SPECTER: Night of mist

Jung Hae-jun walked down the deserted alleyway, letting out a weary sigh. It was past midnight, and the Seoul streets lay utterly still—so silent and empty that the city felt like a hollow shell around him. The chilling memories of the hallucinations and that eerie red mist at Kangbuk Police Station still clung to his mind, sending a cold prickling up the back of his neck. He and his colleagues had gone through a nightmare come to life, yet none of them could explain what had happened in any rational way.

As Hae-jun neared his apartment, he sensed someone ahead, around the corner of the alley. At first he assumed it was just a late-night passerby. But when he rounded the bend and stepped under a flickering streetlamp, he froze. A middle-aged homeless man in tattered clothes stood there in the alley's center, watching him with a knowing gleam in his eye. The man's hair was streaked with gray and his bushy beard was ash-colored; beneath the cap shadowing his face, his gaze looked dull and unfocused. Yet there was an intensity in the way he stared directly at Hae-jun.

Hae-jun stopped in his tracks, frowning as a name slipped out in a low murmur. "…Fog?" he whispered. Indeed, even in the poor light he recognized the vagrant-like figure from the abandoned building. This was the very same mysterious being—Fog—who had appeared during the incident earlier. He looked exactly as he did then, down to the shabby jumper and scruffy beard.

At Hae-jun's utterance, the man broke into a broad grin and opened his mouth to speak. A lazy, mischievous voice drawled out from him. "Walkin' around these alleys at night, you're fixin' to get yourself snatched up by a ghost, Detective. You already got the kinda look that those pesky spirits just love to mess with." The man chuckled as he spoke, the folksy humor in his tone unmistakable.

Hae-jun's eyes narrowed. He remained on guard, exhaustion and tension evident in his voice. "What is it this time? Why have you shown up again?" he demanded warily.

Fog just gave a light, breezy laugh. Scratching his head, he sauntered a few steps closer with an unconcerned air. "Now, now, Detective," he said in an easygoing drawl, "I just came to give ya a little warnin', is all." His black eyes glinted in the dim alley light. Though his words were playful, there was an odd gravity underlying his tone that hadn't been there before.

"Listen here, Detective," Fog continued, voice low and intent. "If you're lookin' to stop a real disaster, you'd best find a woman by the name of Lee Seo-ha first. If ya wait and try to act later, it'll be too late."

The moment that name left Fog's lips again, Hae-jun felt an inexplicable jolt of anxiety in his chest. Lee Seo-ha. The name had meant nothing to him at first, but now it resonated somewhere deep inside, as if plucking an invisible chord in his heart. A strange unease gripped him. Hae-jun's confusion flared into a mix of frustration and alarm. He stepped forward, fists clenched. "Lee Seo-ha… who is she? Why do I need to find her?" he asked, his face drawn taut with bewilderment and a fierce emotion he couldn't quite name.

Fog merely tilted his head with a faint, cryptic smile. "That name's gonna be your lifeline, ya hear? If ya don't hurry and find her, later on you can cry and carry on all ya like—it won't do ya a lick of good," he said, the drawl in his voice turning soft and deadly earnest. Before Hae-jun could get another word out, Fog's form began to blur and fade, dissolving into a wisp of crimson mist.

"Fog!" Hae-jun shouted, lunging forward with an outstretched hand. But there was nothing to grab—Fog had already vanished into thin air, leaving only the empty alley and a burst of cold night wind that rustled past Hae-jun's outstretched fingers.

Silence fell once more. Hae-jun slowly lowered his hand, pressing the other against his brow as he whispered the name to himself, "…Lee Seo-ha." The unfamiliar name rolled off his tongue and echoed in the stillness, refusing to fade from his thoughts. An inexplicable blend of dread and curiosity swirled in his chest, growing stronger by the second. He had no doubt now—whoever she was, Lee Seo-ha was a key piece of this mystery.

Moments later, Hae-jun arrived home and went straight to his computer. He logged into the police internal database and ran a search for "Lee Seo-ha." It didn't take long to find some basic information: she was listed as a kindergarten teacher, with only standard personal details on file. No criminal record, no outstanding incidents—nothing to suggest any connection to a bizarre case like theirs. Frowning, Hae-jun broadened his search, combing through internet records and other databases for any mention of her. He spent hours digging, but no meaningful clues emerged. Seo-ha appeared to be an ordinary woman living an ordinary life.

