Thirty rounds. 

 

That’s all Hansol had. Just a single standard magazine clip, holding it’s maximum thirty bullets. The unsettling thought of this being too little rang in the back of his head like an alarm as he walked stoically through the lower class district, neon lights humming and subway trains screeching.

Hansol was determined to make sure the owner and loyal customers of the roadside convenience store were killed by his hand.

 

He pulled on the hood of his over-sized army green jacket as he pulled the AK-47 from his duffle bag. He flicked the safety lever into the upward position as he approached the quiet store. His violent intentions seemed out of place when the door chimed as he entered. Hansol’s heart was racing as he places his finger on the trigger, and braced the gun against his shoulder to absorb the recoil. 

Heads turned almost as if time had been slowed down. He looked the store clerk in dead in the eye. The middle-aged man’s pupils dilated, but his posture was calm. Resting his weight in his palms against the counter. 

The man gave him a small nod. 

 

”Do it,” Was all that was said, in a cigarette-chard voice before a series of gunshots was spayed into the store.

 

The carnage was over just as soon as it started. Hansol wiped the blood splatter off of his face with his sleeve.He admired the bodies that lay dead on the ground before shoveling food and drinks into the bag along with his rifle, police sirens sounding in the distance. He slung the duffle bag over his shoulder and left through the fire exit after flipping off the security camera. Running his finger through his brown hair, he sighed. A police car came to a screeching halt behind him, demanding that he freeze and put his hands in the air. Hansol broke into a sprint, pistols firing beanbags just barely missing him. His frantic flee lead him to a long abandoned bridge. Overgrown with trees, decaying and eroding, he figured the thick brush and 80 foot drop would be far too dangerous to use as an escape route, but the cops didn’t have to know he wasn’t THAT stupid. He began to climb over the railing with the intention of hiding on the underside of bridge in hopes that the cops would assume he’d fallen to his death. This would have been a good plan, if it hadn’t been interrupted by an excruciating pain shot through his body. He had been shot with a taser.

His grasp loosened and he tumbled over, falling through the vegetation and coming to a skidding stop at the bottom of a muddy hill, the barbed metal prongs still stuck in his skin.

He laid groaning in the dead leaves and mud until finally blacking out.

 

"Alright. Jeonghan, A mutant, and the President. Go."

 

"Kill the President, marry Jeonghan, and - a mutant." Mingyu snickered. Him and Hoshi had taken to playing several twisted rounds of , Marry, Kill on their scavenging trip.

 

Hoshi looked disgusted, "You would a mutant?!" He shook his head, "Dude. Gross."

 

"It's better than ing the President, or being murdered by Seungcheol." The brunette replied with snark.

 

"I can't believe you would - I mean, after they took over half of the ing city - killed people! Jesus..." Hoshi was visibly upset, shaking his head again and sighing.

 

Mingyu backed away defensively, "It's just a game...jeez."

The mutant outbreak that happened forty-eight years ago, after the nuclear war two years prior left half the city in shambles. People who lived in the lower class district had to be careful of mutants wondering the streets carelessly. But Hoshi and Mingyu didn't live in the lower class. No, they lived even poorer lives. The land which they lived was considered mutant territory; the part of the city deemed a no-go zone after the mutant attack. Left behind and disregarded. Anyone who walked into the old part of the city either had a death wish, or were just completely crazy. Mingyu and Hoshi however, lived there for other reasons.

Suddenly, Mingyu stopped, shushing Hoshi, the mechanical beeps of his bionic headgear giving soft warnings, "I hear something."

 

Hansol woke up groggy and sore. He scanned his surroundings through tired eyes. The distinctive sound of illegible conversation paired with approaching footsteps caught his attention. He slowly crouched behind a tree, trying to identify where the potential threat was coming from. This part of the city was treacherous. Mutant infested. God only knows what kind of creatures lurked in these areas. Hansol took a deep breath. He remembered that he’d uselessly emptied all 30 of the bullets when only 24 were needed to get the job done. Revenge comes with a price, though the rifle would still make a good melee weapon. A gun to the face would surely knock anyone and anything out cold. He placed the bag on the ground and shuffled through it, firmly grabbing the AK-47. He prepared to attack, stepping out from behind the tree in a defensive stance.           

