The Midnight Laundromat
Early morning.
The world had long been bathed in the deepest shade of blue.
After wrapping up the restroom incident at Gwanaksan and finishing a brief celebratory dinner—if you could even call it that—I had returned home, showered, and lain down. But sleep had long since fled.
Though my eyelids felt heavy as lead from exhaustion, my brain was wired, as if I had chugged a giant bowl of caffeine.
Was it the dopamine of victory still coursing through my veins, or was it the anxiety—no, the anticipation—of the future to come?
After counting the stains on the ceiling for what felt like hours, I finally sat up. Leaning against the headboard, I stared out the window.
The alleyway outside was silent, even the streetlights seeming to doze in the quiet.
It looked peaceful, but I knew better.
I knew this tranquility was nothing but a temporary structure built on thin ice.
Bzzzt.
The smartphone on my nightstand vibrated briefly, as if reading my mind.
It's here...
I reached out with a numb hand and picked it up. When I turned on the screen, a black notification window filled my vision, right on cue.
[The ninth assignment has arrived.]
[Assignment: Laundry]
"Whew... haaa."
A bitter taste filled my mouth.
"Speak of the devil..."
It was the exact title I had jokingly brought up with the Otaku during our chicken-and-beer session yesterday.
Since the 1.5-star scenario was over, it was only natural that this 2.0-star one would be next.
I got out of bed and sat at my desk.
Then, with a slightly rough motion, I flipped open my laptop.
Click.
The screen lit up, and familiar folder icons greeted me.
I opened the folder and scrolled down.
The moment I opened the file, memories of when I was preparing this piece came rushing back.
Back then, I had been deeply obsessed with 'locked-room thrillers.'
An inescapable space, tightening dread, and the betrayal of a familiar, everyday object.
That's why I wrote this draft.
I began to quietly read aloud the proposal on the monitor.
The record of a curse left behind by my past self.
Title: Laundry (Original Title: The Midnight Coin Laundromat)
Genre: Locked-room Thriller / Occult Horror
1. Urban Legend: [The Secret of Washing Machine No. 4]
A 24-hour coin laundromat can be found in almost any neighborhood across the country.
Among them, particularly those tucked away in secluded corners or left standing alone in redevelopment zones, there is a washing machine that must absolutely never be used. Usually, it is Machine No. 4, or one marked with an "Out of Order" sign.
According to the legend, once midnight strikes, this empty Machine No. 4 begins to run all by itself. Accompanied by the low hum of the motor, dark red water fills the drum. Anyone who peers inside out of curiosity is drawn in, opening the door as if possessed.
In the next instant, they are sucked inside, washed alive alongside the laundry. By the following morning, only clean clothes remain in the machine; the person has vanished without a trace. It is the legend of 'The Washing Machine That Erases People Whole.'
2. My Adaptation (Synopsis): [The 4-Step Process of Death]
I wanted to visualize the concept of 'erasure' from this urban legend in a more concrete and gruesome manner. Rather than a simple disappearance, wouldn't it be far more grotesque if the victim underwent a rigorous, mechanical process of disposal?
What does it mean for a machine to wash a human being?
I took the four standard stages of a washing cycle—
[Wash - Rinse - Spin-Dry - Dry]
—and overlaid them with images of torture and dismemberment. Something akin to an old German horror film.
[Detailed Settings: The Cycle of Death]
Setting: A coin laundromat on the first floor of a dilapidated commercial building slated for demolition on the outskirts of Seoul. Though the front is made of floor-to-ceiling glass, making the interior fully visible from the outside, once midnight passes, it becomes impossible to escape. A perfect locked room.
The Identity of Machine No. 4: Originally a tool used by a laundromat owner to destroy evidence after murdering someone. The victim's resentment fused with the mechanical apparatus, creating a monster.
The Process:
Step 1: Wash [Erosion]
Dark red water (a mixture of blood and detergent) fills the machine. The hypnotized victim opens the door themselves.
The water surging out of Machine No. 4 engulfs the victim like a living slime. Upon contact, their skin melts and liquefies. (Chemical burns and complete neutralization of physical defenses.)
Step 2: Rinse [Separation]
The inner drum of the washing machine spins violently, letting out a deafening roar. The victim is dragged inside, their body folding and crumpling under an invisible force.
The churning torrents batter the victim, separating flesh from bone. Just like stripping dirt from clothes, this process forcibly tears the soul from the physical body.
Step 3: Spin-Dry [Compression]
Ultra-high-speed rotation. Centrifugal force squeezes out every drop of moisture—blood, bodily fluids—from the victim's body.
The sound of shattering bones mixes with the cheerful hum of the spin cycle, creating a bizarre, mechanical harmony.
Step 4: Dry [Incineration]
The final stage. Blasts of intense heat completely desiccate the empty husk of the body.
