NOVEL NEXT – Chapter 28
As dawn broke, the cold morning air seeped in. Even though it was spring, the mountain village’s dawn still carried the chill of winter. The wind coming through the old window frame brushed against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Caw, caw—”
The sound of crows echoed through the quiet morning air, slicing through the silence. Their ominous cries reverberated in the darkness, as if warning of something sinister.
I blinked, and suddenly the sun was rising. The dim morning light filtered through the window, casting a faint glow in the room. The shadow of an old wardrobe stretched eerily across the wall.
Rubbing my eyes, I checked my watch—it was 5 a.m. The ticking of the second hand broke the silence.
“Maybe I should’ve just stayed awake.”
After tossing and turning all night, I finally fell asleep, only to wake up feeling even more exhausted. A sense of fatigue, like the aftermath of a nightmare, enveloped my entire body.
My pillow was damp with cold sweat, and the blanket had been kicked to the foot of the bed. The terror from yesterday was still vivid. I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me in the dark.
Especially the image of that disheveled woman from my dream kept resurfacing. Her pale face peeking through her black hair, her dark, bottomless eye sockets, and that eerie Japanese song and question kept swirling in my mind.
“Kagome, kagome…”
Recalling the song that had echoed in my ears, I felt a chill run down my spine. It felt as if someone was whispering right next to my ear, sending shivers all over my body.
But I decided to push those thoughts aside for now. There were more pressing matters at hand.
During the sleepless dawn, I had thought of something. I got out of bed and headed for the bag in the corner. The bag emitted a mix of spices and medicinal herbs. I pulled out a wooden box containing “Explorer Jang Geon’s Tracking Incense.”
Opening the box, a strong scent hit my nose. When I first used it in the Back Room, there were over twenty sticks, but now only about ten remained.
I hesitated, wondering if I should use it now, but there didn’t seem to be any other options.
“Jeong Woo, what’s that?”
I looked up at Kang Hana’s voice. She was sitting in the corner with a blanket over her lap. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who had a restless night.
Dark circles hung under her eyes, and her usual neat appearance was nowhere to be seen. Her clothes were wrinkled, and her hair was disheveled. Her pale face looked even whiter in the morning light.
“It’s tracking incense. I bought it from FamilyNet.”
I answered briefly and took out the incense. The rustling of the paper echoed in the silent room. Just as I was about to explain that it was a special tool for finding things, Moon Jinwook chimed in.
“FamilyNet sells stuff like that?”
Moon Jinwook’s voice was laced with doubt and fatigue. The relaxed demeanor he usually displayed was gone. His fingers trembled slightly as he fiddled with his watch. The tension from last night seemed to have worn him out.
“Is that really important right now?”
I asked, frustrated. I shot him a sharp look, and he awkwardly turned his head away.
“So, what are you planning to do with that?”
He asked again, this time with a hint of anxiety in his voice.
“I’m going to find the letters left by Deputy Lee Seongho.”
I explained as I lit the incense. The sound of a match striking followed by a flame. Smoke rose faintly, and soon the heavy scent filled the room.
Thinking of what I wanted to find, I turned the incense clockwise three times. After a moment, the smoke began to flow northeast. It was as if an invisible hand was pulling the smoke, guiding it steadily in one direction.
“There it is.”
We followed the direction of the smoke. Morning mist clung to our ankles, and wet grass soaked our shoes. The morning air was still cold, and our breath formed white clouds with each exhale.
The village was still silent. Only the occasional bird song broke the quiet. Lights were on in the windows, but there was no sign of people.
The first letter was found in the ceiling of the village hall’s second floor. It was carefully hidden between old rafters. Moon Jinwook held a rusty ladder while I climbed up and carefully retrieved it. The dusty paper rustled.
The second was found in a crack by the well. Moving aside a moss-covered stone, we found a plastic-wrapped letter underneath. The smell of earth and damp mold rose up. Something black seemed to move in the well, but I didn’t look too closely.
The third was found in a closet in an abandoned house. As the door opened, accumulated dust poured out like a waterfall.
