On the outskirts of Seoul, at the entrance of an abandoned building's basement, three detectives stood before a massive iron door set into the ground. The door was heavily corroded, stained a dark reddish-brown with rust, and it was locked tight—no matter how hard they had tried to force it, it wouldn't budge. Thin tendrils of crimson fog seeped out from the narrow gaps around the door, slowly coiling around the detectives' ankles. Jung Hae-jun, Yun Tae-sik, and Choi Do-yoon scarcely dared to breathe as they scanned the darkness in every direction. A bead of cold sweat rolled down Hae-jun's forehead and traced a chill path along the back of his neck. In the oppressive silence, a faint metallic stench hung in the air, like the mingled scent of blood and rust.
Suddenly, the air around them grew noticeably colder. Each detective's breath escaped in pale white puffs that billowed briefly before the mist swallowed them. The red fog clinging at their feet abruptly thickened, the swirling tendrils deepening into a dense crimson shroud without a sound. Hae-jun tightened his grip on the flashlight in one hand and the pistol in his other. He swept the flashlight's beam slowly across the surroundings, but the fog churned as if alive, threatening to devour even the light.
Beside him, Yun Tae-sik pressed his lips into a hard line and struggled to steady his breathing as he peered into the blackness. Still, he couldn't see a thing. Hae-jun's heart thumped harder in his chest with each passing second. Just then, a faint sound of footsteps—barely perceptible in the silence—suddenly cut off. Up until a moment ago, he could have sworn he heard soft footfalls somewhere beyond the door… now there was nothing. It was as if whatever was out there had frozen in place, holding its breath in the darkness as it watched them.
Hae-jun shot his partners a sharp, warning glance, silently signaling them to stay alert. The three detectives remained rooted to the spot, every muscle tensed and every nerve on edge as they strained to catch the slightest movement. A heavy, suffocating stillness pressed in around them. Then—from somewhere in the murk—a faint sound brushed past Hae-jun's ear, like the quiet inhale of someone trying not to be heard.
"Who's there…?" Yun whispered shakily, his voice barely audible. Hae-jun immediately raised a finger to his lips, urging silence. Yun's eyes darted about, wide and shining with fear.
At that moment, the crimson mist around them suddenly began to writhe. It coiled around the three detectives in a tightening circle and started to slowly spin, as if the fog itself had come alive. Just beyond the swirling haze, an eerie silhouette flickered into view for an instant—then disappeared. Hae-jun couldn't discern what it was, but something was definitely out there. He swallowed hard and swung his flashlight beam toward where the figure had been, but it had already vanished into the red murk. Immediately, the sounds of footsteps and faint breathing began to echo from all around them, coming from no discernible direction. It felt as though an invisible presence was circling them, toying with them—and Hae-jun's nerves stretched taut, a cold prickle of sweat creeping down his back.
A low, rasping chuckle rang out from somewhere close behind them—a sound like nails scraping over metal. The hair-raising noise drilled into Hae-jun's ears, sending an icy spike of dread down his spine. Yun jumped at the sound, giving a startled jolt. He spun around, pistol raised toward the darkness, but there was nothing behind them—only the thick red fog swirling in the void. Nothing moved, yet Hae-jun could sense that unseen presence out there, mocking them from just beyond the reach of the light.
"Who are you?! Show yourself, now!" Yun shouted into the darkness, trying to sound braver than he felt. His demand echoed off the crumbling concrete, but only silence answered.
Just as their tension hit a breaking point, a flurry of motion erupted in the fog. Without warning, a black silhouette surged out from the crimson haze, straight toward them. It moved impossibly fast—Hae-jun barely had time to register the vaguely human shape before the Specter's long, twisted arm lashed out like a bolt of lightning and slammed into Yun Tae-sik.
Yun had no chance to dodge. A strangled cry burst from his lips as a searing pain tore across his chest. The impact lifted him off his feet and flung him backward. He hit the ground hard, landing in a crumpled heap.
