Parricide (1)

I, Kang Hyun, was born to parents who were deeply immersed in a cult. Maybe that’s why I never once liked the idea of parents in my entire life. And my parents didn’t love each other, or me. What those two loved wasn’t their child, themselves, or each other. It was the cult leader. Disgustingly useless parents. Failures who couldn’t even create a single decent memory. What passed for family education was closer to religious ritual, and discipline was violence inflicted simply because I wasn’t religious enough.

By the time I grew bigger and bolder enough to resist, their discipline had become so irrational and chaotic they couldn’t even justify it anymore. I had given up long ago on thinking of them as parents. So even if I tried to recall them, there were no good memories. When I was little, the place they dragged me to by the hand wasn’t an amusement park or a zoo. It was in front of the cult leader.

I still remember it vividly. The middle-aged woman older than my mother, licking me with her disgusting gaze. The repulsive things she ordered me to do. The way her hands crawled over my body. If I called her “auntie,” she would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fly into a rage and slap my cheek. Part of my baby teeth had been personally pulled out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠by that so-called Second Coming of Jesus, so it was only natural that I hated the cult leader. I loathed him, and I loathed my parents even more.

My little sister was born into that household. Her name was Kang Ahyeon. A truly unoriginal, carelessly chosen name. Considering my name was Kang Hyun, it was clear these people had zero talent for naming children. There was a five-year age gap between us, and our relationship wasn’t particularly good. But it wasn’t bad either.

“Oppa~ Kiss!” She would giggle, arms spread wide, hopping around. When I irritably waved her away saying I didn’t want to, she’d ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠run straight into my hand and burst into tears. She’d cry her eyes out with a nosebleed, and because it was annoying, I’d half-heartedly apologize and press my pursed lips to her forehead. Even while sobbing, she would smile through her tears. Stupid girl. She loved skinship that much.

Our rooms weren’t separated, so we always shared the same space. Every night when we went to sleep, she would crawl into my arms no matter what. Even if I pushed her away saying it was hot, she stuck to me like a leech. And as if that wasn’t enough, she caused an accident.

“Huuuung, oppa… I’m stuck…” She’d wail, calling for me. She liked tight, suffocating, cramped spaces, so she often crawled into closets, under blankets, or beneath the bed. Getting stuck under the bed was inevitable. My sister cried that her head was trapped and she couldn’t get out, asking me for help. What the hell could I do? I told her to stay quiet and wait, but she whined that she was scared. So, reluctantly, I tried to do something about it. It was a stupid idea, but anyway.

The stupid, lacking girl got out. I ended up with a broken leg after the bed collapsed on me. She cried even louder than when her own head had been stuck, and she came to visit me every single day in the hospital room, sobbing. I hated that sister of mine. She was annoying, bothersome, and unpleasant. I kept on hating her. Even until she reached her third year of high school and took the college entrance exam.

Unlike me, who only half-listened to our parents and avoided them, my sister followed their orders. She went to church, listened to the cult leader’s teachings, and prayed every day. Then her grades started dropping. Instead of helping her study, our parents dragged her to church even more, claiming prayer and more attendance would make up for it. Her grades fell off a cliff. She failed to get into the university she wanted.

That was the first time I learned Kang Ahyeon was capable of getting angry. She screamed, threw things, and lunged at our horrified parents. After that, she stopped going to church. Our parents didn’t dare touch her, knowing she still hadn’t fully escaped the cult’s influence. After all, breaking the windows of the apartment complex built exclusively for cult members—the one filled with the leader’s grace—and causing discord was itself considered a sin.

In that way, Kang Ahyeon gained a partial freedom.

“Oppa… should we run away together?”

But even that wasn’t enough. One day she cautiously brought it up.

“Don’t you want to leave this place? I’ll get a part-time job and save money too. Can’t we live together?”

Her eyes were glistening with tears. That desperate gaze fixed on me. I don’t remember exactly what I said in response to that urgency, but I think I roughly agreed.

“…Really?”

The way she threw herself into my arms, the scent of her body, still lingers clearly in my memory.

“I love you, oppa. If it weren’t for you, I—”

So we did our best. We studied when we could, worked part-time jobs, saved every penny, and secretly sent the money away. I increased my own hours and worked even harder. We managed to save enough for a jeonse deposit on a room near the university my sister dreamed of attending. She probably couldn’t have done it alone, but with me helping, it was easy. I don’t know what we would have done if she failed the exam, but thankfully we didn’t have to worry about that.