All that remains is a handful of gray dust. The human being is perfectly laundered out of existence.
Author's Intent: By having a household appliance—a symbol of convenience—classify a human being as a contaminant and process them accordingly, I aimed to maximize the terror of technology and bodily mutilation.
3. Evaluation and Reason for the 2.0-Star Rating
Pros: Praised for transforming an everyday space (a laundromat) into a stage of horror, and for its excellent depiction of the washing cycle as a sequence of torture. In particular, the damp, nerve-wracking dread evoked by the water and mechanical noises was considered a highlight.
Cons (Points of Criticism):
"Too contrived."
"A machine eating people is nothing more than an '80s B-movie creature feature. It doesn't fit Korean sensibilities."
"A washing machine crawling out to eat people? That makes no sense. Lacks plausibility."
Ultimately, while it succeeded in evoking fear, it was deemed to lack narrative sophistication, earning ridicule from my professor and peers. A tragic, failed draft.
As I read the words on the monitor, irritation slowly crawled up my spine.
Right, that's how it was.
At the time, I had been indignant, thinking, You guys just don't understand my artistic vision. But looking at it now, I could understand their criticism. A washing machine eating people? It was faithful to the genre, but in a way, it really was childish.
But.
The quality of the writing wasn't what mattered right now.
What mattered was that this sloppy, childish premise was about to become a reality that threatened my life—and potentially everyone else's.
"Wash, rinse, spin-dry, dry..."
I licked my dry lips.
If the previous scenario was a psychological and conceptual terror, this one was purely physical and visceral.
Overwhelming physical force. The bone-crushing, flesh-melting agony delivered with mechanical ruthlessness.
On top of that, the stage this time was a 'locked room.'
A space enclosed by floor-to-ceiling glass that let people look inside, yet completely sealed so those inside could never escape.
Even if someone watched us get ground to pieces from the outside, they wouldn't hear a thing. Perfect isolation.
Sigh... this is complicated...
I pressed a hand to my forehead.
If a 1.5-star scenario caused that much chaos, I couldn't imagine what a 2.0-star one would do.
Especially that premise of 'a machine eating humans.'
It had been criticized as contrived, but conversely, it meant there was no room for compromise. A machine has no emotions, no mercy. It would only execute its programmed instructions: the 'washing cycle.'
It wouldn't see us as human.
It would merely categorize us as dirty laundry that needed to be washed.
"This time... blood is really going to fly."
A chill ran down my spine.
The time allotted to us.
Roughly six days.
I stared at the laptop screen once more.
Machine No. 4.
I could already hear the phantom sound of it running in my ears.
Whirrr... whirrr... whirrr...
2:00 PM. The sunlight was harsh.
Office workers who had finished their lunch strolled the streets with iced Americanos in hand, and cars flowed along the roads in orderly lines. In this languid, ordinary afternoon scene, I was surely the only person who knew that a killing machine was hidden nearby.
A redevelopment zone on the outskirts of Seoul.
Wearing a worn-out baseball cap, I had taken a short nap before heading straight here.
This was the actual location that served as the model for my next scenario, Laundry.
Is it still there? It has to be, right?
When writing the script, I had scoured old neighborhoods all over Seoul for location scouting. That was when I stumbled upon a coin laundromat standing completely alone in the middle of a redevelopment zone. Inspired by that bizarre sense of incongruity, I had finished the script.
This was the place.
After walking up a steep hill for a while, a familiar sight came into view.
Crumbled concrete walls, "Scheduled for Demolition" spray-painted in red, and shattered windows. Amidst the ruins of what looked like a ghost town, a single, remarkably clean sign stood out.
[24h White Laundromat]
"...It's still here."
Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—the laundromat was still in business.
Even though the surrounding buildings were completely abandoned, leaving no reason for customers to visit, the fluorescent lights inside were brightly lit even in the middle of the day. Perhaps people living a bit further away still used it.
I swallowed hard and opened the door.
The sweet, artificial scent of fabric softener washed over me.
I slowly scanned the interior.
Large-capacity washing machines lined the left wall.
My gaze naturally locked onto the machine in the far corner on the left.
[Machine No. 4]
A yellow slip of paper reading "Under Maintenance" was taped to the machine.
That's the one.
I walked up to Machine No. 4. It had a massive, circular door made of silver metal. Though the inside was empty, the drum behind the dark glass looked like the mouth of a deep cave.
I reached out and touched the glass.
Cold...
Once Monday midnight hits... water will start filling this drum.
I retraced the settings of my script.
Dark red water fills the machine, and the door opens.
Then, the living water surges out to drag the victim inside.
Wash, rinse, spin-dry, dry.
This place would soon be drenched in blood.
Ugh... horrific.