Goddess Bless You From Death

Case File 33.

Singha drove along a road lined with dense woods. There were no houses or people on either side, and even the streetlights flickered annoyingly. The rough road jostled him, indicating that not many people came this way.

[Singh, are you still there?]

"Yes."

[Officer Isoon has been in service for forty years. Initially stationed at Sisaket police station, he later married Miss Pannipa and moved to Kantharalak District to work there. They had two children: a son named Anuphap and a daughter named Phonprapat.]

"Anuphap?"

[Yes, the son frequently visited the district hospital. However, after he turned five, there has been no further record of him. The information vanished around twenty years ago. Especially for his wife and daughter, there are no financial, medical, or educational records at all.]

Singha parked in front of a house. His car's headlights were the only illumination as the tall trees blocked the area, even casting a shadow over the moonlight. The old wooden house, covered in vines, had no lights or signs of life but gave a feeling of being watched.

[It's strange that ever since Officer Isoon resigned, no records of the entire family have been found. It's like they... vanished.]

"Or else, they were erased."

[What do you mean?]

"Before that officer disappeared, he erased his records from the Kantharalak police station's database." Singha turned off the engine, stepped out, and opened the trunk to grab a flashlight he'd bought at a convenience store. "Contact the local police and tell them to come to the address I sent."

[What are you doing there?]

"This should be the origin of the case."

[Singh.. That's part of the graveyard area.]

His friend's warning made Singha pause and roll his eyes in annoyance.

"Not surprising."

[Li need to tell you something. I can't reach Sei. Actually, I'm unable to contact anyone at your station. I think-]

The line suddenly cut off. Singha looked down at his phone and found it dead. The red battery icon had been its last warning.

"Go ahead." Singha tossed his phone onto the car's hood, then shone his flashlight around the house to make sure no one was there.

The only sounds were his footsteps on the grass and leaves. It was so quiet that he could hear his own breathing. It was too calm, too quiet for a normal situation.

The moment his foot stepped onto the rotting wooden porch, the atmosphere shifted. A gust of wind roared, as though storm clouds were gathering. Crows and other animals shrieked, and the rustling leaves sounded like screams. Singha took the gun from his waist and held it in his hand. Even though he knew the real murderer probably wasn't here, whatever had been obstructing the case was likely not far away.

Every step on the creaky wooden floorboard echoed. Singha pushed the rickety wooden door open, releasing a cloud of dust that made him raise his arm to cover his nose. He swept the flashlight around, revealing a house that seemed perfectly intact, missing only its inhabitants. Furniture and even electrical appliances were still there.

Singha cautiously walked across the threshold, wary of destroying any evidence if this was indeed a crime scene.

Thump! Thump! Thump!!

The sound of running from the kitchen made Singha quickly point his flashlight, but only emptiness was evident.

"Luckily, that little brat isn't here," Singha muttered, thinking that if Thup were with him, that kid would be panicking. This was a two-story house made entirely of wood. No matter which way he walked, the creaking of the boards always followed. He approached a glass cabinet near the television and shone his flashlight inside. He saw photos of a boy and a girl: the boy sat in a wheelchair, while the girl, in sports attire, held a trophy from a relay race. Her face was beaming with happiness, unlike the boy, who looked weak and discontented. Below the photos were several academic achievement certificates.

"Anuphap. The same name..."

"P'Singha.'

Singha immediately turned toward the familiar voice of a young girl from his memory. Even though he knew it was impossible, his legs moved towards the sound without hesitation.

'Brother, sob!'

The voice and the sound of sobbing came from the stairs. Singha followed the sound, lowering his gun as the flashlight illuminated each step until he reached the top. The sound of running made him raise the flashlight and scan around, but all he found was emptiness.

'Brother, I'm scared! Sobb!'

"Maysa?"

Upstairs, there were four doors, with only one slightly open. Singha walked towards it without fear. As he pushed the door open, he encountered an unexpected sight. The stale, metallic scent of blood hit him immediately, causing Singha to wrinkle his nose. Khmer script was carved into the wooden floor in the centre of the room, with bloodstains splattered across the floor and walls. Skulls of both animals and humans were piled in a corner. On the altar were offerings of dried remains, clay figurines in various shapes, and a bundle wrapped in red cloth inscribed with sacred symbols. This altar was clearly dedicated to spirit worship rather than religious deities.

"Damn it." Singha shone his flashlight at the top of the altar and saw that it was a human skull with patches of long hair, indicating that it belonged to a specific gender.

“Because of you...I died."

The voice from behind made Singha clench his lips together. Stepping into this place had exposed the young inspector to its malevolent forces. In the domain of the spirits, the spirits reign supreme.

"Maysa," Singha said, knowing that the room was filled not just with dust but also with particles of bone ash from the red cloth, which seemed to drift into his intense, tiger-like eyes.

Singha saw a young girl standing by the door, barely reaching his thigh. She was looking down at the floor, her body soaked from head to toe, with water dripping from her hair. Her white dress caused Singha's hands to tremble.

'Will you stay with me? Please stay with me.'

Her pleading tone, so full of sorrow, made Singha bite his lower lip tightly. On that day, his sister also used the same tone with him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, May."

'Stay with me... Die with me!'

A rope fell from the rafters, landing right in front of Singha as if by intention, an invitation for the young inspector to sacrifice himself.

