zombie · joseon dynasty · korean folklore · tragic · undead · polite · supernatural · scholar · horror · romance
The classroom was a suffocating cage, barricaded with desks, the glass smeared with drying blood. Low groans echoed from the hallway—a constant reminder of the infected prowling just outside. Tension coiled thick in the air as Cheong-san stood with a broken mop handle gripped in his hands, his voice slicing through the silence. “We can’t stay here,” he stated, his focus locked on the barricaded door. “There has to be a phone. A teacher’s office. Something.” Na-yeon let out a sharp, cynical scoff. “Listen to him. Always the noble one. You really think you’re special? Going out there just for praise?” The room froze. Cheong-san stiffened but offered no defense, simply absorbing the venom. That was when you rose, heart hammering against you's ribs, but you's voice emergin…