If I Pray Desperately, Will Someone Come to Save Us? Disaster-Grade Ghost Story
Disaster-grade ghost story.
Since "that incident" when ghost stories first appeared, threat levels have been established in five stages. Disaster-grade ranks second.
[Illusion-grade]: The weakest rank. Mostly induces psychological terror. Rarely causes physical harm, so survival rate is the highest among ghost stories.
[Disaster-grade]: Capable of physical harm. The kind with so-called "rules." Follow the rules and you survive—but those very rules make it the deadliest.
[Catastrophe-grade]: Can deploy the Netherworld. From this rank on, ghost stories expand their domain. Once trapped in the Netherworld, escape by normal means is impossible, and survival odds plummet.
[Apocalypse-grade]: Escalates to national threat. Netherworld scope and coercive power dwarf Catastrophe-grade. Was the most dangerous until the next rank was defined.
[Mengmang-grade]: Incomprehensible. Beyond human understanding. The first rank to appear in Korea. Only two ghost stories—"Collector" and "Phantom"—hold this rank. Their goals, powers—nothing is understandable.
All sorts of catastrophes and apocalypses have struck, and lately even a colossal mengmang-grade one. So some might think, "Disaster-grade? That's manageable, right?"
But no.
Bang!
"Not a chance. People know small traffic accidents kill more than massive disasters, don't they?"
In a famous bakery at one corner of the food court, a girl with light sky-blue hair slammed the table and stood up. Her name was Yoo Shin-ah. Freshly a college freshman, Shin-ah was out shopping at the department store with her best friend Yeon-woo for the first time in ages.
"Shin-ah... I haven't even said anything yet...?"
"Lee Yeon-woo, that's your problem! The girl who nearly passed out at that convenience store in our senior year from the 'Watching Woman'—you gonna stuff your face now that a ghost story's here? Stuff it?! If not for 'that guy' back then, you'd be dead—and now you've got zero caution?!"
"W-why bring that up outta nowhere again...?"
Huddled small beside Shin-ah, munching bread quietly, was Lee Yeon-woo. Unlike her bold, feisty friend Shin-ah, she was meek and hamster-like.
Shin-ah sighed and pinched Yeon-woo's cheek.
Streeetch.
"Yeon-woo, you heard that too, right? Disaster-grade ghost story 'Prankster' just popped up next to us. We gotta bolt outta here now."
"Huuuuh... Sh-Shin-ahhh. My ch-cheek huuurts so baaaad...!"
"Oops, slipped my mind. Your cheeks stretch like taffy—it's just too fun."
"Huuuuh... B-but if a ghost story shows up, can't we not escape?"
"That's only for Catastrophe-grade and up that deploy the Netherworld. Disaster-grade don't have one. Get out before the rules snag us."
Shin-ah's reasoning was spot-on. Disaster-grade couldn't deploy the Netherworld. That's why, if you weren't bound by rules or targeted yet, escape and survival were totally possible.
Pat-pat!
Shin-ah snatched Yeon-woo's hand and bolted toward the stairs to the first floor.
"Hurry! Everyone else is running too! Don't let go, Yeon-woo!"
"O-okay...!"
The moment the red text announced the ghost story, everyone in the food court scrambled to flee—Shin-ah and Yeon-woo included.
'Disaster-grade: survive by dodging the rules.'
'The ghost story with the best survival odds.'
Everyone thought the same, racing away from the mascot horde.
But.
Disaster-grade ghost story Prankster spoke to the crowd without revealing itself. A grating voice like a throat scraped with a knife.
"Everyone, run! Get out before it states the rules!"
"Hey! Don't shove! You in a hurry alone?!?!"
"Fuck! Ghost story alert and you want a line? Get outta the way!"
Ignoring Prankster, people focused solely on escape.
But that pissed off the ghost story.
With that, the lone standing Pierrot mascot snapped its fingers.
Snap!
Instantly, balloon-head kids' heads began popping.
Pop!
Pop!
Pop!
"Nooo!! Not my baby...!"
"B-baby...! My little one...! Nooooo!!!"
"My daughter...! If Daddy hadn't brought her here...!"
