Fact: Fucking Scary.
"Nah, this ain't shit. Ghosts usually come out at night. Sun's still up, so we're good."
As we left the village outskirts and hiked up a gentle slope, a dense thicket of trees parted to reveal a narrow path ending at an abandoned hospital squatting there like a hulking beast. Back in the day, there must've been a dirt road snaking through these woods, bustling with people, keeping the place way cleaner than this. But according to Lee Ji-ah's research, this spot had been deserted for decades, making it one of those rare abandoned hospitals you hardly ever see in Korea. Most get demolished or renovated into something else once they shut down.
A hospital this size in a backwater village like this? That's the real mystery.
Sure, attitudes toward mental illness and asylums were shit back then, but that didn't explain building something this massive in the middle of nowhere. Even some rich asshole wiping his ass with cash wouldn't plunk down a hospital here. Which points to the director—or the real owner—having some shady ulterior motive for sticking a psych ward in this hidden hellhole. That's exactly what got Lee Ji-ah thinking, "This has to tie into some creepy urban legend!" and digging up the files. To me, it just looked like your standard creepy, rundown dump with zero ghost story vibes. Whatever. As long as I babysit these kids and pocket a fat paycheck, who gives a fuck.
"Hey! I wanna take a pic! Get one with the hospital entrance behind me!"
"Fact: Got it."
"Uncle, don't just stand there—come pose with me!"
Lee Ji-ah had ditched the "Mr. Han" or "boss" formalities and started calling me "uncle" out of nowhere. I'm not even thirty yet—why the hell does everyone treat me like some ajusshi? Isn't the cutoff supposed to be thirties to fifties?
Fucking annoying.
Still, playing photo op was part of the gig, so I grudgingly stood next to her.
"Fact: Shooting."
As the designated photographer and editor, Lee Chan-young struck a pose with his pricey-looking digital camera and snapped us. It screamed intro for Lee Ji-ah's vlog or the occult club's activity video. Title something like "Exploring XX Abandoned Hospital with a Total Fraud Expert (100% Real)".
"Lemme see!"
"Fact: Careful now."
Lee Chan-young handed over the camera with shaky hands, and Lee Ji-ah beamed as she scrolled the album. Then, just like that, her smile vanished.
"Hey, nerd. What the fuck is this?"
"Fact: No? Clue?"
"No, fuck! You're the camera guy—how do you not know?!"
The bubbly college girl was gone, replaced by a raging psycho bitch. Ah, character overlap.
"Fact: I shot it right."
"You shot it right, but why does my face look like this!"
"Fact: Backlight? Shadows? Dust reflection? Maybe."
"What the hell does that mean, you nerd!"
"Fact: Anyway, not my fault."
Lee Ji-ah shoved the camera at me like it was toxic waste, then smacked Lee Chan-young's thick, smoked-ham arms while venting. I checked the album, wondering if I just didn't photograph well.
"Holy shit, but the vibe is killer."
With the massive, ominous abandoned hospital as backdrop, we looked off standing in the pitch-black maw of the entrance—like a black hole sucking us in. Our heads were distorted, yanked toward the center of that void.
I shook off the hand grabbing my hair like it was dragging me and snapped a selfie.
-Unable to load image file.
"Fuck, 'pro photographer' my ass—you using a knockoff?"
Makes sense—broke-ass college club kids aren't dropping millions on a real camera. Probably got scammed into buying some cheap fake that looks legit. I wiped the album clean and tossed it back to Lee Chan-young.
"Alright, heading in for recon and gear setup. Start recording if you want personal footage."
Lee Ji-ah and Lee Chan-young fired up their body cams pinned to their chests. Of course, Lee Ji-ah was doing her own smartphone recording for her vlog, not the broadcast one. Whoever started this stupid vlog trend needs to be rounded up from Gwanghwamun and beheaded one by one. Stream it live—views would go fucking nuclear.
No S-man to help with filming, so I just went in. Too lazy to lug a camera anyway. What I really needed in my hands was my knuckle duster, Bible, and Google Books.
Right before stepping into the entrance, I pulled out my pocket watch to check the time. As expected, the hour, minute, and second hands were going haywire.
Meaning? Cha-ching—big payout incoming.
Sex.
Autumn on this low hilltop, smack in the woods—the abandoned hospital felt oppressively eerie and cold. Even fearless college kids on a retreat wouldn't dare use this for a guts test.
"Inside's cleaner than I thought."
"Fact: Now something breaking."
Crash!
We flicked on our green night-vision lights and barely stepped inside when a shatter echoed from deep within.
"Ah, fuck... I mean, Chan-young. They say words can jinx shit. Can we, like, watch our mouths from here on?"
"Fact: Ro-ger."
"So, uncle. That earlier thing—was it poltergeist activity? I kinda felt something..."
"Lemme tell you a fun story."
I scanned the reception desk right off the entrance as I spoke.
"Two buddies go up a mountain late at night for a guts test. Midway up, they find this rickety warehouse and hear—shhk shhk—someone sawing inside. Friend A thinks, 'Whoa, mountain ghost!' But Friend B? Grabs A's wrist and hauls ass down to civilization. Gasping, A snaps, 'Dude, if you'd opened that door, we could've seen a ghost! That's why we came up here!' What'd B say?"
"Uh, that rings a bell but..."
"Fact: Noo-dle?"
"B's answer: 'At that hour, in that spot, hearing a saw cutting something? That's scarier than any ghost.'"
"......"
"Fact: ......"
Finally getting my mini urban legend, they shut up. Why'd something break the second we entered, at this hour, in this place? Sure, like Lee Ji-ah said, maybe poltergeist. Ghosts have eyes and ears everywhere, sense the living easy. Timed a glass, beaker, or vial drop for our entrance.
But if not?
"Since you're in an occult club, here's some advice: Urban legends start the moment you feel a question."
Our family was dirt poor—no rice to spare. One day I wake up to delicious smells from the kitchen. Mom and Dad are up early, waiting with steaming meat stew. But my little sis, who always whines to wake me first, is gone. Just us three at the table. Where's sis?
Even these clichéd tales nail the timing to amp the fear—making the listener naturally question. So what about when you're living the legend?
"We just questioned. Something broke right as we entered. Why? Dunno. Windows shattered, doors hanging—wind whistling through, maybe. But if not wind? Wild animal? And if not...?"
I trailed off, and Lee Ji-ah and Lee Chan-young went ghost-white.
"Eh, probably just wind, I bet. Fall winds are brutal. Check outside."
I pointed at the trees whipping in the gusts. Their faces eased as they rationalized the doubt away, eyes flicking from the black threads snaring branches like spiderwebs, shaking them wild.
"Alright, deeper in. Wrap this quick and grab dinner. Camping means ramen, right?"
I'd confirmed Choi Yeon-jun was a total pushover, so I detoured to a highway rest stop mid-trip, ditched the instant ramen, and stocked real-deal spicy ones. Dinner was gonna slap.