The sun was dying in the sky.
Ji-hoon felt it in his bones before the system even warned him.
What had been gold and warm was now cold and shadowed. The trees that once looked peaceful now loomed like watchers, twisting in the wind. Dusty—the black quarter horse—snorted and paced nervously beneath him, ears pinned flat.
Ji-hoon tugged the rope reins and glanced at the pulsing compass in his jacket.
The light was dimming fast.
Then came the notification.
[WARNING: Nightfall Has Begun]
Mutated Infected Now Active
Remaining Distance to Trader's Camp: 4.8 miles
Recommendation: Seek Shelter Immediately
"Perfect," he muttered. "Of course it's still five miles."
Dusty shifted under him, hooves digging into the dirt. The horse knew—instincts sharper than Ji-hoon's would ever be.
And then… the first howl.
Low. Distant. But long and broken like a scream choked halfway through a throat.
Ji-hoon gripped the rope tighter. "Nope. Not staying out here."
He urged Dusty forward. They galloped down the half-faded trail, dodging trees and broken fences, weaving between shadows that felt like they were leaning in closer with every second.
Then the compass blinked red.
The trail ahead was blocked—fallen trees, too many to jump. And now another howl.
Closer.
Ji-hoon's breath caught. He turned Dusty sharply and dove into the woods.
No path. Just broken brush and forest.
Branches tore at his coat. Dust slapped his face. The hooves thundered against roots and leaves.
Then—finally—he saw it.
A crooked shack half-buried in thorns, leaning to one side like it wanted to fall over. The roof was patched with metal scraps. One window, shattered. The front door open just a crack.
It was nothing.
But it was something.
He jumped off Dusty, pulled the door open, and shoved the horse inside with him.
The room was pitch black, smelling of old ash and rotting wood. A fireplace, some shelves, a moldy chair. One table. No other doors. No windows except the broken one, which he quickly boarded with a shelf.
Then came the new ping.
[Temporary Shelter Found]
Status: Shelter Secured
Noise Sensitivity: HIGH
Time Until Dawn: 8 Hours, 43 Minutes
WARNING: Proximity to Hostile Lifeforms Detected
Ji-hoon slumped against the wall and lit the tiniest flame in the fireplace using flint and dry paper. Not enough to light the room—just enough to warm his fingers. The flickering light danced over the dusty floor, casting long shadows against the far wall.
Dusty lay down near the door, silent but alert.
Ji-hoon didn't sleep. Not even for a minute.
Every few seconds, a creak outside. Every few minutes, a low groan carried on the wind.
And then...
A voice.
Soft.
Clear.
Feminine.
"Help... me... please... I'm hurt…"
Ji-hoon's head snapped toward the boarded window.
It sounded human. Fragile. Desperate.
He stood slowly and approached the door, heart pounding.
Then—he stopped.
"No," he whispered. "That doesn't make sense."
No footsteps. No cries before that. Just… a voice. Perfectly placed. No fear in it. Just enough pain to lure someone in.
And the system confirmed his fear.
[Monster Identified: Mimic]
Type: Advanced Infected
Threat Level: High
Behavior: Lures prey by mimicking human voices and sounds. Avoid all interaction.
Known Weakness: Fire, Iron, Salt
Current Distance: Unknown
Warning: Do not respond. Do not open the door. Do not speak.
Ji-hoon backed away slowly.
The voice called again. This time clearer, more frantic.
"Please… I can't walk… is anyone in there?"
The words didn't echo.
Didn't even tremble.
Just like a recording—clean, placed, emotionless.
Dusty neighed, trembling. The horse felt it too.
Ji-hoon took out his last piece of salted jerky and quietly sprinkled some over the wooden floor near the door. He dug through his inventory, heart racing, until he found the iron nail from the farmhouse. He held it tight.
The voice changed.
Now it was a child.
"Papa… papa, I'm cold… let me in, please…"
The scratch of tiny hands at the door followed.
He closed his eyes.
It was a game, yes. But it felt real. And whatever was outside? It didn't belong in any normal game design. This wasn't some basic zombie script. This was fear programming. Smart AI.
He crouched down and placed the nail beside the door like a ward. The scratching stopped immediately.
Silence.
For five seconds.
Then—slam.
Something heavy crashed into the back wall of the shack.
Dusty jumped. Ji-hoon dove to the side.
A long claw scraped across the wood.
Another.
Another.
Whatever it was, it was circling the shack—looking for weak spots.
Ji-hoon gripped his pickaxe tightly and stared at the fire.
[Time: 2:44 AM]
Threat Level: CRITICAL
Mimic Presence: Confirmed – Circling Structure
Reminder: Shelter is not fortified. Hold until Dawn.
He whispered to himself. "Don't move. Don't speak. Don't even breathe loud."
The mimic didn't growl. Didn't scream. It waited. It learned.
And then… another voice.
This time it was his mother's voice.
"Ji-hoon… are you in there, son? Please, open up."
His heart stopped.
He hadn't heard her voice in years. Not since…
"Damn you," he whispered through clenched teeth. "This game is evil."
He shoved more broken furniture into the cracks of the wall. Every small sound made his skin crawl.
He didn't know how long it lasted. But finally, finally…
a faint sound of birds in the trees.
A golden sliver of light across the shack floor.
[5:58 AM]
[NIGHT SURVIVED]
Mimic Activity: Dormant
Status: Safe to Exit Shelter]
Ji-hoon opened the door slowly. Cold air rushed in, full of morning dew and silence.
No monsters. No whispers. Just forest again.
He turned to Dusty, patted his side, and whispered, "Let's get out of here."
As they walked back into the trail, Ji-hoon noticed something etched into a nearby tree. Three claw marks. Deep. Precise.
And beneath them, written in blood:
"I'll be back at night."