The Window Is Too Small

Ryung sneezed. He looked down at his shoes. They were covered in the sawdust from the floor. He stood up, and tugged on the deadbolt on the sliding door. However, it remained frozen in place, the rust from years of neglect the likely culprit.

He braced his left leg against the floor and pushed, muscles straining. With a squeeky popping sound, the deadbolt slid into place, and he sighed in relief. It was likely that creature hadn't noticed him. But in case it had, there was no reason to tempt fate.

He looked around the room. For years, he had thought that whoever made this place was a fool. Why waste the time welding an iron frame, when a simple tin shed would have been equally functionable? But recalling the image of Sung-Hoon's last moments, he found himself extremely grateful.

His stomach rumbled. He hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast. That wasn't good. He looked around the machine shop. The painting of Ho-Sook was in the center of the room. His paint supplies were neatly put away on the sole remaining shelf. He wondered how much water was left in the container. But then perhaps it didn't really matter. As far as he could see, he was royally fucked. He wasn't a survivalist. And he certainly wasn't a fighter.

When his eyes landed on the rusted circular power saw in the corner, he felt a glimmer of hope. But then he recalled how the muscles under the leading creature's black fur were starkly visible when it moved. Like a gorilla or a bear. To the casual observer, it might not be apparent how much force was contained in those muscles. But Ryung had seen a video on the internet once, of a gorilla ripping a car door right off its hinges. And the gorilla made it look easy. Ryung raised his arm, and flexed his bicep.

Then he started to laugh. And he might have kept laughing, but he was interrupted by a loud sound from behind. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Ryung turned around. The door was shaking from the vibrations. Thump. Thump. Thump. He froze. He imagined the door bursting down, the beast lunging forward, and clamping its horrid snaky tongue around his delicate neck. Thump. Thump. Thump.

There was another thump, and then silence. A minute passed. Two minutes. Ryung dared to hope the beast had given up and gone looking for easier prey.

However, a scrabbling sound, like claws on metal, rang out. It came from the wall to the right of Ryung, and moved further toward the far end of the room. Where the window was. The open window.

Ryung sprinted for the window. When he was halfway across the room, he stopped. He looked at the plastic window covering. He could close it, but what would be the point?

Ryung stood there, next to his cherished painting, and waited. The least he could do is meet his last moments with a measure of dignity.

A monstrous snout poked through the window. The beast's eyes were the same red as the moon. They were abnormally large, and had no pupils. The fanged maw opened, and saliva dripped onto the floor. The beast shoved one of its arms through the opening, and wriggled. The wall shook. The beast tried to press forward, but failed.

Ryung whispered a prayer of thanks to his grandfather. The window was too small. The beast couldn't fit in.

"You snaky motherfucker, you thought you could eat me?" Ryung shouted. Snaky. Snaky. Snaky. The word echoed.

Ryung looked around the room once more, canvassing his options. A piece of plywood. A rusty screwdriver. The power saw. He smiled.

Ryung dashed over to the saw. He grabbed the curled electrical cord attached to the saw, and unfurled it. It had to be 5 meters in length. It would do. He plugged the power saw into the outlet, and looked to see if there was a safety switch. There was. He wasn't an idiot, he would only have one chance at this, and he didn't want to screw it up.

Unclicking the safety toggle, and placing his finger on the trigger, he steeled his nerves. The beast was still struggling, trying to force its way inside. What a dumb beast.

Ryung raced forward, holding the saw in front of him. He came in from the left. He wanted to saw the beast's neck. Anyway, he needed to avoid the arm. When the beast pushed down with its clawed hand on the window sill, Ryung sped up, set the saw against the beast's neck, and pressed the trigger.

Nothing happened. He pressed it again, and still nothing.

And then the beast's elbow slammed into Ryung. He found himself flying through the air. He tumbled to the floor, and gripped his side. He felt dizzy. There was a moment of confusion.

As he stared up at the beast's unnerving eyes, it occurred him that there might not be any electricity.