Mysterious Awakening

“I trust you’re both aware of the circumstances we face. Coral’s condition is unlikely to improve. As an outsider looking in, I would advise you to brace yourselves for what seems to be inevitable,” began Miles.

As he concluded, their car drew to a halt in a busy part of the city.

Exiting the vehicle, they situated themselves at a nearby seating area, reflecting on their earlier conversation.

“How can you utter such words?” Mrs. Ocean retorted, anger edging her voice. “Is there no method to erase the mark?”

“Whether we erase the mark or substitute it with another, the results remain grim,” Miles said. “I realize my words may sound harsh, but they summarize the reality of the situation, don’t they, Mr. Beach?”

Puffing on his cigarette, Mr. Beach frowned. As the father of the family, he felt lost and overwhelmed, his expression etched with worry.

He grasped Miles’ implication. Without erasing the mark, the ghost child would relentlessly pursue Coral. Even if they decided to erase it, a replacement would only serve to delay the inevitable without changing the final outcome.

“Dad, Mom, it’s alright. I’m beyond salvation. Let me face this ghost child by myself. I don’t want to be the cause of your suffering,” Coral said, her voice choked with tears.

She had accepted her fate, and her initial fear now significantly diminished.

Her declaration devastated her mother, Mrs. Ocean, who broke down in tears as the pair wept together.

“No, this is not acceptable. How can I stand idly by as my daughter is tormented by that entity?” Mr. Beach tossed his cigarette away, rising determinedly. “Young man, if I consent to replacing Coral’s mark, do you have a possible solution?”

Miles answered, “There is a solution, but it won’t substantially improve the outcome. It merely postpones the inevitable. ‘Quenching thirst with poison’ might be an apt analogy.”

“If we don’t erase the mark, Coral will survive less than three days, correct?” Mr. Beach inquired.

“Actually, she might not survive the day,” Miles admitted. “The only reason Coral wasn’t attacked earlier was that the mark on her hand remained visible. The ghost child refrained from attacking her then, but now that the mark has faded, I anticipate its return within the hour, maybe even sooner.”

“And if we do erase the mark?” Mr. Beach probed.

Miles elaborated, “If she’s tethered to a ghost tamer, she could possibly have a few months. The situation would be slightly improved, but the end result is the same. Also, I can’t guarantee there won’t be additional side effects.”

“We must take the bitter with the sweet. We can’t give up, even if hope seems faint,” Mr. Beach resolved, gritting his teeth. “Young man, I implore you to assist us. I’ll compensate you, just name your fee.”

Observing the moving scene of Coral and her mother crying together, Miles heaved a long sigh and began, “Understand that this is not a supernatural ordeal, nor are we grappling with malevolent spirits. Hence, the risk is minimal. Considering the previous arrangement, I’ll lend my assistance without charge this time. However, I must stress that I can’t promise a specific outcome should Coral’s condition change or complications arise.”

“Your words are enough, thank you. I’ll shoulder all consequences. Even if anything unfavorable occurs to Coral, the blame won’t fall on you,” said Mr. Beach, taking a deep breath.

His determined demeanor and bravery were hallmarks of his success, a vivid contrast to Mrs. Ocean’s maternal worries and careful considerations.

“In that case, we should proceed without delay. The ghost child may be approaching,” Miles suggested.

“Coral, come here,” Mr. Beach summoned.

Coral raised her tear-streaked gaze to Mr. Beach and Miles.

“Coral, if you’ve made up your mind, extend your hand towards me,” instructed Miles.

“Go on, Coral. We’ll confront the future as it unfolds. For now, we must surmount this obstacle,” said Mr. Beach, his face etched with concern. He was uncertain whether his decision that day was rescuing or damning his daughter.

“Miles, thank you,” said Coral, her voice trembling as she offered her hand.

She yearned to survive, not to fall victim to such a terrifying entity.

“We’re merely classmates, besides, I am being compensated,” Miles responded, taking her wrist as he had during their school days. “Remove the bandage on your neck. I need to observe the mark.”

Wordlessly, Mrs. Ocean started to unravel the bandage. Coral’s delicate neck was raw and inflamed, smeared with medicine, but at the heart of the wound, two distinct, dark handprints were visible.

Miles’ eyes hardened as he recalled his previous actions. Holding Coral’s hand, an eye emerged from the split in his palm, seeping into the girl’s skin towards the mark on the neck.

“It… it’s working!” exclaimed Mr. Beach, his eyes wide in astonishment at the extraordinary scene unfolding before him.

Indeed, it was.

Miles could sense the presence of the ghost eye within Coral. It felt as though an eye had been implanted in her, but it also felt like a portion of the ghost’s power had lingered within her.

Soon, the two dark handprints on Coral’s neck completely vanished.

Miles then released her hand – a distinct ghost eye mark appeared on her wrist, resembling a red eye tattoo. It was rather conspicuous and emitted a faint red glow.

“It’s gone. The handprints have truly disappeared.”

“Coral, how are you feeling? Are you alright?”

Mr. Beach and his wife couldn’t contain their excitement.

“I feel… okay, better than before, actually. It’s a peculiar sensation but hard to articulate,” Coral said after contemplating for a moment. She looked again at the eye on her wrist, her expression altered, different yet inexplicably so.

“That’s splendid news,” Mrs. Ocean rejoiced, holding her daughter in a tight embrace, her joy palpable.

Meanwhile, Miles took a moment to examine his own physical state. Although there were no drastic changes, he did feel a subtle depletion of energy, as if he’d overexerted himself.

“Only those who can manipulate the ghost domain possess the power to command ghost servants. It’s unclear how a living person’s ghost servant might differ from that of a malevolent ghost, but Coral will certainly be no ordinary person. However, any such changes can only be tracked over time,” Miles mused.

As he eradicated the mark, a peculiar scene unfolded on a nearby street. A bizarre child with a blue-black hue sprinted uncannily fast in Coral’s direction using all four limbs.

“Did you spot that odd child darting over there?” a passerby questioned, taken aback by the strange sight.

His companion responded dismissively, “What child? You’re probably just imagining things.”

However, the ghost child abruptly came to a standstill, not progressing much further. With the mark now absent, it had lost its main target. Devoid of a specified target, it would randomly select bystanders on this road and embark on a reckless rampage.

“Damn, I bumped into something,” a young man walking by exclaimed, nearly tripping over the ghost child while engrossed in his phone. Upon looking back, however, he found nothing out of the ordinary.

As he turned back to continue on his path, he found himself rooted to the spot. Before him stood a nude, bluish-black child with a contorted head and a pair of hauntingly expressive eyes.

The young man eyed the ghost child curiously. Assuming the child might be a vagrant or mentally disturbed, he decided to circumvent any potential trouble and skirted around it to continue on his way.

Yet, he hadn’t gone far when the ghost child stirred again. Instead of resuming its pursuit of Coral, it trailed the young man. The horror hadn’t ceased; it had merely redirected its attention to a new victim.