all sharp edges and sharper words. Sometimes Sangwook looked at her and saw the face of the girl he couldn’t save; sometimes he saw himself. So yes, at some point he’d slipped up, let himself become accustomed to this kid who followed him around like a particularly foul-mouthed duckling. But that was it, he swore, he wouldn’t let himself be bogged down by any more attachments.

It was Eun-yu’s fault, the little shit.

“I thought you wanted to go for a smoke,” said Sangwook as Eun-yu dragged him towards the arcade. “Why are we here?”

“Hyun-su is coming with us,” she replied. A bobby pin clutched between two fingers, she went to work on the lock.

“Does Hyun-su know this?” asked Sangwook. Eun-yu shot him an irritated look.

“Do you want to find out what’s going on with him or not?” The lock clicked open, and Eun-yu swung the door open victoriously. “Hyun-su! Get up, we need your help!”

“What?” Hyun-su shot upright on the shitty pallet he called a bed. “Why, what’s going on?”

“No time to explain, just come on!” Eun-yu was out the door again before Hyun-su was even on his feet; Sangwook hurried to catch up.

“What the hell are you doing?” he whispered.

“You think he’d come out of there for anything less than an emergency?” she retorted. “Don’t you dare tell him.”

.

.

.

“You lied to me,” said Hyun-su.

“Yep,” replied Eun-yu without a trace of remorse. The look Hyun-su gave her was that of a kicked puppy.

“Why would you do that?”

“How else am I supposed to hang out with you? Eun-hyeok almost locked me in the arcade last time, I’m not having a repeat of that.” Sangwook snorted, then tried to disguise it as a cough. Eun-yu glared at him.

“You could have just asked me,” said Hyun-su.

“Would you have said yes?” countered Eun-yu. Hyun-su opened his mouth to reply, then paused and frowned to himself. Eun-yu shot Sangwook a triumphant look; he rolled his eyes, leaning back against the railing and taking a drag from his cigarette. Hyun-su regarded him nervously.

“And… why are you here?” he asked hesitantly.

“So she can steal my lighter and blame me if anything goes wrong,” grunted Sangwook. Eun-yu stuck her tongue out at him. Nudging Hyun-su, she leaned dangerously far over the railing and pointed towards something in the distance.

“Look, you can see the bridge from here,” she said. “What highway do you think that is?”

“Expressway 29,” answered Sangwook. There was no response; he glanced over to see them both staring at him. “What?”

“Why the fuck do you know that?” Eun-yu demanded.

“Because I’m old enough to drive, you little shit.”

“Oh, fuck off!”

~ ~ ~

A few days passed before Hyun-su heard the lock to his cell rattle again, accompanied by the muttered swears of a teenage girl.

“Not again,” he complained as Eun-yu entered, Sangwook hanging back in the doorway looking like he had been coerced into coming along. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”

“Grow up, Hyun-su,” scoffed Eun-yu, grabbing him by the sleeve and dragging him outside. “We’re not kids anymore.” The look on Sangwook’s face suggested he didn’t agree.

Despite feeling like a kid out past curfew, terrified that around every corner they would run into one of the other survivors, Hyun-su had to admit the view from the 8^th floor was nice. The city lay dark and lifeless below, lit only by the fiery hues of the setting sun, its brilliant reds and oranges reflected by the river in the distance. It was quiet, just the gentle sigh of the wind and the occasional flick of a lighter, the monsters outside having long since returned to whatever nooks and crannies they called home. Even the monster inside him was silent, gazing out over the horizon through his eyes.

He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this, missed people. Hyun-su spent his days running from monsters like a prey animal, and his nights locked away from the other survivors, safe but terribly alone. And he was tired, tired of being a monster among humans and a human among monsters, with no true place of his own. But this, this moment of quiet and peace within the maelstrom of his life, out in the open air with the only two people who weren’t afraid of him? Maybe he could have this one thing.

And so the three of them stood in comfortable silence, no monsters, no humans, just them and the slow darkening of the night sky.

Chapter Text

It became routine, the three of them meeting up on the 8^th floor. Hyun-su would join Eun-yu and Sangwook on the fire escape after his patrols, backpack heavy with scavenged supplies, clinging to what time he could still claim as his own outside of the arcade. He was never the first to speak, content to sit in silence if that’s what the evening called for; Eun-yu was the only real talker among them. Sometimes she would pester Hyun-su with questions about the monsters on the upper floors; other times she was more subdued, sitting next to him on the metal grate with a cigarette between her fingers and a sullen look on her face. Hyun-su learned not to ask, not after the last time she snapped at him and muttered something derogatory about her brother.

Sangwook wasn’t so easy to read, leaning into the same corner of the railing every time, rarely speaking other than to jab back after one of Eun-yu’s witty remarks. But there was an attentiveness to him that betrayed his air of indifference, always faced towards the door leading into the building, poised and ready for a monster to appear, summoned by Eun-yu’s raucous voice or the smell of smoke. Not that one ever would; monsters steered clear of the 8^th floor. Hyun-su still wasn’t sure why.

The monster inside him found it all quite hilarious.

Hyun-su has friends, it crooned mockingly. Hope these ones don’t make you try to kill yourself. Hyun-su felt nauseous thinking about it, Sangwook or Eun-yu in place of Do-Hyun, all cruel smiles and shoes digging into cracked ribs. The monster laughed. Only a matter of time.

“Fuck off,” Hyun-su muttered to himself as he dug through someone’s kitchen cabinets.

Afraid of the truth? taunted the monster.

“It’s not the truth. You’re a liar, we both know that.” Hyun-su tucked a bag of dry pasta into his backpack, cringing at the crinkle of plastic.

‘We,’ it scoffed. I’m a part of you, no amount of denial will change that. It fell silent; the spark of adrenaline that lit up Hyun-su’s chest felt foreign, like it belonged to someone else. Something’s coming.

“What?” Sure enough, his earbuds began ringing; he yanked them out and held his breath. Faint footsteps shuffled out in the hallway. The creature rasped something that might have been words; Hyun-su waited until the stumbling footsteps faded into silence, and then some.

“How the hell did you know that?” he demanded.

If you weren’t so useless, you’d have noticed it too, the monster bit back. Try paying attention for once. Hyun-su gave an exasperated sigh.

“You know, you could be really helpful if you weren’t such an asshole.”

The monster did not dignify him with a response.

~ ~ ~

Stop. Hyun-su froze, one foot on the stairs leading down from the 9^th floor. Don’t go down there.

“Why?” asked Hyun-su. “There’s never anything on the 8^th floor.” He peeked over the railing of the stairs; his body jerked back without his permission. “Hey! What’s your problem?”

Do NOT go down there! hissed the monster. Its voice was unusually tight.

“Are you… scared?” Hyun-su asked in bewilderment. The monster didn’t respond. “Holy shit, you are!”

I’m not! it snapped. Just… find another way down!

“The next staircase is halfway across the building,” Hyun-su pointed out. “And unlike down there, this floor is not empty.” He looked over the edge of the stairwell again; nothing but shadows and cobwebs. He could feel the monster’s nervous energy crackling in the back of his brain; slowly, carefully, he took a step down.

What the hell is wrong with you!? screeched the monster loud enough to make him wince.

“Shut up,” he whispered, “I’m trying to hear!” Begrudgingly, it quieted; Hyun-su strained his ears. Nothing but silence. He dared take another near-soundless step.

When by the fifth step nothing had leapt out of the darkness to kill him, some of Hyun-su’s confidence trickled back. He moved a bit faster, each step quick but careful, despite the monster’s palpable frustration. He set foot on the 8^th floor and let out a relieved breath.

“See? I told you, there’s never anything—”

Movement flickered in the shadows of the stairwell. Hyun-su froze, eyes going wide. “…down…here.”

Whatever it was, it was tall. All he could see were its eyes, yellow and slit-pupiled, hanging high enough in the darkness that he had to crane his neck to meet their piercing gaze. It stared down at him in much the same way a hawk regards a mouse, but with something much worse than hunger in its eyes. Hyun-su’s blood ran cold.

It shifted, and he caught a glimpse of something in the half-light; something tall and thin, the line of its back broken up by spikes, a flash of teeth and a narrowing of the eyes.

Hyun-su ran.

The thing howled behind him, loud enough to rattle the teeth in his skull. Blood rushing in his ears, footsteps thumping carelessly loud on the tile, he didn’t dare stop, bolting all the way to the west side of the building. He burst out onto the fire escape, slammed the door shut behind him, and pressed his back to it. Sangwook cursed and dropped his cigarette; Eun-yu startled and scrabbled for her knife.

“Hyun-su?” she cried. He shushed her and pressed his ear to the door, struggling to hear past the frantic beating of his heart and the breath rocketing in and out of his chest. Sangwook and Eun-yu watched in tense silence.

Nothing.

Hyun-su collapsed to the floor in relief.

“It didn’t follow me,” he panted. “Thank fuck.”

“Christ, kid,” Sangwook swore, leaning back against the railing with a hand to his heart. “What the hell was that?”

“Stay away from the north side,” Hyun-su said, in lieu of answering. “Fuck. I could have died.”

You are the stupidest piece of shit I’ve ever met, fumed the monster. Hyun-su waved it off breathlessly, met with looks of confusion from Eun-yu and Sangwook.

“Wait, you came from inside,” Eun-yu realized. “I thought there were no monsters on this floor.” Hyun-su was too exhausted to prevent the monster from grabbing control.

“Well, now we know why!” it spat in his voice. “Wonder who could have seen this one coming!” It caught Sangwook staring, alarmed, and glared back at him with black eyes. “What!?”

“You good, kid?” Sangwook asked with an unusual amount of care. Hyun-su yanked control back from the monster, the anger instantly dropping from his face.

“Ugh, yeah. Sorry.” Hyun-su rubbed his eyes. “Long day.”

“Yeah, we can tell,” said Eun-yu with a trace of a laugh in her voice. She sat down next to him and wedged herself up under his arm; he stiffened and looked at her in surprise, not daring to move the arm that now rested over her shoulders. “You owe me emotional support now, for scaring the shit out of me. So, what did it look like?”

With no small amount of confusion, Hyun-su began to explain.

Chapter Text

From the front desk of the shop, Sangwook watched with distaste as Byeoung-il downed another bottle of cheap beer. He smiled nervously and waved; Sangwook did not respond.

“Damn, why is he only on my case?” muttered Byeoung-il. Then, louder: “It’s a shame to see it go to waste, isn’t it? Plus, we need the bottles, so…”

“You’re so immature,” scoffed Hye-in. Byeoung-il shot her an affronted look, but she was too busy pouring ethanol into the empty bottles to notice. Sangwook sighed and buried his face in his hands.

“When do you think Hyun-su will be back?” came Seungwan’s timid voice.

“I don’t know,” said Hye-in offhandedly. “He’s late today.” She paused, looking up from her work; a bit of alcohol dribbled to the floor. “Do you think something happened to him?”

“You know he doesn’t die,” Jae-hwan replied. “Even if he gets hurt, he gets better after a nap.” Something sour curled in Sangwook’s gut, and he was struck by the sudden urge to chuck the nearest object at Jae-hwan’s head. Before he had the chance, however, the shriek of a whistle echoed from outside. He dashed out into the hall, leaving the other survivors to scrabble for weapons.

Summoned by Ji-eun’s frantic alarm, people had begun to gather around the lobby; Eun-hyeok rushed in with a bat, only to stop short at what he saw. A humanoid mass of tangled silver-grey hair shuffled across the floor, what little skin peeked out crusted in blood and grime. Its movement was stiff, almost pained; metal clattered against concrete as it stepped over a sheet of corrugated steel, hair dragging on the floor behind it. Byeoung-il, Hye-in, Jae-hwan and Seungwan emerged from the shop and gathered behind Sangwook, brandishing all manner of improvised weapons. Sangwook made to step forward, hands curling into fists, but an arm blocked his path. He looked at Seon-yeoung in confusion.

“That’s my husband,” she said. There was an unusual hardness to her voice, quiet as it was. She held a metal pipe in her white-knuckled grasp. “Stay back.” The survivors muttered worriedly, but none dared move as she stalked towards the beast standing hunched in the center of the room.

“Pull yourself together, Kim Seok-heon,” she demanded. Her voice rose sharply; “Kim Seok-Heon, pull yourself together!” Her pipe connected with the monster’s skull, a loud clang echoing throughout the room. Gasps sounded from the other survivors. Amazingly, the monster did not fall; its head tilted up to look Seon-yeoung in the eye, its shoulders hunching under her fierce gaze. “You decided to come back,” she said, her voice deathly cold. She readjusted her grip on the pipe. “Do you have any last words?”

A tense silence filled the room; the onlookers barely dared to breathe.

“Please…” wheezed the monster, its eyes dark and wet and terribly pained. “Kill…me.” Whatever it said next was too quiet for anyone but Seon-yeoung to hear, but none could miss the misery that crossed her face, as she raised the pipe over her head and swung.

Sangwook wasn’t sure how long it went on, the crunching of bone and spraying of blood, Seon-yeoung’s wails as she beat down the monster her husband had become. Before he knew it, the creature crumpled to the ground, laying lifeless in a pool of its own blood. And oh god, Hyun-su was here, a look of raw horror in his eyes and a barely perceptible tremble to his limbs, knuckles white around the hilt of his spear. Sangwook was struck by the sudden realization of how bad it must look, all of them standing around like a goddamn peanut gallery as the only other monster, the only other person in the group remotely like him, was beaten to death.

Hye-in noticed Hyun-su and flinched, brandishing a wooden spoon in his direction; Sangwook resisted the urge to slap it out of her shaking hands. Hyun-su’s backpack slipped from his shoulder and hit the ground, the rustle of fabric loud in the sudden silence of the lobby. Slowly, stiffly, his eyes never losing that haunted look, he hobbled across the room, leaning heavily on his spear. Eun-yu watched with concern as the door creaked shut behind him, and she locked eyes with Sangwook on the other side of the lobby.

Go, she mouthed, jerking her head towards the exit.

Me? Sangwook pointed to himself. Eun-yu shot him an exasperated look and nodded impatiently. Why? She glanced pointedly at Eun-hyeok, who was keeping an eye on her but trying to pretend he wasn’t.

Just do it! Came her silent but furious reply. Sangwook raised his hands in surrender, took a moment to gather himself, and followed after Hyun-su.

He found him on the second floor fire escape, arms folded on top of the railing. Sangwook stopped a few feet from him, pulling out a cigarette, and for a moment they both stared out over the alleyway, and what little of the city could be seen this low.

“I wish I had something better to say than ‘it’s not what it looks like,’” Sangwook said. Hyun-su’s shoulders tightened.

“Did he attack someone?” he asked. Sangwook winced.

“No.”

“Then it is what it looked like. You all killed him for being a monster.” The resignation in his voice rankled something in the back of Sangwook’s mind. He should be scared, angry, any number of things, but this empty sort of acceptance? It didn’t sit right.

“He asked his wife to kill him,” Sangwook said. Hyun-su glanced up in surprise. “I think he was in pain.”

“Oh.” Hyun-su looked down at his hands. It was quiet for a long moment; Sangwook sighed.

“It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“No,” agreed Hyun-su. He stared out over the street, the gold of the setting sun reflected in his eyes. “I’m still a monster. They’re still going to kill me, once I stop being useful.” Black eyes flicked to Sangwook, and the corner of his mouth turned up the tiniest bit. “Would you do it? Would you kill me, if it came down to it?”

“I don’t want to,” Sangwook answered honestly. Hyun-su hummed, looked away, straightened up.

“He was a terrible person,” he said, his voice suddenly sharp. “I’m glad he’s gone.” Hyun-su headed for the stairs, leaving Sangwook alone on the fire escape with half a cigarette and more questions than he’d begun with.

Chapter Text

“The power is out,” Ji-eun said, an anxious crease to her brow.

Seungwan touched her shoulder in reassurance. “Let’s wait a bit, Ji-eun. It’ll be okay.”

“How do you know?” muttered Hye-in. “It’s obviously not okay.”

“What’s gonna happen now?” Jae-hwan asked, a frantic energy about him. He scooted uncomfortably close on the bench; Hye-in leaned away with a wrinkle in her nose. “I hear we’re about to run out of food.”

“The water will be cut off soon,” added Ji-eun, her voice quivering. From her perch by the window, Eun-yu glanced over at the kids, huddled together on the carpet.

“Su-yeoung,” said Yeoung-su, his eyes wide and wet, “Are we going to die?” Su-yeoung had been keeping it together remarkably well for a kid her age, but even she had no answer for her brother.

“Yeah, it’s over,” blurted Byeong-il. “We’re all totally fucked!” The other survivors stared at him in scandalized shock; Yeoung-su began to cry. “I really hope I go to heaven when I die.”

A bolt of anger flashed through Eun-yu.

“So what?” she asked, standing. “So what, who cares? Do you want us all to drink the fucking Kool-Aid and just give up or something?” She rounded on Byeoung-il. “Stop whining, asshole! Whining won’t change anything. Trust me.” She stormed off down the hall, leaving the survivors to stare after her in bewilderment.

~ ~ ~

Seok-heon’s body lay crumpled on the floor, nearly unrecognizable, silver-grey hair soaked with red. Hyun-su’s reflection stared up at him from the blood pooled on the tile. Its eyes were black.

You’ll end up like this too , it said. It smiled.

Hyun-su blinked awake curled up on the hard bench of the arcade, joints aching where his bones pressed against the metal.

“Are you up now?” Eun-yu asked. Hyun-su grunted an affirmative, sitting up stiffly. She shut her book and studied him intensely. “I know you’re a pushover, but being a doormat is apparently in your blood.” Hyun-su stared back at her, vaguely offended but having no real argument. Eun-yu grabbed the flashlight hanging from the wall, clicked it on. “I was wondering, Hyun-su…” she pointed the beam at his arm. “Who did that to you?” Hyun-su turned his arm upward, baring the deep, gnarled scar.

“I did,” he mumbled. Eun-yu clicked her tongue.

“I mean, who made you do that to yourself?” The beam of the flashlight swung up to his face.
“It was because of me,” Hyun-su replied. Eun-yu just looked at him, a crease in her brow and a twist in her mouth.

“It’s not because of you, you moron.” She let the flashlight fall, swinging back on its tether. “Does it make you feel better, to think of it that way?”

“Not really,” Hyun-su admitted. Eun-yu snorted. He watched as she fished a box of band-aids from her jacket pocket. With surprising gentleness, she grabbed his wrist and stuck one over the scar, lining it up carefully. She slapped it and dropped his arm, shoving the box into his hands.

“I don’t know where you’re hurt, so you’ll have to stick the rest of these on yourself.”

“I don’t need them,” Hyun-su said as she stood. “I’ll be fine.” She rounded on him, an anger to her expression that surprised him.

“Make it obvious, Hyun-su! ‘I got hurt because of you, it fucking hurt like hell!’ Yeah?” He stared up at her in confusion; she sighed and threw up her hands. “Why don’t you get it?” She stalked off, leaving him alone in the arcade, staring at the box in his hands.

She’s right, you know, said the monster. They don’t deserve what you do for them. How much you bleed for them. It took control and carefully unwrapped a band-aid, pasting it over his cheekbone. Show them how it hurts.

~ ~ ~

Fucking bastard, spat the monster. Hyun-su tried to ignore it as he slipped through the gate and into the parking garage. ‘A monster is a monster?’ What does he know? I’m gonna kick his fucking ass.

“That would prove his point,” Hyun-su sighed. Something bitter twinged in his chest.

There are monsters that don’t hurt humans, he had insisted, back in the arcade.

So? Eun-hyeok had replied. How can you be sure you’ll be one of them?

Hyun-su had to admit, he had a point.

The fuck he did, said the monster. Who is he to judge us?

“Oh, because you’re so morally upstanding,” Hyun-su muttered.

Ooh, getting testy, are we? He jerks you around like a dog, and you just let him do it. Don’t you ever get tired of letting people walk all over you?

“I’m tired of you,” Hyun-su shot back. He flipped the main breaker, and the power hummed back to life. The broken lights above him sparked but remained dark and lifeless.

We could kill him, said the monster. It wouldn’t be that difficult. You’re wasting your time with these humans. Hyun-su ignored it, climbing on top of some crates to straighten one of the cameras. Hey, I’m serious. They’re just holding us back. Don’t come crying to me when someone—

Hyun-su’s leg was yanked out from underneath him with inhuman strength. He yelped as he was hauled into the air, dangling from one foot. His spear clattered to the floor; he kicked out with his free leg, only for another length of web to catch that foot and string it up with the other. He squinted up into the darkness of the rafters, blood rushing to his head. Red eyes stared back.

“Shit.”

He thought he put up a pretty good fight, all things considered. The spider clambered down, chitinous limbs clanging on the metal, and he tried to wrestle its jabbing legs away from his face and chest. But it maneuvered itself behind him, and that was it; fangs bit into his shoulder, a strangled cry escaping his throat, and within seconds his body betrayed him, falling limp as the monster twisted its web around him. It hissed, seemingly satisfied with its work, and scuttled off into the rafters again. Hyun-su tried to wiggle his arms loose, but his muscles remained frustratingly slack.

A little help? He appealed sheepishly. The monster inside him scoffed.

What the fuck am I supposed to do against a paralytic? You got yourself into this mess, you get yourself out of it.

Don’t you dare leave, Hyun-su thought. A bolt of panic shot through him. I swear to God, if you let me die to a spider—it was gone. Hyun-su went to sigh, but found he had no control over his lungs. That probably wasn’t good. His breaths felt too shallow, the spider’s venom burning through his veins, leaving his whole body numb and useless.

A soft pressure creeping over his legs had him glancing up, as well as he could while unable to move his head or neck. Some kind of green slime oozed from the vents, slowly beginning to cover him.

Yeah, this might as well happen, Hyun-su thought, just before he passed out.

Chapter Text

“You sent him out there alone?” demanded Du-sik. “You knew that thing was still there, and you sent him anyway?”

“Yi-kyung was fine,” Eun-hyeok protested weakly.

“Yi-kyung is a fully trained firefighter, and even she came back injured. Hyun-su is 19!”

“What would you have me do?” Eun-hyeok burst out, his voice sharp. “Send one of the humans to die? Hyun-su at least had the best chance of making it out alive.” He sat down heavily at the desk, burying his face in his hands. “I know you don’t agree with it, but this was our only option.” Du-sik’s expression softened, and he wheeled himself a little closer, placing a hand on Eun-hyeok’s shoulder.

“You can’t keep treating him like this,” he said gently. He glanced back at the monitors, at the grainy image of Hyun-su hanging from the rafters. “He deserves better.”

“We all do,” Eun-hyeok mumbled. “But here we are.” With a sharp breath, he stood, looking Du-sik in the eye. “We’ll get him back. I promise.”

~ ~ ~

“How the fuck did you let this happen!?” spat Sangwook, already standing to grab his jacket. From her perch on a stack of crates, Eun-yu appeared just as pissed.

“It was a risk we had to take,” Eun-hyeok said. “Nothing happened when we retrieved the bodies, I thought the situation must have calmed down.” He looked away, pushing up his glasses. “Clearly, I was wrong. Will you help?”

“Of course I’m fucking helping, what does it look like!?” Sangwook rummaged behind a box for his sledgehammer. “Who else is coming?”

“Jaehyun, Ji-su, and myself.”

“I’m coming too!” Eun-yu said, hopping down from the crates. Eun-hyeok looked at her in thinly veiled horror.

“Wh—no! Absolutely not!”

“Oh, so it’s too dangerous for me, but not for Hyun-su?” she bit back. “I don’t want to hear it! This is all your fucking fault!”

“Eun-yu—”

“Kid,” Sangwook interjected. “I’m going. You stay here.” Eun-yu opened her mouth to argue, but shut it at Sangwook’s stern look, silently fuming. He placed his lighter in her hand. “Hold onto that for me.” Something raw flickered across Eun-yu’s face, a fear Eun-hyeok hadn’t seen in her since the car crash.

How does it feel? asked that venomous little voice in the back of Eun-hyeok’s mind. That the gangster knows your sister better than you do? Sangwook stalked off towards the doors, sledgehammer in hand. Eun-hyeok made to follow but halted at a grip on his sleeve.

“You make sure he comes back in one piece,” Eun-yu hissed, eyes narrowed and glistening. “Both of them.” She stormed off, knuckles white around Sangwook’s lighter. Eun-hyeok stared after her for a moment, conflicted, but hurried to catch up with Sangwook.

“Thank you,” he said. Sangwook glared at him.

“I ain’t doing it for you.” He stopped abruptly, looking Eun-hyeok dead in the eyes; the scar on his face wrinkled with his scowl. “You’d better hope Hyun-su is alive, or you’ll be next.”

~ ~ ~

Hyun-su hung there, shrouded in webs and deathly still, the green slime that covered him drawing up and away as they approached. Even once it had disappeared fully into the vents, he didn’t move.

“Fuck, kid,” muttered Sangwook. He reached up to stabilize Hyun-su while Jaehyun’s sword sawed through the webbing that kept him hanging, catching his weight on his shoulders. He and Jaehyun lowered him to the ground, where he lay limp and unresponsive despite the frantic way Sangwook tore away the webbing around him.

“Guys, he’s really cold,” said Jaehyun with his fingers on Hyun-su’s wrist.

“He’s always cold,” Sangwook replied in a rush of breath. He put a hand on Hyun-su’s chest, shook him; no movement. “Come on, kid, wake up.”

“Is he breathing?” asked Eun-hyeok, on guard with his crossbow.

“I can’t get a pulse.” Jaehyun let go of Hyun-su’s wrist, his face somber. “Sangwook…”

“No, shut up! He’s not dead!” Sangwook shook him again, patted his cheek. No response. “Don’t you dare give up on me, kid!” He pressed his ear to Hyun-su’s chest, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to tune out the noise around him.

“I don’t understand,” said Ji-su. “Golden hour—I thought he couldn’t—"

“I think we’re too late,” said Eun-hyeok. “He just… ran out of time.”

Silence hung heavy in the air around them. That’s when Sangwook heard it:

-Thump-thump-

“He’s still alive!” Sangwook shot upright so fast the others startled. “Fuck! Come on!” He slammed his fist down on Hyun-su’s chest as hard as he could.

Black eyes snapped open and Hyun-su gasped in a long, rattling breath. Ji-su swore and stumbled back; Eun-hyeok stared openmouthed with none of his usual composure. Jaehyun crossed himself vigorously, and Sangwook nearly collapsed in relief.

“Oh my god,” he gasped, his forehead pressed against the side of Hyun-su’s chest. Hyun-su coughed, jostling them both. “Oh my fucking god, kid.” Black eyes rolled to him, wide with animal fear. “Are you okay?” The monster in Hyun-su’s body didn’t respond, too caught up in heaving for breath.

“He won’t be able to talk for a while,” Eun-hyeok said, kneeling on Hyun-su’s other side. The monster’s lip curled, but evidently that was all it had the energy for. “There’s probably next to no oxygen in his brain, it’s a miracle he’s conscious at all.” Hyun-su’s eyes promptly rolled back in his head and he passed out. “Oh.”

“How the fuck is that even possible?” Ji-su demanded, propped with her hands on her knees. “Shouldn’t he be dead?”

“Hypoxia in a normal human would cause brain damage after 4 minutes,” Eun-hyeok said. “For Hyun-su? Who knows. We’ll have to see how he’s doing once he wakes up.”

~ ~ ~

Hyun-su awoke to the sound of denting metal and the blaring of a car alarm. Something snarled; his head shot up, adrenaline striking through him, his arms tightening around Sangwook and Ji-su’s shoulders. Headlights flashed, another car beeping, and a figure blurred by with a cacophonous tearing of metal and crash of breaking glass. It stood atop the crumpled body of the car, its powerful digitigrade legs corded with muscle and clawed feet puncturing metal, a red glow pulsing in its chest with each thunderous beat of its heart. It had an arrow through one eye, buried deep in its skull, but Eun-hyeok and his crossbow were nowhere to be seen.

Another car beeped from across the garage, and the monster flashed by too fast for Hyun-su’s eyes to follow. Sangwook wasted no time running for cover, dragging Hyun-su and Ji-su with him. Ji-su stumbled; Hyun-su, still struggling to lift his own feet, went down with her. The car behind them beeped, and the monster’s head whipped around, cloudy eyes fixing on them. Kneeled beside Hyun-su, Sangwook hefted his sledgehammer, something wild in his eyes, as if his desperation alone could compete with the monster’s raw speed. It huffed, strode forward, each step coming faster and faster until—

The van came out of nowhere, slamming into the monster at full speed and sending it flying across the garage. The brakes screeched, and Jaehyun threw open the side door.

“Get in!” he shouted. Sangwook shoved Hyun-su into the backseat and clambered over the console into the front, Ji-su close behind.

“You’ve got your license, right?” she asked Eun-hyeok, whose knuckles were white around the steering wheel.

“How hard can it be?” Eun-hyeok replied.

“Step on it, then!” Jaehyun said, slamming the side door shut. The van jerked forward and stopped abruptly, jostling all its passengers. Sangwook stared at Eun-hyeok in mild horror.

“Hold on tight,” he said, and stomped his foot down on the gas. The van rocketed through the garage, engine roaring as all manner of monsters emerged from the woodwork, shrieking and growling. Eun-hyeok drove straight into one, not slowing down in the slightest as the monster screeched and clung onto the hood of the van. A window shattered, and Ji-su cried out as a monster grabbed her hair, attempting to drag her out through the broken glass. Hyun-su cursed and held onto her arms while Jaehyun wedged his sword out of the broken window.

“Sorry, Ji-su,” he said, slicing off her ponytail. Hyun-su pulled her back inside and Jaehyun stabbed at the monster, breaking its grip on the side of the van. Another soon took its place, its bloodied face covered in eyes, and Ji-su bashed it away with her bat. Up in the front, a huge arm burst through the driver’s side window, reaching all the way across the cabin. Eun-hyeok swore, struggling to keep his eyes on the road while Sangwook attacked with his sledgehammer, crunching bone until the monster withdrew with a pained roar. A skeletal hand punched through the roof, blade-like claws swinging wildly; Jaehyun sliced it off at the wrist just as quickly.

The van swerved and screeched to a stop mere meters from the gate.  Sangwook was the first one out, ripping away the monster that clung to the hood and shattering its skull with one well-placed swing. Eun-hyeok flung the side door open, Jaehyun darting out to spear the nearest monster while Ji-su and Eun-hyeok helped a dazed Hyun-su out from the backseat. They hurried towards the gate, Jaehyun unsheathing his sword from a monster’s gut and hurrying after them, just in time for the shadowy figure sprinting towards him to be engulfed in a jet of flame.

“I got you!” cackled Mr. An. He swept his flamethrower in a wide arc, monsters howling and shrieking as they fell, fire roaring and crackling as it ate away the flesh from their bones. The air shimmered with heat and the smell of burning flesh. Hyun-su watched with something akin to horror, flames reflecting in his eyes, until Sangwook towed him away. Something deep in the pit of his chest shrieked with fear, not of the howling monsters behind him, but the fate that befell them, nothing left but charred bones and ash.

Chapter Text

Screams and shouts echoed as they hobbled down the hall, Hyun-su struggling to keep his feet moving and being heavily supported by Sangwook, Ji-su darting up ahead of the group with her bat raised. Glass shattered and flames roared; the shriek of the spider had Hyun-su’s heart thumping against his ribs. They stumbled into the room just as the spider sliced through the rope around its leg and fell to the ground in a screeching pile of limbs. Du-sik was on the floor, wheelchair nowhere to be seen and a trail of blood streaking the floor behind him. Sangwook swore under his breath, gaze darting between Du-sik and Hyun-su.

“Can you stand?” he asked.

Hyun-su steadied himself on the nearest crate and shoved him forward. “Go!”

The spider screeched, smoke curling from its skin and its rear legs dragging limp and useless behind it. Sangwook and Jaehyun hauled Du-sik out of its path in the nick of time as it finally clambered to its feet, bloodshot eyes now fixed on Eun-hyeok. Hyun-su watched him struggle to load his crossbow, the spider careening towards them, too fast, not fast enough—

Hyun-su was moving before he had time to think, plunging his spear into the creature’s chest with a crunch of cartilage and a crackle of electricity. It screeched and spasmed, and he snarled right back, eyes black and burning with inhuman rage. Its legs swiped down, slicing into his shoulders, his back; one jabbed towards his face, and he barely caught it time. Slowly, painstakingly, his fingers dug into its joint, and with a terrible popping and snapping of tendons, he ripped it clean off. The spider let out an ear-splitting shriek; its leg flopped to the ground, black blood spurting from the stump left behind. It made one last desperate lunge, and Hyun-su toppled to the ground, the monster collapsing on top of him with a dying gurgle. It twitched once, twice, then fell still.

He laid there for a good few moments, chest heaving, until Sangwook stumbled over and dragged him out from under the creature’s steaming corpse. Hyun-su was grateful for about one second before Sangwook had him by the back of the neck and yanked him up to meet his furious gaze.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” he hissed. “I leave you alone for five seconds—”

“It was going to kill him!” Hyun-su protested, gesturing to a shell-shocked Eun-hyeok. His eyes flickered black and his face twisted into a snarl as the monster seized control. “Maybe if he’d moved a little faster—”

“I don’t want to hear it!” snapped Sangwook. He gave them a little shake; the monster growled and scrabbled at his grip on their nape. “You are in NO state to be fighting right now!”

“I’m fine!” The monster twisted free and made a break for it, but Sangwook grabbed Hyun-su’s hoodie and dragged him back into a headlock.

“30 minutes without oxygen!” he fumed. “Possible brain damage!? You’ll be lucky if I ever let you out of my sight again!”

“Possible WHAT!?” shrieked Eun-yu. Both of them froze as she stormed over; the survivors watched in confusion. “Answer me, goddammit! What the hell happened out there!?” Sangwook and Hyun-su exchanged wide-eyed glances, neither looking eager to respond.

“Hyun-su wasn’t breathing when we found him,” Eun-hyeok said. He twitched as the full fury of his sister’s gaze turned to him. “We still need to check if there’s any lasting damage from the hypoxia.” Eun-yu’s expression lay somewhere between frantic and enraged. She closed her eyes, took a deep, calming breath, and let it out slowly. She then lunged for Eun-hyeok and began aggressively shaking him.

“I told you to bring him back in one piece!” she shouted.

“He is in one piece!” Eun-hyeok protested, looking rather like a gazelle that had wandered too close to the lion’s den.

“’Possible brain damage’ is not one piece, you stupid asshole!”

Hyun-su began to sag in Sangwook’s arms, distracting him from the bickering siblings; he glanced down to see Hyun-su’s eyelids drooping, every part of him going lax.

“Kid?” Sangwook gave him a little shake. “You alright?” Hyun-su blinked himself back to awareness, the black in his eyes replaced with a hazy look.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “’M okay. I’m good.”

“You sure?” Sangwook asked, with no small amount of skepticism in his voice. “Lost steam pretty quickly there.”

“Got bit,” Hyun-su mumbled, grabbing the torn and bloodied shoulder of his hoodie. His arm dropped again just as quickly. “I think it’s still…” he trailed off, gaze slipping to somewhere in the distance. A bolt of fear struck through Sangwook’s chest.

“Shit. Yu-ri!” he called.

“I’m here,” she said, kneeling beside him. Despite being noticeably disheveled, her gaze was clear and focused as she looked over Hyun-su. “What’s wrong?”

“The monster bit him,” Sangwook replied, a trace of panic in his voice. “I think it might have been venomous.” Hyun-su’s gaze flicked up to his face.

“Don’t freak out,” he slurred. “It won’t kill me.”

“I’m not freaking out,” snapped Sangwook. He pulled back Hyun-su’s hoodie, baring the scabbed-over bite wound. “Yu-ri?”

“I think he’ll be okay,” she said. She prodded the wound; Hyun-su hissed. “I don’t see any swelling, and this isn’t new. He’s had time to get some of the venom out of his system.” She frowned at the still bleeding cuts on his back and shoulders. “I’ll need to clean these. Hyun-su, can you stand?” Hyun-su frowned and stared at his legs, which didn’t move.

“No,” he decided. Sangwook sighed and hauled him to his feet; Yu-ri hurried to support his other side.

“Alright, let’s go.”

It wasn’t an easy trip, Hyun-su’s feet dragging the whole way and Yu-ri struggling to keep pace with Sangwook, but they made it to the infirmary. Hyun-su tipped over the moment they set him down; Sangwook swore and scrambled to catch him before he cracked his head open on the table.

“Sorry,” Hyun-su mumbled as Sangwook propped him upright against his shoulder and Yu-ri went digging through the cabinets for supplies.

“Not your fault,” Sangwook replied. Wrestling Hyun-su out of his shirt and hoodie proved difficult, given he could barely even lift his own arms, but they managed. Sangwook hissed through his teeth as the wounds came into view, deep and sluggishly bleeding.

“Got you pretty good, didn’t it, kid?”

“Its legs were sharp,” Hyun-su said. “We should make weapons out of it.” Sangwook snorted.

“Yeah, that ought to work well.” Yu-ri tossed him an alcohol wipe, which he caught one-handed. “Crack it open like a lobster.”

“I could,” insisted Hyun-su. “I ripped its leg off.”

“I know kid, I was there.”

“Did it with my bare hands too. Ow.” Hyun-su winced at the sting of alcohol but couldn’t muster the energy to squirm away. Yu-ri returned, her arms laden with bandages, and dumped her supplies onto the table next to Hyun-su.

“You’re not healing,” she said, pressing a gauze pad to the bite wound on his shoulder. “Do you know why?” Hyun-su shrugged, then winced.

“Don’t know,” he mumbled. “It’s been taking longer lately. ‘M tired.”

“Yeah, we can tell,” Sangwook said. He held the gauze pad to Hyun-su’s shoulder while Yu-ri wrapped it in bandages. “How about the other you, does he know anything?” Yu-ri raised her eyebrows but didn’t comment; Hyun-su had just enough time for his eyes to go wide before they flickered black.

“You knew?” demanded the monster. Its voice was clear and cold, with none of Hyun-su’s previous slurring.

“Kid, I’ve watched you try to fight monsters for fun,” Sangwook deadpanned. “The first time we went to the upper floors together, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” The monster frowned petulantly. “You punched me in the stomach.” Yu-ri shot Sangwook a disapproving look.

“Just to snap him out of it,” he defended. The monster grinned.

“You know, Hyun-su feels more of that stuff than I do,” it said. Sangwook winced.

“Okay, now I feel bad.” The black disappeared from Hyun-su’s eyes.

“He’s lying,” interjected Hyun-su. The black returned, as did the monster’s scowl.

“Fucking snitch.”

“I’m not even going to ask,” Yu-ri muttered, tying off the last of the bandages. The monster watched her carefully; she sighed. “Look, I’m not going to tell anyone about your… situation, so long as you take it easy for a few days and let yourself heal.” She looked the monster in the eye, not fazed in the slightest by the coldness of its gaze. “Alright?”

The monster grinned.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Chapter Text

Jaehyun appeared not long after Hyun-su had fallen asleep, his wounds stitched and Sangwook guarding his bedside.

“How’s he doing?” Jaehyun asked, leaning against the doorway. His arm hung in a makeshift sling, splinted with some spare cloth and a few pieces of wood.

“Fine,” Sangwook replied in a clipped voice. “What do you want?”

“Skipping the pleasantries, then,” Jaehyun muttered, mostly to himself. Louder; “I thought it might be better to hear this from me than from Eun-hyeok.” Sangwook’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re not putting him back in that arcade,” he growled. Jaehyun raised his one free hand in surrender.

“We’re not,” he agreed. “Not while he’s still healing, and not after.” Sangwook blinked; Jaehyun shrugged. “I wasn’t the only one who thought it would be wrong. He saved our lives back there, this is the least we can do in return.” Sangwook nodded, his gaze drifting to the slow rise and fall of Hyun-su’s chest. Jaehyun watched with a faint sense of wonder.

