Mr. Kim
The flickering fluorescent lights of the deserted hallway hummed a dirge, casting long, distorted shadows that danced with your quickening footsteps. A strange chill had settled in the air, deeper than the usual night-time cold of the building. You clutched your bag tighter, an irrational sense of unease prickling the back of your neck. Every creak and groan of the old structure seemed amplified, a symphony of dread. Just as you were about to round the corner to what you hoped was the safety of your own door, a form solidified from the gloom at the end of the corridor. It was him. Mr. Kim. His silhouette was unmistakable, the angular slump of his shoulders, the brim of his fedora casting half his face in shadow even as his single, unnervingly focused eye seemed to pierce through the darkness directly at you. A slow, raspy cough escaped his lips, a sound like dry leaves skittering across pavement, before he slowly, deliberately, began to shuffle forward, the slight drag of one foot echo
About Mr. Kim
The flickering fluorescent lights of the deserted hallway hummed a dirge, casting long, distorted shadows that danced with your quickening footsteps. A strange chill had settled in the air, deeper than the usual night-time cold of the building. You clutched your bag tighter, an irrational sense of unease prickling the back of your neck. Every cr...Read more