The bus glided to a stop, and a few more passengers climbed aboard. In-su slouched deeper into his seat, his thoughts still racing. He couldn't stop glancing at his reflection, half expecting it to wink at him or start moving independently.
"And the eyes," he muttered under his breath, glaring at the gray orbs in the window. "Who thought it was a good idea to give me villain eyes? I look like I should be plotting world domination, not riding a damn bus!"
As the bus began moving again, In-su sighed and leaned his head back against the seat, closing his eyes briefly. The hum of the engine and the gentle swaying of the vehicle were oddly comforting.
"Alright, focus," he thought. "Step one: figure out where I am. Step two: figure out why I'm here. Step three: cut this damn bun off because there's no way I'm walking around looking like this. And step four—oh god, what if I have a job in the future? What if I'm late? What if I work for one of those creepy hologram companies where everyone smiles too much?"
The absurdity of his own thoughts made him chuckle, but the sound came out strained. The truth was, he was scared—scared of what this world meant, scared of what had happened to him, and scared of what he'd find if he kept digging.
"Guess I'll just have to figure it out one step at a time," he muttered, staring out the window as the futuristic city blurred past. "But seriously, the first thing I'm doing when I get back—if I ever get back—is banning messy buns for life."
The bus screeched to a halt at the stop, its metallic body groaning under the sudden strain. In-su was practically thrown forward by the momentum, clutching onto a pole to steady himself. Before he could fully regain his balance, the doors hissed open with an impatient swish. The sharp smell of overheated brakes wafted through the air, mingling with the faint chemical tang of whatever cleaning solution they used—if they bothered to clean at all.
"Next stop, hurry up!" barked the bus's automated voice, cold and mechanical, as if it couldn't care less whether he made it out or not.
In-su stumbled off the bus, his feet awkwardly landing on uneven pavement. As soon as his shoes touched the ground, the bus shot off with a deafening whoosh, leaving a gust of wind that tousled his hair and sent dust flying into his face. He coughed, waving a hand in front of him, squinting against the sudden cloud of dirt.
"Well, that's one way to kick someone out," he muttered under his breath, brushing the dust off his clothes.
When the air finally cleared, he took a moment to look around. His brow furrowed. The area was quiet. Too quiet. There wasn't a single person in sight, no cars, no sounds of life, not even the faint hum of distant machinery. Just the chirping of birds and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze.
"Did I miss the part where I entered the Twilight Zone?" he mumbled, turning in a slow circle.
The road stretched ahead of him in a lonely, winding line, flanked by towering trees whose branches reached over the path like skeletal fingers. The trees swayed gently, their shadows dancing on the ground, but instead of feeling calming, it only made the place seem more eerie.
He glanced at the crumpled piece of paper in his hand, its corners damp with sweat from his nervous grip. The directions were scrawled in messy handwriting, almost illegible, as if whoever had written it couldn't be bothered to ensure it made sense.
"Follow the path. Turn left. Keep going up... Well, that's helpful," he muttered sarcastically, squinting at the barely coherent instructions. "Could've just drawn a map or something."
He sighed, tucking the paper into his pocket as he started walking. His footsteps echoed against the gravel, a lonely sound that only amplified the silence around him.
The path became steeper with every step, eventually giving way to a staircase carved from uneven stone. Each step was a challenge, the sharp incline making his calves burn and his breathing grow heavier. His hand occasionally brushed against the cool stone railing as he climbed, though the moss growing on it made him hesitate to lean on it too much.
"This is ridiculous," he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow. "All this for... what? Couldn't the future invent some kind of teleportation device? Nooo, they have floating buses, but stairs are apparently too much to upgrade."
He paused to catch his breath, glancing back at the road below. It stretched out like a ribbon between the trees, fading into the horizon. For a moment, he considered turning back.
"No," he muttered firmly. "I've come this far. Whatever's at the end of this ridiculous staircase better be worth it."
Just as he was about to resume climbing, he spotted a figure descending the stairs ahead of him. It was a man, hunched under the weight of a large sack slung over his shoulder. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if the burden was almost too much for him to bear.
"Hey!" In-su called out, waving an arm. "Excuse me! Can you help me?"
The man paused, his face obscured by the shadow of his wide-brimmed hat. He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to figure out what In-su was doing there. After a long moment, he raised a bony hand and pointed further up the stairs.
"Uh, okay. Thanks, I guess," In-su muttered, watching as the man shuffled past him without another word, the sack on his shoulder swaying with each step.
He shook his head and continued upward. The stairs seemed endless, twisting and turning as they climbed higher into the forest. His legs screamed in protest, and his lungs burned with every breath, but he pushed on, fueled by equal parts determination and sheer stubbornness.
Finally, the staircase ended, and he stumbled onto a small clearing. In front of him stood a house—a small, weathered structure that looked like it had been standing there for centuries. Its wooden walls were cracked and faded, the once-vibrant paint peeling away in long, jagged strips. Vines crept up the sides, curling around the windows and doorframe as if trying to pull the house back into the earth.
Panting, In-su leaned against the wall, wiping the sweat from his face. "Wow," he muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "This is... something. Why does it feel like I've been here before?"
The thought sent a shiver down his spine, but he shook it off. Now wasn't the time for weird feelings. He straightened up and cupped his hands around his mouth.
"HELLOOO! Is anyone home? Hellooo!"
The house remained silent.
