Seoul Metropolitan Police said they have confirmed the identities of nearly

all those killed in an apparent crowd surge at Seoul’s popular nightclub

district Itaewon on Saturday.

The identities of 150 people killed have been confirmed, police told CNN on
Sunday. The death toll from the disaster stands at 153.

The three bodies who have yet to be identified are all young women whose
nationalities have yet to be verified, they added.

The Seoul Metropolitan Government had said they had received 4,024
missing persons reports as of 5 p.m. local time (4 a.m. ET), though some of
these reports could relate to the same people.

Police said there is no active search for those reported missing as they
believe no one went missing from the scene. They said thousands of
missing person reports have been used to help identify those killed in the
incident.

Four Iranians among the dead: Four Iranians are among those killed in an
apparent crowd surge at the popular Seoul nightclub district Itaewon
Saturday night, Iran’s Embassy in Seoul confirmed, according to
the semiofficial Iran Student News Agency (ISNA).

Two of the deceased have been identified in Seoul hospitals and two are
located in hospitals outside of Seoul, the report said.
Bathed in an eerie light, Yaser al-Hazzazi paused to adjust the bloodstained gauze
wrapped around his head and face. His cousin Yahya leaned in to help, untangling
a loose end that dangled over his relative’s white robe — splotched with a bloody
handprint — before the pair strolled into a crowd of people decked out in devil
horns and bunny ears.

Growing up in Saudi Arabia, the two 21-year-old men had never celebrated
Halloween, which was variously viewed as a suspiciously pagan foreign holiday
— or as sinful, unnecessary and weird — in the conservative Islamic kingdom. As
recently as 2018, the police raided a Halloween party and arrested people,
sending costumed women clamoring to cover up and escape.

But this year, parts of Riyadh, the Saudi capital, looked like creatures from a
haunted house had escaped and taken over the city. Monsters, witches, bank
robbers and even sultry French maids were everywhere, leaning out of car
windows and lounging in cafes.

The scene was a stark — and a slightly spine-chilling — sign of the changes that
have torn through Saudi Arabia since Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, now
heir to the throne and prime minister, began rising to power in 2015 and started
doing away with social restrictions one by one.

And the cousins, along with thousands of other 20-somethings in Riyadh who had
rushed to get to the city’s costume shops before they sold out, were thrilled by the
chance to frighten each other.

“If we go back to the way we were, this wasn’t part of our customs and traditions,”
Yahya al-Hazzazi said, as spooky music played over loudspeakers at Boulevard
Riyadh City, a sprawling complex of shops, arcades and restaurants that opened
in 2019 as part of the government’s push to provide entertainment. “We love to
discover new things.”

Public Halloween celebrations began in the Saudi capital for the first time last
year.

This being Saudi Arabia, where strategic ambiguity reigns as social changes sweep
across the country, the government-sponsored event was not, strictly speaking, a
Halloween festival.
Instead, it was promoted as a “horror weekend,” conveniently coinciding with the
weekend before Halloween.

Like many of those swarming the entertainment complex on Thursday night —

jamming the surrounding neighborhood into gridlock and making any search for
parking in vain — the al-Hazzazi cousins wanted costumes that would attract
attention.

They threw together their makeshift mummy outfits using medical gauze they
bought at a pharmacy and improvised fake blood using Vimto, a sugary red drink
consumed during Ramadan, the Islamic holy month.

As they headed inside, red lights set a mysterious mood and decorative cobwebs
festooned the bushes. Men, women and children clogged a look-alike Times
Square, posing for photographs in front of a Dior logo and scarfing down fries at
McDonald’s.

In another part of the city, a line of wannabe ghouls and goblins stretched down
the block outside a party store selling so many Halloween costumes that
employees could barely restock them fast enough. House music thumped from
the shop’s entrance, guarded by a bouncer in a black suit.

Some of the revelers at Riyadh Boulevard City seemed to have only a vague idea
of what Halloween was, and had come simply to enjoy the atmosphere.

Abdulaziz al-Otaibi, 24, had orchestrated matching outfits with two friends,
draping themselves in shiny white fabric from head to toe, with purple-rimmed
sunglasses.

He seemed unsure when asked what he thought about Halloween — “You mean
these activities?” he said.

Regardless, he was having a grand time with his friends, hamming it up for
pictures.

“I was born in this life and I didn’t expect it to change, ever,” he said. “But it
changed, and it’s a good thing.”