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Kang Seoyeon knew that she was selfish. It was an unfortunate trait she wasn't proud of, but was unable to stop indulging in. Lately, it had become her best sword and shield, as well as the reason she was all alone.
After Seoul's sudden evacuation, some—the stubborn, the ones with no other choice—had chosen to either stay, locked in the questionable safety of their homes, or move around inside the city in an attempt to avoid the infected.
Back then she had, too, as she had no other place to run off to, but now that she found herself alone, she had to admit that escaping from the concrete maze seemed like the best option.
Wandering through the many rows of houses, it was apparent that the previously crowded city had become an empty land. It was eerie and unnerving in an odd way; most houses had been looted by then, but a lot of them remained unchanged, frozen in time. Ironically, the lack of people didn't make her feel safe, but watched.
On the upside, less people also meant far less zombies; after all, no animal bothered to stay long in a place that had nothing left to hunt.
It was this same quietness that got her in trouble when she made more noise than she should have.
Her heart jumped all the way to her throat when the thing lunged at her faster than she could react and it was just out of sheer luck that she managed to turn around quick enough that its teeth missed her arm, even if its hands still got ahold of it.
In her sudden shock, her movements were slower than she would've wanted. However, a knife was a knife, and it still worked like a charm to stun the creature when she sank it deep into its arm. It gave her enough time to tug her own arm free.
It was then that several bullets flew past her, hitting nothing but air until one got lucky enough to turn the thing's head into a bloody mess that splashed all over her own. The smell was so strong it made her gag, bile burning its way up her throat but thankfully going back down just as fast. As the undead collapsed on top of her before sliding to the ground, she looked towards the direction the shots had come from.
No more than twenty meters away, a man in white stood behind a car, the gun in his hands still raised in her direction.
“Are you bitten?” The question came so suddenly that she was only able to stare at him for a few seconds. The man didn't lower his gun. “Did it bite you anywhere?”
“It didn't, I'm clean.” The sleeve of her jacket was pulled up in a haste and her arm raised with urgency, showing the uninjured skin as proof of her honesty. Only then did the stranger lower his weapon. “I swear it didn't.”
“Good.” He accepted after a beat. Visibly more relaxed, the man offered her an easy, sharp smile. Walking around the car he had been using as protection, he offered a hand. Up close, she thought he looked rather plain; black hair and eyes, nothing stood out on him. “I'm Kim Dokja. You don't see a lot of people around this side of Seoul anymore.” When it became obvious that she wouldn't shake his hand, he let it fall, his smile becoming a little tense around the edges. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
Kang Seoyeon felt a bit of her pride hurt; this was not her first brush with death, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Not that it even got any easier, not since she had to do it alone.
“I'm fine,” she spat, using a hand to try and clean a bit of the blood that had ended too close to her eyes. “It just took me by surprise, I wasn't being careful enough. I should thank you, really.”
“It's not like you could have seen it coming. There shouldn't be zombies in this neighborhood by now.” Well, he said that, but he still had a weapon with him, so Kang Seoyeon didn't find that so easy to believe.
“I guess we were both wrong.” She huffed, mood rightfully sour.
Deciding that she had to leave before Kim Dokja decided to ask her for anything as compensation, Kang Seoyeon hastly cleaned her hands against her trousers and made to turn away.
“Are you and your group just passing by?” Apparently, the man was unable to notice when a conversation was over. “The next city is not that far. Ten hours on foot should do it.”
She eyed him for a moment, as if debating how safe it was to give him that information. “I am passing by,” she confirmed. After a quick look at the gun still in the man's hand, she added. “I have relatives who are waiting for me in the next town.”
“Ah, I see.” He didn't seem to catch her lie. He nodded knowingly, as if he understood. “I'm actually staying in a house near here for a while. It's not permanent, but I'm not planning on leaving just now. You're welcome to come, if you need to rest.” He then deliberately looked at her hand, still dirty with the creature's blood. “Or clean up.”
