Blood On The Track

Blood On The Tracks

Soo-Young barely had time to slam the door shut before the infected slammed into it like a tidal wave of snarling, snapping bodies. Their hands clawed at the reinforced glass, leaving bloody smears as they threw themselves against the barrier. The metal handles groaned under the pressure.

Dr. Lee panted, his face pale. "They're getting faster."

Sergeant Park grabbed a metal rod from a maintenance compartment, jamming it against the handle. "This won't hold forever. We need a plan."

Soo-Young scanned the train car. They were now in the premium cabin, where cushioned seats and overhead compartments lined both sides. There were still a handful of survivors, most of them pressed against the far end, their faces frozen in fear.

A middle-aged man in a suit, gripping a briefcase like a lifeline, stammered, "A-Are they coming through?"

Soo-Young ignored him, focusing on the controls by the next door. Red lights blinked. Another lockdown.

Ji-Hyun turned to Dr. Lee. "Can't you override it?"

Dr. Lee hesitated. "The system is automated. It must have detected contamination."

"That's great," Park muttered. "It's locking us in with the monsters."

A loud crack rang through the cabin.

Soo-Young whipped around—the glass in the door behind them was spider-webbing with fractures.

"They're breaking through," she breathed.

Then—

SMASH.

A jagged hole burst in the glass, shards flying. A long, pale hand shot through the opening, grasping blindly for flesh.

A woman near the back screamed.

The infected shoved their weight against the breach, their faces pressing through the shattered hole—eyes vacant, jaws opens wider than humanly possible. Their teeth snapped like starving animals, drool dripping in thick, blackened strands.

Ji-Hyun shrank back, horror widening her eyes. "Mom—"

Soo-Young pulled out her knife, and stabbed the first infected through the wrist. The creature didn't even flinch. It only twisted its head toward her, lips peeling back in something almost like a grin—

Then it lunged swiftly through the hole.

Soo-Young barely dodged as it forced half its torso inside, its limbs bending strangely. Its bones cracked with unnatural flexibility, allowing it to fold itself through the tiny gap.

She reacted on instinct—grabbing the nearest fire extinguisher and slamming it into the infected's skull.

THUD.

The creature staggered but did not fall.

It snapped its head up—jaw dislocated, flesh peeling—and lunged at her again.

Sergeant Park fired.

BANG!

The bullet ripped through the infected's eye, spraying blackened blood across the seats. It convulsed violently, fingers twitching—then slumped forward, lifeless.

For a breathless second, no one moved.

Then the glass shattered completely.

The infected poured into the car.

****

The Fall Of The Premium Cabin

"RUN!" Soo-Young shouted.

Passengers screamed as the infected surged forward.

The suited man dropped his briefcase in shock—only to be tackled by a snarling woman with rotting lips, and shattered teeth. She sank her fangs into his throat.

A horrible gurgling cry filled the air as blood sprayed against the window.

A teenage girl tried to climb over the seats—an infected yanked her ankle. She kicked and sobbed, struggling against the inhuman grip—

Then another latched onto her shoulder, its jagged teeth clamping down.

She shrieked.

Soo-Young grabbed Ji-Hyun's wrist and ran.

Dr. Lee followed, stumbling over fallen bodies.

Sergeant Park held the rear, firing round after round into the mass of writhing bodies. "Keep moving! GO!"

Soo-Young slammed into the next door panel, swiping the keycard.

Access Denied.

Her heart stopped.

"No," she whispered.

Dr. Lee paled. "It's not accepting the conductor's key!"

A bloodcurdling screech made them whip around.

The infected were getting faster. Their movements were evolving, as if the virus was adjusting.

One of them—its bones strangely snapped backward, moving on all fours like a beast—crawled toward them at impossible speed.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" Ji-Hyun screamed.

Sergeant Park emptied his clip into the creature's skull. It convulsed, and dropped—but more took its place.

Soo-Young pressed the key again—denied.

She gritted her teeth. No time left.

She took a step back—

Then slammed her knife into the panel.

SPARKS FLEW.

The emergency override flickered—

Click.

The door slid open.

"INSIDE!" Soo-Young shoved Ji-Hyun through.

Dr. Lee tumbled in after her, gasping.

Park shot the last round before diving through the door—

Soo-Young followed—

And slammed her palm against the emergency close button.

BAM.

The door sealed shut just as the infected crashed against it.

A deafening silence filled the next car.

Panting, shaking, they turned to face the survivors in this section.

There were only three.

A young woman in a train attendant uniform, gripping a metal rod.

A little boy, crying silently in a corner.

And an older man, slumped in a seat—his breathing labored.

Soo-Young's gaze sharpened.

Blood soaked his sleeve.

"Wait," Dr. Lee breathed. "He's—"

The old man opened his eyes.

They were pure black.

Then he at him lunged.

---

The Monster Within

Soo-Young moved on instinct.

The infected old man launched from his seat, his jaws opens unnaturally wide, blackened veins bulging under his papery skin. His fingers curled into claws, reaching for the nearest victim—

The crying boy.

Ji-Hyun screamed.

Soo-Young threw herself between them, slamming her foot into the old man's chest. His frail appearance was deceptive—he was unnaturally strong. Instead of flying back, he only staggered, his head twisting toward her with a sickening crack.

He lunged forward again, this time, more swiftly.

Soo-Young ducked, and plunged her knife into his stomach.

The old man didn't react.

Instead, he grinned—a ugly, toothy smile, black blood bubbling between his teeth.

Ji-Hyun yanked the crying boy away. "Mom!"

Soo-Young ripped the knife out,.and aimed higher—the throat this time.

But before she could strike, Sergeant Park grabbed the metal rod from the train attendant and swung with full force.

CRACK.

The old man's skull caved inward, his body spasming violently. His blackened eyes flickered—his mouth twitched as if trying to form words—

Then he crumpled to the floor.

For a moment, no one moved.

Then Dr. Lee exhaled shakily.

"He… he turned slower than the others," he murmured.

Soo-Young wiped the blood off her knife. "What are you saying?"

Dr. Lee crouched beside the corpse, examining the black veins spreading under the loose skin. "The incubation time is inconsistent. Some people turn in minutes, others in seconds."

Park scowled. "Meaning?"

Dr. Lee looked up, his face pale. "Meaning we have no idea who could be infected but not turned yet."

The weight of his words settled heavily over the group.

The train attendant swallowed. "You mean… one of us could be next?"

A thick silence followed.

Soo-Young turned to the boy, who was still crying silently, his tiny fists clinging to Ji-Hyun's sleeve. His cheeks were streaked with tears, his small body trembling.

She knelt in front of him. "Are you hurt?"

The boy hesitated—then shook his head.

Ji-Hyun hugged him protectively. "His name is Joon. He was hiding under the seats when we came in."

Soo-Young exhaled. At least he was unharmed. But the train attendant…

She studied the young woman, who looked barely in her twenties. Her uniform was rumpled, and her hands were wrapped in bandages, as if she had been injured earlier.

Soo-Young's gaze sharpened.

"How did you survive?"

The attendant stiffened.

For a moment, she didn't answer. Then, quietly, she said, "I locked myself in here when the chaos started. I didn't drink the bottled water."

Park crossed his arms. "And those bandages?"

The attendant hesitated again—then lifted her hands. "I cut myself trying to break the vending machine. I was trying to get food for the kid."

The tension didn't ease.

Park leaned toward Soo-Young. "You think she's clean?" he muttered.

Soo-Young studied the girl's posture—the way she avoided eye contact, the way her fingers trembled slightly.

"She might be telling the truth," she murmured. "But if she's not… we can't afford to hesitate."

---

With the infected sealed behind them, the group gathered in the lounge cabin, which had plush seats, vending machines, and overhead compartments. The emergency lights flickered dimly, casting the space in an eerie glow.

Dr. Lee sat at a small table, scribbling frantically in his notebook.

Soo-Young leaned against the window, watching the blurred landscape of Korea speed past.

Ji-Hyun was with the little boy, handing him a small packet of crackers from a vending machine. The boy was eating slowly, his wide, frightened eyes never leaving the door.

Park stood near the emergency exit, gripping his rifle. His stance was tense—a soldier waiting for the next attack.

Finally, Dr. Lee spoke.

"The virus is spreading too fast."

Soo-Young turned to him. "You said you were working on a cure."

Dr. Lee hesitated. "Yes. But I never finished it."

Park exhaled sharply. "So what are we supposed to do? Sit here and wait to die?"

Dr. Lee rubbed his temples. "No. I might not have the full cure, but I do have something—a partial suppressant. It could slow the infection down."

Ji-Hyun's head snapped up. "Then why haven't you used it?"

Dr. Lee's hands tightened into fists. "Because I only have one dose."

Silence fell.

Soo-Young's stomach twisted. One dose. That meant if anyone in their group got infected…

They could only save one person.

She looked at Ji-Hyun.

Her daughter.

Park exhaled. "Well, let's hope we never have to use it."

A loud thud interrupted him.

Everyone froze.

The sound had come from above them.

Another thump—this time followed by a scraping sound.

Soo-Young's blood turned to ice.

Dr. Lee's voice trembled. "They're on the roof."

Ji-Hyun clutched Joon tighter. "H-how did they get up there?"

The train attendant whispered, "There are emergency ladders outside the train…"

Park cocked his rifle. "We need to move. Now."

Soo-Young didn't hesitate. "Go to the next car—quietly."

The group crept toward the exit.

Above them, the scraping sounds grew louder.

Then—

BANG.

The ceiling craved inward.

Joon screamed.

The metal buckled.

Then—

A rotting hand burst through the ceiling.