"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
Hong Daewon sprinted down the ruined street, lungs burning, legs screaming, the slap of his sneakers drowned out by the monstrous chorus behind him.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of zombies thundered after him, their distorted shrieks echoing through the corpse-littered cityscape.
The apocalypse had come without warning.
It had only been two days.
Two days since everything fell apart. Two days since people started collapsing—coughing, convulsing, and bleeding black sludge.
At first, it was panic. Hospitals overflowed, governments scrambled, and social media flooded with videos no one believed.
But within hours, those who collapsed got up again. With rotting skin. Milky white eyes. Gnashing teeth.
And they were hungry.
They tore through the living like paper. Bitten victims turned in minutes. Civilization didn't fall—it exploded.
Hong Daewon had just finished a late lecture at university when it started. He never even got back to his dorm. Since then, he'd scavenged food, evaded death, and fought to survive with nothing but his instincts. He was smart, fast, and lucky.
But today?
Today felt like the end.
"Fuck!" he swore again, vaulting over a broken car hood as a zombie nearly clawed at his ankle. His black hair clung to his sweat-slicked forehead, his eyes wide with desperation. He was handsome, even now—tall, lean, sharp-jawed.
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He had to get home. Just one look at his mother and sister. Just to know they were safe. That was all he wanted. That was the only reason he'd risked crossing a city full of monsters.
And then... the goddamn rat.
He'd been careful—cutting through alleys, crawling through windows, staying low. But a metal shard, kicked loose by some rat on a rooftop, fell and clanged against a car. Loud enough for the dead to notice. Loud enough to blow his cover.
Now they were all chasing him.
And worse...
"No… no no no!" he whispered, glancing back.
Two figures broke ahead of the horde—mutants.
Faster. Smarter. Deadlier.
The infected that evolved were nicknamed Ragers—humans turned into sprinting nightmares, with twitching muscles and savage speed. Their skin was tighter, glossier, like it had been stretched over muscle. Eyes bloodshot. Jaws unhinged.
The Ragers shrieked and leapt over the other zombies like rabid wolves, claws dragging across walls as they homed in on him like missiles.
The world narrowed to breath and panic. Hong Daewon's chest heaved like it was about to explode. The rotting stench of the undead clung to the air like smoke.
And then—
A hand yanked him hard to the side.
He was dragged behind a massive chunk of collapsed concrete—once a highway pillar—now just another tombstone in the wasteland. Before he could shout, a splash of cold liquid soaked his body.
"Wh—!"
Daewon's cry was muffled instantly. A rough, calloused hand clamped over his mouth. The other hand—a firm one—held a blackened M16 rifle close to his temple.
Daewon froze. His back pressed against a muscular chest. The scent of gasoline was overpowering now.
Fuel? Why—?
His panicked breathing slowed as the chaos stampeded past.
The herd of zombies didn't even glance their way.
But the two Ragers...
They halted. Just beyond the rock.
Snarling. Sniffing. One dragged its claws against the stone, a grating screech that made Daewon's hair stand on end.
He didn't move. Didn't blink.
Seconds passed like hours. Then, as suddenly as they'd stopped—
They bolted.
Gone, chasing some other poor soul down the road of no return.
The man's hand slipped off Daewon's mouth.
Daewon spun around, eyes wide, breathless. "T-Thank you…"
The man was bald, grizzled, face marked by scars and soot. His eyes were sharp—military sharp. The M16 was battered but clean. Kept close like a lover.
"Any other survivors in this sector?" the man asked gruffly, slapping a fresh magazine into the rifle without looking.
"I… I don't know," Daewon said truthfully, still shaking. "I haven't seen anyone."
The man nodded slightly, then reached behind him and pulled out a heavy machete—its edge serrated and stained. He offered it to Daewon without ceremony.
"Take it. Two and a half kilometers north, there's a government base. Look for a red smoke signal by the highway wreckage. You won't make it there with that thing." He eyed the kitchen knife in Daewon's trembling hand with thinly veiled contempt.
Daewon hesitated, then took the machete with both hands. It felt heavy. Real. Deadly.
"And you?" he asked, blinking at the older man. "Aren't you coming too?"
The man scoffed. "None of your business, brat."
He slung his rifle over his shoulder and started walking the other direction.
"Now move before more Ragers sniff you out. I'm not saving your ass twice."
"Y-Yes, sir!" Daewon bowed slightly, gripping the machete tight, then bolted into the shadows, feet pounding the pavement once more.
The bald man watched him go, then muttered under his breath with a weary smirk.
"Youth..."
Hong Daewon's legs were jelly. His lungs burned like fire. But the faint sight of smoke—red smoke—rising just over a collapsed highway ramp filled him with desperate hope.
"That's it… That has to be it…"
He was close. So close.
Only a few more blocks. Just a climb up the rubble pile and he'd reach the promised safety the bald man spoke of. Government base. Protection. Guns. Food. Humans.
But then—
"Kyyyyuuuuk!"
A guttural, wet scream ripped through the air, sharp and unnatural, like bones cracking inside a monster's throat. Daewon's whole body seized at the sound.
He turned back.
And saw it.
Crawling at full speed, a giant of a thing skittered toward him—its limbs impossibly long, back arched upward grotesquely, its stomach facing the sky. Its mouth stretched open unnaturally across its belly, saliva dripping down as it growled with animalistic hunger.
The damn thing was huge—seven, maybe eight feet tall, even in that disgusting position. Its spine twisted like a centipede's, bones clicking with each inhuman step.
It was one of the mutants, that much was obvious—but unlike the Ragers, this one was built like a beast.
Daewon gasped. "Fuck!"
He turned and ran again, boots slamming the cracked pavement.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
It chased him—fast. Despite its size, the monster moved like a giant spider, its backwards-arched gait giving it terrifying agility. Its belly-mouth gnashed wildly, eager to tear into him.
"First the Ragers and now this?! Where did my luck go?!" Daewon yelled, pumping his arms harder.
The mutant roared behind him, knocking over a streetlamp like a toy.
But just as he rounded a corner—he froze.
Something was there.
It looked like a boulder of flesh—a grotesque mountain of meat wobbling with every breath. Dozens of mouths covered its body, opening and closing randomly. Some moaned. Some chomped. Some simply drooled.
Eyes—disjointed, bloodshot, twitching—peeked between folds of skin. It was like someone had taken a hundred corpses, melted them into one mass, and cursed it to live.
It blocked the entire path.
Daewon stared, pale. "…I'm fucked."
Behind him, the bridge-crawler screeched again.
In front of him, the flesh-mountain began to shuffle, mouths twitching, scenting the air.
Trapped.
To be continued...
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This is my first novel ever? Liked it?
Also, should I put things like serums to get stronger or like a system (the system would be for every survivor)?