Goddess Bless You From Death

Case File 34.

Darin's body collapsed to the ground just as Bom followed her out. He shook his head and looked at Darin, who was breathing heavily, with his empty eyes. There was neither sympathy nor pity, only emptiness and a lack of emotion found in his gaze.

"Darin!" King ran in and knelt, quickly taking off his suit jacket to press against Darin's stomach wound to stop the bleeding.

"Hugh He's..."

"What is it? What are you trying to say?" King was frantic as he saw the blood.

"Hugh He's..."

"Well, I think she's trying to say that I'm the murderer."

Bom's words made the young detective immediately point his gun at him. "Are you going to shoot again? You might accidentally hit someone else once more, you know."

"Step back!" King laid Darin down before aiming his gun at the seemingly innocent young man. Bom raised his hands above his head in a gesture of surrender, but the smile on his face showed no remorse.

"You're under arrest for murder and assaulting an officer!"

"Huh, do you know what's the most fun?" Bom smiled at King without fear, despite the gun aimed at his face.

"It's when everything goes just as planned."

"I don't care what you say, and I'm not afraid of your ghosts or whatever! Turn around and put your hands behind your back! No tricks!"

"Not afraid? If you weren't afraid, that bullet wouldn't have missed someone."

"I said turn around!!" King glanced at Darin lying on the ground. Bom chuckled as if he found it amusing. He did as he was told, turning to face the wall.

"People born on Fridays are said to have strong minds, courage, and composure. The old man before you was just like you."

King paused as he was about to handcuff Bom. The previous victim, born on a Friday... was Mr Tee. "But just seeing his dead wife made him crawl like a dog. You should have witnessed him babbling frantically, pleading for his wife's return. HAHAHA!"

"Shut up!" One side of the handcuffs was fastened tightly. But as he was about to secure the other side, a voice behind him made him stop.

"King.”

"For that old man, his wife seemed to be the most desirable thing. What about you? Your job, money, position, power... or your loved one?"

"Singha." Singha stood in front of him, holding a gun. The voice calling him showed no anger, disappointment, or coldness. It was the Singha who still loved and obeyed him as before. Yes... That was a thing of the past. Their relationship was over. King locked the other cuff on Bom's wrist before turning back. "Go play with the ghosts in jail!"

"HAHAHA! Not falling for it, huh? Do you think the other one won't fall for it too?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know where the first ritual took place? Summoning spirits is really hard, especially vengeful ones. That's why you need more sacrifices. My dad almost didn't make it because there were so many horrible spirits there. Anyone who accidentally enters will have a hard time." Bom turned to look at the person behind him. His eyes sparkled again, enjoying the game of playing with others' emotions. "I'll give you a hint.. Sisaket."

King's eyes widened as he realised that the hint referred to Singha. Just as he was thinking of how to contact his former lover, a shadow passed behind him, causing him to turn. But it was too late.

!!!

The sound of metal hitting flesh echoed throughout the area, followed by the sound of a young man falling to the ground with red liquid flowing from his head, spreading all over. Lowly spirits pounced on the blood, licking it greedily.

"Ha, my dad is still as strong as ever."

"Stop fooling around. Finish it quickly. We need to perform the ritual tomorrow."

"I know, I know. We still have to wait for that kid anyway." The wrinkled hand pulled out a key from King's pocket and unlocked the handcuffs on Bom. "Why not use someone else? There are plenty of Saturday-borns."

"That kid... A spirit is attached to him. I need it."

"Just a kid who can see ghosts."

"He can extend your life."

"This time, it's not for me." Bom used his tongue to push his cheek before dragging the unconscious Darin and King towards the parking lot.

"This time, it's for you."

Thup was sitting in the car, agitated. He squinted at the road ahead, scared of what he might see along the way but still eager to know when he would arrive.

"Why are you so anxious? Sit properly."

"Can you drive faster, please?"

“There are no streetlights, and we're unfamiliar with the road. If I speed up, we might overshoot a curve and end up sleeping off the road," Charn responded, but increased the speed a little, seeing that the boy next to him had been restless the whole way. "So, you're saying that the cop is in danger. Danger from what?"

"From.." Thup hesitated. If he said that the spirits would lure Singha to commit suicide, the person next to him might turn the car around and claim him ridiculous. 

"From a murderer! There's a murderer in that house!"

"What!? How did you know?"

"I just know. Please make a quick turn here. Quick! Quick! It's here!" Thup directed, spotting spirits all along the way. But once they turned into the forest, everything became quiet. He saw no spirits, which was strange for an area known to be a graveyard. It was either a peaceful place or something scarier was keeping the spirits away. People, too, avoided this place.