"Detective Yun!" Hae-jun cried out, panic spiking in his chest. He lunged toward Yun's fallen form, eyes wide with alarm. At the same time, Choi Do-yoon dropped to one knee beside Yun, snapping his pistol up in a two-handed grip as he aimed into the swirling fog. But before either of them could get a clear shot, the bizarre figure melted back into the red mist and vanished, as if it had never been there.
The red mist swirled thick around them once more, the alley plunged into an eerie, frigid silence. Hae-jun held his breath, heart pounding in his ears, as he glared into the fog, searching for any sign of movement. Beside him, Choi remained in a low stance, gun up and finger tense on the trigger, ready for the next attack. Yun Tae-sik was still down on the ground, propped on one knee as he gulped in air. His hands trembled so badly he could barely even hold onto his gun. There wasn't a trace of the creature to be seen; no matter how desperately Hae-jun searched the churning red fog, it was as if the Specter had vanished completely. He could even hear his own heartbeat thudding madly in the stillness.
"...You're scared…."
The words came as an eerie whisper from the void, drifting out from the fog with no visible source. The disembodied voice was low and taunting, and it made Hae-jun's blood run cold, a shudder knifing down his spine. Yun's breath hitched in his throat—he bit back a scream and snapped his head around in terror, but still there was nothing there. Only the endless red mist. Hae-jun darted a glance at Yun and saw the younger detective's shoulders quaking. Cold sweat glistened on Yun's face, and the muzzle of the pistol in his unsteady grip wavered wildly.
In the next instant, it hit. Without warning, a grotesquely long arm tipped with claw-like nails burst out of the fog. Before anyone could react, those pale, taloned fingers lunged for Yun and clamped around his throat, hoisting him off the ground as if he were weightless.
"Ghk—!" Yun choked out a strangled gurgle, his airway brutally cut off. The limb that held him aloft was abnormally gaunt yet muscular, its sinews twisting and veins bulging grotesquely under sickly pale skin. Its fingers ended in curved claws that gouged into Yun's neck. Utter terror flashed across Yun's face as his pistol slipped from his grasp, clattering uselessly to the floor. His legs flailed in the air, kicking helplessly at nothing.
In an instant, the Specter began to reel Yun into the crimson fog, dragging his writhing body toward the darkness.
"No!" Hae-jun shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. He hurled himself forward without hesitation. His hand shot out and just managed to grab hold of Yun's arm. But a moment later, an invisible, overwhelming force yanked Yun deeper into the darkness.
A desperate tug-of-war ensued—Hae-jun on one end and the unseen Specter on the other. Yun's face had gone white as chalk. He clung to Hae-jun's hand with every ounce of strength he had left, refusing to let go even as his body was relentlessly pulled forward. Yet that massive, unseen force kept dragging him inch by inch toward the gaping abyss beyond the door. Hae-jun planted his feet and heaved backward with all his might, his boots skidding along the concrete floor—he was being overpowered, sliding forward so hard that dust was grinding beneath his heels.
Bang! Bang! Two gunshots exploded behind Hae-jun—Choi Do-yoon had opened fire into the fog without hesitation. The muzzle flashes lit up the darkness for split seconds as bullets tore into the red haze. Yet there was no indication they'd hit anything at all. The shots simply whistled off into emptiness, one of them sparking off a concrete wall far beyond, missing the mark entirely. Spent shell casings clinked to the ground, but it seemed the monster hadn't even been grazed.
"D-Detective Jung…!" Yun gasped out, his voice barely a broken whisper. Hae-jun could hear the plea and terror in it. Yun's feet were dangling now, his toes scraping the floor as the Specter dragged him further into the air. Gritting his teeth, Hae-jun tightened his grip on Yun's arm and stubbornly planted himself, refusing to give an inch. Still, he could only watch in horror as Yun's torso slowly disappeared into the churning mist. Any second, Yun would be ripped from his grasp entirely.
