Goddess Bless You From Death

Case File 24.

"You'll have to find something to eat yourself," Singha said in his final words before walking out the door.

After returning home, they both went their separate ways to shower. Thup spent his time cleaning the house to avoid obsessing with the day's events, while Singha holed himself up in his study. It wasn't until evening that the older man came downstairs, dressed in a well-fitted black t-shirt and matching jeans.

With Singha gone, Thup, not knowing what to do, decided to pull out his drawing supplies from his condo and set them up at the living room table. He continued sketching from where he had left off. 

By now, he was sure there were only three ghosts attached to the doll. One was an older female ghost with white eyes and a mouth torn from ear to ear. Another was an eyeless girl, similar to what Darin had encountered. And the last...

A young woman with frayed red thread at her eyes and mouth, a ghost he had seen since childhood. Though he felt some fear, she had never harmed him. Why?

Singha had just parked his car and lit a cigarette, inhaling the nicotine deeply. His sharp eyes gazed at the towering condo with a blank expression before he lifted his phone to his ear.

"I'm here."

[Come up. I left the keycard at the front desk.]

King said before hanging up. Singha tossed the cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his foot. His irritation drove him to King's door in a few minutes. He knocked three times before it opened, revealing the tall detective in a white bathrobe.

"Get straight to the point."

"Come in first," King stepped aside to let Singha in.

"Be quick. I need to get back." Singha flopped onto the sofa, resting his feet on the coffee table and his arms on the backrest without a care.

"I'm going to shower first," King said, placing an ice-cold beer can against Singha's cheek before letting it fall onto his lap.

"How long are you going to stall?" The inspector opened the beer and took a calm sip.

"Until you act like you did when we were together."

"Do I need to remember something that far back?"

"Are you sure you don't remember?" King tilted Singha's chin up to look at him. "Or should I refresh your memory?"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Why wouldn't I?"

They stared each other down, neither willing to back down. King's face drew closer until their noses touched. Singha warned in a stern voice.

"I asked if you dare."

"I miss you," King's voice softened as he gently caressed Singha's chin.

"And what am I supposed to do with that?"

"Get back together with me."

Singha chuckled darkly, pushing King's face away.

"We were never together. What are you fantasising about?"

"But you liked me, and you know how I feel, Singha."

"What makes you think that?" Singha took another sip of his beer, looking out the large window that stretched from left to right along the walls with a bored expression.

"So you're saying it was just sex?" King stepped forward and stopped in front of the visitor. Singha, meanwhile, glanced up and asked him coldly. "Wasn't it?"

"Then let's just have sex today." King lunged forward, pinning Singha to the sofa, his eyes filled with disappointment as he kept staring at his former lover.

"Are you sure you want to keep being like this?"

"Yeah."

"It's annoying, you know?"

"And that kid isn't more annoying? He follows you around like a puppy." King nuzzled Singha's neck, hoping the man beneath him would reciprocate as he used to.

"Not really."

"How long do you plan to keep him around?" King's hand slipped under Singha's shirt, fingers gliding over familiar, well-defined muscles.

"Say what you need to say." Singha grabbed a cigarette and lighter from his pants pocket and lit it, indifferent to the kisses on his neck.

"Dad wants to offer a new position in the Department of Special Investigation."

Smoke filled the air, Singha's dark eyes hardening.

"In exchange for?"

"This case is a major ongoing one. Catching the culprit would be beneficial."

"Heh. Beneficial to whom? Me, you, or your father?" King left a love bite on Singha's neck before moving down to his stomach.

"We all benefit. Just let me handle this case."

"Is that all you wanted to say, King?"

"You still have a great body." King complimented Singha's physique.

"Do you want it?" The young inspector took a final drag of his cigarette, then flicked its butt to the floor. His eyes showed no emotion as he looked at King at his feet.

"Well, take it off."

"I meant, do you want my foot in your face?"

Singha kicked King in the chest, knocking him off balance and sending him backwards off the sofa, where he landed on the floor. Before he could get up, his bathrobe collar was yanked violently, followed by heavy punches to his left cheek, leaving it numb. King could hardly keep track of how many times he was hit.

"Singha!!!" Finding a brief opening, King kicked at the back of Singha's knee. He then pinned Singha down and threw a punch at his right cheek with full force.

"You're still the same! When there's a chance for gain, you don't care about anything else!" Singha countered with a punch, knocking King down. "Do you know why your apology means nothing today?"

Singha straddled King, raining down blow after blow. Blood flowed from the King's bruised cheek and split lip before Singha finally stopped.