Why had Fog tied this name to the case? Hae-jun's head throbbed as he stared at the monitor's glow without focus. He rubbed his temple, frustration mounting. Nothing about the name Lee Seo-ha seemed relevant—yet Fog had insisted she was crucial. Hae-jun's instincts told him it wasn't a coincidence, but for now, the mystery remained stubbornly opaque.

By the time the sky outside began to pale with early dawn light, Hae-jun was still hunched at his desk, lost in thought. Suddenly, a burst of static hissed from the police radio sitting on his table. An urgent voice crackled through: "Detective Jung, do you copy? Emergency! We have a reoccurrence of the anomalous phenomenon near the abandoned building in District 13, Kangbuk!"

Hae-jun jumped to his feet and snatched up the radio. "Jung Hae-jun, copy that. I'm en route now," he replied immediately. Heart pounding, he threw on his jacket and quickly holstered his sidearm under his arm. He grabbed his police badge, shoving it into his pocket as he bolted out the door.

The site in Kangbuk's 13th district was still shrouded in thick darkness when Hae-jun arrived. The scene that greeted him was ominous: several patrol cars were parked haphazardly around the old abandoned building, their red lights flashing in the gloom with irregular, blood-tinged blinks. The slicing beams of red swept across crumbling walls and overgrown weeds, painting the night with a warning glow. The air itself felt different here—when Hae-jun stepped out of his car, a frigid chill brushed against his skin, tightening the knots of tension in his gut.

Moments later, Detectives Yun Tae-sik and Park Jae-min arrived and hurried over to him. Both men looked drawn and anxious, faces pale with lingering fatigue. Yun Tae-sik's jaw was set in a grim line as he reported, "Detective Jung, one of the patrol units saw something moving in the red mist around the abandoned building… It doesn't look good. The situation's getting out of hand." His voice quivered just slightly at the end.

Park Jae-min bit down on his lip, eyes darting warily over the dark surroundings. Seeing their unease, Hae-jun spoke in a calm, firm voice to steady them. "Everyone, stay sharp. We'll go in first to check things out. The other teams should secure the perimeter and keep any civilians away." The two younger detectives nodded, steeling themselves. They hastily checked their equipment—flashlights, extra magazines—then fell in behind Hae-jun as he led the way toward the gaping entrance of the abandoned building.

They had barely crossed the threshold of the lot when they stumbled upon several uniformed officers sprawled on the ground near the building's entrance. Other cops were scrambling to drag their fallen colleagues to safety outside. Hae-jun's blood ran cold at the sight. The officers on the ground looked ashen and gaunt, their lips dried to a crackled bluish-purple. It was as if every drop of moisture had been leeched from their bodies. They looked for all the world like withered husks.

"What the hell… what is this?!" Park Jae-min whispered, swallowing hard as he took in the ghastly scene. Nearby, Yun Tae-sik knelt and pressed two fingers to the neck of one unconscious officer. Yun's hand was shaking. "I-I can barely find a pulse… It looks like they collapsed from severe dehydration," he reported, voice tight with shock.

Jaw clenched, Hae-jun curled his hand into a fist. Something inside that building had done this—struck these officers down in an instant. He clicked on his flashlight and shone its beam into the yawning black entrance of the abandoned structure. The interior was pitch-dark, revealing nothing. Hae-jun's heart thudded. Somewhere in that darkness, something was lurking, something that had overpowered trained officers without a sound.

Yun Tae-sik's voice wavered as he whispered the thought all three of them were thinking: "It's inside… isn't it? Could it be that Specter… the one Fog talked about?" Hae-jun didn't answer aloud. Instead, he released the safety on his pistol with a soft click. The only response needed now was readiness.

"Are you both prepared?" Hae-jun asked, gaze still fixed on the black entrance. Yun and Park exchanged tense glances and nodded, swallowing their fear. They formed up on either side of Hae-jun, weapons drawn.

"Stay calm. Don't let fear take over—observe carefully and watch each other's backs," Hae-jun ordered quietly.

"Yes, Detective," Yun managed to reply under his breath. Park forced a shaky grin and added, "If a ghost pops out… we'll just slap the cuffs on it and haul it in, right?" He tried to joke, but his voice trembled and the laugh that followed was hollow.

Before anyone could respond, a blast of frigid air burst out from the building's interior, cutting Park's nervous joke short. A wall of dry, suffocating air whooshed over the trio. It was as if all the moisture had been sucked out of the atmosphere in an instant—each of the detectives felt their throat and lungs burn with sudden dehydration. They cringed involuntarily, throats so parched it hurt to breathe.