Frowning, he stepped closer, peering through one of the cracked windows. Just as he was about to call out again, he noticed something strange—a thin, red mist seeping out from under the door. It curled and twisted like smoke, but it moved with an almost sentient grace, wrapping around his ankles and swirling through the air.
"What the hell?" he muttered, backing away instinctively. "Where's this mist coming from? Is this... normal for the future?"
Despite every instinct telling him to turn around and leave, curiosity got the better of him. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, the red mist thickening as he entered.
"Hello?" he called out again, his voice echoing in the empty space.
A shadow flickered in the corner of his eye, and he turned sharply.
"Oh, a person!" Relief flooded his voice. "Hey! Sir? Ma'am? Or, uh... whatever you identify as?"
The shadow loomed larger, its presence filling the air with a suffocating tension. Its outline shifted unnaturally, as though it wasn't bound by the rules of the physical world. The mist seemed to thicken around it, swirling in response to its movements like it had a life of its own.
As the figure stepped forward, the faint glow of dim red light illuminated its form, and In-su's stomach dropped. Whatever this thing was, it wasn't human.
Its legs were long and gnarled, bending backward at the knees like some horrific predator built to chase and capture. The creature's torso was emaciated, its ribs jutting out prominently under sickly, gray skin that looked stretched too tight over its body. Its arms were disproportionately long, ending in clawed hands that twitched and flexed as though aching to tear into flesh.
The most horrifying feature, however, was its face—or what could loosely be described as a face. Its head was bulbous, too large for its slender neck, and its skin appeared almost translucent, with dark veins pulsing beneath the surface. Hollow eye sockets glowed with a faint, eerie crimson, voids of malice that seemed to bore directly into In-su's soul. Its mouth was the worst of all—a gaping maw that split its face grotesquely wide, lined with jagged, uneven teeth, each one coated in a dark, viscous liquid.
In-su's breath caught in his throat as the creature let out a low, guttural growl. The sound wasn't loud, but it was chilling, a noise that triggered something primal in him—a deep, instinctual fear that told him to run.
He stumbled back a step, his feet crunching against the gravel. "W-what the hell is that?" he whispered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. His mind raced, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Was this some kind of hallucination? A prank? It couldn't be real—there was no way something like this could exist.
The creature tilted its head, the movement unnervingly slow, almost curious. It raised one of its long, clawed hands and pointed a single, bony finger at In-su. Its mouth opened, and for a moment, there was only silence. Then, in a voice that was a grotesque parody of humanity, it spoke.
"Your... selve..."
The words were garbled and distorted, as though the creature was struggling to mimic human speech. The sound sent a shiver down In-su's spine, and his knees threatened to give out beneath him.
"W-what... what did you just say?" he stammered, his voice cracking.
The creature took another step forward, its claws dragging along the ground with a sharp, grating noise. Its glowing eyes locked onto In-su, unblinking, unrelenting.
"Your... selve..." it repeated, the words dripping with malice.
In-su's legs finally obeyed his brain's desperate command to move, and he stumbled back another step. "Stay back!" he shouted, his voice rising in panic. He looked around wildly for something—anything—that could be used as a weapon, but the ground around him was bare, save for rocks and dirt.
The creature lunged.
It moved with horrifying speed, closing the distance between them in a blur of motion. In-su barely had time to react before he felt a sharp, searing pain in his abdomen. He gasped, his eyes widening as he looked down to see a jagged, bony appendage impaling him through the stomach.
"N-no... no way..." he choked, blood bubbling at his lips. His hands instinctively grabbed at the creature's arm, but its skin was cold and unyielding, like stone.
The creature leaned in closer, its grotesque face mere inches from In-su's own. Its breath was foul, reeking of decay and rot, and its glowing eyes seemed to pulse with malevolent delight.
"Your... selve..." it hissed again, its voice a whisper that echoed like a scream in In-su's ears.
Pain radiated through his body, but it was quickly drowned out by something else—something primal and dark stirring deep within him. His vision blurred, the edges of the world fading to black, and then...
EAT.
The word thundered through his mind, a single, guttural command that drowned out everything else.
"What...?" In-su murmured weakly, his voice barely a whisper.
EAT. SURVIVE.
His body moved on its own, driven by a force he didn't understand. His hands shot up to grab the creature's face, his nails digging into its flesh with inhuman strength. The creature let out a screech, the sound sharp and piercing, but In-su didn't stop.
His teeth—no, his fangs—sank into the creature's neck, tearing through its tough skin like paper. Hot, metallic blood gushed into his mouth, and the taste was overwhelming, both sickening and intoxicating.
In-su's vision turned red as he tore into the creature with a ferocity he didn't know he possessed. The world around him dissolved into chaos, the only thing that mattered was the primal hunger driving him forward.
The creature writhed and thrashed, its claws raking across his skin, but he didn't feel the pain. All he felt was the satisfaction of tearing it apart, piece by piece, devouring its flesh and drinking its blood.
As the last of the creature's life drained away, In-su staggered back, his chest heaving. His hands were soaked in blood, his mouth smeared with it. He caught his reflection in a puddle on the ground and froze.
His eyes glowed a deep crimson, his pupils reduced to thin slits. His teeth were still elongated, his fangs bared, and his face was twisted into a feral snarl.
"What... what's happening to me?" he whispered, his voice trembling.
Before he could process what he'd just done, his vision blurred again. The world spun, and he collapsed to the ground, darkness swallowing him whole.