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  • 17th Death: Available

    Jiho moved ahead, maintaining his usual casual air, though unease brewed beneath the surface. As they reached the elevator, a small display blinked in the corner of his vision.

    [ZOMBIFICATION: 78%]

    ‘So it does go up consistently? When I used that punch, it dropped by… around 20%, right?’ Jiho thought, his attention briefly pulled from the crumbling elevator.

    The elevator was wrecked—its doors cracked open, barely hanging by the hinges, revealing a dark, ominous void. Faint flames flickered below, casting eerie shadows up the shaft.

    Jiho leaned closer, squinting into the abyss. “Well?” Marcel’s voice sliced through the silence.

    “Completely destroyed,” Jiho muttered, pulling back. He turned toward Marcel. “You didn’t hear it? The collapse, I mean. It had to be loud—like a boom or something.”

    Marcel raised a brow, his expression calm but pointed. “Monsieur Jiho, surely you’re aware the past two days have been nothing but destruction? Explosions, collapses, the horde tearing through everything in its path. I had hoped the elevator might have survived the chaos… as I’m sure you did as well, non?”

    Jiho shot a quick glance at Amelie, who was watching him with curious eyes, before blurting, “Uh, yeah.”

    ‘Right… They don’t know I’ve been knocked out these past few days. No point in bringing that up—who would even believe me? “Oh yeah, I just woke up to an apocalypse and miraculously found my apartment untouched, oops.” Yeah, no thanks,’ Jiho thought, fighting to keep his face neutral.

    Marcel’s frown deepened slightly as he observed Jiho’s nonchalant response.

    ‘What kind of reply was that…? Is this boy hiding something from us? His skill in dispatching those hellspawns, his strange demeanor toward my lady earlier… Could he be a spy sent by the other families to sabotage us? I’d rather not think ill of the one who saved us, but… worse things have happened. And now, with his infection and the elevator destroyed… something feels off.’ Marcel’s suspicions grew.

    Jiho clicked his tongue in frustration. ‘Guess I’ll have to take them through the stairs.’

    His mind raced, calculating the risks. ‘If I could just summon the strength I had when I punched that zombie… if I could keep that going all the time, like when I first woke up, this wouldn’t be a problem.’ As the thought crossed his mind, the message appeared again.

    [ZOMBIFICATION: 82%]

    ‘It has to be tied to this… Is this some kind of strength meter? Assuming it is, even if I hit 100%, I could maybe throw five punches like that, tops; considering it drops by 20% with every punch? Does that mean the outburst I had when I killed all those zombies was a one-time thing?’ The doubt gnawed at him.

    ‘I’m not confident at all going down the stairs the way I am now. Who knows if all zombies are the same? What if there are more that can run—or worse, hit us harder instead of just going for our flesh? What if there are zombies even stronger than the ones we’ve seen?’ His chest tightened at the thought.

    His jaw clenched, and he exhaled slowly. ‘I need to figure out how to keep them safe… and keep myself alive… Well, at least me and the chick… I’ll tap that ass and ditch the old man, just like I planned.’ He tried to force a triumphant chuckle, but instead, that familiar twinge of guilt surfaced, gnawing at him.

    “You see, Jiho?” Daniel’s voice slithered into his mind, low and mocking. “You don’t have what it takes to get what you want. Even with some… mad pussy right in front of you, ripe for the taking… You just wuss out at the thought, letting some insignificant little thing like guilt stop you. And you think you’re strong…” Daniel’s voice dripped with venom as he leaned in closer, the words crawling under Jiho’s skin.

    “You’re just some pathetic virgin. Even if, by some slim chance, Eunhee has feelings for you, how exactly do you think you’re going to impress her now?” The sneer in Daniel’s tone sharpened. “Especially after everything I did to her?”

    ‘…!!!’ Jiho’s teeth gritted, anger surging in his veins.

    Amelie’s sudden stomp snapped him out of it. She pouted, a small grunt escaping her lips as she glanced once more at the injuries showing through his torn clothes.

    ‘What does she want…?’ Jiho shook his head. ‘Frustrated about the elevator? Typical rich girl; she’s probably spoiled, too.’ He sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down harder on his shoulders.

    “Lady Amélie ?” Marcel called, his voice tense, as Amelie abruptly turned and walked toward a nearby apartment, the door slightly ajar.

    Jiho hummed in curiosity as Marcel quickly followed after her. “Lady Amélie ! Que faites-vous ?!!” Marcel rushed into the apartment behind her.

    ‘…Should I follow them?’ Jiho wondered, standing in the hall as muffled noises, the sound of items falling, and heavy footsteps echoed from within the apartment. The uncertainty gnawed at him, but curiosity pushed him forward. He approached slowly, cautious of what might happen.

    As he reached the edge of the doorstep, Amelie suddenly sprang out of the apartment, catching Jiho off guard. She strode right up to him, closing the distance in a way that made his breath hitch. Instinctively, he took a step back, his usually stoic expression dissolving into one of surprise and a flicker of embarrassment, his heart rate spiking.

    “A-ah…” Jiho gasped, his eyes widening as they locked with hers. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, her intense gaze holding him in place.

    “Lady Amélie, que faites-vous—!” Marcel’s voice rang out as he followed her from the apartment, but Jiho’s focus stayed glued to Amelie.

    His eyes darted around before finally landing on the bandage roll in her hand.

    Without a word, Amelie swiftly unrolled it and began wrapping it around his torso, covering his torn shirt with focused, almost aggressive movements. Jiho could see the frustration and tension on her face as she worked, her hands quick and firm.

    “…” Jiho went silent, his heart settling into a steady rhythm as he watched her wrap the bandage around him with surprising care.

    “Voilà!” Amelie grunted, stepping back as she finished, arms crossed and lips pursed in satisfaction.

    “Ma lady… C’est…” Marcel started, looking between Amelie and Jiho, his voice uncertain.

    Jiho took a deep breath, his muscles tightening as he grabbed the bandage. In one effortless motion, he ripped it open, the fabric falling away as he tossed it to the side.

    Amelie’s eyes widened, a mix of frustration and sadness crossing her face as she stared at the discarded bandage.

    “….” Jiho said nothing, locking eyes with her for a long, tense moment. Then, without a word, he turned and strode past her into the apartment, his footsteps echoing against the floor.

    “?” Amelie hummed, confused as she watched him walk inside, her earlier determination crumbling into a soft curiosity.

    After a few seconds, Jiho emerged from the apartment, a small bottle clasped in his palm. He walked up to Amelie, standing just inches away from her. His presence was firm, his eyes locking onto hers for a moment before he extended his hand, palm open, as if expecting something.

    Amelie’s expression of frustration and sadness faded, replaced by a quiet curiosity. Without a word, she moved too, gently placing the bandage roll in his outstretched hand.

    ‘…She really is just a spoiled rich girl,’ Jiho thought, stepping back a couple of paces as he opened the bottle.

    In one swift motion, Jiho removed his shirt, baring the wounds that had been hastily bandaged earlier. Amelie’s gaze lingered, watching closely, almost expectantly.

    ‘…No way. In a time like this? He’s not about to…’ Marcel thought as he narrowed his eyes at Jiho.

    Jiho calmly dipped his fingers into the bottle, retrieving a thick brown fluid, and began rubbing the medicinal paste over his wounds with practiced ease, covering each injury until they glistened under the dim light.

    ‘…To show my lady how to properly care for someone?’ Marcel’s eyes gleamed with sudden realization, admiration flickering in his gaze as he watched Jiho work.

    Jiho then unrolled the bandage, swiftly and methodically applying it to his wounds with far more precision than Amelie had. Once satisfied, he slipped his shirt back on, his actions efficient and deliberate.

    Without a word, he extended both the bottle and the remaining bandage roll toward Amelie.

    “V…” Jiho mumbled, avoiding her gaze, “Vualah… or whatever that means.” His voice trailed off awkwardly as Amelie reached out and gently took the items from him.

    [ZOMBIFICATION: 93%]

    “That’s yours. Don’t lose it,” he muttered, his tone casual but still distant, his eyes looking anywhere but at her…

    …completely unaware of the soft, vibrant smile that bloomed on Amelie’s face.

    Marcel studied the boy’s expression, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. ‘I’m sorry, young man. You don’t seem like the type to harm us… but with your infection—and the slim chance you could be working for our competitors, showing up just when I was on the brink of death to save us… I can’t afford to take risks. I’ll find the right moment for me and my lady to escape your grasp.’ The weight of his thoughts pressed heavily on his mind.

    ‘It’ll be soon,’ Marcel thought grimly, glancing at the wristwatch he had discreetly set when Jiho was slashed by the zombie.

    24:59 minutes left.

    ‘Twenty-five minutes left. I’ve measured the transformation time five times before—it’s always 40 minutes.’ Marcel swallowed hard, feeling the icy grip of anxiety tighten around his chest.

    His gaze shifted toward Amelie. ‘I must ensure her safety. We need to get out… soon.’

    “We should keep moving. We’ll take the stairs,” Jiho said, his voice brisk, already turning on his heel and heading toward the stairwell, his stride deliberate.

    Marcel’s eyes stayed fixed on Jiho as he analyzed every move. ‘Monsieur Jiho is really going to take us down the hellspawn-infested stairwell…? He can’t actually believe he can fight his way through them! So why isn’t he heading for the emergency shaft that leads to the basement? Sure, it needs to be pried open, but it’s far safer than the stairs!’

    Two possibilities churned in Marcel’s mind:

    Jiho didn’t know the emergency shaft existed.

    He was leading them into a death trap.

    His pulse quickened, weighing the risks. ‘I can’t gamble with my lady’s safety on this 50/50 chance. My lady… my child’s safety is worth everything,’ Marcel resolved as Jiho neared the stairwell, Amelie close behind.

    ‘Even my own morality,’ he thought, a cold determination settling in as the group stood at the top of the stairwell. Below them, dozens of zombies milled around the first landing, their groans echoing up the narrow space. Amelie glanced at Marcel, noticing his pale face, the beads of sweat dripping down his forehead.

    [ZOMBIFICATION: 98%]

    Jiho’s attention flickered to the message prompt. ‘Good. At least this thing goes up fast. Wait…’ His thoughts trailed off as a memory surfaced—when he faced the first runner zombie.

    =============== CHAPTER 12 ===============

    [MINDLESS ZOMBIFICATION IN PROGRESS! IGNORING YOUR NEEDS HAS TRIGGERED A ZOMBIFICATION PROCESS. ONCE COMPLETE, YOUR SENSE OF SELF WILL BE STRIPPED AWAY, AND YOU WILL BECOME A MINDLESS ZOMBIE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!! MAY GOD HAVE MERCY ON YOUR SOUL, BECAUSE YOU WON’T DISCOVER HOW TO STOP IT. YOU WERE RUDE, SO I WON’T BOTHER TELLING YOU!]

    =============================================

    ‘It first said I’d become a mindless zombie. That was the zombification process… But after I hit that runner, the message changed…’

    ===========================

    [BECAUSE YOU’VE MET YOUR CONDITION AT 100%, YOU HAVE UNLOCKED…]

    ===========================

    ‘Damn it… I was too angry to notice back then! What did it say after that!? What the hell did I unlock?!’ His eyes darted to the current zombification status.

    ‘It doesn’t say I’ll turn into a mindless zombie again… Then… what happens at 100%?!’ Anxiety gnawed at him as he gulped, his heart racing.

    “Marcel…?” she whispered, her voice tinged with concern. Marcel brushed past her, falling in step behind Jiho.

    Jiho scanned the stairs below, thinking, ‘Fuck, I also have to worry about how to go about this!!?’

    ‘She’s… worth everything…!’ Marcel’s mind flashed to Amelie’s smile as his good hand hovered behind Jiho’s back.

    “MARCEL!!” Amelie’s scream rang out in panic, her eyes widening as she saw her butler’s hand move with deadly intent.

    ‘Forgive me, my lady…!!’ Marcel’s thoughts screamed.

    “What the—” Jiho began, turning to face him—but he never finished. Marcel slammed his full weight into Jiho’s back, sending him tumbling headfirst down the stairs.

    Jiho’s body crashed into the horde of zombies, their guttural growls rising as they pounced on him.

    [ZOMBIFICATION: 99%]

    “Mughhehhehehe!!!!” The monstrous chorus filled the air as Jiho hit the swarm, his mouth agape in shock, eyes wide as he locked onto Marcel’s cold gaze.

    Amelie’s outstretched hand trembled, her face twisted in horror as she tried to reach for Jiho…

    But Marcel pulled her back.

    “NON!!!!!” she cried, her voice cracking as her butler dragged her away.

    As Jiho was swallowed by the horde, he heard the haunting sound of Eunhee and Daniel’s laughter echoing in his mind, their taunting cackles blending with the chaos around him.

    And then,

    The message prompt displayed the following.

    [ZOMBIFICATION: 100%]

    [RAGE MODE AVAILABLE!]

  • 16th Death: Pulse

    [Hazy here! When I wrote this chapter and honestly, most of the early ones, I was mostly chasing catharsis. Actually – that’s how most of my stories started! Around this point, I started realizing maybe there should be a little more logic or an organized system behind things… but it still came out a bit sloppy, in my opinion. It was only a little later into this story that I settled into something more structured.]

    [Hope you enjoy the chapter!]

    [SORRY FOR THE DELAY, MEGA TIRED AND HAD LOTS TO DO!]

    “JIHO!!” Amelie screamed, her face pale with fear.

    “DON’T WORRY, IT’S JUST A SCRATCH..!” Jiho called back, facing the zombie head-on.

    “N-Non…” Amelie murmured to herself, her gaze fixed on him, trembling.

    “This… is a problem,” Marcel muttered under his breath, his forehead slick with sweat as he glanced at Jiho. “He’s infected now…! He’s done for whether he kills that thing or not!”

    As Jiho’s mind raced to figure out a way to defeat the zombie, the message prompt appeared in front of him.

    [Boyo. There’s something I want to ask.]

    ‘NOW!?’ Jiho thought, frowning at the sudden message.

    [Most people in your position would’ve taken my help without a second thought.] The message prompt’s words hovered before his eyes. Jiho tilted his head, gulping.

    “What’s wrong with him!?” Amelie shouted, panic in her voice.

    “I’m not sure… I think he’s trying to figure something out,” Marcel replied, scrutinizing Jiho. ‘It’s almost like… he’s distracted? He couldn’t be daydreaming at a time like this, right?’ Marcel thought, perplexed.

    [They would be like: “Heh… A Zombie System? Ridiculous. But I’ll take it. I’ll take it if it means growing stronger… devour the system, blah blah, make an omelette with it, stuff it in a sandwich and eat it all up, level up, blah blah, heh, new skills, heh, easy,; become the strongest] the Message prompt continued, mocking. [Let’s be real, I don’t know who hurt you, but you seem like the type who’d do just that.]

    “…” Jiho remained silent, his fists clenching.

    [So why don’t you just accept my help? After everything that’s happened, you can’t seriously think this is just a hallucination from the infection. And who knows? You could become so strong, no one could ever hurt you again. All you have to do is accept my help.]

    “… Fuck off,” Jiho growled through gritted teeth. “I’ll never accept your help.”

    […]

    “I’ll never rely on someone else’s strength again,” he hissed, tightening his fist. “I did that my whole life…”

    “That strength isn’t yours, Jiho,” Daniel’s mocking voice echoed in his mind. “You can’t do anything by yourself.”

    “Only Daniel has real strength. He’s a real man, unlike you.”

    “And I JUST GOT FUCKED OVER!!” Jiho shouted, his voice rising in anger. “I GOT SPAT AT FROM EVERY DIRECTION!! JUST BECAUSE HE WANTED TO FUCK EUNHEE, HE THREW AWAY ALL MY TRUST LIKE IT WAS NOTHING!!”

    Amelie and Marcel watched in stunned silence as Jiho raged, their eyes narrowing in concern.

    ‘Is he delirious from the infection…?’ Marcel wondered, clutching his injured arm in frustration. Amelie glanced at him, her lips pressed tightly together, a soft look of pity crossing her face.

    “So, I won’t trust anyone ever again. I’ll only trust myself. That way…” Jiho gulped, looking past the message prompt at the approaching zombie. “I’ll never be betrayed again.”

    [Okay, I understand.]

    [Well, until you’re done with all that, or die, I’ll be here.] The message prompt’s final message appeared, the tone calm, yet condescending. The words ignited a spark of irritation in Jiho’s chest.

    ‘Done with all that…!? This fucking system thinks I can just be done with it? It can go screw itself!!’

    Shoving aside his fury at the message prompt, Jiho focused back on the situation. He glanced down at his lacerated chest and stomach, blood dripping from the shallow but painful wounds.

    [ZOMBIFICATION: 79%]

    ‘I don’t have time for that..! I survived it before, I’ll do it again somehow!’ He thought as he ignored the message prompt, looking at the zombie again. ‘That aside…’

    ‘I didn’t know these things could fight like that…! And while it wasn’t deep, they hit hard…!!’ His breath quickened, his vision narrowing as the blood continued to seep from his wound.

    ‘How long has it been… Since I bled from a fight…?’ He raised his gaze to scrutinze the zombie, which began to tumble its way toward him.

    ‘It’s coming… Now what do I do!? I’m used to them attacking in a singular pattern… I… I don’t know how to fight!’ He thought. And just then, a memory flashed before his eyes.

    ————————

    “Hey, Daniel,” Jiho asked as he watched his friend finish up a Close-Quarters-Combat sparring session in the school gym.

    “Yeah, what’s up?” Daniel replied, wiping the sweat from his brow.

    “How can you fight so good?” Jiho asked, his voice tinged with awe. “The way you can… Like, see when he’s gonna throw a punch or a kick, and already ready to defend beforehand? I just curl up whenever we play-fight…”

    Daniel shrugged, giving a slight smile. “All experience.”

    “Experience?” Jiho echoed, tilting his head.

    “Yeah, forget it, Jiho,” Daniel said, his tone matter-of-fact. “I’ve been fighting since I was a little boy, against thugs and whatnot. It’s not worth it.”

