First Ghost Story: The Duplicating House
It was Sunday morning. All he'd done was open the front door because his mother said they were out of milk—and beyond it wasn't outside.
A familiar shoe rack, a familiar hallway, a familiar living room. Another identical house sat beyond.
No one was there.
"......What the hell."
Behind him, Suyeon poked her head out.
"Minjun, the milk......"
Her words cut off. Seoyeon and Jiwoo, who'd been sitting in the living room, stood up as if to ask what was going on.
Yujin was brewing coffee in the kitchen.
Five family members. The four women reflected in Minjun's eyes. The four of them quickly gathered at the entrance.
Mother Suyeon. Thirty-six, a body that had borne three children, yet her waist was still slender enough to span with one hand. In exchange, her breasts and hips were undeniably voluptuous. The front of her T-shirt was pushed up heavily, and the hip line of her jeans was round and generous, befitting a woman who'd given birth three times.
Among the four, her upper volume was by far the largest. Dark brown eyes with slightly drooping corners, pearl earrings dangling from her ears that still carried the refined air of a professor's wife—yet her body was more beautiful than most young women walking the streets. When she smiled, her face lit up, revealing a maternal quality befitting a lady.
Older sister Seoyeon. Twenty-two, a slim build with curves inherited from her mother, free of excess flesh. Her breasts were a size smaller than Suyeon's, but they rose softly beneath her thin knit sweater, and her waist and back lines, honed by archery, were firm. At a glance her sharp eyes looked cold, but when she met Minjun's gaze while reading, they would soften slightly.
Her thighs, sculpted by professional athletic training, were smooth. Even knowing they were blood siblings, Minjun had more than once wanted to fill both hands with her ass as he watched Seoyeon walk with that apple-shaped rear swaying.
Aunt Yujin. Thirty-two, Suyeon's younger sister by blood, but her atmosphere was the complete opposite. The dark brown eyes behind her glasses were cold and sharp, and her bob cut falling to her jawline perfectly completed the image of a city woman. Yet the body beneath her T-shirt was entirely different.
Her breasts were unexpectedly full, and her waist was the slenderest of the four. Her hips were generous too, so that when she wore jeans her rear view stood out. Without her glasses she had a rather pretty face, but she was so expressionless that few in the household noticed.
Younger sister Jiwoo. Twenty years old, the smallest frame of the four with a round, youthful face. Her cheeks were still plump, and her large round eyes folded into crescent moons whenever she smiled. But her body had finished growing ahead of her face.
Relative to her small frame, her breasts had considerable volume, and the line from her slender waist to her hips was delicate yet feminine. When talking with Minjun she had a habit of linking arms and clinging for no reason. Whether she was aware of it or not, she'd rubbed her breasts against Minjun's arm more than once or twice.
And Minjun himself—twenty-one, the only man in the house.
Three hours later, the five of them stood side by side in front of the front door.
They closed it and opened it. Closed it and opened it again.
Even after ten repetitions, the same living room yawned beyond. When they opened the veranda window, the wall of Building 105 across the way blocked their view. The playground that used to be visible, the alley, the streetlights—all gone.
It was as if the entire house had been relocated somewhere.
Minjun suddenly recalled things he'd seen on YouTube. Liminal spaces, the Backrooms, parallel worlds. Endless corridors and empty offices, yellow wallpaper and spaces where fluorescent lights never went out. Those videos the algorithm recommended late at night.
Back then he'd watched out of pure curiosity. Ghost stories the creators made with CG. Or vlogs of someone actually exploring abandoned hotels.
What was before his eyes now was not CG.
The density of the unfamiliar air flowing from beyond the door. A duplicated living room floating within arm's reach, belonging to who knew whom. The fluorescent light flickered with a subtly different color temperature.
The first few days were panic. Jiwoo cried, and Seoyeon paced by the window clutching her phone. Of course it got no signal. Yujin checked the internet connection, turned on the TV, and fiddled with the receiver. Nothing came through. Minjun looked down over the veranda railing.
The thirteenth floor. Not a height he couldn't jump from.
"Don't."
Suyeon's hand gripped Minjun's arm.
Below was invisible. Not a concrete floor, but something like fog was spread out. In a twenty-story building, not being able to see the ground was physically impossible. Minjun stepped back.
First week. They organized the food.
Side dishes in the fridge, rice, frozen meat. For five people, a week at most. Water came from the bathroom. Electricity worked, and the induction cooktop functioned fine.
Minjun spoke.
"Let's go through the door."
The living room went quiet.
"If there's the same food over there, we can last another week."
Suyeon opened her mouth.
"......Just to check, for now."
The five of them crossed the front door.
It was the same house. Inside the fridge: the same side dishes, the same eggs, the same amount of rice and frozen meat. On Minjun's desk: the same notebook, the same pen. Even the wrinkles in Jiwoo's bed were identical.
Only the air was slightly different. Heavier than the original house, a little colder. The smell of a new building seeped into their lungs with every breath.
Yujin looked back.
"What if we go back that way?"
Beyond the front door was the original house. The passage was still open.
Minjun felt relief. Just being able to return lightened his breathing.
The first week passed this way. They slept in the original house and brought ingredients from the duplicated one. Because the two houses' refrigerators were the same, their food was doubled.
Seventh day evening. Suyeon took out frozen meat and made bulgogi; Yujin cooked rice. Seoyeon and Jiwoo set the table. The duplicated house's dining table.
The five of them sat around it. After the meal, Seoyeon stood to clear the plates.
"We should head back soon."
Minjun walked toward the front door first. Because of meal prep they'd all come to the duplicated house together, but sleeping in the original house had become habit.
