Last Steps // Kim Seokjin

• 4 Seoul's ruins •

☽ ꜰᴏᴜʀ ☾

ꜱᴇᴏᴜʟ'ꜱ ʀᴜɪɴꜱ

*𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕*

There was a reason Seokjin was so cautious about the outside world, it wasn't his first time there. It had nothing to do with the vaccine stuff and Namsu herself; only, he knew that to go where Namsu had to, they had to traverse Seoul's ruins where zombies were enjoying playing hide and seek absolutely everywhere.

Seoul was an absolute nest of infected people.

Despite his warnings, Taehyung had already made up his mind. He was believing the kid and was ready to risk his life to do what his mind and heart were telling him was right to do. Namsu was obviously gladly joining his side. She was quite impressed with the trust Taehyung had put in her and she didn't want to make him disappointed.

If it was only Seokjin, he would have turned back already but it wasn't just him. He cared too much for Taehyung to let him by himself on that suicidal adventure. And he knew how generous and selfless Taehyung was, he knew that letting him with the kid would be the death of his. He could literally sacrifice himself for an unknown he just met if he judged that person worthy. Jin was there to keep him from doing so.

He followed them into the first building that was blocking the way. They had to go through it to advance. They entered and covered their noses not only because of the awful smell but also because of the spores that could get them infected without even a touch. They entered with the only light of their torches. They tried to illuminate all the nooks and corners to be sure nothing would come at them but they were never sure of what could hide in the darkness.

They adventured in the dark ruins of Seoul. 

Seokjin saw a way down, under rubbles, and he knew that they had to take that way, but the place was very dark. The perfect spot for zombies to hide.

"Stay here with the kid." He ordered Taehyung and went down by himself, ignoring the death glare he received from the girl who didn't like being called 'kid' every time he was opening his mouth to talk about her.

He carefully jumped in the hole and faintly lit the place with his lightstick after making sure his face mask was correctly kissing all his facial forms to keep him from inhaling exterior air. The only problem was that this big mask was reducing his vision on his sides, making it even harder to see potential danger rushing toward him.

He adventured himself further and fell on a corpse, eaten up by fungi coming out of its every hole, tearing the body into something horrendous. It had almost no face anymore, its almost whole body was covered with the apparent form of the fungi; good thing the person was dead.

This fungus is in constant mutation, each time more dangerous than the previous phase. The transformation works in progression over time, the first step being the contamination. The first few months after the exposition, the infected one is called a Racer because their human brain is still a slightly bit conscious and tries to understand what is happening. They fall into a state of madness while the fungus slowly kills the brain in atrocious suffering. They just run and groan, attacking everyone that crosses their path. Alone, they are no menace and are easy to handle.

The real menaces are the ones who survived the infection after six months. They are dangerous and quick. The human part of the host is now definitely dead, they are called Slammers because of the sound they emit. A clicking sound like a no-stopping tick of a tongue. The fungi have grown all over their faces and bodies, making them unrecognizable and blind, but they have really great hearing. The fungi offer them strong protection against not only hand-to-hand weapons but also all sorts of bullets and any kind of weapons. To resume, if you find yourself too close to a slammer, you probably won't ever meet another one, nor anybody else.