Her first and immediate thought was to say no. Nobody in their right mind would call her paranoid for distrusting a strange, armed man offering help in the middle of the apocalypse. But she was also tired and covered in pungent, infected blood, hours away from any safe place. A resting place was a tempting idea and if this man wanted her dead, he wouldn't have had to pull the trigger to do so. If he wanted worse, she knew how to deal with his kind.
So, not long after, Kang Seoyeon was stepping inside a home that wasn't hers, her knife still gripped in her hand, hidden in her jacket's pocket.
The house wasn't the biggest in the block, but it was the one with the taller walls around it; no doubt the reason why it was picked.
As soon as Kim Dokja opened the door, she looked shamelessly; inside, it was a lot nicer, all high ceilings, neutral colors and tasteful decorations, the kind of house one has with the intention of pleasing guests.
She wondered if it was really his. Kim Dokja did not make her wait for an answer, he seemed happy enough to talk without being asked to.
“It's not my house,” he commented, sliding his shoes off and taking the jacket off his shoulders. “I don't know who it belonged to, but it's pretty safe and well equipped, so we've been using it for two months or so.”
“We?” she asked, voice suddenly weak with apprehension. Taking a risk with a kind stranger was one thing; now she wondered if she'd have to worry about a whole group of strangers. But Kim Dokja didn't seem worried himself, he answered with the easiness of someone with nothing to hide.
“Me and my companion,” he clarified, suddenly perking up slightly. His tone became brighter, his eyes soft with evident affection. He had been nice so far, but talking about this person smothered the remaining hard edges in his semblance. “But Yoo Joonghyuk is busy right now, so you'll get to meet him later.”
Ah. So that was it. Somehow, that made her feel a little relieved.
The leftover suspicion melted off her shoulders and she allowed herself to stare at the room she was in and really feel the comfort of a warm and secure shelter with a proper roof over her head. It was the simple things that could now be considered privileges that always got to her, like the softness of the couch she was led to sit on while Kim Dokja went for something to drink.
When he emerged from the kitchen he had two steaming cups of tea with him, one of which he set in front of her before sitting on one of the loveseats. “Have you been traveling alone all this time?”
“I used to be in a group,” she hummed after taking a sip. The tea did wonders to loosen her tongue. “My parents, my sister and some of our neighbors. We lost most people along the way; in hindsight, I think there were too many of us and we didn't get along on a lot of things. We made some stupid mistakes.” Some unforgivable mistakes. “Someone got bitten.”
Wishing not to continue with the conversation, she kept her mouth busy by taking short sips of her tea. Thankfully, her host didn't comment on her tale but when she raised her gaze, she found him quietly staring at his own beverage. On his face rested an unlucky smile, wide and close lipped; she found it rather uncanny, but comforting. He understood.
“I'm sorry to hear that,” he said, and she knew it was sincere. However, she couldn't offer anything but a shrug; it happened and there was nothing to do about it but hope it doesn't happen again.
“I'm alive, at the end of the day.” It was a pain to let the words out, but it was a truth she had to live by.
In her awkwardness, she eyed some of the books spread on the table.
“Those are some interesting titles,” she commented with raised eyebrows, as her thumb traced the word “necromancy” on the spine of a thick leather volume. The ones next to it weren't as bizarre; a few biology books and a magazine on modern medicine.
Kim Dokja looked over with a questioning humm, but quickly noted what she was talking about.
“Ah, those. I found them on the shelves; the owner of the house had some eccentric tastes,” Kim Dokja explained as soon as he saw her interest. “A bit creepy, maybe, but it's not the strangest thing I've seen in the house. It's also not off-topic, considering the circumstances.”
His words slowed to a stop but Kang Seoyun nodded in agreement anyway. When the world becomes something you can hardly understand, it's not unnatural to search for a reason, an explanation or a solution, even from the strangest sources.
She was in the process of opening one of the heavier books when Kim Dokja stood out and walked towards the kitchen, carrying both of their empty cups. He gazed at her over one of his shoulders.
“I don't mean to imply anything but if you need a bath, there’s a bathroom upstairs. I'm sure we have spare clothes if you want to wash yours.”
