The Day I Die - A Kpop Zombie Survival Story || KSJ

32. Explain (6)

POV: Soobin - TXT
Time: 09:46

This is it.
This is the day I die.

And the rod starts come down.

"WHAT IS ALL THE RUCKUS OUT HERE? KEEP IT DOWN, I'M TRYING TO HAVE BREAKFAST." A voice booms, somewhere off behind the thug.

He drops the metal pipe in shock, and it clatters good the ground, just barely missing my torso.
His face turns frightened, as if he's just got caught red handed committing a felony.

I lift my head up just enough so that I can see who the other person is.
It's another man.
And he has a mask on. A very worn out, black mask.
He has a much more broad build than the thug, and he seems to tower over him, despite being just a little bit taller.

A saviour. That man may have saved my life
Just at this moment, at least.

"He killed him, boss. Freak- freaking killed him." The thug stutters, whether from fear or anger, I don't know.
He points to his comrade, who lays as a lifeless heap on the floor. Unmoving and a gaping hole in his brain. His voice is choppy and fragile, which almost makes me pity him.
Only if he hadn't just tried to kill me.

"Holy crap. Wow." The other guy says, his voice unchanged.
It's a really tiny reaction, based on the fact that there's literally a dead body right in front of him.

The thug scoffs under his breath at the other's indignant behaviour.
He picks me up by the collar once again, dragging me to my legs, which are weak and aching, and yanks me across to the other guy, who seems to just have noticed me now, that I'm kneeling down in front of him, a scruffy, gruff mess.

"Hm? What's this? A human?" He says, bending down on his knee to get a closer look.

"Yes. A human. A murderer." The thug says, emphasising the last part, his voice on the verge of cracking.

The masked guy just seems to wave the words away, as if he never heard them in the first place.

"So... he's not a zombie? Not bitten, or anything?" He says, looking me straight in the eye.

The thug speaks in a lowly voice, like he wanted me to be bitten.
"Not that I know of."

"What's a shy, conserved kid doing out on his own? He hasn't even spoken a word. How'd you even find him? How'd you find him alive at that?" The other guy asks, laying his hand down on my shoulder.

It nearly makes me jump.

"Where'd you come from?"

I force my eyes to look down to avoid his. The man's hand is rough.
And very damaged. Especially around the knuckles.

"Hey. I'm asking you. Answer me." He says, his voice slightly more stern.

I beg myself to answer. But my body is shaking, too darn scared so that it won't respond.
He pushes my shoulder back, and I stumble, uneven on my legs.

"You damn jerk! Answer me, for God's sake!"

A punch lands right on my stomach, making me bend down in agony. I let out a gasp.
He pulls my head up by the hair, so that we're facing each other directly, with no room for me to look anywhere else but him.
He speaks to me in a dangerously low and quiet tone. Almost like a growl mixed with a snake's hiss.

"Don't mess with me, now. Tell me, how did you find this place?"

My voice box is constricted with pain, but I push it to let out the words, which are barely even a whisper: