This bus was definitely not an ordinary bus; Lana could have guessed that much before she even set foot on the thing. The faded-blue automobile looked like it had come from another country in another century. Definitely an antique, the vehicle looked so old that Lana didn’t think it could even run, and the interior corroborated this hypothesis. Inside, it looked more like a tiny, cramped living space than anything else. The seats had been removed, and the windows were swathed in mismatched polyester curtains. An old oven sat on the right side, next to a booth that looked like it had been ripped right out of a fifties diner and wedged into the side of the bus. On the opposite side of a narrow aisle were a tiny bed, a tall coat stand, and a round table covered by a doily cloth. The table was piled high with an odd assortment of items, ranging from an old gas lamp to an unplugged tube TV. A chainsaw and a giant bag of cat food rested against the trunk of the table.

Lana eyed the saw warily. Had she unwittingly stepped into the home of a deranged, psychopathic serial killer? No amount of self-defense classes could prepare her for fighting off a six-foot-something murderer with human skin for a face if he caught her in his domain. She shivered involuntarily at the thought of it. The drunkard was probably gone by now, so she should definitely, definitely get out of here ASAP. She was just turning back to the door when the sound of footsteps pattering up the stairs filled the air.

@#$%, @#$%, @#$%, Lana cursed in her head. Someone was boarding the bus, and whether it was the bus driver or the man from the alleyway, she was about to be caught. Her eyes darted across the vehicle, hastily seeking a place to hide. Panic-stricken, Lana glanced right over the bus’s back exit, instead fixating on a pair of doors to either side. The footsteps grew louder, and there was no more time to waste. She quickly dove past the right door, shutting herself in a teeny-tiny bathroom.

A humming voice crept through the wooden wall. Lana listened intently, curled up in a ball as she perched atop the toilet seat. Hopefully, the murmured singing meant that the man didn’t realize there was an intruder on his bus—unless he was humming to entertain himself as he sharpened his biggest knife. The melody sounded familiar though. Was it a pop song? It almost sounded like that hit by The Archetypes.

There was a sudden lurch, sending Lana flying off of the toilet. She toppled into the bus wall, and a thunderous, deafening crack split the air. As she landed in the shower, everything fell completely still. At the same time, everything was spinning... or was it just her head?

It took a few seconds for Lana to recover. When she finally regained her sense of balance, she scrambled back to her feet, careful to do so quietly so as not to alert the bus driver to her presence. She cracked the door open and peeked around the corner. At the front of the bus, a teenage boy with short, black hair sat in the driver’s seat. Lana slid back into the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind her.

Okay, she thought to herself, it’s just a kid. I’ll just sneak out through the backdoor, and no one will ever know I was even here, especially not Dad.

Just to be safe, she pulled the tiny can of Mace that Dad forced her to carry out of her bag. To think, his overbearing overprotectiveness might actually come in handy for once. She slowly pushed the door open, ready to dart out through the back exit, and froze when she almost ran face first into another human. She gulped, staring straight into the biggest pair of eyes she’d ever seen. He had puffy, swollen lips and stood almost an inch shorter than Lana.

“Hey,” he called, grabbing her arm. “You—”

Lana reacted instinctively. Without wasting another second, she whipped up the can of Mace and shot it into his ginormous owl eyes. He released her from his grip, squeezing his eyes shut and shrieking something unintelligible. Lana didn’t even glance back as she hurried away.

She stumbled off of the bus, bright sunlight flooding her vision. Without waiting for her eyes to adjust, she darted back down the alleyway she had just come from. The Byuns’ studio was just on the next street over; she would be safe and sound if she could make it there before the assailant caught up with her. She rounded the corner, ready to run into the protecting arms of her uncles, and froze in horror when she found herself staring at a scene entirely unexpected.

The street she knew was no longer there. She was standing on a glass bridge thousands of feet above the ground. Below her feet, she could see the tops of metallic skyscrapers and hundreds of futuristic cars soaring above them. The sky bridge was bustling with the weirdest assortment of creatures Lana had ever seen: people who looked human but seemed to be made of metal, half-horse humanoids, and tiny dwarves with odd hair colors and alien faces.

This place was nothing like Lana had ever seen before—at least, nothing like she had seen outside of sci-fi blockbusters. But what perhaps struck her as strangest of all was the colossal holographic billboard with a familiar face plastered on it. Some kind of commercial looped on the screen, and a gigantic man who looked eerily like a younger version of her own father glared icily at her from the film. He had the same blond hair, the same piercing eyes, the same judgmental gaze.

Lana stared at her father’s doppelganger for about two seconds before shrieking in horror. She glanced through the crowd in panic, her breath quickening into nonexistence. Where was the asphalt street? The Byuns’ photography studio? The city Lana grew up in? Just like that, in a short, dizzy flash, everything she knew was absolutely gone. She whirled in circles, desperately searching for some sign, some remaining fragment of her hometown, but there was nothing left.

Lana wheeled around, ready to flee back to the relative safety of the bus, when something bumped into her waist. She tripped, stumbling several feet before regaining balance. Her gaze flew to the ground, where a midget half her height with curly, aquamarine hair gawked at her. “Gwhf hha frufru ahve human!” the person spat at her in an incoherent tongue.

Lana couldn’t do anything but unleash a bloodcurdling scream. Wherever she was, whatever had happened, she had a feeling she wasn’t in South Korea anymore.

Author's Note
Hellooo, generic futuristic city from the future! It's all up to you now...