The path ahead was treacherous, littered with debris and remnants of a city that had been abandoned to the elements. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and the silence was suffocating. Each step Yeon-ah took felt heavier than the last, her mind reeling from the recent encounter with the Deborer. Despite having narrowly escaped with their lives, the memory of the creatures' oily black skin and glowing eyes haunted her.
Beside her, the woman walked with her usual, unyielding stride. She hadn't spoken much since the fight, but Yeon-ah had grown used to her silence. It was her way—cold, calculating, and always alert. Yet, as they moved deeper into the ruins, even the woman seemed on edge.
Yeon-ah could feel it too. Something was wrong.
"They won't stay buried forever," the woman said, her voice breaking the silence. "Those things... they're not just mindless monsters."
Yeon-ah swallowed, the unease creeping up her spine. "What are they, then?"
The woman didn't answer immediately. Instead, she slowed her pace, her eyes scanning the area as if she were searching for something. "I don't know," she finally said, her tone low. "But they're organized. More than you realize."
That thought chilled Yeon-ah. The Deborer were terrifying enough as beasts, but the idea that they might be organized, that they could think and coordinate, was far worse.
They continued in silence, the tension growing with each passing minute. Yeon-ah's mind raced with questions—questions she knew the woman wouldn't answer. But she couldn't help it. Ever since the world had fallen apart, everything seemed to get more confusing, more terrifying by the day.
"Where are we going?" Yeon-ah asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The woman glanced at her, then back at the path ahead. "There's a place nearby. A safe zone... or what's left of it. We can rest there. But don't get your hopes up."
Yeon-ah didn't respond. She wasn't sure she had any hopes left. The city had been her home, and now it was nothing but rubble and ash. Whatever safe zone the woman was leading them to was likely just as destroyed.
They walked for what felt like hours, the sky growing darker as the sun dipped below the horizon. The temperature dropped, and a cold wind swept through the broken streets. Yeon-ah shivered, pulling her tattered jacket tighter around her.
"We're close," the woman said, her voice cutting through the silence.
Yeon-ah nodded, though exhaustion was beginning to weigh her down. Her muscles ached from the constant running and fighting, and her mind was foggy with fatigue. But she pushed herself forward, knowing that stopping now wasn't an option.
Finally, they reached what appeared to be the remnants of an underground station. The entrance was partially collapsed, but the woman motioned for Yeon-ah to follow her inside. They carefully made their way down the cracked, uneven steps, the darkness swallowing them as they descended into the depths of the city.
The air inside was damp and stale, the faint smell of mildew clinging to the walls. The dim light from above quickly faded, leaving them in near darkness. Yeon-ah's heart raced, her senses on high alert as they navigated the narrow, winding tunnels.
"Stay close," the woman whispered.
Yeon-ah nodded, her hand instinctively tightening around the makeshift blade she carried. The walls seemed to close in around them, the narrow passageways feeling suffocating. Every sound echoed through the darkness, the dripping of water from unseen pipes, the distant scurrying of rats, and the occasional creak of old metal.
They reached an open area, what had once been the main platform of the station. The space was vast, the ceiling high above them cracked and broken. The tracks that had once carried trains were now overgrown with weeds and debris.
"This is it," the woman said, her voice echoing off the walls.
Yeon-ah looked around, trying to make sense of the place. It didn't feel safe. In fact, it felt the opposite. The shadows seemed to cling to the corners, and every noise made her jump.
"How do we know it's safe?" Yeon-ah asked, her voice shaking slightly.
The woman glanced at her, a faint smirk on her lips. "We don't."
Before Yeon-ah could respond, a sound echoed through the station—something different from the creaks and groans of the decaying structure. It was faint, but unmistakable. Footsteps.
Yeon-ah's breath caught in her throat. She gripped her blade tighter, her eyes scanning the darkness.
"We're not alone," the woman said, her voice barely above a whisper.
They moved quickly, hiding behind a large concrete pillar that had fallen across the platform. Yeon-ah's heart raced, her mind running wild with possibilities. Was it more of the Deborer? Or something worse?
The footsteps grew louder, closer. Whoever—or whatever—it was, they weren't in a hurry. They moved with purpose, each step deliberate and slow.
Yeon-ah's pulse quickened. She could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. She glanced at the woman beside her, hoping for some kind of reassurance, but her face was set in its usual stoic expression.
Then, from the darkness, a figure emerged.
It was a man, tall and lean, his face obscured by the shadows. He wore tattered clothing, his movements slow and deliberate. But there was something off about him—something that made Yeon-ah's skin crawl.
The woman beside her tensed, her hand moving to the hilt of her blade. "Stay down," she whispered.
Yeon-ah nodded, barely breathing as she watched the man move through the station. He didn't seem to notice them—or if he did, he didn't care. His eyes were fixed on something in the distance, his steps slow and measured.
Then, without warning, the man stopped. He turned slightly, his gaze sweeping over the area, and for a moment, his eyes met Yeon-ah's.
Her heart stopped.
There was something in his eyes—something cold, unfeeling, almost... hollow. It was as if he wasn't human, as if there was something else behind those eyes, something dark and twisted.
Before Yeon-ah could react, the man turned away, disappearing into the shadows once more.
The woman let out a slow breath, her hand still on her blade. "We need to go. Now."
Yeon-ah didn't argue. She followed the woman as they quickly made their way back toward the entrance. Her mind was racing, her heart pounding in her chest. Whoever that man was, he wasn't normal. There was something wrong with him, something that made her stomach turn.
As they reached the surface, Yeon-ah glanced back at the entrance to the station, a sense of unease settling over her.
"What was that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The woman didn't answer right away. She stared at the darkened entrance for a moment before finally speaking.
"There are worse things out here than the Deborer," she said, her tone grim. "And that was one of them."
Yeon-ah's heart sank. She had thought the Deborer were the worst of it, but now she realized that the true horrors of this world were just beginning to reveal themselves.
And she wasn't sure if she was ready to face them.