Goddess Bless You From Death

Case File 35.

Singha's body fell, hitting something hard, making him groan lightly. The wooden plank that covered the hole wasn't wide enough for him to get inside, so some parts of it scraped against his skin, leaving a trail of blood. The pain in his back indicated that he hadn't just fallen onto the ground but had landed on something else as well.

"P'Singh!!! Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?!! Please answer me!"

Singha opened his eyes and looked up at the commotion above. He saw Thup peering into the hole, concerned. The hole seemed about three meters deep and about as wide as one of his arm spans-enough to throw corpses, whether human or animal.

"I'm fine! Go get that guy to help us!" Singha shouted back.

Fortunately, he had managed to grab a rope on his way down. If anyone was in real danger now, it was Thup, who was still up there with that demonic spirit. "Throw me the flashlight and be careful."

"Wait here. I'll go get 'Charn to help," said Thup, looking like he was about to cry before running off.

"Stuck in this hole. Where else would I go?" Singha muttered to himself. He picked up the flashlight Thup threw down, turning it on to illuminate the area. "Damn it!"

Singha's suspicions were confirmed. This was the only part of the house with a carpet, which should have been in the living room, not here. The carpet seemed to be covering something, and now it was clear-it was hiding the remains of countless skeletons beneath his feet.

Thup looked around, torn between his options. If he left, the spirits would definitely attack Singha. But if he stayed, there was no way to get him out. As he was about to open the door to go outside, the spirits of the mother and daughter appeared, blocking his way.

'You all must die here!!'

"Without me, the ritual won't be complete! And if the ritual fails, you won't receive any offerings! You'll go back to being wandering spirits!" Thup bluffed, clutching the Buddha amulet tightly. He felt like a shaking leaf but knew that if he didn't act, he and Singha would be in danger.

The door gradually creaked open, and Thup saw Charn sitting in the car, clutching the steering wheel. But he wasn't alone; the back seat, the hood, and the roof were swarming with spirits, all looking at Charn hungrily.

"Why is Thup taking so long? And why is the damn AC so cold? I thought I turned it off already." Charn grumbled, rubbing his arms.

He had been feeling cold and uneasy for a while, but when he looked around, there was nothing there, so he kept his eyes on the abandoned house. "Thup? Why is he standing there, not coming out?"

Charn noticed Thup standing by the door but not coming out. He decided to open the car door, get out, and wave his hand, calling out to Thup.

"Hey, Thup! Why aren't you coming out?!" Charn shouted, but Thup just waved back, saying something he couldn't hear. "What's he saying? Hurry up! I need to get back to work!"

Charn walked closer, intending to call the kid out of the abandoned house. Just as he was about to step onto the ground that should have been solid, it softened and gave way, sending him tumbling along with the collapsing soil.

"Ouch! Damn it! Damn my luck!" Charn groaned as he hit the ground below. As he put his hand down on what he thought was the floor, he took a closer look and realised that it was something familiar, like what he had once handled back when he was a medical student. His eyes widened in horror as he looked closer at what was beneath his hand.

"Sh*t!!!"

The skeletons piled up in the hole made Charn shudder. He quickly got up, clasping his hands in a wai gesture. Though he was a medical student and had dealt with cadavers, this situation was different. He was standing on bones, not knowing whose they belonged to or how they had got there. Worse, he was sure he had broken some of them.

"I'm sorry! I'm really sorry! I didn't mean to!" Charn tried to climb out of the hole, but the loose soil kept crumbling, making it increasingly difficult.

'Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!'

Charn's heart raced upon hearing a small voice in front of him. There was no one else down here with him. There hadn't been anyone before he fell. Then, behind him...

!!!

Suddenly, he felt a burning sensation on his right chest. When he looked down, he saw something burning there. Within seconds, flames appeared, scorching through his clothes to his skin.

"F*ck! It's hot! Hot!!"

"HAHAHAHA!"

Charn tried to remove his shirt as the smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils. The demonic laughter of a burnt girl made him feel like he was losing his mind.

"P'Charn, grab my hand!!" The voice from above made Charn reach out without thinking. But just as he was being pulled up, something grabbed his leg.

'You're not leaving!! Burn! Burn! Burn! Be burnt!'

"Get off me, you damn kid! Let me go!" The fear and anger made Charn kick the burnt face, causing the small hands to let go of him. He scrambled out with Thup's help, finally escaping the terrifying hole.

"I gotta get out of this f*cking place!"

"Wait, P'Charn! We need to help P'Singh!"

"Help ourselves first! Do you even know what I just went through, Thup?!!"

"There's only one ghost in that hole. If you go back to the car without P'Singh or me, you'll face hundreds of them!"

"Don't scare me, you little brat!!" Charn looked at Thup's serious face before turning to look at his own car. Although he couldn't see anything unusual, he felt a sudden chill mixed with heat that he now knew wasn't just because of the car's air conditioning. "Hey! Thup, are you serious? Wait for me too!"

Charn followed the young boy into the house, unable to do anything else. Inside, he'd encounter ghosts; outside, he'd encounter ghosts. But one thing was certain: if he stood alone here, he would face the ghosts without any help, and he would not allow that to happen.

Singha used his flashlight to illuminate all the bones in the pit. He tried not to move unless necessary, as it would destroy the evidence. Judging by the state of the remains, these people were likely among the first victims of the ritual sacrifices, or it could be called an experimental phase. Each skull had cracks on the back, suggesting the killer selected victims based on their birthdates, struck when they were alone, and then dragged them back here.