“Oppa! Oppa! I got in! I passed!”

I rarely hugged my little sister, but that day I did. I patted her back as she jumped up and down in joy. We thought we would stay happy like that.

“Huh?”

“You saved up quite a lot. Well done. The cult leader will surely recognize your contribution. When the time comes, you’ll be able to live happily in the best sanctuary of the New Heaven.”

Parents were conveniently able to steal their children’s money whenever they wanted. Because they were family, it was easy. The money we had struggled to save was transferred to the cult leader under the name of a donation. Just like that. So simply it was almost laughable.

My sister couldn’t even cry. Neither could I. All we could do was watch our parents pray, claiming it was thanks to the Lord’s grace that she had even gotten accepted in the first place.

That day, I prayed toward a god who might or might not have been listening. If this pathetic world was one I had to live in for the rest of my life, then I wished it would just end already.

And for the first time in my life, my prayer was answered.

The world ended.

In a way no one could have predicted.

Zombies appeared.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Even the apartment complex of these fanatical cultists—who had been drunk on rapture fever, expecting to be taken up to heaven—was thrown into shock and panic. The dead rose from death, craving human flesh. The fanatics who had been starving themselves to ascend alongside the angels descending from the sky screamed in agony as they were devoured. Parents ate their children, children ate their parents, mentors ate their disciples, disciples ate their mentors. A bizarre world was born.

The world creaked and collapsed at terrifying speed. News broadcasts cut off. Military suppression and martial law proved meaningless. Our parents, who had preached that they were right all along, fell into confusion. Contact with the cult leader was severed. Even though it was just the building next door, no news came. Even when we blocked the stairs with random furniture, all we heard were mournful screams, cries of despair, and the sounds of people throwing themselves from windows.

The world had truly ended.

We didn’t know how many people were still alive on the same floor, or how many zombies there were. And in the end, my parents were never useful human beings.

“You fucking idiots! Why the hell did you throw that away?!”

They threw every bit of food in the house out the window. They piled it up, mixed it together so it couldn’t be eaten even if someone tried to salvage it, turned it into food waste, and dumped it. Not a single grain of rice was spared. They soaked it all in water, poured it into buckets, and flung it outside.

I screamed and fought them. I punched the face of the bastard I didn’t even want to call my father. I kicked the bitch who didn’t deserve to be called my mother. My sister locked herself in her room, crying.

Humans die if they don’t drink or eat. Throwing away all the food could only mean one thing.

“We haven’t been desperate enough until now. We just need to show that we are truly desperate, that we need the Lord’s guidance. Hyun-ah, just like how the Lord told Abraham to offer his son…”

They misquoted the Bible and spouted nonsense that didn’t even make sense. I was sick of those parents. I felt utter disgust at myself for having believed in them even for a second.

I should have hidden some food separately. I should have stopped them from throwing it away somehow. Or maybe I should have just—

I swallowed the rage surging inside me and crawled into my room, closing my eyes. I was too hungry to stay awake, so I just tried to sleep. If morning came, I might have to fill my stomach with water and go out looking for food. I swore to myself that this time I would keep it completely out of their reach.

“You awake?”

What waited for me was the cold corpses of my parents. And my sister, sitting in the pool of their blood.

I stared blankly at the floating text overlapping with my sister. The semi-transparent words hovering in the air felt strangely familiar. They reminded me of the web novels, webtoons, and games I used to read when I was bored. I had never owned a computer, but I played plenty of mobile games.

The incomprehensible phrases floated in the air. As I stared blankly at their flowing, rippling shapes, they slowly faded like an illusion.

It felt less like reality and more like part of a dream. Was I dreaming? The sight of parents who barely felt like parents being hacked to death by my little sister—could it be because I had wished for it? No, I couldn’t think that way. The metallic stench of blood that had become all too familiar since the world ended and government orders stopped coming completely filled my nostrils. This was unmistakably real.

It was definitely reality. Yet the text didn’t disappear. Instead, it changed, as if to taunt me further.

It was so ridiculously game-like that I laughed without realizing it. My sister tilted her head, not understanding why I was laughing, and smiled back at me. The two of us laughed for a long time over our parents’ cold corpses.