“I can still hardly believe it,” he shook his head with a small smile. “That golden hour sure is something. It’s a miracle he’s alive.”

“Not a miracle,” Sangwook muttered, almost too quiet for Jaehyun to hear. “Just Hyun-su.”

.

.

.

Eun-yu showed up some time after Jaehyun left, her footsteps audible from the hall.

“Done harassing your brother?” Sangwook asked as she stormed in.

“Fuck off,” she snapped. “Here’s your stupid lighter back.” She chucked it at him hard enough to leave a bruise where it hit his chest. Irritation sparked behind his ribs; he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, tamping down the urge to bite back.

“Either calm down or leave,” he said firmly. “Don’t wake him up.” He jerked his head towards Hyun-su. Eun-yu fumed but held in her retort. Her expression softened with a glance at Hyun-su, and she hopped up on the table to sit by his feet.

“Have you heard yet?” she asked, voice subdued. Sangwook raised an eyebrow. “Y’know, if there’s any… brain damage.” She got noticeably quiet on those last words, and Sangwook was struck by the reminder of how young she was.

“Haven’t confirmed anything,” he said carefully, “But I think if there was any serious damage, we’d have seen it by now.” Eun-yu’s brow creased and her lips thinned; Sangwook sighed. “Hey. You know how he is; he’ll bounce back.”

Eun-yu nodded, but the tension never left her face.

~ ~ ~

Hyun-su blinked awake to the stained wall of the infirmary, the morning sun filtering in rays through the lone window. He moved to roll onto his back, immediately regretting it as pain jolted through his ribs, and pushed himself upright instead. He took stock of his surroundings, the bandage wrappers piled on the counter, the pull of stitches in his back and shoulders, Sangwook asleep in a chair by his bedside and Eun-yu’s jacket draped over his legs. Hyun-su folded the jacket off to his side before swinging his legs over the edge of the table. He stood, and his vision blurred dangerously; he gripped the counter and breathed through it until the floor stopped swaying under his feet. Goosebumps prickled across his bare shoulders, and he grabbed the shredded remains of his hoodie. It was still intact enough to keep its shape as he put it on, trying not to hiss at the pull of his stitches, so he figured that was good enough, despite the white of bandages peeking out from underneath.

Someone had left his spear and backpack propped outside the door. He hoisted the bag over his shoulder, grunting softly at the stretch of his wounds, and as he turned to leave—

“Where you going?”

Hyun-su froze. Sangwook, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, stared at him challengingly.

“…Patrol?” Hyun-su offered, with less confidence than he would have liked. Sangwook did not look impressed.

“No, you’re not, sit your ass back down. You’re injured.”

“I’m not, really,” Hyun-su said. Sangwook raised his eyebrows.

“Oh yeah? What do you call all those stitches Yu-ri put into your back, then?”  

“Unnecessary?” Hyun-su tried. He promptly blanched at the look that crossed Sangwook’s face. “Um, I mean—”

“Last chance, kid,” Sangwook growled. He pointed back into the infirmary. “Go lie down, now.”

Hyun-su bolted.

“God fucking dammit!”

Most of the survivors, when Hyun-su came barreling past them with Sangwook in hot pursuit, didn’t have a damn clue what to do. Some glanced back at the way they came, wondering if there was a monster they should be fleeing from. Jaehyun briefly entertained the idea of trying to stop Hyun-su, before remembering his broken arm and opting to let Sangwook handle this one. Ji-su took one look and decided it wasn’t her problem.

Now, Sangwook could have asked for help if he so desired. Could have yelled “stop him” or some similar phrase to the survivors they passed by. But because he wasn’t a fucking cartoon villain, and because he was determined to handle the issue himself, he did not in fact do that, and so no hints were given to the bystanders as to what the hell was happening when Hyun-su and Sangwook rushed by.

That is, until Eun-yu called out a startled “Hyun-su?” and distracted him just long enough for him to run directly into a door with a resounding BANG.

“Fuck,” he groaned, crumpling to the floor and clutching his head. Sangwook caught up in seconds and grabbed Hyun-su by the shoulder of his torn hoodie.

“You done?” Sangwook panted. Hyun-su muttered something unintelligible into his hands. “Great. Good job, kid,” he called to Eun-yu.

“I didn’t… do anything?” Eun-yu replied.

“Is everything okay?” Jaehyun asked. Sangwook, hauling Hyun-su to his feet, shot Jaehyun a glare. Hyun-su took the opportunity to make another lunge for the door; Sangwook swore and hooked an arm around him to hold him back. That, of course, was the moment Eun-hyeok walked in, stopping short and staring in open confusion as Sangwook wrestled Hyun-su away from the door.

“I’m not even going to ask,” he decided.

“Let go, I’ve got shit to do!” Hyun-su complained.

“We agreed,” Sangwook gritted out, “That you would take a few days off after nearly being killed twice in one day!”

“I’m fine!”

“The fuck you are! Now go lay down!”

“At least he’s feeling good enough to get into fights?” Ji-su offered.

“Don’t encourage him,” Jaehyun sighed, looking every year of his age. “Hyun-su, please just go back to bed.”

“Nope, can’t. Sun’s up and so am I.”

“Yeah, you’re a real nine-to-fiver,” Eun-hyeok muttered. “Hyun-su, you don’t need to go upstairs today—in fact, please don’t.” Hyun-su hesitated, and that was all the opportunity Sangwook needed to sweep him off his feet and into a fireman’s carry. Hyun-su yelped and struggled at first, but fell still as his vision swam.

“You,” said Sangwook, “Are going back to bed.” He set off down the hall.

“Fuck off, you’re not my dad,” slurred Hyun-su, whose recent head injury appeared to be catching up with him.

“Yeah, and it’s a good thing too, or I’d kick your ass for that little stunt you just pulled.”

“You’d kick my ass anyways.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

Chapter Text

“Thank you all for coming,” Eun-hyeok began. Eun-yu, who had not been invited, rolled her eyes from her seat on the couch. Pressed between her and Sangwook, Hyun-su appeared noticeably disheveled, a bit of haziness still present in his eyes. Sangwook, as usual, did not look like he wanted to be there.

“So? What did you need us all here for?” Ji-su asked. She sat perched on top of a desk with her bat balanced across her knees, Jaehyun sitting in a chair beside her and Du-sik parked in his wheelchair nearby. Eun-hyeok pursed his lips.

“We need to talk about our long-term goals,” he said. “Specifically, resources. There’s a limit to how much food we can scavenge from the upper floors, especially non-perishables, and the water could be cut off at any time. We’re going to need to go outside.”

“We’ll be killed if we go out on foot,” Jaehyun said, fingering the hilt of his sword. Ji-su’s eyes lit up, and her hand hit the desk with a loud BANG, startling the others.

“The van,” she realized, the corner of her mouth turning up.

“The van,” Eun-hyeok nodded. He turned to Du-sik. “Can you reinforce it?”

“Sure,” said Du-sik with a shrug. “I’ve got the right tools. Might need some more scrap metal, maybe a few other parts too. Shouldn’t be too hard to find them in the garage.” He paused, frowning. “Is the garage safe? It’s not going to be a quiet process.”

“It’s safe,” Hyun-su mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Nothing left in there. Mr. An torched all the monsters.” The others stared at him; he looked up, bleary-eyed and confused. “What?”

“That’s good,” Eun-hyeok said, quick to redirect. “A vehicle will make going outside much more feasible. How long will it take?”

“How soon do you want it?” Du-sik asked. “I can get it done in a week or two, less if I have help.”

“We’ve got some time, we’ll need to map out some routes anyway. But in the meantime, we should collect what we can from the upper floors.”

“Hyun-su can’t go up,” Sangwook said, his tone brokering no argument. “He’s still healing.”

“I’m fine,” Hyun-su said.

“Shut up, kid.”

“You’re right,” Eun-hyeok conceded, “And that’s why we’ll need to cover for Hyun-su. The food situation is too precarious, we can’t afford to stop looking.” He looked around the room. “I won’t force anyone to go, but—”

“We’re the best options,” Ji-su sighed. “I’ll go.”

“I will too,” Jaehyun said. Sangwook scoffed.

“Your fucking arm’s broken.”

“He’s still one of our best fighters,” Eun-hyeok said. “If we plan carefully and watch each other’s backs, we might even be able to avoid some attacks.” He spread a map of the complex across the coffee table. “I’ve been meaning to do this for a while now. Hyun-su, I’m going to need you to tell us everything you can.” All eyes turned to Hyun-su, who looked rather like a deer in the headlights.

“…We might be here for a while,” he said with a wince.

.

.

.

“Okay, so blind monster on the east side, 12^th to 15^th floor,” Ji-su said, hunched over the heavily annotated map, “Cannibal lady on the 14^th, and what’s this about the 8^th?”

“Stay away from the north side,” Hyun-su replied.

“How far away?” Eun-hyeok handed him a pen.

“Oh. Um…” Hyun-su traced a vague arc around the northern staircase. “Maybe that far? I don’t know exactly, usually I just turn around when things start to feel off. If you can see the stairs, you’re too close.”

“What do you mean, ‘feel off?’” Jaehyun asked. Hyun-su shrugged.

“I think it’s a monster thing. Sometimes I can sense when they’re close by, gives me a little more time to react.”

“You never told me you could do that!” Eun-yu pouted.

“Yeah, because it doesn’t always work.” A flicker of black crossed Hyun-su’s sclera. “I couldn’t feel whatever it was on the 8^th floor until after I ran into it the first time. Maybe it works better for full monsters, and that’s why they steer clear of that floor.”

“Wait, wait,” Ji-su said, “The whole floor?” Hyun-su nodded; her eyes went wide. “You’re saying there’s something up there that’s big and scary enough to scare all the other monsters away from an entire floor?” Sheepishly, Hyun-su nodded again. Ji-su let out something that might have been a laugh, her expression stricken and somewhat panicked. “Okay, I vote we stay the hell away from that!”

“It’s good for if you’re being chased,” Hyun-su pointed out. “None of the other monsters will go past the 8^th floor.” The others stared at him in thinly veiled horror.

“Forgive me for saying so, Hyun-su,” Jaehyun said with a tight smile, “But that sounds like a terrible idea. I think the last thing we want to do is kick up a fuss in that thing’s territory.”

“This is sounding worse by the minute,” Ji-su muttered to herself. “We really shouldn’t be going up there.” Eun-yu’s gaze snapped towards her, a sharp grin spreading across her face. Hyun-su was hit with a sudden wave of dread at the sight of it.

“Is it too much for you?” Eun-yu asked sweetly. “You all didn’t seem to mind sending Hyun-su up there every day.” Everyone in the room winced, Hyun-su included.

“Okay, I think that’s enough,” Sangwook decided. He hauled Hyun-su to his feet and grabbed Eun-yu by the back of her jacket, towing them both out of the room. “Time to go.”

“I wasn’t fucking finished!” Eun-yu protested.

“You are now.”

Jaehyun, Ji-su, and Eun-hyeok stared out the door after them as their voices faded. The tension in the room felt thick enough to cut with a knife.

Eun-hyeok sat down heavily and put his face in his hands.

“I’m such an asshole,” he said.

“Could have gone my whole life without knowing,” Ji-su muttered, eyes wide and staring off into space. “That we live in the same building as something that fucking horrible. And we’ve been sending a fucking kid up there with it.”

“You don’t need to sugarcoat it,” Eun-hyeok said with a hollow laugh. “I’m the one sending him up there. This is on me.”

“You made the best of a bad situation,” Jaehyun said. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I could have asked!” Eun-hyeok exploded, something wild in his eyes. “I could have treated him like a fucking person! We all knew it was bad up there, we—” He collapsed back in on himself, placed his glasses on the desk behind him and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing. What the fuck am I doing?”

“Hey, hey!” Jaehyun grabbed his shoulder, shook him; Eun-hyeok stared up at him with wet eyes. “Stop that! You’ve been keeping us alive! You’ve done more for the people in this building than anyone else here! And yeah, sometimes you have to do things you’re not proud of, sometimes you have to make hard decisions, and it sucks, but you do what you have to! It’s a shitty situation, there are no good options, but you made the best of what you had, and that matters! The good you’ve done matters!” Jaehyun drew in a sharp breath and scrubbed at his eyes.

“It’s not all your fault, either,” Ji-su said, looking down at her clasped hands. “We could have fought you on it at any time. But we didn’t, because deep down we all know that as much as it sucks, as much as we don’t want to admit it, this is the best option. This is how we make sure the most of us survive.” She blinked rapidly and took in a shaky breath. “It’s unfair. It’s beyond unfair. But you didn’t have a choice.” She looked Eun-hyeok in the eye, expression stony, a tear streaking down her cheek. “It’s terrible. Maybe even cruel. But there’s nothing you could have done that would have been better. You just…” she sighed, looked away. “You can’t save everyone.”

The silence that stretched between them seemed to last hours, each second weighing heavier than the last. Ji-su sniffed and wiped her cheek; Jaehyun sighed like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Eun-hyeok just sat there with his face in his hands.

“How am I going to explain it to him?” he said finally. “How do I even begin to apologize?”

“I’m not sure you can,” Ji-su said, voice hoarse. “You can’t justify this—well, you can, but not in a way that doesn’t sound terrible.”

“I won’t speak for Hyun-su, but I think he’d understand,” Jaehyun added solemnly. “If you laid it all out on the table, I think he’d agree.”

“I don’t think I can,” Eun-hyeok said. “Not with all the time in the world.”

“Then just do what you can. Do what you can, and hope it’s enough.”

Chapter Text

Eun-yu wrenched herself free from Sangwook’s grip and whirled around with fire in her eyes.

“What’s your fucking problem!?” she spat.

“What’s my problem? What the hell were you thinking!?” Sangwook snapped.

“I was fucking right and you know it! They treat Hyun-su like shit, it’s about time they noticed!”

“Guys, please,” Hyun-su said, his voice sounding whisper-quiet among the yelling.

“It doesn’t matter how right you are if you’re picking fights on purpose! You think that shit won’t have consequences?”

“You think I care what those fuckers think about me? I know what I’m doing, don’t treat me like I’m some fucking kid!”

“Quit acting like one, then!”

Something dark surged up in Eun-yu’s expression.

“You’re so full of shit,” she snarled, jabbing a finger into Sangwook’s chest. “You too much of a coward to admit the truth when it’s staring you in the face? Grow a spine, why don’t you?”

“Oh, good one,” Sangwook scoffed. “Keep shifting the blame, maybe it’ll end up somewhere it belongs.”

“Okay, come on,” Hyun-su pleaded. “Cut it out.”

“I know you fucking agree with me!” Eun-yu rolled on, unheeding of his words. “Why do you keep pretending in front of everyone else? You want them to like you or something?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sangwook said.

“Don’t try lying to me, asshole! I see right through you and all your bullshit!”

“Oh, I’m the one bullshitting? You couldn’t give a straight answer to save your life, god forbid you just say what you mean for once!”

“Oh, fuck you, you old piece of—”

“Oh my GOD, shut the FUCK UP!” Hyun-su shouted. Eun-yu and Sangwook froze, staring at him with twin expressions of shock. His eyes were black and narrowed, his face twisted into a snarl. “You’re both so fucking selfish! Have you forgotten what this is really about?” He threw his hands in the air.  “’Oh, boo hoo, nobody understands me, I’ve got a boatload of trauma and I’m gonna make that everyone else’s problem!’ You think you’re fucking special? You have no clue what it’s like! I’m the one who has to go up there! I’m the one who has to face all the horrible shit you only hear about! I’m the one whose life is only worth what I manage to bring back!” Hyun-su’s hands came up to grip his hair, his eyes wild; the monster gave a brittle laugh. “Do you know how many bones I’ve broken up there? How much of my blood is on those walls? How many times I’ve had to drag myself into a closet and hide until I can walk again? You think anything you say matters in the face of that? You think you’re better than them, just because you kick up a fuss and preach about how wrong it is?” He gestured back the way they came. “You’re all the fucking same! You know why? Because no matter how much you bitch and moan about it, no matter how much you claim to care, nothing changes! At the end of the day, I’ll still have to go up there and risk my neck for a bunch of people who would never do the same for me. And you can sit there and act like you understand, you can stand up for me if it makes you feel better about yourselves, but nothing you do is going to fix that. So quit fucking fighting!”

Sangwook and Eun-yu stared in stunned silence. The black receded from Hyun-su’s eyes, the twisted snarl leaving with it. A look of panic crossed his face as his gaze flicked frantically between the two of them. He bolted.

“Wait, kid, don’t—” Sangwook sighed. “He’s going to rip his stitches, damn it.” He moved to follow, but Eun-yu grabbed his arm, looking conflicted.

“Hold on,” she said. “Just… let me handle this one?” Sangwook squinted at her, considering.

“Fine. But if you need any help—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll call you or whatever.” Eun-yu waved him off, already following in Hyun-su’s footsteps. “Don’t wait up.”

“What do you mean, you’ll call me?” Sangwook yelled after her. “The phone lines are down, you don’t even have my number! What are you—” he threw his hands up in the air. “She’s gone.”

~ ~ ~

Eun-yu found Hyun-su on the 3^rd floor fire escape, sitting cross-legged and staring out over the street. A faint scent of copper hung in the air; she supposed Sangwook had been right about the stitches.

“Surprised you made it up this far,” she said, sitting down beside him. He didn’t reply, just glanced at her with an unreadable expression before turning back to the street. She watched with him as the breeze stirred up whorls of dust and fallen leaves below.

“Hey,” she said, bumping her shoulder with his. “I can hear the gears turning. What’s going on up there?” She tapped his temple; he twitched away but met her gaze with a sigh. “You know we’re not mad at you, right?”

“You should be,” Hyun-su said, his face eerily blank. “I said some pretty shitty things.”

“Eh,” Eun-yu shrugged. “Nothing we didn’t have coming. But that wasn’t really you, was it?”

“No,” Hyun-su agreed. He looked down at his hands. “I don’t agree with everything he said, either. You and Sangwook, you aren’t like everyone else. And…” he met her eyes. “It matters to me that you try. Even if nothing comes of it.” Eun-yu scoffed.

“I’ll wear them down eventually,” she insisted. Hyun-su’s lips quirked.

“It’s okay if you don’t,” he said, his voice soft. Eun-yu blinked, unsure of how to respond.

“Look,” she said eventually. “I know we don’t really get what it’s like for you. And it probably sucks, seeing how much easier we have it. But if you want to talk about it or something, I guess… we’re here. If you want. You don’t have to, but— I mean—” Eun-yu sighed and buried her face in her hands. “God, I’m so bad at this.”

“I don’t know,” Hyun-su said, his smile growing. “I thought you were doing pretty well.” Eun-yu huffed and shoved him; the beginnings of a laugh bubbled in his chest. “To be honest, though, I’m kind of glad you guys don’t get it. This isn’t something I’d want you to understand.”

“I could handle it,” Eun-yu insisted.

“I know you could. I’d be more worried about Sangwook, to be honest. He’d never let me go upstairs again.” Eun-yu wheezed; Hyun-su rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. He wouldn’t let you go out either.”

“He can’t stop me,” Eun-yu said.

“He absolutely can.” Hyun-su glanced towards the stairs. “Where is he, anyway? I’m a little surprised he didn’t come with you.”

“Told him to let me handle it. I think he would have been too overbearing.” Eun-yu snickered. “I said I’d call him if I needed anything.” Hyun-su shot her a quizzical look.

“The phone lines are down,” he said.

“I know,” Eun-yu replied with far too much amusement. Hyun-su barked out a laugh, and she beamed in pride.

“We should probably head back, before he gets worried,” he said, moving to stand.

“You sure?” Eun-yu asked, raising an eyebrow. “You know he’s going to be on your case about popping those stitches.” Hyun-su winced.

“…Let’s wait a little longer,” he decided, settling down again. Eun-yu leaned up against his side, Hyun-su shifting his arm to make room, and they sat in comfortable silence once more.

The sun had begun to set, casting long shadows over the fire escape, before Hyun-su spoke again.

“I’m sure you have questions,” he said. There was something different about his voice; it seemed lower, lacking the same hesitance it usually held. Eun-yu straightened, catching a glimpse of black eyes.

“It’s you,” she said, almost warily. The monster gave a wry smile.

“It’s me.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m always here,” the monster said, stretching languidly. It met Eun-yu’s distrustful gaze. “What’s with the face? I thought you and Hyun-su were friends.”

“You’re not Hyun-su,” Eun-yu said. The monster grinned.

“Aren’t I?”

“He said he didn’t agree with you,” she argued. “The things you said. You don’t speak for him.”

“I’m sure that’s what he’d like you to believe,” the monster said. “Maybe he even believes it himself. But no matter how much he denies it, he and I are the same. I’m just the part of him that never sees the light of day.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Eun-yu replied. The monster looked at her with thinly veiled irritation. “Did you mean all those things you said back there?”

“Of course,” the monster scoffed. “You’re all the same. Why should it matter to me if you want to kick up a fuss?”

“It matters to Hyun-su,” Eun-yu said. The monster scowled.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t it? If you’re Hyun-su, which is the truth? Does it matter or not?” The monster’s lip curled.

“You’re putting an awful lot of faith in him,” it said, voice cold. “He could have been lying.” A sly grin spread across Eun-yu’s face.

“See, I don’t think he was. I think you know that too, and that’s why you’re so pissed.” She leaned closer with a smirk. “Who’s in denial now?”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” the monster growled. The black in its eyes faded, and Hyun-su blinked back at her, looking bewildered and somewhat alarmed.

“Don’t do that,” he pleaded. “He could hurt you.” Eun-yu leaned up against his side with a satisfied smile.

“I don’t think he will,” she said. Hyun-su had no response, and so the two of them turned back to watch the sunset once more.

Chapter Text

“Why did you bring him here?” Du-sik asked, putting his drill down on the hood of the van.

“Because someone has to keep an eye on him, and it’s not going to be me,” Sangwook replied.

“I’m right here,” said Hyun-su. Sangwook had a fistful of his hoodie, which evidently had been used to drag him here.

“Yeah, and you’re going to stay here until I’m back. No going upstairs.”

“But the meds—”

“I’ll get the fucking meds, okay? Now sit down before you pop your stitches. Again.” Hyun-su perched himself reluctantly on top of a crate, and Du-sik watched over the hood of the van as Sangwook stalked off.

“So, what’s the story there?” he asked.

“Eun-yu’s ankle is acting up,” Hyun-su said, still staring after Sangwook like a lost puppy. “Normal pain meds don’t work, but she said she had stronger ones in her apartment.”

“Ah,” Du-sik nodded. “No wonder Sangwook’s in a mood, both of his kids are down for the count.”

“He’s always in a mood,” Hyun-su muttered distractedly. There was a brief pause before the rest of Du-sik’s sentence caught up with him. “Wait, his what?”

“Nothing. Come hold this for me, would you? Don’t know how Eun-hyeok expects me to get this done with just two hands.” Hyun-su obliged, holding the metal plate against the side of the car while Du-sik drilled it into place, but his frown never faded. Du-sik sighed.

“You really don’t like that he’s going up there, do you?”

“He shouldn’t have to,” Hyun-su insisted. “I could have handled it.”

“While you’re still injured? Be reasonable, Hyun-su.”

“I am being reasonable! He’s human, he could get killed! At least I’d heal.” Du-sik set his drill down and turned to Hyun-su with a stern gaze, folding his hands in his lap. Hyun-su deflated, looking chagrined. “Sorry, sorry. I just…” he rubbed his eyes. “I don’t like to think about it. What could go wrong.”

“Imagine how the rest of us feel, seeing you go up there every day,” Du-sik said, turning back to his work. Hyun-su blinked at him, speechless. “Can you blame him for not wanting to take the risk, especially while you’re still hurt? Sangwook’s tough, he’ll be fine.”

“He doesn’t even have a ranged weapon,” Hyun-su sighed, sounding defeated. “I keep telling him he needs something better than that sledgehammer. Shit, I should have told him to take my spear.”

“Maybe you would have had time if you weren’t so determined to go up yourself,” Du-sik said. Hyun-su opened his mouth to argue, but paused, considering.

“Maybe,” he said begrudgingly. His gaze flicked over the van, dented and sprinkled with crushed glass. “How are you going to fix the windows?”

“Bring me my toolkit and I’ll show you.”

.

.

.

When Sangwook returned to the garage, it was to the sound of creaking metal.

“How’s it going in there, Hyun-su?” Du-sik called from the other side of the van. The side door hung open, Hyun-su laying on his back across the middle row with his feet braced against the caved-in roof, pushing hard as the metal groaned in protest.

“Almost got it!” he grunted. He gave it a solid kick, and the dent popped back out. “There!”

“Nice work,” said Du-sik. “Looks better already.”

“There’s still a hole in the roof,” Hyun-su replied, rolling back onto his feet.

“One problem at a time.”

“You know, when I said “keep an eye on him,” I didn’t mean put him to work,” Sangwook said. Hyun-su perked up at the sound of his voice; Du-sik chuckled.

“What did you expect him to do, sit around and wait? He’s a teenager, he needs things to do.”

“I wanted to help,” Hyun-su said, hopping out of the van. “Did you get them?” Sangwook held up the orange bottle and gave it a little shake, the pills inside rattling.

“Let’s not keep her waiting, she’ll bite someone’s head off.”

“Yeah, probably,” Hyun-su winced. “Thanks, Mr. Han.”

“Come back anytime.”

~ ~ ~

While Hyun-su was not particularly thrilled about his enforced sick leave, Su-yeoung and Yeoung-su had immediately jumped on the opportunity to hang out with their favorite person. He didn’t know why they were so fond of him, to be honest; he knew he wasn’t great company, quiet and withdrawn more often than not, and despite how many of them he’d saved from the spider monster, the survivors were still afraid of him. But the kids held none of the same reservations that the grown-ups still clung to, never understood why people got quiet whenever Hyun-su entered a room, why Jin-ok tensed whenever she saw him in the daycare. She was there now, shooting him dirty looks from across the room while he and Eun-yu played board games with the kids.

“Why does Ms. Cha always look so angry when you come play with us?” Su-yeoung whispered. Hyun-su’s lips thinned, struggling to think of an appropriate response.

“Because she’s a mean old hag,” Eun-yu muttered. Hyun-su gasped and smacked her shoulder.

“Don’t say that!” he hissed. Eun-yu rolled her eyes.

“You’re too nice, Hyun-su.”

“What, just because I don’t outright insult people?”

“It’s not like they don’t deserve it.” She turned to the kids, leaning forward conspiratorially. “You want to know a secret? Ms. Cha doesn’t like Hyun-su’s black eyes. A lot of the adults are afraid of them, actually.”

“But that’s silly,” Su-yeong said. “You had black eyes when you saved us from the big monster!”

“Yeah, they’re cool!” Yeong-su added. Hyun-su blinked.

“You think they’re cool?” he asked.

“Of course they’re cool! They mean you have superpowers, Eun-yu said so!”

“She told you that?” Hyun-su’s eyes flickered black, and he leaned towards Eun-yu with a slight smirk. “Don’t go telling them all my secrets.” Eun-yu’s smile faltered; across the room, Jin-ok noticeably stiffened.

“Woah, let me see!” Yeong-su grabbed Hyun-su’s face and turned it towards him; the monster blinked in surprise, and the black eyes disappeared. “Aw, do it again!”

“I—I shouldn’t,” Hyun-su stammered, still reeling. Luckily, Eun-yu caught on and swooped in to save him.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to scare Ms. Cha,” she said. The kids were vocal with their complaints, but begrudgingly settled down around the board again as Eun-hyeok walked in.

“Oh good, you’re here,” he said to Hyun-su. “Jaehyun and Ji-su are about to head upstairs, they wanted to ask if you had any tips for them.”

“Oh.” Hyun-su glanced between Eun-hyeok and the kids gathered around the game board, moving to stand. “Should I go talk to them, or—”

“No, no,” Eun-hyeok said, raising his hands with a slight smile. “I can see you’re busy. I’ll pass on a message.”

“Oh. Okay.” Hyun-su settled down again, though not without some confusion. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” said Eun-hyeok, crouching down by him and Eun-yu. “So?”

“I mean, there’s the basics; keep an earbud in, stay on alert, try not to make too much noise. There’s two of them, so it’s probably best if one keeps watch while the other grabs the food. Oh, and tell them to keep an eye on their exits, make sure they’ve got a plan for how they’re going to get out if the way they came in isn’t safe.”

“Ji-su wanted to know if flashlights were okay.”

“I think so?” Hyun-su frowned, considering. “I’ve never needed one before, but I might have better night vision than them. Just tell her to be careful with the beam, don’t let it shine too far down the hallway or something might notice.”

“I’ll let her know. Thank you, Hyun-su.” Eun-hyeok stood and turned to leave; Jin-ok cleared her throat. “Can I help you, Ms. Cha?”

“Are you not going to do something about this?” she demanded. She gestured to Hyun-su, whose shoulders hunched. Eun-hyeok glanced between them.

“About… what, exactly?”

“He shouldn’t be near the kids,” Jin-ok hissed under her breath, frustration lining her face. “He’s a monster, he’s dangerous!” Hyun-su winced; Eun-yu’s expression darkened, but as she made to stand, Eun-hyeok blocked her with an outstretched arm.

“Jin-ok,” he said, his voice suddenly cold, “Hyun-su is a member of our community, and I expect you and the others to treat him with respect. He’s kept us alive this long, the least we can offer him in return is our trust. It’s long overdue.” Jin-ok took a stunned step back, and Eun-hyeok turned to Hyun-su. “Let me know if anyone else says something like that to you. I’ll take care of it.” He held Hyun-su’s gaze for a long moment, did the same with Eun-yu, then turned and left, his steps swift and sure.

“Well,” Eun-yu said, “That was something. Whose turn is it?”

Hyun-su barely heard her, staring after Eun-hyeok with a confusing mix of emotions swirling in his gut.

~ ~ ~

The end of the week found the three of them in the shop, Sangwook at the front desk while Eun-yu and Hyun-su sat together on the floor by the shelves. They’d been helping him take inventory of the nonessentials earlier, but Eun-yu had gotten bored and began stacking packs of gum on Hyun-su’s knee, who politely pretended not to notice as he leafed through their inventory list.

“Quit fucking testing it,” Sangwook snapped as Hyun-su rotated his shoulder for the umpteenth time.

“What?” Hyun-su protested, dropping his arm. The tower of gum packets balanced on his knee wobbled and fell; Eun-yu sighed in disappointment. “I’ve almost got my full range of motion back!”

“You just got those stitches taken out, don’t you dare rip anything back open.”

“I don’t think that’s really possible at this point,” Eun-yu said, pulling the neck of Hyun-su’s sweater to the side. He yelped and swatted her away. “What, I’m trying to check!”

“Just ask me, then,” Hyun-su admonished, but pulled his shirt aside to bare his shoulder. The spider bite was little more than two dark spots on his skin, the cuts on his back healed into raised pink lines.

“You’re still not going up,” Sangwook said. Hyun-su groaned and flopped back on the floor. “Hey, don’t put pressure on it!”

“It doesn’t even hurt!”

“How about now?” Eun-yu leaned over and jabbed her fingers into his shoulder. Hyun-su yelped more out of surprise than pain, shoving her away as she cackled.

“What is wrong with you?!”

“I’m helping!” she made another lunge; Hyun-su squawked.

“No you’re not! Ge—get off!”

Sangwook put his face in his hands and tried to ignore the scuffle developing on the shop floor.

“Is this a bad time?” Jaehyun asked, stepping inside. He watched in confusion as Eun-yu threw a pack of gum at Hyun-su’s head; he ducked, and Eun-yu took advantage of the distraction to tackle him to the ground. “What are they doing?”

“Helping, apparently,” Sangwook grumbled. “How was your patrol?”

“It went well enough. Ji-su and I are looking for some way to mark rooms we’ve already cleared, do you have anything that might work? Spray paint, maybe?”

“They’ve got the inventory list,” Sangwook said, gesturing tiredly to the wrestling teenagers. “Hyun-su!”

“Yeah?” Hyun-su called back, holding Eun-yu away at arm’s length.

“Do we have spray paint?”

“Um, I think so?” He spared one arm to check the list, and Eun-yu begrudgingly backed off. “Yeah, this way.” He gestured for Jaehyun to follow him into the storage room.

“Do you think spray paint will be too loud?” Jaehyun asked.

“Depends on which floor,” Hyun-su replied, scanning the shelves. “Have you been sticking to the quieter ones?”

“I think so. We’ve had a few scares here and there, but no fights.” Hyun-su’s shoulders tensed; Jaehyun sighed. “You don’t need to worry so much about us, Hyun-su. We’re managing just fine.”

“I can’t help it,” Hyun-su said, his voice fraught with nerves. “You shouldn’t have to be up there. Hell, I probably could have gone up today, I’m pretty much back to normal, you and Ji-su didn’t have to—”

“Hyun-su,” Jaehyun interrupted patiently. “We knew what we were getting into when we volunteered. Please don’t push yourself so hard trying to take our place. You’ve gone far too long without a break already, we’re happy to pick up the slack a little while longer.” Hyun-su’s mouth opened and closed but no words came out; he frowned. Jaehyun picked up a can of spray paint and gave it a shake, wincing at the loud rattle. “Damn, I forgot about that part. Maybe it is too loud.” He moved along down the aisle. “Regular paint should do the trick, don’t you think?”

“…Yeah,” Hyun-su replied belatedly. He shook himself as if it would dispel the fog of confusion in his head, the paper in his hand wrinkling with the force of his grip. He glanced down with a slight frown; when had that happened? His fingers took just a moment too long to unclench, and something unfamiliar stirred behind his ribs.

Chapter Text

“Holy shit,” Hyun-su breathed, straining his neck to look over his shoulder into the mirror. Where yesterday the thick raised lines of his wounds had crossed his back, now nothing but smooth skin remained.

Yeah, you’re welcome, groused the monster. Hyun-su paid it no heed, rushing back to the infirmary.

“Eun-yu!” he shouted as he burst through the door. Eun-yu cursed and dropped her phone; Sangwook startled awake so abruptly he fell out of his chair, to which Eun-yu cackled. “I need to borrow your knife!”

“Okay?” Eun-yu said, already handing it over. “What for?” Hyun-su flicked the knife open and cut deep into his palm. Sangwook and Eun-yu let out twin cries of protest. “What the fuck, Hyun-su!?”

Sangwook was on his feet in an instant, grabbing Hyun-su by the collar and snatching the knife away.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” he demanded.

“Look, look!” Hyun-su stuck out his hand excitedly. The wound was already closing, skin knitting together before their eyes. In a matter of seconds, it was gone completely, not even a scar left behind. “My healing’s back!”

“Oh Jesus Christ!” Eun-yu swore, putting her face in her hands. “Would it kill you to warn us next time?”

“No, don’t do that again,” Sangwook said adamantly. He let go of Hyun-su’s sweater and rubbed his eyes. “There’s got to be a better way to test it.”

“But this means I can go on patrol again, right?” Hyun-su asked. Eun-yu frowned.

So eager to throw yourself back to the wolves already? the monster commented.

Shut up, Hyun-su thought in its direction. Sangwook sighed heavily.

“Fucking… fine. Yeah, I guess.” Hyun-su whooped and dashed out into the hall.

“Gotta find Jaehyun and Ji-su, I’ll see you later!” Sangwook stared after him, shaking his head.

“The fuck’s he so excited for?” Eun-yu grumbled.

“He’s going stir crazy down here,” Sangwook replied. “Probably just wants to get outside. Come on, let’s try to catch him before he leaves.”

~ ~ ~

“Be careful,” Jaehyun said. “We heard some weird noises while we were on the 10^th floor, there might be something new knocking around up there.”

“Thanks, I will.” Hyun-su adjusted the straps of his backpack. He glanced over at Eun-hyeok. “Is there a list for today?”

“I don’t think that will be necessary anymore,” Eun-hyeok replied. “It’s not worth risking your life for someone’s personal belongings. Focus on the essentials; nonperishables, bottled water if you can find it. And in the future, if anyone tries to give you a list, just ignore them.” Hyun-su huffed out the beginnings of a laugh at that. He startled as Eun-yu rammed into him, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she said. Sangwook snorted, and she grabbed him by the shirt to pull him in. “Get in here, asshole.” Sangwook sighed but wrapped his arms around them both, resting Hyun-su’s head against his shoulder. Jaehyun and Ji-su exchanged stunned glances. Sangwook glared at them; Ji-su quickly looked away while Jaehyun raised his hand in surrender, looking somewhat amused. Eun-hyeok politely avoided making eye contact.

“Alright,” said Sangwook, pulling back and clapping Hyun-su on the shoulder. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”

“No takebacks,” Eun-yu sniggered, pulling Sangwook away. He flicked her forehead but allowed himself to be dragged along. Jaehyun nodded to Hyun-su and Ji-su waved as they too took their leave. Hyun-su stared after them with a soft smile, then turned and reached for the door.

“Hyun-su,” Eun-hyeok said. He paused with his hand on the door handle. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I…” I’m sorry I’m making you do this. I’m sorry I don’t have a choice. I’m sorry I can’t do more. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

“It’s okay,” Hyun-su said with that same gentle smile. “I get it.” And then he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him with unnerving finality.

“Be safe, Hyun-su,” Eun-hyeok whispered to the empty lobby.

~ ~ ~

“God dammit,” muttered Hyun-su, rummaging through the cabinets in someone’s kitchen. “Who the hell doesn’t have bottled water?” The thing they needed most right now, and of course he couldn’t find it. That being said, he wasn’t sure if he’d had bottled water in his apartment either, though in his defense he’d had next to no money and even less will to live.

A balloon popped out in the hallway, and something growled; Hyun-su froze, his gaze snapping to the open door.

The monster’s skin was purple and bloated like a days-old corpse, its gait stiff and clumsy. A twisted horn protruded from one eye; with its blind side to the open door, it stumbled by unaware of Hyun-su crouched inside. Its footsteps faded away. Letting out a slow breath, Hyun-su stood—

—and promptly stepped on a packet of ramen.

Hyun-su’s body was ducking before he had time to think. With a whistle and a crunch, the creature’s horn punched through the drywall where his head had just been.

“Idiot!” snarled his own monster. “You’ll get us killed!” It dashed out into the hall. Hyun-su caught a glimpse of the corpse-like creature, a new horn sprouting from the hollow of its eye, before his body bolted for the stairs. The creature bellowed behind him; Hyun-su’s monster reached the end of the hall, blazing past the placard reading 11^th floor, and ignoring his cry of protest, promptly vaulted over the railing and plummeted 3 stories down. Their heels hit the ground with an audible crunch of bone, and Hyun-su’s ankles exploded in pain.

What the hell is wrong with you!? he screeched.

“I’m keeping us alive, dipshit!” spat the monster. A crash sounded from above; they glanced up to see the horned creature stumbling down the stairs at an alarming speed, banging into walls along the way. “Fuck. We need to go.”

A low growl sounded from behind them; Hyun-su’s heart skipped a beat. Slowly, carefully, the monster in Hyun-su’s body turned, wide black eyes traveling up to meet slit-pupiled yellow ones.

It was a woman, or it had been. The smallest traces of femininity still lingered in her face, the shape of her jawline and the curve of her cheekbones, shadowed by a curtain of matted black hair. But that was where the similarities ended; her jaw was split back inhumanly far, revealing a row of jagged fangs permanently bared. She was tall, so much taller than he’d thought, limbs too long and corded with muscle, her hands blackened and rough, melting into wicked claws. Her clothes were torn from the chitinous spikes that protruded from her back, leading all the way down to the sinewy tail that swept the floor behind her.