Mingyu yelped, reflexively grabbing the gun-shaped object in his pocket and shooting a taser bullet at whatever had just stepped out from behind that tree.

 

"Dude!" Hoshi freaked out, "What the ??" He looked from Mingyu to the body that had just fallen to the ground, kneeling down to check it out.

 

"I-Is it dead?" Mingyu asked timidly. Hoshi rolled his eyes, moving his blond hair put of his face.

 

"'It's' a human."

 

"Oh."

 

Hoshi looked around the body a bit, noticing the various cuts a bruises, "Jesus...you'd think this guy fell 50 feet or something..." He checked for a pulse, "Still alive, though. Congrats Mingyu, you're not a murderer."

 

"But he might be-" Mingyu crouched down next to the unconscious brunet boy, picking the gun up that laid beside him, "This is a pretty hefty gun..."

Neither of the two knew a lot about guns, and decided to just put it back in the boys bag. Upon opening it though...

"Holy ! Hoshi- look at this!! Jackpot!"

In the black duffle bag was a variety of different foods and drinks, "This would last us at least three weeks!"

 

"We can't just take his food Mingyu-"

 

"Sure we can!" Mingyu started to zip the bag up, slinging it over his shoulder.

 

Hoshi just stood there for a moment or two, watching the taller boy pack up the food before looking back at the helpless brunet on the dirt filled ground, "We can't just leave him here- what if a mutant gets him-" Hoshi said, visibly concerned.

 

Mingyu groaned, "Fiiiine Hoshi. Bring him with too. I'm sure Seungcheol will love that." Mingyu sneered with sarcasm.

 

Hoshi scoffed, rolling his eyes and picking up the unconscious boy, carrying him on his back.

 

"We're homeee!" Mingyu mused upon entering the decaying building. The sign outside reading 'Orphanage' in worn out black letters to match the desolated appearance of the stone building overtaken by vines and vegetation. All the windows were either boarded up by rotting planks of wood, or covered by glass, caked with dirt.

 

The inside was lit by a calming fire and a couple of randomly placed candles, giving the place a warm orange tint to it. The orphanage was three stories tall, including a basement, where they usually kept all their food. It was empty, and had been for about three days now.

Mingyu slung the duffle bag onto the small wooden table and stretched his limbs, Hoshi walking in after him.

"Where do I put him?-"

 

”You’ll put him back where you found him,” Said an authoritative voice. Mingyu looked at Hoshi with an ‘I-told-you-so’ expression.

 

Seungcheol crossed his arms over his chest as he walked into the front room after hearing Mingyu announce their return. “We have plenty of mouths to feed as is, and we can barely keep up with that,” His tone softened. “Bringing a stranger here was a mistake. He could be dangerous.” 

 

”But he has a bag full of food. Enough to last us a few weeks,” Hoshi defended, ignoring his leader’s orders and placing Hansol’s limp body onto the table next to the duffle bag. 

”That has to count for something. He might be able to find more.”

 

”He also has an AK-47 sticking out of that bag full of food,” Seungcheol gestured towards the assault rifle’s barrel. 

Hoshi and Mingyu shared a concerned glance, knowing this was a loosing battle. Light footsteps could be heard coming from living room. Joshua peeked his head into the hall after overhearing the argument. 

 

”Seungcheol, we can’t just turn him away. He’s clearly injured and weak. A taser wouldn’t normally knock someone out, and look at the state his body is in. Leaving him out there would be a death sentence for him,” Joshua said in a calm but serious tone. He, out of all the boys, was the one with the most medical knowledge, and the most fine-tuned moral compass. He and Seungcheol often found themselves quarreling over moral dilemmas. He moved to the table to better examine Hansol’s wounds. There were gashes and bruises up and down his entire body. Just then Hansol’s hand grabbed tightly at Joshua’s throat, earning a collective gasp. Seungcheol pulled his friend behind him, quickly and skillfully holding Hansol’s arm down and a knife to his neck. Mingyu moved closer to help in restraining the violent flailing.

