❝Don't speak. Don't make noise. 𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲.❞
The world falls victim to a man-made plague, one that captures it's host through the air, and once bitten, turns them into a flesh-eating monster. Sixteen individuals from two group...
All readers are advised to read the description of this book for the trigger warnings that will be written throughout. Please do not read further if gore, character death, and dystopian/apocalyptic themes are sensitive to you.
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The world was ending. The windows, still filled with beaming sunlight, now withheld a new meaning; one that had been irrevocably darker. Once lively streets that busied themselves with the essence of cars and nearby walking citizens, now fell into a specific vacancy fear had elicited. Groans and babbled gasps flee from the bodies of stumbling corpses, meandering without purpose, hands dangling lifelessly at their sides as blood-stained tears drag down their hollowed, graying cheeks, leaving their eyes milky white and on the cusp of complete blindness.
Seonghwa for the better part of the last hour had stood by a window, struggling to hold his phone steadily in his hand despite the utter sense of calm that carried his heart. The apartment itself was completely silent, void of the usual noise that his partner, Hongjoong, normally provided, but he had been out in search of one of their friends.
Thankfully, these inhuman beings were blind and completely unaware, stumbling about like brainless toddlers, reaching for anything that made the slightest noise. Hongjoong promised that he'd be safe, and after hearing Mingi's plea for help from his nearby office, Hongjoong convinced Seonghwa to let him leave. Reluctance followed Seonghwa's words as he watched his partner leave, and knowing that these beings had been creeping and stumbling about, only wove a deeply rooted unease into his core.
It had been a half-hour at this point, but Seonghwa would wait tirelessly. He wanted Hongjoong to be patient and to be careful, taking as much time as he needed to lead their friend back towards their apartment complex, but even as he looked out the window that had been facing the direction of Hongjoong's mission, he couldn't help but feel as if his heart had left the moment Hongjoong had.
Seonghwa met Hongjoong nearly ten years ago. A music producer and an artist, two passionately creative people woven into different trades, but somehow captivated by the art they created together. It took barely a month before the two had successfully gone out on their first date, and before Seonghwa could properly realize the depth of his feelings, date after date after date had already passed.
Romantic dinners, picnics, walks near the beach, coffee dates and days spent lazing on the couch had made up most of their time together, accompanied by the usual intimacy and affections a relationship could offer. Years had passed, as had their time in college, and before Seonghwa knew it, Hongjoong had bought them an apartment, the very one he was standing in, waiting for his lover to return.
Now, the only difference was that runners had been stumbling about, trying to rip apart anything living and breathing, making the idea of their future hardly reachable now. Seonghwa twirled the ring on his finger in a soothing, nervous gesture, hoping that the semblance and hope of their newly-celebrated engagement would bring a happier light into their life. Even as Seonghwa stood there in front of the window, allowing the light to hit the fabric of his gray sweater and ripped jeans, he couldn't help but feel as if there was no light within any of this situation. He wanted to be positive and hoped that a cure would come to revive Seoul and its people, but it felt feeble to think exactly that. The world was lost amongst a plague no one could've predicted, and yet the sun still rose on Seoul every morning, unafraid to shine on the blood that had been shed overnight.