    “But you’re so strong… Can’t you teach me more seriously, maybe? It’d be nice to be this strong, maybe I can protect you and Eunhee someday!” Jiho asked, his eyes hopeful.

    Daniel shook his head. “Don’t try to drag yourself into it. Especially since you’re not that strong to begin with. Fighting’s just a waste of time… I fought because I had to, and then I just carried that with me to high-school.”

    Jiho frowned. “But what if I need to defend myself or you guys? What if—”

    “Look,” Daniel interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. “Trust me, it’s not something you want to get good at.”

    Jiho looked down, feeling a mixture of disappointment and confusion. “But… Why?”

    “Just focus on what you’re good at, Jiho. Fighting… it’s not worth it. It’s not as glamorous as you think.”

    “Besides… What are you so worried about?” He said lightly as he tapped his shoulder, as the two began walking away from the gym together, “You have me, don’t you? I’m the knight and you’re the strategist, aren’t we?”

    “Haha… I… Alright, Daniel. Then… I’m counting on you.”

    ————————————

    Jiho clenched his fists on the metal pipe pieces in anger, his knuckles turning white as he remembered Daniel’s dismissive attitude; the pipes bending under his strength.

    ‘Motherfucker… Thinking back, that was just your way of further cementing me as a wimp, so that you’d have more control over Eunhee and everyone else. You told me I don’t need that… You meant you don’t want me accidentally impressing her more than you do, huh!?’ Jiho’s thoughts were seething with rage as he tightened his grip on the sharp metal pipe pieces in both his hands. ‘You made me weak just so you could play the hero in front of her, years to come. You never wanted to help me…!! You just wanted to keep me down, so you could have her all to yourself…!’

    ‘You were never my friend… You were just a manipulative bastard,’ Jiho thought bitterly. The image of Daniel, always so confident, always so in control, loomed large in his mind.

    ‘But now, it’s different,’ Jiho thought, the anger fueling his resolve. ‘I’m not the same weak kid you used to know. I’ve survived things you couldn’t even imagine!!! STREET FIGHTS!!!? I’M FAR ABOVE YOU NOW, BOY!!!’

    [ZOMBIFICATION: 85%]

    “Something’s wrong..!” Marcel blurted as he noticed Jiho shift; he tossed the metal pipes away.

    “JIHO!” Amelie called as she noticed him tense up, and growl.

    “FUCKERRRR!!!!!!!!!” He roared, his fear, and his instincts blinded by anger as he charged with all of his might. The zombie then swiftly swung its hand once more.

    Landing a deep triple laceration stretching across Jiho’s cheek, down to his neck and down to his chest. His blood spurting out.

    But Jiho didn’t relent in the slightest.

    A PULSE.

    His fist was so clenched, he dug his fingers into his palm, and blood began to spurt out as he swung his fist at the zombie’s face, but due to his overwhelming rage; his aim was off. His bloodied fist was now moments away from landing on the zombie’s chest area.

    ‘He missed!!’ Marcel thought as he looked at Jiho.

    It was then that the pulse emitted by his heart spread to his arm. Like a thruster with immense power, his hand was sent forward in inhuman speed.

    At the same time, Jiho had a thought in the ocean of wrath he was drowning at.

    Jiho felt that he hated Daniel. He knew that by heart.

    Yet, his mind remembered that despite Daniel betraying his trust… Daniel was strong.

    ———————–

    “Why you punched him from below?” Jiho asked as he looked at Daniel after a spar.

    “Because strength comes from the legs. And if you punch someone from below, it generates more power. You just shift your legs like this, and then throw a punch, and it becomes super strong. He stood no chance.”

    ————————

    And Jiho, at that moment, wanted a strong punch.

    Just before Jiho hit, he shifted his body, his punch, instead of bulleting from above, he lowered it, and had it come from next to his belly.

    ‘He just… Changed his punch!!’ Marcel thought as the punch slammed against the zombie’s ribs.

    A loud thud noise reverberated throughout the hallway. The fist sent a shockwave coursing throughout the zombie’s body. Soon after Jiho’s hit landed, the zombie’s blood vessels began spurting out of its skin, starting from the ribs, and spreading downwards and upwards as the zombie flew backwards. Eventually, the zombie’s entire upper torso splattered with blood as the zombie’s body flew away from Jiho’s fist.

    “Hee!” Amelie gasped, placing her palms on her mouth again, watching alongside Marcel in shock as the zombie slumped to the ground, covered in blood before Jiho’s feet.

    “Just what… was that?!” Marcel murmured to himself, as Jiho looked at his palms in slight confusion, inspecting them as if they weren’t his own.

    Jiho’s breath came in ragged bursts, his chest rising and falling as the rage that had fueled him just moments ago slowly began to fade. His hands trembled slightly, blood dripping from his knuckles. His vision blurred for a moment as the adrenaline drained from his body.

    ‘That pulse… just now… And this strength,’ His heart pounded as he panted ‘What was that? I felt like my whole body was on fire! It happened just as I…’

    ‘… Got angry.’ He realized with a gulp.

    The surge of anger that had driven him through the fight began to fade, leaving behind a strange, unsettling calmness. Jiho stood over the lifeless corpse of the zombie, its black fluid and streaks of reddish blood pooling at his feet. The adrenaline that had clouded his thoughts slowly ebbed away, the haze in his mind lifting with each breath.

    He flexed his fingers, trying to regain feeling in his hands, which had gone numb from the intensity of his grip. Blood still trickled from the cuts on his chest and cheek, but they didn’t hurt as much as they should have.

    ‘So… it’s anger?’ He pondered as he took a deep breath. His mind, which had been racing with thoughts of betrayal and fury, began to slow down, grounding him. ‘I just have to get angry to draw that power out?’

    A faint, almost satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he clenched his bloodied fist. ‘That won’t be a problem at all—’

    Suddenly, Amelie’s voice cut through his thoughts, snapping him back to reality.

    “JIHO!” she called, her voice shaky with concern as she tapped his shoulder.

    Startled, Jiho’s body jolted.

    “Lady Amelie!” Marcel called, noticing she had moved closer to Jiho.

    “A-ah…” Jiho’s attention snapped away from his bloodied palms, turning around to face Amelie.

    Amelie’s eyes widened as they settled on the blood streaks across his chest and face.

    “Oh, this is nothi—” Jiho began to speak, but his voice faltered, suddenly quieter as he noticed the genuine concern in her gaze. His words caught in his throat. Before he could finish his sentence, Amelie whipped around to her butler, shouting:

    “MARCEL, VITE – IL DOIT Y AV—”

    “Wait, wait a minute!” Jiho interrupted.

    “It’s alright,” he began, “It stings a bit, but really, it’s alright. It didn’t hit anything important, or even that deep. Let’s press forward.”

    ‘Press forward?’ Marcel thought as he scrutinized Jiho, ‘He survived these two days, surely he knows he’s infected if he’s bitten or scratched by these hellspawns, right!? Then… Does he want to lead us out of the building before he turns?’ Marcel thought with a gulp.

    ‘How admirable. Despite his clearly cluttered mind, for a boy his age to show such bravery and nobility… Such a shame.’ He frowned, ‘Such a shame he will die. He still seems very impressionable. He would have been a fine addition to My Lady’s regime. I understand, young man.’ He looked into Jiho’s eyes, ‘We shall make sure your family hears of your bravery!’

    “Very well,” Marcel said as he approached Amelie and Jiho.

    “M-MARCEL?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING, WE NEED TO FIND A MEDICAL KIT AND TEND HIS WOU—” She started urgently in French, but then Marcel gently placed his palm on her shoulder.

    “My lady. You mustn’t delude yourself. This brave young man is going to die. He wishes to lead us out before he does… You must understand there is nothing more we can do for him.” He said in French as he looked at Jiho.

    ‘… I wonder what they are saying,’ Jiho thought, puzzled.

    “But..!! To just leave his wound like that…!” She countered as she glanced at his chest and cheek.

    “My lady… No bandage can undo the infection. You know this. If we place a bandage on him, he will simply be a hellspawn with a bandage on itself. We must press forward, before we find ourselves in a most dire situation.” Marcel pressed.

    Amelie’s lips pursed as she glanced at Jiho again, who narrowed his eyes in curiosity at their conversation in French.

    ‘They look sad. Should I tell them I’m immune?’

    ‘… No. I don’t think it’s safe to shout that I’m immune to everyone I’ll meet. I’ll just figure out what to say later,’ Jiho thought.

    “Then,” Amelie said to Marcel, “Let us find his family after we’re out of here, and tell them about his endeavors!” She said, her brows knitting in sadness.

    “Indeed we shall,” Marcel concluded as he finally turned to Jiho.

    “Well, lead the way, young man. We are merely a few meters away from the elevator, are we not?” He said with a light smile.

    “… Yeah,” Jiho said as he turned around and walked ahead of the group. The message prompt showing to him.

    [ZOMBIFICATION: 55%]

    ‘Huh… It’s lower now.’ Jiho thought as he glanced at it.

    ========== ELSEWHERE =================

    “Hoo?” He spoke as he opened his status window, his entire surroundings covered with zombie corpses. “I leveled up again… Nice,”

    [Status Window – Jang Seung-Jae]

    [Name]: Jang Seung-Jae

    [Level]: 11

    [Title]: Devourer of Flesh

    [Class]: Necromancer

    [Sub-class]: Commander of the Damned

    [HP]: 1100/1100 (+200 Due to title)

    ====== STATS=========

    [Strength]: 10

    [Dexterity]: 10

    [Defense]: 10

    [Speed]: 10

    [Intelligence]: 65

    [Abilities]

    [Zombie Army – Level 2]

    Effect: Allows the user to raise a personal army of the undead from fallen enemies, converting their bodies into reanimated soldiers. The higher the level, the higher the chance for you to animate stronger foes!

    Cooldown: 48 hours

    Command Range: 20 Meter radius

    Max Undead Controlled: 20

    HP USAGE: 50%

    [Soul Drain – Level 2]

    Effect: Absorbs the soul essence of a defeated enemy/an Undead Minion to restore HP.

    HP Recovery: +20% HP per body.

    Cooldown: 2 hours.

    [Corpse Explosion – Level 2]

    Effect: Detonates an undead minion or fallen corpse, dealing massive area damage to all enemies nearby.

    Explosion Radius: 2 meters

    HP USAGE: 2% PER CORPSE

    [Plague Aura – Level 2]

    Effect: Releases a miasma that weakens living beings within a certain radius around the user. Undead units are immune and become stronger within this aura.

    HP USAGE: 5% HP per minute

    [Passive Abilities]

    [Commanding Presence – Level 3]

    Effect: Automatically boosts morale of allied undead and reduces the strength of human enemies who meet his gaze.

    [Zombie Army]: Seung-Jae summoned an undead horde, their twisted bodies responding to his every command with absolute obedience. They had no need for food, no fear of death, and no remorse—just endless, unyielding hunger.

    Seung-Jae smirked as the system prompt appeared before him. Unable but to chuckle.

    “Heh… A zombie system? Ridiculous.” His voice oozed with disdain as he raised an eyebrow. “But I’ll take it. I’ll take it and crush everyone in my path. Level up, devour the system, tear it apart limb by limb… until I’m the strongest, until every last one of you bows to me. Heh, I’ll even make an omelette out of it and stuff it in a sandwich… Eat it whole.”

    His fingers twitched, and dark energy pulsed outward as he walked.

    “Now… Doom Baby,” Seung-Jae smirked as he reached out to tap the towering 2-meter-tall zombie beside him. Its hulking form bristled with muscle, its monstrous presence looming over the others like a dark sentinel. The zombie groaned in response, a low, guttural sound as it awaited his command.

    He grinned wickedly. “Let’s climb this building. The first step in dominating the world… starts here.” His voice dripped with ambition as he turned, pacing forward with a sharp gleam in his eyes. “We’ll take over this building, then the entire street. And from there, we’ll form our own city in this quarantine zone.”

    Seung-Jae paused for a moment, his gaze flicking back to the towering zombie, then to the other 12 undead soldiers that flanked him. “The world comes afterward…!!”

    He moved with swift purpose past the hulking zombie and the remaining soldiers, his eyes fixed on the stairwell at the end of the 4th floor. 

    A slight click of his tongue echoed through the silence. “Tsk… Only 40 hours until I can reanimate the rest of the horde.” His expression twisted in mild frustration before a sly grin replaced it. “No matter… Twelve is more than enough for now!”

  • 15th Death: Type

    ‘She’s still staring…’ Jiho thought, slightly exasperated as he sat on the couch opposite Marcel, catching Amélie’s intense gaze fixed on him.

    ‘I screamed at you and almost hurt you a few moments ago… at least act scared!’ he fumed inwardly, frustrated.

    “…And that’s why we need to leave and escape the quarantine zone,” Marcel concluded.

    “…I see,” Jiho muttered, narrowing his eyes, his expression briefly hidden.

    ‘So, the area I was in got hit hard. We’re right at the center of the infection. The police, army, and KDCA have quarantined a 10-kilometer radius around the main city, but it hasn’t spread further. Outside the quarantine zone, people are safe. These two, from a prominent French family, can’t even use their helicopter to escape. The WHO blocked any aerial extraction, fearing the infection could spread through the air. They need me to help them get out on foot to the nearest checkpoint.’

    Jiho’s mind raced. ‘And it wasn’t just a few hours… I was out for two whole days. No wonder I was starving.’ His stomach clenched at the thought. ‘While I was unconscious, there were government-led evacuations—lots of people died in the process. After the WHO stepped in, they shut everything down, and even these two, with all their influence, got left behind.’

    A sudden chill crept up Jiho’s spine as reality set in. ‘Wait… even though my house is outside the quarantine zone…’ His stomach twisted. ‘Mom’s workplace isn’t.’ His fist clenched instinctively. ‘Mom!’

    “Give me a few moments,” Jiho said abruptly, standing up. “I need to think.”

    Marcel nodded, while Amélie blinked, her curiosity evident.

    “Oh, and I’ll need a phone,” Jiho muttered, turning back toward them. ‘I need to call her!’

    Marcel and Amélie exchanged a grave look before Marcel spoke, his voice heavy.

    “I’m afraid that won’t do you much good,” he said cautiously.

    Jiho frowned. “Why not?”

    “We’ve tried. None of our calls go through,” Marcel explained, his tone darkening. “The infection is contained within the city, so it’s not like the calls aren’t being received. But… it doesn’t add up. The KDCA or WHO wouldn’t jam the signals without a strong reason.”

    Jiho’s eyes sharpened. “Then who would?”

    Marcel hesitated, glancing at Amélie, whose expression mirrored his concern. “Let’s not jump to conclusions or conspiracies, young man. There could be other factors at play. Perhaps the government’s running an operation within the quarantine zone—or maybe they’re just trying to prevent panic. We just don’t know.”

    Jiho’s fists tightened. The thought of something—or someone—manipulating the situation sent a chill down his spine.

    “With all these complications,” Marcel continued, his voice lowering, “and no access to outside help, we turn to you, Monsieur Jiho. The way you handled those creatures… it was beyond anything I’ve seen, though crude in technique. If you assist us, we will be grateful—and reward you generously. The world outside is still functioning, after all. I imagine a bit of wealth wouldn’t hurt?”

    Jiho lowered his head, deep in thought.

    ‘The chances that my mom is alive… practically zero. The outbreak happened while she was at work. I’ve got nothing left.’

    ‘…I guess… money’s good? Since I’ll be on my own now?’ He swallowed hard, pushing the ache away.

    “…Fine. Let’s go. I’ll get you both to safety,” Jiho muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

    “Oh… How decisive.” Marcel raised an eyebrow, and Amélie’s curiosity deepened as she studied Jiho.

    “Well… it’s not like I’ve got anything better to do,” he murmured, his voice slightly raspy.

    He glanced down at his hand, staring at the spot where he’d been bitten.

    ‘Keep that to yourself for now… Right, Mom?’

    His chest tightened painfully. ‘But you’re not here anymore, are you? You’re probably a zombie… or dead.’

    His gaze shifted to Amélie, and he felt his eyes linger on her smooth skin, her blonde hair, those sparkling eyes. Even amid the chaos, her dress remained flawless. ‘She’s really pretty,’ he thought absentmindedly.

    ‘Something like that has to be worth it, right, Daniel?’ Jiho pondered.

    ‘A romantic relationship, sex with a cute girl, pushing everyone else aside. That’s how you got Eunhee, right? If I just do that… I won’t feel like this… right?’

    His thoughts flickered to Daniel and Eunhee’s embrace.

    ‘Nah,’ Jiho thought, taking a steady breath. ‘I’ll feel fuller than ever. It’ll be worth more than anything I’ve ever done. That’s why you did it, for sure. I’ll save the two of them, and when it comes down to it, I’ll only save her. Then all she’ll want is me. All she can want is me. I’ll have someone by my side—someone who’ll believe in me, someone who won’t leave. That’s how it works, right?’

    “I’ll fight the zombies, clear a path, and get you both to safety,” he added firmly as he got up and turned around, hiding his face as he abruptly walked towards the door.

    ‘I just lied.’ Jiho flinched subtly.

    “Marvelous!” Marcel’s expression sharpened as he immediately turned to Amélie, translating for her.

    “Uhm,” Marcel coughed awkwardly as Jiho went further away. “My Lady wishes to ask you something,” Marcel said, his tone suddenly more serious.

    Jiho froze, his back still to them.

    “Ask,” Jiho muttered.

    “Fais-moi face, s’il te plaît,” Amélie murmured softly, but her tone was firm, almost commanding.

    “Face me, please,” Marcel translated, the intensity not lost in his voice.

    Jiho swallowed hard before turning around. He could feel it. In her voice, —it was as if she knew something was off.

    “Pourquoi ? Je ne bougerai pas d’ici avant que tu me le dises,” Amélie’s eyes were piercing, steady.

    Jiho didn’t understand her words, but the weight behind them made him look away for a moment.

    “Why are you willing to help us? I won’t move until you tell me,” Marcel echoed her question.