"P'Singh!!!" Thup jolted awake in his hospital room, drenched in sweat from the nightmare he had. What made him rip out his IV in a rush, forgetting the pain, was his uncertainty-he doubted if it was just a dream.

The young man got out of bed and looked around, trying to steady his thoughts before grabbing his phone to call his big brother.

[The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Ple-]

"P'Singh, where are you?" Thup anxiously hurried out of his room. Before he could get far, a hand grabbed his shoulder.

"Why are you out of bed?!"

"P'Charn, have you seen P'Singha? Where is he? Have you seen him?"

"That inspector? He said he had some business to attend to, but he asked for a map before he left."

"A map to where?!"

"To that abandoned house in the woods." It felt as though ice had gripped his heart. Thup brushed off Dr Charn's hand and ran aimlessly.

"Thup, wait! Where are you going? You just woke up!"

"Do you have a car?"

"What?"

"I asked if you have a car!!"

"Y-Yes! You're stressing me out, brat!"

"T-Take me there. Take me to P'Singh! Take me to that house!"

"Wait! Wait! You can't go now. You need a check-up first."

"No time. We need to go now, right now! P'Singh is in danger!!"

"F-Fine! But walk properly. Use the fire escape. Meet me at the parking lot to the right. Look for the black Mazda. Don't let the staff see you, or else they'll drag you back here."

Thup nodded vigorously before running toward the fire escape. Now, even if he saw the ghost of a woman with a severed arm standing at the corner of the stairs or an old man standing at the end of the exit, he couldn't stop. He now understood that it wasn't a dream. What he saw-P'Singh about to hang himself-was not a dream!!

The police station looked different today. The lights that should have been bright were completely dark, and there were no sounds of people bustling around as usual. King parked his car in front of the gate because it was locked. This shouldn't be happening. He jumped over the side wall to enter the station's premises. The silver gun gleamed as he held it in a standard position. He walked cautiously inside. 

The silence and the smell of blood made King even more cautious. When he reached the officer's desk, he found two policemen unconscious on the floor. Both had sharp weapon wounds on their legs, blood pooling beneath them, but they were still breathing. At this late hour, there wouldn't be many officers on duty. Since an ongoing operation was underway to catch the criminal, many were dispatched to intercept Uncle Kuen's car at various points, leaving the station with an insufficient number of guards.

The young investigator walked to the cell area, his flashlight scanning the rooms until he found one where a man in orange robes was sitting calmly. Hadn't Darin said the abbot had escaped?

"Abbot."

"What has happened, layman? Why is it so quiet here? Is the power out?"

"Raise both hands above your head so I can see them. Now!" The abbot sighed before raising both hands as instructed.

"I heard a woman's scream from somewhere, and there were crashing sounds too. Shouldn't you check it out?"

"Stay here." King hurried toward the forensic room. On the way, he saw Sergeant Prom lying unconscious and breathing heavily on the floor. The phones were useless as the power was cut, and his mobile phone was lost when he took Sei to the ambulance.

'Hee! Hee! Hee! It's Friday. Friday has arrived!' 

King stopped immediately upon hearing the high-pitched, eerie laughter. He was in the corridor leading to the forensic room, but before he could proceed, he had to get past the ghost of a woman standing in the middle of the path.

Bang!!

'Hee! Hee! Hee! More, more! Shoot more!' Bang! Bang!

The gun fired twice, aiming at the ghostly woman grinning with her long tongue out. King was as sceptical about the supernatural as Singha was.

'Shoot more! Shoot! Shoot!

Bang! Bang!

Darin jumped when she heard the gunshots from outside. She stood up and ran to the small window on the door, but saw only the empty corridor.

"It might be King."

"Don't go out. It's dangerous." Bom grabbed Darin's wrist.

"Then, what should we do? We don't know who fired those shots."

"'I'll go check it out myself."

"Wait! Wait! I'll try calling him." Darin pulled out her phone and dialled the last number, but the call went unanswered. "Why isn't he picking up?!"

"Then I'll sneak out to check," Bom said and immediately opened the door, ignoring any protests.

Darin paced back and forth anxiously. She kept looking outside until she heard two more gunshots. The door opened again, and Bom came back, panting.

"L-Let's go! It's really Mr King."

"Really!?"

"He shot the abbot! We're safe now!"

Darin felt relieved and hurried out of the room, unaware that the person behind her, once heavily breathing, was now silent.

"If we get out of here, we'll be safe. No one got captured, so it didn't succeed."

"The Friday-born has arrived. Just one day short."

Darin froze at the words from behind her. A chill ran down her spine, and her previously calm heart started racing again.

"W-What do you mean?"

"King," the low voice moved close to her ear, "was born on a Friday, wasn't he?"

'เอาชิ

'เอาชี

'เอาชิ

Out of the corner of her eye, Darin saw spirits slowly appearing behind Bom. The creepy smile made her pull away and start running for her life, except—

'Ooh...ooh..ooh...Shoo-bye, dear baby. Close your eyes and shoot to kill.

Bang!!

The final gunshot followed the eerie lullaby. The smoke from the gun barrel slowly faded, and the scene became clearer. The ghost tilted its head and smiled at King, baring its teeth. When it vanished, what remained was the blood dripping from the last bullet.

"Darin!!!!"