"Gah—!" Park gagged, clutching at his neck as a raspy cough rattled out of him. Beside him, Yun Tae-sik doubled over, wheezing and choking at the dry sting in his lungs.

And then, through the darkness, it appeared. The stagnant air inside began to stir, and tendrils of red mist unfurled in the void. Within that crimson haze, a shape gradually emerged, slithering forward into the dim light of early dawn. A gaunt figure with grotesquely thin limbs stepped into view. Its skin was mummified and ashen-gray, stretched tight over its bones. In its sunken eye sockets, there burned two pinpoints of crimson light, the only hint of life in an otherwise corpse-like face. The thing's movements were jerky and unnatural, like a marionette being yanked about by unseen strings. It looked less like a living human and more like a desiccated cadaver reanimated from the grave.

"Damn it…!" Park Jae-min cursed under his breath. Instinctively he raised his gun, aiming at the hideous figure, while Yun fumbled to steady his flashlight with trembling hands. The beam of light fell fully upon the creature—and with a shrill hiss, the specter recoiled. In the blink of an eye, it darted back into the depths of the building, disappearing once more into shadow.

"Yun, keep that light on it! Park, watch our backs!" Hae-jun barked, his voice slicing through the panic. The three detectives immediately pressed together, standing back-to-back in a tight circle as they tried to scan every direction at once.

They barely had time to catch their breath before a dense red mist began seeping up from the ground around them. Soundlessly, the sanguine fog coiled and spread, encircling them in a tightening ring. The darkness deepened as the mist choked off what little light remained. Somewhere beyond their sight, there came a dry rustle, like something scraping against debris.

"It's… it's not just one of them!" Yun Tae-sik cried out, voice breaking. No sooner had he spoken than a low, rasping hhaaahhh of breathing sounded from all sides, multiplying in the gloom. However many creatures were out there, it was more than one.

All at once, a low and ghastly chuckle echoed from the empty air above them. The laughter was distorted—inhuman—and it sent ice through their veins. That chuckling quickly slithered into words, a poisonous whisper that seeped through the red fog. "...Welcome, humans…" a voice rasped from nowhere and everywhere at once.

At the sound of that sinister greeting, Yun Tae-sik screamed. He dropped to the ground, slapping his hands over his ears as if to block out a voice only he could hear. Park Jae-min's eyes went wide with panic, and he stumbled backward. In unison, the world around the detectives began to warp. Their vision swam and buckled, reality itself twisting at the edges. It was as though the boundary between what was real and what was nightmare had begun to crumble. Shadows lengthened and writhed into horrific shapes, and the red mist swirled with faces and figures that couldn't possibly be real.

"It's just a hallucination! Snap out of it!" Hae-jun shouted desperately. But it was too late—the illusions had already sunk their claws into their minds.

Park Jae-min let out a strangled cry. Something unseen was clearly terrorizing him, driving him back. With a shaking hand, he waved his pistol wildly at empty air. "Stay back! G-get away from me!" he screamed, and then BANG! BANG!—he pulled the trigger twice, firing blindly into the mist. The gunshots rang out like thunder in the enclosed space, but even that explosive noise did nothing to quell Park's hysteria. The young detective's face crumpled as he choked out a sob. "M-mom… please…," he whimpered plaintively, as if begging someone only he could see. The sight made Hae-jun's blood turn to ice. Park's expression was raw with despair—a grown man reduced to a scared child in the face of whatever horror he was seeing.

Yun Tae-sik was faring no better. He had collapsed onto his knees, palms pressed hard against his ears. "No… no, stop… I don't want to hear it!" he was yelling, shaking his head frantically. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if refusing to look at some ghastly vision circling him. His shoulders trembled violently with panic.

A shiver of dread crept down Hae-jun's own spine as a chorus of phantom noises assaulted him too—distant screams, hateful whispers, a cacophony of horror with no visible source. For an instant, he thought he heard familiar voices amid the din. No… it can't be. Over the sinister murmuring, he could just make out the accusing voices of former colleagues—friends he had lost years ago in the line of duty. Their phantom reproaches flooded his ears, dripping with bitterness and blame. Cold sweat broke out on Hae-jun's forehead. His heart pounded erratically as guilt and sorrow from long ago rose up, threatening to drown him.

This isn't real… it's just an illusion, Hae-jun told himself fiercely, fighting to keep his sanity. "It's not real… It's not real," he gasped under his breath. But the hallucinations pressed in relentlessly, exploiting every buried fear and ounce of guilt in his soul. No matter how much he repeated the words, the nightmare refused to release its grip. The edges of Hae-jun's vision darkened, the world teetering as if he were about to black out.