"Don't you dare let go!" Hae-jun bellowed through clenched teeth. At the same time, his free hand frantically fumbled for the flashlight clipped to his belt. His fingers found it—he mashed the switch.
The flashlight flickered to life, its beam unsteady in his trembling grip as he thrust it toward the darkness. A spear of white light cut through the crimson fog, stabbing deep into the swirling gloom. In that glare, a monstrous form burst into view—one so nightmarish, Hae-jun almost wished he hadn't seen it.
It was towering—easily twice the height of a man—with unnaturally long, emaciated limbs twisted at impossible angles. Where its eyes should have been, twin orbs of smoldering crimson light pulsed with malevolent hunger. Its jaw hung agape in a grotesque grin that split its face from ear to ear, the mouth torn open far wider than any human could manage.
The instant the brilliant light struck it head-on, the Specter recoiled and let out a hideous shriek, like a wild beast being burned alive. A piercing, inhuman scream sliced through the darkness. Blinded and in agony, the Specter released Yun at once and lurched back into the cover of the fog. As its grip abruptly loosened, Yun plummeted to the ground. He hit the concrete with a jarring thud and collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut, wheezing and coughing. His trembling hands flew to his neck as he sucked in air, and a wet, hacking cough racked his chest. Around his throat, a vivid red handprint was already stamped into his skin.
But it wasn't over. Hae-jun's eyes narrowed—through the swirling mist, he sensed movement again. The fog was churning, eddying in swift currents. The Specter was on the move, darting rapidly to a new position. And this time, Hae-jun knew it was coming straight for him.
He didn't dare let his guard down. Re-adjusting his grip on his pistol, Hae-jun wiped his sweat-slick palm on his trouser leg and gulped down a breath. Even as raw fear clawed at him—knowing the Specter could spring from any direction—he desperately scanned the haze, determined to face it. The crimson mist had become a living wall around them now, thick and unforgiving, swallowing what little visibility remained.
And in the very next heartbeat, the Specter struck again. A sudden rush of icy air whipped past Hae-jun's side, razor-sharp against his cheek. He spun instinctively, just barely dodging as a long arm slashed out of the darkness behind him. Razor-like claws ripped across the concrete wall mere inches from his head, unleashing a ghastly screech as they raked stone. The creature was so fast—far too fast for human eyes to follow.
Suddenly, a sharp CLANG rang out from just a few feet away. Hae-jun flinched, whipping his head toward the source of the noise. At some point, Choi had snatched up a rusted iron pipe that had been lying on the floor. He had swung it on pure instinct, trying to keep the Specter at bay. But the monster was too quick—Choi's improvised weapon whooshed through empty air and smashed into a metal conduit running along the wall instead.
The impact produced an ear-splitting metallic crash that reverberated through the underground space. Both Hae-jun and Choi winced, recoiling at the deafening noise. But in that same instant, the Specter reacted even more violently.
A shrill, earsplitting screech tore through the darkness. Across the room, the Specter recoiled, clutching its head with spindly claws as if the sound itself were unbearable. In the brief moment that the monster faltered, reeling in agony from the unexpected noise, a realization flashed through Hae-jun's mind. Now's our last chance!
Hae-jun gritted his teeth and clamped down on the flashlight, determined not to let it slip from his grasp. Then he swiftly re-aimed the beam and blasted the creature full in the face with light. The brilliant ray once again tore through the roiling crimson mist, laying the Specter's twisted features bare. The creature took the blinding beam straight on and convulsed in torment, its entire body writhing and flailing. A chorus of enraged, pain-choked howls erupted from its gaping maw, one after another.
"Now!" Hae-jun roared.
Choi Do-yoon understood instantly. With a ferocious shout, he raised the iron pipe and slammed it against the metal conduit with every ounce of strength left in his body.
CLANG! CLANG!