Chapter 97 - The Girl Wants to Be M*rdered

〈 Chapter 97 〉 888. The Zombie and the Girl's Chapter (9) * * * ** "─Sweep them all up!" "Oh. This one's expensive. I should get this." "....Everyone's very lively." Watching Hwa Min and Jeong Eun, who were gleefully stuffing their bags full of canned goods. I thought to myself that we wouldn't have to worry about food for the coming months. Each person with one large backpack and one smaller one. Having filled those two backpacks to the brim with cans, I estimated that we'd have enough to comfortably get by for two or three months. Of course, the backpacks were practically filled to the brim with metal, so they would be quite heavy. However, considering that this weight on our backs represented an extension of our lives, the burden didn't seem so unbearable. Besides, who knows if such a good opportunity would come our way again. Luckily, there were no zombies inside the mart. In fact, even as we noisily moved to the basement grocery section, we didn’t even catch a glimpse of a zombie, which was quite certain. I hadn't entirely dismissed the possibility, but having one of the least likely scenarios actually unfold was a surprising twist. The only traces we could see were items scattered away from the sales counters and the occasional trail, as if something had dragged its way along, marked with blood stains. Remnants of some horrific occurrences, reminding us of the past events that took place here. If the creepy blood stains on the floor weren't enough reason to decide that four people were insufficient to keep watch over this expansive space, I might have even considered making this mart a base, given its ideal conditions. Simply put, it couldn’t have been better. Yet. Despite that. ─Thud. "....Is this really right?" My mind was ringing alarms stronger than ever before. Similar to when I first witnessed the outbreak. A friend with bloodshot eyes entered the classroom, and as another friend helplessly approached to help, I watched her bite right into their neck. Or perhaps even more chilling, as if I was teetering on the brink of death myself, this horrid feeling continued to pound in my head. To run away immediately. That it wasn't too late. Perhaps my emotions were warning my still oblivious reason of the impending situation. What am I missing? What mistake am I making? ─Clench....! "....I have to find out." Driven by an inexplicable sense of unease, I hurriedly picked out a few cans nearby and stuffed them into my backpack before fixating on the marks nearby. Though I could sense Hwa Min throwing me a puzzled glance as she poured cans into her backpack, I was desperate to unravel the doubts clouding my mind. Even as some cans slipped through small gaps and fell to the ground beneath my feet, these thoughts persisted anyway. Fallen cans were the least of my worries right now. If I didn't uncover the source of this discomfort. I had a nightmarish feeling that I would regret it for the rest of my life. "........." The dark red line continued far into the distance, beyond the reach of the flashlight's bright beam. Adjusting the flashlights we each held to their maximum brightness, I carefully illuminated the blood stains on the floor, hoping they might be the only clue to alleviate this gnawing discomfort. With a dull thud, I sat on the floor, aiming for a clearer observation of the line, and began a mental experiment to decipher how these traces were formed. The hypothesis required one person having sustained a severe injury to an artery, losing a significant amount of blood. Thinking of the ground as paper and the bleeding person as a brush soaked in ink. Initially believed to be marks left as zombies or people crawled across the floor. The imaginary brush slowly glided along the line and─ "It's not from crawling." ─the conclusion veered completely from the initial assumption. Firstly, the red trail was not created by someone crawling. It was a path formed by one being dragging another. Imagine crawling using your arms and legs; you'd pull yourself with your arm while pushing with your crouched leg. Then you’d bring the bent arm forward and re-position the leg for the next push. This means the act of crawling involves repetitive movements corresponding to a specific rhythm. Let’s think about drawing a line with a brush on paper. If you intermittently stop the brush as previously thought, momentary pauses would leave marks like segments on the paper. This applies to any pen with ink, not just brushes. Naturally, it must be so. However, the intensity of the blood stain on the floor was continuous, without such segments, indicating that this trail's creator moved at a constant speed without stopping. This was possible because an entity had dragged another along the ground at a consistent pace. In other words, creating these marks required at least two entities. Someone dragging and someone being dragged. Based