Just when it seemed that the darkness would consume them all, a piercing roar split the air—a guttural, otherworldly roar that rattled the very ground. The sound was like some hellish beast bellowing from the depths. The red mist around them whipped into a sudden furious whirl. Hae-jun, through sheer will, forced his eyes open toward the source of the roar.

From deep inside the building came the gaunt specter they had seen earlier, now showing itself once more with a bone-chilling shriek. Beside it another shape materialized—a second creature, black and indistinct. The two specters turned toward each other and then lunged together, fusing with a nauseating wet sound. They began to merge, their forms twisting and writhing into one. An unearthly chorus of screeches rang out as the monsters combined into a single entity.

The thing that emerged was far larger and more hideous than either creature had been alone—a grotesque abomination born of nightmares. Its elongated limbs and skeletal body contorted as it threw back its head in a keening howl. Through the roiling red mist, two burning crimson eyes snapped open, shining with murderous intent. The eyes loomed higher and higher as the fused monster rose to its full towering height. It was a vision of pure terror, like the living embodiment of a nightmare.

The massive Specter let out a deafening, razor-edged wail, and a fresh wave of psychic assault crashed over the area. A barrage of horrific hallucinations and a crushing surge of that unbearable dehydration struck all at once, merciless and overpowering. The few officers on the perimeter who had still been on their feet collapsed to the ground, screaming in agony. The very air quaked with the force of the monster's onslaught. Hae-jun's surroundings convulsed violently, as if reality itself might shatter at any moment. His skin prickled and burned; he felt it drying, cracking, splitting like parched earth under a merciless sun, each fissure bringing searing pain. Despair flooded in alongside the pain. Around him, he could hear Yun and Park's screams tailing off into weak groans as they too were driven to the floor, overwhelmed and barely conscious.

At last, Hae-jun's strength failed. With a ragged gasp, he fell to his knees. Every muscle in his body went limp, energy utterly drained. His vision blurred as darkness closed at the edges of his sight. In that moment, a single, hopeless thought flashed through his mind: Is this how it all ends…?

As soon as the thought flickered, something inside Hae-jun snapped. No. Deep in his chest, behind the wall of despair, a spark of defiance ignited—burning hot and visceral. An intense heat surged up from within him, boiling over in an instant. Hae-jun's eyes flew open wide and he threw his head back, a raw, primal scream tearing from his throat. "Aaaaahhh—!"

In the same instant, a blinding flash of blue light erupted from Hae-jun's eyes. The brilliant azure glow exploded outward like a tidal wave. It swept through the corridor in a howling rush and shredded the encroaching red mist apart as if it were tissue. A thunderous boom rocked the building as a shockwave blasted out from Hae-jun's body, the blue light surging with explosive force.

The monstrous Specter let out a shriek of agony. The creature thrashed desperately, its fused form convulsing in the grip of that blue radiance. The searing blue light wrapped around the hideous shadow like living fire. Where it touched the Specter's withered flesh, the flesh sizzled and cracked. The monster's ashen skin began to char and blister, glowing red-hot before crumbling away. With one final, earsplitting scream that reverberated through the night, the Specter's towering body disintegrated—its entire form scattering into nothing more than blackened smoke within the blue glow.

All at once, the oppressive red mist that had enshrouded the area was gone. The bloody haze evaporated into the air, vanishing as if a terrible spell had been lifted. In a matter of seconds, the nightmare realm that had consumed them fell apart, leaving only the dim interior of the ruined building and the cool hint of dawn light filtering in.

As the blinding blue glare faded, Yun Tae-sik and Park Jae-min slowly began to come back to their senses. The cacophony of ghostly whispers and screams had vanished, and silence descended like a gentle blanket over the scene. Both detectives were shaking and gasping for breath. They stared in astonishment at Hae-jun, who was still kneeling on the ground and panting heavily.

Hae-jun remained where he was for a heartbeat longer, swaying unsteadily. The last sparks of blue light flickered around him and then went out. A sudden weakness flooded through his body, and he slumped down, catching himself with one hand on the floor. His entire body felt feverishly hot, steam-light wisps rising from his clothes into the cool air. Only the ragged sound of his breathing broke the quiet.