She was suddenly reminded of the fact that she was still covered in blood. Even before that, she hadn't been exactly clean; no one would be after traveling for days without access to running water. The truth was that she was in desperate need of a shower, and if Kim Dokja was offering his resources, she wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of it.
“That would be amazing,” she answered and it felt more like a ‘thank you’.
“When you are done, would you mind helping me make dinner?”
She would, actually. But after all the help he was giving her, she thought it would be ungrateful of her to refuse. And so she let him lead her towards the back of the house where the stairst started; apparently, the only shower was on the second floor.
In her curiosity, she couldn't help but notice the unusual mess on that side of the house; near a lone door, a chair lay on the ground with one leg broken, and next to it were the many pieces of a shattered base—that had most likely fallen from the small table in the hallway—its flowers and water still all over the hardwood floor and the wall where it had splashed.
Evidently, she wasn't being discreet enough with her staring because Kim Dokja soon followed her line of vision; his smile freezing on his face.
“Oh. That.” He hurried to explain. Kang Seoyeon didn't know the man well, but to her, he looked almost embarrassed. “I'm sorry about that, Yoo Joonghyuk dropped it this morning and I forgot to tidy up.”
Unable to find a better answer, she muttered a quiet “I see,” and walked her way to the bathroom.
However, it was clear to her that however that mess happened, it had been violent and intentional. She did not know Yoo Joonghyuk, but felt a bit relieved that the man wasn't home at the moment.
The water was nice and hot. She couldn't even remember the last time she had indulged in a shower as nice and had the privilege of wasting both time and water until it ran cold. She found herself smiling when she exited the bathroom, running her fingers through soft hair and feeling cleaner than she had in a long time as she wore the soft clothes Kim Dokja had left for her. Like the shampoo, they had a pleasant floral scent.
Kim Dokja was already worrying over a pot in the kitchen by the time she made her way downstairs. It seemed like he had begun cooking without her help.
If he was bothered by it, he didn't say it or show it. He smiled brightly at her when she got close and hurried to lower the flame before stepping back and turning to face her fully.
“I hope you feel better now.” He said rather absentmindedly. Drying his hands in a kitchen towel, he added: “Say, would you mind helping me get some ingredients? We ran out of some things but we keep more in the basement.”
The basement, as it turned out, was on the other side of the one door they had walked past before. Kim Dokja had apparently cleaned up while she was upstairs, because the hallway was now spotless and the chair nowhere to be seen.
They must be doing pretty well, she thought, if they had enough food to keep down in a basement. She tried to swallow her jealousy; it was not their fault she had struggled more than them. And Kim Dokja had been so nice to her so far, she wasn't so petty as to resent him for it.
“Ladies first,” the man in question interrupted her musings, opening the now unlocked door for her. The humid air hit her face first, making her scrunch her nose. She didn't think much of it and stepped ahead of him with the intention of walking down. Rather distracted, she looked down the stairs and immediately felt her blood freeze and plummet down to her feet.
Illuminated only by the warm light coming from the hallway behind her, the creature at the end of the basement's throat looked miserable; crouching low to the ground over something she couldn't distinguish. When its eyes—dark and empty—found hers, it let out a blood freezing screech that made goosebumps rise on her skin. It got up to get her; that made her move. With her heart like a ticking bomb, she shouted as she scrambled back, only to be stopped by Kim Dokja's chest.
Hurriedly she turned around and tried to push him out of the way; it was coming for her, it was going to kill them. Her mouth opened but no sound came out; she wanted to warn him: they had to get out of there.
Kim Dokja's hands were cold when they pressed on her shoulders. She looked up to the emptiest eyes she had ever seen. Suddenly, she could speak.
“Wha-? What the fuck is that?!” She gasped, hands reaching for the arms holding her in pleace. She kept trying to look behind her; the zombie had not stopped its screaming, but it didn't seem to be getting any closer. “That's a zombie. It's a zombie. Kim Dokja, we have to get out of here. Close the door.”
Kim Dokja wasn't bothered by her panic. In fact, he was the calmest she had seen him so far; with a face that would make any poker player green with jealousy, he stared her down and spoke with the tone of someone asked about the weather.
