Chapter 7: The Corpse King
None of the students had even had the time to try to understand what was happening to them, nor to figure out what this mysterious translucent blue interface pulsating before them could be. And, in any case, that was the least of their problems.
The two zombified students were still there in the carriage, motionless, staggering, groaning incomprehensible sounds. From their grayish skin emanated that thick, black, sickly mist that clung to them like a sinister aura.
Stupefaction had frozen the unlucky high schoolers in place. Everything had happened far too quickly.
Fear gripped their chests so tightly that they were holding their breath, forcing themselves to make no sound, afraid of drawing the attention of the two cursed students.
"If one undead was able to cause so much havoc… what would happen with two?" The very thought made the blood of anyone who imagined it run cold.
Step by step, the group of students retreated, slowly but surely, grabbing anything along the way that could serve as an improvised weapon. Then, barely a few seconds later, the mysterious translucent interface disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared.
No sooner had the interface vanished than morbid screams tore through the air, chilling the students to the bone. Brutal shakes and metallic screeches rattled the wagon door behind the two infected students. Low, inhuman growls grew louder, filling the carriage with a sinister, oppressive atmosphere.
Their hearts pounding to breaking point, their hands slick with sweat, the students held their breath, frozen in icy stupor. Every vibration, every sound seemed to amplify their terror; cold sweat ran down their foreheads as they began to grasp the magnitude of the horror.
Those screams, those strange noises, the growls, and the oppressive creak of metal finally provided the answer to a question each had been asking from the start:
"Where had all the other train passengers gone?"
The calculation was as simple as it was terrifying: the selection trial had indeed begun, as announced by the mysterious translucent blue message… and by the unsettling sounds behind the metal door. The lower carriages offered cold, implacable confirmation of this reality.
In a flash of comprehension, they all realized at the same time:
"They've all been turned into zombies."
The curse had infected them, reducing them to slaves, puppets of an unknown entity that now hunted them relentlessly.
At that moment, they were the only survivors, speeding through a dark night aboard a train infested with the dead.
Ken Jiheon, normally impassive, stepped back slightly, fully aware of the catastrophic and deadly situation before them. His eyes widened, fixed on the two motionless undead and the door behind them. His muscles tensed, ready to react to the slightest threat.
Cold sweat trickled down his temple, but his face remained impassive, a calm exterior that betrayed nothing of his inner anxiety. He analyzed, thought, forcing his mind to find an escape.
"At least the infected are on the other side of the door…" he thought, letting out a slight sigh of relief. "We just have to handle these two, then…"
Ken hadn't even finished his thought when, like a cruel joke from fate, the misfortune that had always followed them smiled again in the worst possible way.
The rear carriage door, which had until now separated them from hell, locked by the translucent blue symbol, opened slowly, splitting in two with a sharp metallic screech. A chill wind escaped, and a heavy silence fell over the wagon.
No sooner had the door opened than a black, thick, viscous mist, like a nightmarish fog, seeped in slowly, carrying a sinister omen. The growls of the cursed intensified, becoming deeper, more oppressive, saturated with menace.
This mist was unnatural: so dense that it nearly swallowed all visibility in the compartment, leaving only blurred silhouettes and the glowing green eyes of the cursed, shining like malevolent flames in the dark.
One by one, then two, five… then nine, over and over, the undead emerged silently from the fog, joining the ranks of the two infected students.
And as if that weren't enough, like an endless nightmare, the same sharp, morbid growl, identical to the one that had frozen their blood when the interface appeared, echoed even more terrifyingly through the compartments, coming from the very heart of that black mist.
This infernal growl made the unfortunate students' entrails tremble, plunging them into visceral fear that chilled their bones. Their throats tightened, their heart rates spiked each time the sound drew closer. They would soon have to face their predator.
Ken couldn't believe it, laughing bitterly at his luck. A sly, almost joyful smile spread across his lips.
"In the end… nothing good ever comes out of this fog," he murmured, his voice grave.
Suddenly, deep within the mist, a gigantic silhouette began to take shape. Two enormous fluorescent green eyes appeared, shining like stars in the darkness, their sickly glow piercing the black veil.
With each step of the figure, the temperature dropped, becoming icy and biting. A horrid stench of rot gradually filled the air, making every breath unbearable.
Then, with a brutal gesture, a gigantic hand shot out from the mist and slammed violently onto the compartment floor where the students were, in a dull thud, followed by a second, just as heavy and relentless.
A colossal head slowly emerged from the shadows.