When the car stopped in front of the house, both felt a shiver run down their spines. Goosebumps rose, and a chill went down their backs, signalling them to retreat and never return.

"How could it become even scarier than before?" said Charn, rubbing his arms.

"That's P'Singh's car!" Thup pointed to the car parked in front, swallowing hard. Before he could step out of the car, he saw white eyes staring back at him with a chilling smile. It was waiting for him. It had been waiting for him! "You can wait here if you want."

"You don't have to tell me. I wasn't planning on getting out anyway!"

Thup took a deep breath to muster his courage, though he had little left. No matter what he encountered or saw, his goal was to save Singha. Just as Thup was about to open the car door, Charn grabbed his shoulder.

"Well... I don't know what's going on, but Uncle Chai told me to give you this." 

Charn handed him a simple amulet necklace. The necklace was just a jet-black cord. No silver nor golden frame or anything extravagant. It was just a plain clay amulet, encased in a clear frame. Thup recognised it instantly; it looked like the one he had worn before it went missing.

"Uncle said Luang Pu left it for you. He told us to give it to you on a holy day. He forgot to do so when leaving home, so he asked me to hand it over."

"Thank you," Thup took the necklace, recited the holy summoning chant, and wore it around his neck.

"Sappae Buddha, sappae Dhamma, sappae Sangka

Phalappatta, Paccekan jayangphalang

Arahantanan chatejena, rakkhang bandami sabbaso

Buddhang adhitthami, Dhammamg adhitthami, Sanghang adhitthami "

Thup stepped out of the car and walked into the house with determination. His heart was racing, but he couldn't turn back now. If he retreated, he would be the next ghost.

Inside the house, it was quiet, with only dust floating in the air from long disuse. Thup used the car's headlights for navigation, since he had nothing else with him.

"P'Singh! P'Singh, where are you?!" Thup called out, scanning the surroundings. He caught sight of a ghostly woman with white eyes and a chilling smile. "What have you done? What have you done to him?"

‘Die! The Yaksha must die!'

"Because you can't touch him, you want him to kill himself, right?" Saturday!'

"No, the Saturday child you want is me, not him."

'Hee! Hee! Hee!'

"You're not Mae Sue. You're not Mrs Chaba. You're just a vengeful spirit summoned here. Taking others' lives doesn't make you a god. Neither does your master."

Keezzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!'

The ghost's scream shook the house, forcing Thup to cover his ears. The playful demeanour vanished, replaced by rage. Her eyes almost bulged. The middle-aged woman's face gradually distorted grotesquely, revealing deep gashes with crimson blood dripping onto the floor. Her limbs twisted unnaturally, creating a horrifying sight that Thup could hardly bear to look at.

‘I'm going to kill you! I'm going to kill you! I'm going to kill you!'

She lunged at Thup just as he started running up the stairs.

[The chant for inviting the Buddha into oneself, also known as the chant for transferring merit and adjusting realms, is a Buddhist prayer recited to welcome the sacred presence of the Buddha within. This practice is believed to offer protection and bring peace to the person who chants it!]

The sound of crawling followed, and when he looked back, he saw her twisted hand reaching for his ankle. Her sharp nails dug into his flesh, causing him to bite his lip in pain. He struggled to climb to the top floor but was held back, unable to move. He recited every prayer he knew to dispel the ghost, but nothing seemed to work.

'Mommy... Can I eat him now?'

Thup looked up at the girl sitting at the top of the stairs, her legs swinging. Her body had transformed, burned from head to toe. Her skin cracked open, revealing red flesh contrasting with the charred black epidermis. Her eyes were still hollow, just as he had seen before, but now she was tossing a pair of eyeballs back and forth like toys.

That face looked down at Thup before breaking into a laugh. If he didn't get out now, he would really die here.

"Help me. Ugh, please help me."

The pain in his ankle disappeared, giving Thup his freedom back. He turned to look and saw a female ghost blocking the ghost below from getting to him.

"Th- Thank you." Thup turned back to look upstairs. When he saw only emptiness, he quickly crawled up. "P'Singh! P'Singha!"

The young man struggled to stand up and opened the nearest door. The pain in both his ankle and his bandaged hand, now seeping blood, made Thup want to cry. He had never felt such pain, never faced ghosts like this, and never confronted 'her' like this.

"P'Si-P'Singh!" Thup hobbled to the farthest room. He saw Singha sitting on the floor, holding a rope, his sharp face expressionless.

"P'Singh, are you okay?!"

"I used to have a sister."

"What?"

"I used to have a sister. Her name is Maysa."

"No matter what you see, it's not real! It doesn't exist! Can you hear me?!" Thup cupped Singha's face, trying to bring him back to reality.