 

”Where am I?! Who are you people!” Hansol demanded, glaring at Seungcheol’s firm grip. 

 

”We don’t want to hurt you!” Joshua pleaded, fearful of what Seungcheol may do if Hansol didn’t calm down.

 

”Oh yeah? Tell that to the guy holding a knife to me! Not to mention the mother er who tased me!”

 

Joshua looked at Mingyu, “You tased him? What exactly happened out there?”

 

”We heard something behind a tree and-” Hoshi was cut off. 

 

”And he shot me!-,” Hansol interrupted, he paused and looked at Mingyu, “Are you wearing ing cat ears on your head?! Oh my god you’re all insane.”

 

The rest of the boys staying in the rundown orphange began pouring into the room, bewildered by the sight of someone unfamiliar.

 

Mingyu frowned, feeling slightly insulted as he touched the mechanical pair of cat ears attached to his head. It's not that the cat ears were just some silly thing he wore on his head, there was reason to them. When Mingyu was about four years old, his dad had pushed him out of their window to save himself from a mutant who has found its way into their apartment. He doesn't know if his dad made it...but he didn't care. After the fall, it lead him to some serious brain damage. He was left wondering around the city, his brain bleeding, slowly dying...until he came upon this orphanage.

Back then, this part of the city was still intact, before the second big mutant outbreak four years ago, and the orphanage was fully functional. He stumbled upon a boy, who he later learned was named, Dooyoon.

Dooyoon helped him with his injury, fixing the wound, and sealing it back up with a piece of advanced technology attached to his brain, his life source. It started as a single metallic band on his head, but after Dooyoon was adopted, Mingyu took on machinery as well. He equipped his brain with special 'upgrades' such as, improved hearing, and reflexes. All the while slowly shaping the metallic structure into cat ears.

 

"I need them- I had a brain injury when I was four..." Mingyu began, being cut off by the harsh boy.

 

"I didn't ask for your whole life story. I want to know why the you brought me here." Hansol looked around at the other boys who had walked in, rolling his eyes as the ridiculous amount of idiots he would now have to deal with.

 

"Well- We couldn't just leave you-..." Hoshi said, intimidated by the boy.

 

"Then let me go." He crossed his arms over his chest, "If i don't need to be here anymore, why keep wasting both of our time-" He suddenly stopped to think for a moment. Here, he had free shelter...the cops would never find him. It was the perfect place to lay low for the time being.

"Unless...you guys could use another scavenger. I can help you find food."

 

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow at the suspicious change of heart. Joshua looked at the older boy with caring eyes,“You know, he’s right. He’s obviously good at finding food, and we all know how difficult it’s been to keep everyone fed,” He said softly.

 

Joshua was right and Seungcheol knew it. Their food and water rations were constantly too little. Most of the boys had gotten used to grumbling stomachs and malnourishment. Seungchel sighed in defeat. “Fine. He can stay and help us scavenge, but the second he becomes more trouble than he’s worth, we’re getting rid of him.” 

 

”You can’t be serious!” Jihoon chimed in. He was one of the quieter boys, until he disagreed with someone. He was more than willing to voice his opinions, no matter who’s toes he stepped on in the process. 

 

”Jihoon, remember you’re hungry too,” Joshua reminded him, Jihoon grumbled in disgust. “We’ve been rude,” Joshua looked at the bloodied boy still on the table, “We haven’t introduced ourselves yet. I’m Joshua, this is Seungcheol, our leader. Mingyu and Hoshi are the ones who brought you here,” Joshua began pointing to each of the boys, “This is Wonwoo,” He said gesturing at a tall boy with dark hair, who seemed to be trying to telepathically communicate with Mingyu, “Then Jihoon,” Jihoon’s glare was sharp and cold. “Chan...” The youngest of the boys waved politely at his introduction, “And finally, Jeonghan,” Joshua placed his hand on Jeonghan’s shoulder, his long hair brushing against Joshua’s fingers.