“That's just Yoo Joonghyuk.”
“Y-Yoo Joonghyuk?” It took a second for it to click, for her brain to link that name to Kim Dokja's absent companion. “That's Yoo Joonghyuk?!” She choked out, words pushed by the bile she could feel making its way up her throat. With eyes wide open, she looked at Kim Dokja in disbelief. “Are you crazy?! Why would you have that thing in there? That's a zombie!”
Kim Dokja just smiled at her, small and helplessly, as if she were an especially stupid small child.
It made a shiver run down her spine.
She felt as if she had swallowed a ton of lead as realization came to her. This guy was nuts, he was keeping a corpse in his basement and wouldn't let her leave. It was clear she was neve a guest, but prey to be tossed to the thing down there. Immediately, she tried to calm down.
“Alright.” She said with trembling lips. The grip on her shoulders didn't lessen even when her fingernails sunk into his skin. “I don't want to go to the basement anymore. I'll go get my things I have to leave soon.” she breathed out, almost pleading. Maybe she could make it, maybe he was gone enough to let her go if she played along. “Move aside.” But he didn't, so she tried to shove him back with no success. “I have people expecting me, Kim Dokja, I have to go. Move!”
“You should have thought about that before.” In a blink, the hands on her shoulders turned her around and pushed.
There was a brief moment of suspension before her body rolled down the stairs and met the floor with a sickening sound; she was sure her head hit the ground as sharp pain started to bloom from her shoulder, legs and temple.
In that silver of time, she wondered if it was some kind of karmic punishment, if the universe would be so petty as to end her the same way she had done her sister.
The world twisted and turned in front of her eyes when they opened, but she forced them to focus. The light burned but she looked up, unable to do anything else; like a deer in headlights waiting for the hit. Above her, only a tram of stairs away, she saw him: Kim Dokja at the doorway, framed by the hallway light like a halo, looking impassively down at her.
She passed out.
Things came back to her in bits and pieces. The first thing she felt was the cold wood against her skin, then it was the smell; something was rotting down there, the sickening sweet scent was heavy in the stale air, clinging to her nose, making her gag and bringing tears to her eyes. Curiously enough, she could also hear that someone was whispering, making soft cooing sounds and speaking slowly, but she couldn't make sense of the words.
It hurt to move, but she did anyway. As she expected, the smallest movement had pain shooting up her leg and side, taking the air out of her lungs and leaving her breathless; it didn't matter, nothing felt broken, she still could move. Gasping, she got to her knees and crawled, then the words started to make sense. With effort, she raised her head and looked.
“Nothing is easy with you, is it? Of course you would be like this, every time.” Kim Dokja was kneeling on the ground just a few meters away, holding the thing's face tenderly between his hands. It had calmed down under the attention, and in the dim lights it almost looked human, even if its droopy eyes and drooling mouth, caged behind a robust muzzle, were evidence of its actual nature. Kim Dokja, the madman, was apparently blind to this as he handled him with nauseating care and brushed sweaty bangs out of the corpse's face. “Now, don't you dare to try and bite me. I know you, Yoo Joonghyuk.”
He was insane. She was aware of that already, by then, but watching him sweet talk to that thing as if it could understand him made the dread in her stomach grow.
It made sense now, how friendly and welcoming he had been; after all, one catches more bees with honey than with vinegar, and Kim Dokja had embodied the perfect trap for a tired, starving lone traveler.
If he was aware of her consciousness, he didn't acknowledge it. Maybe he wasn't worried about her escaping, but in his indifference he was giving her time to try to find a way out. Desperate, she looked for the only door, but, to her horror, it had been closed shut.
Panic rose like the tide inside her heaving chest. She sobbed quietly, her eyes going back to her captor; without the door open, the only light came from a lightbulb that dangled poorly from the ceiling. It made some strange shadows and left a lot of the room in the dark. Unfortunately, even that was more than enough to allow her to see what lay in the ground next to her; it was bones.
“I expected you to be unconscious for a while more,” Kim Dokja spoke, considerably closer than he had been just a moment ago. When had he moved, she didn't know.
The hand was gentle when it grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. She groaned in pain, but was quick to find her balance and take her arm out of Kim Dokja's grip.
In a sudden surge of adrenaline, she aimed a punch to the man's face, fast enough that he wasn't able to dodge it before it connected with his nose with a wet crunch. As he raised his hands to his face, she didn't hesitate; she lunged for the stairs.
She was already halfway there when fingers closed around her hair and yanked down, taking her with them. She creamed her throat raw, reaching behind her as she was pushed down. The thing chained to the floor joined her, screeching as it trashed around. It felt like a promise of death, like a proof of what was coming if she didn't make it out. So she pushed with all her might and turned them around. It became a blur then.
Blinded by blind rage and adrenaline as she was, she couldn't make sense of anything but her own body. She bit and scratched, shoved away whatever hand that grabbed her but only managed to crawl her way to the stairs before she was dragged back by her ankles.
Too exhausted to move a muscle, she lied where she was left, panting wetly. Kim Dokja, suddenly next to her, clicked his tongue in displeasure.
“It took me a good while to calm him down,” he stated with clear annoyance. Evidently, she had just ruined his hard work. “He rarely gets this violent, but he is really hungry this time.”
Kang Seoyeon could only see his feet from where she rested on the ground, but he could hear the zombie still screaming and straining against its restraints. When she made the effort to lift her head, she was able to see it. It was looking right back at her, the chains bolted to the wall being the only thing keeping it from jumping her. It wasn't muzzled anymore.
Resignation started to settle over her like a heavy blanket. She couldn't help but sob, fat tears falling down her dirty face and shoulders trembling with effort; she was going to die like an animal.
“Please, don't cry.” She felt a hand fall on her shoulder. The voice it belonged to was kind, it was weirdly comforting. “You are making it more difficult for yourself.”
“I'm sorry.” She choked out. “I'm sorry.”
She herself had no idea what she was apologizing for, but there could be a chance that, if she sounded sincere enough, he could let her live.
“You don't need to apologize.” Kim Dokja sighed deeply, as if her distress were inconveniencing him. “It's not personal. You did nothing to deserve this but to be in the right place at the right time.” When her crying didn't stop, he added, “I would rather not have to do this too, but Yoo Joonghyuk needs to eat.”
The hand left her, and Kang Seoyeon heard him stepping towards the zombie. Only able to see his back couldn't exactly see what he was doing, but the thing, strangely enough, calmed down considerably the more Kim Dokja talked to it.
“She is clean, I promise, so stop making that face,” she heard him scold it softly. More than angry, he sounded amused. “She even took a shower this morning. Don't you think you're being way too picky, Yoo Joonghyuk? Did nobody teach you manners?”
It infuriated her, somehow, that a corpse was being treated with more respect than her. That while she was being lured and slaughtered like cattle, it was the pile of rotting flesh who got the human treatment.
When he approached once more, she took the chance to put a hand around one of his legs.
“Please just kill me.” It would be far more kind, far more bearable to be dead from the start. “Just kill me instead. You have a gun, just shoot me.”
But Kim Dokja simply walked away from her grasp and took hold of her arm instead, pulling her up until she was standing again. It hurt, something had definitely broken in her ankle and standing alone sent searing pain through her whole leg. Her head felt dizzy, and she had to lean into Kim Dokja not to fall again.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” he told her, one of his palms friendly petting the shoulder it was resting on. “Yoo Joonghyuk is a terribly picky eater; he won't eat anything that he doesn’t kill himself. It'd be a waste if I were to kill you myself.”
As Kim Dokja pulled her closer to the beast, she wondered if that was how her sister felt when Kang Seoyeon pushed her into the hoard chasing them and closed the door behind her without looking back, trapping her in the wolf's mouth. Was experiencing the same fate her punishment? She felt puking her insides out.
Its face was right in front of hers now, uncannily calm as it sniffed furiosuly in her direction. Its dilated eyes looked back at her, but she chose to close her own.
The hand on her hand threw her foward and she fell. Her eyes didn't open again.
“Eat well, Joonghyuk-ah.”