I can't get out.
The words rang in her mind like a curse: she could not get out. That faint, curving smile... The grin that slithered down her spine like ice water made Sumin gasp sharply. She slapped the old woman’s hand away with desperate force and sprang to her feet. The grandmother stroked her stinging fingers, still wearing that same sickening smile, as though to say no amount of struggling would ever set her free.
The others were no different. Every face wore the same chilling grin. They began to drift closer, inch by inch, closing the circle around her. Among them she glimpsed familiar faces—her friends.
“Y-Yeonji… Jinsu… Yongha!”
Then, as if reciting an incantation, every mouth opened at once and the same words spilled out in a horrible chorus.
“You’re going to stay with us.”
“You’ll be with us forever… in this place.”
The chant crawled over her skin. Sumin shook her head violently and stumbled backward. She did not want this. She refused to be trapped here. She wanted to go home.
“No! I won’t! I’m getting out of here!”
She screamed the words like a threat and bolted up the stairs, teeth clenched, legs pumping. She climbed flight after flight in a blind panic until the world around her shifted again. The air grew colder, heavier. When she finally looked up, the corridor had become a derelict building choked with garbage. The familiar stench of mold rode the chill draft. Ahead lay a blackness so complete it seemed like the mouth of hell itself, ancient and suffocating.
Outside the broken windows, rain hammered down in violent sheets, accompanied by rolling thunder. Even now—CRACK—the sky split open and lightning bleached the world bone-white for a single, blinding instant.
Each time the darkness retreated, Sumin caught something at the far end of the corridor. At first she told herself she had imagined it. The glimpse had been too brief. But after another deafening boom and flash, she saw it more clearly.
It stood at the opposite end. At first glance it resembled a person. Yet the moment her eyes locked onto it, an unbearable terror flooded her chest—something she had never felt before. Her mouth went dry. Her whole body began to shake like a leaf in a storm.
Another thunderclap. Another flash. And it moved.
Its first steps were slow, unsteady, as though it might collapse at any second. Then the pace quickened. With the next explosion of lightning she saw it running—full tilt, arms swinging, coming straight for her.
Only then did the paralysis of fear break. She understood with terrible clarity that she must not let it catch her. If it did, she would end up like her friends, like those grotesque patients—trapped here forever.
She had to run.
“Kyaaak!”
Screaming, Sumin spun and fled up the stairs again. The staircase stretched on without end. And with every floor she climbed, the building itself flickered between the ruined husk and its former state. No matter how many steps she took, she never reached the top.
Whenever the surroundings reverted to the old hospital, the patients in their identical gowns were waiting. They smiled at her with those same skin-crawling grins, watching to see how long she could keep fighting.
Then the building became the abandoned wreck once more, and the patients were still there—only now they were no longer human. Pale, rotting faces. Hideous wounds. Some bled freely; others had empty, hollow eye sockets. A few opened toothless mouths and made wet, clicking sounds. They looked like corpses that had decided to stand up and walk.
And still they repeated the same terrible words, their voices chasing her up the stairs.
“Stay with us…”
“Stay with us…”
Tears burst from Sumin’s eyes. Her body was failing. Her lungs burned, her legs felt like lead, her thighs screamed with every stride. Yet the staircase never ended. She was trapped in an endless loop, circling the same nightmare.
Her strength finally gave out. She collapsed, tumbling backward down the stairs in a helpless, bruising roll.
“Kyaaaaak!”
Her scream tore through the dark. The moment her body stopped, she looked up—and it was there, staring down at her.
Before pain could even register, she choked on a gasp. The thing was not human. Its face was deathly white, its mouth slit ear to ear in a horrific grin. A long, wet tongue flicked out like a serpent tasting the air. Deep within sunken sockets, its eyes glowed with a sickening light.
It reached for her. The hand was coal-black, fingers ending in razor claws. It drew closer, slowly, inevitably.
No… no…
Every instinct screamed at her to run, to fight, to do anything but let it touch her. Yet her body refused to obey. The sheer weight of its presence crushed her. All she could do was cry silent, helpless tears.
Please… someone… help me.
Suddenly, a brilliant light exploded from her chest.
A pure, searing radiance burst forth, driving the nightmare back.
“Kyaaaaaak!!”
The creature shrieked in agony, recoiling from the light. Sumin squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden glare. When the piercing scream began to fade into the distance, she dared to open her eyes again.
Ha… ha… She gasped for air, chest heaving. Her mouth was so dry it hurt to swallow. When she cautiously opened her eyes, she saw a familiar wooden ceiling above her. She sat up abruptly and winced. Her entire body ached as though she had been beaten. A low groan slipped out before she could stop it. Dizziness and a pounding headache rolled over her in waves.
She was in a bed. In a familiar room.
Leaning back against the headboard, Sumin let out a heavy sigh.
A dream…?
Her skin was slick with cold sweat. Her mind still felt foggy. She wiped her damp face with one hand, then reached for the phone lying beside the pillow. It was nearly ten at night. Outside, rain was still falling.
She pressed her fingers against her throbbing temples and exhaled again. Had it really been a dream? It had felt so real—more vivid than any dream she had ever experienced. The terror still clung to her bones.
And that final creature… What had it been? Could something like that even be human?
She tried to recall its face, but the image refused to sharpen. The patients, her friends—those memories remained painfully clear. Yet the entity at the end of the corridor was blurred, as if wrapped in fog. Maybe that was what made it a nightmare.
With a weary expression, Sumin rubbed her stiff eyes once more. She climbed out of bed and walked into the dark living room of the pension. The chill in the air made the space feel unnaturally eerie. Perhaps the fierce rain outside was to blame. She hugged herself, rubbing her arms as she stared through the window. There was nothing to see; the world beyond was swallowed by absolute darkness.
Then she remembered the young priest she had met that morning. Lee Hwan—was that his name? She had been waiting for him but must have dozed off. There were so many questions she needed to ask. Surely he would know something. Perhaps he could even help her find a way out of this.
Had he returned by now?
Sumin stepped out into the pouring rain and hurried to the identical building next door. The downpour was so heavy it felt as if the sky itself had been torn open. Thunder growled overhead. Each rumble made her flinch. When the lightning faded, the thick, sticky darkness rushed back in—darker than any night she had ever known.