He opened the door.
"......Huh."
His feet stopped.
The living room visible beyond. Familiar sofa, familiar TV. But the tabletop was empty—the seat where he'd just been sitting eating. Chopsticks, water glasses, side dish bowls—all vanished without a trace. The plate that had held the bulgogi was of course in this kitchen's sink, but there was nothing on the table. It was too clean, as if no one had ever lived there.
Minjun turned around. Down the hallway, in the living room he'd just left, Jiwoo was yawning and Seoyeon was wiping the table. Everyone was on this side.
"Everyone's...... here, right?"
"Of course." Yujin raised her head. "Why?"
Minjun looked forward again. He took a breath and slowly crossed the front door.
The angle of the ornament on the shoe rack. The clock hanging on the hallway wall. The wrinkles in the living room curtains. Everything was the same. But something about the light temperature was subtly different. The original house's fluorescent lights had a slightly yellowish cast, but this house's light was closer to white.
"This...... isn't our house."
Yujin followed behind Minjun and stopped. She scanned the living room once, then immediately turned back toward the front door.
"Wait. All five of us were just over there a moment ago."
No one could answer. It was true. All five had gathered in the duplicated house for dinner. And all five were still in the duplicated house. No one had remained in the original house.
Yujin opened the door they'd just entered again. When she pulled the handle, the door opened easily. But beyond wasn't the house they'd crossed from. Another identical living room. Sofa, TV, dining table. Everything the same, but it wasn't that house from before.
She closed and opened it once more. This time, yet another house. As if every time the door opened, it stamped out a new copy like a decalcomania.
"......We can't go back."
Yujin's voice trembled slightly.
Suyeon approached and looked beyond the door. Seoyeon stepped back with a stiff face. Jiwoo held her breath a couple of steps behind. The table where they'd just been eating bulgogi, the rice bowls not yet cleared, the rooms with everyone's belongings—all gone. The door opened, but beyond it was no longer their house.
Minjun walked to the opposite side of the living room, the wall facing the front door. Where a window should have been, another door had appeared.
He gripped the handle.
The door opened.
"......What a strange rule."
Yujin muttered low.
"When all five of us completely gather in one house and close the door, new houses appear front and back and the original house disappears. The doors open, but beyond them is always a new house. I get it now."
The living room was quiet. Suyeon fretted at the wall for a long time. Jiwoo said nothing. Seoyeon walked toward the veranda.
That was the beginning.
After that, daily life simplified. They ate the week's worth of food in the new house. When it ran out, all five packed their things and crossed beyond the front door. Once the last person crossed the door, the space beyond the door behind them had also changed into a new duplicated house. And ahead, another identical house. Both doors opened, but whichever way they went, the previous house was gone.
The fridge was full of another week's food again.
They couldn't go back. They could only go forward.
Just in case, all five slightly reduced their meal portions. None of them wanted to move into the next unidentified house that changed little by little—it might have been instinctive anxiety. Third week, third house. Around the end of the fourth week, fourth house.
Their anxiety was proven. Around the time they grew used to moving, Yujin said,
"Things are increasing."
The food in the fridge stayed the same. But everything else. At first there was one extra towel. In the next house, one more pillow. After that, a book that hadn't been there was stuck on the bookshelf—an old hardcover with no title or author name.
Yujin didn't open that book. She just pushed it deep into the shelf.
The view outside the window changed little by little too. At the first duplication, the wall of Building 105 across was visible. After two or three weeks, the wall blurred and gray fog filled beyond the glass. After more than a month, something writhed in the fog.
It had no form. Just something paler than a shadow. Staring too long tired the eyes, so no one tried to look outside anymore.
Third month. They were living in the thirteenth house.
Moving was routine now. In the morning Suyeon cooked rice and took out side dishes. The induction cooktop in the duplicated house regulated heat better than the original. Seoyeon read books in the master bedroom, and Yujin spread a notebook on the living room table and organized the house's rules. Jiwoo developed a habit of lying on the veranda looking up at the ceiling.
Minjun opened the front door once a day. Beyond the door was the empty living room of the fourteenth house. This time too, only the air was slightly different; everything else was the same. Dining table, sofa, TV, bookshelf. A house they didn't yet need to cross into. As long as food remained in the fridge, they could stay here.
It was the morning of the third month.
Suyeon took milk out of the fridge. An unfamiliar carton. The cow drawn on the front was strange. Its udders were abnormally swollen, and the teats were painted bright red. A brand name he'd never seen. He couldn't even tell what language it was.
"Another new item."
Yujin, sitting at the table, glanced over. She looked back down at her notebook as if uninterested. It was the first time something new had appeared inside the fridge, but new objects appearing wasn't a first or second occurrence. Same category as the towels increasing, pillows increasing, the old book appearing. Nothing had caused problems so far.
"Milk?"
Jiwoo approached. Suyeon opened the lid and sniffed. Ordinary. The expiration date printed on top of the carton was generous.
"Just seems like milk. Want to try some?"
"Sure."
Suyeon took out two cups and poured half into each. Jiwoo took a sip first.
"It's sweet? Tastes better than regular milk."
"Really?"
Suyeon put it to her lips too. Definitely a bit sweeter than the milk they usually drank. There was a slightly sticky aftertaste, but not enough to call strange. Just a different brand of milk.
Minjun was watching the scene from the living room sofa. While Suyeon and Jiwoo emptied their cups, Yujin was writing something in her notebook with a pencil. Seoyeon was reading in the master bedroom. An ordinary morning.
Suyeon and Jiwoo finished the milk.