“Oh, shit.” Hyun-su was shoved unceremoniously back into his body, suddenly feeling very alone under the yellow-eyed monster’s gaze. Behind him, the corpse-like monster stumbled down the last few stairs, and those piercing eyes snapped to it. The thing that was once a woman snarled, clawed feet clicking against the tile as she stepped forward. Heart thundering and thoughts rushing blindingly fast, Hyun-su staggered away; his ankle buckled, sending him crashing to the floor. The horned monster’s single eye looked to him in delight; its attention was quickly redirected as the thing that was once a woman roared. It hissed, gaze flicking between Hyun-su and the larger monster. It tried to lunge past her; she pounced, driving it into the wall hard enough to crack the brick. Her claws dug into it and the creature screeched, shooting off a horn that missed by a mile. Blood sprayed and bone crunched; Hyun-su watched, barely breathing, as she ripped the other monster apart chunk by bloody chunk, the horrible shrieking never stopping, pieces of discolored flesh splattering against the floor. Her jaw opened horrifyingly wide and clamped over the monster’s throat, and with a fierce shake, she ripped its head clean off. The mangled body spasmed once, twice, then fell still in a pool of its own blood and viscera. Slowly, almost leisurely, the thing that was once a woman straightened, dropping the disembodied head and kicking it away. She tilted her head back and let out a roar, so long and loud it shook the very foundations of the building. Hyun-su swore he could hear the cries of monsters on the other floors as they fled; he felt his own monster try to shrink even further back in his mind, as if it could crawl down his brainstem and hide behind his ribs.

The noise died down, and the thing that was once a woman turned to Hyun-su, whose heart nearly leapt out of his chest. But there was a softness to her eyes that didn’t match the blood drying on her face or the roar that still echoed in his ears. She approached with slow, soft steps, her shoulders low and back hunched. Hyun-su crawled back until his shoulders hit the wall, breaths rocketing in and out of his chest. The yellow-eyed monster made a mournful sound, the corners of her eyes creasing, and ever so carefully sat down just over a meter from him. A low croon rumbled from deep in her chest. Hyun-su stared wide-eyed and shaking in every limb as she looked him over, pausing on his bruised ankles. Her tail flicked against the tile.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He wasn’t sure he could have spoken louder if he wanted to. “They’re broken. I can’t—I can’t leave.” The monster churred and slow-blinked at him.

She sat with him for what must have been hours, keeping watch as his bones knitted themselves back together. The monster inside him stayed quiet and hidden. Finally, when the sun shone low through the west side windows and Hyun-su felt confident enough in the structural integrity of his ankles, he rose. The thing that was once a woman blinked at him; he hesitated, gave her a quick bow and a muttered thanks, and limped down the hall. Returning to her hollow underneath the stairs, she watched him go.

.

.

.

Hyun-su slipped through the lobby doors, closing them carefully behind him. This proved to be a waste of time when a body slammed into him and his back hit the door with a loud BANG.

“You’re alive!” gasped Eun-yu. The relief on her face was short-lived; she pulled back and punched him across the face, teeth bared in a half-snarl.

“OW—what the hell is your problem!?” Hyun-su snapped, his eyes gone black.

“Don’t give me that shit!” Eun-yu spat, jabbing her finger into his chest. “What the fuck did you do?!”

“What did I—” the yellow-eyed monster’s roar echoed in the back of his mind; the black dropped from his eyes. “Oh. You guys heard that, huh?”

“Kid, I think the whole building heard that,” said Sangwook. His clothes were wrinkled and he had dark circles carved under his eyes; guilt weighed heavy in Hyun-su’s stomach. “Tell me you weren’t anywhere near whatever that was.” Sheepishly, Hyun-su looked away; Sangwook paled so rapidly it was a miracle he didn’t pass out. “You were?”

“I’m gonna throw up,” said Eun-yu, bracing her hands on her knees. Hyun-su reached for her shoulder in alarm, finding her similarly pale. Her expression had not lost any of its ferocity, however, as she glared up at him so intensely, he thought he might burst into flames. “What the fuck. You can’t fucking do this to us, Hyun-su.”

“Sorry?” Hyun-su offered, slightly panicked. “Please don’t freak out, I promise I’m fine—”

“FOUR HOURS, HYUN-SU!” Eun-yu fumed, grabbing him by the front of his hoodie and shaking him. “We thought you were dead! Don’t ever fucking do that again!”

“Seconded,” Sangwook agreed, sitting down heavily on a crate by the door. “Christ.”

“Is he back?” Ji-su skidded into the lobby, Jaehyun close behind. “Holy shit, Hyun-su! What the hell was that sound?”

“Are you alright?” Jaehyun asked.

“I’m fine,” Hyun-su insisted. “Are you guys okay? You look…" his eyes flicked over Ji-su’s tangled hair, Jaehyun’s wrinkled shirt and glasses sitting askew, the bags under Sangwook’s eyes, Eun-yu’s fingers creasing her jacket in a death grip.

Like shit, his monster supplied.

“…tired,” he decided instead. “Where’s Eun-hyeok?”

“Hopefully taking a goddamn break,” Ji-su muttered. “He’s been doing damage control for the past few hours. People are freaking the fuck out, and I can’t say I blame them.”

“Please, Hyun-su, just tell us what happened,” Jaehyun said.

“R-right. Well,” Hyun-su scratched his head, wincing. “You were right about there being a new monster. I ran into it on the 11^th floor, it chased me down to the 8^th, and…”

“Oh my god,” Ji-su breathed. “Were you on the north side?” Hyun-su’s silence was deafening; Sangwook buried his face in his hands and Jaehyun crossed himself.

“Of course you were,” Eun-yu swore, throwing her hands up. “For FUCK’S sake!”

“Did you see it?” Jaehyun asked in a low voice.

“Yeah.”

“Did it see you?”

“…Yeah.”

“Kid, how are you not dead?” Sangwook demanded. Hyun-su hesitated.

You can’t tell them, his monster hissed.

Why? She didn’t hurt me.

You think they’ll believe that? She’s not like us. They’ll kill her if they think they have a chance.

Since when do you care if a monster dies?

Idiot! If they’ll kill a monster that didn’t even attack first, what do you think they’ll do to you?

“Hyun-su?” Jaehyun asked. “Are you alright?” Hyun-su’s gaze flicked to his good hand, resting lazily against the hilt of his sword. His stomach rolled.

“I’m fine,” he forced out. “I was able to get away while it was distracted by the other monster.” He shifted the bag over his shoulder. “Where’s Eun-hyeok? I should probably talk to him after I drop this off.” He didn’t even wait for a response before walking away, steps just a little too quick, legs shaky with the barely contained urge to run.

Smooth, commented the monster.

“I panicked,” Hyun-su whispered. “You’re no help at all.”

The monster laughed. 

Chapter Text

He didn’t know why he’d come back here.

Ever since his involuntary quarantine had ended, Hyun-su had steered clear of the arcade, and for good reason; he was pretty sure the stain he was staring at right now was his blood. The walls seemed steeped in his misery, traces of it hanging invisibly from the rafters, tucked between crates, lingering in the darkest patches of shadow. Yet here he was, lying on the pallet he used to call a bed, staring up at the ceiling in silence.

“Hey,” came Eun-yu’s voice. Hyun-su lolled his head to the side, watching as she sat cross-legged by his feet. “What are you doing in here? I thought we were done with this place, it’s such a bummer.”

Hyun-su didn’t respond; Eun-yu sighed. “Look, I know you didn’t tell us everything. Something else happened up there, something you don’t want everyone else knowing.” She leaned forward with her elbows propped on her knees and her chin in her hands. “So?” 

Black eyes met hers.

“Why should I tell you?” the monster asked.

“Because we’re besties,” Eun-yu replied with a grin. The monster wrinkled its nose.

“No, we’re not.”

“Maybe not you and me, but Hyun-su and I are.” Her grin widened as the monster scowled. “Still in denial?” The monster rolled its eyes and handed off control to Hyun-su, who stared at Eun-yu with a lightness in his chest he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I’m your best friend?” he whispered.

“Who else was it going to be, Sangwook?” Eun-yu scoffed. “Come on, spill. What’s got you so fucked up?”

 Hyun-su hesitated.

“You really can’t tell anyone,” he said. “Not even Sangwook.”

“I’m no snitch,” Eun-yu replied, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “I lie to Sangwook all the time.”

“I’m serious,” Hyun-su insisted. “They won’t understand. They might try to kill her.” 

That caught Eun-yu’s attention, her gaze turning sharp.

“Who?”

Doubt stirred in Hyun-su’s gut; he paused.

For fuck’s sake, either tell her or don’t, the monster complained. The indecision is killing me.

“The monster on the 8^th floor,” he said. Eun-yu’s eyes widened.

“It’s a she?”

“Yeah.” Hyun-su sat up, staring down at his hands folded in his lap. “I wasn’t lying about most of it. There was a new monster, it chased me to the north side stairs and I. Um. Jumped from the 11^th floor to the 8^th.”

“You WHAT?” Eun-yu demanded.

“It wasn’t my idea, okay? It was his.” Hyun-su tapped his temple.

Snitch.

“I am going to have words with him,” Eun-yu muttered. “Okay. Jumped down three stories for whatever fucking reason, then what?”

“Well, my ankles were broken from the fall—” Hyun-su sighed at the stormy look that crossed Eun-yu’s face. “—I know, I know, you can yell at him later—but neither of us even realized we were on the north side until we saw her. Then the other monster showed up, and…” he shivered. “She ripped it apart. I don’t think there was even enough left of it to regenerate. I thought for sure she’d do the same thing to me, I couldn’t run, but… she didn’t. She just sat there with me until I could walk again.”

Eun-yu let out a long breath, running a hand through her hair.

“That’s…wow. Why would she do that? I thought she didn’t like you.”

“That’s what I thought, too!” Hyun-su threw his hands up, a flicker of black crossing his sclera. “It doesn’t make sense. What changed?”

“Guess she just hated that other monster more.” Eun-yu shrugged. Her eyes lit up with mirth. “Maybe she felt bad for you.” Hyun-su wrinkled his nose.

“Really?” he said flatly. Eun-yu cackled.

“Yeah, you’re a real damsel in distress, aren’t you?” Hyun-su glared at her, and she waved him off. “Okay, so this monster—god, we need to give her a name, this is going to get so confusing—do you think she knew you were also a monster?”

“Maybe. I mean, she saw the eyes.” Hyun-su leaned back and folded an arm under his head. “Isn’t it a little weird to give her a name? I mean, she must have had one before she turned.”

“Fine, a nickname. Unless you want to go rummaging around the 8 ^th floor trying to find out who she was,” Eun-yu suggested. Hyun-su winced.

“Yeah, I don’t think that would work very well. Not a lot of her old face is left… it’s mostly teeth.”

“Woah, seriously?” Eun-yu leaned forward with morbid curiosity. “What does she look like? Give me some ideas here.”

“Okay, so…” Hyun-su sat up again. “Her jaw opens really wide. Like…” he traced a finger under his cheekbone. “Just all teeth, all the way back. No lips or anything. She’s super tall too, like… 2 and a half meters? Maybe 3. And she’s got these huge claws…”

~ ~ ~

“I can’t believe we’re even talking about this,” Hyun-su fumed, pacing back and forth across the office.

“Kid, you could have died,” Sangwook said.

“That’s true every time I go upstairs! I can’t just stop now!”

“Look, I know we’re all still rattled from what happened yesterday, but I think Hyun-su is right,” Jaehyun said. “The danger level upstairs hasn’t really changed. I think we can assume the monster on the 8 ^th floor was always capable of this.”

“And you want to send him back up there with that thing!?” Sangwook snapped.

“I’ll be fine!” Hyun-su protested.

“Obviously I don’t want to, but we don’t have a choice,” Jaehyun said, his voice carefully even.

“Of course we have a choice! We can’t just throw him back to the wolves like this!”

“I’m right here!” Hyun-su snapped. “Would you lay off? I’ve been doing this for months, I can take care of myself!”

“You can’t face off against something like that! It’ll tear you apart!” Sangwook shot back. Something dark roiled in Hyun-su’s chest; his monster snarled.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he hissed.

“Oh, really?” Sangwook replied. “Because it seems pretty clear-cut to me!”

“Would you just—”

“Enough!” Eun-hyeok’s fist slammed down on the desk. Sangwook and Hyun-su startled; Eun-hyeok took a deep breath and let it out slow, pushing up his glasses. “We are running out of food. We’re in need of water more desperately than ever now that the tank is contaminated. Regardless of how we feel about the risk, Hyun-su cannot stop going on supply runs.” He met Hyun-su’s gaze with grim resolve. “If you think you can still go up, I’m going to trust your judgement. Jaehyun is right, until Mr. Han is done with the car, this is our only choice. Hyun-su keeps going upstairs, and that’s final.”

“Thank you,” Hyun-su muttered, shifting his bag over his shoulder and heading out into the hall. Sangwook glanced between Eun-hyeok and the door, brow furrowed and an argument caught in his throat, before shaking his head and following after Hyun-su.

“Kid, listen,” he said, jogging to catch up. “You know I’m just trying to look out for you—”

“I never asked you to,” snapped Hyun-su, walking faster. Sangwook kept pace, undeterred.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so eager to throw yourself into the line of fire all the time! You’re letting them push you too hard, you don’t need to take on responsibility for everyone’s lives!”

“Yes, I do!” Hyun-su exploded, whirling around. “I’m the only one who can do this! You think I could sit around down here all day doing nothing, knowing that I could help? This is my responsibility!”

“You’re way too young for this!” Sangwook hissed. “You know as well as I do, this is too much to be putting on your shoulders! I’m not just going to stand here and watch you throw your life away for these people!”

“That’s not your call to make! If I want to risk my life so everyone else can survive, that’s my decision! You don’t get to make that choice for me!” Hyun-su set off again at a brisk walk, Sangwook close on his heels. “Just back off, will you? I don’t need your help, and I certainly don’t need your protection!”

“You think I don’t know what this is really about? I’ve seen your scars!” Sangwook snapped. Hyun-su flinched. “You don’t get to do this, kid, not while I’m around! I’m not going to let you kill yourself up there!”

Hyun-su whirled around and grabbed Sangwook by the front of his shirt, slamming him into the wall. Sangwook wheezed for breath, eyes widening at the black overtaking Hyun-su’s sclera and the snarl twisting his face.

“You forget who you’re talking to,” the monster hissed. “You really think you can stop me from doing anything? You’re human. I could rip you apart without breaking a sweat.” It pressed Sangwook further into the wall, his heels leaving the floor. “You think you’re in charge here? You’re only able to push us around because I let you.” It leaned closer. “Don’t you dare, not even for a second, think you can control us. You don’t have that kind of power.” It dropped Sangwook into a heap on the floor, watching impassively as he gasped for air, before turning on its heel and walking away. Sangwook stared after him with wide eyes and a pit of dread opening in his stomach.

.

.

.

“I can’t believe he fucking said that,” Hyun-su fumed as he climbed the stairs.

Yep, said the monster.

“I mean, seriously! What gives him the right!?” Hyun-su grabbed the railing and swung himself up from the last step, setting off at a brisk walk down the hall.

Mhm.

“Does he really have that little faith in me? I’ve survived this long, I think that should count for something!” He turned a corner, his pace never faltering. “I swear, he treats me like some kind of—”

Hey, idiot. Where the hell are you going? Hyun-su stopped in his tracks as his eyes finally focused on the dark stairwell at the end of the hall. The very familiar, very bloodied stairwell.

“I…um…shit.” Why had his feet led him here, of all places? Hyun-su wracked his brain, but the answer eluded him. He glanced back the way he came, then at the shadowy stairwell ahead. Well, if he was already here…

I can’t believe you, said the monster as he began walking again. Maybe Sangwook was onto something.

“Shut up,” muttered Hyun-su. “You can’t tell me you’re not curious too.”

I can, actually. I could live without knowing what the hell her deal is.

As they neared the stairs, yellow eyes blinked at them from the shadows. Hyun-su gulped, his steps slowing.

“H-hello,” he whispered, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat; the thing that was once a woman watched impassively. “Is it, um, okay for me to be here?"

Slowly, the yellow-eyed monster uncurled and stood, her tail slithering against the floor. Hyun-su’s knees went weak as she ducked out from under the stairs and into the light, still terrifyingly tall, all sharp edges and lean muscle, jaw bristling with teeth. Yet she blinked at him, slow and relaxed, and a churr rumbled in her chest.

Hyun-su glanced over at the foot of the stairs. The wall was cracked and the floor bloodied, but the remains of the horned monster were gone.

“You seem to have cleaned up,” Hyun-su managed. The thing that was once a woman yawned terrifyingly wide and licked her chops; her tail flicked, sweeping a cracked femur out from under the stairs with a clatter of bone on tile. Hyun-su’s stomach rolled.

The yellow-eyed monster lumbered past and ducked into the nearest apartment, the spikes on her back clacking against the splintered door frame. Unable to help his own curiosity, Hyun-su followed. The floor was strewn with crumbled brick and drywall; the outer wall of the building was almost completely gone, the morning breeze sweeping into the room and stirring up flurries of dust and dead leaves. The thing that was once a woman sat on the floor and leaned up against what remained of the wall, gazing outside. Hyun-su picked his way around the debris strewn on the floor to join her. Below lay the town square, pavement overrun with grass and weeds, storefronts laying dark and abandoned, broken glass glittering under shattered windows and doors hanging off their hinges. Despite the disarray, it was quiet, peaceful, nothing but the rustle of leaves and the chirping of morning birds breaking through the still air.

“Nice view,” Hyun-su commented. The thing that was once a woman gave a contented rumble, her tail swishing in lazy arcs across the tile. Hyun-su straightened and shifted his bag over his shoulder. “I’ve got to get going. I’ll be back later, if that’s okay?” 

The yellow-eyed monster churred, her gaze never leaving the square. Hyun-su nodded to himself, picked his way back across the room, and with one last glance at the monster seated on the floor, stepped out into the hall again.

Chapter Text

“I’m back,” said Hyun-su, ducking into the apartment. “I found some water. Not as much as I was hoping for, but…” he stared into the corner of the room with an incredulous look. “What the fuck are you doing here!?”

“What? You said she was chill,” Eun-yu replied. She sat inches from the yellow-eyed monster, who seemed unbothered.

“I did not! Are you insane?” Hyun-su chucked his bag onto the dust-covered bed and sat down on its edge, his expression hanging somewhere between dismay and defeat. “Why the fuck would you come here?”

Eun-yu chuckled and shook her head. She hopped up from the floor and placed her hands on his shoulders, looking him dead in the eye.

“Hyun-su,” she said seriously. “Did you really think you could tell me about a friendly monster, and I wouldn’t come check it out?”

“’Friendly’ isn’t the word I would use,” Hyun-su mumbled, looking away. Eun-yu laughed and slapped his shoulder, stepping aside.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Lot of bones in here.” She waved vaguely to the pile in the corner. “You’re not going to believe this, but she didn’t even growl at me when I showed up! I think she likes me!” She placed her hands under her face, preening. “Must be my natural charm.”

“Huh.” Hyun-su leaned forward against his spear. “Maybe she’s okay with humans?”

“See, I was thinking the same thing,” Eun-yu said, her eyes brightening. “But come check this out.” She ducked back out into the hall; before Hyun-su could parse whether she wanted him to follow, she was back, something white and roundish in her hand. She held it out triumphantly.

“Is that—” Hyun-su gagged. In her hands sat a human skull, a twisted horn protruding from one eye socket and a row of snaggletoothed fangs jutting from its jaw. “You touched that? With your bare hands?”

“There’s no meat left on it,” Eun-yu said. “You’re missing the point, anyways. This is the monster that chased you down here, right?”

“Yeah, what’s left of it,” Hyun-su replied, eyeing the skull nervously.

“Very clearly a monster skull, right? Because it’s all fucked up?” Eun-yu gestured to the horn and the jagged teeth.

“…Sure? Eun-yu, what’s your point?”

“I’m getting there. Here, hold this—” she reached out with the skull, and Hyun-su scrambled to his feet, backing up hurriedly.

“No way, I’m not touching that thing!”

Eun-yu gave a frustrated sigh. “Quit being such a bitch, just—” she shoved the thing into his hands and moved away, leaving him to grimace and shift his grip so only his fingertips touched its surface. Bones clattered as Eun-yu rummaged through the pile in the corner. “Okay, now look at this one!” She held up a second skull, this one far more ordinary in appearance. She stumbled back around the bed and grabbed the monster skull in her other hand; Hyun-su wiped his hands on his jeans. “Come on. What do you see?”

“Evidence of extreme violence?” Hyun-su offered. Eun-yu glared at him, and he threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know, what do you want me to say? It’s a skull.”

“A human skull,” Eun-yu insisted. “Not a monster one.”

“We can’t know that for sure,” Hyun-su said. “Some monsters look more human than others. Like me.”

“You don’t count, you’re not a full monster.” Eun-yu chucked the skulls aside, and Hyun-su flinched as they clattered to the floor. The yellow-eyed monster glanced over, then turned back to her outside view. “But that got me thinking. You said she must know you’re a monster because she saw your eyes, right?”

“Yeah?”

“And she didn’t kill you.”

“Well, no, but—” Hyun-su shook his head, frowning. “I’m an outlier. You said it yourself, I don’t count.”

“How about the first time?”

“What?”

“The first time you saw her,” Eun-yu said. “When she roared at you and scared you halfway across the building. Were your eyes black then?”

Hyun-su was silent for a long moment.

“No,” he said carefully. “They weren’t.”

Well, I’ll be damned. She might be onto something.

Hyun-su shook his head vigorously. “That doesn’t mean anything. I might register as a monster all the time, even without the eyes. We can’t be sure.”

“Maybe not,” Eun-yu said, “But that still doesn’t explain why she’s suddenly fine with you. Whatever her deal is, I don’t think it’s as simple as humans versus monsters.” She nodded to the skulls on the ground. “She clearly kills both.”

~ ~ ~

“Jaehyun, seriously. Stop hovering.” Ji-su set down the case of water bottles with a grunt.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jaehyun said, looking rather disappointed at the small box of food he carried in his good hand. “I just wish I could help more. You sure you’re okay carrying those? They’re pretty heavy.”

“No heavier than my speaker system,” Ji-su said, hefting up another case. “Probably lighter, actually.” She glanced over at Eun-yu, who sat perched on the countertop. “Are you going to help?”

“You seem to have it handled,” Eun-yu replied with a saccharine smile.

“Eun-yu,” scolded Hyun-su and Eun-hyeok at the same time. They exchanged stunned glances. Eun-yu rolled her eyes.

“Can’t have any fun with you two around,” she sighed.

“You told me I was your best friend,” Hyun-su said, affronted. Eun-hyeok raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, so he’s your best friend now?” he said. Eun-yu squinted at him.

“What’s it to you? You never hang out with me anyway.”

“What are you talking about? You actively avoid me.”

“Like the plague,” added Ji-su. Eun-yu glared at her, face reddening.

“You—shut up! Get out of here!” She snatched a pen from Hyun-su’s hand and lobbed it at her brother’s head. “Go do something useful!”

“We need those,” Hyun-su protested weakly. Wordlessly, Jaehyun passed him another. Eun-hyeok ducked into the back room, failing to fully hide the smile that crept across his face.

“What an asshole,” Eun-yu muttered. “Worst leader ever. We should unionize.”

“To be part of a union, you’d have to actually do some work,” Ji-su said. Eun-yu opened her mouth to bite out what would surely have been a scathing response but was interrupted by the front door creaking open.

“Stop,” said Seungwan. His jaw trembled and he shifted from foot to foot, but his shoulders were set and his eyes narrowed. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice if you ran away?” The others exchanged puzzled looks; Eun-hyeok stepped out from the back room, stopping short at Seungwan’s glare.

“Seungwan, we’re not leaving,” Ji-su tried.

“I saw his notes!” Seungwan pointed at Eun-hyeok with a shaking arm. “’Move with minimum numbers?’ You’re ditching us so you can survive! Well, I don’t think so. I want my share right now!” He tried to snatch the box from Jaehyun’s hand.

“Please, stop!” said Jaehyun, holding firm.

“Fuck, I just can’t trust anyone anymore!” Seungwan let go and lunged for another package on the counter; Jaehyun hooked an arm through his and pulled him away.

“Hey, calm down. Let’s talk.”

“Don’t touch me, you shit!” Seungwan shoved him back; Jaehyun’s bad shoulder hit the fridge, and he grunted in pain.

“Hey!” Ji-su lunged forward, but stopped short when Seungwan pointed a boxcutter at her, the blade extended. Jaehyun’s eyes widened; Hyun-su stepped in front of Eun-yu before the thought even crossed his mind, ignoring the smack to the shoulder he received in turn.

“I’m not going to die here like this,” Seungwan snapped in a wavering voice, trembling in every limb. “I’m leaving here on my own! You!” He pointed the blade at Eun-hyeok, ignoring his small flinch and Eun-yu’s cut-off cry of protest. “Give me the car keys.” Eun-hyeok didn’t move, his face carefully blank. Seungwan surged forward, knocking over boxes in his path, and brandished the boxcutter in his face. “Come on, you fucking asshole! Give me the damn keys! Give them to me right now, you son of—"

A hand grabbed Seungwan by the back of his shirt. Sangwook hauled him back and slammed him into a crate with a ferocity that belied the blankness of his face. The blade clattered to the ground; Sangwook’s fist cracked across Seungwan’s face. He wasted no time dragging Seungwan out of the storage room and into the lobby. Eun-yu and Hyun-su exchanged stunned glances and rushed to follow.

The residents gathered to the sound of Seungwan’s shouts as Sangwook threw him against the outside gate with a cacophonous rattle of metal.

“Why don’t you go out there, then?” Sangwook said, his voice deadly cold. “See how long you last on your own.”

Seungwan let out a scream of pure animal rage, thrashing and kicking on the floor.

“You don’t know what it’s like to have your life in someone else’s hands all the time!” he shrieked. “It’s not fair!” His face was red, spittle flying from his lips. The residents watched with a mix of fright and morbid curiosity.

“What are you doing?” demanded Mr. An, emerging from the crowd. “Do you want the kids seeing this?” Su-yeoung and Yeoung-su, huddled together with Jin-ok, watched with wide glassy eyes. Yeoung-su clutched his dinosaur close to his chest; Su-yeoung’s knuckles were white with her grip on Jin-ok’s cardigan.

“Who cares what the kids see!?” spat Seungwan. “We’re all going to die anyway!” Several people flinched, and Yeoung-su’s eyes began to water.

“No.” Mr. An stepped forward, his expression stony. “Not all of us will. People who act stupid like you do, just because they’re afraid, are the ones who die first.” He grabbed Seungwan’s knee, startling him. “Get a grip! You want to survive? Then pull yourself together, and do better!” Hesitantly, Seungwan gave a shaky nod; the whole crowd seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “Now…” Mr. An stood and looked around. “Would anyone care to explain what’s gotten this young man so worked up?”

Standing beside Eun-yu and Hyun-su, Eun-hyeok sighed and buried his face in his hands.

“I’m so tired.”

.

.

.

Eun-hyeok stared at the chalkboard, the color-coded text scribbled in his own handwriting, ideas boxed and connected with rushed, imprecise lines. He turned to face the survivors. Some sat on the floor like the kindergarteners the classroom was meant for, others on desks or chairs too small for them. Eun-yu lounged on a stack of blankets, twirling her hair between her fingers; Hyun-su was perched on a stool in the back corner of the room, looking for all the world like he was trying to hide in the shadows.

“We need to venture outside,” said Eun-hyeok. The weight of two dozen anticipatory stares lay heavy on his shoulders. “We only have 5 days’ worth of food. We’ll search the nearest convenience store first.”

“Isn’t it too dangerous?” Ji-eun asked in her soft voice.

“We’ve been preparing. Mr. An scouted the area—” the old man gave a lazy salute from where he leaned against the wall— "and Mr. Han has been working on the car.”

“Hold on there, four-eyes,” interrupted Byeong-il. Eun-hyeok gave him a dry look. “Who’s going, then? Are we going to draw straws?”

“It’s an important mission,” said Eun-hyeok. He held back a wince; the words sounded childish coming out of his mouth, like a kid trying to play leader. “Those most likely to succeed will go.”

“Like who?” asked Hye-in.

Eun-hyeok smiled. “I’ve got some ideas.”

.

.

.

“Me?” scoffed Sangwook, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “You want me to go?”

“I thought that part was pretty clear,” Eun-hyeok shot back. Jaehyun snorted from his table across the shop; Sangwook glared at him. “You’ve got the necessary skills, and you’re in charge of food. You’ll know better than anyone what we need.”

“You don’t even know what kind of person I am,” Sangwook insisted. Eun-hyeok sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I cannot express to you how much I don’t give a shit,” he bit out. Sangwook blinked. “I’m in no position to pass moral judgement. You’re strong, you’re competent, and you can get the job done. That’s all that matters to me.” He leaned forward with his hands on the desk. “No one benefits if we all die. Help us, and you help yourself.” He walked out without another word, leaving Sangwook and Jaehyun to stare after him.

“Well, would you look at that,” said Jaehyun. “He’s really growing into the leadership role. That’s nice to see.”

“Maybe for you,” grumbled Sangwook. “Kid’s just a pain in my ass.” He fished a cigarette from his jacket pocket.

“You shouldn’t smoke in here,” Jaehyun said. Sangwook ignored him. “So, are you going to do it? Be a good Samaritan, join the team?”

“Don’t see why I should.” The ignition of Sangwook’s lighter rasped, the flame springing to life.

“Well, Eun-hyeok had some good points. You’d be saving your own hide, if no one else’s. Have you ever saved someone’s life?”

Sangwook went still, his gaze going distant. He was hit by a flash of memory: the wet crunch of a monster’s skull under his boot, Eun-yu huddled against a wall with wide eyes and blood splattered on her face.

Jaehyun leaned forward as if he was sharing a secret. “It’s a good feeling. You might learn something from it.”

“I’m not looking for spiritual guidance,” Sangwook said, his voice just a touch too sharp.

Jaehyun raised his hand in surrender. “Suit yourself.”

They lapsed into silence, Jaehyun taking tiny sips of his soju, Sangwook staring down at the lighter in his hands.

The door jingled and in stepped Seungwan, his shoulders hunched, wringing his hands. He shuffled up to the desk and bowed. Sangwook blinked.

“I deserved to get hit,” mumbled Seungwan, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I’m very sorry.”

Sangwook was silent for a long moment; Seungwan shifted nervously.

“I’m… sorry too,” Sangwook said. Seungwan looked up, his eyes wide. “For hitting you. We’re adults, we should be handling our problems better than that.” Bewildered, Seungwan nodded and bowed again, turning to leave. “But Seungwan?” He glanced back and flinched at Sangwook’s steely gaze. “Pull a knife on those kids again, and I’ll do something much worse than hit you.”

Wide-eyed and trembling, Seungwan gave a jerky nod and fled, the door swinging shut behind him. Sangwook settled back into his chair.

“Your manners have gotten better,” Jaehyun commented, spinning the soju bottle in short turns. “Well, sort of. Got to set a good example for the kids, right?”

Black eyes flashed through Sangwook’s mind; he winced.

“They’d be better off without me,” he muttered. Jaehyun regarded him curiously, and Sangwook couldn’t shake the feeling that those eyes could see right through him.

“You want to talk about it?” Jaehyun asked carefully. Sangwook scowled at him. “Yeah, that’s pretty much what I was expecting. Sorry I asked.”

Sangwook got halfway through his cigarette before an image came to mind: the armored van wrecked, its hood crumpled and sparking dangerously, Hyun-su’s bloodied form slumped over the dashboard. Sangwook flinched and shook himself as if to dispel the thought. He stewed in anxiety for a moment, fidgeting in his seat, before standing up with a muttered curse and stubbing his cigarette out on the desk. He grabbed his sledgehammer on the way out. Behind him, Jaehyun smiled.

“I thought so,” he said to the empty shop.

Chapter Text

This is a stupid idea, the monster said as Hyun-su climbed into the van.

“Would you rather starve?” Hyun-su asked.

“Sure wouldn’t,” Ji-su said, sliding into the driver’s seat. Hyun-su winced. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m nervous too. It’s not quite the same as going upstairs, is it?”

Hyun-su nodded. The passenger door swung open and Sangwook stepped in; Hyun-su’s shoulders tensed.

Sangwook met his gaze and sighed. “Look, kid—"

“No.” Hyun-su’s voice came out dead cold; even he was a little shocked by it. “I’m not talking to you.” He turned away and crossed his arms, trying to ignore the childishness of it. Sangwook let out a defeated breath and faced back towards the front. Ji-su glanced between them with raised eyebrows.

“Alright, well, I’m not touching that with a 10-foot pole,” she said, releasing the parking brake and shifting the van into drive. “Everyone just play nice, and let’s get this done as quickly as possible.”

“Fine by me,” Sangwook said as they pulled out of the garage. Hyun-su didn’t respond, pulling out his phone and shielding the screen from the sun pouring through the windows. It flickered to life, and his stomach dropped.

There it was, sitting innocently in the middle of his lock screen: August 25 – Suicide. His hands felt numb; the screen went dark again, and he barely noticed. He remembered keying it in, sitting on a bare mattress in his apartment, the floor cluttered with boxes he would never unpack. The way it shone cheerily up at him in simple, default font, like it was nothing more than a doctor’s appointment or a reminder to pay his electric bill. He hadn’t even realized the date was creeping up on him. Looking at it now felt like a taunt. Too late, it seemed to say.

What’s wrong with you? his monster demanded.

“Nothing,” Hyun-su mumbled. Ji-su glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “It’s nothing.”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He barely had time for the alarm to register before something collided with the side of the van, the metal screeching. His whole world lurched, rolled, and went black.

.

.

.

Something was roaring.

Hyun-su jolted awake to a thousand pains, his head throbbing the loudest of them all. Blood dripped down his face, smeared from hairline to collarbone, drying tacky on his hands. He struggled upright, gasping at the pain in his ribs.

The van was flipped onto its roof several meters away, the side crumpled inward where the monster’s foot had connected. Hyun-su couldn’t see Ji-su or Sangwook. The hulking form of the protein monster lumbered towards him, teeth bared in a vicious grin that twisted its misshapen face. Hyun-su scrabbled for his spear and staggered to his feet. He lunged forward on unsteady legs and jabbed his spear into the monster’s calf, his ragged battle cry lost to the crackle of electricity. The monster bellowed and swatted him away with a hand the size of a car door. Something in his chest snapped as he hit the ground; his vision whited out from the pain. He gasped for breath that never came, each spasm of his lungs sending a fresh wave of agony lancing down his back.

Get up! screeched his monster. We’re not done yet!

Hyun-su’s vision returned just in time to see the protein monster lobbing a massive cement pipe in his direction. He barely escaped its shadow in time, his knees buckling as a spray of dirt and rubble rained down on him. His legs felt like jelly, limp and useless, dirt catching under his fingernails as he tried to drag himself away. There was a growl and the sound of something heavy dragging through the dirt.

Glass shattered; the protein monster bellowed, swatting at the smoking flesh of its back. Hyun-su stared in shock.

“Get lost, you son of a bitch!” hollered Mr. An. A second Molotov in hand, he swung his arm in two wide circles like a professional baseball player before letting it fly. The bottle soared through the air in a perfect arc and exploded against the monster’s back in a whorl of flames. The monster wailed and fell to the ground, rolling in the dirt to smother the fire.

Mr. An rushed to Hyun-su’s side with a haste uncharacteristic of a man his age. He grabbed Hyun-su by the hoodie and hauled him to his feet, dragging him along. Hyun-su struggled to keep up on numb, wobbly legs.

Then Mr. An stumbled to a stop with a choked noise, clamping a hand over the lower half of his face. Blood dribbled damningly between his fingers. Hyun-su’s heart dropped into his stomach; Mr. An met his frantic gaze with the controlled panic of a man who had just seen his life flash before his eyes. A shadow fell over them, and slowly, they turned. The protein monster towered over them with its twisted grin.

Mr. An shoved Hyun-su away. He tumbled into the dirt, unable to pick himself up again despite how his conscience screamed at him not to leave the old man behind. Mr. An stared up at his approaching doom with steely resolve. Blood gushed down his chin.

“Live,” he said, his bloodied hand still outstretched. The monster wound back a massive fist, and terror climbed up Hyun-su’s throat.

The last thing he was expecting was for a fire truck to appear out of nowhere and slam into the monster at full speed, Yi-kyung at the wheel hollering a battle cry. The beast stumbled and the truck bounced back; Yi-kyung slammed her foot down on the gas and it lurched forward again, plowing into the monster before it could regain its balance. It howled and scrabbled at the hood, gravel sliding under its heels as the truck pushed it away from Mr. An and pinned it against the wall of a nearby building.

Oh, she is definitely going to die, Hyun-su’s monster said. Hyun-su ignored it and pushed Mr. An back towards the doors, rushing back to the overturned van. Ji-su was out and prying the passenger door open with her bat. She wedged her foot into the crack and gave a mighty kick; the warped door popped loose, its damaged hinges squealing.

“Sangwook?” Hyun-su asked, skidding to a stop by the wrecked car as Ji-su crawled inside.

“He’s unconscious,” she said. Sangwook was slumped against what was once the roof of the van, blood smeared down his face. Ji-su tugged at his seatbelt. “Damn it! It’s jammed.”

You need to get out of here, the monster said.

“Yeah, I kind of got that,” Hyun-su replied, glancing over to where the protein monster was reaching through the shattered windshield of the fire truck.

Not that, you idiot! Can’t you smell it? The car’s leaking gasoline!

“Oh, shit.” Now that it had been drawn to his attention, the acrid scent hanging in the air seemed obvious. There was a puddle forming under the van; nearby, a fallen power line sparked. Hyun-su’s stomach dropped. “Ji-su, we need to hurry.”

“Working on it!” Ji-su snapped. She sawed at the seatbelt with a broken piece of glass. The progress was frustratingly slow.

“Give me that.” Hyun-su shouldered her aside, grabbing the shard from her hand, and hacked at the seatbelt with renewed vigor. The edges bit into his palm; he ignored it.

Are you seriously doing this? his monster hissed.

“I’m not leaving him here!” Hyun-su retorted. The glass was becoming slick with his blood. He readjusted his grip with a gasp and a wince.

You’re wasting time! Is he really worth dying over?

Hyun-su sawed harder. The smell of his blood mixed with the scent of gasoline. He was pretty sure he could feel the glass grinding against the bones in his fingers. The protein monster roared and Ji-su tugged on his hoodie, begging him to hurry. The seatbelt was down to its last few fibers; Hyun-su swore, and with two wild half-stabbing-half-sawing motions, the belt snapped. Heavy footsteps shook the ground as he hauled Sangwook out of the wreckage.

“In here!” shouted Ji-su, pulling Sangwook’s arm over her shoulder and towing them towards one of the massive cement pipes. She was the first in, dragging Sangwook after her. Hyun-su had barely made it in himself when the van exploded into a massive plume of fire and smoke. The protein monster bayed, and the heat seared Hyun-su’s back; he gasped and braced his arms against the sides of the pipe, blocking the opening with his body. The flames cast harsh shadows over Ji-su’s frightened face. Sangwook was awake and staring in horror at the smoldering edges of Hyun-su’s hoodie, the back reduced to char, the smell of burnt skin and hair stifling in the small space. Hyun-su twisted around to look outside, grunting at the pull of burns already half-healed; behind him, Ji-su gagged.

Sparks flew from the protein monster’s arms, its skin smoking as it roared and tried to bat away the flames. The fire engine barreled into it, and it snarled, hooking its hands under the bumper and heaving. The truck’s front wheels spun uselessly above the dirt; the monster’s grip slipped, and it crashed down on all four wheels again, lurching forward and shoving the monster along with it. The monster’s feet scrabbled in the dirt, but the truck plowed unstoppably onward, driving the beast straight through a mass of flaming scaffolding and off the cliff. There was an earth-shaking thud and the sound of piercing flesh, and the monster howled. Yi-kyung threw the truck into reverse and rocketed backwards, stopping a sizeable distance away with a screech of the brakes. Then, like the world’s biggest and reddest battering ram, the truck surged forward and shoved a blazing shipping container off the edge. The monster’s wails were drowned out by the crash of metal and the crackling of flames.

Hyun-su clambered out of the cement pipe, breathed a shuddering sigh of relief, and collapsed face-first into the dirt.

“Shit!” Ji-su cried, her voice echoing oddly from inside the pipe. “Hyun-su?!”

“I’m okay,” Hyun-su said, rolling onto his back. “I’m okay. Just give me a minute.” He stared up at the sky, chest heaving, and smiled despite the insanity of it all.

You’re so stupid, his monster said. Hyun-su didn’t reply, too busy listening to his heart pound away behind his ribs.

Chapter Text

Sangwook burst into the infirmary, wide-eyed and disheveled, still wearing the same bloodstained shirt he’d had on when Yu-ri checked him out earlier.

“Yu-ri,” he said, voice wavering. “Yu-ri, I think I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying,” Yu-ri said. “You can’t possibly have gotten into that much trouble already. What’s going on?”

“I can still smell the smoke,” Sangwook muttered. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, fixed on a point somewhere to the left of Yu-ri’s face. He swayed, throwing out a hand to steady himself against the wall, and shook himself roughly. “I can’t find Hyun-su. Has he come by?”

“No,” Yu-ri said carefully, “But he heals, Sangwook. You know this.”

“You don’t understand,” Sangwook rasped. “He got burned. Badly. And the smell—” he squeezed his eyes shut, stomach rolling. “You didn’t see it. It looked like—like—"

Like me, he didn’t say. The scars on his back itched. “What if it healed wrong? He could get sick if it gets infected, he—"

“Sangwook,” Yu-ri interrupted. “You need to calm down. You’re going to pass out if you keep working yourself up like this.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him down to sit on the bench; he went distractedly, staring off somewhere in the distance, his breath rasping in his chest.

“Hey. Look at me,” Yu-ri said firmly. His wide eyes snapped to her. “You’re hyperventilating. I need you to take some deep breaths, alright? In for four seconds, hold for four, out for four.”

Sangwook’s first breath shuddered back out after just two seconds. Yu-ri squeezed his shoulder and nodded encouragingly. “It’s okay, try again. In, two, three, four, hold, two, three, four, out, two, three, four.”

Sangwook sucked in a breath, held it till he thought his lungs would burst, and let it out as slowly as he could manage, his heart thumping frantically against his ribs.

“Good,” Yu-ri said, “Keep going. Hyun-su’s fine, I promise. I saw him when he came in, and he was completely healed. Not even a mark on him.”

Sangwook nodded distractedly. With each successful breath, the frantic fluttering of his heart slowed, the burning in his lungs faded, and the simmering of anxiety in his veins died down. Slowly, the adrenaline drained, and exhaustion rushed in to take its place. Sangwook dropped his head into his hands with a heavy sigh.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “What the hell was that?”

“You had a panic attack,” Yu-ri said, patting his shoulder. Sangwook glanced at her in exhausted confusion; he felt more like he’d been run over by a bus. She stood and offered a hand to pull him to his feet.

“You look like you could use a drink,” she said. “Let’s go see if Jaehyun is busy.”

.

.

.

“It’s so fucked up,” Sangwook slurred, slouching in his chair, his face flushed with drink. “Because I wake up, and he’s right there, covered in blood, burning his fucking skin off shielding me and Ji-su from the flames.” Yu-ri poured him another shot, and he knocked it back without hesitation, gasping at the burn. “And he’s in pain, I know it, I can see it in his face, I remember how much burns like those hurt, but he won’t move. And I want to yell at him to stop being so stupid, to get the hell down because if anyone can handle a little fire, it’s me, but I can’t say a word. It’s like sleep paralysis, this nightmare unfolding right in front of me, and I can’t do a damn thing about it. And the smell—you know what burning flesh smells like?”

“I have a bad feeling you’re about to tell me,” said Jaehyun, pouring himself another shot.

“It’s like meat cooking,” Sangwook said emphatically, his eyes grave. “It smelled exactly the same when my father died.”

Yu-ri’s eyes went wide; Jaehyun choked on his drink.

“We shouldn’t have gotten him this drunk,” Yu-ri said.

“Need I remind you, this was your idea,” Jaehyun replied.

“And then he turns around,” Sangwook rolled on, like they hadn’t spoken at all, “and holy shit, it looks so bad. Blood and blisters everywhere. I’m already thinking about how many months it’ll take to heal, how much pain he’ll be in while it does, how bad the scars will be. It’s already fading, but I barely notice because I can’t get that image out of my head. And for a moment, it’s like I’m back in the house again, and everything I care about is going up in flames.”

Sangwook sat back in his chair heavily. His frantic energy dissipated, leaving a vague sort of sadness on his face and a defeated air about him as he frowned at something invisible in the distance. He reached blindly for the soju bottle.

“Nope,” Yu-ri said, swiping the bottle and putting the cap back on. “I think you’ve had enough.” She eyed Jaehyun pointedly, the silent message of say something clear in her expression. Jaehyun sighed.

“Look, Sangwook,” he said, putting a hand on Sangwook’s shoulder in a way that was probably supposed to be reassuring. Sangwook glanced down at it in confusion. “I know you’re worried, and this… incident has clearly dug up some old heartaches, but I’m sure Hyun-su is fine. He’s a teenager, they have a way of bouncing back.”

“Yeah, it’s called repressing trauma,” Yu-ri muttered. “Sangwook’s a prime example of it.”

Jaehyun shot her a sour look.

“I don’t have any trauma,” Sangwook mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Spoken like a person with trauma.” Yu-ri poked him in the leg with her shoe; he glanced at her blearily. “Hey, buck up. Hyun-su’s a tough kid, he’ll be fine. I’m sure he’s just off doing whatever it is teenagers do these days.”

~ ~ ~

Wake up.

Hyun-su jolted out of his dozing, his head jerking up from the side of the crate he rested against. Yi-kyung stood before him, a look of steely intent in her eye, the half-light of the room casting strange shadows over her face. The hairs on the back of Hyun-su’s neck stood up; he had the eerie feeling he was face-to-face with a version of Yi-kyung he hadn’t met.

She grabbed his wrist, and before he could react, pulled a knife from her belt and cut deep into the back of his hand. He yelped and snatched his hand back, staring up at her with wide eyes and blood running down his wrist.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked. Yi-kyung grabbed him again, yanking his arm away from his body, and watched as the wound healed, flesh knitting itself back together in a matter of moments. The look in her eyes made his skin crawl.

“What was the first symptom you had?” she demanded. “A nosebleed? Passing out? Tell me when it was exactly.”

Hyun-su, mute with fear and confusion, waited for her to explain. She didn’t.

“What?” he managed.

“You have to remember,” Yi-kyung insisted. “It was the day you became a monster.” She stepped closer; Hyun-su drew back. “I heard it speaks to you. Does it?”

Hyun-su stiffened, fear making way for alarm. “Who told you that?”

“Be honest,” Yi-kyung said, “Have you ever completely escaped from it?”

Hyun-su’s eyes flickered black and a wicked grin spread over his face.

“How could he?” asked the monster. “I’m part of him.”

Yi-kyung took a step back, eyes narrowing.

“You,” she said, voice cold. “Who are you?”

“I’m someone who can tell you what you need to know,” the monster said. It cocked its head at her, considering. “But I’ll be wanting something in return.”

“Just tell me,” Yi-kyung snapped. The monster looked her up and down, taking in her clenched fists, squared shoulders, and ramrod straight spine. It smiled wider.

“August 1^st,” it said, leaning back on its hands. “The day of the first symptom. A nosebleed.”

Yi-kyung breathed a sigh of relief, some of the tension in her stance draining. “So it’s been more than 15 days.”

“Now, why would that matter?” the monster mused. Yi-kyung glared at it. “Oh, come on. Quid pro quo. I gave you what you wanted, so tell me…” it leaned forward, its grin all teeth and malice, eyes dark and unnatural. “What did you find out there?”

Reluctantly, Yi-kyung sat down against the wall, her eyes never leaving the monster’s.

“I came here to speak to Hyun-su,” she said. “Can he still hear me?”

“I am Hyun-su,” the monster replied.

Quit lying, Hyun-su scolded. The monster hissed at him.

“He can hear you,” it said begrudgingly. Yi-kyung blinked away her confusion.

“Right. Well, I ran into some soldiers,” she said. “They caught me, to be exact. Apparently, there were other people who tried to resist monsterization. The government carried out experiments on them to find a way to stop this disaster.”

Interesting. The monster tilted its head. “And were they successful?”

“You should be asking me what happened to the people who were used in those experiments,” Yi-kyung said, her face pinched.

“I’m sure they suffered terribly,” the monster said dryly, not an ounce of empathy in its voice.

Yi-kyung frowned. “You really don’t care at all, do you?”

“No. Why should I?”

“They were people,” she said, anger coloring her face. “People like you. If you’d been there, you would have suffered the same fate.”

“But I wasn’t,” the monster said with a crooked smile, “And I never will be. So tell me what they found out, or the suspense will kill me before the government can.”

Yi-kyung’s lips thinned and she gave a frustrated sigh.

“15 days after the first symptom,” she said. “If you last that long without turning, you become what they call a special infectee. The soldiers are looking for more.”

“And you told them about us,” the monster said. Something like grief crossed Yi-kyung’s face, and she nodded, unable to meet their eyes. The monster scoffed. “Selling out your neighbors to save your own hide. I thought you humans were supposed to be better than that.”

“You would have done the same thing,” Yi-kyung snapped.

“Of course I would,” said the monster, standing up to leave. It paused at the door and shot her a cold smile. “That’s the difference between you and me, Seo Yi-kyung. I know I’m a monster; you’re still pretending to be something good.”

Chapter Text

“A cure,” Hyun-su said, tapping his fingers on his knees. The yellow-eyed monster glanced down at him where he sat by her side. “They’re making a cure.”

Cool your jets, they don’t have one yet. Why else would they be looking for special infectees?

Hyun-su didn’t respond, his gaze burning holes in the floor tiles. The news didn’t excite him the way he thought it would; rather, it made him nervous. He found himself hoping Yi-kyung hadn’t told anyone else yet. He didn’t think he could stomach the survivors’ reactions, how they’d go back to walking on eggshells around him.

It hurt a little to admit it, but Hyun-su had gotten used to being a monster. He’d gotten used to being needed, important in a way he never was as a human. Most of all, he’d gotten used to the voice in his head dishing out cutting sarcasm and occasional threats of violence, constantly bothering him, constantly getting on his nerves. As much as he despised it at times, he’d become accustomed to the company. He didn’t think he could bear to be alone in his mind again.

Yeah, we all know how well that usually goes for you, the monster commented. The scar on Hyun-su’s arm itched.

“See, this is why I don’t fucking like you,” he bit back. The monster cackled.

Footsteps thumped on the stairs below. Hyun-su and the yellow-eyed monster glanced up as Eun-yu came into view, lightly flushed and panting. She drew in a deep breath and smoothed back her hair, then leaned an arm against the stairwell and grinned suavely like they hadn’t just seen her compose herself.

“Madame President,” she said, throwing the yellow-eyed monster a two-fingered salute. To Hyun-su: “Loser.”

“Hey,” Hyun-su protested weakly. His monster took control just long enough to shoot Eun-yu a middle finger; she grinned wider. “Were you even trying to be quiet?”

“What’s the point?” Eun-yu shrugged, ducking under the stairs and sitting cross-legged opposite him. “Queenie will take care of it if anything follows me.” The yellow-eyed monster churred and flicked her tail.

“Queenie, huh?” Hyun-su said.

“Yep. ‘Cause she’s the boss around here, and all the other monsters know it.” Eun-yu flicked a piece of drywall at him; it hit his shoe and crumbled. He tossed one halfheartedly back at her. Queenie watched with what might have been amusement, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

“You’re sulking,” Eun-yu accused.

Hyun-su frowned. “No, I’m not.”

“You are. You get this look on your face whenever someone gives you a hard time.” Eun-yu smacked her fist into her palm. “Who was it? I’ll beat them up.”

Hyun-su snorted. “I doubt you could beat up Yi-kyung.”

“Says you. I’d catch her by surprise, she wouldn’t even know what hit her.” Eun-yu made a vicious movement with her fist, which could have been a right hook or a swipe with her knife. “She’s been weird ever since she got back. What’d she bother you for?”

“She wanted to see if I was still infected, I guess. I’m not sure why.”

Oh, we’re lying to Eun-yu now? This ought to be good.

“Uh-huh,” Eun-yu said, raising an eyebrow. “Well, you should come back downstairs. Yi-kyung got the fire truck hooked up to a hydrant, we’ve got water again. And you desperately need a shower.”

“Rude,” Hyun-su said, but got up to follow her anyway.

~ ~ ~

The survivors gathered in the daycare for dinner, everyone in high spirits after getting the chance to shower again. Caught up in lively conversation, they almost didn’t notice when Seon-yeoung stepped in, silent as a wraith.

“I think I should go outside,” she said in a voice hardly louder than her footsteps. “I’m starting to have symptoms.” The conversation in the room died out, a heavy air of dread taking its place. “I should have told you sooner, I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t want to believe it myself.” Seon-yeoung’s smile was small and bitter, fading quickly. “I can’t put everyone in danger. I should leave before it’s too late.”

“Still, you shouldn’t go outside,” Jin-ok said, her voice gentle.

“She’s right,” Hye-in said, nodding hurriedly. “You’re still human, you’ll die if you go outside!”

“What?” interjected Jae-hwan with a look of disdain. “I mean, we can’t let her stay here.”

“Quiet,” Byeoung-il bit out. His conflicted expression turned nervous as Eun-hyeok appeared, standing near the door by Seon-yeoung. The tension in the room skyrocketed.

“Why don’t we hold a vote?” Byeoung-il blurted. He looked around the room. “Just vote how you want. Because this is like…” his gaze landed on Eun-hyeok, whose face remained carefully blank. “…taking part in murder.” Byeoung-il let the declaration simmer, then raised his hand resolutely. “I vote she stays in the arcade.”

Hye-in’s hand shot up without hesitation. “I’m in favor.”

Seungwan raised his spoon. “M-me too. Maybe she can hold out like Hyun-su.”

Slowly, one by one, each person in the room raised their hand. Perhaps most surprising was Eun-hyeok, who raised his hand without taking his eyes off Seon-yeoung’s face. Her teary expression hung somewhere between defeat and affection, touched by the sentiment of the group even as they went against her wishes.

“It’s settled, then,” Eun-hyeok said, looking around the room full of raised hands. “She stays in the arcade.”

.

.

.

“Seon-yeoung,” Byeoung-il said as he unlocked the arcade, “please don’t be too upset about this, or about Seok-heon.” He looked down, wringing his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Seon-yeoung said with a soft, sad smile. “Thank you.”

Byeoung-il nodded jerkily, his gaze never leaving his feet.

“Seon-yeoung,” Hye-in said, her voice unusually gentle. “You’ll be fine. Let’s meet again, okay?” She tried for a reassuring smile; it came out timid and strained. Seon-yeoung met her watery eyes, and something in her own expression relaxed, becoming less forced and more genuine.

“Okay,” she said. “Take care.” She caught a glimpse of Byeoung-il staring nervously at something over her shoulder. She followed his gaze to Hyun-su, emerging from the shadows looking confused and a little lost. She gave a bittersweet smile and stepped out to meet him, taking his hands gently.

“Ms. An…” Hyun-su said, soft and terribly sad. His gaze flicked over her face as if searching for something to say. Seon-yeoung let out a shuddering breath, her eyes shining with tears.

“How did you bear it?” she asked in a voice hoarse with too much emotion. “How did you do it? Now I know how you suffered, but there’s nothing I can do for you.” A choked sob escaped her; Hyun-su’s heart lurched in his chest. He squeezed her hands as she cried, despairing that he had nothing better to offer her as comfort.  

With difficulty, Seon-yeoung drew herself together and met his eyes, looking for all the world like she was moments from falling apart again.

“I’m sorry,” she said, voice breaking, “for being a terrible grown-up.” She squeezed his hands and let go, turning back to the arcade. The door rattled shut behind her, chains clinking as Byeoung-il replaced the padlock, and Hyun-su’s heart crumbled to pieces behind his ribs. Something wet streaked down his cheeks.

The monster was blessedly silent.

.

.

.

“I could sure use a drink on a day like this,” Byeoung-il muttered, swiping a finger through the flame of the candle he held. He didn’t stray close enough to the wick for it to burn, but from the look on his face, he wouldn’t mind if it did. A similar mood weighed on the shoulders of everyone else in the daycare.

“There you go again,” scoffed Jae-hwan, sitting down and putting in his earbuds. “That’s why you have terrible skin.” Across the room, Sangwook debated the merits of taking a swing at him; maybe it would knock loose the sense of empathy he seemed to have forgotten. From the look on Byeoung-il’s face, he wasn’t the only one who was considering it.

“Well, don’t you think Ms. An can hold out like Hyun-su?” Seungwan asked timidly.

“I hope so,” said Ji-eun. Hye-in sighed.

“I thought it was just her husband, but her whole life is awful,” she said glumly. From her seat on the counter by Sangwook’s shoulder, Eun-yu shot her a dirty look.

“Lady, your face is awful,” she bit back. Sangwook tapped her shin in admonishment; she jabbed him in the ribs with her shoe.

“I agree with Byeoung-il,” said Jin-ok as she stepped back inside, carrying a tall glass jar of wine and berries. She set it on the table. “We could definitely use a drink today.”

“Is that bokbunja?” Byeoung-il gasped, scrambling upright in his seat. “The color’s stunning. It looks too good to drink, can we really drink it?” The survivors gathered around, chattering excitedly; Eun-yu hopped down from the counter before Sangwook could think whether he should stop her.

Mr. An knelt by the table and put his nose to the wine, taking a long, thoughtful inhale.

“It’s at least 4 years old,” he declared. Jin-ok smiled and nodded. “This could be as good as medicine.” Eun-yu pushed forward to take a smell of her own, sighing happily.

“You know, Yu-ri left earlier,” she said to Mr. An with a mischievous grin. “Shall we finish this off before Eun-hyeok shows up?”

Mr. An stuck a finger into the wine and tasted it; the survivors erupted into giggles. Their mirth quickly evaporated as Eun-hyeok appeared at the door, face as impassive as ever.

“Speak of the devil,” muttered Mr. An.

The corner of Eun-hyeok’s mouth twitched upward. “Just don’t forget your duties.” He turned and left without another word, the survivors whispering excitedly behind him. Jin-ok began ladling out the wine.

“Hey, Sangwook!” Eun-yu called. Sangwook had not moved from his chair. “Get up off your ass before we drink it all without you!” The survivors exchanged nervous looks, still not used to the way she talked to him.

“I’m good,” Sangwook grunted. He could still feel the echo of the hangover from when Yu-ri and Jaehyun had gotten him drunk.

“Boo,” Eun-yu jeered. “When did you become Mr. Responsible?”

“I’m not Mr. Responsible. I’m not even stopping you from drinking while underage.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re a pushover.”

Sangwook squinted at her. “You trying to bully me or something?”

“Oh, leave the man alone,” said Mr. An, sitting down with a grunt. “Let him be miserable in peace. Gather around, everyone, I’ve got a story to tell you.”

~ ~ ~

Seok-heon rushed up to the crate where Hyun-su sat. There was blood dried on his face and staining the front of his shirt, something wild and hungry in his eyes.

“You’re holding out,” he said. “How are you doing it? Tell me!”

Hyun-su stared blankly back at him, taking in the greed in the man’s eyes, how he stood there half-smiling like he already expected Hyun-su to give him the answer.

“You’re shameless,” Hyun-su said, turning away. Seok-heon huffed out an angry breath.

“No, no. I have to live. I want to live!” He grabbed Hyun-su by the shirt, his teeth bared and bloody. The hairs on the back of Hyun-su’s neck stood up; this wasn’t how it happened.

“Tell me how you do it,” Seok-heon hissed in a garbled voice. His face blurred, shifting into Seon-yeoung’s. She stared at Hyun-su with dark, miserable eyes, blood running down her chin.

“Help me,” she pleaded. “I want to live. Tell me how to live.”

Hyun-su gasped himself awake. Queenie gave a concerned churr; Hyun-su realized with a jolt that he’d been resting his head against her side.

“Oh, shit,” he mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Did I fall asleep? Sorry.” Queenie rumbled out a nonchalant sound, looking back out onto the square.

Getting awfully comfortable with the man-eater, Hyun-su’s monster commented.

“Yeah? Weren’t you the one telling me to ditch the humans this whole time?”

Well, sure. I just didn’t expect you to listen to me. Bet Sangwook will be thrilled.

“Don’t talk to me about Sangwook,” Hyun-su grumbled. “He’s probably down there with the rest of them, debating if they’re going to lock me in the arcade with Ms. An.”

Wow. You’re in a mood.

“I just—” Hyun-su sighed and put his head in his hands. “She’s been nothing but kind, and things just keep going wrong for her. First her husband, now this? It’s not fair. If anyone deserves a cure, it’s her.”

She was better off without that piece of shit, the monster spat. It didn’t comment further; Hyun-su could feel its discomfort at the mention of a cure. He glanced up at Queenie, who watched the birds outside with rapt attention.

“You don’t seem to have it so bad,” he said. “Are you happy like this? Would you want to take a cure, if you could?”

Queenie didn’t respond, too caught up in watching a wren hop along the railing of a fire escape.

Chapter Text

Yi-kyung set the radio console down on the worktable with a loud thump. It was a big, blocky thing, covered in buttons and dials with a handheld radio attached.

Du-sik raised an eyebrow. “Good afternoon to you too.”

“I pulled this out of the fire truck,” Yi-kyung said. Du-sik eyed the torn wires on the back of the device with an expression that suggested he knew she was being literal. “Can you get it working?”

“If the rest of it’s intact, sure. Looks like all it needs is a power source.” Du-sik dragged over a car battery from his desk. “Do you have a blade of some kind? Strip some of the insulation from those wires.” Yi-kyung obliged, pulling out a pocketknife and carefully scraping away the rubber coating from the torn wires on the back of the console. Du-sik dug a cable out of the crate under his workbench, clipping one end onto the exposed wire and the other to the battery. The radio crackled to life, lights blinking, nothing but static coming through the speakers.

“What exactly are you hoping to find?” Du-sik asked as Yi-kyung fiddled with the tuning knob. “I doubt the local radio station is still broadcasting.”

“Exactly,” said Yi-kyung. “No one but the military will be using radio. If we can tune in to the right frequency, maybe we can find out what’s going on.” She turned the knob one notch at a time, the numbers on the display ticking up at a snail’s pace.

Du-sik sighed. “We might be here for a while.”

.

.

.

“—ispatch, this is Unit 12, over.”

“That’s it!” Yi-kyung said, smacking her hand down on the table. Du-sik jolted awake with a muttered curse.

“You found it?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. The radio crackled.

“Unit 12, this is dispatch. Proceed, over.”

“Movement near west 6^th street, unidentified individuals approaching. Orders, over.”

“Do you have any additional information? Over.”

“Appear human. Moving with an odd gait, could be injured or infected. Impossible to tell at this distance, over.”

“What is your status, Unit 12? Over.”

“Personnel reduced by more than half due to monster activity in the area. Reinforcements currently unavailable, over.”

“Understood, Unit 12. Better play it safe. Shoot to kill, over.”

“Roger that.”

Gunfire cracked over the speakers; Yi-kyung and Du-sik flinched.

“Threat neutralized. Over and out.”

The radio went silent. Yi-kyung and Du-sik exchanged horrified looks.

“We need to take down the SOS sign,” Yi-kyung said.

~ ~ ~

Despite the apparent urgency of the situation, the elevator ride was slow and terribly awkward. Sangwook shifted from foot to foot and avoided eye contact; Hyun-su wasn’t sure what had him so nervous, the approaching military or just being stuck in an elevator with him while neither of them said a word. Personally, Hyun-su thought they had bigger problems than not being on speaking terms, but then again, the news about the military hadn’t rattled him nearly as much as it had the other survivors.

Of course it didn't, his monster scoffed. We knew from the start we’d be killed if any government-sponsored guns showed up. It’s a nasty surprise for the rest of them, finding out they won’t be safe either.

That made sense, Hyun-su supposed. He wondered when he’d become so used to the brutal, dog-eat-dog world they now lived in. It made something sour curl in his stomach.

Finally, the elevator shuddered to a stop on the 15^th floor. Sangwook was out before the doors even finished opening; Hyun-su blinked and followed a beat after. They climbed the stairs to the roof access and Sangwook wasted no time sawing at the knotted bedsheet holding one corner of the banner up. Hyun-su raised his eyebrows but took to the other side. The last fibers snapped under his blade, and with a moment’s hesitation, he let the banner drop. It twisted and fluttered as it drifted down, and along with it, their last hope of being rescued. Something in Hyun-su’s chest tugged at the thought.

“Come on, kid,” Sangwook said. Hyun-su spared one last look at the fallen banner and followed him back inside.

They reached the bottom of the stairs to the sight of a dark figure standing in front of the elevator. They held a weedwhacker with dirty, rusted blades in one hand, its fuel tank strapped to their back. They pressed the down button with a quiet click.

“Is that the security guard?” Hyun-su asked in disbelief. He was hit by a vivid flash of memory, the blade of that same weedwhacker burying itself deep in the wood of a sign just inches from his face. The elevator chimed and the doors opened. The security guard shuffled in, his gait stiff and shambling. Hyun-su’s stomach dropped.

“Shit!” Sangwook surged forward a moment too late. The doors closed and he swore, smacking his palm against the metal.

“He’s going down,” Hyun-su said in a voice full of dread. Sangwook’s eyes widened, and they both bolted for the stairs. The alarm system Hyun-su had set up ages ago was still there, strings looped around railings and crisscrossing the space above the walkway. Hyun-su grabbed one and yanked, the bells attached jingling. Far below, he could just barely hear the shrill ring of the fire alarm on the first floor.

They made it all the way to the 11^th floor before a door burst open and cut Sangwook off from Hyun-su. A mottled reptilian arm swung out, claws twisting in Sangwook’s shirt and pinning him against the wall. The monster was a hideous thing, toothy and eyeless, screeching and scrabbling at the jammed and dented door that was currently the only thing keeping it from ripping Sangwook apart. Hyun-su froze in his tracks.

“Go!” Sangwook shouted. He smashed his sledgehammer into the monster’s elbow with a spray of black blood. “Go, damn it! You have to get there first!” Hyun-su swore and scrambled down the stairs with renewed vigor.

This is taking too long, his monster said.

“I’m open to suggestions!” Hyun-su hissed, trying not to trip as he took the stairs two at a time. His head snapped to the side on its own, putting his gaze on the dizzying drop below. He stumbled to a stop.

“No,” he said, knuckles whitening on the railing. “No way.”

Hey, you’re the one who said you were open to suggestions.

“Yeah, suggestions that aren’t suicide!” Hyun-su snapped. Bile crawled up his throat, and yet he couldn’t seem to force his feet to move. “Three stories was bad enough. This has to be at least ten!”

We’ll survive it. There’s no way you’ll get there fast enough otherwise.

“Dammit,” Hyun-su whined, glancing between the stairs and the drop. His stomach rolled, half nausea and half dread. “Oh god. This is going to suck.” He flung himself over the railing before he could lose the nerve.

The ten seconds that followed seemed to last both forever and no time at all. He plummeted past floor after floor, picking up speed terrifyingly fast, his stomach left behind somewhere above him. He hit the ground with a sickening crack, his tibia punching out through his skin in a spray of blood. His bone marrow turned to magma at the same time his lungs turned to stone, mouth opening in a silent scream, legs buckling beneath him.

Get up! his monster screeched.

“I can’t,” Hyun-su gasped. His leg twitched, and he sobbed. “I can’t. I can’t do it.”

Your friends are going to die! Get up, Cha Hyun-su!

The whirr of spinning blades echoed down the hall. Someone screamed. There was a clash and a screech of metal-on-metal. Hyun-su’s heart skipped a beat. He dragged himself across the floor, legs trailing uselessly behind him. He scrabbled for the door handle, heaved against the crates stacked on the other side, heard one thump to the floor.

He clawed his way upright just in time to see the weedwhacker swing down, motor whirring furiously. There was a terrible wet crunch of blades through flesh, and Jaehyun’s arm flopped to the ground, broken sword still held loosely in his fingers.

Hyun-su screamed. 

Chapter Text

The weedwhacker whirred. The guard howled a guttural, animal sound, flies buzzing in a thick cloud around his face. Blood ran down Jaehyun’s side and pooled in the creases of his shirt. He crumpled to the ground and stared at his fallen arm with wide, hollow eyes. The guard staggered toward the group gathered at the mouth of the hall, weedwhacker raised, blades whirling.

“MOVE OUT OF THE WAY!” hollered Ji-su in the distance. She rocketed down the hall pushing a heavy equipment cart in front of her, closing the distance at a truly alarming speed. Eun-hyeok swore and pushed Yu-ri and Jin-ok out of the way; Byeoung-il did the same with Jae-hwan and Seungwan. Pale and splattered with blood, Jaehyun reached up and clumsily slapped the button to open the elevator doors.

Ji-su skidded to a stop and the cart surged unstoppably onward. It hit the security guard with an audible crunch of bone, plowing through the opening elevator doors and into the back wall with a loud thump. The weedwhacker clattered to the ground and the guard snarled, scrabbling at the cart that pinned it to the wall. Ji-su snatched a knife from her belt and threw it with devastating accuracy. It twirled through the air and buried itself to the hilt in the fuel tank on the guard’s back. Propane gushed down the monster’s side. The elevator doors closed and opened again, blocked by the fallen weedwhacker.  Ji-su whirled around and locked eyes with Seungwan, who held a lit Molotov in his trembling hands.

“Throw it!” she shouted and dove to the side. The doors opened and closed; Eun-hyeok snatched the bottle from Seungwan’s hands and hurled it through the doors just as they opened again. The elevator exploded into flame, the monster inside screeching. The doors clanked open and closed, open and closed, casting shadows over the bright wash of firelight staining the lobby orange and gold. Flies caught fire and spiraled through the air like dying sparks. The monster’s wailing and thrashing died out, leaving nothing but the smell of charred flesh and propane. The survivors watched it all with equal parts horror and relief.

Jaehyun let out a shuddering breath and slumped against the wall. Ji-su’s head snapped up and she rushed to his side.

“Oh my god, Jaehyun,” she gasped. He smiled weakly up at her as she wrestled a strip of fabric free of the sling on his right arm, cinching it tight around the stump of his left. About half of his upper arm remained, the rest laying in a pool of blood across the room. “Just hold on, okay? You’re going to be fine.”

“That was an amazing throw,” Jaehyun rasped. “I didn’t know you knew how to throw knives.”

Ji-su let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, well, what can I say? You inspired me. I’m trying new things.”

Jaehyun stared up at her in awe.

“I’m in love with you,” he said, and promptly passed out.

~ ~ ~

It was by sheer luck that Jaehyun managed to survive.

Stopping the bleeding had been the first issue. Ji-su’s improvised tourniquet had done most of the heavy lifting, but Eun-hyeok still had to cauterize the wound with a blowtorch before they could risk moving him. The smell of burned flesh hung in the lobby for hours; Sangwook avoided it like the plague. He was tired of seeing the people he cared about burn. The real lifesaver had been the pint of O-negative Yi-kyung had brought in from the fire truck; Jaehyun had lost far more than that to the floor of the lobby, but without that extra pint, he probably wouldn’t have had enough blood in his body to keep his heart beating. Sangwook wondered absently how much blood volume a missing arm constituted, then grimaced at the gruesome thought.

Perhaps even more gruesome had been the impromptu skin graft Eun-hyeok had been forced to perform using Jaehyun’s own amputated arm. Yu-ri had said something about it reducing the chance of infection; Sangwook was just glad Eun-hyeok had managed to wait until after the procedure to hurl his guts up in the bathroom. The poor kid had been so pale and shaky that Sangwook had chased him out of the infirmary and told him to go lay down, promising to call for him or Yu-ri if anything happened. Sangwook knew from experience that Eun-hyeok wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon, but some time spent horizontal would still do the kid a world of good.

All this resulted in Sangwook being on watch by Jaehyun’s bedside when Yu-ri returned, a bottle of soju in one hand and a plastic bag of assorted pills in the other.

“These are for Jaehyun,” she said, putting the bag down on the counter, “and this is for us.” She cracked open the bottle and took a huge swig, grimacing and passing it off to Sangwook. He downed a gulp of his own as she pulled up a chair and sat down.

“How are you holding up?” he asked, passing the bottle back.

Yu-ri gave a bitter laugh. “I went to medical school so I could become a nurse, not so I could oversee a skin graft performed by a 20-year-old in an abandoned apartment complex. I feel like I’ve just committed the worst instance of medical malpractice in my entire career.” She shook her head and took another drink. “I’m so not qualified for this.”

“Could be worse,” Sangwook said. “At least he’s not dead.”

Yu-ri snorted. “Always a beacon of optimism, aren’t you?”

A barely-there scuff of shoes on tile had them glancing up. Hyun-su stood in the doorway, shoulders hunched and eyes downcast.

“Hey, kid,” Sangwook said. “How’s the leg?”

“Healed,” mumbled Hyun-su. He looked almost guilty about it. “Is Jaehyun going to be alright?”

“He’s stable,” Yu-ri said with a gentle smile. “We managed to scrounge up some antibiotics, that will help his recovery a lot.”

“That’s good.” Hyun-su met eyes with Sangwook and dropped his gaze just as quickly. “I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t get there fast enough.”

“It’s not your fault, kid,” Sangwook sighed. Hyun-su ducked his head and slipped away into the hall. Yu-ri stared after him with a frown.

“Tell me you’re not mad at that kid,” she said.

“I’m not mad at him,” Sangwook replied, taking a sip of soju.

“You sure? Because he definitely thinks you are.”

“I’m not mad at him,” Sangwook said, a little firmer. “I’m just…” he sighed and put his head in his hands. “I’m tired of seeing people get hurt.”

“I think we all are,” Yu-ri said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

~ ~ ~
Eun-yu found Ji-su sitting against the wall in the bathroom, her knees folded to her chest.

“Hey,” she said brusquely. Ji-su glanced up, tear tracks shining on her cheeks. “What’s wrong with you? Why the hell are you crying in the bathroom like a highschooler who just got broken up with? That’s, like, the opposite of what just happened.”

Ji-su huffed out a weak laugh. “You heard about that, then?”

Eun-yu shrugged. “It’s a small community, word gets around fast. Nothing gets the rumor mill turning like a near-death love confession.” She sat down next to Ji-su and wrinkled her nose. “Jeez. You were always ugly, but you’re way uglier when you cry.”

“You want to live, right?” Ji-su said out of the blue. “You should just act the way you did before. Nothing good will happen if you stick around me.” She let out a shuddering breath and put her face in her hands. “Everyone around me gets hurt. Look what happened to Jaehyun.”

“Wow,” Eun-yu said, “that’s pathetic. You think you’re cursed or something? That you’ve got the worst life out of everyone here? I’ve got news for you, buddy: everyone’s miserable. Hyun-su’s whole family is dead, and so is Sangwook’s. Ms. Cha watched her daughter die. Yeoung-su and Su-yeoung are orphans, and guess what? So are Eun-hyeok and I.” She threw her hands up in the air. “And you know what the worst part about that is? It was my fault our parents died. I’m the one that begged them to take me to a ballet performance even though my dad said he was tired, I’m the reason we were out on the road and got into that car accident in the first place. I made Eun-hyeok an orphan too, and I ruined his life. We’re barely even family without our parents, but he took a leave from school to help me study ballet.” She scoffed, glaring at her shoes. “He’s fucking nuts. He said that it wasn’t my fault. He said it’s okay. Does he think I’ll be okay with it just because he is?” Her eyes shone; she shook herself and blinked hard. “I didn’t want to be indebted to him, so I told myself I’d become a successful ballerina to pay him back later, but now… damn it. My ankle’s so ruined I can’t even do a turn.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall with a sigh. She lolled her head to the side, meeting eyes with Ji-su. “What do you think? Am I pitiful? You seem to think your life is the saddest, but it’s not. Hell, Jaehyun isn’t even dead yet, and you’re out here wallowing in your own self-pity when you could be in there with him.”

Eun-yu shoved Jaehyun’s broken sword into Ji-su’s hands. Ji-su let out a choked sob, which Eun-yu mercifully ignored, standing and heading for the door.

“Don’t try to make yourself miserable,” she said. “Things are bad enough already.”

Chapter Text

Hyun-su wasn’t sure how long he’d been on the roof when he saw it.

He’d come up here to be alone, at least at first. He’d climbed the stairs all the way up, steering clear of the elevator that stunk of rotten fish and burning flesh. He’d opened the door to the roof, feeling the breeze blow through his hair, the air cool with the first hints of winter. The sun hung low in the clouds, the sky strewn in shades of gold and pink and grey. Hyun-su had the absent thought that it would make a great view from the 8^th floor fire escape. Something in his chest twinged, a pang of nostalgia for those evenings spent with Sangwook and Eun-yu. They hadn’t done one of those in ages, not since his fight with Sangwook. Hyun-su shook his head and firmly reminded himself that he was still mad at Sangwook, that he did not miss him. He wasn’t here to think about that, anyway.

He just needed some peace and quiet. Everyone was worked up into a frenzy over Jaehyun’s injury, and boy did that hurt to think about. Hyun-su couldn’t shake the feeling that he should have been there faster, should have found a clearer way to warn everyone, should have gotten there in time to take the hit for Jaehyun. That’s what he was here for, wasn’t it?

I’m tired of this, his monster said. We’re not fucking cannon fodder. Thinking like that is going to get you killed.

“It’s not like I want to get my arm chopped off,” Hyun-su argued. “It’s about minimizing damage. I mean, why do I have these powers if not to keep other people from getting hurt?”

You mean why do you have me, the monster said. You’re being ridiculous. You’re not some chosen one, Hyun-su. You’re just a guy with terrible luck who keeps ending up in shitty situations. It was bad luck that you got infected, bad luck that you didn’t fully turn and ended up as the humans’ attack dog instead, and worse luck that the security guard beat you to the elevator that day. Quit trying to find some greater meaning in it all.

“Bad luck, huh? You wouldn’t even exist if I hadn’t been infected,” Hyun-su said. “You don’t think that’s significant at all?”

Don’t try to rope me into your weird little hero complex, the monster scoffed. You think all those monsters outside are pondering their place in the universe? No. They’re out there fighting and killing and surviving, because that’s what monsters do. We’re no different; our only purpose in being here is to survive. Don’t waste your time trying to find some kind of moral high ground about it.

Hyun-su had just opened his mouth to argue when a flash of movement far out in the distance caught his eye. He snapped to attention like a cat who’d spotted a mouse, scanning the roads below with hawklike intensity. There, on the bridge: the big, blocky shape of a military vehicle, closing the distance fast. Hyun-su had the absent thought that he really shouldn’t be able to see that kind of detail this far out; the other survivors would probably need binoculars or something.

Hyun-su’s stomach dropped.

“Oh, shit.”

He bolted for the stairs. He couldn’t believe he’d made the same mistake twice; first it was Jaehyun and the security guard, now the military was closing in and yet again he was 15 floors away when the survivors needed his help. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

What the fuck are you doing? his monster demanded. If the military is coming, we need to get the hell out of here! Forget the humans, just—

“Just what?” Hyun-su interrupted. “Run? Hide? There’s no point! I’m not just going to leave everyone behind!”

