ECHOES OF TERROR: HOPE AT THE BROKEN DOOR

Year 2024, the Streets of Seoul, South Korea

The group moved cautiously along the desolate streets, their footsteps barely making a sound against the cracked pavement. The cold air hung heavy with the stench of decay, a grim reminder of the world they now lived in. Zera glanced over at Hailey, her expression tense yet determined.

“I know parting with Kaneisyeon must be the hardest for In-Ha,” Zera whispered, her voice barely audible. “But it was equally hard for Jeha as well. He took care of her after all.”

Hailey nodded, her brows furrowing. She leaned closer to Zera, her voice low and edged with doubt. “But do you think the kid would have survived?”

Zera stopped for a moment, turning to Hailey with a sharp look. “Hey, Hailey! You shouldn’t be saying stuff like that!” she whispered, her tone a mix of reprimand and disbelief.

Hailey swallowed hard, glancing down at her feet. “Listen,” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “I understand what you’re feeling. I understand what everyone’s feeling. But if you think about it—without resources or anything else—how long do you think someone can survive in a world like this?”

Zera opened her mouth to respond but quickly closed it again. Hailey’s words stung, not because they were harsh but because they held a grim truth that Zera couldn’t deny. The world they lived in now had stripped away hope and humanity. Hugging death had become almost routine.

Ahead of them, Jaeyeon and Yon kept their eyes sharp, guarding the group’s rear. Su-yeong and Hamin led at the front, their weapons drawn and ready. As they moved, Sae Joon Hyun found his thoughts spiraling. Something was off.

The group had encountered a horde not too long ago, yet now, the streets were eerily silent. The zombies that had previously seemed endless had simply… disappeared. Even when Jeha had cried earlier, no undead had been drawn to the sound. That was unheard of.

“What’s going on here?” Sae Joon Hyun muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the empty streets.

Jeha suddenly broke the silence, his voice cutting through the group’s tense thoughts. “The meat shop is around that corner.” He glanced at In-Ha, who walked beside him.

She gave him a terse nod, her expression unreadable. The group quickened their pace, their footsteps now deliberate and urgent. Soon, they were sprinting, following Jeha as he led them to the place that had haunted his memories.

The meat shop came into view, a gutted shell of its former self. The doors lay flat on the ground, broken and warped. Shards of glass littered the entrance, crunching softly under their boots. The foul stench of rotten meat wafted out, so pungent it made Yohan gag. He covered his nose with one hand, squinting as he surveyed the wreckage.

“Here? You were here?” Yohan asked, his voice filled with disbelief as he gestured to the ruined shop.

Jeha nodded, his eyes darting around the area. “There’s a window straight inside. I jumped out from there.” Without waiting for a response, he sprinted to the back of the shop.

“Wait!” Yohan called after him. “There might be zombies back there!”

But Jeha was already gone, his focus solely on retracing his steps. The others rushed after him, weapons ready. They rounded the back of the shop, bracing for an attack, but the area was eerily empty.

Eunhye let out a shaky sigh of relief. “Lucky,” she muttered under her breath.

“Are we?” Sae Joon Hyun replied, his tone heavy with suspicion.

Jeha stood still for a moment, his eyes scanning the surroundings as if piecing together fragments of a dream. The path he had taken with Kaneisyeon years ago was still vivid in his memory, etched into his mind by fear and desperation.

“And from here, the house was in a straight line,” he murmured to himself before breaking into a run once more.

The group exchanged glances, then followed close behind. Their breaths were labored, their hearts pounding with a mix of anticipation and dread as they sprinted toward the unknown.

Jeha came to a halt in front of a large mansion, its grandeur starkly contrasting with the desolate ruins that surrounded it. Though weathered by time and the chaos of the world outside, the structure still stood tall, its white walls now faded to a dull gray. The iron gates at the front were twisted and broken, leaning haphazardly, but the house itself remained intact, defying the destruction that had consumed much of the city.

“Here!” Jeha said, his voice filled with a mix of relief and desperation. “This is where I was with Kaneisyeon!”

His outburst was met with a sharp slap to the back of his head. “Shhh!” Eunhye hissed, glaring at him.

Jeha winced, rubbing the spot where her hand had landed. “Right, sorry,” he mumbled, lowering his voice.

The group exchanged uneasy glances before stepping cautiously through the broken gates. The air felt heavier here, as if the mansion carried its own weight of secrets. Jeha led the way, his movements quick but hesitant, as if afraid that the memories he clung to might crumble like the world around him.

The house looked exactly as he remembered it. The cracked paint, the overgrown garden, the faint traces of life that once thrived within its walls—it was all the same. Standing before the door, Jeha raised his hand, hesitating for a moment before knocking. The sound echoed faintly, and he swallowed hard, his throat dry with nerves.

Is anyone even inside? he wondered. Was Kaneisyeon still here? Was the lady who had cared for her still alive?

His mind raced with questions, each one more daunting than the last. Hope was a dangerous thing in a world like this, but he couldn’t stop himself from holding onto it. Please, let her be alive.

The silence that followed his knock was suffocating. Just as he was about to knock again, the door creaked open, the sound piercing the stillness around them. A small figure appeared in the doorway—a child, no more than two years old, with wide, curious eyes and tiny hands gripping the edge of the door.

“Quickly!” the child whispered, her voice barely audible yet commanding. She grabbed Jeha’s hand with surprising strength, pulling him inside before beckoning the others to follow. The group hesitated only for a moment before slipping through the doorway, their movements swift and quiet. Once they were all inside, the child pushed the heavy door shut with her tiny hands, the sound of the latch clicking into place echoing in the dimly lit entryway.

“Darling!” a woman’s voice called from deeper inside the house. It was firm yet laced with panic. “How many times have I told you not to open the door?”

The group froze as the voice grew louder, accompanied by the sound of hurried footsteps. A woman emerged from one of the side rooms, a shotgun clutched tightly in her hands. Her eyes darted to the group, her expression hardening in an instant.

Jeha’s breath caught in his throat as recognition washed over him. “Ma’am...” he whispered, his voice breaking.

The woman’s gaze shifted to him, her grip on the shotgun loosening slightly, though her stance remained defensive.

Jeha’s attention was drawn downward, to the little girl standing at his side. His eyes widened as he took in her features—the soft curls framing her face, the shape of her eyes, the faint resemblance that stirred something deep within him.

“You...” Jeha’s voice trembled as he knelt down, his knees hitting the wooden floor with a soft thud. Tears spilled from his eyes, blurring his vision as he reached out to the child. “You look so much like In-Ha, ma’am,” he said, his words choked with emotion.

The little girl blinked up at him, her expression curious but unafraid. Unable to hold back any longer, Jeha pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly as his tears fell freely. The weight of the world momentarily lifted from his shoulders as he held her, hope and despair colliding in his heart.

Behind him, the group watched in silence, their weapons lowered but their guard still up. The woman with the shotgun stood frozen, her lips parted as if to speak but no words came out.

In that moment, the chaos outside seemed to fade, leaving only the fragile bond between Jeha and the child who had brought him to his knees.