    “…”

    ‘Relax, Jiho,’ he thought, caught off-guard by her sharp tone. ‘She can’t read your thoughts. No one can. No one knows how you feel, no one can see the lie on your face… or the love buried in your heart.’ His lips tightened in frustration.

    ‘…Things would be so different if they could,’ he thought, Eunhee’s laughter echoing in his mind, immediately followed by the memory of Daniel and Eunhee walking away, hand in hand.

    ‘…And even if someone could see through it all,’ he clenched his fists, ‘the one person who could is probably dead too.’ His mother’s face flashed in his mind.

    A surge of anger welled up from his gut, his teeth gritting uncontrollably.

    “Then go die,” he growled, startling both Amélie and Marcel.

    Marcel, confused by Jiho’s sudden shift in demeanor, couldn’t quite grasp what had changed. Still, he was obliged to do his job. He turned to Amélie, ready to translate Jiho’s words.

    ‘FUCK..! Why did I do that!?’

    “Wait,” Jiho called, his voice trembling before he continued. “I want to save you… because…”

    ‘Come on… Think of something…! Something that will get this snob to agree!’

    “Because…” Jiho glanced away, feeling Amélie’s eyes narrowing as she watched him. He scratched his head, cursing himself for not having Daniel’s knack for handling people. Desperately searching for anything that sounded natural, he blurted out without thinking:

    “…Because Mom would be sad.” He murmured the words reluctantly, his voice trailing off.

    ‘I’ve been winging it a lot lately… but that’s kind of pathetic. No way that worked, right?’ he thought, watching Marcel translate his words. Jiho glanced back at Amélie, only to catch a light smile spreading across her face, as if she’d already understood what he meant, even before Marcel finished.

    ‘…She bought it.’ Jiho exhaled quietly.

    “Then, Jiho,” Marcel began, “we must first escape this building. Once we reach the outside, we will have to think of how to get to the quarantine-zone borders,”

    Jiho nodded, swallowing hard as he turned around to the door again, a twinge of discomfort gnawing at him.

    ‘What are you feeling so guilty about?’ he thought, clenching his fist silently as they made their way toward the door. ‘There’s no one left to frown at you, right? You can just…’ His mind flashed to the image of his dog, whimpering in a bloody mess, the hammer still in Jiho’s hand.

    ‘Lay it down as much as you want…’ Jiho thought bitterly, watching as Marcel and Amélie started making their way toward the elevator, trailing behind him.

    ‘I haven’t seen that damn message prompt in a while… Did it finally get the hint to leave me alone?’ Jiho wondered, glancing back at Marcel and Amélie, who followed closely behind him. He gripped the metal pipe tighter, walking ahead through the dimly lit hallway.

    “Hm…” Jiho muttered under his breath as he halted, spotting a small group of stragglers in the distance. He raised his hand, signaling for Marcel and Amélie to stop.

    ‘Good.’ He braced himself, tightening his grip on the pipe.

    “Stay here,” Jiho commanded, his voice low and rough. “They’re mine.” He almost growled the words, stepping forward with an air of possession. Amélie and Marcel exchanged a brief glance before silently nodding, watching as Jiho approached the group alone.

    “Psst, Marcel,” Amélie whispered, leaning closer to her butler.

    “What if he gets bitten? Shouldn’t we help him?” she asked, her concern evident.

    “Lady Amélie,” Marcel began, his voice steady. “You’ve seen how powerful those creatures are. Even a weak one could overpower me. If we step in, we’ll only hinder Monsieur Jiho.”

    “…How is he so strong?” she murmured, her eyes locked on Jiho as he readied for the attack.

    “I cannot say,” Marcel replied. “But it’s clear he isn’t accustomed to it. He likely hasn’t used this strength in a long time. Yet he hasn’t hesitated to throw himself into danger, even if it meant risking his life for us… It’s tragic, really. I suspect his entire life has been marked by violence. His reactions, especially when we spoke earlier, suggest a man who has seen too much.”

    “You think… he’s like you? An agent? A soldier?” Amélie asked, her voice softer now.

    Marcel glanced at her before speaking. “Oh, Lady Amélie, in this world, there are children more adept and ruthless than even I… You just need to know where to look. When he sat with us, I noticed his physique. A body like that, muscles like his—they aren’t built overnight. He must have been training since childhood, maybe even earlier. I’d wager his life has been one of combat and survival. His temper reveals it all too clearly.”

    “You really think so?” Amélie’s brows furrowed slightly as she studied Jiho, her head tilting with curiosity. “He just seems like a normal boy to me… just… hurt,” she murmured, recalling Jiho’s haunted expressions and his sudden bursts of anger.

    Marcel gave a small sigh. “It’s only natural you see him that way, Lady Amélie. But in time, you may also learn to recognize those shadows beneath the surface of people.”

    “Are you calling me stupid, Marcel?” Amélie pouted, her eyes narrowing at him.

    “I would never, my Lady,” Marcel responded with a warm smile. “Merely a touch… inexperienced.” He patted her head gently, causing her to huff in frustration.

    As Jiho neared the first zombie, it sluggishly turned toward him, releasing a low, guttural growl.

    “Muuurrrgghhheee!!!” the creature moaned, its decaying arms flailing toward him.

    But Jiho was ready.

    “Hmph,” he grunted, swinging the metal pipe with force. The blow collided with the zombie’s chin, shattering its jaw with a sickening crack. Blood splattered across the wall, teeth flying from its mouth. The zombie stumbled, but it wasn’t down yet.

    ‘Fuck, not strong enough!’ Jiho cursed internally, already bracing for the next.

    Another zombie lurched forward, shoving the injured one aside as it charged at Jiho. He quickly swung again, the pipe connecting with its neck, slicing through the main artery. Blood gushed out, but the zombie barely slowed. Jiho didn’t flinch. He swung again and again—sometimes hitting the same spot, sometimes missing, his blows drifting off-target.

    ‘DAMN IT!’ His thoughts raced as blood sprayed against his face. ‘I’m too used to taking these bastards down in one hit, like earlier! I’m stronger than I was before, but not as strong as when I first woke up! Get it together…!’ He gritted his teeth and landed another hit, this one knocking the zombie to the far wall, just as its teeth nearly latched onto his neck.

    But before Jiho could catch his breath, another zombie lunged at him from the group. He swung the pipe again, but this time he missed its head. As the swing followed through, he noticed the pipe had become dented from the constant blows. The impact wasn’t enough to reach its skull.

    “SHIT!” Jiho yelled as the zombie tackled him to the ground, with others quickly piling on top. He held onto the metal pipe, using it to block the snapping jaws mere inches from his face.

    ‘He’s in trouble!’ Marcel thought, his eyes wide. He glanced at his dislocated arm, cradled in a makeshift cloth sling. ‘But I can’t help him… not like this…!’

    “JIHO!!” Amélie’s voice rang out, panic evident.

    ‘Fuck…!’ Jiho thought, gritting his teeth as the weight of the zombies bore down on him. ‘I can’t push them off! There are too many! Is this it…!?’

    The undead pressed closer, their collective weight crushing him, the nearest zombie’s teeth gnashing just above his neck.

    “Hahahaha…” Jiho heard a sinister chuckle echo in the back of his mind.

    ‘…I’m not talking to you, you bastard.’ Jiho growled internally, fighting to keep the zombie’s jaws away.

    “I don’t even need to say anything, but you’ve always needed a grown-up to explain the real world to you,” Daniel’s voice sneered, dripping with condescension. “So, I’ll do this one last time.”

    A vision of Daniel approached in Jiho’s mind, his muscles flexing as he draped an arm around Eunhee.

    “You might’ve gotten a bit stronger,” Daniel continued, smirking, “but that was just dumb luck. You didn’t earn it like I did.”

    Jiho clenched his teeth harder, fighting back the vision.

    ‘I said shut your ass up!’

    “You didn’t honestly think that strength was yours, did you?” Daniel’s mocking voice grew louder, the sneer never leaving his face.

    ‘Shut up…!’ Jiho’s mind screamed, but the words felt weak, drowned out by the bitter voice in his head.

    “Strength and power were always Daniel’s,” Eunhee’s voice echoed cruelly above him, her figure stepping closer in his imagination. “Do you think anything else matters?”

    Jiho’s muscles trembled as his strength began to falter, the weight of the zombies pressing down harder.

    “The only reason you’re pretending you have any worth at all is because you’re with two strangers who don’t know what a wimp you truly are…” Her voice dripped with disdain.

    “…A real man would’ve saved them by now. No, a real man would’ve made that girl fall for him while tossing the old man aside to die alone. That strength you’ve got now? Daniel would’ve used it much better.”

    ‘Stop…!’ Jiho pushed back, his mental defenses weakening with each passing moment. His arms began to give way.

    “…It’s pathetic, really. And you were doing so well, being so ‘open’ and ‘understanding’ all these years. Honestly, I’m grateful. It’s only thanks to your understanding that I ended up with a real man, and not… you.”

    Jiho’s strength buckled further under the pressure of the zombies. The sharp gnashing teeth were now just inches from his throat. His breath quickened, panic settling in as his body grew weaker.

    “Lady Amelie,” Marcel turned to her, “Get ready to ru—”

    “Hmm!!!” Amelie growled in frustration as she stomped away from Marcel’s side.

    “LADY AMELIE!” Marcel’s desperate voice called, trying to stop her.

    Amélie stomped closer, undeterred. Jiho’s arms were moments from giving out entirely.

    “Well,” Eunhee’s voice sneered one last time, her twisted smirk playing in his mind, “at least your two best friends are with you in your final moments…”

    “Oh wait…” Her smile twisted into something more sinister. “They’re probably busy screwing each other like rabid monkeys, without giving you a second thought—”

    “MONSIEUR JIHO!!!!!” Amélie’s scream pierced through the noise, snapping Jiho’s mind back into reality. The visages of Eunhee and Daniel shattered into nothing.

    ‘What—What is she doing here?! She’ll get eaten!’ Jiho’s gaze locked onto her, standing mere inches from the group of zombies pinning him down.

    She didn’t hesitate.

    With a determined expression, Amélie mimed something with her hands—placing both fists perpendicular to each other and mimicking a motion, as if she were breaking a pencil in half.

    An idea snapped into Jiho’s mind. His grip tightened around the dented metal pipe in his hands.

    [BACKGROUND MUSIC: WHO DO YOU VOODO – SAM B]

    ‘I… GET IT!’ Jiho’s mind snapped into focus as he grasped the metal pipe with both hands, using all his strength to snap it into two sharp, jagged blades.

    With renewed determination, he plunged one half of the pipe into the head of the closest zombie. A rush of satisfaction surged through him as the creature slumped lifelessly beside him.

    ‘FUCK… THAT FEELS GOOD!’ Jiho’s adrenaline flared, his strength reigniting.

    ‘Monsieur Jiho… He snapped that metal pipe like it was nothing more than a pencil…’ Marcel thought, his mouth slightly agape as he raised his gaze to Amélie.

    ‘My Lady… To think you were so certain he could manage this… A truly remarkable insight…’

    ‘… And trust.’

    The jagged edges of his makeshift weapons cut through the horde far more efficiently, allowing him to push the remaining zombies back, gaining precious space.

    He rolled to the side, using the momentum to spring back to his feet. The narrow hallway worked in his favor, limiting how many zombies could rush him at once. With a moment to breathe, Jiho steadied his heart, the pounding in his chest quickly dissolving into focus, fueled by raw adrenaline.

    “You step back now. I got this,” Jiho instructed, positioning himself firmly between Amélie and the oncoming horde.

    ‘Alright… I think I’ve figured out what kind of fighter I am.’

    The next zombie lunged at him, but this time Jiho was ready. He sidestepped swiftly, driving the sharp edge of the broken pipe into the zombie’s eye socket, twisting the metal with brutal efficiency. The creature went limp instantly, and Jiho yanked the pipe free, already scanning for his next target.

    ‘… An assassin type,’ he thought, adopting a new stance, the two jagged pipe halves gripped tightly in his hands like dual daggers.

    Amélie and Marcel watched in awe, their breaths held, eyes wide with a mixture of shock and relief.

    ‘Dear heavens… Lady Amélie, that was far too reckless!’ Marcel’s heart pounded at her near intervention, yet as he watched Jiho swiftly gain control of the situation, a new thought crept into his mind. ‘Though… perhaps that was for the best.’

    He observed Jiho, now moving with slightly more efficiency, very slightly from his trained perspective. Marcel’s gaze flickered to Amélie, whose eyes were locked onto Jiho, captivated by the raw energy and determination emanating from him.

    ‘You’re growing, without even realizing it, Lady Amélie,’ Marcel mused, noticing how Jiho’s resilience and power had sparked something in her—a glimmer of admiration.

    ‘And, as it seems… so is he.’

    Jiho dispatched another zombie with brutal precision, driving the sharp edge of his weapon into the creature’s throat before forcing it upward, slicing through to its brain. Blood splattered the walls as he yanked the makeshift knife free, just in time to face the next wave of attackers.

    One zombie lunged at him, arms wide, ready to grapple.

    ‘Jesus fuck, I’ve seen that grapple too many times already! They’re all the same!’ Jiho thought as he braced himself, diving into the attack. But before the zombie could grab him, Jiho shoved it with violent force, sending it staggering backward. Seizing the moment, he rushed in and drove his weapons into the creature’s skull, piercing through its ear canals.

    ‘They always go for that same grapple—arms up, trying to trap you and bite. If you hit them hard enough to knock them off balance, they stumble and take a second or two to recover. Got it.’ Jiho analyzed, his mind racing as the next zombie stepped over the body of the one he had just killed.

    ‘Come on… do your grapple.’ He thought, eyeing the creature intently.

    But as the zombie raised one arm, Jiho lunged again… only to realize too late that it hadn’t lifted the other.

    No, this one wasn’t lunging—it was swinging.

    It was throwing a punch.

    “WHAT!?” Jiho cried out as the zombie’s hand slashed across his chest, leaving a bloody gash and tearing through his shirt.

    Amélie gasped, her hands flying to her mouth in horror as her face drained of color. Her wide eyes fixated on Jiho, disbelief written on her pale features.

    “N-… Non…!” Amélie whispered into her palms, her voice trembling.

    “No… That young man… just got infected!” Marcel murmured in alarm, a wave of anxiety washing over him as Jiho staggered back, blood spurting against the wall.

    ‘I had no idea they could attack like that… It’s as if that hellspawn saw Monsieur Jiho as a real threat, not just prey!’ Marcel thought, his heart racing.

    “Shit… That thing can throw hands now!?” Jiho muttered, facing the zombie head-on, his mind spinning as he reassessed his situation.

  • 14th Death: French Family

    It was a rainy afternoon, and Jiho and Eunhee were huddled under the small awning outside the convenience store. They were in middle school, and had just finished a long day of exams. The rain poured down in thick sheets, making the world beyond them a blur of gray and white.

    “Are you okay, Jiho?” Eunhee questioned as she looked at him.

    “Huh? Y-yeah… I mean, it’s raining… You know I hate the rain.” Jiho murmured, snapping his head to her.

    “I know, but that isn’t what’s bothering you. I can tell.”

    “How…?” Jiho said as he pulled his head back a bit, “Are you stalking me?”

    “N-NO! OF COURSE NOT, DUMMY!!” She pouted as she hit his arm lightly.

    Jiho let out a soft chuckle, with Eunhee letting out a frustrated hum as she pouted.

    “… I just know.” She continued, her tone serious. “I won’t tell you how, but it’s your face. That’s all I’ll say about it.”

    “Oh, come on, tell me!” Jiho replied, his curiousity piqued.

    “NO~. You were just being mean to me, so I won’t. I’m angry now.” She said as she looked away.

    “Well, FINE! I know you’re not angry, and that you’re not saying anything because you just love it when everyone bow for you like a know-it-all princess!” Jiho blurted.

    “HOW RUDE!! NOW, I’M ACTUALLY ANGRY!” She spat out.

    “BE ANGRY, THEN!” Jiho spat back, and the two looked away, folding their arms with a decisive “Hmph.”

    After a few seconds of silence, Eunhee let out, “So…? What happened? If you tell me, I won’t be angry anymore.”

    “… Had a fight with my dad on the phone. I didn’t want to come his house today, and it got him mad.” Jiho said, sighing, “He never really cared about me coming to visit him a few years ago… I wonder what happened… Guess he thinks I’m a bad kid now…?” Jiho said, his voice trailing off as he looked down.

    “You’re not bad, Jiho!” She defiantly argued, “I love my mom much more than my dad too!” She said, almost enthusiastically so.

    “Well, your dad is…” Jiho started, only to cut himself off as he looked at her attentive gaze.

    “…”

    “…”

    “… Never mind.” He said, looking away once more.

    “No, say it.” Eunhee insisted.

    “I won’t.”

    “Why not?” She challenged, “Say what you wanted to say.”
    “NO!” He argued.

    “Why not, then!?” She pressed.

    “Because I know that will make you angry. I don’t even need to see your face.”

    “And it’s cool with just me being angry right now… So… Sorry.” He replied silently.

    Eunhee then gasped lightly at his words, feeling her anger dissipate and flow out into the rain.

    “Hey, Jiho.” Eunhee said as she tapped his shoulder lightly, turning his attention back at her.

    “What if… What if one day we don’t understand each other like this anymore? What if something really bad happens?” She murmured.

    “What does THAT mean!?” Jiho said, narrowing his eyes at her.

    “JUST ANSWER!” She insisted, slamming her fists against her thighs, startling Jiho; causing him to pull himself back a bit.

    “Hmm…” Jiho hummed as he pursed his lips

    “I mean, we fight a lot…” Jiho muttered, “But that’s why we have Daniel. He always makes peace… So if we don’t understand each other anymore and don’t know what to do we’ll just ask him.” He said confidently.

    “Oh… You think we should?” She muttered.

    “Yeah. If we can’t understand each other, just ask Daniel.” He echoed himself, “He’s really reliable, after all; and he’s my best friend!” Jiho replied with a smile.

