The night was swallowed by storm clouds.
Rain hammered against the empty road, lightning slicing the sky open every few seconds. A young girl drove through the darkness, gripping the steering wheel as thunder rolled like an angry beast.
Halfway home, her car coughed, stuttered… and died.
The fuel gauge was flat.
She sighed, stepped out into the freezing rain, and hugged her torch close to her chest. The night felt too quiet — the kind of quiet that makes your skin crawl.
After a few minutes of walking, she spotted a car parked ahead. A flicker of hope lit in her chest. She hurried toward it.
But then lightning flashed.
And she saw it.
A man… dragging a dead body from the car.
The scream ripped out of her throat before she could even think.
"Aaaah!"
The torch slipped from her hand as she turned and bolted into the forest, branches tearing at her clothes, mud splashing beneath her feet. Her heart beat faster than her steps.
Behind her — footsteps. Heavy ones.
The killer was chasing her.
She ran deeper into the forest, breath breaking, lungs burning. The darkness folded around her like a monster swallowing its prey.
(Intense music rising…)
He caught her.
Her voice didn't make it far.
And when the rain couldn't hide the smoke anymore, flames flickered through the trees —
(Frrr… fire crackling into the night…)
June 18,
Jong-u, twenty-seven, with a composed face and a quiet masculinity, stepped off the bus and looked up at the city ahead. Seoul's air felt heavy with opportunity — and secrets.
He had been searching for a place to live all morning, but every residence he visited crushed his hopes with impossible prices. His wallet was tired. His patience, too.
And then he found it.
"Eden Residence"
An old building perched at the edge of a narrow street, its windows dim, its hallways strangely silent. Something about it made the back of his neck tighten… but he didn't have the luxury to be picky.
Inside, he was greeted by Ms. Um, a woman in her late fifties with sharp eyes and a voice too soft to be trusted.
Ms. Um: Oh… welcome, young man. You must be here for a room.
Jong-u (nervously): Yes… I'd like to rent one.
Ms. Um: Perfect timing. The building is under renovation — that's why the rent is low.
Jong-u (relieved): That's great! Could you show me the room?
Ms. Um: Of course. Come this way. Room 303 is available.
Jong-u: Thank you. I think I'll stay here for about six months.
Room 303 greeted him with a stale, quiet air.
A single bed. A small study desk. Four walls closing in a bit too tightly. The room felt… untouched, like someone left in a hurry and never returned.
He scanned the room again.
No bathroom.
He stepped out and approached Ms. Um.
Jong-u: Sorry… is there no bathroom in the room?
Ms. Um: As you can see, dear, the rooms are quite small. You'll have to use the public bathroom.
Jong-u: Oh. Thank you…
(He walked away, a nervous shiver trailing behind him.)
The hallway lights flickered as he made his way to the public bathroom.
The air smelled faintly of damp walls and something metallic.
Inside, water dripped from the faucet in slow, eerie beats — drop… drop… drop…
Jong-u exhaled, reaching for the tap when—
A scream ripped through the corridor.
A sharp, blood-chilling cry.
(Aaaa…!!)
He froze.
Every muscle in his body locked.
The sound echoed… then faded…
leaving an unsettling silence that pressed against his ears.
(Intense music playing…)
Steam curled through the bathroom as Jong-u showered, the water tapping softly against the tiles. For a brief moment, he actually felt calm — like the strange scream from last night was just his imagination.
But calm never lasts long in Eden Residence.
Just as Jong-u rinsed his hair, someone burst into the bathroom.
A man — thin, pale, and twitchy — slipped on the wet floor and crashed down with a loud thud.
"Aaaa—!"
His scream echoed through the bathroom like a dying animal.
Startled, Jong-u shut the water off and grabbed a towel.
He rushed out of the stall and saw the man sprawled on the floor, giggling to himself.
His name was Boksu — psychopathic member #3, and twin brother of Subok.
Jong-u:
"Hey! Who… who are you? And why are you lying on the floor?"
Boksu lifted his head slowly, a grin stretching across his face.
Boksu:
"Hehe… oh! I just slipped. There's a lot of water here… Why? Are you scared?
Hehe… oh my goodness… hehe…"
His laugh didn't match his words.
It was too light. Too excited.
Too wrong.
Jong-u felt chills crawl down his spine.
He found the guy weird — unsettlingly weird — but forced himself to keep walking. After escaping the bathroom, he returned to his tiny room, still shaken.
As he passed Room 309, he heard something—
Soft moaning.
Strange noises.
The door was slightly open.
He peeked inside and saw another resident — psychopath member #5 — sitting on the bed, watching something on his phone with disturbing enthusiasm.
Jong-u backed away slowly.
Jong-u (whispering):
"Ah man… I'm screwed. Everyone here is weird."
He shut himself inside Room 303 and locked the door.
Sleep didn't come easily.
When the light crept through the window…
He dressed up quickly and left the residence to meet his friend and senior from work, Mr. Shin, the CEO of his company.
Mr. Shin:
"Hey! Jong-u! Long time no see!"
He waved cheerfully, unaware of the dark clouds hanging over Jong-u's life.
Just as Jong-u started crossing the road to meet him, a truck suddenly screeched—
CRASH!
A horrible accident exploded across the street.