Jiyong closed his eyes, wishing he was one of those select few that were insusceptible to the virus. He had no idea whether the brain actually truly died at infection or if people's thoughts were trapped in there somewhere. For all he knew they could be helplessly watching as their bodies performed all those heinous acts. Jiyong shivered at the thought. No, he was ready for death. He was ready to leave this god forsaken world of ghosts and soon-to-be-ghosts. He was ready. He had to be ready. He could feel that cumbersome thirst for life trying to take over his body, but he did his all to stave it off. If he tried to run, it would only hurt more, only prolong his suffering.

Jiyong could feel the Infectee's breath on his cheek. This was going to hurt. He felt the warmth of his skin as it made contact. Strange, Jiyong thought. He always assumed the Infectees were cold. Maybe because they were so ghost-like. Jiyong waited for the wave of pain to hit, but all he could feel was warm softness. Still holding his breath, he slowly opened his eyes. For a moment, Jiyong thought he was perhaps already dancing on the line between life and death and that was why he was hallucinating. His rapidly increasing heart rate convinced him otherwise. What the hell was happening? Unless his eyes deceived him, the Infectee was kissing him ever so softly on his cheek. What? Of all the scenarios Jiyong had dreaded, this one had obviously escaped him. Kissing him? The devil even had his eyes closed! What was this – a part of some kind of weird sadistic ritual? Maybe he wanted to be unique and not just plain old maim and mangle his victims, but kiss them first to utterly confuse them before dealing them the excruciating final blow. Playing with his food a little bit before helping himself to a big serving of 'scared out of his wits' Jiyong.

What should he do? Should he try punching him and making a break for it? There wasn't a chance in hell he would be able to make it out of there alive. Wasn't it better to die trying than to just stand here frozen, receiving a zombie's kiss of death?

Before Jiyong had a chance to act, the Infectee opened his eyes again and moved slightly back, facing him. Jiyong was paralyzed. He knew he could've tried running away several times in the time he wasted just standing there. Instead he simply stared back at the creature in front of him, mesmerized. He hadn't really stopped to truly look at one before, he had been too busy running for his life. He got a pang in his stomach as he thought how incredibly beautiful he must have been in his former life. Jiyong didn't know why, but he caught himself wishing he had met him while he was alive. He had a feeling they would've hit it off. But now it was too late. Not only for them, for everybody.

The Infectee suddenly raised his hand. Finally, he was going to put him out of his misery. Jiyong didn't really want to die, he only wanted to want it. Gently, the monster ran his fingers through Jiyong's hair. This one was more twisted that the ones he had come across. The ghost's hand lingered a while on the back of his neck. Jiyong's blood had stopped in his veins. This was it, he was going to snap his neck. Please let it be quick, Jiyong prayed.

When nothing happened, Jiyong snapped out of it. His will to live had won the fierce battle inside of him. He ran. He ran like he had never run before. He didn't look back. He didn't think. He just ran.

He only stopped when he had pushed his body further than of what it was capable. He had run so far that he couldn't even see the supermarket anymore. He collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. His heart pounding relentlessly on his chest as if it was punishing him for treating it this way. He saw spots, but after carefully analyzing what he saw between the spots, he was confident he hadn't been followed. Why hadn't he followed him? Jiyong felt unsettled after that oddest of encounters.