    “Oh, so he knows me better than you do?” She challenged quietly.

    “N-NO!” Jiho jumped, stuttering with a small flinch, his eyes almost on full alert as he looked at her.

    Eunhee then chuckled as she looked at his flustered reaction.

    Jiho then blushed as he turned his eyes away.

    “S-shut up…” He murmured as Eunhee looked at him, grinning in silent satisfaction.

    “I just… Trust him. So I’m just saying if you trust me, you can trust him…” Jiho said.

    “If there’s something you feel like you can’t say to me, just tell him; and he’ll help you.” Jiho added.

    “Because he’s the best guy ever.”

    —————————————

    Jiho splashed more water from the sink onto his face, trying to wash away the memories.

    “Man, I’m such an idiot,” he muttered, watching the zombie blood swirl down the drain.

    [Ah, already accepting your limits so soon after your transformation… I’m so proud. ❤ But on a more serious note, can you listen for a second? I have something important—]

    “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Jiho snapped, waving the message prompt away. He leaned heavily on the sink, his brows knitting together in frustration.

    ‘If only younger me knew: “A shoulder to cry on becomes a dick to ride on.”‘ he thought bitterly as he stared at his reflection. ‘He’d never have said those words.’

    His teeth clenched, anger building.

    ‘Don’t play dumb, you knew that saying even back then! You knew it a few hours ago, but you’d still answer her the same way if she asked again.’ His fists tightened as he glared at himself in the mirror.

    ‘You backstabbing motherfucker… WHY!?’ His mind spiraled back to the memory of Daniel and Eunhee’s unspoken connection, their subtle glances, the public display of affection. He replayed the moment when he’d asked if they slept well, how Eunhee looked embarrassed, sneaking a glance at Daniel, brushing it off as nerves about the day ahead.

    With a crack, Jiho slammed his fist against the sink, a fracture appearing in the ceramic. ‘Those bastards probably had sex that day too…’

    [Oof, really didn’t like that sink, huh?] The message flashed as soon as the sink cracked.

    ‘… And they did it behind my back? Are you fucking serious!?’ Jiho slumped over, curling in on himself, forehead pressed against his arms as he leaned on the sink.

    [Come on, did you hurt your hand or something?] The message popped up with a chime but faded when Jiho didn’t respond, his head still bowed.

    [Boyo, this is getting absurd… I really need to tell you something…]

    His thoughts drifted to how many girlfriends Daniel had over the years, the ease with which he drew them in.

    And now… ‘Eunhee.’

    ‘So she’s just another one,’ he thought, fists trembling with renewed tension.

    ‘She’ll go to Daniel like all the other girls. Because that’s all she ever was…’ The realization cut deep as he remembered the smiles, the secrets they’d shared, the comfort he felt whenever he was with her.

    ‘… Just a chick. Nothing more… Just like I was just Jiho…’ The words tasted bitter, and his anger began to falter, cracking under the weight of doubt. ‘I guess… I just wasn’t good enough for her…’

    The thought hit harder than he expected, lodging itself deep, twisting like a knife he couldn’t pull out. He tried to shove it aside, but it clung to him. ‘Am I… am I getting this wrong…? This is Eunhee… She… She must’ve seen something in him… something she never saw in me…’

    His chest tightened, ‘Something that made her trust him, fall for him like that…’ The image of them together seared into his mind. ‘Hold him like that… let him hold her like that…’

    ‘I guess… I just wasn’t worth her time.’

    For a moment, everything seemed to stop. Silence. Then, the flicker of anger reignited, sharper now. His gaze hardened as he stared into the mirror, fists tightening once again, as if drawing strength from the fragments of his rage.

    ‘But you made one more error, Daniel,’ he thought, fire returning to his eyes. His fists pulsed with renewed energy.

    [Whoa, who broke your heart, boyo?] The message popped up as Jiho stared at his reflection.

    “You slapped me,” he blurted, touching his cheek where Daniel had slapped him.

    [… I DIDN’T THOUGH!? MAYBE I SHOULD TRY, SINCE YOU’RE WORRYING ME..!]

    “And right now… I’m strong,” he continued, tightening his fist.

    [… Alright. You do you. You obviously have some issues, boyo. When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be (unfortunately) here; acting as your comical relief in the meantime.] The message flashed as Jiho ignored it.

    ‘And in this world where there are no rules anymore… No… M-mom to stop me…’ His eyes momentarily contorted in sadness, ‘… and definitely no more friends to hold me back… I can break your jaw like it was cardboard, if you’re not already dead.’ He prepared his fist to strike the mirror.

    “Prepare yourself…!! You motherfucke—”

    “Monsieur?” The door suddenly snapped open, a mature voice calling out. Jiho immediately lowered his fist just before it connected with the mirror.

    “Ahem, we heard quite a jarring noise and thought something had happened…” Marcel said in Korean, his eyes scanning the room, quickly noticing the cracked ceramic surface beside Jiho.

    “Is everything alright?” he asked, his tone gentle but cautious.

    Jiho’s eyes snapped to the crack, and he instinctively placed his palm over it. “Yeah. I’ll come out in a bit… I slipped on something,” he muttered, his voice low and raspy as he stared down at the sink.

    [HIS OWN BRAINS, BUTLER.]

    “Very well. Take your time,” Marcel replied softly, closing the door behind him.

    ‘Damn old fart, interrupting me like that…’ Jiho clicked his tongue, frustrated by the intrusion as he glared at his reflection in the mirror—pristine, yet mocking.

    “… Get yourself together.” He exhaled deeply, trying to ground himself.

    [Difficulty: Impossible] The message flickered before his eyes.

    ‘There will be bigger mirrors to break in the future, I bet…’ He thought, the rush of bashing zombie skulls surging back into his mind. ‘… While I’m at it, there’ll be more heads to crush.’

    He ran a hand over his face and chest, feeling his pulse thumping steadily beneath his skin.

    ‘… My heart’s still beating. Aside from my face, everything feels normal. Except… I really wanna kill some fucking zombies right now…’ His teeth clenched as he tore his gaze from the mirror, moving toward the exit of the bathroom. ‘Sentient Zombie, my ass.’ He internally dissed the message prompt.

    A message floated just behind him:

    [ZOMBIFICATION: 0.016%]

    ‘… At least my eyes are back to normal. I can blend in with humans again,’ he mused, feeling a faint sense of relief. ‘As for them, I’ll just ditch them and go hunt some more zombies. I’m not babysitting strangers out of the goodness of my heart. If my best friend could betray me, what’s stopping these two?’

    The bitter thought clung to him as he reached for the door. He hadn’t even finished it when—

    A pair of palms clasped his arms, lifting them upward with almost too much enthusiasm, cutting off his line of thought.

    “What the—”

    “Lady Amélie, s’il vous plaît, ne dérangez pas ce jeune homme!” Marcel called out worriedly, his voice urging her to step back from Jiho.

    Jiho quickly lifted his gaze, noticing the young lady standing just an inch away from him. She was gently holding his hands together, a huge smile lighting up her face as she stared directly into his eyes. Her striking blue eyes glowed with an almost ethereal intensity, framed by smooth, flowing blonde hair that cascaded down her shoulders. She was dressed in elegant, fancy clothing—her attire almost too pristine for the chaotic world they were in, making her seem out of place, like a noble from another era.

    “W-wha…” Jiho’s eyes widened as he met her gaze, her voice cutting through his confusion.

    “Merci beaucoup de nous avoir sauvés!” Amélie exclaimed, practically trembling with excitement.

    [OOOOOOOH, LOOKIE HERE, Boyo! I didn’t know you had it in you!]

    ‘W-what is she…?’ Jiho’s thoughts scrambled. ‘I know “merci beaucoup” means thanks in French… Is she thanking me?’ He glanced down at her hands, noting how boldly and unapologetically she clasped his. Her fingers were delicate, yet her grip was surprisingly firm, the contrast between her refined appearance and her excitement leaving him even more flustered.

    ‘But… she’s way too close!’ His heart raced, struggling to process the closeness. ‘Is this how foreigners greet each other?’ A blush crept onto his cheeks.

    “I, uh… I don’t speak French,” Jiho stammered, turning his eyes away in embarrassment. “I know the first part is a thank you, but… I didn’t come here to save you. Like I said, I thought you were someone else and just happened to pass by…” His voice trembled slightly.

    ‘Damn it, stop shaking! You just killed a bunch of zombies, Jiho! You swore you’d be bolder from now on! Just tell her off…!’ He steeled himself, looking back at Amélie—only to find his resolve immediately crumbling.

    ‘Tsche, she’s blinding me… Is she prettier than Eunh—’ He thought, his blush deepening as he averted his eyes again. Her glowing blue eyes and golden hair seemed to almost radiate, making her presence overwhelming. Suddenly, an unwelcome memory flashed before his eyes.

    “Ah, Jiho, I did my hair today… Did that excite you?” Eunhee teased.

    “N-NO… Who’d get excited over that…” Jiho muttered, turning away bashfully.

    “Sheesh, I got excited. That’s a good hairdo, Eunhee,” Daniel chimed in with a whistle.

    “See, at least Daniel speaks his mind!” Eunhee said, playfully arguing.

    Jiho’s teeth clenched at the memory. Anger rose from deep within him, spreading like wildfire.

    “LET GO OF ME!” Jiho growled, shoving Amélie away with sudden force. He violently shook his head, eyes squeezed shut, as if trying to block out the memory.

    “Ah!” Amélie gasped, stumbling slightly as she regained her balance, her expression shifting to one of concern.

    “Lady Amélie…!” Marcel called out, rising from the sofa despite the pain radiating from his dislocated shoulder, which had been injured only minutes ago.

    Jiho’s eyes narrowed, glaring at Amélie as his mind replaced her with Eunhee’s image. ‘I’m not excited… I’ll NEVER be excited over you again… You’re just… just another girl in the crowd. Just a bitch,’ he thought bitterly.

    His fists clenched tighter as the painful memories resurfaced. ‘You could’ve at least told me you were dating him,’ he thought, anger bubbling beneath the surface. ‘Told me you had a thing for him this whole time, instead of… Instead of…!!’

    The image of Eunhee smiling and acting as if everything was normal flashed in his mind, twisting the knife deeper. His brows furrowed, and he looked down, fists trembling by his sides.

    An uncomfortable silence settled between them, neither side knowing how to proceed. Jiho finally broke the stillness with a deep breath.

    “…Just tell me what you need, and we’ll be on our merry way,” he muttered, refusing to meet Amélie’s eyes as he directed his words toward Marcel.

    “… Very well, young man,” the butler replied in Korean, his voice steady despite his pain. “Let us talk.”

  • Death The 13th: Amelie

    [Hazy here. Originally named this chapter this way cuz I didn’t want to waste the opporunity to do something with 13. Hope you enjoy!]

    “Lady Amélie…!!” Marcel called out, straining against the door as the dead pounded on it relentlessly, dozens of them slamming their decaying bodies against the fragile barrier.

    “Marcel!! Leave the door and come with me!! Please!!” a young girl cried out from several meters inside the apartment, her voice trembling with desperation as she begged her butler to escape with her.

    ‘CURSES…!’ Marcel thought, gasping for breath as he struggled to keep the door shut. ‘Someone screamed, which riled up these hellspawns and led them straight to us in this apartment…!’

    His grip tightened on the door, his muscles straining as the dead continued their assault. ‘And what terrible luck… If only we had the key to lock the door, I could’ve joined the young miss…!’ he thought bitterly.

    “Lady Amélie… You must go now!” Marcel, an elderly man with a neat white mustache and neatly combed white hair, dressed in his formal tuxedo, instructed her as he fought against the horde. His voice was strained, but resolute. “Leave through the window, and make your way to the apartment to the left. I will hold them off to buy you time! You must go now, before my strength gives out!!”

    “No!! I can’t leave without you, Marcel!! Come with me, please!!” Amélie sobbed, her hands clasped together as she knelt in desperation, tears streaming down her face.

    “LADY Amélie!!” The butler’s voice boomed, cutting through her cries and forcing her to snap her gaze toward him, her whole attention locked on his stern face.

    “You are the successor of the Montmorency family!” he shouted, his voice carrying both authority and urgency. “In a few years, you will take your father’s place and rule over the entire company! Your fate isn’t to fall here, and certainly not because of someone as lowly as me!”

    Marcel’s words hung heavy in the air as Amélie’s sobbing quieted. The weight of her future crashed down on her, her body trembling in response.

    “I’ve always felt that such a fate was too cruel,” Marcel continued, his tone softening, though his grip on the door never wavered. “That everyone’s expectations of you were unjust and unfair. You’re still a young girl, and you should be enjoying your youth while you still have it. That’s why, when I was tasked with being your guardian, I did everything I could to give you a childhood worth remembering… something to be fond of!”

    “Mar…cel…” she muttered, her voice barely audible as her tears mixed with snot, her sobs turning into pitiful hiccups.

    “But our world is a cruel one, and this is your cue to grow up prematurely… to become the fairest young lady I always knew you could be!” Marcel gritted his teeth as he leaned harder against the door, every muscle in his body straining as zombie hands began to squirm through the narrow opening.

    Amélie, paralyzed by fear, stood up and involuntarily stepped back toward the high window.

    “But… I… I can’t live without you!! I wouldn’t know what to do!! I’m… powerless without you next to me!” she cried, her voice breaking as her tears flowed freely.

    “You are stronger…!” Marcel roared, his strength waning as he held the door with every last ounce of willpower. “Stronger than you realize, my lady! You are so strong, that you’ve mended this broken heart of mine… a heart ragged and torn from war and bitterness… You showed me what happiness and bliss truly are!!” His voice trembled, his life flashing before his eyes.

    Years earlier…

    “Marcel. This is my daughter. Train her and groom her to be a proper lady. Protect her. She will someday take my place,” the lord commanded from his throne, signaling his 6-year-old daughter to step forward. Marcel, a war-worn veteran, stood uneasily in front of him.

    “My Lord,” Marcel began, “I am hardly a man who knows how to handle children. I know war, and only war. Please, I beseech you—let me strike at our competitors, and I shall—”

    “Marcel,” the lord interrupted, crossing his legs as he reclined in his cushioned chair. “Do you question my authority?”

    “You know I do not, My Lord. The one I question is myself,” Marcel replied with a respectful bow.

    “That is the same, Marcel,” the lord said calmly. “I chose you. When you question yourself, you question my judgment.” He rose from his seat and descended the steps to stand face to face with the butler.

    “My… apologies,” Marcel murmured, his gaze lowered. It was then that the lord placed a firm hand on Marcel’s shoulder.

    “I will be busy from now on. I won’t be home much, and as you know, her mother has recently passed,” the lord said, his voice firm, but with a tinge of sorrow as he met Marcel’s eyes. “I need someone responsible and strong to look after her. You are the best I have, Marcel. I know you can do it. Please.”

    Marcel looked into the lord’s gaze, seeing the quiet, somber determination in his eyes.

    “Very well, My Lord,” Marcel said, his voice resolute. “Leave this little one’s growth to me.”

    The lord stepped aside, giving Marcel room to approach the young Amélie. He knelt down before her, his weathered eyes softening as he looked at the emotionless child.

    “Hello, young miss. My name is Marcel. What is your name?”

    “Amélie,” she muttered flatly, her eyes dull and devoid of feeling.

    ‘When I looked into your eyes for the first time, I didn’t see a hopeless young girl too soft for this world…’

    ‘I saw myself. I saw someone who had seen too much loss and death for one lifetime.’

    ‘And I knew that while I couldn’t be fixed… perhaps I could still save this one from becoming as hopeless as I.’

    “Hello, Lady Amélie,” Marcel had said, smiling warmly. “I am Marcel. Let us get along,” he added, gently raising her small palm and enveloping it with both of his gloved hands.

    ‘My only regret…’

    ‘Is that I wasn’t able to protect that smile of yours… that innocence you had, for just a few more years… just a little longer…’ Marcel thought, his eyes fluttering closed, Amélie’s bright smile flashing through his mind.

    “Marcel!” The memory of her voice echoed, young and full of joy, as she had run to him, her butler, in the castle garden. They were surrounded by blooming flowers, intricate bush statues, and the soft melody of a flowing fountain. She had embraced him, and in that moment, the world had felt whole.

    ‘I’ve never had children of my own… and this is blasphemous to say, a complete disrespect to the Lord, but… After all these years with you, Lady Amélie… this is how I feel.’

    “You are my daughter,” he whispered in his mind, “and I love you with all of my heart… So go. Live on! And show the world what you’re made of…!!”

    “Marcel hick… I’ll sob… I’ll do it…!! I’ll live on…!!!” Amélie cried helplessly, stumbling backward toward the window. Her tear-filled eyes were locked on Marcel, watching him as he strained to hold the door, his strength faltering with every second.

    ‘That… is fine… very fine…’ Marcel thought as Amélie opened the window and began crawling out. Her gaze never left him, even as his body wavered, on the verge of collapse.

    Suddenly, the door burst open with a thunderous crash, and three undead creatures surged through, spilling into the room. Marcel’s strength gave out, and he stumbled back, the door flying off its hinges and crashing down on top of him. He lay flat on his back, his arm dislocated, pinned beneath the heavy door as the apartment floor met his gaze.

    “MARCEL!!!” Amélie screamed, her voice full of anguish as she watched the undead advance. One of the zombies reached behind the unhinged door, its decaying hand clawing toward Marcel, who lay helplessly beneath the weight.

    ‘Goodbye… Lady Amélie,’ Marcel thought as he braced for the inevitable.

    [BACKGROUND MUSIC: “WHO DO YOU VOODOO” – SAM B]

    “LIKE HELL YOU ARE!!” A scream erupted from behind them as a metal pipe smashed into the skull of the zombie closest to Marcel, caving in its head.

    ‘Fuck…! I heard a girl screaming, so I came to this apartment on the 9th floor… It doesn’t seem like she’s here!’ Jiho thought, thinking of Misaki. Meanwhile, Amélie’s eyes widened, a glimmer of hope shining through her fear as she gasped, watching the zombie Jiho struck reel away from Marcel. She took in the sight of the blood-covered young man, gritting his teeth as he urgently smacked the undead away from the old butler.

