Seojun felt as though he had wandered into a bizarre dream, one in which everything familiar had suddenly twisted into something strange and unsettling. Was the blood loss playing tricks on his mind?
He moved quietly, rubbing the tension from the back of his neck as the infamous Hamon campsite loomed somewhere ahead.
Is... this the right way?
His night vision was nothing exceptional, and he knew almost nothing about the area. Seojun regarded the ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) fork in the road with suspicion. The dirt path split cleanly in two, and judging by the footprints, the path on the right appeared to be more frequently used.
“.........”
Why is my intuition useless whenever I actually need it?
At the moment, his instincts were about as useful as toe socks. After a moment of hesitation, Seojun chose the right-hand path.
As it turned out, he had worried for nothing.
He had barely gone any distance when a heap of discarded materials, apparently dumped there on purpose, blocked the way. Nearly tripping over the debris, Seojun hastily retraced his steps.
What a waste of time.
Back at the fork, his face twisted in frustration, he took the left path instead. Before long, the Hamon campsite came into view. As he pushed through the thick bushes, the dark outline of the camp gradually emerged beneath the dim night sky.
Two buildings stood in a narrow clearing. Light spilled from the windows of one of them, a small structure that resembled a guard post.
Seojun tried to remember the campsite’s layout from the movie.
The camp had been divided into four areas. Zone A, the Campfire Ground, occupied the center, while Zones B, C, and D surrounded it.
Zone B contained several scattered cabins and a lake. Zone C had a rare two-story lodge. Zone D probably housed the dining hall and the groundskeeper’s residence.
His memory was vague at best. After all, what kind of person memorized the full layout of a movie set? Certainly not Seojun.
The only reason he remembered the dining hall was because of a scene in which a cheerleader and a football player flirted while eating.
Honestly, that scene had contributed absolutely nothing to the story. Seojun had never understood why the director had felt it necessary to include a sexy cheerleader sitting on her boyfriend’s lap and teasing him over dinner.
The director’s bizarre taste in background music had been equally obvious. Seojun had often wondered what went on inside that man’s head. If there was anyone in the world who genuinely admired that director, Seojun would have liked to meet them.
Another important location was the lake in Zone B.
Black Lake was the birthplace of the man-eating monster. Even after watching the entire film, Seojun had never understood why it was called Black Lake.
It really was a terribly made movie.
And now I’m trapped inside this goddamn cinematic disaster.
The thought tightened around his heart, dragging his old fear back to the surface. His throat felt raw, and his mouth had gone dry. Seojun swallowed the saliva gathering beneath his tongue and forced himself to continue.
No matter how surreal this world seemed, it was brutally real to him.
First, I need to find Christina.
Seojun quickly sorted out his priorities.
His first objective was to reunite with Christina and the others. His second was to find anything that could be used as a weapon. Ideally, he would also borrow a cellphone from Christina’s group and call the police.
So please, Christina. Stay alive.
He clung to that hope while deliberately ignoring the grim odds of an ordinary student surviving against a man-eating monster.
If the creature was anything like the version in the movie, Christina and her friends might not only defeat it with ease but even take a few celebratory selfies afterward. That was how cheap and amateurish the monster makeup had looked in “The Murderer of the Bloody Lake.”
Of course, Gas Mask’s design in the movie had not been especially impressive either.
The real version, however, was something else entirely.
His harsh breathing carried the smell of blood, and every muffled sound from behind the mask felt deeply unnatural. That meant the real man-eating monster might also be far more horrifying and grotesque than its cinematic counterpart.
While those thoughts churned through his mind, Seojun’s body continued moving almost on instinct. He had never been particularly athletic, but the threat of death had awakened every survival reflex he possessed.
Gathering strength in his legs, Seojun burst through the undergrowth—
Then skidded to an abrupt halt.
Gas Mask stood directly in front of him.
“......”
“......”
This can’t be real.
Why is Gas Mask here?
Seojun blinked, struggling to process what he was seeing. Unfortunately, the figure did not vanish like a hallucination.
Instead, every detail became clearer.
The black trench coat.
The Hamon knife.
The gas mask.
Despite wearing a suffocating trench coat and a full gas mask on a summer night, the killer showed no sign of exhaustion.
That was hardly surprising. Horror movie killers always seemed to possess bottomless stamina and monstrous strength. Seojun knew the trope all too well.
Oh, come on! Wasn’t he way behind me?
Summoning what little energy remained, Seojun spun around and ran.
Even though his earlier mistake at the fork had cost him time, he had been certain he had reached the campsite before Gas Mask.
As though mocking that assumption, Gas Mask slowly lifted the Hamon knife. Its blade gleamed ominously in the darkness.
“Holy sh*t!”
Recognizing that all-too-familiar figure, Seojun cursed and sprinted toward the larger building, ignoring the smaller outpost Gas Mask had emerged from.
He crashed through the door and found himself facing a quaint wooden sign.
“Restaurant.”
“Ugh!”
Pain tore through his injured arm when he collided with something inside.
But he could not stop.
Not even for a second.
Any hesitation now would be a death sentence.
Perhaps Gas Mask had not expected Seojun to sprint forward so recklessly, because his reaction came a moment too late.
Seojun slammed the door behind him and raced deeper into the building, his feet barely seeming to touch the ground.