"Because you didn't make any attempts to apologise back then!" The thick hands let go of King's collar. Singha stood up, looking down at the guy lying on the floor with an iciness colder than ever.

As Singha was about to walk past him, King grabbed his ankle. "If I had apologised then... would I still have lost?" Singha didn't answer, just shook off King's hand and walked away without looking back.

The sound of the door closing made King slowly shut his eyes. He knew Singha well. Memories flooded back, making him laugh bitterly. If he hadn't done it back then, he'd still have the man who was just walking out beside him.

'King, just tell them I didn't do it!' Singha was handcuffed to the table, as he'd raged after finding out.

'Yes, he mistakenly arrested the wrong person, letting the real culprit escape.”

'King!!'

'And about shooting the officer?

‘He missed,' King avoided Singha's eyes. It wasn't anger or resentment he saw, but disappointment. Since then, their relationship had shattered beyond repair.

Thup took a break from drawing and headed to the kitchen to make a simple dinner to eat in front of the TV. Though a cooking show played, he couldn't focus, glancing at the clock repeatedly. The hour hand pointed to nine, but there was still no sign of Singha.

"Should I call?" Thup muttered to himself.

Nearly twenty minutes later, while he was washing dishes, the sound of a car outside alarmed his heart to race. He quickly dried his hands and ran to the door. But his smile faded when he opened it.

"P'Singh, why-"

"Why aren't you in bed?"

"What happened to your face?" Thup unconsciously raised his hand to touch Singha's face, gently brushing the bruised and cut corner of his mouth with his thumb.

"Just a small issue." Singha lightly pushed Thup's hand away and headed upstairs without another word. As he was changing into his pyjamas, the door opened, and Thup poked his head in.

"P'Singh, can I come in?"

"Yeah." Singha took off his shirt and wrapped a towel around his waist to change his pants. "What's that?"

"

...Let me put some ointment on."

Thup, standing at the door, avoided looking at Singha until he was properly dressed. He still wasn't used to seeing Singha's bare torso.

"Why bother? It's just a scratch." Seeing that the homeowner had sat down on the bed, Thup walked over and sat on the floor in front of the young inspector.

"A scratch is still a wound." As he prepared the ointment, Thup noticed a faint red mark on Singha's neck, blushing slightly, but his eye saddened—so did his heart. 

"You couldn't talk things out with Mr King?

"No," Singha answered curtly, letting Thup apply the ointment while he picked up his glasses to continue reading the documents.

"I should have gone with you."

"What could you have done? Take care of yourself first." Singha glanced at Thup before lightly tapping his head with a rolled-up paper.

"You can train me. Then I can help you."

"Train you? A weak douchebag like you?"

Thup sat cross-legged on the floor and began massaging Singha's legs while they talked. "I used to work out. I'm not that weak."

"You should focus on fighting ghosts instead." Thup shook his head vehemently.

"I can't handle that yet."

"Then why try to help me?"

"Even if I can't help much, I still want to. Like today, breaking down the door to help you." Thup said softly while looking up at the person sitting on the bed. He hugged Singha's leg and rested his chin on the knee under the black sweatpants.

"Really wanna help?"

"Yes.

"Then give me a proper massage. I'm going to sleep." Singha put his glasses and documents away, lying face down on the bed. Today, he had used up all his brain and physical energy; he was too lazy to do anything.

"I'm great at massages. Even Luang Pu praised me." Thup eagerly climbed onto the bed, proudly presenting his skills to his big brother.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Excuse me." The young man spoke with sparkling eyes. His heart pounded so hard that he had to raise a hand to steady it and take a deep breath. Once he calmed down, he placed his hand on the beautiful, tan back and began to press gently along the muscles.

"Harder."

Thup increased the pressure, noticing the scattered bruises on Singha's body and gently brushing over them.

"Tell me if you're sore anywhere."

“Just keep massaging me.”

"P'Singh."

"Hmm?"

"Why did you become a cop?"

"..Because of my mother."

"Did she want you to be one?"

"No, I just wanted to help."

Thup didn't press further, sensing Singha's reluctance to give him a direct answer.

"Is your job hard? What do you usually do?"

"As you've seen, I handle cases daily. Some are easy, some are tough. Hey! Harder there."

Thup glanced down at the part he was massaging, his beautiful eyes blinking rapidly before he looked away at the wall. 'Singh's lower waist was incredibly attractive.

"Th-Then do you get any rest at all? I see you work all the time."

"How could I rest? Every day is just full of problems."

"You must be really tired."

"Yeah."

"Please take a rest." Thup stopped chatting to let the older man relax as he should. He continued massaging for nearly an hour, until he heard the steady breathing of the man lying face down. Once he was sure that Singha was asleep, Thup stopped and covered him with a blanket.

"Goodnight, P'Singha."

The young man went downstairs to tidy up a bit before taking a shower. He turned off the lights and prepared to go to bed. When he saw that the older man was sound asleep, a smile spread across his face.

He was well aware of the strain Singha endured every day. Even though Singha never complained, Thup often noticed him stretching to relieve muscle tension or massaging his temples. It wasn't expressed verbally, but his body showed it more clearly.

Thup lay down on the bed, facing the older man with a look of concern. He could easily choose not to care or even leave, but this person had brought him here. Knowing that he could see ghosts, Singha helped him to avoid them. Despite often scolding him, he never disregarded Thup's fears. Thup reached out to gently brush a strand of black hair from Singha's handsome face.

"I'll try harder on my part so you won't be so tired." Thup placed his hand on the back of Singha's hand before slowly closing his eyes to sleep. "I promise."

After about twenty minutes, the sharp eyes that had been completely shut opened. Singha looked at Thup's flawless face, with well-shaped eyebrows framing long lashes, a high nose, and small, cupid's bow lips. No matter how he looked at him, this kid seemed like a mixed-race child, either on his father's or mother's side. It was a pity there was no record of it. Singha glanced at the hand resting on his before gently moving it away so as not to wake the boy. He turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling for almost ten minutes. He heard all the things the boy had said, and they kept echoing in his mind.

Singha decided to get out of bed and walk to the balcony. He pulled out a menthol cigarette and lit it, then picked up his phone to call his close friend, unsure if he would still be awake.

[Hey]

"Where are you?"

[At the lab. Why? Are you calling to collect King's corpse?]

"It's just a scratch; he won't die from it."

[So what did he call you to talk about?]

"He wants to take this case for himself," Singha exhaled a puff of white smoke into the night sky. "To gain favour for his dad, too."

[Ha! Let him try. It'd be great if he took the ghosts along with it. Sei! I told you not to talk like that!]

Darin's shouting on the other end made Singha chuckle.

"Rin's not going home?"

[Nah, she said she wouldn't stay alone, so she's burdening me instead.  Want to freak out by a ghost too?!!]

"Take care of yourselves."

[So, where are you?]

"At home."

[Wow, Singha is a homebody now. But who knows if he's stuck to the house or the person in it.]

"How about my foot stuck to your face? Let me talk to Rin." Singha was used to the bickering between the two. They always fought like this.

[What's up, Inspector?]

"Do you know any shops that sell sacred objects?"

[Don't tell me you're scared of ghosts now! See? I told you not to disrespect them!]

"It's not for me. It's for Thup."

[Why give it to him? Didn't you say he doesn't see ghosts when he's near you?]

"I can't let him cling to me like this all the time. What happened today is an example."

[What happened? What's going on?]

Singha began recounting the day's events to the person on the other end while extinguishing his cigarette in an ashtray.

[Holy crap, ghosts sure have a lot of tricks. Why do they want Thup so badly?]

"I don't know ei-" Singha paused, turning to look at the boy sleeping on the bed. 

"Thup once said that a female ghost was following him, like she wanted something."

[Singh... Do you think what the ghost wants now is someone's life?]

"Tuesday, Wednesday," Singha murmured to himself.

[What are you saying?]

"Thup was born on Saturday."

[And so?]

"Have the remaining days been chosen, or are they already dead?"

[What are you talking about, Singh? It's giving me chills.]

"Rin, go ask the kids in the infirmary what day those two were born."

[Now?]

"Yeah, let me know once you find out."

[Sei, get up. Let's go together.]

After ending the call, Singha walked back into the room. He approached the bed and playfully flicked Thup's bangs.

"Ugh."

"Troublemaker."

The phone in his hand then buzzed, drawing his attention to a message. Singha sighed as he read the information.

DARIN: Bom was born on Friday. Dear was born on Monday.

SINGHA: What about the other one? The one who went home?

DARIN: Song was born on Sunday.

SINGHA: Ask Lieutenant Khem to contact him and see if that kid has reached home yet.

Sunday - Song

Monday - Dear

Tuesday - Jump

Wednesday - Darin

Friday - Bom

Saturday - Thup

Only Thursday was left. If this were a new selection, it meant the killer's victim list was almost complete. They needed to act, or they might have already started.