The sound of something being dragged above made Singha look up. "Thup!" There was no response. This alone told him that whoever was upstairs wasn't the person he called out to. "Well, let's see if it's true that humans can't fight ghosts."

Singha ran a hand through his black hair, dirty with dust and soil. He tore off a piece of his shirt, tied one end to the rope, and the other to the flashlight. The young inspector stretched his shoulder muscles a bit before twirling the rope in a circle and then throwing it upwards. He remembered that he had moved a table not far away. If the rope could hook onto the table leg, he could climb up. Even if the rope couldn't support his weight all the way, if he could climb halfway, he could push himself up a bit further.

The first two attempts were failures. Singha exhaled slowly, took another deep breath to focus, and put more force into the third try. When he felt the rope tighten, he smirked. He didn't hesitate to start climbing, using his feet to push against the dirt wall to ease the weight. When he was halfway up and about to reach for the rope, a shadow above blocked the light. 

Looking up, he saw the ghostly woman Thup had drawn standing there, staring down at him. She held a needle and red thread in her hands. Her once completely white eyes had transformed, revealing dark pupils that signified she was furious. Her twisted, contorted face broke into a grin at Singha as she began to crawl down into the pit on all fours.

"This is bad!" Singha found himself stuck in a dilemma. If he let go, he'd fall back down, and all his effort would be wasted. But if he held on, who knew what the ghost might do?

Suddenly, Thup's voice erupted. The young man called out firmly as the Buddha amulet flew from his hand towards the female ghost, who was growing increasingly powerful. He couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of ritual the person controlling her was performing.

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhh!"

Singha saw the ghost disappear along with the items about to fall into the pit, just as the cloth he had tied to the flashlight and rope was about to tear. He had to take a risk now! When the cloth tore, Singha used the force from his foot pressing against the dirt layer to propel himself almost to the edge of the pit, but he didn't make it. He didn't reach.

"Damn it!"

!!!

"Got him! P'Charn, pull P'Singh's other arm quickly!" Thup grabbed Singha's hand just before he fell.

"What the hell is this?! There are bones everywhere. Whose house is this? Jason from Friday the 13th?!!" Charn shouted as he looked down and saw many skeletons, then grabbed Singha's other arm and pulled him up.

Singha ended up lying on top of Thup. The boy's rapid heartbeat, rising and falling, filled Singha with a sense of relief. At least he was with someone alive. Thup panted heavily from a mix of fear and exhaustion, but he was definitely relieved that he made it in time to help Singha.

"Not bad." The voice of the person lying on his chest made Thup open his eyes. Then he realised that they were so close that their faces were less than a hand's breadth apart.

"A-Are you okay, P'Singh?"

"A puppy came to help just in time." Singha ruffled Thup's soft hair, tangling it even more before standing up to his full height. "Let's get out of here first. We'll figure out the rest later."

"Agreed!" Charn responded quickly and was the first to run outside.

"You're hurt." Thup quickly stood up when he saw blood seeping through Singha's shirt from a wound on his stomach.

"I'm not gonna die." Singha grabbed a framed picture from the kitchen shelf before taking Thup's hand and walking out of the house. As soon as their feet stepped out of the house, bright sunlight shone through the gaps in the branches. The warmth of the sunlight replaced the darkness and coldness that gradually faded away. When they reached the car, Thup turned back to look at the house again.

"I'll come back soon."

Singha didn't object when the young man said that, because he also had to return to handle all the evidence they had found. This case wouldn't end with a report of being haunted by ghosts; the murderous father and son would be brought to justice and imprisoned.

The framed picture, tossed to the back of the car, reflected sunlight. It was a family photo of a father, mother, daughter, and son, all smiling happily together. No one would have imagined that behind those smiles were madness and bloodshed, all because of 'superstition!'

An abandoned mill, situated outside the town, was located not far from the graveyard where the incident occurred. It had been unused and ownerless for quite some time, so no one expected it to be used for human sacrifice rituals. The lifeless bodies of two people were hanging from the rafters, and similarly, Dear, Jump, Darin, Lieutenant Khem, and King, who were still alive but barely breathing, were hanging by their wrists. In the wide area in front, there were talismans written in blood. 

Seven animal-headed Sia-Kaban dolls were placed at various corners of the talisman, with sacred threads connecting them to the person sitting in the centre. The wrinkled hands were counting prayer beads made from human teeth, stopping when the sunlight began to stream in.

"Go!" The powerful voice made all the wandering spirits and various evil ghosts disappear instantly. Blood in his mouth was spat onto the skull in front of him in irritation. His angry eyes glanced up at the many animals that had been slaughtered as offerings to the spirits he had summoned. Blood dripped slowly to the ground, pooling at his feet.

"Where's the promised result, Dad?"

"Prepare the ritual square. That kid has to come back today, no matter what."

"What if he doesn't make it in time for the ritual? We can still find others on Saturday." Bom, who was sharpening a knife, glanced at his father standing up. 

The orange robe had turned red from the thick blood. There was no longer a person in yellow robes, only a man drenched from taking other lives.

"He has to come back."

"What's so special about him? Just because he's a brat who sees ghosts doesn't make him special."

"I not only want him but also something else."

"What is it?"

"The spirit that once escaped and is now haunting me." Blood was wiped from his palm. The man once revered and respected by people now showed no sign of the kind, compassionate smile he had been known for. Only ruthless inhumanity remained. 

"His mother's spirit."