From the outside, the restaurant had looked like a simple rectangular structure. Inside, it was almost completely dark. Only narrow strips of moonlight slipped through the windows, giving Seojun just enough visibility to distinguish the shapes around him.
Realizing that his prey was escaping, Gas Mask began to pursue him.
With every step, his rough, labored breathing echoed through the mask.
Seojun darted between rows of neatly arranged tables and chairs. His slender body moved with surprising agility, allowing him to slip between the obstacles almost like a cat.
The hulking killer behind him was far less graceful.
Gas Mask collided with tables and chairs as he advanced, while Seojun desperately shoved more furniture into his path.
But although Seojun was thin as a twig, Gas Mask was built like a tank.
The flimsy chairs barely slowed him down.
He plowed straight through them, sending them scraping and screeching across the floor.
“Ah!”
In the middle of his frantic escape, Seojun made the most predictable mistake possible.
Too focused on the terror behind him, he failed to notice a chair leg in his path. His foot caught against it, and he crashed heavily to the floor, taking the impact on his cheek, shoulder, and knee.
“Ugh...”
It was the second time that day his own clumsiness had betrayed him.
Am I really this accident-prone?
The answer was painfully obvious.
But Seojun had no time to scold himself.
An icy sensation crawled over the back of his neck. Without even looking behind him, he instinctively jerked his head aside.
The Hamon knife sliced through the air where his neck had been only a second earlier.
“Uh—ack!”
Gas Mask had aimed directly for his throat.
Seojun’s breath caught at how narrowly he had escaped.
Heat radiated from the killer’s body, making the air around him feel oppressively hot and damp.
Was the lake nearby causing all this humidity?
It was an absurd thought to have at a moment like this.
The silent forest outside.
The cool metal beneath Seojun’s hand.
The misty condensation gathering over the lenses of Gas Mask’s mask.
Those sensations collided in his mind and drove him into sudden action.
Staring at the place where he assumed the killer’s eyes must be, Seojun swung his improvised weapon with all his strength.
Thwack!
The metal chair smashed into Gas Mask’s chin.
To Seojun’s horror, the blow accomplished almost nothing.
The gas mask tilted slightly to one side.
That was all.
Muttering a quick curse, Seojun ignored the sharp pain shooting through his wrist from the awkward swing.
Still, it was a small victory.
If he could distract Gas Mask for even a second, that was enough.
Drawing on the last of his strength, Seojun let out a raw, desperate scream.
“AAAAHHH!”
Twisting his fallen body and bracing himself against the floor, he drew both legs toward his chest and then kicked forward with a force that seemed impossible for his slender frame.
Gas Mask, who had appeared almost immovable, staggered under the impact.
Seojun knew nothing about martial arts, but he did know that his legs were the strongest part of his otherwise fragile body.
Fueled by desperation, the kick knocked the knife from the killer’s grip and sent him stumbling backward.
Had the heavens finally taken pity on him?
He might not have had much muscle, but his height gave the kick enough force to matter.
[Hmph!]
A hollow grunt reverberated from inside the gas mask.
After one brief glance at his opponent, Seojun scrambled unsteadily to his feet, adrenaline surging through his veins.
Without even correcting his posture, he lunged forward and sprinted like a racehorse.
At least this time, he had enough sense not to look back.
He burst through the opposite door and slammed it shut behind him, the impact ringing in his ears.
Fortunately, the Hamon knife had become lodged in the floor.
Amid everything that had gone wrong that night, Seojun had finally been granted a tiny stroke of luck.
Gas Mask’s delay was not entirely due to Seojun’s weak resistance.
True to the habits of a classic horror movie killer, Gas Mask seemed obsessively attached to his signature weapon.
Instead of chasing Seojun immediately, he stopped to wrench the Hamon knife free from the floor.
The terrible scrape of metal against wood followed Seojun into the night.
Wait.
Can I really call this luck?
Gas Mask’s behavior revealed one undeniable truth.
If Seojun was caught, the killer would not let him escape without turning him into dinner meat.
The thought settled coldly inside him.
His sweat-soaked chest heaved with every ragged breath.
Anxiety gnawed at him as he forced his heavy legs to keep moving, desperate to put as much distance as possible between himself and the restaurant.
He might have escaped for the moment, but in reality, he had only avoided immediate death.
His life still hung by a thread.
“Ugh!”
Seojun grimaced and reconsidered his own metaphor.
Walking a tightrope?
That was a particularly unpleasant comparison for someone who usually avoided physical activity whenever possible.
After quickly scanning the area, Seojun ran toward a narrow path.
If I can get through here, the campfire site and camping grounds should be close.
With a little luck, he might find Christina and the others there.
Gritting his teeth, Seojun slapped his burning thighs and kept moving.
The injuries from his fall throbbed with every step, while his wrist pulsed painfully from the awkward chair swing.
The fight had gained him nothing but more injuries.
Without realizing it, he bit down on his lower lip until the metallic taste of blood spread across his tongue.
His original plan had fallen apart the moment he encountered Gas Mask.
At first, he had imagined himself sneaking through the camp unnoticed, quiet as an owl and insignificant as a worm in the darkness.
Unfortunately, Seojun was no stealthy nocturnal creature.
He was only an ordinary man who now deeply regretted not grabbing a kitchen knife—or anything useful—from the restaurant.
He glanced down at his wristwatch.
8:50.
The night was still young.
And he was already exhausted.
Me when Seojun did the cliché horror movie fall, lol: