Revenant Resonance Ch 3

Chapter 3

 

Because grotesques were also roaming the hallway, Yu Jiha pressed himself closely against the wall. The nurse gave her T-shirt a slight tug and whispered,

“Shouldn’t we try to act as naturally as possible?”

She was right. Yu Jiha walked as if hypnotizing himself into believing he was just a normal visitor at a regular hospital. Only after stepping out onto the stair landing at the end of the corridor was he able to gasp for the breath he’d been holding. His shoulders were so tense they hurt.

“Is everyone okay?”

“I have no fucking idea what the hell this is…”

There was no time to waste. After briefly checking in with each other and giving a few pats of reassurance, they headed up the stairs. The second floor came into view without incident, and the knight’s rigid expression finally softened.

“It seems doable as long as we follow the rules to the letter.”

Now that they had proof it could be trusted, the tension eased slightly. The group continued walking down the second-floor hallway, whispering in low voices. It probably looked more natural that way.

How long had they been walking like that? Suddenly, the hallway thudded with a heavy sound, and an enormous shadow loomed before them.

「Whhaat brrinngss yyyoou to Rooobonwoon¿」

The owner of the grating voice that scraped at their ears, just as grotesque as its unsettling appearance, was a grotesque in a nurse’s uniform.

The manual hadn’t been wrong when it said nurse-types patrolled alone—just not completely right, either.

‘They didn’t say anything about two monsters being fused together…!’

Yu Jiha wanted to scream in frustration. The nurse grotesque was a conjoined pair, moving as one with their backs fused. The grotesque on the opposite side flipped through a chart it held.

「Noo reespoonse. IIss ttheree anootheer paatiennt wwhooo esscaapeed oon thee sseeconnd flloor¿」

“S-Sorry…! I just started work today, so my greeting’s a bit late. I was showing these visitors to the patient rooms.”

Pale-faced, the nurse quickly bowed in panic. The grotesque’s eyes held suspicion, but the more it conversed with her, the more its expression softened. Yu Jiha couldn’t understand the technical talk, but it seemed she was handling it well.

The grotesque even relaxed its guard toward the rest of them and kindly offered to guide them. The nurse gave the group a discreet signal, her face a mix of apology and relief, then followed behind the grotesque.

The knight wiped sweat from his brow.

“I’m glad at least one of us got through safely.”

“If you hadn’t covered for us by saying we were visitors, we might’ve been in serious trouble.”

Only Park Junyeol made no effort to hide his scowl.

“What the fuck? A nurse gets to stroll off all safe and smug while we’re left behind to die?”

He hadn’t even finished grumbling when something white suddenly shot up from the floor. It wasn’t one of the grotesques they’d seen earlier, and it wasn’t dressed like a nurse or a doctor.

It wore a white robe, a Zhongshan suit jacket, and a mustache—by far the most human-like grotesque they’d encountered so far. And it spoke.

「Wwhhoo arre youu peoplee.」

“W-We’re… That is…”

They had to say something quickly, but no words came. If they weren’t staff, they’d have to be patients—but there was no way to guess which room they supposedly belonged to.

‘I thought we’d be in patient gowns with room numbers or something… what now?’

Different grotesques called for different responses. What kind of grotesque was this? All he knew for sure was that it wasn’t from Room 606. Then what? Were they supposed to laugh wildly? Fall to their knees in worship? Run?

Yu Jiha wasn’t the only one whose thoughts were spiraling. Park Junyeol and the knight were also speechless, lips trembling. The grotesque’s face twisted into displeasure.

「Ddeesspiiccabblllee brraats.」

That was when it happened.

〈So it’s okay, Jiha. It’s okay. Don’t worry.〉

A strange voice flowed into his mind like a dream, and static filled his vision—gray flashes stuttering across his eyes as if noise was frying his brain. An unbearable heat surged forward, searing like it might burn out his eyeballs.

The grotesque’s form rippled as if distorting, and then meaningless words began to layer over it.

[Worrsshhhiip■bbelieevee in Rrraaanaa■■Iwill■saavvee■yoou■IIaammthhe shheepheerdyoouaarree■■■■bbllessed■■oonnneess■tthesooorrowofthiswoorrld■■ssiinnnnerrs■■■saccffiicee■■■……]

If a visual could embody a blaring warning siren, it would be what was unfolding now—words that radiated ominous energy, scraping against the edges of his consciousness.

‘W-What the hell is this?’

As if he wasn’t already overwhelmed, now bizarre letters were appearing too. It felt like he was losing his mind. Was it some kind of hallucination tied to the grotesque? He glanced around in panic, but Park Junyeol and the knight didn’t seem to be seeing the floating letters like he was.