“Here it is.”
I pulled the letter from deep inside the closet. It was hidden among old clothes. The closet door creaked as it closed.
I slowly read the handwritten words, piecing together the content. The handwriting grew increasingly erratic. The last page was almost illegible.
It seemed like it was written in a hurry, as if someone was being chased. The smudged ink looked like tear stains.
Summarizing, it went something like this:
– S Village has existed since the late Joseon Dynasty.
– It wasn’t a village with strange phenomena from the beginning.
– Everything is connected to the shaman living in the north.
After reading the letter, I looked up. Cheon Seungsoo, Moon Jinwook, and Kang Hana were also reading over my shoulder. The same question crossed their faces.
In the end, it meant we had to go to the northern shrine.
“Looks like we’ll have to visit the northern shaman’s house.”
Cheon Seungsoo muttered. His voice, usually calm, was now laced with tension.
Team 3 and the D-class personnel all nodded. After yesterday’s incident, the D-class personnel in orange jumpsuits looked pale. Their eyes showed a clear sense of resignation.
We headed north. As we walked, the fog grew thicker. The sound of our footsteps was the only thing breaking the morning silence.
The shrine at the edge of the village emerged faintly from the fog. The old tiled roof and faded paint came into view. Wind chimes hanging from the eaves swayed in the wind, producing a clear sound.
Then it happened.
“Saba sekai, Nansen Fushu, Kaitō Chōsen, Daikan Minkoku, Gangwon Dora Niku-kan-gun o tsukamaete ■■-kun de men o tsukande ■■-men desu…”
The shaman’s chanting in Japanese echoed through the air. It felt like a snake slithering up my body. The sound of ritual instruments accompanied the chant, creating an eerie atmosphere.
As we opened the door and entered, a shocking scene unfolded before our eyes.
The villagers were all bowing in front of the ritual altar. Kneeling, touching their foreheads to the ground, then standing up again. Their eyes looked vacant, and strange smiles were plastered on their faces.
In front of them was an empty coffin and a blank memorial photo. Incense smoke rose in thin wisps.
And there, a young shaman in Japanese ritual attire was dancing and performing the ritual. Her pure white robes fluttered with her movements. With each ring of the bell, her body seemed to float slightly in the air.
The first thing that caught my eye was the shaman’s mouth. The corners of her lips were stretched unnaturally wide, as if they could reach her ears. The eerie smile sent chills down my spine.
Looking at her, I was reminded of the face I saw in my dream last night. The pale skin, sunken eye sockets, and that grotesque smile.
Suddenly, one of the D-class personnel began muttering madly. His voice was filled with terror. His orange jumpsuit shook as his shoulders trembled. His teeth chattered as if he were freezing in the middle of winter.
“I was wrong, I was wrong, I was wrong, I was wrong…”
At that moment, like a domino effect, one of the Team 3 members fainted.
Then, the villagers began to collapse one by one. The people bowing fell forward. Like puppets with their strings cut, they all fell to the ground. The ritual site turned into chaos in an instant.
The Team 3 leader, as if realizing something, frantically rummaged through the bag he had brought, and Cheon Seungsoo did the same.
What Cheon Seungsoo pulled out was a flask labeled “Palak Sword (八握剣).”
“If you see ‘it,’ open this and stab it.”
His voice was unusually urgent. He looked as if he had seen something, but I still couldn’t see anything. Yet, I instinctively knew I would soon.
Then it happened.
The empty coffin caught my eye. The disheveled woman from my dream was rising from it.
Her long, dripping black hair, the white ritual robe clinging to her wet body, and that eerie smile—it was exactly as I had seen in my dream.
‘A Japanese-speaking ghost, a shaman in Japanese attire, a god who smiles differently…’
At that moment, the puzzle pieces in my mind began to fall into place.
‘The god who smiles differently, in Chinese characters, is Isoshin (異笑神)…’
In Japanese, it’s Iengami (イエンガミ).
I finally realized the true identity of the horror story.