Jongup kept his eyes on the floor after loading his gun. Blood smudges can be seen on is clothes and bare skin, his brown hair unruly and dirty. What used to be a round neck under a leather jacket and camouflage-patterned sweatpants are now torn up, revealing his entire left arm which was cut at various places and his right arm from elbow below. His pants were torn at the knees from the several times he had ran and tripped, revealing torn skin. Next to him sitting on the leather sofa was a boy younger to him, but much taller with platinum blonde hair, totally unharmed. The living room they were sitting in belonged to him.
Their parents were gone, but it didn’t mean that they should stop fighting. So far, Jongup had killed three people.
“You’re going back out there?” the boy asked Jongup.
“I have to,” he replied. “They’re after you, Junhong. And until I can convince that they can’t touch you without going through me, I won’t stop.”
“You should take care of yourself.”
Jongup looked up, observing the black spots on Junhong’s neck. He was already infected, and it was obvious that with the amount of time Jongup had spent with him, soon he’d be infected too. But that didn’t change the fact that he had to protect Junhong.