"Detective!" Park Jae-min cried out. He scrambled over and grabbed Hae-jun under the arm, keeping him from keeling over completely. "Detective, are you okay?!" Park's own voice was hoarse, but full of frantic concern. Yun Tae-sik, face bloodless, stumbled to Hae-jun's other side, hovering in case he was needed.

Hae-jun opened his mouth, trying to respond, but no words came out—his throat felt scorched and raw. He could only nod weakly, still gulping air. Truthfully, he wasn't sure what he was. Exhausted? In shock? Energized? Alive, at least.

Park's eyes were wide as saucers. He glanced from Hae-jun back to the space where the gigantic Specter had been moments before. "That light just now… what on earth was that?" he asked in a stunned whisper. Neither he nor Yun could believe what they'd witnessed.

Hae-jun could only shake his head, still breathing hard. He didn't know how to explain it himself. He had unleashed… something. Some kind of power buried inside him, triggered by desperation—but beyond that, he had no answers. As the strange anger and energy that had flared up within him subsided, he realized he actually felt lighter than he had in ages, almost rejuvenated. Every ache of fatigue in his limbs had vanished. Even the deep lines of exhaustion that had etched themselves into his face seemed to have smoothed out; his skin felt tighter, as if he'd shed years of aging in a single moment. Hae-jun touched a hand to his face in disbelief. Whatever that burst of power had been, it had left him physically renewed in its wake.

Before anyone could speak again, a figure emerged from the shadows near the destroyed entrance of the building. Hae-jun, Yun, and Park all tensed—until the newcomer stepped into a beam of weak light, and they saw who it was. Graying hair, an old bomber jacket, a scruffy salt-and-pepper beard: it was Fog, exactly as he had appeared before. The scraggly homeless man casually scratched his head as he looked over the three detectives, entirely at ease.

Yun Tae-sik and Park Jae-min gaped in astonishment. They had heard about this mysterious vagrant from Hae-jun—Fog, the strange informant or whatever he was—but this was their first time seeing him with their own eyes. Who in the world just strolls onto a scene like this, as if nothing happened?

Jung Hae-jun pushed himself shakily to his feet, shrugging off his colleagues' support. Though his legs trembled under him, he fixed Fog with a hard stare. Fury, confusion, and lingering adrenaline all warred within him. "Fog…!" Hae-jun shouted, his voice rough. "Those monsters that just appeared—And Lee Seo-ha, too—what the hell is going on? You owe us a proper explanation!"

Fog's lips curved into a low chuckle. He didn't seem the least bit surprised by the destruction around them. "See now, Detective? I was right all along, wasn't I?" he drawled, spreading his arms as if to gesture at the scene. "This here was just the beginnin'. Soon enough, there'll be even tougher and uglier critters comin' out in droves." His tone was light, but there was a somber weight to his words that hadn't been there before. For once, Fog's perpetually playful voice had gone grave and serious.

He continued, eyes locking with Hae-jun's. "I know I joke around a lot, but I ain't foolin' this time. I'm dead serious. If you want to keep this city from plungin' into hell, you gotta find Lee Seo-ha, that young lady. Find her quick. Y'all ain't got no time to waste, honest to God."

Hae-jun's heart pounded at the urgency in Fog's voice. Every instinct he had screamed to demand more—more answers, more clarity—but Fog was already turning away. The grizzled man tipped his head as if in casual farewell and began to stride back into the receding darkness.

"Hold on—!" Hae-jun started, taking a step forward, but Fog only raised one hand in a vague wave. "I'll be seein' y'all around, detectives," he called, already fading into the remaining wisps of red mist. "Till then, y'all best hold on tight to them lives of yours. One slip-up, and you'll be ghost chow before ya know it." His laugh echoed one last time, folksy and eerie all at once, and then Fog was gone—blurring into the mist and night until there was no trace of him at all.

In the silence that followed, only the distant wail of police sirens and the panting breaths of the detectives could be heard. Jung Hae-jun stood rooted to the spot, Fog's final warning ringing in his ears. He bit down on his lower lip hard, replaying every word. Despite the overwhelming fatigue threatening to drag him down, Hae-jun's eyes were cold and clear, burning with resolve.

Slowly, he lifted his gaze to the darkness where Fog had disappeared. The night was finally giving way to dawn, a gray light seeping into the sky. Hae-jun's hands curled into tight fists. "What on earth is happening here…?" he muttered under his breath, voice rough but determined. "Whatever it is—I swear I'll get to the bottom of it."

He didn't know what awaited him next, but one thing was certain: this was far from over. And Jung Hae-jun was not about to back down now.