Seoul Object Story

The dense fog wrapped around the land, limiting visibility to just a few inches ahead. In the midst of this, a mannequin wandered alone, lost in the mist.

Huff... huff...

Breathing heavily, the mannequin instinctively gasped for air. It had long shed its human form, yet the habit of breathing in fear, an instinct from its human days, resurfaced. The overwhelming fear brought this reflex back.

The fog continued to thicken, making it harder to distinguish even vague silhouettes. With every step, cold moisture clung to its body. Dew began to form on the mannequin’s cold surface.@@novelbin@@

Ahhh!

A scream suddenly pierced the air, causing the mannequin to flinch.

The source of the sound was impossible to pinpoint. The fog seemed to distort the sound, making it come from one direction one moment and another the next.

Creek. Creek.

The sound that followed was even more horrifying—a crashing noise, as if something was violently shattered. The mannequin knew exactly what it was. It was the sound of its fellow mannequins being torn apart.

How many times had it heard this by now?

At first, it was just an ordinary sound of destruction. But now it was different. It understood all too well what it meant. Someone—no, something—was hunting its comrades one by one.

A faint shadow passed by in the fog. Instinctively, the mannequin curled in on itself. Its plaster body trembled slightly.

Had it ever felt this kind of fear when it was human?