Meanwhile, the grotesque’s expression darkened further. Yu Jiha scrambled mentally. He had to grab hold of something, anything. If they just stood there, they were going to die. He didn’t know what the strange letters meant, but they’d appeared above the grotesque—so they had to be related. That meant the content… the Savior complex!

Yu Jiha instinctively dropped to his knees and prostrated himself on the floor.

“I believe! I believe! I—I worship you!”

He urgently signaled the others with his eyes. Mouthing ‘Room 101! 101!’ over and over again, he finally got Park Junyeol and the knight to follow his lead and bow down.

Only then did the grotesque’s face begin to ease, though it still seemed unsatisfied. Yu Jiha’s supply of worship phrases was already drying up.

As his eyes darted around in panic, they landed on the edge of the grotesque’s robe. The outfit gave off a vibe from the late Joseon period or Japanese colonial era. And during the colonial era, there had been a notorious cult…

“Ba-Baekbaek… Ah! O great greatgreat Baekbaek’s sacredssacred receptivereceptive blessinggggss! O great greatgreat Baekbaek’s sacredssacred receptivereceptive blessinggggss!”

At last, the grotesque burst out in a deep, belly-shaking laugh.

「Thhat is nott myy prrayerrr, butt thyy faaiith iss ccoommendabble. Ccoontinuue too hhoonnorr mme annd ddeevvottee yyoourrssellf.」

Satisfied, the grotesque melted into the floor and vanished. Even after its presence disappeared completely, Yu Jiha collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion, and the knight patted him on the back with a groan.

“You were amazing, student! What was that weird chant just now?”

“It was from a cult called Baekbaek-gyo… I learned about it in one of my classes.”

“Oh, Baekbaek-gyo? I think I saw something about that in an old movie. But how did you know it was Room 101? I had no clue.”

“You didn’t see those weird letters?”

“Letters?”

The knight looked baffled, and Park Junyeol didn’t seem to have seen anything either. Yu Jiha blinked in confusion. Come to think of it, the letters had disappeared. Was it just a hallucination…?

Either way, it had helped. Whether it was real or not, he’d worry about it later. Right now, getting away from these monsters was the top priority.

“Don’t get cocky just because you got lucky once. Let’s move.”

Unlike the knight, who repeatedly thanked him for saving their lives, Park Junyeol seemed irritated that Yu Jiha had become the center of attention. As Park Junyeol strode ahead, the knight leaned in and whispered,

“Did you know him before?”

“He’s a senior from school.”

Yu Jiha gave a vague smile at the knight’s sympathetic expression. He’d always found Park Junyeol unpleasant—a guy who’d stalked a classmate and fled to the military after being slapped with a restraining order. He only re-enrolled after the victim graduated, and now he was creeping on younger students. His reputation hadn’t improved. But just one more semester. Yu Jiha planned to enlist next year anyway.

A bitter laugh escaped him. Just hours ago, enlisting had been his biggest worry. Now he was fighting to stay alive, and it didn’t even feel real.

He gave his cheek a quick slap to shake off the gloom. For now, he had to focus on escaping safely. They hadn’t run into the other team that had taken the opposite staircase, but hopefully they were safe too.

They reached the third floor with caution. On the way, they passed two nurse grotesques, but bowed politely just like the manual said, and the grotesques let the awkward visitors pass without incident. If things kept going like this, they just might make it out.

The stairs on the opposite end finally came into view. Just as a wave of relief washed over them for making it through the third floor, a window connecting to a hospital room on the opposite side shattered with a crash—and a piercing laugh rang out. A grotesque had appeared.

「Smmmeeelllsss liikee aallllcchoool¿Bboooozzee¡boooozzee¡boooozzzeee¡」

 

1. Baekbaek-gyo (백백교 / 白白敎)

• What it is: A real and infamous pseudo-religious cult that existed during Korea’s Japanese colonial era (early 20th century). It became notorious for bizarre rituals and is often associated with murder, cannibalism, and extreme secrecy in urban legends and media portrayals.
• Why it matters: The cult’s name is invoked as a bluff to convince the grotesque that Yu Jiha is a fellow believer. This kind of reference would send a strong cultural shiver down a Korean reader’s spine but would likely be lost on non-Korean readers.
• Western equivalent: Maybe something like referencing a notorious cult like the Manson Family or Jonestown—but with even more ghost story-level urban legend flair.

2. Zhongshan suit (中山装 / 중산복)

• What it is: A traditional Chinese-style tunic suit associated with early 20th-century revolutionary figures (like Sun Yat-sen). In Korea, it’s often used in period dramas to depict officials or doctors from the Japanese occupation era.
• Why it matters: The grotesque’s clothing cues the reader to its time period, linking it to Japanese colonial rule in Korea, which adds to the tension and historical layering of the horror setting.