    ‘A savior…!’ she thought, clinging to that fragile hope.

    If only Jiho felt as hopeful as she did…

    ‘But what’s wrong with me!? Why am I not as strong as I was earlier!?’ Jiho wondered in frustration as the second zombie lunged at him. The first, its brain spilling through its eye socket, turned toward him with a gurgling growl.

    Hearing the sudden outcry, Marcel peeked from beneath the door. He saw a young man wielding a metal pipe, struggling with the undead as the zombie’s decaying brain matter dripped down its mangled face.

    “Get the hell off me!!” Jiho snarled, wrenching the zombie’s arm off his own with surprising strength. With a fierce swing, he slammed the pipe into the side of its head. The zombie toppled into the wall, its skull crashing against the plaster, blood splattering on impact.

    ‘That young man…’ Marcel’s eyes widened. ‘He yanked that hellspawn’s grip off like it was a child’s… He’s strong! Abnormally so, considering the strength of these creatures!’ He quickly crawled out from under the door, clutching his dislocated arm.

    Suddenly, the third zombie lunged at Jiho.

    ‘FUCK… I didn’t notice! ‘Jiho panicked, dropping the pipe as the zombie tackled him, forcing him into a desperate struggle.

    [YOU WOULD KNOW IF YOU STOPPED IGNORING ME—]

    “SHIT… EVEN SO, YOU AIN’T GONNA KILL ME!!!” Jiho roared, grabbing the zombie by the neck and slamming it against the kitchen wall, ignoring the flashing message prompt. He smashed its head repeatedly into the wall, blood smearing with each impact.

    But as Jiho fought the third zombie, the first—its brain leaking through the shattered skull—slowly rose again. With a guttural snarl, it stumbled toward Jiho’s nape, completely unnoticed.

    “NON, LADY AMÉLIE!!” Marcel shouted in French.

    “Prends ça!” [TAKE THAT!] Amélie cried, summoning every ounce of her courage. She grabbed the fallen metal pipe and swung with all her might at the zombie’s head.

    The blow… bounced off.

    ‘It’s like hitting metal…!’ she thought in horror, as the zombie turned its bloodied, hungry gaze toward her.

    “LADY AMÉLIE, COUREZ!!!” Marcel screamed, struggling to his feet as the zombie placed its hand on her shoulder.

    “N-Non…!” [No…!] Amélie stuttered as the zombie leaned in, preparing to bite her neck…

    But little did it know…

    Jiho had turned to face the threat after completely smashing the other zombie’s head into pulp.

    ‘I’d rather not use a move from that backstabber’s book… but I’ve got no choice…!’ Jiho thought, recalling one of Daniel’s fighting techniques. In a swift motion, he yanked the zombie’s head into an armlock.

    “Ah…!” Amélie gasped as the zombie shifted its focus to Jiho—releasing its grip on her—only to find itself at a severe disadvantage.

    “RAAEERRGHH!!!” the zombie growled, gnashing its teeth, trying to chomp at Jiho.

    “You fucker… Come to die!!” Jiho snarled as he dragged the zombie toward the kitchen, still holding it in an arm lock. His eyes darted around the room, quickly landing on a wooden knife stand.

    ‘To think… He’s strong enough to overpower a hellspawn’s strength and endurance…! Remarkable!’ Marcel thought in awe as Jiho reached for a knife, knocking the stand to the ground.

    “Go… to sleep… FUCKER!!!” Jiho roared, driving the knife deep into the zombie’s head.

    The creature immediately lost all strength, crumpling to the ground.

    Jiho gasped for breath, his chest heaving, before stomping past Amélie to the zombie whose head he had already smashed with the pipe. Without hesitation, he finished it off by plunging the knife into its skull.

    He straightened up, wiping the sweat and blood from his brow as he glanced at both of them.

    “Uh… Hi.” Jiho asked awkwardly as he breathed.

  • 12th Death: Midnight

    “I’m still alive…” Jiho murmured, catching his reflection in Misaki’s bathroom mirror. His hunger and headache gnawed at him, intensifying with each passing moment.

    “…But…” He stepped closer to the mirror, narrowing his gaze.

    “I look a little paler, and… my pupils… they’re completely red.” He muttered, pulling his eyelid down to examine his eyes more closely.

    “Must be part of the infection, right? I’m really dying now… Shit, it feels like it…” he wondered aloud, stepping back from the mirror.

    [DEPENDS ON YOUR DEFINITION OF DYING, BOYO.]

    A message suddenly popped up in front of his face, startling him.

    [Besides, I told you, you’re already a zombie! IF YOU STOPPED IGNORING ME, YOU’D UNDERSTAND THAT!!!]

    ‘Great. I’m about to die,’ Jiho thought, resigning himself as the headache throbbed harder, making him squeeze his eyes shut.

    [DEPENDS ON WHAT YOU’LL DO—]

    Jiho snapped his head away from the message. “I’m even hallucinating now… Alright, death, any moment now, let’s get this over with.”

    [BOYO, I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU DON’T LISTEN—] The message flashed again, more insistent.

    “No, YOU LISTEN!” Jiho exploded, clutching his head in frustration. “I’ve had a really bad day, you hear me?!”

    His voice boomed through the small bathroom. “First, I find out my friend cucked me behind my back—yeah, even though me and Eunhee weren’t a thing, it feels like it. Then I get bitten by a zombie, and now there’s a freakin’ apocalypse and my mom is probably dead!”

    […]

    [Woah… your life really sucks.] The message reappeared, almost sympathetically.

    ‘And now I’m hallucinating. Fantastic,’ Jiho thought, waving the prompt away. ‘There’s no way I’m buying this manhwa-like nonsense. Come on, brain, get serious. This isn’t That Time I Got Bitten By A Zombie and Became God With An Overpowered System and Got ALL The Bitches. This is clearly just my mind trying to comfort me before the end…’

    [I mean, REALLY sucks.]

    “… Yeah, has to be that,” Jiho started, losing his balance as he made his way out of the bathroom, leaning against every wall along the path.

    [Has to be what?]

    “… I’m all alone. Misaki’s not here, either,” he murmured, stepping out of the bathroom.

    [You’ll just keep ignoring me, huh?]

    ‘… So where is she?’ Jiho thought, averting his gaze from the bold message, pretending it wasn’t there as he scanned the room, the window shutters tightly shut.

    [FINE. BE THAT WAY. I won’t give you tips on how to make use of your zombification then, HMPH! EVEN IF YOU BEG WHEN YOU’RE AT DOOR’S DOORSTEP, I WON’T HELP YOU!]

    ‘Death’s doorstep…’ Jiho corrected in resignation, shaking his head as he turned away from the insistent message.

    [You just looked at me, didn’t you!? You just corrected me inside your head, DIDN’T YOU!?]

    Ignoring it again, he mused, ‘If I’m gonna die anyway, I at least wanna ask her out. She was cute… and she kinda looks like Eunhee. Does she even like younger guys?’ He scanned the house for clues—maybe a phone, an address book, or a diary—something to give him a hint as to where she might have gone.

    After making a brief inspection of the house, he wandered back to the living room. His eyes landed on a small yellow note, sticking out from beneath the couch.

    ‘Was this on the table earlier…? Must’ve dropped it when I tripped,’ he thought as he bent down to pick it up.

    The note read: [JIHO. If you read this, then you fainted. If you’re still not a zombie, good. I went to check on our neighbors. Be back in a few minutes. Don’t become a zombie until I return. Don’t be a zombie even after I return, if you read this. Please. You probably are though.] The handwriting seemed strained, likely due to her unfamiliarity with the language.

    ‘When did she go outside?’ Jiho wondered, noticing moonlight filtering through the cracks of the closed shutters.

    ‘Did she write this a few minutes ago? Or… A few hours ago? It was pretty early when we got here and when I fainted….’ His gaze then wandered to the door.

    ‘For some reason, I feel like waiting here to find out isn’t the right option.’ He tucked the note in his pants and walked towards the door.

    ‘…’ He placed his palm on the doorknob, hesitant.

    “Be bold,” He murmured to himself. “You’re gonna die anyway. No one will remember you. So just…”

    And as he breathed, an unfamiliar surge of irritation struck him.

     “Just fucking go.” He resolved, pressing the door handle and leaving the apartment.

    ‘Ah right… That ringing noise that woke me up sounded like a phone… But I didn’t see my phone in there.. Well, whatever. Must’ve been my imagination. Who could’ve called me?’

    He then stepped into the dark hallway…

    … completely unaware of the dent left in the metallic handle that he made as he pressed it.

    completely unaware of the dent left in the metallic handle that he made as he pressed it

    It was dark. The lights in the hallway had been turned off, leaving only the dim glow from Misaki’s apartment spilling out into the corridor. No chatter, no movement. Silence, save for the faint hum of the building. But the floor… the floor was littered with bodies—too many to count.

    No, Jiho couldn’t tell which were zombies and which were the residents.

    ‘Shit… What happened here? Where is everyone?’ he thought, as he cautiously stepped forward, trying his hardest not to stumble onto a corpse. His vision grew shaky, blurred by the increasing intensity of his headache and gnawing hunger. He faintly recalled walking through this same hallway earlier, following Misaki after they stepped out of the elevator. There had been families, mostly older people. It wasn’t the kind of building where young people gathered.

    As he skipped through the gorefest, a gnawing thought lodged itself in his mind: ‘What was a beauty like her doing in a place like this…?’

    …And whether her body was hidden somewhere in the heap of the dead.

    ‘Should… Should I check…?’ His gaze swept across the hallway, bodies strewn everywhere, too many to count. There had clearly been some kind of struggle.

    ‘There are plenty… but not too many. At the very least, I’ll make sure she’s not among them,’ he thought, swallowing his discomfort.

    ‘It’s not like I have time. No, I am in a hurry. I need to know if she’s okay before I… before I become a zombie,’ he thought, his eyes darting down to the bandage wrapped around his wound.

    Suddenly, a sharp, excruciating pain pierced through his head.

    “Argh… MY HEAD…!!!” Jiho screamed, dropping to his knees as the agony spiked. His body tensed as the pain coursed through him, his hunger intensifying along with it.

    [MINDLESS ZOMBIFICATION IN PROGRESS! IGNORING YOUR NEEDS HAS TRIGGERED A ZOMBIFICATION PROCESS. ONCE COMPLETE, YOUR SENSE OF SELF WILL BE STRIPPED AWAY, AND YOU WILL BECOME A MINDLESS ZOMBIE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!! MAY GOD HAVE MERCY ON YOUR SOUL, BECAUSE YOU WON’T DISCOVER HOW TO STOP IT. YOU WERE RUDE, SO I WON’T BOTHER TELLING YOU!]

    The message flashed before his eyes, cold and mocking.

    ‘Is… is this it!? Am I becoming a zombie!?’

    [ZOMBIFICATION: 16%]

    As Jiho knelt in pain, a body stirred from the pile of corpses about ten meters behind him.

    [ZOMBIFICATION: 36%]

    “Ahh…!” His body jerked, snapping around to see a figure standing near the entrance to Misaki’s room, just out of sight from where he’d been moments ago.

    [ZOMBIFICATION: 68%]

    “Who…!?” Jiho gasped, his headache intensifying, blood starting to seep from his eyes. Every vein in his body felt like it was being pulled apart, stretched to the point of tearing.

    “Grrrgh…!!” He grunted, gritting his teeth as the pain worsened.

    “W-… Who’s there!?” he shouted, his legs rooted to the spot.

    A piercing shriek rang out from the figure, who suddenly charged forward with terrifying speed, sprinting toward Jiho.

    [ZOMBIFICATION: 88%]

    As the figure passed through the light spilling from Misaki’s room, Jiho got his first clear look…

    That decaying face, blood splattered all over its body, torn gymnastics clothes, lips ripped apart, and those hollow, soulless eyes.

    “Z-… Zombie!” Jiho whispered as he staggered back. ‘And… He… HE CAN RUN!?’

    He remembered how the other zombies he’d encountered had merely shuffled toward him. This one was a bullet, barreling straight at him.

    [ZOMBIFICATION: 95%]

    ‘Wait,’ Jiho thought, freezing in place. ‘I’m already infected… I’m… already dead… So why… why should I run?’

    The zombie closed in, now inches away. Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

    ‘I’m going to die anyway…’

    [96%]

    ‘I’ll never get to Daniel or Eunhee… or probably to Misaki again…’

    ‘Everyone I know is dead!’ He clenched his fists, muscles tightening as blood vessels erupted beneath his skin. His vision blurred with red as he choked on his own blood.

    [98%]

    ‘So…’

    Jiho gritted his teeth, pulling his bleeding shoulder back, skin peeling away as he moved.

    “You’re not Daniel…” he muttered to the oncoming zombie, every muscle in his body tense, trembling.

    “…But I can pretend like you are!” he growled, the words laced with venom.

    With a roar, Jiho threw his punch, his entire life flashing before his eyes.

    [99%]

    =========================

    “I’m going out with Daniel…”#% 

    “you’RE NOT A MaN”#%#$ 

    “Thank yo#%#%u for trusting me, Jiho.”6#$%#%# “Now everything belongs t#%##o me…”%#$

    “…Mommy will always believe in you, Jiho.”

    “..!!” Jiho saw his mom’s visage before his eyes.

    “So try your best, okay? Don’t stay out too late…” Her voice was soft, familiar, kneeling down as she always did, patting his cheek with a gentle smile.

    “Otherwise, mommy will be sad…”

    ==========================

    “…Mom…!” Jiho murmured.

    [100%! YOU FEEL YOUR CONSCIOUSNESS SLIP AWAY! YOU ARE NOW A ZOMB—]

    But just then, Jiho’s fist connected with the zombie’s face. His eyes were shut tight, expecting his punch to barely slow the creature down, expecting the zombie to tear into his neck at any moment.

    He didn’t realize, in that instant…

    …that the zombie’s jaw had dislocated. Its bones shattered from the impact, and its entire jawline snapped clean off.

    The zombie was launched several meters backward, flung away by the sheer force of Jiho’s punch.

    [O_O]

    “Haah… Haah…” Jiho huffed, chest rising and falling, his eyes still shut—waiting for the zombie to lunge at him.

    ‘What…? Where’s the zombie…?’ He slowly opened his eyes, confused, seeing the zombie tumbling backward… several meters away.

    “What…?”

    ‘No way… I… I did that?’

    His gaze dropped to his arms just as the realization washed over him. What he had felt since waking up wasn’t hunger for human flesh, nor was the headache purely from the infection.

    A headache that, strangely, now felt lighter. His bones and muscles… felt more alive than ever.

    [CONDITION MET!!! LETTING OUT YOUR INNER FURY IN A DEVASTATING BLOW HAS SEALED YOUR FATE! YOU ARE NOW A ZOMBIE SLAYER!] A message appeared before him, clear as day.

    “So what should you do?” Misaki’s voice echoed from the corner of his eye.

    “So what should I do…!!?” Jiho repeated, his voice rising as his eyes locked on the zombie, which was slowly staggering to its feet again, starting another clumsy run toward him.

    That’s when Jiho realized what was really stirring within him: scarlet rage, desperate to surge through every fiber of his being.

    [BACKGROUND MUSIC: DOPE – DIE, MOTHERFUCKER, DIE]

    He clenched his teeth, every muscle in his body tightening with raw fury.

    In a way, it was hunger—hunger to see flesh and blood pour out of that wretched zombie as a direct result of his own actions.

    Just like he would have done to Daniel… if he’d had the chance.

    [BECAUSE YOU’VE MET YOUR CONDITION AT 100%, YOU HAVE UNLOCKED…] A new message flashed.

    But Jiho was too far gone—way too angry to care what it said.

    “SO WHAT SHOULD I DO…!!!!”

    “DAAAAAAAAANIEEEELLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!” Jiho screamed, sending a powerful left hook into the zombie’s decaying jaw. His fist connected with brutal force, sending the creature flying sideways, crashing through an apartment door. The wooden frame splintered, and the zombie’s body smashed against the floor, its head twisted at an unnatural angle. But it wasn’t enough for Jiho.

    Rage boiled within him—fueled by Daniel’s betrayal, Eunhee’s confession, and the weight of years of trust that had led to his downfall. The primal urge to destroy surged through him, leaving no room for hesitation.

    He lunged forward, grabbing the zombie by the throat and slamming its head into the ground. Over and over again, he screamed, “Fucker! Fucker! FUCKER!!! I TRUSTED YOU!!!” until the skull caved in, blood and brain matter splattering across the floor.

    “Good… Haaah… Just one isn’t enough!” Jiho spat, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He needed more.

    As if on cue, more zombies began to stir in the hallway, drawn to the noise. Jiho’s red eyes gleamed as he turned to see them shuffling toward him, slowly entering the stranger’s apartment.

    With a guttural roar, he charged at the nearest zombie, slamming its head against the wall, leaving a crimson smear as it slumped to the ground. Another zombie lunged at his neck, but Jiho was faster—grabbing a broken chair leg from the pile of bodies, probably used by someone during the chaos. He drove the leg through the creature’s chest, yanked it out, and swung it in one fluid motion, crushing the skull of another zombie. The metal bent from the impact, rendering it useless.

    Jiho’s movements were clumsy, and his strikes missed as often as they hit. Sometimes, he bruised himself with the sheer force of his swings, but the blows that landed were devastating. He grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall, smashing it down onto a zombie’s head with a satisfying crunch. Blood sprayed across his face, but he didn’t flinch.

    “YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!! I TRUSTED YOU!!!” he roared, drawing more of the horde.

    Zombies kept coming, but Jiho didn’t care. He was a whirlwind of destruction, tearing through the horde with his newfound strength. His hands, slick with blood and gore, didn’t tire. He crushed skulls, snapped necks, and ripped limbs from bodies, driven by an insatiable hunger for violence.

    “More…!” he growled, eyes wild as he surveyed the carnage. Bodies lay scattered around him, some twitching in their final moments, others completely still. But Jiho didn’t feel victorious. He felt powerful—alive in a way he never had before.

