At nine, on the same gray and cloudy morning, the city still felt uneasy.
A tall wall of white and gray concrete stretched ahead—modern and old buildings standing side by side. Windows glimmered faintly under the dull sky. Ambulances waited in line, while taxis idled by the curb as if searching for passengers. The flag outside waved gently in the cold breeze, and from afar came the faint sound of car horns and sirens.
Inside the hospital, the air smelled of alcohol and metal. Long hallways stretched beneath harsh fluorescent lights—bright, yet lifeless. The echo of hurried footsteps filled the corridor as nurses moved with clipboards in hand. Carts rolled, machines beeped, and curtains swayed softly. In the lobby, patients, doctors, and nurses passed each other in a blur—every movement fast, every voice focused.
Up on the tenth floor, a quiet room rested above it all.
Four hospital beds lined the walls, separated by thin blue curtains. Beside each one stood an oxygen tank. A television mounted on the wall played the morning news—live coverage of the strange and bloody incident on Ongpin Street and the Creek Canal. The reporter's voice echoed faintly through the room, but no one was awake to hear it.
Two men lay sleeping—Louie on the right, Zep on the left. Both wore hospital gowns, their bodies marked with bruises and bandages from what had happened the night before.
For a while, everything stayed still.
Then—the dextrose line beside Zep began to shake.
The television flickered. The sound broke into static. And then, without warning—
BOOGSH!
The whole building shook. The floor rumbled like thunder beneath the walls. Lights flashed and flickered—crack! crack!—as the ceiling rattled above.
Empty beds rolled and slammed into each other. Metal curtain rods clanged—tingk! tangk!—like hammers striking steel. Then came the sound of shattering glass—KRRRSH!—as windows burst open and a cold wind rushed inside, howling through the tenth floor like a storm.
Louie fell from his bed—thud!—and hit the floor hard. He gasped, eyes snapping open. For a moment, he lay there, ears ringing, breath sharp and heavy. His body ached, pain shooting through his arms and side as he tried to move. He was confused.
Then—silence.
The earthquake lasted only three seconds, but it felt much longer.
"Ughh… oh my, it hurts," Louie groaned, clutching his lower back where he'd fallen.
When he finally stood, the room looked like a disaster zone. Curtains were half-torn, beds pushed out of place, and shards of glass glittered across the floor. The ceiling lights flickered weakly, buzzing in and out, while the cold wind blew in from the broken window.
As he steadied himself, a blast of air hit his face. Louie raised his arm, blocking it.
"What's that? Why's the wind so strong?" he muttered, frowning, still dazed and unsure of what had just happened.
The sharp wind brushed against his skin again—and suddenly, a thought struck him. Zep.
Louie's heart tightened. He turned toward the curtain beside him and began walking slowly, worry clouding his face. Each step crunched softly—crrk, krsh—against the glass and debris scattered on the floor. The air trembled faintly around him, as if still remembering the quake.
"Zep… I hope you're okay," Louie thought.
He moved carefully—but then—tsk!—his foot landed on something sharp. Pain shot through his leg like fire.
"Oh—ahh! That hurts!" he cried, voice echoing across the ruined room. He hissed, lifting his foot before forcing himself to move again. Limping, he reached the curtain separating him from Zep. His fingers shook as he pulled it aside—
—and froze.
Zep was floating in midair.
His body hung a few inches above the bed, weightless, as if the wind itself were holding him up. The air around him rippled faintly—whoooosh…—a low, swirling hum that seemed to breathe on its own. His hair drifted upward, his hospital gown fluttering lightly, untouched by gravity.
Louie's eyes widened. "Oh my goodness… Zep?!" he gasped, stepping back in disbelief. His voice cracked, caught between fear and confusion.
He looked around, half-expecting someone else to see it—but the room was empty. Only the broken window answered, whispering hwooohhh through the torn curtains.
Louie swallowed hard, his pulse pounding in his ears. Gathering his courage, he took a slow step forward. "Zep…" he whispered, reaching out a trembling hand.
But before he could touch him—
BOOM!
A burst of air exploded around Zep, slamming into Louie's chest. The blast threw him backward—his feet skidding, arms flailing—until he hit the foot of the bed. The wind howled again, colder this time—WHOOOOSH!—as the lights flickered violently overhead.
Louie lay there, chest heaving, staring at Zep through the chaos.
He couldn't understand what was happening—only that something beyond reason had awakened.
Zep remained floating in the wind that surrounded him. His hair had turned gray-white, and his body twitched faintly, as if trapped in a deep dream. Darkness began to swallow his senses—until he suddenly woke.
He was lying on cold, rough pavement.
When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the full moon—bright and yellow—its light washing over him like pale fire. As he slowly rose, he noticed the buildings around him—silent, tall, and unfamiliar.
He blinked, confused. "What place is this? Why is it so dark?" he muttered to himself.
Lights shone from every window of the buildings and houses, but there was no one inside. The air was heavy, and the trees nearby were bare—branches only, stripped of life. Zep knocked on a door and peeked through the window, but no one answered.
"Why can't I see anyone?" he said again, louder this time. "Is there anyone here? Hello?!"
His voice echoed faintly, lost in the wind.
Zep kept walking down the empty road, eyes darting left and right, hoping to find a single soul. But there was only silence and the wind brushing against his skin. As he wandered, the place began to look familiar.
"Huh… this is near our school," he whispered, a small spark of relief in his tone. Maybe he'd find someone there.
But he didn't know what awaited him.
He kept moving—until he began to hear voices. Familiar ones. The voices of people he knew… people who had once been part of his life. They were coming from the direction of the school.
Zep's eyes lit up. He smiled, heart racing, and began to run toward the sound.
Above him, the full moon suddenly turned red—like it had been drenched in blood.
Zep glanced up but ignored it, too focused on the voices ahead.
The wind shifted—colder now, sharper—and his excitement slowly turned into unease. A strange chill crept down his spine. Still, he ran faster.
He remembered Kayla and Louie—how they were with him just yesterday.
Then—thud!—his foot hit something solid. He stumbled and fell hard onto the pavement.
"Ouch! W-what was that?" he groaned, rubbing his knee.
When he turned around—his eyes widened.
He had stepped on a severed arm, blood soaking the concrete around it.
Zep froze. His breath caught in his throat. He stumbled back, trembling, his whole body heavy with terror. Then—instinct took over. He got up and ran toward the school.
The closer he got, the worse it became. Blood painted the streets, smeared across the walls and sidewalks. The smell of iron filled the air.
Then he saw them—ten shadows kneeling in front of the school, backs turned, huddled together like they were doing something.
Zep stopped. His knees weakened. He took a small step backward, heart pounding in his ears.
Then the shadows moved.
They separated and slowly turned toward him.
Zep's breath hitched as he saw their faces—and what they were eating.
His classmates. His friends. Louie. Kayla. Even his mother.
Their bodies torn apart, being devoured by those creatures as if it were a feast.
Zep's skin crawled. His blood ran cold.
The creatures turned fully toward him now, jaws dripping, eyes gleaming with hunger.
They didn't hesitate.
They lunged.
Zep screamed and ran—crying, trembling, every sound around him swallowed by his own fear.
Zep's pace began to slow, his breaths growing shallow as his legs trembled beneath him. The air felt heavier now—thick and cold beneath the red moon.
Then—something moved.
A shadow crept into the moonlight, long and massive, slithering across the ground.
Zep froze. His eyes darted toward it, fear clutching his chest.
Slowly, he turned around—
—and saw it.
A towering creature loomed behind him, its body stretched and twisted, jaws wide open as if ready to swallow him whole.
To be continued..