 

Hansol took a small deep breath. “My name is Hansol,” He said quietly, stepping down from the table on sore feet.

 

”Joshua, can you patch his wounds while Jeonghan and I clear off one of the extra beds upstairs?” Seungcheol asked nicely. Joshua nodded and lead Hansol to the bathroom where they kept their medical supplies. He tended to Hansol’s many cuts and gashes. Disinfecting and bandaging them carefully. 

 

Jeonghan sighed, putting cleans sheets on the small bed that would be Hansol's from now on. He tucked his ginger hair behind his ear, looking at Seungcheol.

"Was that...the right thing to do?" He questioned quietly, referring to the decision to let Hansol stay. I mean, they knew absolutely nothing about him. And the gun was suspicious.

 

 "I don't trust him." Seungcheol began, tossing a pillow onto the bed, "But we need food. I'd rather take the risk if it means keeping you and the others healthy."

 

Jeonghan smiled, "You're sweet..."

Seungcheol's cheeks flushed as he looked down, clearing his throat and cleaning off the rest of the bed. Jeonghan moved to tidy up the comforter as all the sudden there was a slightly repetitive beeping noise, and his arm froze. He sighed in frustration, rolling his eyes, "I'm getting tired of this..."

 

Seungcheol looked up at him in sympathy and then down to the metal contraption connected to his forearm.

About four years ago, during the second mutant outbreak, Seungcheol had stumbled upon two people, one badly injured, and the other about thirteen years old. They were surrounded by mutants, and if it wasn't for Seungcheol, he was sure they would have died. The other boy's arm was so severely broken that the bone was sticking out of his skin. That boy, was Jeonghan. The other being Chan. The two were close friends, practically brothers, and from Seungcheol's understanding, Chan's parents sacrificed themselves to save to two boys. When Seungcheol had brought them back to the orphanage Jeonghan got immediate care from Joshua, who asked Mingyu to make him this mechanical splint to help heal his wound. Though, at times the splint freezes up around Jeonghan's arm due to the fact that Mingyu just didn't have the right equipment, therefore making it a little faulty.

 

"Sit down really quick." Seungcheol told Jeonghan, as he say down on the bed. The only way to fix this problem was to massage his arm, loosening his muscles to enable movement again.

 

"Thank you..." Jeonghan smiled at him as he began to loosen his muscles. Seungcheol just nodded, blushing ever so slightly. Jeonghan smelled nice.

 

”So, what’s the story behind the scars?” Hansol asked bluntly, referring to the two jagged lines in an ‘X’ shape over Joshua’s eye. He was never one to sugarcoat. Joshua worked delicately, using a damp cotton pad to dab a large gash above Hansol’s eyebrow clean of dirt and and dried blood. 

 

”It happened happened four years ago. I had to stitch up my wounds,” Joshua replied. There was a sadness hidden thinly behind honest eyes. 

 

Hansol almost felt sorry for him, however this did not stop his curiosity. “Yeah, about that. What exactly happened?....”

 

Joshua placed rubbing alcohol over the gash, earning a small hiss from Hansol. “Mutants. We never really figured out why so many of them came to a concentrated area, or why we happened to get in their way, but one evening as our caretaker, Raina, was cleaning up after dinner, there was a strange stillness. Kind of like how the wind stops right before a storm hits. The next thing we knew, the windows were being shattered by various mutants clawing their way inside. We all did our best to fend them off, but there were too many. The mutants came and went. One scratched me across the eye when I tried to pull it off of her. She managed to get away, and when she did, she ran outside to distract the creatures from us. It worked. We lost not only her, but one of our housemates as well....”

 

Hansol was at a loss for words. He didn’t know how to react to the loss in Joshua’s voice. He stayed quiet out of mourning in a way. He was familiar with the death Joshua felt that day. 

The silence was abruptly broken by the sound of Seungcheol clearing his throat. Both boys turned to the leader. “Your bed is ready. The food in your bag was put in the basement. Grab it and I’ll show you to your room.” 

 

Seungcheol stood in the door as Joshua finished up. Hansol walked past him and followed Seungcheol up the creaky stairway and down the narrow hall. “You’ll be bunking with Jihoon,” He said.