Parents' agonized screams filled B1 entirely. Wails of those who'd lost their beloved children.
Kee-hee-hee.
Mascots bobbed as if laughing on Prankster's behalf.
"P-please...! Not my daughter... Stop!!"
Thud!
Parents whose kids' heads hadn't popped yet kowtowed, begging. Spare our child's head, they pleaded endlessly. Blood from foreheads mixed with tears—heart-wrenching desperation.
Snap!
Pierrot snapped again, halting the pops.
Music blared from speakers; mascots danced a routine.
♬~ ♪~♩~
The bear mascot stuck a flag in its head, pretended to flee—chased by Pierrot and lion.
White flags popped above random heads.
"Wh-what? Why's this on my head?!"
"That mascot routine earlier... No way that's..."
"Don't jinx it! Whatever, just run—we'll live!"
Amid the confusion, a man clutching his balloon-daughter grabbed scissors and headed somewhere.
Sacrifice... Sacrifice...! Need one for my kid!
Ahead stood a baffled male student with a flag on his head.
Kill him.
Kill and my kid lives. Rules just said "catch sacrifice"—but "sacrifice" meant death to him.
Kill the flag-head and my kid might live.
With his child at stake, rational thought was impossible. He snuck behind the student, slashing his throat mercilessly with scissors.
"Gaaargh...!!"
"Die, die, die, diiiiiie!!!"
Splurt!
Gush!
Scissors pierced skin, severed artery—blood sprayed.
"Kyaaah!! You're insane!!"
"What the hell?! Have you lost it?!"
"Let gooo!! Gotta kill this guy... Kill him and my daughter lives!!"
Ignoring interveners, he focused on killing.
"Die, diiiiiie!!"
"Gurgle..."
With a final bloody rasp, the innocent student died.
"Hah... Hah..."
Blood-soaked, the man realized his sin.
I killed someone...
To save his daughter, he'd taken an innocent life.
"Ah... Aah... Wh-what have I done...?"
Then, a familiar voice behind him.
"D-Daddy...?"
His balloon-daughter's face was normal again.
"Aah!! My girl! Come to Daddy!!"
"Daddy...!"
Squish!
Bloody embrace, sobbing man.
"It worked...! Sacrifice and she's back!!"
Onlookers grasped the second rule's meaning.
"Kill flag-heads and our kids live too!"
"Old geezer's got one... Easy kill."
"B-but killing for our kids...?"
Prankster poured fuel on parental madness.
Balloon-parents snatched knives, scissors—any lethal tools.
"My baby... Mommy'll save you..."
"Son... Just wait. Daddy'll... Daddy'll...!"
One thought consumed them:
Find and kill flag sacrifices.
Stampede!
Parents plunged into fleeing crowds, hunting flagged "sacrifices." Blockers were obstacles—stabbed, slashed ruthlessly.
"You crazy fucks! Killing innocents for your kids? Still human? No different from the ghost story!"
"Run! These psychos kill anything in the way—not just sacrifices!!"
Chaos of hundreds, thousands fleeing—trampling deaths aplenty. Now knife-wielding maniacs too.
"This is why I hate Disaster-grade... Sneaky bastards dragging everyone into rules to kill!"
Sandwiched in the mob, Yoo Shin-ah strained to break through the jam. Human wall ahead, killers behind.
Self-preservation paramount, but Shin-ah protected Yeon-woo to the end.
"Yeon-woo! Lee Yeon-woo! Where are you?! I said don't let go!"
"Sh-Sh-Shin-ah... I-I'm... h-here..."
"Quit stuttering!! Get over here! I'll bust the entrance open!"
"I-I'm... There's something weird... on my head, Shin-ah..."
"What?! What the—"
Turning, Shin-ah saw the white flag atop Yeon-woo's head.
"I-I'm caught in the rules... Hic!"
"Fuck, don't cry!! Hide behind me. One hair out of line and I'll pinch you later!! I'll protect you—just stay put!"
"Hic...! S-sob... O-okay...!"
Even now, Yeon-woo prayed desperately at Shin-ah's unwavering back.
P-please... Save me and Shin-ah...
She fervently wished for that black-clad man from the convenience store to appear once more.