on subsequent clues, there was a strong likelihood that the one being dragged was a human, not a zombie. After establishing a base, moving the zombies we've dealt with for hygiene reasons makes sense. But in the midst of a fight or exploration, who would have the luxury of relocating the corpse of a zombie they’ve killed, knowing it could attract more zombies? The fact that something was dragged across the floor like this, bleeding, meant it couldn't have been the rotting flesh of a zombie. The dragged being was a seriously injured human. So, was this trail created by someone dragging a person who had been bitten by a zombie? Given the hints we've gathered, that seems the most plausible theory. Perhaps right when the outbreak happened, when someone next to an injured person, perhaps a friend or family, tried to help by dragging them across the floor── ... Wait a minute. ──Dragged them? They dragged an injured person across the floor? Not carrying them or shouldering them, but 'deliberately' dragging them along the ground? Judging by the amount of blood, someone with a severe injury like a bite on the neck or major artery, bleeding profusely? Not just one or two, but upon counting the number of blood trails, at least over ten people were dragged along in this bizarre, obviously wrong method? No, that can't be right. No matter how urgent or daunting the situation was, it’s hard to believe that anyone in their right mind would have dragged an injured person across the floor instead of collapsing in despair. Right. If it wasn't humans who did the dragging? "──────!?" I felt a chill run down my spine. My breath caught in my throat, and I couldn’t breathe for a moment. Perhaps I had been thinking wrong from the start. All the deductions I thought were perfect from start to finish. If the conclusion I arrived at was incorrect, then there's only one possibility. My assumptions from the very beginning were skewed. Yes. ".....Ah, ah...!" I was wrong. ** The unease I felt upon entering this mart was now finally becoming clear. Why are there no bodies left here? People bitten by zombies become zombies. And those who are already dead do not become zombies. In other words, those who died from blood loss or shock before complete zombification do not turn and remain as corpses on the streets. We could see the horrific corpses torn to shreds by zombies just by looking out from Hwa’s home. Yet why? In this place, where one would expect many deaths. This place where many must have fallen on that first day, unaware of anything. Why are there no bodies? ─Because someone hid the bodies or the gravely injured before they could become corpses. How? ─By dragging them along the floor, grabbing their arms or legs. Then, who dragged them away? ─Zombies. What's the reason? That's because── "──To make those who come here believe this place is safe." The truth was horrific. We planned to come to the mart because we ran out of food. It was a logical decision, nothing out of the ordinary for those with rational thinking. Though our survival was partly due to luck, it wasn't anything particularly extraordinary. Luck that others too could have experienced. Many others assumed to have survived in ways similar to us, would have naturally set this mart as their destination in search of food. They lacked food. Unlike us, who were fortunate enough to have enough to stay home longer. But now, where are their traces? Where are the marks left by survivors who must have come here before us? ─Creak, creak. "......Ah─" Like a broken doll, my neck twisted unnaturally toward my surroundings. Numerous trails I initially thought were made by crawling zombies. But now those trails held a completely different meaning to me. Inside the thick bloodstains, you could find, with careful observation, four thin lines about the thickness of a finger. Those lines were grooves left as if someone was resisting being dragged somewhere. Perhaps the last marks left by those who came here. "No, no." Even as consciousness blurred at the crossroads of thought. The marks left as the horrible beings dragged them, the very ones responsible for their impending deaths. And where are those who committed such atrocity now? They set traps in places people frequent, erasing all traces of their deeds to reassure future prey. Where would they be now? Right─ "─They're here, watching us." They would be right here, observing us. Laughing at the fools drawn into the darkness by the bright light. "They've been watching us all along....!!" I kicked off the ground. Heading towards the two seniors who were gathering supplies in the distance. Towards them, who were blissfully unaware, smiling as they packed the cans. I ran at the fastest speed I could muster── [""""""───■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■!!""""""］ ""......What, what's going on?!"" "Everyone, run awaaayyyy──!!!" But it was already too late. ** * * *