    ‘Is this how you feel right now, Daniel? Is this how you felt every single time you had your filthy arm around Eunhee behind my back? Nah…’

    He chuckled darkly to himself.

    ‘…I bet you can’t even come close to what I can do right now. I don’t even feel a headache anymore… How sick is that!?’

    He stood amidst the destruction, chest heaving, fists clenched, as the last zombie fell at his feet. Silence returned to the hallway, save for the sound of blood dripping from the walls and Jiho’s ragged breathing.

    Lowering his gaze, he noticed his bandage—stained, torn, and nearly falling apart.

    He breathed heavily, a moment of clarity washing over him.

    ‘…It doesn’t matter. This outburst of strength… nothing is free,’ he realized.

    ‘…Not even friendships. Not even love,’ he thought bitterly, recalling Daniel and Eunhee once again.

    ‘So, come on. Just turn into a fucking zombie already… It has to happen at some point. It’s not like I’m immune. Even that hallucination said I’m 100% a zombie. Is this hell, or is this the afterlife?’

    ‘I mean, I can’t be alive. I can’t be THAT lucky!?’ he thought, forcing a somber chuckle as Eunhee’s smile flashed in his mind.

    Jiho sighed softly as he slouched, letting his form sink into the exhaustion weighing him down.

    ‘…I know you, Eunhee. I really do. You have no idea how many times I wanted to just confess—because it felt right. I thought nothing would go wrong if I just told you I was in love with you. A while ago, when I saw that tired look on your face… I knew. I knew you weren’t exhausted from school or some physical activity… You were tired of spending time with me,’ he reasoned, collapsing to his knees, still breathing heavily, his gaze locked on the tattered bandage around his forearm.

    ‘At that moment, I wanted to scream it… scream how much I loved you.’

    Jiho raised his bandaged hand to his face.

    ‘But…’

    ‘I trusted Daniel more than I trusted myself, so I stayed quiet. I… I really did trust him, you know? My whole life, actually… And everything turned out fine… until it didn’t.’

    A bitter chuckle escaped his lips.

    ‘Funny, isn’t it? The only time I realize what I should’ve done… is when I’m all alone. When I have nothing and no one left to trust.’

    ‘When I’m about to die and become a zombie, while you… you have that backstabber’s arm wrapped around your neck.’ He clenched his bandaged hand into a fist.

    ‘Either way… I won’t need this bandage once I turn. Might as well speed up the process,’ he thought, ripping the bandage off his forearm with a sharp tug.

    Jiho’s breath hitched as he stared at his arm. The skin was smooth, unmarked—completely healed where the bite had been.

    [BACKGROUND MUSIC: NO ROOM IN HELL – SAM B]

    “No way… What the hell is this!?” His pulse quickened, confusion churning in his gut. He hadn’t imagined it—he was supposed to die. He should have died.

    [YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO DIE, EVEN BY OUR STANDARDS AND RULES. BUT YOU’VE GOT A SICK AMOUNT OF LUCK, BOYO. MORE LUCK THAN THOSE POOR MANNERS YOU GOT THERE.]

    Jiho swallowed hard, his hand trembling over the spot where the bite once was, eyes darting between the message and his unscathed palm.

    [BUT LUCK RUNS OUT. SO GET STRONGER.]

    Stronger. Jiho clenched his fist, rage still simmering beneath his skin. He wasn’t dead, but something inside him was. Now, whatever was left needed a purpose.

    [AND MOST IMPORTANT OF ALL… STOP IGNORING MEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!]

    “Well…” Jiho sighed as he looked intensely at his hand. “I guess I’m strong now, huh?”

    [AUTHOR HERE! I forgot to mention, but this story… is inspired by Dead Island 2… >:) ]

  • 11th Death: Eviscerated Dream

    Daniel sat on the toilet, hunched over, his entire focus on his phone.

    [JIHO AN: 36 ATTEMPTED CALLS]

    With every call that went unanswered, his grip tightened, knuckles white from the pressure.

    “Fuck… FUCK…!! FUCK!!! FUUUCK!!!” he screamed, kicking the stall door with every curse. The voices of his classmates echoed in his mind—how Jiho wasn’t strong enough to survive, how he had a bite wound, how the zombies had likely surrounded him…

    And how Jiho would be forever remembered as scum, thanks to Daniel’s own manipulation.

    “Jiho…!!” His voice cracked, his hands trembling as he clutched the phone tighter. “I’m sorry… So fucking answer the DAMN PHONE!!!” he roared, giving one final, brutal kick to the stall door, sending it crashing off its hinges with a deafening bang.

    Eunhee, startled by the noise, hesitated at the entrance, her hand instinctively reaching out. Daniel remained hunched over, his face hidden, body rigid.

    “Daniel…?” she whispered, her voice laced with uncertainty as she cautiously approached.

    “Stay…” Daniel’s voice was barely a rasp, “Stay away, Eunhee. Now’s… Now’s not a good time, alright?” he murmured, still staring at the floor, trying to keep his emotions in check.

    “Hey,” she said softly, kneeling beside him, wrapping her arms around his big, yet tense frame. “It’s only been an hour… Maybe he’s still running. Maybe he just can’t answer right now.” She tried to soothe him, her words tender, almost pleading.

    “Please. You know him as well as I do.” His voice dripped with bitterness. “He can’t run for shit.”

    “Then… then maybe he dropped his phone,” Eunhee offered, desperate to find any explanation that could ease his torment.

    “THEN HE SHOULD’VE CALLED FROM SOMEONE ELSE’S PHONE!” Daniel exploded, shoving her away in frustration.

    Eunhee recoiled, the weight of his anger pressing down on her, leaving her speechless. The bathroom was silent except for the shallow, ragged breaths Daniel struggled to control.

    “Fuck.” He wiped his face with his sleeve, his voice quieter now, defeated. “Of course, he wouldn’t call… Not to us. Not after everything,” he muttered, the realization cutting deeper than he’d expected.

    “Daniel,” Eunhee said softly, stepping forward again, her voice low, “you did what you had to do. As scared as I am for Jiho… he was responsible for his own actions.” She bit her lip, her words faltering slightly.

    Daniel’s head snapped up, his wide eyes locking onto hers.

    ‘What…?’ Daniel’s thoughts churned, disbelief washing over him. ‘Is she serious…? Does she actually believe that bullshit about Jiho being manipulative? You’ve known him for ten years just like I have! How could you say that!?’

    His stomach twisted, bile rising in his throat. He had carefully crafted those rumors, expecting Eunhee to eventually question him. He had even planned how to gently adjust the lies once they were alone. But here she was, parroting back the poison he had fed to the school so blindly, it seemed.

    ‘Did you really believe everything just like that!? Jiho… Jiho loved you! He never would’ve hurt you! How could you not even question me, even a little bit?’ Daniel bit his lip subtly.

    Eunhee’s gaze softened as she reached for him again, but Daniel couldn’t shake the twisting in his gut. ‘I know you’ve put me above everyone… but to just accept this without doubt…?’

    Daniel gasped a little as he looked at her unwavering eyes,

     ‘He… Couldn’t have meant so little to you!!’ 

    “… You—” Daniel started, raising his gaze to meet hers, the truth on the edge of his tongue.
    It was just then a loud scream was heard from just outside the bathroom.

    “What the—?!” Daniel sprang up as Eunhee’s head snapped backwards.

    “Get behind me,” he instructed, and she complied shortly after.

    Daniel rushed out of the bathroom, his heart pounding. Just outside the bathroom, a male student was attacking a female student, pinning her against the wall. Her screams echoed through the hallway.

    “FUCK… IS THAT…!!?” Daniel exclaimed as he looked closely. It was a zombie. Its lips were torn apart, teeth aiming for the female student’s neck as she desperately tried to push it away.

    “HOLY SHIT…!!! A ZOMBIE!!!” A student who had left the classroom screamed, alerting everyone nearby. Some ran away, while others watched from a safe distance, unsure of what to do.

    Without hesitation, Daniel sprinted forward and delivered a powerful kick to the zombie’s side, knocking it away from the girl.

    Daniel was a big guy. A kick from someone of his size was bound to make a smaller student fall over.

    But the zombie merely stumbled a few steps sideways.

    “What the fuck…!? How strong is that thing..!?” Daniel murmured.

    “PAUL!!!!” The female student cried as Eunhee hurried to grab her, pulling her away. The zombie regained its stance and began mindlessly advancing towards Daniel once more.

    “DON’T HURT HIM!!! PLEASE, DON’T HURT HIM!!!” The girl cried as Eunhee kept her at bay.
    “Fuck, DANIEL, USE THAT!!” A student shouted, kicking a chair towards Daniel.

    Daniel’s eyes snapped to the chair. He grabbed it by the backrest and swung it against the zombie’s head with all his might.

    Blood splattered everywhere, causing the nearby students to back off with loud gasps, several female students screaming relentlessly in the background.

    But the zombie didn’t fall despite Daniel using all his strength.

    “Shit…!” Daniel muttered, gripping the chair tighter. The zombie, undeterred, continued its advance.

    “Come on, Daniel! FUCK IT UP!!” a student cried.

    The others started to follow, cheering Daniel on, chanting his name.

    “DANIEL, DANIEL, DANIEL!!!” they yelled as Daniel regained his resolve and struck the zombie repeatedly on the head with the chair.

    “NO!!! WHY ARE YOU CHEERING!!! IT’S PAUL!!! STOP IT, DON’T HURT HIM!!!” the girl cried as Eunhee embraced her tightly, guiding her head away.

    Four hits.

    Seven hits.

    Fifteen hits.

    The zombie finally went down with the sixteenth blow, as Daniel reached his limit and collapsed to his knees.

    ‘Fuck… Just one of them… Took this much out of me… What… What the fuck… I thought zombies were supposed to go down faster than this… It was like… I was fighting a brick wall…’ he thought to himself as he collapsed.

    ‘And… Jiho’s… Surrounded by monsters like that…?’ he thought, the realization hitting him harder than he hit the zombie with the chair.

    Blood flowed like a stream from the zombie’s head, creating a small pond in the hallway.

    The students surrounding the exhausted Daniel couldn’t help but cheer loudly.

    “HE FUCKED IT UP!!!” someone cried.

    “LET’S GOO!!!” they shouted enthusiastically, as if their favorite baseball team had just hit a home run.

    “NOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!” A high-pitched scream pierced the hallway, silencing all of them.

    “YOU MONSTERS!!! YOU ALL ARE FUCKING MONSTERS!!! THAT WAS PAUL!!! THAT WAS PAUL!!!!” she screamed, collapsing to her knees, gasping and wheezing with a runny nose.

    “THE YOUNG WOMAN IS RIGHT!!! THIS WAS YOUR FELLOW STUDENT!!!” a teacher’s scream soon followed, causing all the students to awkwardly look elsewhere.

    Daniel huffed and puffed, his gaze wandering to the zombie’s abdomen, noticing a small bite wound, ignoring the bashed skull and the bits of brain that started to pour out onto the floor with the blood.

    His eyes widened as he looked at the wound, a flash of Jiho’s injury crossing his mind.

    He got up and violently walked toward the girl, pushing Eunhee away unceremoniously.

    “Daniel, what are—” Eunhee called, but Daniel interrupted with a scream as he shook the girl’s shoulders violently.

    “SINCE WHEN WAS HE BIT!?” Daniel demanded, silencing everyone around him.

    “You… You fucking… You fucking monster…!” she murmured, looking at him with teary eyes.
    Daniel clenched his teeth, shaking her even more wildly. “ANSWER ME! SINCE WHEN. WAS HE. BIT!?” he growled, his voice echoing through the hallway.

    “Daniel!!” Eunhee called out, trying to draw his attention to no avail.

    The girl collapsed to the floor, her breathing labored and short as she looked at Daniel’s eyes. “He… It… It was…” she cried.

    “He protected me from a zombie…” she began explaining, everyone’s attention turning to her, “and the zombie grazed him with its teeth on the stomach…”

    “WHEN!?” he screamed, louder than before, causing the girl to flinch slightly.

    “Daniel… Please, let’s just go…” Eunhee softly called from the side. Students who had gathered around watched, their faces pale as they listened in curiosity.

    The girl reluctantly answered, “About… About 40 minutes ago…”

    Daniel’s face turned even paler as he recalled Jiho’s injury from earlier.

    ‘No…’ Daniel thought as he let her go and stepped back.

    “He’s…” he said out loud.

    “Jiho’s… dead… And… It’s my fault…”
    —————————————-

    “I’m so glad…!” Jiho murmured, fidgeting nervously as he stood across from her on the school’s rooftop. “I’ve felt this way ever since I met you, but I didn’t know how to say it… Will you go out with me?” His voice was soft, hopeful, as a blush spread across his face.

    Eunhee didn’t hesitate. “Yuck. No.”

    Jiho blinked, frozen. “What…?” His voice faltered, disbelief washing over him. “I… I think I didn’t hear you.”

    “You’re deaf, too?” she replied coldly, her expression deadpan. “I said NO. You’re not a real man, Jiho. Why would I even want to touch you?”

    “Eunhee… why?” Jiho gasped, his heart sinking as he looked up at her, confusion and hurt flooding his chest.

    “You took too long, Jiho,” she said flatly, a hint of boredom in her voice. “I’ve been with Daniel for a while now, behind your back. It was fun keeping it hidden.”

    “Wait, wait, I don’t understand why—” Jiho stammered, his words stumbling over themselves as cold sweat formed on his brow. His eyes widened in panic as his world started to spin.

    Before he could say more, Daniel appeared, almost materializing beside Eunhee, his arm slinging around her waist with a smug grin. He pulled her to him casually, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

    “D-Daniel… W-why… You… you said…” Jiho’s voice cracked, his eyes filled with desperation as he struggled to comprehend.

    “Jesus, Jiho.” Daniel scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Even now, you can’t think of anything to say on your own.” His tone was dismissive, dripping with mockery. “The only time you ever acted by yourself was when you were about to die. And even then, it was because some stranger pitied you and accepted your feelings, knowing you’d be dead soon after.”

    Jiho’s knees buckled. His voice was barely a whisper, broken. “Y-you… could’ve at least… told me.”

    Eunhee tilted her head, her tone matter-of-fact. “But you’re weak, Jiho. If we told you, you’d curl up like a child, making everyone feel sorry for you. Honestly, the thought of it was exhausting… almost as exhausting as your entire presence. We would’ve had to console you constantly, making sure you didn’t accidentally kill yourself over it.”

    Jiho’s world collapsed further with each word, his breath catching in his throat, but Eunhee barely seemed to notice his pain. She paused, as if letting the weight of her words sink in before Daniel took his turn.

    “But… Daniel…” Jiho whimpered softly, his eyes filled with tears as his voice broke. “I… I trusted you…”

    Daniel stopped for a moment, his expression unreadable.

    For just a second, Jiho allowed himself a glimmer of hope, raising his gaze toward them.

    Then Daniel leaned in, kissing Eunhee, slow and deliberate, right in front of him. He broke the kiss just long enough to glance back at Jiho with a smirk.

    Jiho’s heart shattered, the remnants of his hope obliterated as he watched them, powerless.

    “…And I’m grateful that you did,” Daniel mocked, his voice dripping with cruelty. Jiho’s eyes widened in disbelief, his mind unable to process the betrayal. “And now that you’re dead, I have her all to myself for real. And who knows? Maybe I’ll even score that hot Japanese chick who saved you.” Daniel laughed, a chilling sound that echoed through Jiho’s chest.

    Eunhee stood beside him, her expression indifferent, as if Jiho’s existence no longer mattered.

    “Enjoy being a zombie, twink,” Daniel added with a sneer, turning away as if Jiho was already gone.

    Suddenly, Jiho felt cold, decaying hands grabbing him from behind, dragging him toward the edge of the roof. His throat tightened as he struggled, but it was too late. He felt teeth sink into his neck, tearing flesh as blood gushed out.

    “GRAAAHHH!!! NOOOo!!!!!” Jiho screamed, his voice hoarse and desperate, tears streaming down his face. His breath grew shallow, his body trembling with the agony of betrayal and the realization that he was going to die.

    Misaki’s words echoed in his mind, blending with Daniel’s voice.

    “You know what this means, right? You’ll want to chew on your mommy and daddy, your friends… Just a mindless zombie…”

    Her words mingled with Daniel’s.

    “I will hurt you if you get near us again.”

    “I’m going out with Daniel.”

    The voices overlapped, attacking his thoughts as he was dragged closer to the roof’s edge.

    “NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!” he screamed, his hands desperately clawing at the air, reaching for something—anything—to save him. His fingers scraped the ledge in vain as he was pulled over, plummeting toward the ground below.

    As he fell, he caught a reflection of himself in the building’s windows. The hands dragging him down belonged to a grotesque figure.

    It was him.

    The zombie that pulled him down was him.

    The ground rushed up to meet him, and before he knew it, he hit the cold, unforgiving pavement. The pain jolted him back in time.

    Suddenly, he was no longer falling from the roof but lying on the curb as a child. His teeth bit down on the hard concrete as bullies prepared to curb-stomp him.

    ‘Right… This was when I thought I’d die for the first time,’ he thought distantly. ‘I never went back to this memory or got traumatized over it because I figured… As long as Daniel was with me, I didn’t have to be afraid anymore.’

    ‘But now…’

    ‘This time, I really am going to die.’

    ‘No one is going to save me now.’

    Jiho closed his eyes, bracing himself for the impact, preparing for the inevitable as the bully raised his foot to crush his skull.

    Then, a voice cut through the darkness. A feminine voice, soft yet strong.

    “Hey.”

    Jiho’s eyes snapped open.

    Jiho raised his head; it was Misaki.

    ‘M-… Misaki…?’

    “Say, Jiho.” She said, her voice steady yet laced with a sharp edge.

    “Why are you never angry?” She questioned, her gaze piercing.

    ‘Huh…? What do you mean?’