That of a humanoid creature of unspeakable monstrosity. Its body was entirely covered in an exoskeleton, while its tar-black skin exhaled a suffocating mist, surrounding it like a morbid aura. A network of fluorescent green veins ran across its twisted skin, drawing sinister patterns, as if an entire hell burned within.
Its cursed eyes glowed with infernal light, as though the souls of thousands of damned were trapped within, their silent screams echoing through its oppressive aura.
Perched on all fours like a colossal gorilla, it seemed ready to pounce at any moment. Its gaping maw revealed rows of sharp teeth capable of easily tearing flesh. Its massive arms, as strong as tree trunks, ended in long, bony claws, razor-sharp.
With every breath it exhaled, the black mist spread, invading the space with an icy chill.
The Corpse King embodied death itself, a calamity from the abyss, and its mere presence made even the bravest falter.
A heavy silence settled over the wagon.
At that precise moment, the little composure left in the unfortunate students vanished like a leaf caught in a storm.
Panic took over completely, spreading through each of them like a virulent poison. They shoved, struck, and struggled, desperately trying to reach and open the heavy metal wagon door, still locked by the mysterious symbol.
At that moment, there were no friends or classmates: only survival remained.
Seconds later, the Corpse King opened its massive jaw. A guttural roar erupted, resonating like an order of death. Immediately, the previously frozen horde of undead lunged, hungry for fresh flesh, attacking the panicked students.
Their teeth and claws sank into the students' flesh, tearing it apart, spreading the curse with every bite.
Screams, cries for help, were lost amid the chaos. The "luckier" ones who managed to free themselves from the rear zombies were instantly caught by the Corpse King's titanic claws, slicing through the air like implacable scythes, tearing flesh and bone, cutting through everything in their path.
The metallic, acrid, suffocating smell of blood infiltrated everywhere, saturating the air. From the floor to the seats, every corner of the compartment was soaked, drowned under crimson splatters.
Then, with a dull metallic rumble, the front wagon door opened. The blue translucent symbol sealing it vanished, disappearing like an illusion swept away by the wind. Before them, the opening finally stood, a fragile promise of survival.
"The door's open!" a student shouted, his voice trembling with nearly broken hope.
"What is this, another trap?!" another replied, limping, eyes wide, voice full of bitterness.
Above the door, the blue interface reappeared, cold and relentless. A number blinked…
[14]
The students froze, hesitant. Every time that cursed interface appeared, nothing good had ever come of it. Naturally, they paused to think.
Suddenly, a panicked boy, coming from the rear, ran across the wagon at full speed, knocking over anything in his path. He seemed to have lost his mind. It didn't matter if it was a trap: he had to escape the undead at all costs.
[Blink]
[13]
Each time someone crossed the threshold, the number decreased. When the others saw that nothing bad happened to them, the example repeated itself. Then another crossed, hesitantly. And another.
[12]
[11]
[10]
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the wagon.
The survivors exchanged wary glances, as if already trying to figure out who to eliminate.
Yes… they had understood.
These numbers were not random.
No.
It was a countdown.
The exact number of lives allowed to cross the door… and therefore survive.
Like beasts driven by their most primal instincts, they threw themselves at one another to reach the door.
Cries and insults mixed with blows. Some tripped, fell, got back up, shoving each other to see who would cross the threshold first.
Insults and curses rained down from all sides
"Get out of the way, asshole!"
Or
"Move, bastard!"
Or even
"Let me through, bitch!"
Every shout blended with punches and shoves, the students colliding in a frenzy where everyone sought to cross the door first, ready to do anything to avoid being left behind.
In the melee, the weakest were pushed back… and, in the next second, grabbed and devoured by the zombies, or shredded by the massive claws of the Corpse King.
Everything had become sheer frenzied chaos,
a maelstrom of violence where the will to survive crushed any trace of humanity.
Every element of this cursed system seemed designed to push them to slaughter one another… and it worked perfectly.
The door only allowed one person at a time. Each time several tried to force their way through simultaneously, a mysterious blue barrier, like a force field, repelled them.
At that moment, panic overpowered reason, preventing them from thinking clearly.
---
"Stop fighting!"
"Get a grip!"
Seo Hanna's desperate voice rang out amidst the clamor, but despite her efforts, no one listened, and she could not reason with the students.
Too busy fighting each other, striking, shoving, insulting… all for fear of being left behind.
The girl, desperate, suddenly turned her head toward Kim and shouted his name at the top of her lungs, her beautiful face twisted with fear and anxiety.
The girl, cherished by a wealthy family, had never faced violence of such intensity.
Between the enormous monster at the rear, the zombies devouring the stragglers, and the panicked students at the front tearing each other apart, her world had definitively collapsed.
---
Lost, powerless, unable to know what to do, frozen in place, her gaze clung to the boy like to her last hope, searching for a faint glimmer of comfort in the chaos.
But as she met the young blond boy's tearful eyes, what she saw froze her.
The young man was motionless, broken, staring at the morbid spectacle before him. The undead feasted on the bodies of his classmates.
The horrible, gigantic monster, the Corpse King, was tearing and ripping their limbs apart in a blood-soaked orgy. It was as if his soul had been torn from him. His hand trembled around the iron rod he gripped tightly.
Hanna understood with a cold shiver that her last hope had collapsed.
Too discreet in the melee, she was suddenly shoved and violently thrown to the ground. She rolled until she landed at someone's feet.
"Excuse me…" she whispered, one hand on her head.
A visceral fear tore through her as she saw a few drops of black blood fall right in front of her… followed by a sudden, muffled, terrifying guttural growl that promised nothing good.
Grrrrrrrrrr…
The girl trembled, her body tense, pressed against the floor.
Her face, frozen with terror, was streaked with tears and cold sweat running down her temples.
Her throat tightened, her heart pounded as if it would burst from her chest. Her breathing became rapid and ragged, each gasp burning her lungs, leaving her suffocating in growing anguish and terror.
---
Then, slowly, she lifted her head.
Before her stood Choi Minjin, the young girl who had been bitten on the throat a little earlier by her boyfriend. Staggering, her green eyes stared at her with a grim, inhuman glow.
Then, with a sudden growl, the undead lunged at her. Its mouth wide open, ready to tear flesh, approaching ever more dangerously.
Grrrrrrrooouaaah!!!
"Back off!"
Silence.
Suddenly, from nowhere, the hard, red surface of a fire extinguisher slammed down with all its force onto the face of the undead, which was trying to reach the young girl.
The impact was violent and brutal. A sharp crash, followed by a wet splatter, shattered the bones of its jaw. The cursed body was thrown backward, a geyser of black blood spraying the floor.
Cracrrrrrrrsh!!!
"What a…!"
"You okay, princess?"
The girl, still frozen in shock, tears streaming down her delicate face, looked up at her mysterious savior. Her trembling voice uttered a single word:
"Ken."
Ken Jiheon had appeared just in time.
With a quick, precise motion, he had crushed the undead's face, saving the girl from a horrific fate. Without losing a second, he spun his arm in a swift gesture.
Wooooshh!
Splash!
The blood soaking the extinguisher splashed onto the floor in a perfect arc before falling.
Standing, Ken dominated the scene, while the girl, seated on the floor, stared at him, eyes wide.
A bitter smirk formed on his lips.
Tssss…
"This keeps getting better…"
Ken placed the extinguisher on his shoulder, turned his head sharply, and shouted, anger vibrating in his voice:
"Hey, wannabe hero, what the hell are you doing?!"
"It's not my job to do your work!"
The young man, frozen by shock, seemed cut off from the world.
The screams of distress, the rough growls of the undead, the clamor of students tearing each other apart… and above all, the terrifying sounds of the gigantic monster.
Nothing seemed capable of pulling him from his stupor.
Nothing… except that voice.
The one he had known all his life.
The one he considered as coming from his greatest rival. Those words struck true, reaching deep into his soul, rousing him from his stupor.
He came back to life.
His eyes instinctively searched for someone… and landed directly on Seo Hanna.
The sight before him gripped his heart.
The girl's face, bathed in tears, distorted by fear…
And in front of her, Ken Jiheon, motionless, her rival protecting her with his body.
A brutal shock coursed through him.
A mix of anger at himself and shame twisted his chest.
He lowered his gaze, teeth clenched in rage that hurt.
Then, in a sudden, rapid motion, he stood up, positioning himself alongside Ken.
His hand gripped the iron rod firmly, brandishing it like a sword.
His blue pupils, now burning with unwavering determination, fixed on the approaching undead.
"I don't need your help, Demon King of my ass!" he shouted, his voice vibrating with defiance.
Ken looked at him, a satisfied smile brushing his lips.
"There, that's more like it."
The zombies lunged at them.
But the two rivals didn't move an inch, their eyes blazing.
Side by side, ready to face hell.