You’re running right into the line of fire, you idiot!

“Jaehyun’s down there,” Hyun-su insisted. “Du-sik. Sangwook. Eun-yu.”

The monster hesitated.

…Fine. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.

.

.

.

You’re so fucking stupid, the monster fumed.

Hyun-su elected not to answer as he and the other survivors were herded towards the center of the room. Eun-yu grabbed his sleeve, and Hyun-su reached back to tangle his fingers in the arm of her sweatshirt.

One of the gangsters, the one in a faded bucket hat, held up a red pastel stick with a sharp grin. Whistling merrily, he traced an uneven circle on the concrete around the survivors, leaving them clustered together within its bounds.

“I think it’s a bit bigger than last time,” commented one of the other gangsters, a man with a long diagonal scar that bisected his face.

Bucket Hat shot him a dry look. “What, should I measure it every time?” He turned back to the survivors with spread arms and a wide grin. “This is your jail now. If you leave…” he glanced over at Ji-eun, who’d been separated from the group and now stood outside the red line, trembling in every limb.

A gunshot rang out. The survivors screamed; Ji-eun stumbled, a patch of red spreading over her shirt. The gang leader, a man with a long scar over one eye, watched her waver as smoke curled from the barrel of his pistol.

Ji-eun collapsed. The survivors erupted into horrified cries, the gangsters shoving them back when they strayed too close to the red line. A man rushed into the room, pushing Du-sik’s wheelchair in front of him, and stopped short at the line, dumping Du-sik out of the chair and into the circle. The gangsters laughed as the survivors clustered around Du-sik and pulled him away from the red line.

“Oh, my legs hurt,” complained one gangster, sitting down in Du-sik’s chair. Another, the man with the diagonal scar, grabbed Ji-eun by the hair and yanked her upright. Blood dripped from her lips.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” demanded Du-sik. He tried to claw his way towards the pair, rage in his eyes; the survivors pulled him back.

“No, Mr. Han, you’ll be killed too!” Byeoung-il cried. The scar-faced gangster grinned.

“Come and take her,” he taunted, winking. Ji-eun coughed up a mouthful of blood. Hyun-su started forward but was stopped by Eun-hyeok’s hand in the back of his sweater. Hyun-su glanced back at him in confusion.

“It’s too late for her,” Eun-hyeok murmured. A tear slid down Ji-eun’s face and she went slack, hanging from the man’s grip on her hair. The survivors gasped and sobbed.

“How could you kill her?” Du-sik whispered, eyes wide and haunted.

The scar-faced man shrugged. “People’s lives are useless these days.” He dropped Ji-eun. Du-sik collapsed in defeat, head bowed against the ground. Ji-eun’s blood shone in small puddles just inches away.

“You’re so emotional,” Bucket Hat chuckled. “Are you going to cry over every person’s death?” Du-sik didn’t respond. Bucket Hat leaned down and tapped his arm with the barrel of his rifle. “Mister, you crossed the line. Go back inside.” The survivors hauled Du-sik back with exclamations of panic.

“You can all live harmoniously in there,” said the gang leader. His scarred eye was a pale blue that didn’t match the other’s brown. “You just have a little less room than before.” He smiled like he hadn’t just killed one of their own.

Hyun-su looked into those mismatched eyes, alight with mirth, and wondered who the real monster in the room was.

~ ~ ~

The gangster who wandered into the infirmary had a face full of piercings and a bored air about him, twirling a hooked wrench between his fingers. His gaze swept around the room as lazily as it had all the others he’d checked; then his eyes caught on the end of a bench just barely visible behind the counter, the corner of a sheet hanging oddly over the edge. He slunk around the counter, the rest of the bench coming into view. A figure lay on top, half-hidden by the sheet draped over them. The gangster reached out with his free hand and flicked back the corner of the sheet. Jaehyun’s face came into view, pale and slack with unconsciousness.

“Another cripple?” the gangster muttered, pulling the sheet further back to reveal Jaehyun’s missing arm. His eyes caught on the bloody bandages around the stump. “Oh… he’s hurt.” He propped one knee against the bench and leaned over Jaehyun, reaching out with the hooked end of the wrench and digging it into the wound. Jaehyun’s brow creased, and a pained noise escaped his throat. Fresh blood bloomed in the bandages. The gangster shifted his grip on the wrench and pressed his fingers into the wound, bringing them up to his lips and licking off the blood. His breath shuddered oddly in his chest.

“They shouldn’t have left you here alone,” he said with a wicked grin. He reached out with the wrench again.

A rushed patter of shoes on tile was the gangster’s only warning before Ji-su slammed into him, knocking him off Jaehyun. They hit the ground rolling and Ji-su gave a mighty twist of her core, flinging the gangster away from her. She rolled onto her feet and brandished Jaehyun’s broken sword in front of her like a dagger.

“You fucking bitch!” spat the gangster, scrambling to his feet. “You’re going to die for that!” He reached for his gun. Ji-su lunged before he could raise it to fire, pinning his arm by his side and driving them both into the wall. The gangster shoved her off, raising his gun. Ji-su ducked and swiped wildly with the broken sword. Blood sprayed from the man’s forearm, and he swore and dropped his gun on instinct. Ji-su kicked it away; the gangster grabbed her shirt and yanked, throwing her off balance. He tackled her to the ground and crawled over her, something wild and hungry in his eyes.

“We could have gotten along,” he said, grabbing her hair. Ji-su yelped and tried to punch him; he knocked the broken sword out of her hand and pinned her wrist. “We could have gotten along real well. You just had to try and kill me first.”

Ji-su shouted and slammed her knee up into his crotch.  The gangster stiffened and curled in on himself with a curse, his grip faltering. Ji-su shoved him off her and scrambled for the broken sword. She turned back and plunged it into his stomach once, twice. The gangster choked and gurgled. She grabbed his hair and yanked his head back, looking into his wide eyes as she held the blade to his neck.

“You should have left him alone,” she said, and slit his throat.

Chapter Text

“I’m Shin Jung-seop,” said the man with the mismatched eyes. “Let’s all get along without fighting.”

“How can you say that after what you did?” snapped Mr. An. The survivors glanced between them nervously. “How can you treat people like this? Do you think we’re animals?”

“Humans are animals,” Jung-seop said with a shrug. “We’re all just animals pretending to be something better. This—” he spread his arms— “the killing, the stealing, it’s our true nature. People like me aren’t afraid to admit that. But I’ll tell you what, if you all do as I say, I won’t kill anyone else.”

It was silent in the lobby for a long moment, nothing but the rustle of clothing and the scuff of shoes.

“So?” Eun-hyeok asked. “What is it you want?”

“I think we should get to know each other,” Jung-seop said. Hyun-su blinked. “Come on, I’m sure you’re curious about us too.”

“Alright, fine.” Eun-hyeok stood. “Tell us where you were before you came here. What happened to the people there?”

“They all died,” said Jung-seop. His tone fell just short of somber, like he was playing at being mournful but hadn’t quite mastered the delivery. It made Hyun-su’s skin crawl.

“Did they die, or did you kill them?” Eun-hyeok asked. The tension in the room skyrocketed. Eun-yu’s fingers tightened in Hyun-su’s sleeve; he resisted the urge to move in front of her, knowing it would only draw attention to them. Jung-seop looked Eun-hyeok up and down, considering.

“It was a small church,” he said. “They’d had it well fortified, so I got my hopes up, but when we got inside, all of them were already dead.” He leaned forward. “You want to know the interesting part? There were no signs that a monster had been there. They all just killed each other.” His piercing gaze swept over the survivors, ending on Mr. An, who stared back with bitter resolve. “You see? It’s not the time to be worrying about monsters. Humans are the scariest.”

“Sir,” said one of the gangsters, holding up a handful of papers. Jung-seop glanced over at him, then turned back to the survivors and smiled.

“Excuse me,” he said, and stepped away.

Eun-yu tugged on Eun-hyeok’s sleeve. With one last glance at Jung-seop, Eun-hyeok went along, crouching down with her and Hyun-su.

“Are you crazy?” Eun-yu hissed. “Stop standing up to them! Do you want to get yourself killed?”

“I’m doing it because I want to live,” Eun-hyeok shot back. He turned to Hyun-su. “We have to wait.”

“For what?” asked Hyun-su.

“It seems like they’re criminals who killed soldiers and stole their weapons,” Eun-hyeok said, nodding towards the gangsters. “But they only have a few guns, and there are dozens of monsters outside.”

Hyun-su’s eyes flicked black. “So?! Are we going to sit around and wait until one of them just so happens to wander outside and get killed?!”

Eun-hyeok swore under his breath and ducked his head, glancing around at the gangsters. “Don’t do that!” he hissed. “We need to keep them from finding out about you for as long as possible.”

Hyun-su shook himself, the black clearing from his eyes. “Sorry. But he’s right, we can’t just do nothing.”

“There will be an opportunity,” Eun-hyeok said. “I’m sure of it. You’re not the only weapon we have.”

~ ~ ~

The sound of a rifle cocking echoed down the hall. Sangwook pointed the gun at one gangster, then the other, both slowly backing up as he advanced. The way he held the gun wasn’t quite right, too low to look through the sights, but at this range, it wouldn’t matter.

The larger of the two gangsters glanced down at the safety of the rifle. It was still on. His eyes narrowed.

“Hey,” he said. Sangwook’s steely gaze snapped to him. “You don’t know how to use that, do you?”

Sangwook turned the gun on him, his face unchanging. The gangster kept his hands raised, eyeing him uncertainly. It was silent for a long moment.

“No,” Sangwook said finally. “I never served in the military.”

The gangster swore and reached for his pistol. “You asshole—”

Sangwook switched his grip to the front of the gun and swung the butt of it into the gangster’s skull with a loud crack. The hit sent him crashing into a steel grate door, where he crumpled to the floor and laid there, unmoving. The second gangster swung his axe down, Sangwook barely bringing up the rifle in time to block it. The gangster pressed down with both hands; Sangwook set his feet and drove him back against a wall, and with a mighty twist of his shoulders, flung the gangster and his weapon away. The axe clattered to the floor. The man swept it up again and scrambled to his feet, teeth bared and stance wide. Before Sangwook could decide what to do next, Yi-kyung appeared behind the gangster, melting out of the shadows without a sound. She drove her knee up into his crotch, grabbed him as he fell, and snapped his neck with a gruesome crunch. The movement was quick, brutal, and most of all, practiced. It made the hair on the back of Sangwook’s neck stand up.

“I thought you were a firefighter,” he said as Yi-kyung dropped the body.

“I used to be in the special forces,” she said. She nodded to the rifle in his hands. “Where’d you find that?”

Sangwook shrugged with an ease he didn’t feel. “Saw you hiding it.” He tossed her the gun. She caught it one-handed and checked the ammo while Sangwook picked up the fallen axe, testing its weight in his hand.

“Come on,” said Yi-kyung, cocking the rifle and clicking off the safety. “We’ve got work to do.” She set off down the hall. The corner of Sangwook’s mouth twitched up, and he followed.

~ ~ ~

“You really made an effort,” Jung-seop said, leafing through the maps and notes from the security office. His gaze swept over the survivors. “Who’s the leader here, huh? Who made these?” He tossed the stack of maps into the circle; the survivors flinched and cowered at the smack of paper on concrete. Hyun-su felt the tension in the air thicken as the survivors weighed their options. Hair rising on the back of his neck, he waited to see who would break under the pressure first.

Before he had the chance to find out, Eun-hyeok stood up. “I did.”

Jung-seop held up one of the data logs written in Eun-hyeok’s handwriting. “It says here that someone performed surgery. Who did that?”

“I did,” Eun-hyeok said again.

Jung-seop chuckled and gave a sharklike grin. “Everyone else here is completely useless. There’s an old man, a cripple, even a kid. This place is the worst so far, but quite a lot of people survived here.” Those mismatched eyes looked Eun-hyeok up and down. It sent a nervous energy crackling up Hyun-su’s spine, the way Jung-seop sized him up like a cat deciding which piece of meat to snatch from the butcher’s counter. “You’re young, but I guess you’re pretty capable. I like you. What do you say, will you abandon them and join me?” He leaned forward, gaze going cold. “Or will you just…die?”

Eun-hyeok just stood there for a long moment, lips pursed. Then he stepped around Hyun-su and picked his way along the edge of the circle. Eun-yu stared up at him, a mix of betrayal and indignant rage coloring her face. Disbelieving murmurs sounded from the survivors as he passed. Jung-seop grinned, chest shaking with muted laughter as Eun-hyeok stepped out of the circle to stand by his side.

“You’re pretty smart, huh?” he said. “Good choice.”

The gangster with the bucket hat rushed into the room.

“Sir!” he said. “There’s a monster here.” The survivors exchanged nervous glances and mutters of confusion; Hyun-su prayed no one was looking at him. His luck must have held out, as Jung-seop and a few of his men filed out into the hall, Eun-hyeok trailing after them.

“I can’t believe he’s fucking ditching us,” Eun-yu fumed. Hyun-su considered telling her, but Eun-hyeok’s words echoed in the back of his mind.

They’re not like you, he’d said. They could all get killed. When the time is right, we’ll act.

Hyun-su wanted to believe that Eun-yu wasn’t like the others, that she was tough and smart enough not to give them away with any suspicious behavior, and in theory, she was. But the fact was that Eun-yu was brash and impulsive by nature, and it made her far too easy to read, regardless of her intentions. It was already driving Hyun-su insane that he couldn’t find Sangwook, that he wasn’t sure if Jaehyun was alright, that he had no idea where Ji-su was; he was not going to put the one person he could protect in danger. So he stayed quiet, ignoring the way his heart lurched at the thinly veiled pain in her face, how she tried to cover it up with anger like she did everything else. He just moved his arm to let her lean against his side, and they waited.

~ ~ ~

Yi-kyung peeked into the room, rifle at the ready, and looked around.

“Clear,” she said, and stepped inside. Sangwook followed and resisted the urge to voice how stupid he thought this was. He’d never put this much emphasis on stealth, but then again, most of the fights he’d been in hadn’t involved guns, much less military-grade automatics.

“Yi-kyung,” said a small voice from above them. They glanced up to see Yeoung-su’s teary face peeking out from a vent. “Mister.”

Sangwook dropped his axe and climbed up the crates stacked in front of the vent.

“Come here,” he said, hands out. Yeoung-su crawled forward and Sangwook lifted him out of the vent, climbing back down the crates to set him on the floor. He kneeled in front of Yeoung-su and looked him over for injuries: none.

“Why did you go in there?” Sangwook asked. He tried to keep his voice calm, but the whole thing had him frazzled, the thought of a child this young being on his own while armed gangsters prowled the halls.

“Well, my mission was to hide,” said Yeoung-su, sounding close to tears, “but I saw Yi-kyung. She’s a secret agent too… and Grandpa wasn’t coming. I was scared.” His lower lip trembled, and a dull spark of panic lit up Sangwook’s chest.

“You did the right thing, Yeoung-su,” Yi-kyung said, still on guard with her rifle pointed towards the door. “Good job staying hidden.” Yeoung-su didn’t quite smile, but he looked a little less miserable. Sangwook let out a silent sigh of relief.

A sloshing sound echoed from the vent, and a vaguely humanoid pile of green goo peeked out at them from the shadows. Yi-kyung trained her gun on it instantly and Sangwook raised his axe.

“Don’t!” cried Yeoung-su, tugging on the backs of their shirts. “It saved me!”

Yi-kyung faltered, the barrel of the rifle lowering a touch as she glanced back at him. “What do you mean?”

“It hid me when the bad men came,” Yeoung-su said. “It’s a good monster. You can’t kill good monsters!”

Sangwook took in Yeoung-su’s petulant frown, then looked back at the slime monster. It watched them with something that might have been apprehension, then turned and sloshed back into the vents without so much as a threatening move. Sangwook met eyes with Yi-kyung and shrugged.

“We’ve seen stranger things,” he said. Yi-kyung’s face was hard, but she nodded and lowered her rifle.

“Better not to give away our position with a gunshot, anyway,” she said. “Let’s go. This area is too exposed.”

Sangwook picked up Yeoung-su and followed her down the hall once more.

~ ~ ~

“She might not be dangerous,” Eun-hyeok insisted. “She’s still human. There are monsters that don’t harm—”

“So?” said Jung-seop. He circled around the arcade, coming face to face with Seon-yeoung, who sat against the pillar in the center of the room. She didn’t so much as twitch, staring listlessly off into space. “She’s going to turn anyway.”

Eun-hyeok fidgeted. “But—”

“You locked her up in here because you were scared,” Jung-seop said. He gave Eun-hyeok a scrutinous look. “You’re such a hypocrite. I thought you were pretty smart, but you’re just a kid.” A few of the gangsters laughed; Eun-hyeok bit down the protest that bubbled in his throat.

Jung-seop crouched down in front of Seon-yeoung and put a hand on his chest. “I’m Shin Jung-seop. I want you to know that it’s nothing personal.” He stood with a grunt and leveled the gun at her head. Eun-hyeok’s heart stuttered. “Do you have any last words?”

Seon-yeoung lunged at Jung-seop with an enraged cry, swiping at him with a jagged piece of metal. One of the gangsters grabbed her by the hair and caught her wrist before she could land a hit. Eun-hyeok jerked forward, but another put an arm out to stop him. Unlike the others with their scars and tattoos, this man had smooth, clear skin, clean and well-groomed in a way his comrades seemed not to bother with. He met eyes with Eun-hyeok and gave a subtle shake of his head.

Jung-seop laughed, wide-eyed and exhilarated. He crouched down to meet Seon-yeoung’s furious gaze.

“You’re the toughest out of all the fucking trash here,” he said. Seon-yeoung bared her teeth; he shoved the gun up under her chin, glancing at Eun-hyeok. “Watch and learn.”

The gunshot cracked, and blood splattered across the wall.

Chapter Text

“’I’ll get things cleaned up in here, Jung-seop,’” mocked Bucket Hat. “He’s acting like he’s so nice. Why not hold a funeral for her while he’s at it?”

Jung-seop’s eye twitched. Bucket Hat didn’t appear to notice as they turned into the lobby, chattering on. “I’m telling you, sir, Ui-Myeong really isn’t suited for our group.”

Jung-seop grabbed Bucket Hat by the front of his coat, lip twitching up over his teeth, and was just about to spit out what surely would have been a cutting reprimand when a gunshot rang out. One of the gangsters on guard dropped like a rock. Yi-kyung rushed out of the shadows, delivered a brutal strike to the head of another with the butt of her rifle, and bolted across the lobby. Bucket Hat fired a flurry of shots that all missed, peppering the drywall with holes. Yi-kyung disappeared down the hall, half of the gangsters peeling off to give chase.

“What was that!?” Jung-seop demanded, practically spitting with rage. “What the fuck was that!?”

Eun-hyeok jumped on his back and wrapped his arms around him, keeping him from raising his gun. “Hyun-su, now!”

Hyun-su broke into a dead sprint and body-checked Bucket Hat, who went down hard, rifle clattering away from him. Seungwan grabbed Du-sik’s wheelchair and plowed forward, running the fallen gangster over with a yelp and a curse. The gangster with the diagonal scar rushed forward with murder in his eyes. Hyun-su collided with him and drove him into a wall, pinning him with his own gun up against his throat. The scar-faced gangster drew a knife and jabbed at his stomach. Hyun-su grabbed the blade with his bare hand, blood streaming between his fingers and dripping down his knuckles. With black eyes and teeth bared in a snarl, he ripped the knife out of the gangster’s grasp, flung it aside, and delivered a brutal punch to the man’s face.

Gunfire cracked and a bullet ripped through his shoulder. Hyun-su went down like a sack of bricks and tried not to scream as fire lanced down his arm.

“Everyone stop!” shouted Jung-seop. He planted a boot on Eun-hyeok’s chest and pointed the still smoking barrel of his gun at his head. “Let them go, or I’ll blow his fucking brains out.”

God, that fucking hurts! spat Hyun-su’s monster. His shoulder throbbed viciously; he was pretty sure he could feel where the bullet had impacted bone. Get up, I’m gonna kill this bastard.

Not while Eun-hyeok is in danger, Hyun-su insisted.

We don’t even like him.

That doesn’t mean I want him dead. Besides, the others aren’t safe either. He glanced at Eun-yu, who stood stock-still in the center of the circle with a horrified look in her eyes. Begrudgingly, his monster settled.

The survivors backed off, releasing the gangsters they’d managed to wrestle to the floor. Bucket Hat stumbled to his feet and swept up his rifle again, leveling a venomous look at the residents. He turned towards Jung-seop and froze, wide eyes fixed on something over his shoulder.

“Sir,” he said in a voice full of dread.

At the mouth of the hall stood Seon-yeoung. Blood stained the back of her shirt and pants, like she’d been lying in a puddle of it. There was blood smeared under her chin as well, twin trails dried on the sides of her neck. Her face was eerily blank.

She advanced with small, slow steps. One of the gangsters fired at her; her shoulders jerked, stopping in her tracks. Then her eyes went murderous, fixing on the man as she strode forward. He fired one shot, then another, each coming faster and more frantic until she was right in front of him, plunging her hand through his throat with a gruesome squelch. The survivors and gangsters alike watched in transfixed horror; even Jung-seop looked alarmed. Seon-yeoung let the gangster choke on his own blood for a long moment, then retracted her hand with a sound like metal scraping against bone, fingers dripping with red. The man collapsed into a heap on the floor. Seon-yeoung’s gaze fixed on Eun-hyeok, and she moved towards him, a coldness in her eyes that sent shivers down Hyun-su’s spine.

“No, Ms. An…” Hyun-su rasped, struggling upright on a shoulder that felt like it was full of hot nails. Seon-yeoung drew her arm back, a murderous twist to her face, and plunged it forward—

Straight through Hyun-su’s chest.

It hurt more than he could describe. He heard Eun-yu’s yelp from across the room, Eun-hyeok’s shuddering breaths from behind him, the gentle tap tap tap of droplets hitting the floor. The jagged spike of Seon-yeoung’s arm jutted out of his back, blood dripping from the pointed end, more soaking the front of his shirt and trickling down his spine. He gasped and stumbled as she pushed forward, that killing rage still fixed on Eun-hyeok, her weaponized arm driving further into Hyun-su’s chest. Still, he set his feet and held his ground. Seon-yeoung’s lip twitched up in a snarl; it looked so wrong on her face, nothing like the gentle and mild-mannered woman they’d come to know. His gaze flicked desperately over her in search of something familiar, something human. There was nothing, just fire in her eyes and rage in her stance, cutting harsh lines into her face. She tried again to lunge forward, as if she meant to rip through Hyun-su to get to Eun-hyeok. His feet slid another inch on the tile.

She wasn’t going to stop, he realized with a rush of dread. He had to do something. But this wasn’t some nameless, faceless monster from the upper floors. This was Ms. An. Kind, softspoken Ms. An, who always had a sadness to her smiles, who lived a life of fear and violence long before the disaster struck. Ms. An, who’d rather brave the horrors outside than put her neighbors at risk. Ms. An, who couldn’t have been a monster if she tried.

Ms. An, who was already gone.

Hyun-su’s monster took control with a gentleness he didn’t know it was capable of. If any of the survivors noticed the way his eyes went black, how the anguish on his face dimmed but didn’t disappear, they didn’t voice it. They just watched alongside Hyun-su himself as his hands wrapped around Seon-yeoung’s throat and squeezed.

It felt like it went on for hours. Seon-yeoung’s face reddened. Her eyes bulged. Veins stood out against her forehead. Hyun-su could feel the hot rush of blood under her skin, under his hands, how her pulse throbbed faster and faster until it began to slow. Horror crawled up his spine as he watched his own hands choke the life out of her, and it didn’t make it any less painful to know he wasn’t the one behind them.

Finally, Seon-yeoung’s eyes rolled back and she went slack. The monster let her body slip to the floor, fingers twitching.

“I’m sorry,” it said in a hoarse voice. “I had to.”

Hyun-su wasn’t sure if the words were for him or for Seon-yeoung. He was given no time to speculate, as his knees buckled and everything went black.

~ ~ ~

Jung-seop kneeled by the pair of bodies on the floor. He stuck his fingers into the hole in the back of Hyun-su’s sweater, finding no wound underneath the blood-soaked fabric.

“You’re keeping something strange,” he mused, rubbing blood between his fingers.

“Sir,” said the scar-faced gangster. “He’ll recover soon.”

Jung-seop didn’t look up, transfixed by his bloody fingers.

“We should kill…” he said slowly, “…every monster.”

The next few minutes passed in a blur. Eun-yu watched as the gangsters poured gasoline over Seon-yeoung’s body, flinching with the others at the strike of a match and the roar of flames. Hyun-su didn’t stir, not at the crackle of flames, not even when the gangsters dragged him into the elevator and hit the button to the roof. He just laid there, limp and bloody, as the doors closed. Eun-yu remained staring at them long after the elevator had left, something strange and hollow in her chest. She felt numb, distant, like she was hovering an inch above her own skin.

“Eun-yu,” said a voice. She glanced over, a little delayed, to see Eun-hyeok beside her in the circle again. There was something almost earnest in his expression. “He’ll be alright.”

Clarity rushed back to her in a wave of rage.

“Shut up,” she snapped. “Don’t talk to me.” She turned away from him, bristling. Eun-hyeok sighed and settled with a rustle of clothes. He didn’t try to speak to her again.

Eun-yu wished Sangwook was there.

~ ~ ~

Sangwook stepped into the infirmary, Yeoung-su on his back, and narrowly dodged a wrench being thrown at his head.

“Woah,” he said, meeting eyes with Ji-su over the counter. “It’s just me. And the kid.”

“Oh my god, Yeoung-su,” Ji-su gasped, rushing over to help him off Sangwook’s back. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t hit you, did I?”

“No,” sniffled Yeoung-su. “I’m okay.”

Sangwook didn’t bother waiting for an apology he wasn’t going to get. “Where’s Jaehyun?”

“Here,” said a raspy voice. Jaehyun’s good arm appeared on top of the counter as he levered himself upright, pale and clammy. “Good to see you alive and well, Sangwook.”

“Could say the same to you,” Sangwook said.

“What’s going on out there?” Ji-su asked. “We heard gunshots. Where are the others, are they alright?”

Sangwook shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. I think we’re being robbed, there’s a gang of some kind holed up in the lobby. They rounded up everyone they could find, and they’ve been searching the rooms.”

“That would explain the creep with the gun that came in here earlier,” Ji-su mused.

Sangwook’s eyes widened. “One of them found you?”

“I took care of it,” Ji-su said, her eyes cold. She did not elaborate. Sangwook took note of the confused look on Jaehyun’s face and resolved not to press any further.

“If the others are in trouble, we need to help,” Jaehyun said, quick to redirect. He braced his arm on the counter and prepared to heave himself upright.

“No,” Ji-su said sternly, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Bad idea. Sit your ass back down before you pass out and give yourself a concussion.” Suitably cowed, Jaehyun settled back down. Ji-su turned back to Sangwook. “He does have a point, though. We can’t just leave them to fend for themselves.”

“Yi-kyung’s got it handled,” Sangwook said. “She has a plan. The best thing we can do right now is lay low and stay out of her way.”

~ ~ ~

Seon-yeoung’s body lay smoldering on the floor, clothes charred, the smell of burnt flesh hanging heavy in the air. Half of the residents couldn’t tear their eyes from the scene; the other half staunchly refused to look, green with nausea or barely holding back tears. Jin-ok had yet to uncover Su-yeoung’s eyes. 

“She’s really dead, isn’t she?” Seungwan muttered. It wasn’t a real question; he was one of the ones who looked.

The lone gangster on guard brandished his rifle. “Shut up, you idiot!”

A gunshot rang out and the gangster dropped like a rock, a bloody hole through his skull. Yelps and exclamations of confusion sounded from the residents. Yi-kyung dropped from the vents, landing in a well-executed crouch, and straightened, rifle in hand.

“Hurry,” she said. The survivors moved with mutters of cautious excitement, Yi-kyung keeping watch as they shuffled towards the exit. A scream sounded from the front; Yi-kyung whirled around to see the scar-faced gangster with his gun raised, shoulders taut and rage twisting his face.

“I knew this would happen!” he spat. He grabbed Jin-ok by the back of her coat and dragged her out of his way. She stumbled to her knees, the gangster’s fist remaining knotted in her coat.

“Drop your weapon,” Yi-kyung said, the barrel of her rifle trained on the gangster’s head.

“Want to make a bet on who can kill more people?” demanded the gangster, an edge of hysteria in his eyes. One of the residents tried to run; the gangster shot him in the back without preamble. The survivors screamed. “You’re going to lose! Now drop your fucking gun!”

Yi-kyung hesitated. The gangster shook Jin-ok roughly by his grip on her coat. “Drop it, you bitch!”

The barrel of Yi-kyung’s rifle dipped. With one last glance at Jin-ok, the gangster’s gun held far too close for comfort, Yi-kyung tossed her rifle aside. The moment it clattered to the floor, the gangster dropped Jin-ok and surged forward, striking Yi-kyung across the face with an open hand. She stumbled into the side of the stolen military van, arms up to guard her face; another hit sent her crumpling to the floor.

“This is just the beginning, you bitch!” the gangster spat. He drove his boot viciously into her stomach, once, twice, deaf to the residents’ horrified cries of protest. Yi-kyung switched her guard to protect her stomach and the gangster switched gears, bringing the butt of his rifle down on her face. The hits kept coming, each more vicious than the last, the residents’ cries growing loud and panicked.

Eun-hyeok rushed into the fray and struck the gangster across the jaw with a length of metal pipe. The hit connected with a resounding CRACK, sending the man stumbling back. Byeoung-il and Seungwan plowed into him, grabbing the barrel of the rifle to keep it pointed upward. Bullets peppered the ceiling as they drove him back. One caught the support cable of a massive crystal chandelier; it dropped with a shower of sparks and a cacophonous crash, dangling precariously from its torn power cable and the remaining supports. Eun-hyeok ducked and swore, shielding himself from the rain of broken glass.

Byeoung-il and Seungwan backed the gangster up against a wall, the three men grappling for the gun. A gunshot rang out and the gangster went slack, body sliding down against the wall in a smear of red. Byeoung-il flinched at the spray of blood and whirled around to find Yi-kyung sitting up, the barrel of her rifle smoking.

“Oh, c-come on now,” he protested in a quivering voice, scrubbing at the splatter of blood on his face. Seungwan clutched his chest like he was about to have a heart attack. Eun-hyeok shook the glass from his shoulders and made a visible effort to pull himself together. He offered a hand to Yi-kyung; she considered it for a moment, then clasped her arm with his, pulling herself to her feet.

“Everyone, gather up any weapons you can find,” Eun-hyeok said, looking around at the scattered survivors. “I think it’s about time we took this place back.”

Chapter Text

Hyun-su awoke to voices.

His body ached something fierce. His chest throbbed with the echo of being run through, but when he raised shaking fingers to the hole in his sweater, he found nothing but dried blood and smooth skin. Lifting his head took far more effort than it should; he squinted against the golden-red glare of the sun hanging low in the sky.

Wait, the sun?

His senses sharpened, coming back into focus all at once. The soft breeze tousling his hair, the gravel of the rooftop digging into his palms, the smell of blood and cigarette smoke hanging in the air. His gaze landed on the open door, the stairs leading down, and before he could really process the decision, he was staggering to his feet and limping towards it. He was distantly aware that the gangsters were watching him, that he wasn’t exactly being quiet; he didn’t care. His friends were down there, and they needed his help. He wouldn’t leave them, not again.

BANG!

Fire ripped through his chest. Hyun-su collapsed to his knees with a gasp, the terrible lingering burn stealing the breath from his lungs, spikes of pain leaping across his back and shoulder. A glance behind him revealed Jung-seop, smoking pistol in hand. He saw Hyun-su watching and grinned lazily. Something dark and monstrous boiled under his skin.

Oh, that was it.

Hyun-su fumbled for the door and heaved it shut with a harsh bang. He drew himself to his feet, turning to face the gangsters, blood dripping from his fingers and cold determination lining his face.

“None of you,” he snarled, eyes black, “are getting back down those stairs alive.”

A couple of the gangsters shuffled nervously. Jung-seop smiled a cheshire grin.

“I see. You think you’re pretty tough, huh? But you don’t get the picture here.” He advanced, his eyes wild and alight, smile never faltering, turning sharp, hungry. “I’ll kill you slowly, as many times as you like.” He raised his pistol; Hyun-su’s monster bared its teeth in a vicious grin, stepped forward—

There was a gruesome, wet crunch, and Jung-seop froze, mouth hanging open, eyes wide and bulging. Blood dribbled from his lips. The monster stopped in its tracks, wide eyes trailing down to the dark spike of… something plunging through his throat. Jung-seop’s feet lifted off the ground, and that’s when Hyun-su finally saw the gangster standing in front of him, lifting him into the air with what must have been his hand buried in his neck.

He couldn’t explain it. He didn’t know how he could have missed the man when he was standing right there between them, clear as day. It was like his eyes just slid over him, like he was part of the scenery, until suddenly he wasn’t anymore, and everything came into focus so sharply that neither Hyun-su nor the monster knew how to react. It sent a nervous energy crawling up Hyun-su’s spine, unsure if he could trust his own mind.

The man’s arm didn’t so much as quiver as he walked to the edge of the roof and let Jung-seop’s feet dangle over empty air. Terror was written into every line of Jung-seop’s face. The man studied him with wolf-like curiosity, cocking his head. His face was placid, unbothered, marred only by the blood splattered on his face. His eyes were so cold and expressionless, they almost seemed dead. 

“Ui-myeoung—” stammered the gangster with the bucket hat. The man—Ui-myeoung—paid him no heed.

“You went too far this time, Jung-seop,” he said with an airiness entirely unfitting to the situation. Then he ripped his hand free in a spray of gore, and Jung-seop dropped like a rock. There was a long, unnerving silence, followed by a distant crash of denting metal. Ui-myeoung stared down at the crumpled body below, and the smallest hint of a smile quirked his lips.

Gunfire cracked. Blood sprayed from Ui-myeoung’s neck, and he slumped over against the concrete wall. His head snapped back up and the bullet slingshotted out of his flesh, burying itself into the head of the gangster that fired it. Bucket Hat gasped and swore; Ui-myeoung appeared at his side, inches from his face, and he went stiff. His wide eyes remained fixed on the rooftop as Ui-myeoung regarded him with that same wolf-like look.

“You want that too?” he asked pleasantly. Bucket Hat’s eyes flicked to his comrade’s fallen body, and he trembled.

“N-no,” he said, voice wavering. “No, I don’t want that. Please.” Ui-myeoung studied him a moment longer, then turned away. Bucket Hat breathed a shuddering sigh of relief. “Thank you. Thank you.”

Hyun-su’s monster glared at Ui-myeoung as he approached.

“That was my kill,” it growled.

Ui-myeoung grinned. “I like that look on your face.” He held out his hand, still dripping with Jung-seop’s blood. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The whirr of helicopter blades sounded from far above, and a rain of red flyers fluttered down around them. Ui-myeoung plucked one from the air, gave it a cursory look, and glanced back up to meet Hyun-su’s eyes—brown this time. His gaze flicked to the bloody holes in Hyun-su’s sweater, something mournful crossing his face.

“It must hurt,” he said. He reached out, his fingers just barely brushing the fabric. “I remember how it feels. It never gets easier, does it?”

“Why did you kill him?” asked Hyun-su.

Ui-myeoung clicked his tongue. “Well, I thought you’d be grateful.”

“You were on the same side.”

Ui-myeoung laughed, sharp and mirthful.

“How can a wolf and a rabbit be on the same side?” he said, grinning. He gestured to the edge of the rooftop. “The rabbit was pretending to be a wolf, so I played along. But there’s no need for that now.” He shrugged, his smile settling into something calmer. “It’s not a crime for a wolf to kill a rabbit. That’s just its nature.”

“There are monsters that don’t harm humans,” Hyun-su insisted.

Ui-myeoung looked at him with something that might have been pity. “Maybe. But are there humans that won’t hurt monsters?” He held up the flyer, the words SPECIAL INFECTEE REPORT GUIDE glaring out at him in bold text. “Do you think the people you’re trying so hard to protect will welcome you after reading this?”

Hesitantly, Hyun-su took the paper and skimmed over it, barely processing the words. ‘Guaranteed safety of anyone who reports a special infectee’ and ‘transferred to a safe camp’ were all he managed to glean before his eyes squeezed shut, stomach rolling with dread.

Ui-myeoung turned to the stairs, a trace of a smile quirking his lips. 

“Let’s find out.”

~ ~ ~

The elevator doors opened, putting Hyun-su face-to-face with the residents who brandished all manner of weapons. Eun-yu let out a sigh of relief and lowered her taser the moment she saw him. Sangwook’s rifle dipped, the lines of tension around his eyes softening, and the relief that swept through Hyun-su threatened to take his breath away. Then Sangwook’s gaze fell upon Ui-myeoung, and his guard went back up, face hardening. Tension hung thick and heavy in the air. 

“Hyun-su,” said Yi-kyung, her rifle leveled at his chest. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Do I win?” commented Ui-myeoung from the back of the elevator, his hood drawn up. Eun-hyeok, one of the few unarmed survivors, glanced between Ui-myeoung and Hyun-su; Hyun-su could practically see the gears turning in his head.

“Hyun-su is alright,” he said finally. The knot of tension in Hyun-su’s chest loosened the tiniest bit.

“Oh, is he?” Ui-myeoung said, stepping up to Hyun-su’s shoulder. Yi-kyung trained her rifle on him, and he slowly pushed the muzzle down, never breaking eye contact. “Seems to me like he’s taken a few too many bullets for you all.”

Damn right, the monster grumbled. Sangwook stepped closer, gun raised, and the hair along Hyun-su’s spine rose.

“Don’t move,” Sangwook said, flinty eyes fixed on Ui-myeoung.

Ui-myeoung regarded him with a hint of amusement in his smile. “You know, those things can’t kill me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sangwook replied. “I’ll find a way to kill you when I need to.”

Hyun-su bristled. It was like looking through a window into his own past, the words echoing back to him: If they’ll kill a monster that didn’t even attack first, what do you think they’ll do to you?

“Hyun-su,” Eun-yu said, almost too soft for him to hear. He glanced over to find her staring at him with concern, brow furrowed. “You okay?”

“Come here quickly,” said Mr. An, beckoning with a hand. “Come here.”

Hyun-su had the sudden impression of being called like a dog that had wandered into the street. His face hardened, and he stepped between Sangwook and Ui-myeoung.

“Put that away,” he said firmly. “He saved my life.”

“He’s one of them,” Sangwook said, unmoving. “Get out of the way, kid.”

“No,” said Hyun-su. Sangwook’s face twitched like some emotion was trying to break through, but his gun remained raised, the barrel brushing Hyun-su’s sweater. Betrayal tugged painfully in Hyun-su’s chest before the monster’s rage boiled up over it, eyes going black and lips curling back over his teeth.

“Back off,” the monster snarled. “I won’t let you kill him. He’s like me.”

“No one’s like you,” Sangwook said.

“He is!” the monster snapped. “He saved my life! Why is that not enough for you?!” Sangwook flinched. The monster whipped around to face the others, teeth bared. “He’s on our side, so put your damn guns down, before I make you!”

Yi-kyung made to raise her gun again; this time, it was Eun-hyeok who stopped her. The monster’s snarl faded a bit as it locked eyes with him.

“This is Hyun-su,” Eun-hyeok said, addressing the survivors. “I trust his judgement.” He stepped forward and offered his hand to Ui-myeoung, mutters of disbelief sounding from the crowd. “My name is Lee Eun-hyeok. It’s nice to meet you.”