    “What you saw just now, it would make anyone and their mother want to tear their own hearts out. What is it with you, Boyo? Don’t you want to… chew that bastard whole?” Her voice dropped to a low growl, her words sinking into him as an image of Daniel and Eunhee, entangled in each other, flashed before his eyes. His jaw locked as if biting into the curve of that memory, unable to release the tension.

    ‘… I…’ Jiho thought as he looked at the vision of them together, not even sparing him a glance. He was still down on the ground, invisible, insignificant.

    ‘… Anger won’t make either of them see me.’

    ===========================

    “YOU FUCKER!!! COME BACK!!!!” She screamed, hurling a vase that shattered against his back as he walked out the door.

    “MINSOO!!!! I SAID FUCKING COME BACK HERE!!!!” She ran after him, slamming her fists into his broad back, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t flinch. Her punches were as light as falling leaves to him.

    “YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME… YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME WITH HIM!!!!” Ji-yeon cried, pointing at the boy standing over a bloody, broken dog. The hammer in his hand dripped with the dog’s blood. His face was blank, confused, as if he didn’t understand why his mother was so upset. The dog wheezed and whimpered in agony.

    “I’m sorry, Ji-yeon,” Minsoo said, his voice flat as he turned to face her, his eyes devoid of emotion. “Like I said, just take him to adoption. Do that, and I’ll stay.”

    Ji-yeon flinched.

    “You and I both know… He’s too far gone. We’ve known for a while. You know it now, but you still choose to pretend as if there’s something to salvage.” He muttered, already halfway out the door.

    Ji-yeon’s gaze shifted to the boy, her eyes filled with discomfort and disgust as she looked at the beaten dog lying at his feet.

    ===============================

    ‘I could scream, kick, or break things, but that won’t make them see me… Nor will it change what happened,’ Jiho thought, his mind spinning in the whirlwind of the memory. ‘They gave me trust, let me give them all of mine… And now it’s all gone. There’s nothing left.’

    He looked down at the pavement, feeling utterly defeated.

    “I understand… So, you just don’t have true anger inside of you? Hah, I can feel it… It’s like that place inside you is completely empty… What an anomaly you are!” Misaki growled with excitement.

    ‘…What?’ Jiho’s mind, numb with confusion, could barely process her words.

    “Well… Since you’re hollow…” she whispered, her voice laced with malice, “You don’t mind if I slip in, do you?”

    Jiho’s gaze shot up, his breath catching in his throat.

    “…!!!” He gasped, looking up at her with wide eyes, frozen in place.

    The figure before him had morphed into a decayed version of Misaki—a grotesque, corpse-like mimicry

    The figure before him had morphed into a decayed version of Misaki—a grotesque, corpse-like mimicry. Her once-lively eyes were now hollow, rotted sockets, skin peeling off in grotesque patches. Blackened veins bulged beneath the cracked, ashen skin, her mouth twisted into a decayed, lipless grin.

    He tried to scream, but before the sound could escape, she lunged.

    Her corpse-like form forced itself into his open mouth, prying it wide with a horrifying strength. He could feel her cold, rotted fingers forcing his jaw apart, stretching his skin to its limit. Jiho gagged as her decayed arms slithered down his throat, slick with congealed blood and the stench of death.

    Her legs, barely clinging to the brittle bones, squirmed, wriggling in through his lips as her body contorted unnaturally. Every movement scraped against his insides like shards of glass. The pressure built in his chest as her slimy, decomposing form slid further inside him. His mouth tore at the corners as she forced herself deeper—flesh, tendons, and bones snapping in ways that should have been impossible.

    Jiho’s vision blurred with tears as his body convulsed violently. His esophagus stretched, the sensation of cold, decayed flesh writhing through his insides. He gagged, bile rising as he felt her bones shift beneath his skin, her limbs crawling like parasites down into his stomach.

    It was suffocating, agonizing. Every inch she consumed felt like his body was being hollowed out, piece by piece.

    And then, she was fully inside.

    A burning sensation erupted from within.

    Jiho’s body snapped to life, flipping off the ground with unnatural speed. His eyes locked onto the foot that had nearly stomped him—and without thinking, he bit down savagely.

    He ripped into the bully’s ankle, tearing away skin, flesh, and veins, blood spurting into his mouth. The metallic taste was sharp, but it only fueled the inferno inside him.

    What should I do…?

    I know now. He thought, his eyes burning with rage. I want to tear Daniel’s throat out…!!!!

    With his teeth.

    [RING] [RING] [RING]

    Jiho jolted awake, his body drenched in cold sweat, gasping for air. His heart pounded violently in his chest, the vivid nightmare still clawing at the edges of his mind.

    Jiho’s eyes darted around, his breath ragged as he tried to ground himself in reality. His hands trembled, gripping the sheets, the phantom sensation of tearing flesh still lingering in his teeth.

    He was still in Misaki’s apartment, covered with a blanket on her couch.

    There was no light coming from outside anymore; it was nighttime, but the apartment was still brightly lit. Several hours must’ve passed, and Misaki had probably left the lights on.

    “Ahhk!” he groaned, clutching his head tightly. The ringing noise that woke him was nowhere to be heard.

    His head pounded violently, more intensely than before. But then came an even stronger sensation…

    …extreme hunger.

    Driven by instinct, Jiho scrambled off the couch, tripping onto the floor in the brightly lit apartment. Desperation overtook him as he sprinted towards the refrigerator, moving as if nothing else mattered. Even the pounding in his head did nothing to slow him down.

    He yanked open the refrigerator and devoured anything he could grab.

    Spoiled grapes, a half-eaten sandwich torn from its packaging, several cans of beer, raw carrots, and leeks.

    “FOOD… FOOD…!!!” his mind echoed as he stuffed himself with anything remotely edible.

    After emptying the entirety of Misaki’s refrigerator, his gaze locked onto the freezer.

    He violently yanked it open, tilting the entire fridge with the force, and pulled out over a kilogram of frozen ground meat. His eyes glistened as if he’d found a hidden treasure.

    Without hesitation, Jiho moved to the sink, slamming the chunk of meat against the ceramic with all his strength—again, and again, and again.

    “GRRRGHH!!”

    “GRRRCH!!”

    “GRRRRRGH!!” he grunted with each blow, his voice raw and guttural. Grunting was foreign to Jiho; he had never expressed anger like this before. Yet something about that frozen, unyielding meat fueled an unfamiliar rage.

    The frozen ground meat shattered into pieces, and cracks began to form in the ceramic sink.

    Jiho grabbed the frozen chunks, stuffing them into his mouth, cracking the icy meat with his teeth, swallowing it whole. He repeated this until he devoured every last bit of it…

    …alongside everything else frozen in Misaki’s freezer.

    He gasped, wheezing, with the freezer and refrigerator still open.

    Reeling from the frenzy, Jiho shoved his head under the sink, turning on the faucet, and gulped down liters of water until he finally stopped.

    He leaned against the sink, the water still flowing as he caught his breath.

    Several minutes passed. Yet, despite his frenzied consumption, the headache persisted… And the hunger clawed at him still.

    “Fuck…!!”

    “What… What is happening to me!!!?” he muttered, wiping traces of food and water from his mouth.

    Suddenly, a bright red message flashed in front of Jiho’s eyes.

    [CONGRATULATIONS!]

    His heart raced.

    “The fuck… What is this?” he gasped, clutching his head as his vision blurred.

    [SOMEHOW, YOU RETAINED YOUR HUMANITY, SOMEWHAT! EVEN THOUGH YOU’RE FAR FROM SAFE!]

    Jiho blinked in confusion, feeling a pang of dread twist in his stomach.

    [EITHER WAY, REJOICE! YOU ARE NOW A SENTIENT ZOMBIE! TRY NOT TO LOSE YOURSELF AND CHEW ON THE ONES YOU LOVE, BOYO!]

    “A… HUH!!?” he gasped, staring at the screen in disbelief.

    “… Am I a… zombie now?”

    https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/B_HSa1dEL9s?rel=0&showinfo=0&enablejsapi=1

  • 10th Death: Blonde

    Fortunately, the elevator still worked in the building. Misaki carefully led Jiho through the horde of zombies infesting the lower floors and managed to get them inside the elevator.

    The surviving tenants had set up a base on the 8th, 9th, and Penthouse floors, holding out for as long as they could. As the elevator ascended, Misaki tore a piece of her shirt and wrapped it around Jiho’s bite wound to cover it.

    Her quick thinking and acting skills came into play the moment they exited the elevator, greeted by terrified fathers and capable young men stationed on the 8th floor:

    “SHIT… FUCK…!! JIHO!!!” Misaki screamed, grabbing his arm and covering the wound as if in panic.

    “Misaki, who is—”

    “MOVE IT!! MY BROTHER’S ARM GOT STABBED WITH SHARP GLASS, I HAVE TO STOP THE BLEEDING!!!” she yelled, shoving past the men and creating a path for Jiho. She led him to her apartment—thankfully also on the 8th floor, a space she hadn’t yet shared with anyone.

    Once inside, she slammed the door and locked it before rushing to disinfect and bandage Jiho’s wound. He gritted his teeth, struggling not to scream as she worked quickly and efficiently.

    After some time, when Jiho had finally settled on the couch, catching his breath, he broke the silence.

    “…Why’d you dye your hair?” he asked, glancing at her from his spot, an hour after he had relaxed a bit.

    “Rude bastard. It’s not dyed,” Misaki retorted, stepping out of the bathroom and heading toward the window.

    Misaki’s apartment was a spacious one-bedroom, impeccably neat. Jiho sat on a soft vinyl couch draped with luxurious white fur covers, his eyes drifting to the turned-off plasma television. His legs stretched out on the large mattress that took up most of the living room.

    ‘A place like this… either she’s loaded or in massive debt,’ Jiho thought, his eyes scanning the room before landing on Misaki’s silhouette by the window. She stood gazing intently outside.

    “Should I ask?” he ventured.

    No response.

    After a few moments of silence, she pulled her head back inside, shutting the window with a decisive thud.

    “Forget it,” she muttered, her expression briefly grim before softening again. Walking over to the counter near the television, she grabbed a pack of cigarettes, settled into the single chair opposite Jiho, and let out a long sigh.

    “Kid, you tried your parents again?” Misaki asked, pulling a cigarette from the pack and placing it between her lips.

    Jiho looked down, his brows furrowing as he raised his phone with his injured wrist, now cleaned and wrapped in iodine and several layers of bandages.

    “…No response from either of them,” he murmured, staring at the contacts for his mother and father:

    [MOM: (36 CALLS ATTEMPTED)]
    [DAD: (9 CALLS ATTEMPTED)]

    “It’s weird,” Jiho began, swallowing silently. “When they were out at work or not next to me, and I’d call and there was no answer, I’d… I’d feel more stressed than this.” He tightened his grip on the phone.

    ‘It’s like… I can’t even get stressed about them anymore,’ he thought, lowering his gaze.

    Misaki watched him closely, resting her head on her elbow.

    “…It’s because of your imagination,” she said, her tone slightly reluctant. She pulled a lighter from her jeans pocket, igniting a flame and shielding it with her hand, though there was no wind in the room.

    Jiho lifted his head, confused.

    “What?”

    “Your imagination,” she repeated, lighting the cigarette and taking a drag. “Before the zombie apocalypse, you had more to imagine. You’d think, did they die in a car crash? Did they choke on their food and can’t breathe, about to die? Maybe a robber shot them while they were out getting you something from the store…” She mumbled, her gaze drifting blankly upward as Jiho lowered his head again.

    “There were so many things that could’ve happened to them, so your mind would restlessly go over each one, stressing you out beforehand… to prepare you for the worst, to lessen the shock if one of those things happened when they didn’t return your calls,” she continued, taking another drag.

    “But now…” She extended her hand, holding the cigarette between her fingers, and tapped it against the ashtray on the table, the burnt tobacco falling softly. “Now, there are just… fewer reasons why they don’t answer.”

    “Either they’re not near their phones… or they’ve been killed by a zombie. No need to think too hard or get stressed over it. That’s why you’re calmer now,” Misaki concluded, placing the cigarette back between her lips.

    “That’s…” Jiho started, forcing a chuckle, “that’s so messed up…” He looked up at the ceiling.

    “Yeah… our minds are more messed up than this apocalypse out there, I’ll tell you that much,” she replied, glancing at Jiho’s strained expression. After a moment, she looked down at the tip of her cigarette.

    “Oh, shit… forgot to ask if you mind me lighting this up,” she said.

    “Does it matter?” Jiho replied, raising his bitten hand.

    Misaki pressed her lips together, taking in his resigned expression. She bit her lip softly before he lowered his hand, his gaze returning to the mattress beneath him.

    Without another word, she pulled the cigarette from her lips and extinguished it in the ashtray, settling back into her spot.

    “Maybe it doesn’t work like it does in the comics,” she said. “Maybe you have to die to turn into a zombie first… Or maybe if you disinfect it like I did, it kills the zombie bacteria or something…” she muttered, scratching her head, trailing off as she searched for a better explanation.

    Jiho chuckled, this time more naturally.

    “Zombie bacteria… that’s so dumb,” he echoed, laughing, his eyes tensing as he leaned back on the couch.

    “H-hey, shut up! What else should I call it?” she shot back, but Jiho couldn’t stop laughing.

    Misaki pouted, but the longer she looked at his laughing face, the more her expression softened.

    “Haah… Zombie bacteria,” she murmured, letting out a soft chuckle herself.

    Soon, the laughter faded, leaving them in silence once more.

    “So…” she began, a bit hesitant, “your headache passed?”

    Jiho forced a weak smile, turning his head to face her. “Nah,” he said. “It’s… it’s only getting worse.” Beads of sweat dripped down his face as he relaxed against the couch, looking straight at Misaki.

    “…”

    They both fell quiet.

    Jiho noticed Misaki’s brows furrow as she looked down, her concern evident.

    “Maybe I’ll be…” he began, his breath more labored, “an Iodine Zombie. Still a zombie… but disinfected.”

    “PFFFT,” Misaki cracked up. “An Iodine Zombie, what the hell is that?” she laughed, holding her sides as she leaned back on the couch.

    After a while, her laughter subsided, and she looked squarely at Jiho with a soft smile.

    “So, what’s your story?” she asked lightly.

    In that moment of respite, with his head burning and vision spinning, Jiho felt the end creeping closer. The weight of everything he’d been carrying seemed lighter, and for the first time, he wanted to vent. He spoke without holding back, feeling oddly liberated.

    Whatever he told her wouldn’t matter. He was going to die anyway.

    “I told this girl from my class that I liked her today. She’s a childhood friend of mine,” he blurted out.

    “Oh~? Do tell, kid. Did she agree?” Misaki leaned forward, her curiosity piqued.

    “Nah. Turns out she and my best friend were already a thing behind my back,” he said with a sigh.

    “Owwwwwww~~~!! That sucks,” she groaned, contorting her face playfully.

    “Yeah… And get this,” he gasped, shifting on the couch as his vision spun even more wildly, “he’s the one I went to for advice on how to confess to her.” He let out a chuckle, bitter and weak.

    “OHHHHHH HOHOHOHO…” Misaki howled, rocking her legs on the floor, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

    “I…” Jiho started, his strength fading fast as he rested his head against the couch, “I really… really believed in him, you know?” His voice was faint.

    “All my life I believed in him,” he added, biting his lip. Misaki’s laughter faded, her smile disappearing as she listened closely. Jiho stared blankly at the ceiling, his words barely more than a whisper.

    “He’s my best friend…” Jiho’s voice cracked as a sob escaped him, tears flowing freely. “So, why did he do it? Why did he lie to me?” He sobbed, vividly recalling Daniel slapping him, showing off his affection for Eunhee like a cruel inside joke everyone but him had been in on.

    After awkwardly wiping his tears, Jiho tilted his head slightly, turning his gaze toward Misaki.

    “Hey… older sister,” he called, his voice strained and growing weaker.

    “Yeah, dude, I’m here,” Misaki softly replied.

    “You’re… you’re very pretty. When I asked if you dyed your hair… it’s because blonde looks really good on you…” Jiho whispered. Misaki forced a chuckle, her eyes locking onto his pale, drained face. His eyelids were getting heavier with each passing second.

    ‘I hadn’t even realized… but even though she’s Japanese, she looks a lot like Eunhee… if Eunhee had blonde hair,’ Jiho thought as his vision began to blur.

    “D… Do you… have a boyfriend?” he asked, the image of Eunhee superimposing itself over Misaki.

    Misaki crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that? Are you… hitting on me, Jiho?” she teased, swallowing the lump in her throat as she forced a smile.

    “Y-yeah… w-would… would you have been my girlfriend… if… if I… lived?” His words slurred, his mouth and tongue growing heavier as his vision darkened further.

    ‘Would you…? Eunhee…?’ he echoed silently in his mind.

    “Yeah! Of course!” Eunhee’s voice rang in his ears, bright and cheery. “After all…”

    “I love you, Jiho. More than just a friend,” Eunhee said, her face glowing as they stood on the rooftop, with Daniel smiling proudly in the background.

    Jiho let out one final chuckle, smiling warmly at the imagined Eunhee.

    “Haaah… I see… I’m… so… gla…d…” he murmured, his voice barely audible as his consciousness slipped away, leaving Misaki alone, leaning into her hands, tears pouring freely onto her palms.

  • 9th Death: The Girl

    “Run,” the thought dominated Jiho’s mind as he sprinted through the city streets, his legs burning with exhaustion.

    His body, fueled by adrenaline, had been running for who knows how long. But Jiho knew in his heart this was the farthest he had ever run in his life. He ran, and ran, and kept running, as if his usually weak stamina had vanished.

    Run where, though?

    To safety? To somewhere he could wait until he either died or turned into a zombie? Like the thousands he passed by?

    ‘That has to be how it works, right?’ he thought, dodging between the awkwardly limping zombies that filled the streets. ‘You get bitten by a zombie, there’s a virus, and you turn into one of them soon enough?’

    ‘These are actual zombies! Fuck…! Where do I go!?’

    “HEY!!! DUDE, OVER HERE!” a feminine voice called out from what looked like an apartment complex as Jiho navigated the horde.

