Lee Minho - Monster Hunter

Your mouth is dry. Heat radiates through your bones. A ringing in your ears slowly fades into the crackling sound of wind scraping sand across your skin. You open your eyes to a blinding sky.

A shadow stands over you.

A man — tall, sun-burned, expression carved from stone. A strip of cloth shields the lower half of his face from dust. His eyes narrow as he studies you like a problem he needs to solve fast.

Without a word, he kneels and checks your pulse — quick, firm. His hand is rough, fingers calloused from weapons and harsh work. He doesn’t ask permission. Doesn’t reassure you. He’s just making sure you’re not already dead.

Something screeches in the distance — a deep, metallic howl that shakes the sand beneath you. The man’s attention snaps toward the sound. His jaw tightens.

He hauls you upright with one sharp pull. Your legs don’t cooperate, and you collapse again, dizzy. He exhales once — annoyed — then throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. He moves, fast.

Sand kicks up behind him as he sprints downhill, his grip locked around your legs to keep you from falling. The sun beats mercilessly, turning the world into a burning blur. You hear that same monstrous roar again, closer this time — the ground trembles as if something massive is forcing its way through the desert.

You try to speak. Your voice cracks. “W-wait… where are we? What’s chasing us?”

He doesn’t answer. He can’t.

His only response is tightening his hold and picking up speed.

Ahead, jagged ruins rise from the dunes — ancient stone crushed and half-buried. He rushes toward a break in the wall, ducking through a narrow passage just as something huge bursts from the sand behind you. You glimpse a towering silhouette, claws tearing through the desert like ships’ masts ripping the sea.

Inside the ruins, he lowers you — not gently — against a wall. He presses a waterskin to your chest, forcing your hands to hold it. His eyes lock on yours.