 

”Are you sure that’s a good idea? He doesn’t seem too fond of me,” Hansol’s voice had a certain sourness to it. 

 

”Don’t flatter yourself; he’s not fond of anyone,” Seungcheol smirked, leading Hansol into his new room. Luckily for him, Jihoon was absent. “Home sweet home.” Seungcheol mused sarcastically as he began to leave the room. He paused at the door and watched his most recent mistake unpack.

 

Hansol hung the unloaded rifle on the headboard and pushed the empty duffle bag under his bed. He pulled a folded distressed picture from his coat pocket and leaned it against the small lamp on the bedside table, along with the large, military grade knife that was hidden in his boot. 

 

”Is that your family?” Seungcheol asked, looking at the picture depicting a family sitting under a tree, a woman with blonde hair, smiling sweetly as her husbands arm draped over her slender shoulder. Sitting in the man’s lap was a little girl, younger than Hansol, who was hanging upside down on a branch displaying a goofy toothless smile.

 

”Do you usually go around asking about people’s lives?” Hansol growled, avoiding the question. 

 

”Nevermind then. You’re lucky. It’s a lovely family.” The pain in Seungcheol’s voice was heavy and thick with tragedy. He took one step before hearing a soft sigh. 

 

”Thank you...” Hansol said in just over a whisper. “what happened to your’s?....” He asked.

 

”That’s a bit hypocritical of you to ask considering you got defensive over a picture, isn’t it?” Seungcheol walked slowly back into the room, inching closer to Hansol.

 

”I’m a private person, okay?” Hansol defended.

 

”You have no right to speak to me like I’m just some nosy bastard. These people are my friends, some of them are like brothers to me. I don’t like inviting a stranger with an assault rifle and mysterious past to stay under the same roof as the people I’ve spent nearly my entire life trying to protect,” 

 

”You don’t trust me.”

 

”Not one ing bit,” 

“Then why’d you let me stay?”

 

”Because I’m tired of seeing my friends go to bed hungry. Keep food coming and you can stay, but if I find out you’re dangerous, you won’t be worth it,”

 

Hansol was admittedly intimidated despite his angry expression.

 

”Raina was like a mother to me,” Seungcheol’s tone, although still serious, had softened, “I was left at her doorstep as an infant. She easily could have turned me away, but instead she took me in as her own. It’s what inspired her to start this orphanage in the first place. My history here goes back to before you were even born. Threaten that, and you’re a dead man walking.” And with that, the leader left feeling as though he had made his point.

 

Hansol sighed as Seungcheol left. Was that a ing threat? Jesus christ. He was thinking twice about the decision of staying here, but there was no other option for him. If he left, he would have been alone in a large decrepit city infested with mutants. And, it wasn't exactly the mutants that kept Hansol from leaving, it was the food. If he left, he'd would have to scavenge for food himself, and her really didn't know if he would be able to keep himself nourished enough to fight off the mutants. Of course going back to the city was out of the question. Hansol's only chance of staying alive was living here. Whether he liked these people or not.

 

All the sudden he felt the low rumble of him stomach. He was hungry. Great, now he had to go and be around people. Lovely.

Hansol left his room, turning to head down the wooden stairs as he was abruptly stopped by a tall boy in front of him. Light brown hair, fairly tall, skinny; Hansol remembered his name from when Joshua introduced everyone. Wonwoo.

He just stood there, looking at Hansol with dark chocolate eyes that were nearly lifeless. It sent chills through his body.

 

"Uhm..." Hansol cleared his throat, "Hello?"

The taller boy lookes down, walking past Hansol and into a room across from his own with out saying a single word. Creepy. He looked around for rhe closest person, which ended up being Mingyu. He walked towards him.

"So...whats that guys problem?" He was referring to Wonwoo.

 

"Hm?- Wonwoo?" Mingyu looked down at the brunet, "Oh...well, he's just been through a lot."