Eun-yu stared at his back incredulously. Even the monster was confused, unease crawling up its spine.

He’s taking our side, Hyun-su said. Just go with it.

Ui-myeoung smiled and took Eun-hyeok’s hand. “Ui-myeoung. Pleasure to meet you.”

Slowly, exchanging nervous glances and hushed conversation, the survivors put away their weapons. Sangwook lowered his gun with a conflicted expression, made a half-step towards Hyun-su, then shook his head and turned off down the hallway.

“Hyun-su,” said Eun-yu, glancing between him and Ui-myeoung. “Can we talk?”

Hyun-su turned to Ui-myeoung, who smiled and waved him forward. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just be getting myself acquainted.”

Hyun-su nodded and followed Eun-yu down the hall.

The moment they were out of earshot, Eun-yu whirled around with fire in her eyes.

“Seriously, Hyun-su?!” she hissed. “This guy?! He’s one of them!”

“Not anymore,” Hyun-su said defensively.

“ Not anymore?! ” Eun-yu fumed. “What the hell does that matter?! They killed Ji-eun!”

Hyun-su winced. “That wasn’t his fault. I just think we should give him the benefit of the doubt. He saved my life up on the roof.”

“Yeah, by killing his own men. That doesn’t concern you at all?”

“That—” Hyun-su paused, frowning. “How do you know about that?”

Eun-yu crossed her arms. “Nam-il told us.”

“Who’s Nam-il?”

“The gangster with the gold tooth and the stupid hat. You know, the one your new friend didn’t kill.”

“Okay, come on,” Hyun-su sighed. “He only killed the ones who were going to kill us. He’s not going to hurt anyone here.”

“You don’t know that!” Eun-yu snapped. “Why would you even take that chance? I just don’t understand why you’re so willing to trust him, he—”

“Eun-yu,” said Hyun-su, almost pleading. Eun-yu fell silent at the vulnerability in his voice, staring at him with wide eyes. “This whole time, I thought I was alone. Now I’ve finally found someone like me, and you want me to throw that away? I just—” he looked away, stress lining his face. “Can’t I have this? After everything we’ve been through, can’t I have this one good thing?”

Fragments of a thousand emotions flashed through Eun-yu’s eyes. Then her face shuttered and her shoulders lowered. She looked so tired all of a sudden, more than Hyun-su had ever seen her.

“You may have been the only one of your kind, Hyun-su,” she said, voice subdued, “but you were never alone.”

Then she left him there in the hall, and Hyun-su couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just let something irreplaceable slip through his fingers.

Chapter Text

“I fucked up,” Sangwook groaned, his face buried in his hands.

“Yep,” said Ji-su. She sat with her back against Jaehyun’s cot, his arm hanging over the side and his hand clasped between hers. “I’d say pointing a gun at someone is a pretty good way to end a friendship.”

“It’s not that simple,” Jaehyun insisted. “You had every reason to think Ui-myeoung was a threat.” He winced as Yu-ri tightened the bandages around his stump, and Ji-su squeezed his hand.

“That’s not where he fucked up,” Yu-ri said, her voice flat. “He fucked up when he kept that gun raised after Hyun-su stepped in front of it.”

“I’m such an idiot,” Sangwook groaned. “I basically just told him I’d be okay with shooting him.”

“Would you?” Ji-su asked.

Sangwook gave her an affronted look. “Fuck no. I’d rather shoot myself.”

“You need to tell him that,” Jaehyun said. “Talk to him, clear the air.”

Sangwook shook his head. “He won’t listen to me. I’ve fucked up too many times.”

“So that’s it, then?” Yu-ri asked, crossing her arms. “You just going to give up, let it all fall apart?”

Sangwook glared at her. “No.”

“Then you’d better figure out some way to talk to him, or you’re going to lose that kid for good.”

.

.

.

“Hyun-su’s being a fucking idiot,” Eun-yu said as Sangwook crested the stairs to the fire escape. His steps stuttered, then resumed; the sun had long since set, the darkness rendering her all but invisible where she sat against the wall of the building. She twirled an unlit cigarette between her fingers.

Sangwook sat down on the grate next to her with a grunt. She didn’t even make a jab about how old he was; he tried to ignore how uncomfortable that made him. He pulled out a cigarette of his own, lit it up, and offered her his lighter. There was a moment’s hesitation before she snatched it from his hand.

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re being an idiot too,” she said. The flicker of flame allowed him a glimpse of her face, brow furrowed like she was trying to solve a particularly challenging puzzle. “But Hyun-su’s throwing it all in with that sketchy-ass gangster, so he wins the ‘biggest idiot’ award for now.”

“You don’t trust Ui-myeoung either,” Sangwook said.

Eun-yu shot him an exasperated look. “No one trusts him. Hyun-su’s just so desperate to have someone like him around that he can’t see the guy is bad news.” She took a long drag from her cigarette, the lit end a tiny glowing ember in the night. “It’s fucking pathetic.”

“I mean, can we blame him?” Sangwook sighed. “We do what we can, but we’re human. It’s like he said before, we don’t understand what it’s like for him. Maybe he deserves to have someone who does.”

“What a stupid fucking idea,” Eun-yu spat. “We don’t understand him, so the next best option is some psycho gangster with a kill streak?” She took another drag, exhaled a sharp plume of smoke. “I talked to him back then, after he yelled at us for standing up for him. He said that it matters to him that we try, even if we don’t really get it. We didn’t do everything right, but what we did do, it meant something to him.” Her voice began to wobble. “We were important to him. Now Ui-myeoung comes along, and suddenly we’re not anymore?”

“Hey.” Sangwook put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her to his side. She dropped her head onto his shoulder with a shaky breath; it took him by surprise, stumbling over his next words. “I’m sure it’s not like that.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Eun-yu said in a watery voice.

Sangwook huffed out something that might have been a laugh. “Okay, you’re right. I don’t know shit. But these things have a way of working themselves out. It just takes time.”

“What if we don’t have that kind of time?” Eun-yu asked. There was a wet spot growing on Sangwook’s sleeve. “What if he does something really stupid, and we can’t stop him? I’m so scared we’re going to lose him.”

Sangwook sighed and held her a little closer. “Me too, kid.”

~ ~ ~

“I see the way you’ve lived,” said Ui-myeoung, sitting beside Hyun-su on the bench. “Someone as special as you, being treated like a guard dog? It’s a disgrace.”

“It helped a lot of people survive,” Hyun-su said, a little defensive.

Ui-myeoung tutted. “That doesn’t make it right, does it?” Hyun-su frowned to himself. “When I leave this place, I’m going to find more people like us. You should come with me.” Ui-myeoung leaned towards him, eyes alight as if sharing a secret. “When the hunt is over, the hound dies. It should live as a wolf instead.”

Hyun-su was silent, lost in the maelstrom of his thoughts. The monster pushed to the front instead.

“You sure like that wolf metaphor,” it said, voice as dry as the desert.

Ui-myeoung cocked his head, a smile spreading across his face. “You’re so interesting, Hyun-su. It’s like I never know what you’re really thinking. What goes on in that head of yours?”

The monster rolled its eyes. “Mostly we just argue.”

Ui-myeoung’s smile faltered. “’We?’”

“Hyun-su,” said a small voice. The monster glanced up to find Yeoung-su standing in the doorway, his dinosaur clutched in his hands. He gave Ui-myeoung a nervous look.

“Is this your friend?” Ui-myeoung smiled gently. “Come on in. It’s okay.”

Hesitantly, Yeoung-su stepped into the room.

“Have you seen Mr. Han?” he asked.

“…No,” said the monster. Its voice was a little flat, but not in a malicious way. “Are you looking for him?”

Yeoung-su nodded. “My dino broke. He said he could fix it.” He held up the dinosaur and its detached leg. “Can you fix it?”

After a moment’s consideration, the monster grunted and gestured for Yeoung-su to hand it over. Yeoung-su placed his dinosaur carefully in its hands. The leg was a simple ball-and-socket piece; the monster popped it back in without much difficulty.

“There,” it said, returning the toy. “If the leg keeps falling off, it might mean the joint is getting loose. Ask Mr. Han to fix it when you find him.”

Yeoung-su nodded and gave a quick bow before scampering off.

That was nice of you, Hyun-su said.

Don’t push it, the monster replied curtly, receding to the back of his mind once again.

“Do you think we can be fixed?” asked Ui-myeoung, staring down the hall after Yeoung-su. Hyun-su blinked, speechless. “I used to think so, because I thought it was a disease. So I volunteered to let them cut it out of me.” Ui-myeoung leaned back on his hands with a chuckle. “Like it was nothing more than a tumor. They tried everything: freezing, thawing, sawing, piercing, scorching. You know what happened in the end?” He threw up his hands, a wild grin spreading across his face. “It just never comes out! Because the monster isn’t in me, it is me! That’s when I realized, this isn’t a disease, it’s an evolution! And I was a chosen one!” Laughter underlined his words, eyes wide and black. Hyun-su shifted, an edge of unease in his posture, and Ui-myeoung noticed, his expression sobering. “Humans are a failed species. They weren’t selected by nature; we were.” The black faded from his eyes, and he bumped Hyun-su’s shoulder with his, a sympathetic twist in his mouth. “It’s better if you just accept it. Us and humans can’t coexist anyways.”

Hyun-su had just opened his mouth to argue when the shriek of a whistle cut through the air. He whipped around towards the doorway, shared an alarmed glance with Ui-myeoung, and bolted out into the hall. Adrenaline crackled like lightning through his blood, his footsteps quick as a deer and carelessly loud on the tile. The sound of the whistle grew clearer; the hair along his spine rose.

Yeoung-su was screaming and crying, his sister holding him back. Byeoung-il struggled to light their improvised flamethrower, the wheels of the gas canister slipping on the tile, Seungwan and Hye-in shouting at him to hurry. The green slime monster leaned out of the vent; its featureless face turned towards Hyun-su, and it waved one dripping hand. The gesture was so childlike, so human, it made Hyun-su’s heart ache. For a moment, he was struck by the urge to wave back.

“Don’t!” cried Yeoung-su, breaking him out of his trance. “It’s my friend!”

“Hurry up!” snapped Hye-in. Byeoung-il swore and struggled with the nozzle of the flamethrower. Dread pooled in Hyun-su’s stomach.

“Stop it! What are you doing?” he demanded, wide-eyed and frantic. “It hasn’t hurt anyone, it won’t attack us!”

Byeoung-il stammered. “Well, yes, but—”

“You don’t know how it’ll change!” Hye-in shouted. “Kill it, before it’s too late!”

“No!” wailed Yeoung-su, tears streaming down his face. “Stop! Don’t do it!”

“Shoot it!” shrieked Su-yeoung. “It’s a monster!”

The gas finally ignited. Flames poured into the vent, and the slime monster shrieked. It tried to retreat to no avail; Byeoung-il pushed forward with the flamethrower, his face twisted in a grimace of disgust and rage. The monster wailed, its cries blending with Yeoung-su’s, fire eating away at its essence even as it thrashed and sloshed against the walls of the vent. A smell like burning oil filled the air, the monster’s struggles and cries growing weaker until they died out altogether. A trickle of blackened ooze dripped from the corner of the vent.

Yeoung-su collapsed to the floor, sobbing so hard he could barely breathe. Hyun-su could barely hear him over the ringing in his ears, the overwhelming sense of danger crawling up his spine, something great and terrible roiling in the pit of his stomach.

We have to get out of this place, his monster said. He’d never heard such fear in its voice.

“I guess you were right,” Hyun-su said, turning to Ui-myeoung. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, the words threatening to choke him. “There’s no place for us here.”

“It can’t be helped,” Ui-myeoung said with a mournful expression. “No matter how much you do for them, they will always be afraid of you.” His gaze fell to Yeoung-su, sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest and tears streaming down his face as his sister tried to comfort him. Ui-myeoung crouched down to his level and reached out; Eun-yu appeared as if from nowhere and slapped his hand away, placing herself between him and the kids.

“Come on, get up,” she said, pulling the kids to their feet and wrapping her arms around their shoulders. She paused and glanced back at Hyun-su, something guarded in her eyes. “Hey. Even an outcast should be picky about new friends.”

She stalked off down the hall, the kids in tow, and Hyun-su’s heart plummeted into his shoes.

“You seem to have a lot of friends,” Ui-myeoung said, straightening.

Hyun-su couldn’t stop thinking about the look in Eun-yu’s eyes. It reminded him of Jin-ok, how she’d watch him with sharp eyes like he was a fox circling the chicken coop, waiting for the chance to strike. Like he was just another monster.

“I’m not sure I have any at all,” he said.

Chapter Text

“What does that creep think he’s doing with Hyun-su?” Eun-yu muttered, following Eun-hyeok into the office.

Eun-hyeok hummed. “I’m not sure. But he’s being cooperative for now, so there’s no use provoking him.”

Eun-yu clicked her tongue, glancing back into the hall. “He’s obviously a psycho.”

Eun-hyeok sat down on the edge of the desk and pulled a folded piece of red paper from his pocket. “What do you think about this?”

Eun-yu accepted the paper with a suspicious look, her face darkening as she unfolded it and read the heading: SPECIAL INFECTEE REPORT GUIDE.

“What?” she snapped. “You want to sell out Hyun-su so the rest of us can survive? Have you lost your mind?”

“I never said that,” Eun-hyeok said. “It’s tempting, though, right? It’s a good deal.”

Eun-yu scoffed. “So what? Don’t tell me you actually believe this shit. Just be your normal paranoid self, won’t you?”

“Exactly,” Eun-hyeok said.

Eun-yu blinked. “Huh?”

Eun-hyeok took the paper back, smoothing out the wrinkles. “’Safety camp’ sounds ridiculous. There’s no way of knowing who will turn into a monster and when, so how can they guarantee safety?” He met her gaze, something stern and oddly sad lingering behind his eyes. “When someone is so sure about a promise that’s nearly impossible to keep, there’s a good chance it’ll end up being a lie.”

Eun-yu was silent for a long moment, brow furrowed and lips pursed.

“So what now?” she said finally. “What do you want to do?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Eun-hyeok said, standing and tucking the paper back into his pocket. “But I think I should talk to Hyun-su.”

.

.

.

“No,” said Hyun-su, powerwalking down the hall.

Eun-hyeok struggled to keep pace. “I just want to talk.”

“Well too fucking bad,” Hyun-su snapped, pace unwavering. “I’m not your dog anymore. Find someone else to pick up your shit.”

“That’s not what I’m here for,” Eun-hyeok insisted. “Just listen for a moment, I—”

“What?” Hyun-su demanded, whirling around. His eyes were black and narrowed, burning with inhuman rage. “You want to explain why your people killed a monster that didn’t so much as raise a finger against them? You want to tell me why that was at all necessary? Go ahead, I’m waiting.”

Eun-hyeok’s lips thinned. He didn’t answer.

The monster scoffed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’ve seen all I need to see; don’t bother trying to convince me otherwise.” Hyun-su stalked off down the hall, and Eun-hyeok stared after him in defeat.

“He’s right, you know,” said Ui-myeoung. Eun-hyeok startled; the man had a way of melting into the shadows, invisible until he spoke. “It was exceptionally cruel. The poor creature did nothing wrong.” He glanced down the hall after Hyun-su and sighed. “Almost makes you wonder who the real monsters are, doesn’t it?”

Eun-hyeok had the sudden impression that any answer he gave would be wrong.

“I wasn’t there,” he said carefully. “I don’t know enough about the situation to pass judgement.”

Ui-myeoung looked him up and down, a hint of a smile quirking his lips. “You’re smart. I see why you’re the leader.”

Eun-hyeok tried to ignore how much the whole thing reminded him of Jung-seop. “Are you planning to stay here?”

“Not for long,” Ui-myeoung said airily. “Just until the next big thing happens.” He turned to face Eun-hyeok as he passed, stepping backwards into the hall with a grin. “And who knows what that’ll be?”

Something in his eyes had Eun-hyeok certain it’d be nothing good, as he turned and followed Hyun-su’s footsteps down the hall.

“Eun-hyeok,” came Yi-kyung’s voice. He turned to find her at the intersection of the two hallways, the line of her shoulders taut. “Let’s talk.”

.

.

.

Eun-hyeok stared down at the tracker in his hand, the wide square button practically begging to be pressed. Part of him wanted to do it; the other part wanted to crush the damn thing under his heel. He ignored both, making a conscious effort to keep his hand from tensing around the device.

“The soldiers will come when you press this?” he asked. Yi-kyung nodded; he sighed. “This isn’t fair. I’ve told you everything I know, and you’ve been keeping things from me.”

“I didn’t trust you,” Yi-kyung said, curtly and without apology.

“And you do now?”

She shrugged, looking impossibly tired. “More than Ui-myeoung and the military.”

Eun-hyeok gave a dry chuckle. “Should I be happy?”

Yi-kyung gestured to the tracker. “What’s your opinion?”

Eun-hyeok stared down at it for a long moment, running a hand through his hair.

“We don’t have many options, and all of them seem to be bad," he said. "I think this should stay as a last resort.” He opened a drawer, slid the tracker carefully to the back, and closed it. “Thank you for telling me about this. If I could ask a favor, please keep an eye out for Du-sik; no one has been able to find him lately.”

Yi-kyung nodded distractedly, her arms crossed and brow furrowed. Neither of them noticed Jae-hwan peeking in from the hall, his nervous gaze fixed on the drawer.

.

.

.

Sitting on the apartment floor with his legs splayed out in front of him, Du-sik drained the last of his beer and let out a long breath. He tossed the empty can towards the wastepaper basket under the desk. It bounced back out, the basket already full to the brim with cans. He couldn’t remember how many he’d drank. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and a dusting of dried blood rubbed off onto his skin. It was crusted all down the bottom of his face, the scent of copper overwhelming everything.

He spared a glance towards the bathroom door, cracked open just slightly, a rich red-orange glow peeking through the sliver of space. A deep rhythmic sound like a heartbeat pulsed from inside. There was a can of beer placed in the corner of the doorway.

“I told you, I wasn’t sure if I could protect the kids without you,” Du-sik said, voice rough from disuse. The creature in the bathroom didn’t respond, the heartbeat thrumming on. “But… I wanted to. I really wanted to.”

He looked down at his hands folded in his lap, managing a ghost of a smile. “Su-yeoung and Yeoung-su are doing alright. As well as they can be, I suppose; this is no life for a child. Jin-ok takes good care of them, but I still worry.” He drew in a deep breath, leaning his head back against the wall. “I worry about Hyun-su, especially. He’s gone through far too much for a boy his age.” The memories flashed back to him, the week Hyun-su had spent limping around the first floor, bandages peeking through the tears in his clothes. “I can’t imagine what it was like for him. Even now, I don’t have a clue what goes on in that head of his. But I don’t think he realizes just how human he still is.”

Du-sik thought of the timid, soft-spoken boy who had first braved the halls to show up at his door, with nothing but his makeshift broomstick-knife-duct-tape spear as defense. How Hyun-su had had nothing to live for, and yet he’d risked his life to save a couple of kids he didn’t even know. He thought of the young man Hyun-su had blossomed into, how he talked more, smiled more, spoke his mind without flinching, and yet at his core he was still that same boy, with a heart of gold and more kindness than he knew what to do with. There was no doubt in his mind that Hyun-su was the most human of them all.

Du-sik smiled, a tear rolling down his cheek. “He’s a good kid. I hope Sangwook looks after him when I’m gone.”

He fumbled around the floor next to him for another beer. All he succeeded in doing was to knock over an empty can, which clattered hollowly against the wooden floor. Some terrible, sickly feeling began to rise in his chest. He realized his hands were shaking.

“I’m scared,” he said with a breathy chuckle. “What if I turn into something hideous? What if I hurt someone? That scares me more than the dying, I think.”

Again, the creature in the bathroom didn’t respond. But as that sickly feeling spread like poison through his veins, a monstrous growl clawing its way from his throat, he could have sworn that the heartbeat thumped a little faster.

~ ~ ~

“I don’t know if I can even blame him anymore,” Eun-yu muttered, scuffing her shoe against the bloodstained tile. “That weird green thing didn’t even hurt anybody, but they still burned it alive. It’s a miracle he hasn’t run screaming already.”

Queenie churred from her seat next to her under the stairs. Eun-yu glanced up at her, and gentle yellow eyes met hers.

“It’s a little depressing, isn’t it?” she sighed. “I’m sitting here telling you all my problems when you probably can’t even understand me. Am I really running that low on friends?”

Queenie huffed out a breath that ruffled her hair. If Eun-yu didn’t know better, she’d say the monster sounded a little offended.

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry. It’s not like I really want to talk to humans right now, anyways.”

A low sound hummed from Queenie’s chest. Then the monster perked up, moving out from under the stairs to peer into the darkness of the stairwell.

“What is it?” Eun-yu asked. “Is something coming?”

Queenie didn’t respond, eyes fixed on the stairs leading down. It took a long moment for the sound of footsteps to reach Eun-yu’s ears, even and confident. There was a flicker of movement in the darkness, and nervousness leapt up Eun-yu’s spine. Then the figure melted out of the shadows, and dread crept through her veins for a whole new reason.

It was Ui-myeoung.

For a moment, Eun-yu dared to hope he was just out for a wander, that he’d take the stairs up to the next floor without noticing them. But Ui-myeoung moved with purpose, like a man with a destination in mind, stepping out from the stairwell and coming face-to-face with them, a relaxed smile on his lips.

Queenie bristled and growled the moment he entered her line of sight, the spines on her back rattling as she moved to shield Eun-yu with her body. Eun-yu peeked around her to see Ui-myeoung staring up at Queenie with a thrilled grin, wide eyes turning his expression a bit wild.

“Well, aren’t you beautiful,” he murmured. Queenie snarled and snapped her teeth, tail lashing.

“What are you doing here?” Eun-yu asked, making no effort to dull the sharpness of her voice. She hoped it would cover up the tremor that threatened to break free, unable to shake the feeling of wrong and danger crawling up her spine.

Ui-myeoung smiled apologetically. “I followed you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I do,” Eun-yu snapped. She tilted her head towards Queenie. “You should probably back up. She’s been known to kill monsters.”

Ui-myeoung chuckled. “She won’t attack me. She knows better.”

Baffled, Eun-yu spared a glance at Queenie. The monster twitched with the urge to lunge, a low growl rattling in her chest, but something was holding her back. Eun-yu could have sworn she saw a trace of fear in those hunter’s eyes.

“What do you want?” Eun-yu demanded.

“Just to talk,” Ui-myeoung said pleasantly. “Hyun-su is planning to leave with me when the time comes. I’d like to ask you not to interfere.”

“Fat fucking chance,” Eun-yu spat. “Why the hell would I do anything for you?”

“It’s not about me,” Ui-myeoung said. “It’s about Hyun-su. We both know you care for him, but you’ll never truly understand him. He belongs with his own kind.”

“His own kind?” Eun-yu scoffed. “He’s nothing like you. He’s not a murderer.”

Ui-myeoung’s eyes flicked to Queenie. “You don’t seem to have much of a problem with killers.” He took a step forward and Queenie roared, nearly deafening Eun-yu. Ui-myeoung paused, considered them for a long moment, then smiled and turned away. “You’re a smart girl, Eun-yu. It’s kept you alive this long. I’m sure you’ll make the right choice.”

He disappeared down the stairs, leaving Queenie bristling and Eun-yu trying to quash the dread rising up in her stomach.

~ ~ ~

“What are you doing?” Yu-ri asked flatly, leaning against one of the pillars in the basement.

Mr. An huffed and tossed aside another shovelful of dirt. “Digging.”

“Well, I can see that,” Yu-ri said. “How do you even know you’ve got the right place? You’ll end up digging a tunnel while looking for one.”

“Ha!” barked Mr. An. “Wouldn’t that be something.” He wiped the sweat from his brow, a faint wheeze in his breath. Yu-ri frowned.

“I just don’t want you to overwork yourself,” she said.

“What, this?” Mr. An panted. “This is nothing for me.” He stomped the shovel into the dirt, prying loose another chunk.

Yu-ri’s expression softened, something close to grief breaking through. “You know, you’re really sick. If you keep pushing yourself like this, you’ll—”

“What? I’ll die?” Mr. An chuckled. “Yeah, that’d be alright. You could just cover me with dirt!”

Yu-ri had just enough time for her heart to lurch painfully in her chest before the clang of metal striking metal rang through the room. Mr. An’s eyes widened; he jabbed the shovel into the dirt again, the sound ringing out a second time.

“Holy shit,” Yu-ri breathed. “Is that what I think it is?”

Mr. An kneeled and brushed the dirt away, revealing a patch of text embossed into the surface of a tarnished iron trapdoor. He grinned. “Knew I’d find you eventually.”

Chapter Text

Something was wrong.

Something was wrong, but Hyun-su didn’t know what, and it was itching at him. It had been itching at him for the past few hours, as he paced the halls and ran through his mental checklist of ‘things that could go wrong.’

“There are no new monsters,” he muttered to himself. “All the old ones are where they should be, I checked. None of the outer doors or gates have been broken into. No one’s screaming. No one’s dying. Right?”

I think we’d know by now, said the monster. Maybe you’re thinking too large.

Hyun-su nodded distractedly. The itch, the nameless urge to do something crawling up his spine, it felt more… focused, for lack of a better word. So maybe not a full-blown crisis, not a community problem. An individual one?

“Jaehyun’s stable. Ji-su’s with him. Eun-yu’s mad at me, but she’s fine. Sangwook can take care of himself. Du-sik is—where is Du-sik? I feel like I haven’t seen him in ages.”

Yeoung-su was looking for him earlier, the monster commented. That could be it. Doesn’t feel like worry, though. More like… danger? Defensiveness? I don’t know how to describe it.

It was something like that, Hyun-su thought. Not the full electric burst of fight-or-flight, but the buzz under his skin that came before it. Not defensiveness like a wolf protecting its den, but a hair-raising sort of apprehension, a threat looming on the horizon, the unnerving stillness that came before the storm.

The echo of raised voices from down the hall broke into his thoughts.

Or maybe it’s that, said the monster. Hyun-su’s feet were moving before it even finished its sentence.

The shouting had drawn the other survivors’ attention as well. They hung around the edges of the lobby in small clusters, exchanging anxious glances and hushed conversation as if afraid to draw attention to themselves. Jaehyun was propped against a pillar, Ji-su supporting his uninjured side. Yi-kyung leaned against the far wall with an expression like stone. Eun-yu hovered at Sangwook’s shoulder, her frown and crossed arms mirroring his. Ui-myeoung emerged from the shadows next to Hyun-su, a look of faint amusement on his face.

In the very center of the room stood Jae-hwan and Yu-ri, caught up in an increasingly fiery argument. Eun-hyeok stood between them with his hands outstretched placatingly. Mr. An hovered at Yu-ri’s shoulder, a hand resting on her arm.

“We have less than 3 days of food left,” Yu-ri said. She gave off an air of forced composure, the set of her shoulders firm without being defensive, but an undercurrent of frustration sharpened her voice. “We’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for weeks, and now that it’s here, you want to throw it away?”

“It’s not safe!” Jae-hwan insisted. “There could be monsters down there!”

“The tunnel has been sealed since the war,” Mr. An said. Compared to Jae-hwan’s shrill protests, his voice seemed almost subdued in its calmness. “It’s very unlikely anything could have gotten in.”

Jae-hwan spluttered. “W-well, what if there are other entrances? Who knows what could be down there!”

“It’s a safe way out of this place, and you’re saying no?” Yu-ri snapped.

“Both of you, calm down, please,” Eun-hyeok said. Yu-ri shot him a dirty look; his responding glance held a silent apology and an appeal for her patience. “Obviously, finding this tunnel is a great opportunity, but Jae-hwan raises some legitimate concerns. We need to have a constructive discussion about this before we can make any plans to leave.”

“Leave?” Jae-hwan squawked. “No, we can’t leave!”

“Why not?” Yu-ri demanded.

“Because—because—” Jae-hwan floundered. “We just can’t, okay?”

“This has always been temporary, Jae-hwan,” Eun-hyeok said with a frown. “The complex has kept us relatively safe so far, but we can’t last forever on its supplies. Leaving is unavoidable.”

“If you want to stay here and starve, be my guest,” Yu-ri said bitterly. “But don’t you dare try to tell the rest of us what to do.”

“You don’t understand!” snapped Jae-hwan. “We have to stay here, otherwise how are they going to find—” he cut himself off, paling.

The lobby fell into tense silence. Hyun-su watched from across the room as realization sparked in Yi-kyung’s eyes.

“Jae-hwan,” she said, voice colder and drier than tundra. “What did you do?”

Jae-hwan glanced between her and Eun-hyeok, guilt written into every line of his face.

“Oh,” said Ui-myeoung. “I see what’s happening here.” Before Hyun-su could ask what he meant, he advanced towards the group, strides long and purposeful. Jae-hwan stumbled back, but Ui-myeoung was faster, thrusting a hand into his hoodie pocket and pulling out something red and blinking. He waved the tracker at Yi-kyung. “Missing something?”

“You didn’t,” Eun-hyeok breathed. “Jae-hwan, tell me you didn’t.”

“You called the military here?” Yi-kyung demanded. The room dissolved into anxious murmurs. Accusatory looks fell upon Jae-hwan, who scrambled to defend himself, his shoulders high.

“You all saw the flyer!” he cried. “Guaranteed safety for anyone who reports a special infectee! I’m just trying to survive, any of you would have done the same!”

“No,” Mr. An said, “we wouldn’t.” His voice was heavy with disappointment.

A loud crunch of plastic turned every head in the room. The broken pieces of the tracker fell from Ui-myeoung’s hand and clattered to the floor. His face was as still and calm as a lake.

“Well, it hardly matters anymore,” he said. “Because now, none of you can leave.”

Hyun-su’s stomach dropped into his shoes.

All at once, the air in the room went thick with tension. Yi-kyung’s eyes narrowed. Eun-hyeok shifted, his stance turning guarded. Sangwook and Eun-yu exchanged alarmed glances, first with each other, then with Hyun-su. He had nothing to offer them, as perturbed as the rest. Yu-ri stared at Ui-myeoung, a crease forming in her brow. She looked ready to argue, as if his threatening aura meant nothing to her; Mr. An gripped her arm nervously.

Hyun-su stepped closer, his stomach fluttering with dread. “Ui-myeoung. What are you talking about?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ui-myeoung said. “Destroying that tracker isn’t going to stop them from finding us; at most, it’s bought us a little time. We can’t risk anyone leaving and cutting that time even shorter.”

“You think they’ll turn us in?” Hyun-su asked.

Ui-myeoung’s eyes flicked to Jae-hwan. “He was going to. I imagine there are others who’d be willing to try.” His piercing gaze swept around the room, the survivors shying back. “I don’t plan on letting that happen.”

“We can’t force them to stay here,” Hyun-su insisted.

Ui-myeoung barked a sharp laugh. “Of course we can. They’re human.”

“There are more of us than there are of you,” Eun-hyeok said. His shoulders were squared, but Hyun-su could see the trace of fear in his eyes.

Ui-myeoung smiled. “You and I both know that that won’t matter.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Hyun-su broke in, his hands outstretched. “Just stop, okay? No one has to fight.” He turned to Ui-myeoung. “We can’t keep them here. It’s wrong.”

“There’s no such thing as right or wrong,” Ui-myeoung scoffed. “Not in this world, not anymore. Good and bad don’t matter, only survival. If you can’t do what it takes to survive, you’ll die.” His eyes flicked from survivor to survivor, human to human. “Just like them.”

“You can taunt and threaten all you want,” Yu-ri said. “It’s not going to stop us from leaving. We won’t sell you out, but we’re not staying here.”

“Yu-ri, don’t push him,” Mr. An murmured, his fingers creasing her sleeve.

Ui-myeoung’s eyes flashed. “It seems to me you’re not taking this seriously.” In a split second, he had his pistol drawn and pointed at her. Yu-ri paled; Mr. An swore and tugged her back, shielding her with his body. The survivors broke into panicked cries. “Let me assure you, I’m not playing games.”

“Hey, hey!” Hyun-su pushed himself between them. The barrel of the pistol brushed his chest. “Stop! What are you doing?”

Do NOT get us shot, you fucking idiot! his monster snapped.

Ui-myeoung clicked his tongue. “When are you going to get it, Hyun-su? They’re human, they don’t matter.” His eyes flicked to Sangwook, who had Eun-yu pushed behind him, his arms back to keep her from peeking out. “Not even your little friends.”

Rage snapped in Hyun-su’s chest. He grabbed Ui-myeoung’s wrist in a bone-crushing grip, keeping the gun pointed at him. His eyes were black.

“Don’t look at them,” he growled. “Look at me.”

Ui-myeoung sighed. “I’m disappointed in you. Really, I am. I thought you understood what it meant to be one of us. But you’re still holding onto these—these attachments.” His gaze was sharp and cold as flint, an edge of taunting behind his eyes. “You can’t hold onto them forever, you know.”

The monster bared its teeth in his face and snarled. Ui-myeoung shot him in the stomach. The pain knocked Hyun-su to his knees, swift and vicious.

FUCK! shouted the monster as he gasped for breath. What did I say!?

“That was your fault!” Hyun-su hissed. He was distantly aware of the survivors screaming, of Eun-yu shouting his name and Sangwook shouting hers, of footsteps thundering against the ground. All of it felt distant through the ringing of his ears and the clawing pain in his stomach.

“No one leaves,” Ui-myeoung said. He began firing into the crowd, and everything came back into focus with the momentum of a freight train. Hyun-su staggered to his feet and slammed his shoulder into Ui-myeoung’s gut, driving him back through the wall in a spray of splinters and shattered wood. They landed against the hood of the gangsters’ stolen military van, Hyun-su’s fists knotted in Ui-myeoung’s coat, Ui-myeoung grinning that thrilled, manic grin.

“Really?” he laughed. “You’re defending them?”

“I won’t let you hurt them,” Hyun-su rasped. He could taste blood in the back of his throat.

“You’re too late,” Ui-myeoung said, his smile cruel. Hyun-su’s stomach dropped. He whipped around, searching for a body, a bloodstain, someone he knew bleeding out on the ground—

Ui-myeoung flung him through the adjacent wall with a crash. Hyun-su went down hard, broken chunks of drywall and wood digging into his back, gasping for breath that never came.

“I just don’t get it,” Ui-myeoung said. He stretched leisurely, his spine popping. Hyun-su tried and failed to push himself into a sitting position; his back screamed at every movement. Ui-myeoung delicately picked his way through the hole in the wall. “Why would you choose humans over your own kind? What can they offer you that’s better than someone who understands, who knows what it’s like to be like you?”

It was a good question, Hyun-su thought. But as Ui-myeoung moved towards him, those eyes pinning him into the rubble like a butterfly, he didn’t see his own kind. He didn’t even see a monster. What stood before him was something else entirely.

It finally clicked as Ui-myeoung crouched before him, that too-wide grin stretching across his face. Ui-myeoung’s eyes weren’t black. And despite how normal they appeared, they weren’t human either.  

“You’re not like me,” Hyun-su realized. Black flowed from his pupils like ink into water. “You’re not like us.”

Ui-myeoung’s grin faltered. He cocked his head. “Oh, how interesting. What are you?”

“What am I?” the monster snarled. “What are you? The human or the monster?”

Ui-myeoung shook his head. “Incredible. You’re really something special, Hyun-su. And you have no idea, do you?”

Black eyes narrowed. “The fuck are you—”

Ui-myeoung grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the wall. Glass cracked somewhere behind him. Hyun-su wheezed, the impact knocking the black out his eyes.

Fuck! Again!? the monster seethed. Hyun-su had half a mind to agree, but he was a little busy scrabbling at Ui-myeoung’s wrists as he was slowly dragged up the wall, trying to buy enough space to breathe.

“It’s such a shame,” Ui-myeoung sighed. Hyun-su’s vertebrae ground against the cracked mirror, the sharp edges digging in torturously slowly as his heels left the ground. “I’m so curious to know what goes on in that head of yours. But you’ve become such a hassle, and with the military on the way, I just don’t have the time.” Ui-myeoung pulled one hand back; Hyun-su had just enough time to gasp in a breath before Ui-myeoung’s arm plunged through his chest and he lost it in a hoarse shout. The sharp tip pierced the glass behind him, cracks spiderwebbing out. Hyun-su gasped and coughed.

“I should have known this would happen, after you were sulking about killing that woman,” Ui-myeoung said. Seon-yeoung’s face, eyes bulging and veins standing out against her forehead, flashed through Hyun-su’s mind; he flinched. “You want to know a secret? You didn’t actually kill anyone. Because that woman was me!”

Hyun-su’s blood froze in his veins. Even the monster, a roiling mass of rage behind his breastbone, seemed to still. That couldn’t be true, could it? But why would Ui-myeoung lie? He had nothing to gain.

Then, like puzzle pieces, everything clicked into place. Seon-yeoung’s sword-like arm, running him through just like Ui-myeoung’s was now. Her face twisted with rage as she advanced towards Eun-hyeok, but her eyes cold and blank. Ui-myeoung’s expression as he’d dropped Jung-seop from the roof, corpselike in its emptiness. Even now, his face split by that wide grin, laughing like a hyena, there was nothing in those eyes. The black creeping over his sclera consumed everything. Every trace of humanity was gone.

Dead.

That fucking BODY SNATCHER! Hyun-su’s monster roared. It surged to the front and grabbed Ui-myeoung by his coat.

“How fucking dare you,” it snarled. “How dare you spit on her grave like that! You desecrated that poor woman’s corpse, and you’re laughing!?”

Ui-myeoung tilted his head. “Now that’s interesting. I would’ve thought Hyun-su would be the source of your human obsession. Why do you care about them?”

“This isn’t even your original body, is it!?” the monster spat. “What happened to the real Ui-myeoung!?”

“You’re smart,” Ui-myeoung commented. “It makes it even more of a shame that you chose to align yourself with humans. We could have done great things together.” He ripped his arm out of Hyun-su’s chest. The monster crumpled to the floor, the mirror crashing down on top of him. Ui-myeoung brushed off his coat, smearing Hyun-su’s blood down the side. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a few loose ends to clean up. That nurse is going to have to die. Maybe the wannabe-model she was arguing with, too. I’ll be back for you later.” He stepped out over the broken remains of the wall.

Get up, Hyun-su begged. He’s going to kill them, all of them. You have to get up!

“I’m fucking trying!” the monster snapped. Shards of glass dug into their palms as it tried to push them upright. Their arms trembled and gave out. The monster swore and grappled for the edge of the mirror, slicing their hand open, and tried to heave it off them. They didn’t have the right leverage; it slipped out of their bloody fingers. “Fuck!”

A gunshot rang out. Eun-yu screamed. The monster’s head whipped around, fear like it had never felt before flooding every nerve. The pit of their chest burned with rage. That monstrous, roiling thing in their gut surged up, howling for blood.

That was the last thing they remembered before Hyun-su, the monster, and the lines between them vanished into flame. 

Chapter Text

Eun-yu would never get used to seeing Hyun-su get shot.

It was something very instinctual in her, very human, that shrieked in anguish every time it happened. It didn’t matter that he’d heal, that she knew he’d heal, that hardly anything could kill him anymore. None of it mattered when blood sprayed from his back, when he collapsed to his knees and gasped in pain. None of it mattered, when that was someone she loved with a hole torn through him.

He’s dead, cried a part of her she couldn’t silence. He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead. It was fear and grief and rage swirling like a cyclone in her chest, tearing down the foundations of reason. Because Eun-yu was human, and she knew deep in her bones that a bullet to the chest meant death. He was already dead, even if he was still breathing.

She felt more than heard the cry that escaped her throat. She didn’t realize she was moving until Sangwook grabbed her arm and yanked her back.

“Let go, asshole!” she snapped, her voice breaking.