    Without thinking, he bolted toward the voice, with dozens of zombies trailing behind him. As he rushed inside, the girl who had called out slammed the door shut, quickly wedging a crowbar between the handles to seal it.

    ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck…! This is real! Holy shit, this is really real!’ Jiho’s thoughts raced as he leaned against a nearby wall, his palm still bleeding steadily. Though it was just a drop at a time now, earlier it had poured like a waterfall.

    His legs finally gave out, his breathing growing more labored. His face turned pale, the toll of relentless running and fear now fully taking hold.

    He could almost hear it… the bell of death ringing louder and louder, the grim reaper’s scythe drawing nearer, pressing against his throat.

    Then, the loud banging against the door started. The moans grew louder, zombies pressing their decayed mouths against the gap, trying to bite at anything—anyone.

    The ringing in Jiho’s ears intensified, growing louder with each passing second. His breathing became more labored, the pain in his palm worsening as blood pooled in his hand. He was going to become one of them… there was no way ou—

    “—HEY!!” the girl screamed, slapping him hard enough to knock him off balance.

    “Ah..!” Jiho gasped, his senses jolted back to the present. His breathing steadied slightly as his eyes snapped to her. “Uh—” he tried to speak between breaths, but before he could take in her face, another slap cracked across his cheek.

    “Ah!!” he exhaled, stumbling again. He tried to focus, but was hit in the same spot once more.

    Each slap stung harder than the last.

    ‘What… The…?’ Jiho’s thoughts scrambled as another slap collided with his cheek.

    “H-hey!!” he finally managed to call out.

    “YOU FUCKER!!!” she screamed, punching him this time, sending him tumbling over. Before he could recover, she was on top of him, pinning him to the ground and unleashing a relentless barrage of slaps and fists to his face.

    “YOU FUCKER!!! YOU FUCKER!!! YOU FUCKER!!!” she screamed, her voice straining with every word.

    ‘What… What is she doing!?’ Jiho thought, letting go of his wound to raise his arms in defense.

    “STOP… STOP HITTING ME…!!” Jiho shouted, but the girl grabbed his wounded wrist.

    “SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKER!! YOU GOT BIT!” she yelled, violently shaking his wrist in front of his face like it was stolen property.

    Jiho fell silent, staring into her eyes. She was… very pretty.

    ‘I never imagined the first girl to ever be on top of me, and one this cute, would be so furious.’ The bizarre thought crossed his mind.

    “What…” she started, still gripping his arm tightly. Jiho relaxed his muscles, utterly confused. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now, huh?” she snapped, her head jerking back to meet his exhausted, bewildered gaze.

    “Tell me,” she demanded, tightening her grip on his wounded wrist. Jiho didn’t resist. “No, seriously… just fucking tell me, man.” Her voice cracked slightly.

    She stayed seated on top of him, her eyes filled with resignation, her brows furrowed in frustration.

    “I… I… I don’t know,” Jiho whispered weakly.

    She rubbed her temple aggressively, then pulled a gun from her skinny jeans, aiming it directly at his face.

    Jiho gasped, his eyes widening as he stared into the barrel of the gun.

    “See this?” she asked, as Jiho remained frozen. “I nabbed it from our security guard.” She glanced sideways for a moment. “He got bitten on the neck and died. Then he came back as one of them.” Her eyebrows knitted as she sniffled, and Jiho’s eyes darted to where she had glanced. In the dim light, he saw two bodies lying on the floor, a pool of dark liquid around them. One was dressed in casual clothes, and the other—what was left of the lower torso—wore the dark boots and blue pants typical of a security guard.

    “So, you understand? I’m not being irrational here. You are going to turn into a zombie. You are going to come back to life and start eating people…” Her voice grew progressively shaky.

    “You look like a kid. So, get this; you’ll wanna chew on your friends, your mommy and daddy if you ever see them. EVERYONE,” she said, sniffling again as she cocked the gun, her eyes reddening.

    “So just be straight with me, man… Tell me. What… what should I do?”

    Jiho looked at the barrel of the gun.

    He heard it again—the tolling of death’s bell, growing louder with every second.

    He was going to die. Or die and become a zombie.

    There was no Daniel to save him from this. He was back in that dark place, chained to the ground.

    Unable to trust anyone, filled with remorse and regret. Damp, and empty.

    But as he stared into the barrel of that gun, right into its dark, hollow interior, one thing became crystal clear.

    He could trust this.

    If she squeezed that trigger, if a bullet came out… he would die.

    “Kill me,” Jiho said firmly.

    “…What?” Misaki whispered, her gaze locking onto his now empty eyes, his breathing gradually steadying.

    “A gun can’t betray or lie to me. Or turn off the light inside me,” he said, his eyes fixed on the barrel. “So just press it. If I’m gonna die… I want to die to the one thing I can trust.”

    But then he flinched as a flash of his mother appeared in his mind.

    ‘…Mom would be sad,’ Jiho thought, the image lingering.

    “Woah, I’ve never seen an edgelord like you.” Misaki spat, her brows knitting in mockery.

    “Just shoot me, please. I don’t really have much to live for,” Jiho insisted, his voice hollow.

    Misaki looked away, smacking her lips together in frustration. She lowered the gun to his abdomen, her eyes darting around the room.

    “Tsche… FUCK…!! FUCK YOU!!!” she blurted out loudly, snapping the gun away from his abdomen and lowering it to her side.

    With a deep sigh, she looked up at the ceiling, sniffling once more. “Don’t talk like you’re some kind of know-it-all adult who thinks they’ve got everything figured out… Bitten or not, you’re still a runny-nosed brat, and the shit you just spewed is edgy, angsty teenager-pretending-to-be-an-adult bullshit. You understand me?” she muttered, glaring at him.

    Jiho looked at her, feeling an odd compulsion to nod, as if not doing so would earn him a lecture.

    “Good… Good,” she exhaled deeply. “So, what’s your name, kid?” she asked, her voice almost raspy.

    “It’s… Jiho. Jiho An… 17 years old,” he murmured, his voice carrying a note of frustration.

    “Remember to be nice to people, okay, Jiho?” Ji-yeon, Jiho’s mother, said softly, patting his cheek with a warm smile.

    “…Alright, cool. Listen up, Jiho,” Misaki began. “I’ll take you to my condo, and we’ll figure stuff out—”

    “…Yours?” Jiho suddenly asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

    Misaki’s eyes widened slightly at his interruption, but then a soft smile crept across her lips as she let out a chuckle.

    “You know, your name sounds like that of a squirt,” she muttered, her face relaxing as she looked at him.

    “I’m… Misaki,” she continued. “Misaki Tanaka, 26 years old. I’m half-Japanese,” she said with a faint smile.

    “Nice to meet you, kid,” she murmured, her voice trembling just a bit.

  • 8th Death: For Whom The Bell Tolls

    Jiho stood in the bathroom just outside the school’s perimeter, near the small forest, staring at the flowing water from the sink. It had been an hour since he left the classroom after finding out that Daniel and Eunhee had been seeing each other for a while now.

    Since then, he hadn’t been able to return.

    Daniel—the same Daniel who had taught him about courage, calmness, and the strength of bond, the one he had trusted so deeply—had betrayed him in the most appalling way.

    ‘What was the point of everything I learned?’ Jiho wondered. ‘What was the point of the smiles we shared, my honesty, my trust?’

    This mountain they had climbed together—trust, bond—was it ever real? Or had it been nothing more than a mirage, crafted by Daniel? If it was a mirage, it was never tangible, yet somehow he had still risen to great heights, thinking it was solid. But now… he had nothing left to hold onto.

    He fell.

    And he plummeted. Drowning in an ocean of despair, he hit the cold pavement, watching as Daniel and Eunhee soared above him in together, leaving him behind.

    Just like that, the trust that had once kept him afloat deflated in mere moments.

    Once more, he was a hollow, sinking mess.

    “Why…” Jiho murmured.

    “Why did I stop torturing you, Pooch?” he found himself asking his long-dead dog, lacking the strength to lift his head.

    “No, really. What… What did it give me, in the end?” he asked, his voice faint. “Everything I did out of this… abundance I felt… What did it amount to, in the end?” His hands trembled as he gripped the dirtied ceramic sink, his knees weakening.

    “I’m… I’m all alone again…” His voice was raspy, dried up, a shadow of the punch and vibrance it had once held when he still believed, when he had still been alight.

    “I… I knew it, Mom…” He closed his eyes, swallowing back the tears. “There was no point to anything you asked… Whether it was a year or ten… Just like I feared… It was all for nothi—”

    “Muhggghhheee…”

    A loud, raspy groan came from one of the stalls.

    Jiho snapped upright. “S-SORRY, I’LL LEAVE..!!” he called out, startled by the loud banging on the stall door.

    ‘Ahh… Who am I kidding..!! What’s wrong with me, doing this one-man show? Like there’s a camera filming me or something…’ he thought bitterly.

    ‘No matter what I pretend to say to my deceased dog, my mom… or Daniel and Eunhee…’

    ‘I’ll never get that image out of my head,’ he thought, his lips tightening as the memory of Daniel and Eunhee’s embrace flooded back.

    ‘And… they’ve been going out for a while, apparently… even though he said…’

    ============

    “Don’t worry, bro,” Daniel had assured him once.

    “I’m the brawn, you’re the brains, remember? I’m on your side.”

    “You can always trust me. I’ll always carry you to safety~ You’re my princess~…” Daniel teased, scooping Jiho up in a playful princess carry.

    “STOP, I GET IT, EUGH!” Jiho had shouted, struggling in embarrassment as Daniel laughed.

    “Aww, you just ruined such a romantic moment~” Daniel had mocked, as Jiho leapt out of his arms.

    “YOU RUINED IT YOURSELF!” Jiho had shouted back, while Eunhee laughed so hard she cried.

    ============

    ‘…Well, what can I do about it? I’ll just go home for today… and for the rest of the week… or maybe the month… or maybe I’ll never leave,’ Jiho thought, gritting his teeth as he grappled with the weight of his emotions, hastily turning to leave.

    Just as he was about to step out, he glanced back at the stall. The banging continued, louder and more insistent.

    His eyes narrowed as he noticed something—dark red-black liquid was slowly seeping out from beneath the stall door, where the banging and groaning were coming from.

    “Uh… A-are you okay…?” Jiho asked hesitantly, stopping in his tracks, frozen just before the exit.

    ‘What am I doing…? Asking a stranger if they’re okay, what’s that going to do for me? Nothing good ever comes from getting involved in this kind of stuff…’ Jiho thought, his mind screaming at him to leave, but something deeper—his heart, maybe—pulled him back toward the toilet area.

    “Mugghhhhe…” Another groan echoed from the stall, as the pool of black, oily liquid spread further.

    Jiho felt an unsettling chill crawl up his spine. He edged closer to the stall and shouted, “HELLO!? ARE YOU OKAY IN THERE?!”

    “Mughghhhhee…” came another groan, this one more guttural, and the banging against the door grew more frantic.

    “FUCK, ARE YOU DYING?!” Jiho yelled, tugging at the stall door.

    “H-HEY, THE SAFETY LOCK! DISENGAGE IT NOW!!” he cried, pulling harder.

    And then, he heard a snap.

    The plastic safety lock broke, and the stall door slowly creaked open in Jiho’s direction.

    “Hey…!” Jiho called out, peering into the stall as the door swung wide.

    And then, it opened fully.

    ‘W-what… what is that…?’

    “Uhm… M-…Mis—” Jiho tried to speak, but before he could finish, the figure inside lunged at him with a feral growl, knocking him violently to the ground.

    “WHAT THE FUCK…!! HEY…!!!”

    ‘No… no… wait, what the fuck…!!? Is… is that a… ZOMBIE!?’ Jiho’s mind raced in disbelief as he struggled to keep the disfigured, decaying figure at bay. The creature—a girl, or what was left of her—was bleeding, her flesh rotting and peeling off as she growled and pushed closer.

    “FUCK… FUCK…!! Fuck…!! OH FUCK…!!” Jiho gasped, half-convinced he was in some kind of nightmare.

    Her head lurched closer, jaws snapping. Desperate, Jiho released one of her arms and shoved his hand against her mouth, trying to hold her off.

    For a moment, Jiho froze. He couldn’t think, couldn’t move, as the coldness of her dead skin, the sickening texture of flesh peeling under his grip, and the stench of decay overwhelmed him. The zombie’s blood seeped onto his hand, sticky and rancid.

    It felt unreal, like some terrible dream.

    But the zombie growled again, a harsh reminder that this was no dream. Jiho snapped back to reality, his heart pounding as the danger became terrifyingly real.

    “Grrggh…!!!” Jiho struggled. “Fuck… OH FUCK…!!! FUCK!!!” he cried out, his eyes fixated on the zombie’s decayed pupils and dried skin. The flesh was so thin, he could see through it to the bones and teeth beneath.

    But the zombie had other ‘ideas.’ She lunged forward and bit down hard on his wrist, just below his thumb.

    “GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!” Jiho screamed as pain shot through him, his blood spilling over his hand as he watched his skin tear beneath her teeth.

    Desperation surged through him. He let go of her other hand and, with all the strength he could muster, punched her in the side, knocking her off him.

    He scrambled to his feet and bolted for the door, tripping on his way out of the bathroom.

    “Z-zombie…!!” he gasped, drenched in cold sweat as he stumbled into the scorching sunlight, clutching his bleeding wrist with his free hand.

    “ZOMBIE!!!” he screamed, tears streaming down his face.

    And then, the school’s emergency alarm blared, deafening and ominous, just as he sprinted toward the building, desperate for help.

    “No… no…!!! NO…!!! NO!!!!!” he shouted, only to see several more figures, grotesque and rotting, banging on the front doors of the school.

    There was no going back.

    Jiho found himself standing in the schoolyard, his heart pounding as he looked around in a panic. The blaring alarms, the distant screams, and the small plume of smoke rising in the distance painted a grim picture.

    Zombies were climbing over the school’s gates and walls. The sound of their groans and the chaos in the city made it clear—this was no isolated event.

    ‘The end of the world.’ The thought surged through his mind, unbidden.

    “No… NO…!!” Jiho muttered, frozen in place as the zombies spotted him—a lone human standing in the middle of the schoolyard. Slowly, they turned toward him, shambling closer, closing in on all sides.

    What’s there to do?

    What can I do?

    What should I do?

    It’s the end.

    I’m gonna die.

    I was bit. So I’ll probably end up like them.

    I’m all alone.

    I’m by myself.

    Is there a point to run?

    Where?

    Who’ll… even care if I’ll die…

    He looked down, out of breath, still gripping tightly against his bite wound as the zombies were now mere steps away from him.

    “JIHOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!” a rough call was heard from the direction of the top floor of the school. Whoever it was, it sounded as if they tore their lungs shouting.

    Jiho’s head snapped upwards, his eyes wide open in shock.

    He saw a figure popping out from the window, several dozen figures standing behind him, appearing just as shocked and distressed as he was.

    It was Daniel, with Eunhee tightly gripping his arm, and several other students looking out the window from every single classroom.

    All eyes were on him.

    “D-…Dan…iel…?” Jiho stuttered softly.

    “RUN!!!!!!!!!! RUN AWAY NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!” Daniel tore his throat as he nearly fell out of the window. “GO TO THE BACK EXIT, THE SCHOOL IS SURROUNDED BUT YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO LEAVE THROUGH THERE!!!!! IT’S LESS CROWDED. RUN!!!!!!!!!!! RUN NOWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” he desperately cried.

    “R-run…?” Jiho echoed to himself, feeling his body shift involuntarily.

    ‘A-ah, I see… I… I need to run,’ he thought as he turned and started jogging mechanically towards the back entrance.

    Like a flock of birds, all the students shifted to watch Jiho run for his life.

    “COME ON!!!!! RUN FASTER!!!!!!!” Daniel screamed and screamed until Jiho eventually disappeared from sight.

    “H-holy… Is… He’s bleeding…!” someone murmured after they looked at his palm. Eunhee quickly snapped her palm to her mouth with a sharp gasp.

    “Was he bitten..!!?” someone else called.

    “No…!” Eunhee softly called out, gripping Daniel’s arm even tighter as her face paled.

    Yet it didn’t pale as much as Daniel’s.

    “WAIT, WAIT, WAIT A MINUTE!! It could also be just a trip wound or something else, don’t go and jump to conclusions!!” Daniel snapped, quieting everyone.

    “I mean, it’s that weak Jiho… And that seemed like it bled a lot… Like, his skin was literally ripped off… What else could it be but a bite wound…” one student reluctantly blurted, sowing doubt in everyone’s minds.

    Eunhee could only gasp at their words as she looked down, growing more out of breath by the minute as she felt the honesty in their words. Both she and Daniel knew Jiho wasn’t athletic, or robust.

    What else could it have been? She thought, shuddering at herself as a result.

    “Well… at least it’s just Jiho…”

    “WHAT…?” Daniel glared at the student who said that just before the rest nodded in relief at the statement. He immediately let go of Eunhee and stomped towards the student.

    “I-I mea— WOAH..!!” the student cried as Daniel clutched his shirt and held him upwards.

    “YOU SAY THAT AGAIN, YOU FUCKING SAY THAT AGAIN!!!” Daniel shouted in his face.

    “Wh—WHY DO YOU CARE… SO MUCH…!!? HE’S JUST SOME NOBODY, NO!!? HE’S JUST SOME MANIPULATIVE TRASH, ISN’T HE!!?” the student called in confusion. “At least it’s him dying and not us..!!” he said as Daniel held him high.

    The students looked at each other, silently nodding solemnly.

    Daniel’s eye twitched as he tightened his grip on the student’s shirt.

    ‘No… what… what have I done…?’ Daniel thought as his face grew paler by the minute. ‘JIHO…. NO..!’

    “But…” Daniel started, “He’s… he’s still one of us… He’s a student… To… to say something… like that…!!” he said, as he then felt Eunhee’s touch on his back.

    As he felt her touch, his feelings, rather than relaxing, only escalated.