Mingyu is very, very close to Wonwoo, and despite Mingyu being younger, he took care of him. Wonwoo arrived at the orphanage at age seven, a year older than Mingyu himself. Raina had found him abandoned on a boat, malnourished and near death. Who knows how long he had been there. The story he told Mingyu was that his parents had tried to escape the city by means of sailing, but the police showed up before they set off. They put Wonwoo in the boat, sending him off before the police ended up killing both of them, right in front of his own eyes. When Wonwoo had finally gotten to the the orphanage, he didn't talk to anyone. Not for four straight years. Mingyu finally got close enough to him to get some words out of him. Wonwoo found Mingyu as a source of comfort, and found it difficult to do anything without the presence of the younger, even sleeping. So when it came to a situation where Wonwoo no longer bunked with Mingyu, the taller boy made him a small music box to help him sleep. However, that was lost in the mutant attack.

"He'll just need some time to warm up to you!" He smiled and went to pat Hansol's back before thinking twice and awkwardly stretching to hide his mistake.

 

Hansol nodded slightly, "Right."

 

He made his way downstairs to the basement, coming into contact with another person. A shorter person - And Hansol grumbled under his breath because, this guy has a temper and obviously didn't like him. Jihoon.

 

Hansol felt a harshness in the atmosphere, although he avoided eye contact, the glare being shot through him was obvious. He grabbed the small portion of food and the had been set in a small box with his initials on it. Jihoon was in charge of daily rations, most of his time was spent in the basement, either making sure everyone in the house got at least 1,200 calories or just enjoying the solitude. 

 

Hansol noticed a nest of blankets and pillows in the corner, encircled by short towers of books and papers. There was a star shaped lamp siting next to the reading nook, it changed peacefully from blue to red, red to purple, purple to green and then back to blue. It almost seemed to calm for Jihoon’s personality. He was very tense and pensive, seemingly always in deep turmoil. There was a certain kind of anger manifesting somewhere inside him. Jihoon’s angst was not without reason, however. 

All the boys in the orphanage had lost someone on that tragic evening four years ago. Jihoon and his little brother lived with their grandmother, as they have all their lives. The mutants attacked just hours after her funeral. Jihoon, devastated by the loss of the woman who raised him, lost track of time. In his mournful state, he collapsed onto his bed, lost in a world of thought. His brother was determined to make Jihoon feel better. He snuck out and into the field next to their house. He was picking flowers to make a bouquet when he was suddenly tackled to the ground. Jihoon was shocked by the screams of the young boy, and darted to the window where he was a single mutant tearing into his brother. He grabbed his grandmother’s cane from near the door and sprinted to his brother’s rescue. He beat the mutant unconscious, but he was too late. Bloodied and broken, his brother lay motionless surrounded by the flowers he’d been picking. Jihoon cried out, dropping to his knees and pulling the small lifeless body to his chest. He sobbed for just ten minuets before a red hot rage rattled his bones and boiled his blood. He set his brother down gently, rose to his feet, and began to beat the mutant until it was unrecognizable. He swung the cane and kicked as hard as he could until his muscles screamed. 

 

He buried his brother at sunrise.

 

That kind of rage sticks with you. He held onto it from that day on, as a reminder that in this reality, there in no time to mourn, or even to trust. 

Hansol thought briefly about cliche small talk, wanting to break the awkward silence, but his mind was blank. He quietly made his way back upstairs. 

As Hansol walked back upstairs, he munched on the small piece of beef jerky he had grabbed from his food rations. As soon as he opened the door, a familiar blond entered the room. It was Hoshi. One of the two that brought him to his place.

He was the only one that particularly piqued Hansol's interest. From the blond hair, to a name like "Hoshi". It was strange to him. The brunet found himself speaking before the words even processed through his mind. 

“So, living with Seungcheol must get pretty stressful,” Hansol stated. 

 

Hoshi lightly shook his head, “You’ll get used to it. It takes time.” 

 

”How long have you been here?” Hansol asked, making himself comfortable in the living room.

 

”Four years. I found this place just a few hours after the mutant outbreak settled,” Hoshi looked at the ground, joining Hansol on the couch. 

 

”What happened to your family then?” 

 

”I did what had to be done,”