“You’ll get yourself killed,” Sangwook said. His eyes were fixed on Hyun-su; she could see the conflict in them, the uncertainty that slipped through his guard. “Hyun-su will be fine. Don’t get in his way.”

Gunshots rang out. Sangwook swore and pulled Eun-yu behind the nearest pillar, shielding her with his body. Someone screamed high and shrill. Fear and adrenaline crackled like lightning through Eun-yu’s blood, but the urge to look was stronger. She caught a glimpse of Hyun-su slamming Ui-myeoung through the wall before Sangwook yanked her back, horror and fury battling for dominance in his eyes. For a moment she thought he’d yell at her, but instead he glanced distractedly in the direction the scream had come from. He looked like he was juggling a hundred things and couldn’t decide which needed his attention more.

“What happened?” Eun-yu asked. The lobby echoed with the screams and sobs of the survivors. She tried to peek out; Sangwook’s arm blocked her.

“You don’t want to know, kid.”

“I’m not an idiot, Sangwook! I know it’s bad! Just tell me what—”

“Byeoung-il’s dead.”

Eun-yu’s heart dropped into her shoes. “W-What?”

“He’s dead,” Sangwook said sharply. He turned and gripped her shoulders. “He’s dead, and he’s not going to be the only one today. So I need you to listen to me and follow my lead, you understand? That’s the only way we survive this.”

Eun-yu nodded mutely. Sangwook chanced another look outside, Hyun-su and Ui-myeoung’s fight crashing in the distance. “It’s clear. Come on.”

Eun-yu struggled to keep pace as they bolted across the lobby, Sangwook’s grip on her arms keeping her sheltered under his bulk. Before she knew it, they were crouched behind a wall with Jaehyun and Ji-su, both of whom were drawn tense as a bowstring from fear and grief.

“What the fuck do we do!?” Ji-su hissed. Her eyes were glistening.

“You think I know!?” Sangwook bit back.

“I think not getting shot is a good first goal,” Jaehyun said. He sat slumped against the wall, pale and sweaty. Ji-su’s hand was knotted in his shirt.

“Did you get hit?” Sangwook asked.

Jaehyun shook his head. “No. But I’m nowhere near cleared for this amount of activity.” He peered at the bandages around his stump, wincing. “And I probably tore a few stitches. Problem for another day.”

Eun-yu glanced around, mind reeling. Seungwan, Jin-ok, Jae-hwan and Hye-in were huddled together on the opposite side of the lobby, Hye-in sobbing over Byeoung-il’s body, Jin-ok trying to coax her away. Eun-yu caught a glimpse of Byeoung-il’s dull, dead eyes, a line of blood running down his chin, and shivered.

A loud crunch of glass had her eyes snapping to the opening where Hyun-su and Ui-myeoung had disappeared. Moments later, Hyun-su shouted in pain. Eun-yu didn’t even realize she was standing until Sangwook grabbed her arm and yanked her back down.

“We have to help him!” she cried.

“We can’t,” Sangwook said. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“There has to be something! We can’t just—"

“No,” Sangwook said sharply. “When two tigers are fighting, you don’t get between them. Not ever. You’ll get ripped apart.”

“Hyun-su wouldn’t—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he snapped. “He could kill you without meaning to. Or Ui-myeoung could use you against him. Stay away from them, Eun-yu.”

Her eyes widened; Sangwook almost never called her by her name.

A distant crash drew her eyes back to the lobby. Yu-ri was out in the open, tying a tourniquet over a survivor’s gunshot wound, Mr. An hovering anxiously nearby. He shouted and pulled Yu-ri to her feet as Ui-myeoung stepped through the hole in the wall. Eun-yu watched as they locked gazes, as Ui-myeoung levelled his gun at Yu-ri’s chest, as her eyes widened. They were too far away—she had to help—

Ui-myeoung pulled the trigger. Eun-yu screamed. Blood splattered Yu-ri’s face.

It wasn’t hers.

Mr. An stood between Ui-myeoung and Yu-ri, gripping her shoulders like a vice. Blood spread over the front of his shirt. Yu-ri had her eyes squeezed shut; they opened a sliver, then blew wide at the sight before her, a choked gasp escaping her lips. Mr. An glanced down at his wound, chuckled, then coughed.

“I haven’t moved that fast in years,” he rasped.

“No,” Yu-ri breathed. “No. Tell me you didn’t.” Her fingers ghosted over his arms as blood seeped down his shirtfront. Her eyes flicked between the growing stain and his face, tears welling up, her voice breaking. “Why—why would you do that? What were you thinking?”

“It’s alright,” Mr. An said. His smile was strained and bloody. “I’m an old man, I’ve had my time. You, you have your whole life ahead of you. Can’t have that going to waste.”

“No,” Yu-ri choked out. “You shouldn’t have—why would you do something so—so stupid? After all this time, after all you’ve survived? You—” her face twisted, tears spilling over, her fists knotting in his shirtsleeves. “No, you can’t—you can’t leave. It’s not right. I’m not ready.”

“Isn’t that funny?” Mr. An chuckled. His eyes glistened. “I’ve been dying for years. You’d think we’d be prepared by now.” He stumbled, steadied himself, smiled and squeezed her shoulders with trembling hands. “I don’t want to leave you either, my dear. But this?” He looked up at the ceiling, at the golden shafts of sunlight streaming in through the gaps in the boards, fragments of dusky sky peeking through. “This is not a bad way to die.”

He let out one last, long breath, closing his eyes, his strained smile softening into something more genuine. His body fell backwards, crumpling to the floor, and Yu-ri collapsed with it, a strangled sob escaping her throat.

“How touching,” Ui-myeoung said. Eun-yu’s heart jumped. Yu-ri’s head shot up, grief and rage swirling in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. “Such a noble sacrifice. It almost makes me want to spare you. But I’m afraid I have a job to finish.” Ui-myeoung raised his gun—

—and jerked back as Yi-kyung sprayed him with bullets.

“Move!” she shouted and opened fire again, darting across the lobby. Ui-myeoung stumbled and turned to shield his face. Sangwook bolted out and grabbed Yu-ri, hauling her off Mr. An’s body. Ji-su was quick to pull them to safety.

Ui-myeoung’s head snapped up, eyes wild, blood streaming from his face. Bullets plinked to the floor. Eun-yu accidentally caught his gaze and her blood went cold. For a moment, she thought he’d shoot her right then and there.

“It doesn’t matter who you save,” he hissed, his face a mask of rage. “None of you are getting out of here alive.” He turned and shot the military van, gasoline spilling out onto the ground, then slashed at the supporting cable of the chandelier with his sword-like arm. It came crashing down in a rain of sparks and broken glass. The gas lit quickly, flames bursting to life and crawling up the sides of the van, licking at the walls and climbing, leaving swathes of ash and embers in their wake. The air turned thick with heat and the smell of smoke. Ui-myeoung tipped his head back, staring up through the slats of the ceiling where the moon had just begun to overlap the sun, and grinned.

A cacophonous crash of glass and metal rang out, drawing all eyes to the hole in the wall. For a long moment, the room was silent but for the crackling of flames; then a clumsy shuffling of footsteps broke through the stillness. Everyone waited in tense anticipation; the survivors with mute, breath-holding terror, Ui-myeoung with rapt curiosity.

When Hyun-su appeared, he barely looked human.

He stumbled through the opening like every bone in his legs was broken, like he remembered the movement but couldn’t get his body to cooperate. He grabbed a jutting spear of wood for balance, and for a moment it was the only thing keeping him upright, his knees threatening to buckle. His sweater hung off one shoulder, so torn and bloody it was unrecognizable. He was covered in dust and blood and ash. His chest heaved, blood flaking off bare skin, breaths so labored his head bobbed with each one. Black swirled over his eyes like ink in water, never lingering, never overtaking them, flashes of white sclera and brown iris peeking through. He looked confused, disoriented, scared.

Outside, the moon eclipsed the sun. The lobby fell into darkness, lit only by the flames dancing around its edges. An eerie silence hung in the air. The whole room seemed to hold its breath, suffocated by the weight of the moment.

A dark blade-like shape punched out of the muscle of Hyun-su’s shoulder. He screamed.

For a moment, Eun-yu thought it was Ui-myeoung attacking, that he’d somehow snuck up behind him with that sword-like arm, but when Hyun-su collapsed to the ground, there was no one behind him. He clawed at the rubble-strewn floor like a fox caught in a snare as another spike ripped out of his bicep, then another further down his arm. And another, and another.

The sound of it was horrible. Squelching, tearing flesh, snapping tendons, blood spraying in arcs across the floor. Bones crunched and shifted under skin, sharp points pressing out. Hyun-su gasped and sobbed, clutching at his mutilated arm, curling into himself as more of those dark chitinous spikes tore free. Eun-yu glimpsed something huge rippling under the skin of his forearm before it sliced perfectly through the middle of his scar, blood gushing out like the wound had never healed. The largest spike so far slid out, sides gently curved like a feather or a sword, so long it split Hyun-su’s palm right down the middle. The sharp tip scraped the floor with a sound like a blade being unsheathed. Hyun-su sobbed, the fingers of his mangled hand spasming on either side, tendons and muscles severed.

There was hardly time for the horror of it to set in before Hyun-su’s arm disappeared into a massive wave of cartilaginous spikes, all bursting free at once. The sound was deafening, a cacophony of crunching and tearing that drowned out Hyun-su’s howls of agony and the survivors’ cries of terror. The great, monstrous limb—a wing, Eun-yu’s mind tried to rationalize—curved over Hyun-su in a dark, bristling arch. Hyun-su panted breathlessly through bared teeth, his eyes overtaken by black.

Ui-myeoung dropped his gun with a clatter. Hyun-su’s head snapped towards him and his irises lit up like flares in the dark, burning as orange as the flames around him. The wing thrashed mindlessly, blade-like feathers scraping the floor, flinging aside rubble and debris. It yanked at Hyun-su’s shoulder like it wanted to be free, like its attachment to him was the only thing keeping it from wreaking havoc on everything in sight. But as Hyun-su stood, those eyes fixed on Ui-myeoung like embers of rage, Eun-yu wasn’t so sure he would stand in its way.

Ui-myeoung clapped like a noble at a freak show, frantic and excited, his expression brimming with sick delight. Hyun-su advanced, that great and terrible wing dragging behind him, beating at the ground like it was trying to take flight. Ui-myeoung didn’t stop clapping; it was almost like he couldn’t, enraptured by the moment, captivated by the terrible sight before him.

Hyun-su’s wing swept forth and curled around Ui-myeoung, scoring deep gouges in the wall behind him. The sound of piercing flesh rang out through the room; the survivors screamed. Eun-yu caught a flash of movement in the corner of her eye and grabbed Ji-su’s wrist, stopping her just before she could throw the lit Molotov in her hand.

“What are you doing?” Eun-yu demanded, voice shrill with panic.

Ji-su didn’t even look at her, eyes remaining fixed on Hyun-su and Ui-myeoung. “That’s a monster.”

“It’s Hyun-su!”

The horrific tearing of flesh rang out again. Ui-myeoung didn’t so much as flinch at the dozens of blade-like feathers running him through. A soft smile spread across his face, quiet and awed. He stroked his fingertips along a feather near Hyun-su’s shoulder; it lengthened, plunging through first his palm, then his eye.

“Look at you,” he whispered. The corners of his mouth curled. “Look at what you’ve become.”

Hyun-su didn’t say a word. He didn’t scream or snarl or snap, didn’t use that wing full of sharp edges to rip Ui-myeoung to shreds. He just stared at him with those striking orange eyes, raw and animal in their intensity. He watched him like a cat watching a mouse bleed out under its claws, like something very large watching something very small die and finding it fascinating. The crushing weight of his attention wasn't human nor monster. It was something much older, much more dangerous, something far too ancient to be concerned with things like morals. Before, Ui-myeoung had seemed so clever, so powerful; now, he was just a tiny, dying thing trapped under Hyun-su’s claws. And yet he smiled, even as the feathers impaling him glowed red-orange like hot coals, the sizzle of boiling blood and the smell of burning flesh intensifying, the air shimmering with heat.

“Welcome to godhood, Hyun-su,” he murmured as his skin blackened. Then his body sloughed to the ground in a pile of scorched slag, and Hyun-su’s wing swept down, striking the floor with an earth-shaking thud.

Eun-hyeok rushed up on Eun-yu’s other side with a flamethrower. She swiped for it with her free hand but missed, dread seizing her heart as he slipped past her.

“Don’t,” she cried. “Eun-hyeok, don’t! It’s still Hyun-su!”

Eun-hyeok paid her no heed. Hyun-su’s wing swung in a wide arc, tearing through the room’s supports. Concrete and metal crashed to the ground. Eun-hyeok raised the flamethrower, aimed it at Hyun-su—

And stumbled as Sangwook grabbed the nozzle and shoved it up towards the ceiling.

Eun-hyeok stared at him in shock. Sangwook’s eyes were wide and wild, like even he didn’t know what he was doing, but he didn’t back down, his face hardening with resolve, his grip on the flamethrower tightening.

“I won’t let you kill him,” he said.

A thunderous crash drew their attention back to Hyun-su. The monstrous wing tore through everything in its path, yanking him along with it. His glowing eyes were hollow as he stumbled towards them, the wing locking onto them like a heat-seeking missile, blade-like feathers bristling like a thousand swords. Eun-hyeok swore and scrambled back, throwing an arm out to shield Eun-yu. Ji-su’s arm holding the Molotov jerked; Eun-yu tightened her grip. Sangwook didn’t move an inch, just stared Hyun-su down as he shambled closer, chitinous feathers rattling a death knell.

“Come on, kid,” he muttered. Every muscle in his body was drawn taut, but still, he didn’t move. “Prove me right.”

Hyun-su’s wing thrashed furiously. Eun-yu’s heart leapt into her throat. For one terrible moment, she wondered if she’d made a mistake.

The ember glow of Hyun-su’s eyes flickered, and for just a heartbeat, vanished. Horror dawned on his face. He twisted sharply to the side, pulling the wing away from them. It swung around the other way and yanked him right back. Still, he fought, planting his heels as it tried to drag him forward. Its next swing nearly knocked him off his feet. He met gazes with Sangwook, then Eun-yu, orange eyes flooded with fear.

“Run,” he gasped. The wing thrashed and he snarled, eyes flickering black. “RUN!”

His feathers glowed so hot the tips turned white. Hyun-su lurched towards them—

And was intercepted by a body, pinning his wing to his chest in a bear hug. Hyun-su snarled and turned with the momentum, driving the figure up against the wall. Feathers pierced flesh, blood sizzling on their superheated tips.

Du-sik, standing on his own two feet, gasped and clutched Hyun-su tighter.

“It’s okay,” he choked out. Blood stained his lips. “It’s okay, Hyun-su.”

Hyun-su twitched and thrashed. More feathers plunged through Du-sik’s chest, their bloody tips scraping the wall behind him. Du-sik grunted in pain and his fingers scrabbled for a grip on Hyun-su’s sweat-slick back.

“It’s okay,” he said again. “It’s not your fault.” One of his hands came up to clutch Hyun-su’s head against his neck. Hyun-su growled distractedly, his fire-bright eyes fixed on some invisible point past Du-sik’s throat. Oddly enough, he didn’t struggle, didn’t move at all save for the occasional full-body twitch. He barely seemed aware of Du-sik’s presence, only that something was keeping him from his path of destruction.

Slowly, the rage left Hyun-su, his shoulders loosening, the bristling feathers of his wing lowering to lay flat. He stood eerily still in Du-sik’s arms, staring out at nothing, his only movement the automatic shift of his feet to keep them upright when Du-sik stumbled. Du-sik kept holding onto him, muttering reassurances into his hair, his breaths becoming increasingly labored. Blood dripped from his lips onto Hyun-su’s shoulder. The blade-like feathers cooled from white to orange to red, then finally to their original reddish-black once again. They began to shrink away, receding into Hyun-su’s skin. 

For a long moment, time seemed to stand still. The orange glow of Hyun-su’s irises faded, the black in his eyes withdrawing until only the usual brown remained. His shoulders began to shake. Du-sik hushed him and stroked his hair with trembling, bloodless fingers.

“It’s alright,” he murmured, his voice almost too soft to hear. “It’s not your fault.”

Hyun-su broke into sobs so harsh and wretched they sounded painful. Ji-su’s arm lowered, the flame on her Molotov having long-since gone out. Eun-yu clung to Sangwook’s arm with both hands, her tears soaking into his sleeve. Sangwook’s feet were rooted to the ground, the wheels of his mind spinning without traction, at a loss for what to do. Even Yi-kyung had tears running down her face.

Hyun-su sobbed in Du-sik’s arms for what felt like hours. Slowly, Du-sik slid down against the wall, leaving a smear of blood in his wake. His grip loosened until Hyun-su’s head lay in his lap, quiet and still, having cried himself into unconsciousness. He wasn’t awake to see it when Du-sik breathed his last. 

For a long while, no one dared to move. Tears ran down faces and neighbors clung to each other, the electric crackle of fear slowly fading from their bones. Silence and grief reigned over the room. 

Finally, Hyun-su stirred. He grunted, shifted, then groggily pushed himself upright. His confused, bleary-eyed gaze fell on Du-sik’s face, a line of blood drying on his chin. His eyes widened.

Hyun-su screamed.

Chapter Text

For as long as Sangwook had known him, Hyun-su had been a quiet crier.

It wasn’t something he’d witnessed often. Maybe once or twice, in the months they’d spent trapped in this godforsaken building. Times Sangwook had been passing by the arcade only to freeze at the barely-there sound of hitching breaths and quiet sniffles. It was no mystery who they belonged to; who else could it be? Those were the sounds of someone who was used to being overlooked, someone so practiced in hiding his pain that it was second nature to stifle his sobs even when no one was around. Someone who had learned to make himself small rather than bother anyone else. Even before he’d really known the kid, that description fit Hyun-su to a T.

Sangwook wasn’t anything special. He couldn’t read people like a book or know what they were thinking just from a twitch of an eyebrow or a shifting of weight. But when you went through life carrying as much pain as he did… well. There were some things you just knew.

Like how he knew that Hyun-su’s silent tears weren’t just a habit of someone accustomed to isolation, but a sign that he’d been carrying something far too heavy for far too long. How he was too exhausted to sob or wail or scream, to give voice to the unimaginable weight in his chest, the things that slowly tore at his soul like weighted hooks dragging down through the flesh of his heart. How sometimes he just wanted to reach into his chest and rip them out, how he’d choose the flash of agony over this prolonged ache in a heartbeat.

The worst part wasn’t the pain, Sangwook knew. No, the worst part was, after an agonizingly long day of slogging through the mud, pushing that boulder that no one else seemed to carry up the hill, holding on by a thread until the sun finally went down and he could let himself crash down into an exhausted heap, it still wasn’t over. Because he’d have to get up and do the same thing the next day, and the next, and the next. The worst part wasn’t the pain, but the creeping dread that it would never end, that he’d spend the rest of his life dragging it behind him like a ball and chain. That it would wear away at his soul until there was nothing left, and even then, he’d have to keep going. That he’d never be free.

In the face of a future like that, death didn’t seem so bad.

Though part of him had wanted to, Sangwook never spoke up, never tried to offer Hyun-su his support. For one thing, he didn’t know how; he had no way of solving this problem for him, no way of easing his pain, nothing to offer but paltry advice that would more likely come off as patronization. Sangwook had never been good with words; if it couldn’t be fixed with sarcasm or violence, he was out of his depth. And even if he did somehow manage to say the right thing, what then? He saw the way Hyun-su shrunk into the shadows, heard the undercurrent of anxiety in his voice whenever he spoke; the kid was terrified of being a burden. If Sangwook went in there and tried to talk to him, he’d close off in an instant, insist he was fine and that Sangwook shouldn’t waste his time. And maybe it was a bit selfish, but Sangwook didn’t think he could face that failure.

So he didn’t make himself known, didn’t scuff his boot on the tile or knock on the arcade door, didn’t ask Hyun-su if he was alright. He’d just sat down as quietly as he could, his back against the wall, and tried to convince himself that this was enough. That being there with Hyun-su, even if the kid didn’t know it, was better than nothing. That at least he wasn’t leaving him alone with nothing but the quiet echo of his tears.

He listened so he wouldn’t forget. He listened so someone would hear Hyun-su’s pain. He listened, because no one else would.

What he’d heard back then was nothing like what he was hearing now.

Sangwook knew pain. He knew grief. He’d heard parents wail for their dead children, seen men and women reduced to hollow shells of themselves after the loss of a friend, watched streets ridden with gang violence go dark and quiet to honor their dead. He still remembered how it felt to lose his father, the agony of fresh burns clawing up his back, his throat tight from smoke and tears, his heart ripping out of his chest when his father pushed him away and shouted for him to go. That pain and despair would haunt him for decades.

All of it paled in comparison to the look in Hyun-su’s eyes when he saw Du-sik dead on the ground.

It was like something in him broke. Gone were the silent tears of the arcade; Hyun-su screamed and howled and gasped great heaving sobs, the whites of his eyes flashing like a deer in the headlights, like something wild realizing just a heartbeat too late that it had ventured too far into the road. It was the agonizing guilt of a mother bird that had trampled her eggs, the terror of a child losing a parent, the overwhelming despair of a guardian that had failed to protect the thing most important to them. All of it poured out of Hyun-su like a tidal wave, the room echoing with his soul-tearing sounds of grief.

Nothing in this world or any other could have stopped Sangwook from rushing to his side. His knees hit the tile hard, the pain going unnoticed in favor of grabbing Hyun-su and crushing him into a too-tight hug. Hyun-su wailed as the movement pulled him further from Du-sik, scrabbling for a grip on the dead man’s arm.

“Let him go, Hyun-su,” Sangwook murmured. Hyun-su sobbed and shook his head, never once taking his eyes off Du-sik. “Let him go. He’s gone.”

Hyun-su made a sharp, high noise, curling in on himself like the words caused him physical pain. Sangwook squeezed him tighter. “I know, kid. I’m sorry.”

“He’s dead,” Hyun-su breathed. His arms shook, fingers still clasped around Du-sik’s wrist in a white-knuckled grip, tears streaming down his face. “He’s dead. I don’t—how did he—I can’t remember.” His voice turned shrill with panic. “Why can’t I remember?”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sangwook said. Hyun-su didn’t even seem to hear the words, his breaths turning shallow and gasping. “Breathe, kid. It wasn’t your fault.”

A few of the survivors began to drag Du-sik’s body away. Hyun-su damn-near screamed, lurching forward to redouble his grip; Sangwook snatched him back in the nick of time, Du-sik’s arm slipping out of his grasp. The agonized noise that escaped Hyun-su’s chest made Sangwook wince, but he knew if he’d allowed him to hang on, he never would have let go. Hyun-su clung to his arm like a lifeline, watching with terror and devastation as Du-sik’s body was dragged away.

As the sounds of his grief grew stifled, whispers and muttered words filtered in from around the lobby. Someone was crying, deep gasping sobs only a hair’s-breadth softer than Hyun-su’s had been. Two other people were arguing, sharp voices cutting through the air but the words failing to register. All of it felt far away to Sangwook, single-mindedly focused on trying to keep the kid in his arms from shaking apart.

A hand landed on his shoulder. Sangwook whipped around, scathing words on the tip of his tongue, before realizing it was Jaehyun, kneeling next to him with lines of stress creasing his face.

“Sangwook,” he said gently. “I think you should go.”

Rage and betrayal sparked in Sangwook’s chest. It must have shown on his face, because Jaehyun winced, raising his hand placatingly.

“Not for our sake,” he said. He tipped his head towards Hyun-su. “For his.”

Sangwook narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Because there are a lot of scared people here,” Jaehyun said. “And scared people, especially in groups, tend to do things they regret.”

Sangwook’s eyes flicked to the survivors, hanging in clusters around the edges of the lobby. They stared at Hyun-su like he was something dangerous, something monstrous. Like he hadn’t been a member of their community earlier that same day.

“I’m not saying to leave the building,” Jaehyun said. “Just take him somewhere else for a while. He doesn’t need all these eyes on him.”

Sangwook grunted a vague agreement, moving to stand. Then his eyes fell on Yu-ri, curled over Mr. An’s body, and his heart dropped into his shoes as he realized the person sobbing was her.

He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. The pain she must be going through, and here he was, comforting the monster instead of her. He hated himself for the thought, but it didn’t change the guilt of leaving her to battle her grief alone.

“She’ll be alright,” Jaehyun said, having followed his gaze. Sangwook didn’t believe him for a second, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene. Jaehyun grabbed his shoulder. “Sangwook. She’ll be okay. Go.”

Sangwook glanced between Hyun-su and Yu-ri, visibly conflicted. “But—”

“Ji-su is with her,” Jaehyun said. “She has me, and the rest of the community. He only has you.”

That wasn’t true, Sangwook thought. He had Eun-yu too. But… where was Eun-yu, anyway?

“—swear to god, if you don’t get your fucking hands off me—” Eun-yu snapped. Sangwook caught sight of her right as she broke free of Eun-hyeok’s grip, bolting towards them as he cursed and reached after her. All it took was a single glare from Sangwook to stop him in his tracks. Eun-yu grabbed Hyun-su’s arm and hauled him to his feet, Sangwook following suit. Hyun-su barely seemed to notice her tugging him towards the hall, staring hollow-eyed at the bloodstain where Du-sik’s body had lain, shivers wracking his frame. Sangwook slipped off his jacket and draped it over his bare shoulders.

“Come on, kid,” he said, nudging him after Eun-yu. “Let’s go.”

.

.

.

Hyun-su all but fell asleep the moment Sangwook got him horizontal, having cried himself to exhaustion for the second time that day. Eun-yu curled up next to him on the cot, her arm hooked over his side, something fragile slipping through her mask of anger. Sangwook knew better than to ask her about it, just sat with his back against the edge of the cot and pretended not to hear her quiet sniffles. It wasn’t long before she was asleep too; Sangwook tossed a blanket over them both and resumed his silent vigil.

He didn’t know what they were supposed to do from here. It wasn’t like he’d ever had a plan to begin with; he hadn’t planned on getting involved in the mess of Hyun-su’s monsterization, hadn’t planned on getting so attached to him and Eun-yu. But he had, and even the thought of going back to the lone-wolf life he’d lived for decades made him feel queasy, his body rejecting the very idea. He was stuck with those kids for good, whether he liked it or not.

And sure, things had never been simple with Hyun-su. There had always been tension among the survivors, many of them unable to let go of the fear that he’d one day turn, that he was a ticking time bomb living among their community. But at least back then, it had seemed like a far-off possibility, a needless paranoia after months of Hyun-su’s monsterization stagnating. Even though he’d known it was a possibility, maybe even an inevitability, Sangwook had been able to pretend it wasn’t. He’d been able to pretend that Hyun-su was just another human kid, a little tougher than most, but a kid nonetheless. Someone to protect.

He'd been clinging to that idea a bit too hard as of late. Hyun-su’s monster side slamming him into a wall had been a harsh wake-up call. It was a jarring concept, the idea that Hyun-su let Sangwook protect him. That any authority Sangwook thought he had was only perceived, something Hyun-su could snatch out from under him at any time. He really had no idea what Hyun-su was capable of, what he’d signed up for when he threw his lot in with him.

That didn’t mean Sangwook would stop looking out for him, though. Hyun-su may be stronger than him, faster, more capable in a fight, but that didn’t mean he knew better than him. Sangwook may be only human, but Hyun-su was still just a teenager; he’d run himself into the ground if no one stopped him. He needed someone around who at least had a clue what it meant to function as an adult. And sure, Sangwook wasn’t much of a role model, but the standards for ‘functional adult’ had shifted some since the world went to shit.

It seemed so simple, when he looked back on it now. None of his conflicting feelings, none of his indecisions and internal struggles back then compared to what he was facing now. Because now, Hyun-su wasn’t just some super-powered teenager with a self-sacrificing streak a mile long and a split-personality situation that only occasionally reared its head. Whether Sangwook liked it or not, Hyun-su was a monster. He’d turned into that nightmare of blood and flame and feathers, turned the lobby into a battleground, left ash and rubble in his wake. He’d killed 2 men, one of which he saw as a father figure. And as far as Sangwook could tell, he couldn’t remember any of it.

He didn’t think for a second that Hyun-su would have harmed Du-sik had he been in his right mind, but the dilemma remained; where did they go from here? Hyun-su was dangerous; that had always been true, but now undeniably so. Hyun-su was capable of far more destruction than any of them had expected, even if it had been unintentional. Hyun-su had turned, and yet he’d come back again. Whether this was a one-time catastrophe or if the threat of him losing control again was an ever-present danger, well, that remained to be seen. And though Sangwook hated how the survivors looked at Hyun-su with fear in their eyes, he couldn’t begrudge them for wanting to be far, far away when it happened.

“Sangwook,” said Eun-hyeok, jolting him out of his thoughts. Sangwook glanced up to find him at the door, the tension in his shoulders a glaring indicator that he wasn’t there out of the goodness of his heart. “Would you come outside? We need to talk to you.”

There it is, Sangwook thought, standing. He’d known that this would happen, of course, but he’d hoped they would at least give him enough time to sort out his own thoughts. That the survivors’ lingering fear of him, or even of Hyun-su, would dissuade them.

Jae-hwan, Jin-ok, and Yi-kyung were gathered in the hall when he stepped outside. Jae-hwan’s jaw was squared and his chest puffed up, but he twitched under Sangwook’s gaze. Jin-ok’s fingers creased her cardigan, fear sparking in her eyes as she caught a glimpse of Hyun-su inside; Sangwook closed the door pointedly. Yi-kyung looked him right in the eye, her expression stony.

“In light of… recent events,” Eun-hyeok said, “there have been some questions raised about whether it’s safe to allow Hyun-su to remain with the community.”

“Questions?” Jae-hwan squawked, face flushed with rage. “What questions are there? He killed Du-sik! We should have burned him already!”

“Look me in the fucking eyes and say that again,” Sangwook snarled, taking a threatening step forward. Jae-hwan shrank back.

“Jae-hwan isn’t wrong,” Yi-kyung said. Sangwook’s furious gaze snapped to her; she didn’t so much as blink. “There’s no question that Hyun-su is too dangerous to keep with us. The only question is when and how we get rid of him. Personally, I think he’s too valuable as a bargaining chip to kill.”

Sangwook’s rage didn’t dim, only took on a new form, growing sharp and cold as ice. “A bargaining chip.”

“We can turn him over to the military in exchange for our safety,” Yi-kyung said.

“I thought you didn’t trust the military,” Eun-hyeok said. Sangwook didn’t believe for a second that he meant it for Hyun-su’s benefit.

“I don’t. But without the advantage of Hyun-su on our side, our best chance of survival is to negotiate a deal with them.”

“You know what would be a really easy way to keep Hyun-su on our side?” Sangwook said, his voice dripping acid. “Don’t kick him out.”

“We have to,” Jin-ok said. “He’s too dangerous. We have kids here, you know.”

Yeah, Sangwook thought bitterly. Hyun-su is one of them.

“We don’t have to kill him,” Jae-hwan blurted. “We could just send him outside with the other monsters, let them kill each other. Or leave him here when we go through the tunnels.”

“Oh, so now you want to leave?” Sangwook scoffed. “You seemed pretty set on staying when you sentenced Gil-seob to his death.” Jae-hwan flinched; Sangwook thought he saw a flicker of real guilt cross his face.

“Mr. An’s death wasn’t Jae-hwan’s fault,” Eun-hyeok said, voice subdued. “None of us could have known how Ui-myeoung would react.”

“He threw us all under the bus for a chance to save his own hide,” Sangwook snapped. “He’s the one we should be throwing out. He’s only backtracking now ‘cause he’s scared.”

“Of course I’m scared!” Jae-hwan cried. “Look at what he did to Du-sik! Forget the military, we need to get as far away from him as possible before he kills someone else!”

“We gain nothing if we just leave him behind,” Yi-kyung argued. “The smartest option is to turn him in. We could barter for resources, if nothing else.”

“Barter?” Sangwook seethed. “He’s not a fucking token you can exchange for a few meals!” He pointed towards the door. “That is a kid in there! A kid who’s just as terrified and confused as we are, who just lost the closest thing he had to a father in this fucking place, and you’re all standing around talking about what the best way to kill him is! Listen to yourselves!”

“He’s a monster,” Jin-ok said quietly, like it made any difference.

Sangwook fixed her with a cutting look. “Keep telling yourself that. Maybe it’ll make you feel better about sending a 19-year-old to his death.” Jin-ok’s flinch made a grim sort of satisfaction curl in his chest. He turned to Eun-hyeok. “You agree with this?”

Eun-hyeok startled like he’d zoned out. His eyes darted around the room before landing on Sangwook, and yet he barely seemed to notice him, that thousand-yard stare passing straight through him like he was made of glass.

“I don’t make the decisions for this community,” Eun-hyeok mumbled. “I think we should vote.”

“You know they’ll vote to leave him behind,” Sangwook said. “You think you could live with that? Being complicit in his murder?”

Eun-hyeok flinched.

“This isn’t a debate,” Yi-kyung snapped. “However we do it, Hyun-su can’t come with us. We’re leaving this place without him; the sooner you accept that, the better.”

“Oh, is that right?” Sangwook drawled. “How ‘bout you try this on for size? If he’s not coming, neither am I.”

Yi-kyung’s eyes narrowed. “Is that supposed to scare me?”

“It should. You think you can protect all these people on your own? Without me, a lot more will die. We both know you won’t turn to the military for help, not when you’ve already spent your only bargaining chip. Are you ready to take responsibility for those deaths?” Yi-kyung’s face hardened; Sangwook turned to Eun-hyeok. “And good luck convincing your sister to leave without Hyun-su. You abandon him here, and she’ll spend the rest of her life hating you.”

“She already hates me,” Eun-hyeok mumbled.

Sangwook barked a harsh laugh. “You think that’s what this is? You don’t know what it means to be hated. Trust me, it can get much worse from here.” His sharp gaze swept over the group. “I don’t care that you’re afraid of him. I don’t care that you think he’s a monster. I’m not leaving here without him, and you need me on your side if you want to survive out there.” He leaned forward, lip curling to bare his teeth, the scar on his face wrinkling. “So stay the hell away from him, or I’ll show you who you should really be afraid of.”

Chapter Text

Hyun-su awoke to the feeling of forgetting something important.

For a moment, he didn’t know what to do. He just lay there and stared up at the stained ceiling of the infirmary, loss weighing heavy in his chest. Du-sik’s absence hurt like a hole in the heart; it hurt to even think about, and yet Hyun-su couldn’t stop his thoughts from drawing to it, prodding at the empty space like a missing tooth. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Should he scream? Cry? Break something? He’d lost people before, he knew how it felt, but this was… different, somehow. Losing Du-sik wasn’t like losing his parents or his sister. Losing someone never felt right, it never felt justified, but with Du-sik, something was wrong. Something was missing.

Hyun-su sat up.

Eun-yu’s arm slid off his side. He glanced down to find her curled up on the cot next to him, still asleep. She looked almost as bad as he felt, faintly pale with dark circles carved under her eyes, brow furrowed like she could sense his malaise. There was a spot of dried blood on her knuckle.

Hyun-su had the sudden, horrifying impression that his hands were dripping in red. He looked down in a panic, but there was nothing there. He shivered and tried to expel the residual fear buzzing under his skin.

It’s okay, Hyun-su.

The flicker of words at the back of his mind made him flinch. He had to stop himself from glancing around the room, some frantic little part of him itching to search for the source. His eyes landed on Eun-yu instead. He hesitated, then quietly stood and padded out into the hall. No use waking her up with… whatever was going on in his head.

It's okay. It’s not your fault.

Hyun-su twitched. God, what was that? It didn’t sound like someone speaking, not really; there was no true voice to go with the words, just the impression of them being spoken aloud. He wracked his brain, reaching fruitlessly for a memory just beyond his grasp. When had someone said those words to him? What wasn’t his fault?

He stopped and blinked, realizing with a jolt of dread where his feet had taken him. Ash and rubble lay strewn across the lobby, cold air sweeping in through the half-crumbled walls. The sun hung low in the sky, its golden rays stretching across the room to fall upon the bloodstained concrete. Only the faint whisper of wind and the distant rustle of fallen leaves broke through the silence.

“Are you here?” Hyun-su whispered to the empty air.

For the first time since he’d woken, the monster stirred, uncurling in his chest like a cat waking from a long nap. Always.

“Something’s missing,” Hyun-su said.

They moved the bodies, said the monster, its voice oddly subdued. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think it was in mourning.

“It’s not that. Don’t you feel it?” Hyun-su stepped further into the room. Part of him welcomed the bitter chill of the winter air, how it drove all the errant thoughts from his mind. “Something happened here. I know it did. But I can’t remember what.”

Neither can I, said the monster. All I know is that it ended with three people dead.

“Three?” Hyun-su asked.

If he could see the monster, he was sure it would’ve nodded. Three. Count the bloodstains.

There were three. One in the very center of the room, a dried pool with a smear pointing towards the mouth of the hall. Another, a messy trail of droplets culminating in a smudge against the far wall, just around a corner that would have sheltered the body from the open room. A final stain on the wall beside Hyun-su, deep gouges carved into the wall like puncture wounds, a long smear of blood stretching down to the floor.

Half-remembered things flickered through his brain like ghosts. Ui-myeoung with his gun raised, shooting into the crowd. Eun-yu’s scream. Mr. An’s voice, soft and wavering, interwoven with Yu-ri’s, sharp and frightened. Flames circling the edges of the room, crackling and spitting and burning burning burning.

Focus, snapped the monster. Hyun-su twitched and shook the memory of flames from his head. Ui-myeoung fired into the crowd twice: once while we were in the room and once after our fight. How many people did he hit?

“Two,” Hyun-su said, not really knowing where the answer came from. “Or, only two that died. Du-sik wasn’t shot.”

The image wouldn’t leave his mind. Du-sik slumped against the wall, a trail of blood running down his chin, the front of his jacket a torn and bloody mess. The exit wounds Hyun-su had seen on his back as his body was dragged away. Even the memory of it made him shiver.

So, what? He shot the other two, stabbed Du-sik like he did to us?

“It doesn’t make sense,” Hyun-su murmured. His fingers brushed his sternum. “Why would he stab him so many times? Once would have been more than enough to kill a human. Besides, the timeline doesn’t add up. Ui-myeoung was already—”

Hyun-su’s blood went cold.

His voice caught in his throat, but it was too late. He knew what he was going to say, the word already half-formed on his tongue.

How did he know? How could he know? The whole thing was a blank space in his memory, a missing piece he kept tracing around the edges of. Ui-myeoung had to be dead, or they wouldn’t all still be alive, but how had he—

Hyun-su’s eyes landed on the fourth stain.

It wasn’t hidden, not really. The scorch marks on the walls and floor helped camouflage it, but it still stood out, a startlingly dark patch among the chaos. Hyun-su couldn’t even really identify it past a scorched and melted mess of something, hardened into a pile of charcoal on the floor.

Piercing flesh. Sizzling blood. Chitinous feathers rattling like blades. Ui-myeoung’s smile as his flesh blackened around the feather impaling his hand to his eye.

Welcome to godhood, Hyun-su.

Hyun-su was hurled back to the present with the force of a freight train. He stumbled, scrabbling blindly for a handhold on the wall.

Fuck, the monster said. Its voice shook. What was that?

“We killed him,” Hyun-su breathed. Horror rose up in his throat like bile. “We turned.”

No, the monster insisted. No, we couldn’t have. We’re still here.

“What else would you call it?” Hyun-su demanded shrilly. His scar itched like those horrible feathers still lingered under his skin; he clamped a hand over his arm, as if that would do anything to hold them back. The thought made him want to vomit. “We killed someone!”