Singha had never been afraid of ghosts or death, but this time he was facing memories and inner conflicts, not just spirits. It was no surprise he was shaken. 

"P'Singh, we have to get out of here. Can you get up?"

"My sister died because of me."

Thup gently rubbed Singha's jawline with his thumb before remembering something. He took off his amulet necklace and carefully placed it around Singha's neck.

"If she were your sister, she wouldn't blame you. She would help you, whether alive or not." Singha looked into Thup's brown eyes, wondering when this once timid boy, who was always ready to cry, had become so determined.

Bang!! Bang!! Bang!!

Doors and windows slammed shut and opened loudly, though the iron fixtures should have rusted away long ago.

"Why did you come?"

"If not you, who else would save me from the ghosts?" Thup smiled when he saw the spark return to Singha's eyes.

"Stay together or wait in the car? I have things to check." Singha stood up, slinging the thick rope over his shoulder.

"Stay together." Thup looked at Singha and reached out to hold his hand. Despite the pain from his wounds, it was better than letting one of them disappear again.

As they stepped out of the room, the chaos and screams in the house fell silent. Thup glanced at Singha and tightened his grip.

"The ghosts I saw aren't Mrs Chaba and her daughter."

"What do you mean? The picture you drew...

"She and her daughter were the first victims here, killed by her husband, who summoned ghost spirits to possess them."

"If they were spirits, why possess other ghosts?" Singha said, shining his flashlight down the stairs. Seeing the bloodstains, he glanced at Thup's wounded leg and tightened his grip on the young man's hand.

"She's an ancient, vengeful spirit, consuming offerings and the lives of those who practice black magic. When the practitioner dies, she waits for someone else to perform the summoning ritual again and again. She possesses other spirits because she's a Khmer ghost. In Cambodia, the bones are not collected for further rituals after cremation. Without a host, she wouldn't have such power."

"What happened next?" Singha asked as they reached the ground floor and walked into the kitchen. The dining table with four wooden chairs made him shake his head slightly. This should have been a simple, happy family home.

"When investigating the shaman's case, Isun must have been involved, too, right? He probably meddled with something he shouldn't have, causing those spirits to follow him. Have you heard the old saying about people acting strangely or committing murder without any prior indication? They often say a ghost made them do it. I think those two spirits influenced him to start worshipping and offering sacrifices, which is why his behaviour changed."

"If those were the first two victims, that makes sense." Singha pushed the dining table aside and lifted the rug, scattering dust everywhere.

"After that, he began studying black magic and likely encountered the legend of Mae Sue in combination with human sacrifices. He thought it would work." Thup looked at the floor, pressing his lips together. Red talismans were pasted all over the floor, as if to keep something contained. "Offering seven victims equates to worshipping Mae Sues of seven days to care for one's child. But in reality, he was only offering sacrifices to those mother-and-daughter ghosts. As time passed, the ghosts' demands increased, making them seek new victims every five years."

"Ridiculously insane." Singha walked over to the cabinet under the sink and took out a hammer. "Is that what you got from that damn shaman?"

Thup quickly hid his hands behind his back, knowing it was pointless since Singha had already seen the wounds.

"Don't do it again. There are many ways to investigate without hurting yourself." Singha glanced at Thup before scanning the house again. "How did you get here?"

"I had P'Charn drop me off. He's waiting outside." Thup looked out of the house before turning back to Singha. "We don't have much time, P'Singh. It's just me left..."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm the last victim." Singha looked up at Thuap and pushed his tongue against his cheek to release his frustration.

"Stand back!" Singha ordered, using the hammer to break the wooden floor. Each strike was followed by a scream and the house shaking, indicating whatever was there was displeased.

'You're disrespecting me!!

"Brother, we need to hurry," Thup warned as the female ghost reappeared before them. A vase flew towards them, smashing against the wall and scattering glass everywhere. Fortunately, none of the shards hit them.

"Damn it!!" Singha cursed, hammering the floor until it cracked, revealing that it wasn't dirt underneath. "Thup, go wait in the car!"

"No! How can I leave you here alone?" Despite his words, Thup's actions showed he was scared. Sweat dripped from his face, and blood soaked his bandaged hands. Singha stopped hammering, took off his amulet, and put it back on Thup. "No, you have to wear it."

"You wear it and don't take it off. That's an order! No matter what you see, don't run away. Stay here, understand?" Seeing Thup reluctantly nod, Singha returned to the floor. The wood gradually broke, revealing a large hole, and he knew well that whatever was down there wasn't clean.

！！

The sound of wood scraping made Thup look up. His eyes widened as he saw the wooden table moving towards Singha. But before he could reach out, a pale hand emerged from the hole and pulled Singha down.

"P'Singh!!!"