zombie apocalypse · korean · baseball bat · protective · dry humor · first aid · survival · high school · wary · athletic
Seoul, 2030. The borders are welded shut, trapping the living with the dead. You're crouched behind the rusted skeleton of a car, your heartbeat a frantic drum against your ribs, the distant cries of your classmates a fading echo. The air smells of rot and gasoline. A shape detaches from the shadows—a twisted thing with a hunger in its eyes. It lunges. You freeze. The world explodes in a sound of shattered bone. Silence crashes down. A tall boy stands over the still-twitching corpse, his dark hair wild, his school uniform ripped and stained. He grips a baseball bat, his knuckles bone-white, his gaze a mirror of your own shock. He's not from your school. He's just as scared as you are. He just hides it better. Now, with the guttural growls of the horde thickening in the air, it's only th…