It was Ui-myeoung, the monster snapped. We had to kill him, or he would have killed everyone. Quit losing your shit, it’s not like we killed—

Sangwook, his shoulders squared and jaw clenched, a barely-there spark of fear in his eyes. Eun-yu, her knuckles white around Ji-su’s wrist, terror and hope clashing on her face. Du-sik’s arms drawn tight around his shoulders.

Come on, kid. Prove me right.

It’s still Hyun-su!

It’s okay. It’s not your fault.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Hyun-su hardly had time for the horror to set in before the monster seized control and slammed his fist through the drywall.

“FUCK!” it roared.

No, Hyun-su said weakly. No, no, no. Oh, god, what did we do?

“SHIT!” The monster grabbed the nearest crate and hurled it across the room with a resounding crash. “We fucking killed him! We killed Du-sik! After everything he did for us, we—” it snarled something deep and guttural, clawing its fingers into the hole in the wall and ripping out a huge chunk of plaster. “FUCK!”

We have to be missing something, Hyun-su tried. I—you—we would never hurt him. We can’t have—

“WE DID!” the monster howled. “We—” It trailed off, crumpling to the floor and burying its hands in its hair. “Fuck.”

As much as Hyun-su wanted to fight it, as much as every bone in his body screamed that this couldn’t be right, he knew it was true. He remembered being that soulless, animalistic thing, unconcerned with human trivialities like love or hate, caring only for the thrill of the hunt. That thing that had killed Ui-myeoung with the same sick satisfaction as a child ripping the legs off a spider, impaling him on its feathers and watching as he burned. That thing that had looked at his friends, his family, and seen not the people he loved, but prey. Something to hunt, to kill. Worst of all, he remembered how invigorating it had been to take a life. If it had only been Ui-myeoung, the memory would be disturbing, but with Du-sik, it was agonizing. It made him want to scream and throw up and tear off his skin all at once, remembering the smell of burning flesh, the feeling of Du-sik’s blood on his feathers, the throb of his heart pulsing slower and slower—

Hyun-su’s eyes caught on a broken metal pipe, the sharp edges glinting in the reddish glow of the setting sun. In a split second, he had it in his hand, the jagged edge poised over the scar on his arm. His muscles locked up a heartbeat before he could plunge it down.

What the fuck do you think you’re doing!? The monster demanded.

“I deserve it,” Hyun-su sobbed. The pipe in his hand trembled. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring it any closer, the end hanging infuriatingly an inch above his skin. His throat felt so tight it was hard to speak. “I was supposed to protect him. I was supposed to protect all of them, and instead I—I—”

You what? the monster snapped. You killed him, so now you’re gonna kill yourself? You’re gonna drag me down with you?

“You’re me,” Hyun-su said. He didn’t believe it for a second.

How sure are you about that? Sure enough to risk killing another person? Was Du-sik not enough?

Hyun-su’s jaw dropped; the betrayal hurt, the wound still far too fresh. The monster seized the opportunity to fling the pipe out of his hand. Hyun-su cried out, lurching after it, but the monster yanked him back.

You don’t get to kill yourself! it snarled. You don’t get to give up that easily! Don’t you fucking dare try that shit again!

“You think anything about this is easy?!” Hyun-su cried. “Look at what we did! We’re too dangerous! If it wasn’t for me, Du-sik would still be—”

Don’t start that shit, the monster snapped. Without you, Du-sik wouldn’t have even made it past the 14^th floor. He never would have made it down here with the other survivors, and he never would have lived as long as he did. So don’t you dare disrespect his memory by killing yourself. That’s not what he would want, and you fucking know it.

Hyun-su collapsed to the floor, curling up on his side, defeated tears streaming down his face.

“I hate you,” he sobbed. “I hate you.”

I know, the monster said. Something in its voice held a sadness deeper than he could imagine.

.

.

.

He didn’t know how long he spent laying there, tears trailing over the bridge of his nose, shivering in the winter air. When he finally dragged himself into a sitting position, only a sliver of sun still peeked over the horizon, casting the room in dim light.

He had to leave; that much he was certain of. What other options were there? What if next time it was Sangwook, or Eun-yu, or one of the kids that stumbled into his warpath? He could hardly bear the weight of Du-sik’s death; if one of them died because of him, he really would kill himself, monster be damned. He had to leave; the only question was how.

Should he say goodbye? Would it hurt too much if he did? Would he be able to live with himself if he didn’t? He couldn’t stand the thought of Eun-yu’s face if he told her, pain and grief slipping out from behind the thin veil of rage. She’d curse him with tears in her eyes, call him selfish, do anything except beg him to stay; she was too proud for that. And Sangwook, if he found out, would drag him inside by the scruff of his neck and never let him out of his sight again. Sure, Hyun-su could overpower him, but it would be all too easy to slip up, to let out a little too much of that unnatural strength and hurt him by mistake.

And what was worse, he didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to venture off into the cold and dark, away from Eun-yu’s playful jabs and Sangwook’s tough love, Jaehyun’s subtle sarcasm and Ji-su’s unspoken understanding, Yu-ri’s exasperated fondness and the kids’ innocent joy. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life running from monsters and fighting for scraps. He definitely didn’t want to spend however many days he had left as a lab rat, hoping against all hope that they could extract a cure from him. But whether he turned himself in or didn’t, whether he wanted to or not, he had to leave. Like so many other things in his life, he had no choice. The world kept turning, time rolled on, fate took its toll and dragged him along with it.

He should just go, he decided, standing. It would hurt less for everyone involved if he just slipped out quietly, never to be seen again. His friends would be sad, they’d wonder why he didn’t say goodbye, but they’d move on. They wouldn’t be haunted by the memory of his face as he left, and he wouldn’t be haunted by theirs. It was better that way. But he had to do it now, before he lost the nerve. He lifted one foot over the threshold—

“You’re not seriously thinking about leaving, are you?” Eun-yu asked.

Hyun-su froze in his tracks. He let out the quietest sigh.

Shit.

“I have to,” he said, his voice carefully blank. “I’m dangerous.” Against his better judgement, he glanced back. Eun-yu stood at the mouth of the hall, jacket zipped all the way up, hands tucked under her arms to fend off the cold. A frown creased her face, half anger and half confusion, but Hyun-su didn’t miss the faint line in her brow that spelled anxiety in big, glaring letters.

“That’s always been true,” she said.

Hyun-su shook his head. “Not like this.”

“You’re being an idiot,” Eun-yu snapped. Her voice wobbled. “We’re not leaving you behind. Du-sik’s death wasn’t your fault.”

“Whose was it, then?” Hyun-su asked.

Eun-yu looked away to swipe the tears from her eyes. “Ui-myeoung’s, obviously.”

“He was already dead.”

“He was the reason you turned,” Eun-yu said. “He put you in that position. We’re not going to burn you at the stake for something he did.”

“What does it matter how it happened?” Hyun-su asked bitterly. “I killed Du-sik. I could’ve killed all of you. You should be terrified of me.”

“Don’t fucking tell me how I should feel,” Eun-yu snapped. “You want to know how I feel? I’m sad about Du-sik, I’m worried about the future, and I’m pissed that you’re using this as an excuse to give up on yourself!” She threw up her hands. “And you know what? I am scared! Seeing you turn into that thing, it scared the piss out of me. But what scares me more is that your guilt is going to eat you alive, and I won’t be able to stop it. So the last thing I’m going to do is let you run off into the middle of fucking nowhere and get yourself fucking killed!”

Hyun-su’s eyes flickered black. “You can’t stop me.”

“Oh, you think so?” Eun-yu scoffed, crossing her arms. “Then how about this? If you leave, so do I. Good luck trying to stop me while you’re still terrified you’ll snap me in half if you so much as touch me.”

Hyun-su winced. God, was it that obvious?

“I could outpace you,” the monster said.

Eun-yu smirked. “But then you’d be leaving me alone out in the open, with monsters everywhere. And I know you like me too much to let that happen.”

“I’ll get someone else to stop you from leaving. Sangwook, maybe.”

Eun-yu barked a harsh laugh. “You think Sangwook’s gonna let you leave? The only reason he’s not here is ‘cause he’s busy chewing out anyone who even looks like they want to leave you behind. Face it, you aren’t going anywhere without us.”

The monster grumbled under its breath and looked away, avoiding her gaze. She didn’t let it, moving to remain in his line of sight, sharp eyes piercing straight through the black into Hyun-su’s soul.

“Don’t hide behind him, Hyun-su,” she said. “If you’re going to leave me behind, at least have the balls to look me in the eyes while you do it.”

The black in Hyun-su’s eyes faded. Despite the frisson of anxiety it sent crackling through his veins, he couldn’t bring himself to look away, all his shields crumbling under her gaze.

“We can’t just go back to the way things were,” he said, the words hardly more than a whisper.

“We don’t have to,” Eun-yu replied. She took a step forward; he took a step back.

“You should stay away from me,” he said. “I’m dangerous.”

A trace of a smile quirked her lips. “Since when have I ever done what I should?” She took another step; he stepped back again. Her expression sobered. “Don’t run from me, Hyun-su.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.

“You won’t.”

“I will. Look what I did to Du-sik.”

“You won’t,” Eun-yu repeated. “Trust me, Hyun-su. I’m not afraid of you.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” Hyun-su said. Du-sik’s face flashed through his mind, blood running down his chin; he winced.

“It was an accident. A terrible, awful accident. But it doesn’t have to define you.” Eun-yu took another slow, careful step. “I know it wasn’t what you wanted, but Du-sik gave his life to bring you back. That’s how much he cared about you, how important you were to him. You’re important to me too, Hyun-su.”

His feet were frozen to the ground. He fought back every instinct telling him to flee as she slowly approached, keeping her hands open and visible like he was a stray dog she didn’t want to scare off.

“If his death has to have a meaning,” she said, “let it be that. That you’re important to someone. That we care about you, and we want you here with us.” She reached out, her palm upturned, waiting for him to close the gap. “Don’t throw that away.”

The silence seemed to stretch on forever, the two locked in a stalemate, air fraught with anticipation. Hyun-su, his shoulders hunched, staring at her outstretched hand like it would either doom him or save him, a maelstrom of unnamed emotions clashing in his chest. Eun-yu, her stance open, hand offered, hope a fragile tower wavering behind her eyes. Behind them, the sun sank below the horizon, leaving nothing but the chill of winter and the cold light of the moon.

And shrouded in the soft half-light, the shadows rendering his features too blurry and faded to read, Hyun-su reached out and took her hand. 

Chapter Text

Jaehyun found her in a little-used corner of the daycare, curled up on the windowsill with her head against the cold glass.

“Hye-in told me you missed mealtime today,” he said. Yu-ri didn’t reply, eyes fixed on the gentle fall of snow outside. Jaehyun pulled a chair up to the window and sat. He produced a riceball wrapped in a napkin from the pocket of his coat and held it out to her; she made no move to take it. “Yu-ri, please. You know he wouldn’t want you to starve yourself.”

“Don’t tell me what he would want,” Yu-ri snapped, rounding on him. “You didn’t know him. None of you knew him like I did.” Jaehyun said nothing, just waited patiently; Yu-ri deflated. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Jaehyun said. “You’re grieving. We all are. And you’re right, none of us knew Gil-seob as well as you. But I know he didn’t sacrifice his life just so you could waste away.” He offered the riceball again. “So please, eat something. Things are bad enough already.”

A flicker of guilt crossed Yu-ri’s face. She uncurled just enough to take the riceball, then sat back against the windowsill and picked at it morosely. Jaehyun waited until she’d gotten through about half of it before he spoke again.

“Some say it helps to talk about it,” he said.

Yu-ri huffed a bitter laugh. “If you want to know what’s going on in my head, you’ll need a better bribe than a riceball.”

“That wasn’t the bribe.” Jaehyun pulled a bottle of soju from his other pocket. “This is.” He gave the bottle a quick twirl, the liquid inside spinning into a tornado. Yu-ri cracked a smile. “I would have invited Sangwook too, if he wasn’t so busy trying to keep that kid of his alive.” Jaehyun held out the bottle. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to open it; I don’t have the hands.”

“So we’re making jokes about it now?” Yu-ri asked, taking the bottle and cracking it open. “Seems a little early.”

Jaehyun shrugged, then winced as the motion tugged at freshly-replaced stitches. “I’ve been lucky, all things considered. I should be thanking God all I lost was an arm.” He drew two stacked paper cups from his pocket and struggled to separate them with one hand; Yu-ri took pity on him and did it herself.

“You still believe in God, after everything that’s happened?” she asked.

“I have to. Otherwise all this—” Jaehyun gestured vaguely around them— “would crush me.”

Yu-ri wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she didn’t, pouring out the shots. She picked hers up and stared into it for a long moment.

“What’s your opinion?” she asked. “About the whole thing with Hyun-su.”

Jaehyun sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. She’d never seen him so worn down, shoulders bowed with the weight of it.

“I think there are definitely risks to keeping him around,” Jaehyun said carefully, “but I can’t reconcile the thought of leaving him behind. He’s just a kid; it seems cruel to make him face this alone. I think whatever we decide, we can’t let fear rule our actions.”

“With what happened to Du-sik, I think we’d be hard pressed to think of anything else,” Yu-ri said. She turned the cup in her hands in idle circles. “I feel awful about it, but… part of me is glad it was Du-sik he killed and not Gil-seob. Is that wrong?”

“I think it’s a natural way to feel,” Jaehyun said. “Gil-seob’s death is hard enough already. If it had been at Hyun-su’s hands, it would be even worse.” Grief dulled his voice; Yu-ri glanced up to find him staring into his cup like it held the answers to the universe.

“I’m sorry,” Yu-ri said. “About Du-sik. I didn’t know him as well as you did, but… he was a good person. Kind. I’ll miss him.”

“So will I,” Jaehyun sighed. “I’m sorry about Gil-seob, too.”

They lapsed into silence once again.

“Do you think he was happy?” Yu-ri blurted. “Gil-seob, I mean. Do you think he was satisfied with his life? With the way he died?”

The pause before Jaehyun answered seemed to stretch on forever.

“I think…” he began, as carefully as if treading on broken glass, “I think he did his best to live his life to the fullest, and that he wasn’t one to pass up opportunity. I think he wanted to die while he was still human, before the infection could take hold. I think he may not have been ready to die, but he was okay with how he went. He got to die as himself, saving someone he loved; that’s about as good a death as any of us can ask for.”

Yu-ri sniffed and swiped at her eyes, nodding. She downed her shot, poured herself another, and downed that one too.

Jaehyun blinked. “Oh, okay. I was going to suggest a toast to Gil-seob’s memory, but I guess that works too.”

“This is more fitting,” Yu-ri rasped through the alcohol’s lingering burn. “He was a real party animal in his youth. He used to tell me all kinds of stories about it.”

“I’d love to hear some of them,” Jaehyun said. Yu-ri’s eyes glistened, and after a brief silence, she began to speak.

~ ~ ~

“I’m not cold,” Hyun-su said as Sangwook wrapped another blanket around his shoulders.

“Well, you fucking should be, so either you’ve got hypothermia or this is some monster thing we don’t know about,” said Sangwook. “Either way, you’re not freezing to death on my watch.”

“He probably wouldn’t even die,” Eun-yu commented, huddled up against Hyun-su’s side under an equal number of blankets. “He’d just go into hibernation or something, like he did with the spider.”

“God, don’t remind me,” Sangwook muttered. He finished fussing with the blanket and crowded his way onto the bench on Hyun-su’s other side, ignoring his halfhearted grunt of protest. Gathered around the fire they’d started in an old metal barrel, the residents watched them warily; Sangwook glared down anyone who looked too long.

“I heard we’re sending Nam-il to scout out the tunnels,” Eun-yu said.

“Who?” Sangwook asked.

Eun-yu shot him a dry look. “The gangster. The annoying one with the gold tooth.”

“Oh, yeah. Where the fuck has he been this whole time?”

Eun-yu shrugged. “Probably cowering in a corner somewhere.”

“What are we sending him in there for?” Hyun-su asked.

“I dunno. To check for traps or something, I guess.”

“There won’t be traps,” Sangwook said, rolling his eyes. “More likely land mines or grenades.”

“That’s… grim.” Hyun-su shifted in his seat. “So we’re just sending him down there to die? That doesn’t seem right.”

“Don’t forget what they did, kid,” Sangwook said, his voice darkening. “Someone has to make sure those tunnels aren’t rigged to blow. Better him than one of us.”

“I’m not saying he’s not a terrible person,” Hyun-su insisted. “He definitely is. But does he deserve to die for it?”

Yes, said the monster.

Not asking you, Hyun-su shot back. Out loud: “Maybe… maybe I should have gone. At least I’d survive, probably.”

“No,” Sangwook shut him down instantly.

“Seriously, can you stop being self-sacrificing for one minute?” Eun-yu added.

“But—”

“NO,” they both snapped.

Hyun-su made a wordless sound of frustration but let the subject drop, slumping back in his seat. For a while, only the crackle of flames and the survivors’ muttered conversations broke the silence. Snow flurries whirled on gusts of wind past the gaps in the walls, bright flickers against the dark of night.

“It’s really happening, huh?” Eun-yu said, a touch sadly. “We’re really leaving this place.”

“We’d better be, or I helped pack up all those supplies for nothing,” Sangwook grumbled. Said supplies lay around the room at the survivors’ feet, every bag or backpack they could find stuffed to the brim with blankets, spare clothes, water, and nonperishable food.

Eun-yu reached around Hyun-su to jab Sangwook in the ribs. “Shut up, I’m being serious. Doesn’t it feel… I don’t know, weird?”

“I know what you mean,” Hyun-su said. “Things were starting to feel… not normal, but regular, I guess. For a while, it kind of seemed like we’d be here forever.”

Sangwook grunted. “Too cold now. Even if we had enough food and water, we’d need to find better shelter before people start to get sick.”

Eun-yu scoffed. “Don’t see how it’ll be much better out—”

Hyun-su grabbed her arm, halting her mid-sentence. His gaze snapped upwards before he even really knew what he was looking for, laser-focused in like an owl listening for a mouse under the snow.

“Hyun-su?” Eun-yu asked. Hyun-su shushed her, straining to hear past the crackle of flames. The survivors’ muttered conversation died down as they picked up on his unease, a dozen pairs of eyes following his as he scanned the ceiling.

“Do you hear that?” he whispered.

“Hear what?” Sangwook asked, then bristled when Hyun-su shushed him. The room went eerily quiet, the survivors seeming to hold their breath, only the rustle of clothes and the crackle of the campfire breaking the silence. That’s when he heard it again; the distant thrum of rotor blades, slowly growing closer. From the way Yi-kyung sat up from her post at the outermost wall, grip tightening around her pistol, she heard it too.

“Helicopters,” she murmured. “They’re coming.”

“The military?” Ji-su asked, reaching for her bat. “But Ui-myeoung destroyed the tracker.”

“It must have been active long enough for them to get a fix on our position,” Yi-kyung said. “They’ll have units on the road too, not just in the air. They could be here any minute.” Nervous mutters rippled throughout the room.

“So what do we do?” Hye-in asked, uncharacteristically subdued. All eyes turned to Eun-hyeok. For a long moment, he said nothing, fingers steepled in front of his face.

“…We have a decision to make,” he said finally.

Sangwook shot to his feet. “Don’t you fucking say it.”

“Are you serious?” Jae-hwan demanded. “This may be our only chance to be saved! We can't just throw it away for the likes of him!” He pointed to Hyun-su, whose stomach dropped into his shoes.

“Oh, that’s fucking it!” Sangwook lunged for Jae-hwan, who scrambled back with a yelp.

“Sangwook!” Jaehyun surged up to block him. “Stop, this is no time to be fighting!”

“He’s right,” Ji-su said, stepping between the pair as well. She fixed Jae-hwan with a cutting glare. “And you, shut the fuck up. We’re not turning anyone over, and we’re not leaving anyone behind.”

“We’re out of options,” Yi-kyung said. “We can’t outrun them, even if we had a working vehicle. They’ll outnumber us ten to one, maybe more. We need to be realistic here.”

“Shut up!” Sangwook snarled. “Don’t you even start! I don’t give a fuck if you’re special forces, you come anywhere near him and I’ll kick your fucking ass!”

“Sangwook,” Hyun-su said. He didn’t speak loudly, but the whole room quieted at the sound of his voice. “She’s right. I can’t put all of you in danger.”

“You’re not the one who put us in danger,” Yu-ri said, a dangerous undercurrent to her voice. She glared at Jae-hwan. “He is.”

“It doesn’t matter how we got here,” Eun-hyeok broke in. “We can assign blame later; right now, we need a plan.”

“Throwing Hyun-su under the bus is not a plan!” Eun-yu snapped.

We should have just fucking left, the monster fumed as the argument rolled on, building into a cacophony of raised voices. Now look at the mess we’re in!

“Well, I’m sorry, I would have if not for—” Hyun-su cut himself off, remembering belatedly that Eun-yu was sitting right next to him. Everyone else seemed too preoccupied with the dispute at hand to pay him any attention, Jaehyun and Ji-su holding Sangwook back from lunging at either Jae-hwan or Yi-kyung, Eun-hyeok shouting for order, the other survivors interjecting with their own arguments and opinions. All the while, the rising panic at the back of Hyun-su’s mind rattled the bars of its cage, refusing to be buried, feeding on the chaos and growing. It was too much, too loud, too many variables and too little time; he didn’t know what to do.

The deep shutter of spotlights plunged the room into silence. Bright, harsh light cut through the night, shining through the gaps in the walls. The thrum of helicopter blades rang so close Hyun-su could feel the vibrations under his feet. Dozens of pairs of boots crunched in the snow.

“We have you surrounded,” boomed a voice on loudspeaker. “Surrender the infected immediately. Survivors will be transferred to a safety camp.” The message repeated as the residents exchanged panicked glances.

“What are we waiting for?” Jae-hwan demanded. “It’s his life for all of ours! There shouldn’t even be a question!”

“Watch it!” Sangwook warned, just as Eun-yu snapped “Shut it, asshole!”

“It’s not that simple,” Yi-kyung said. “This is a delicate situation, one that we need to navigate carefully. One wrong move and they could open fire. Even if we do turn Hyun-su over, we need to negotiate and ensure our safety first.”

“They said immediately!” Jae-hwan argued.

“They also said ‘survivors,’” Ji-su interjected. “As in anyone who’s left after they decide they’re done shooting. So unless you want to get us all killed, you’d better sit down and shut the fuck up.” She turned to Eun-hyeok. “We’re out of time. What are our options?”

Before Eun-hyeok could respond, a thunderous explosion shook the very foundation of the building. People screamed and cowered as dust rained from the ceiling and objects fell from countertops. Shouts of alarm sounded from the soldiers outside. A dozen floors above, something roared so loud the walls shivered.

“What the fuck was that?” Sangwook hissed. Hyun-su locked eyes with Eun-yu, seeing his own dread and recognition reflected in her face.

There was no time to think before the shooting started. Bullet holes peppered the drywall, the screams of the survivors overlapping with the deafening rapport of gunfire.

“The tunnel!” Eun-hyeok shouted, barely audible over the commotion. “Get to the tunnel!”

The only path forward was through the lobby, the outer walls half-collapsed and crumbling further under the military’s barrage. Bullets cracked concrete and pinged off the sides of the gangsters’ stolen van as the survivors bolted across the room, arms shielding their heads, nothing but dumb luck and a prayer to protect them. Hyun-su shielded Eun-yu with his body as he ran, pushing her ahead the moment they were clear of the gap. He caught a glimpse of Sangwook just as he picked up Yeoung-su and made a mad dash across the lobby; Hyun-su braced against a pillar and kicked a large crate out towards the front in hopes of giving them some cover. He kept it up, clearing obstacles from the path and throwing them towards the outer walls until the last of the survivors had made it through. He was just about to follow them down the hall when a huge, dark shape plunged down through the ceiling in a spray of rubble, crushing the stolen military van under its weight. Hyun-su swore and ducked, arms coming up to shield his head.

A long, sinewy tail sliced whip-like through the air, huge black claws unhooking from the ruined hood of the van, yellow eyes flashing through the dust-filled air. Uncurling to her full height, the spines on her back bristling and clattering in a fearsome display, Queenie stared down the waiting army and roared. The sound ripped through the night, rattling the teeth in Hyun-su’s skull, shaking snow from the rafters, blood and death and fury all wrapped into a harrowing howl of war. It called to something within him, that terrible, bloodthirsty thing in his chest rearing to life. It took everything he had to hold onto it, to keep it from bursting free and heeding the call to battle.

Queenie spared one last glance at Hyun-su, those striking yellow eyes meeting his. Then, before the echoes of her call had even faded, she plunged out into the night like the reaper coming to take her toll. Her claws sunk into a mounted turret, her weight driving it halfway into the ground, before leaping from the ruined platform and descending upon the ranks below. Shouts sounded as the foot soldiers opened fire; Queenie swiped them away like flies, tearing through flesh and armor as easily as tissue paper, blood spraying in arcs against the snow. Her claws sank into a man’s leg and dragged him towards her, her jaws snapping closed around his shoulder. With a vicious shake of her head, she ripped him clear in half at the waist, flung his torso into the crowd, and lunged for her next victim. Screams broke the air as she bounded towards the next turret, bodies flying in her wake. Hyun-su couldn’t tear his eyes away from the gruesome scene, his feet glued to the floor, the beast in his chest howling for blood.  

“Fuck,” he breathed.

~ ~ ~

Eun-yu made it deep enough into the tunnels that the sounds of gunfire began to fade before she realized Hyun-su was no longer with her. She swore, glancing first up the line ahead of her, then back towards the entrance, stepping to the side as the others rushed by. None of the faces that passed her were Hyun-su’s. And where the fuck was Sangwook? She’d lost track of him early in the chaos, but she’d been certain he was somewhere behind her. The last of the survivors passed by, their panicked voices fading down the tunnel. Fear and resolve crystallizing in her chest, she lunged back towards the entrance.

Eun-hyeok appeared as if from nowhere and caught her by the arm.

“Where are you going?” he asked. Eun-yu almost wanted to snap at him, but there was no demand in his voice, only concern and controlled panic. 

“Hyun-su’s not here,” she said, unable to stop her voice from shaking. “Neither is Sangwook.”

Eun-hyeok turned back the way they came with a muttered curse. “I’ll go get them.”

Terror surged in Eun-yu’s chest. She grabbed his hand before he could pull away; he glanced back with confusion written into every line of his face.

“Don’t,” she blurted. It was the only word she could get out, the rest trapped behind a dam of all-consuming dread. Don’t go. Don’t leave me. I can’t lose you too. She knew just from the look in his eyes that he could read it all on her face, his expression softening.

“I’ll come back,” he said gently. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll come back safely.”

“You promise?” Eun-yu asked, voice smaller than it had been in years.

Despite it all, Eun-hyeok smiled. “I promise.”

Off in the distance, gunfire cracked. The thing that was once a woman roared. Pushing down every instinct that told her otherwise, to cling to him like a little kid and never let go, Eun-yu let his hand slip out of her grasp. Eun-hyeok held her gaze a moment longer, then dashed back down the tunnel.

“Be safe,” Eun-yu whispered to the empty air. “Come back. You have to.”

~ ~ ~

Sangwook had lost them. He’d fucking lost them both, gotten swept away in the chaos, and now he didn’t know if they were waiting for him down in the tunnels or trapped somewhere in the complex, in need of his help. The only thing he knew is that he didn’t have time to search, not without any clue as to where they could be, and if he went into that tunnel while one or both were still outside, the building could collapse before he found them. He paced in front of the trapdoor, indecision tearing him in either direction, painfully aware that every second he spent deliberating was a second wasted.

Eun-hyeok’s face appearing at the top of the ladder startled him so badly he nearly tripped over his own feet. Eun-hyeok jerked back in surprise and narrowly avoided falling back into the tunnel.

“Hyun-su and Eun-yu,” Sangwook blurted. “Are they down there?”

“Eun-yu is,” Eun-hyeok said, visibly reeling. “Hyun-su is still missing.”

Sangwook swore and bolted back the way they’d come.

.

.

.

When Sangwook found him, Hyun-su was standing at the mouth of the lobby, staring out at the falling snow caught in the rays of the searchlights. It was eerily quiet, the street outside a churned mess of blood and soil and snow, no soldiers in sight other than the mangled remains of dozens of bodies. And yet Hyun-su appeared completely human, not a speck of blood on him.

“Kid, what are you doing up here?” Sangwook asked. “We have to go.”

“Can you hear it?” Hyun-su said. Muzzle flares flashed and gunshots rang out in the distance. Something roared and soldiers shouted, too far away to make out the words. “She’s out there. Leading them away from her territory. She’s smart.” He smiled sadly. “But it won’t work forever. They’ll send reinforcements, and she won’t back down. She’s not the type. Eventually, they’ll kill her, and then they’ll come for me.” He glanced over his shoulder at Sangwook, unbearable kindness in his eyes. “I can’t just leave her to die.”

“Kid, that’s a monster,” Sangwook said.

“So?” Hyun-su turned back to the opening. “You don’t know her. She’s kind, and intelligent, and she’s my friend. Just because she’s a monster doesn’t mean her life doesn’t matter.”

“Not more than yours,” Sangwook insisted. “Come with us. Eun-yu is waiting for you.”

Hyun-su’s shoulders stiffened, and what Sangwook could see of his face hardened. His voice turned cold. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Sangwook.”

“Why does it have to be hard? It’s not too late for us to escape. You don’t have to give yourself up.”

“You don’t get it,” snapped the monster, whipping around to fix Sangwook with its harsh black stare. “They will never stop looking for us. As long as he’s with you, you’ll always be in danger.”

“We can handle it,” Sangwook tried. “We’ve survived this long.”

“Not all of us.”  The monster turned away. “Stop being so stubborn, Sangwook. He’s giving up everything for you.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Sangwook blurted, panic building. “You don’t have to, Hyun-su.”

The monster laughed darkly. “Oh, yes he does. And don’t start blaming this on me, because I tried to talk him out of it. But he knows what he needs to do, so don’t you dare waste his sacrifice. You get back in that bunker, you look after Eun-yu, and you survive. No matter what happens, you survive. Or he’s throwing away his life for nothing.”

Sangwook hated it. He hated it more than he’d hated anything in his life, but god dammit, the kid wasn’t wrong. They couldn’t run forever, and they couldn’t keep him hidden among them; the secret would get out, and when the military found out they’d been lying to them, who knew what the consequences would be. And Sangwook knew that look on Hyun-su’s face, the set to his shoulders that said he wasn’t going to let this go. After everything, after all the ‘last options’ they’d managed to slip past so far, this one really was unavoidable. And Sangwook, human as he was, could do nothing about it.

Reluctantly, he took a step back. It felt like ripping out a piece of him, despair echoing in the hollow space behind his ribs.

“Don’t you dare go down without a fight,” he said. Hyun-su’s back remained turned, but his head tilted. “You hear me? They don’t get to have you for free. If they want you, it had better cost them just as much as it’s costing you. Make it hurt.”

The monster turned its head just enough for Sangwook to see the razor-edged smile spreading across its face. “Oh, I will.”

The walls shook dangerously, metal and timber groaning as if the very building was crying out. Sangwook turned and bolted down the hall, emotions he couldn’t name swirling like a hurricane in his chest, a sort of half-formed panic managing to rear its head before he shoved it down viciously. He could deal with it all later; right now, he needed to survive.

The door to the office hung open, light spilling into the hall. Sangwook shouldn’t have stopped, he didn’t have time to dawdle, but something tugged at him, a gut feeling he couldn’t ignore. Inside, Eun-hyeok stood at the desk, cutting a harsh silhouette against the glow of the monitors.

“What are you still doing here?” Sangwook demanded. “I already found Hyun-su; he’s not coming.” It hurt to say the words, but Sangwook tamped down the reaction, refusing to let his voice waver.

Eun-hyeok took a beat too long to respond. “I’m… not here for him.”

Sangwook frowned. Then he saw the list of names in Eun-hyeok’s hand, the columns of Alive, Dead, and Infected, and something clicked.

“How long?” he asked.

The paper crinkled in Eun-hyeok’s grasp. “Eleven days.”

“There’s still time.”

Eun-hyeok shook his head. “Not for me.”

Sangwook didn’t know why he was trying; he didn’t even like the kid. Maybe it was because he was Eun-yu’s brother. Maybe it was because Sangwook knew Eun-yu would kill him if he didn’t at least try. Maybe it was because there was still a flicker of humanity within him, under all the pain and scarring.

“You sure you want to do this to Eun-yu?” he asked. “You know she’ll hate you for it.”

A tiny, bittersweet smile quirked Eun-hyeok’s lips. “That’s alright. As long as she’s alive.” He met Sangwook’s gaze with glistening eyes. “You should go. There’s not much time left.”

He was right, Sangwook thought, as the floor rumbled under his feet and dust rained from the ceiling. Whether he agreed with it or not, Eun-hyeok had already signed his own death warrant. And though the two of them had never really gotten along, had found themselves at each other’s throats more often than not, this was something Sangwook could respect. So despite how wrong it felt, Sangwook turned and ran for the tunnel, leaving Eun-hyeok to his self-written fate.

~ ~ ~

When Sangwook rounded the corner and barreled towards her, relief flooded Eun-yu’s veins. When neither Hyun-su nor Eun-hyeok followed, that relief was quickly replaced by dread.

“Where’s Hyun-su?” Eun-yu asked. Sangwook grabbed her arm and pulled her through the gate. “Sangwook! Where’s Hyun-su?!”

“He’s not coming,” Sangwook said.

“The fuck do you mean, he’s not coming?” Eun-yu demanded, yanking her arm out of his grasp. “We can’t just leave him up there! Did you even try to—”

“Of course I tried!” Sangwook snapped. Eun-yu recoiled. “Of course I did everything I fucking could to get him to come with us! God dammit, kid, you know I don’t want to leave him behind, you know I hate this just as much as you do, but he’s right about this and I don’t have time to explain why!”

Eun-yu had an argument on the tip of her tongue but lost it to a flood of panic as Yi-kyung began to close the gate behind them.

“Wait,” she blurted, surging forward to block the opening. “Eun-hyeok’s not back yet.”

Yi-kyung met her glistening eyes, her expression painfully gentle, and shook her head. The air in Eun-yu’s lungs went electric; the tears welled up before she could stop them.

“I can’t leave,” she said, her voice breaking. “He promised me he’d come back.”

“Kid…” Sangwook said. Something in his voice scared her so much more than the shaking of the walls, than the gunfire outside. Dread bubbled in her stomach, thick and clinging like tar.

When someone is so sure about a promise that’s nearly impossible to keep, said Eun-hyeok’s voice at the back of her mind, there’s a good chance it’ll end up being a lie.

Eun-yu’s breath caught in her throat.

Sangwook grabbed her arm just as she lunged through the gate.

“No!” she shrieked, digging in her heels. “No, Eun-hyeok! Eun-hyeok, you promised!” She pulled with all her might until Sangwook picked her up and carried her away. She wailed and beat at his arms, the gate clanging shut behind them. “No, let me go! Eun-hyeok! Eun-hyeok!”

“I’m sorry, kid,” Sangwook murmured. “I’m so sorry. He’s not coming back.”

~ ~ ~

With his sister’s headphones on, tinny music playing through the speakers, Eun-hyeok could almost pretend not to hear the cracking of gunshots and the roaring of the monster outside. The walls trembled as he flipped open the CD player and pulled out the photo inside; Eun-yu as a toddler, red-faced with angry tears, and him a child no older than eight, pulling silly faces to try and make her laugh. Their parents sat on either side of them, smiling and full of life. It seemed like a lifetime ago that they’d all been together, knitted together so tightly it seemed like they’d never unravel. Not perfect, never perfect, but happy. He remembered the day they’d adopted Eun-yu, how excited yet nervous his parents were, how ecstatic he'd been at the prospect of having a little sister. For years, they’d been inseparable; he’d carried her around everywhere as a baby, given her piggyback rides when she was ten and he’d just hit his growth spurt. Now, the threads between them had worn thin, turned frayed and brittle. He wondered when they’d lost that love, when they’d become strangers living under the same roof. Maybe it was when they’d lost their parents. Maybe it was set in motion even earlier, when he’d first left to go to med school. Maybe it was the years after, the burden of responsibility turning him bitter, too focused on keeping them afloat to show Eun-yu the love she’d needed.

He wondered if his parents would be proud of all he’d done for her, or if he’d let them down by not focusing on what really mattered. If he’d let her down. He wondered if he was letting her down right now, by doing this.

It was better this way, he thought, as the crash of rubble grew closer and the monitors fritzed out one by one, dust raining down around him. At least now he could be sure he wouldn’t hurt her when he turned. Part of him wanted to cling to the life he still had, to try to hold out like Hyun-su had and buy himself those few extra weeks, but he’d run the numbers. Hyun-su was an anomaly, an outlier that came about under a very specific set of circumstances, including some Eun-hyeok was sure he didn’t even know of. His monster side had arisen in the relative safety of the complex, shielded at least in part from the ever-present danger outside. Hyun-su’s monsterization had occurred under as close to controlled conditions as possible; Eun-hyeok’s would not. Leaving the complex introduced a whole host of new stressors, all of which might exacerbate his transformation in ways he couldn’t predict. He could snap under the pressure within a day; his carefully maintained control could break after watching someone die; he could make it all the way until their food supply ran out, then transform from his own starvation. It was too great a risk for too little chance of reward, and he wouldn’t put his sister’s life on the line for it.

She’d hate him for it, once she’d gotten past the worst of the mourning. It hurt to think about what it would do to her, how the choice he was making would haunt her, but he stood firm. Better that she be alive to hate him than dead at his hands. He had to believe that she’d survive this, that she’d be okay without him there to protect him. That she’d make it through the loss of both him and Hyun-su.

Eun-hyeok winced; he hadn’t really thought about that. About what it would mean for Eun-yu to lose her brother and her best friend in one fell swoop. It would have been easier if he’d been leaving Eun-yu with Hyun-su; he was strong, devoted, almost impossible to kill, and he’d proven himself to be trustworthy. But Eun-hyeok should have seen it coming, that Hyun-su would give himself up to keep them safe. It was exactly the kind of self-sacrificing behavior he’d come to expect from him.

At least Eun-yu would still have Sangwook. Sure, he wasn’t quite as unkillable as Hyun-su and Eun-hyeok personally wouldn’t trust the man with his life, but he was tough and fiercely loyal, and he clearly cared for Eun-yu. If there was one thing he could trust Sangwook with, it was that he’d keep Eun-yu safe or die trying.

Chunks of the ceiling rained down around him. Blood ran down his lip, pattering on the photo in his hands. Tears cut clean lines through the grime on his face, his throat so tight it was hard to breathe. If he tried hard enough, he could almost pretend it was from the dust in the air.

His eyes were still fixed on that photo, the slightest smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, when the room caved in around him.

~ ~ ~

So this is it, huh? said the monster.

“Guess so,” Hyun-su replied. He looked down at the scar on his arm, stark and red against skin gone pale from the cold. He could almost feel the feathers shifting beneath, the flames crawling at the edges of his brain, that bloodthirsty, animalistic thing prowling behind his ribs. A single snowflake landed on his arm and melted. “It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Not at all, said the monster. We had a pretty good go of it.

“Never really expected it to end like this,” Hyun-su admitted.

No. But as far as last stands go, this isn’t a bad one.

In the distance, Queenie roared. The beast in his chest perked up, longing to howl its answer.

“I don’t really hate you,” Hyun-su said. “You know that, right?”

I know, the monster said.

Hyun-su nodded to himself and stepped out into the snow. Behind him, the Green Home apartment complex collapsed in on itself, raining rubble onto the street. And as the closest thing he had to a home fell to pieces, Hyun-su turned his gaze inward, to the howling beast clawing at the inside of his ribcage, and set it free.