Goddess Bless You From Death

Case File 9.

Thup was standing in the ring, holding a pair of white boxing gloves. On the other side, Singha, already wearing black gloves, was looking his way.

"P'Singha, but. I've never boxed before."

"The basic rule is simple: if you don't hit, you get hit. Ready?"

Thup had no choice but to put on the gloves and nod at the young inspector. 

"Good. Now, keep your guard up to protect your face. If you get punched in the head, you're done. Understand?"

"Y-yes," Thup stammered, raising his hands to guard his face as Singha was demonstrating. The closer the older man approached, the more anxious he became.

"Don't close your eyes," Singha said in a low voice before starting to bounce on his toes. He then lunged forward, throwing a punch at the boy in front of him with speed and force reduced by half. Even so, the punch still landed squarely on Thup's cheek, knocking him down. "Thup, I told you not to close your eyes."

"Sorry," Thup apologised, rubbing his cheek. He shook his head slightly to clear the dizziness from the punch. Singha squatted in front of the young man, lifting Thup's chin with his hand.

"If you close your eyes, you can't see the punch coming. If you can't see it, you can't block it or dodge it. The only thing left is for the punch to land on your face. Understand?"

"Yes, I understand"

"One more time." Singha stood up, watching Thup return to position. The black gloves clashed twice before Singha swung another punch at his opponent.

"Ow!!" Thup cried out loudly before collapsing onto the ground. Crimson blood slowly trickled from his prominent nose.

"You idiot! I told you not to close your eyes, but I didn't say to just stare at the punch without dodging. This is driving me insane!" Singha threw off his gloves and tossed them on the floor before stepping out of the ring to grab some tissues. He pressed the tissue to the young man's nose. "Don't tilt your head back. Keep it down."

Thup let the older man dab the blood from his nose without pulling away. Despite just getting punched, his eyes still shone brightly. Even with gloves and a restrained punch, he still ended up like this. Without the gloves and restraint, what state would he be in? Singha was really cool.

"Seriously, how have you even survived this long?" Singha asked, pressing the tissue to Thup's nose to stop the bleeding.

"I've never been in a fight before," Thup replied.

"Never?"

"Nope," Thup answered, sitting cross-legged and looking at his big brother with admiration.

"So, what did you do all day?"

"I went to study and went back to clean Luang Pu's cell. When I entered university, I just studied and then went back to my room to draw."

"That's it?"

"Yes."

"No friends?" Thup shook his head, but his face remained still, held in place by Singha. "Why not make a friend or two? You said you had a Buddha amulet with you."

"When I was a kid, I couldn't tell the difference between ghosts and people, so I'd often end up talking to ghosts. So... people thought I was weird and started avoiding me. When people get scared, the only thing they do is push you away. At first, they just wouldn't come near me or let me play with them. Then they started treating me like something to avoid. My bag often got thrown outside, and things were tossed at my head whenever I wasn't looking. Over time, I forgot how to talk to others." Thup's voice was steady as he recounted his past while Singha listened quietly. "After being alone for so long, I didn't know how to start anymore. Maybe that's why I never made any friends."

"Then, how do you deal with your art commission clients?"

"Mostly, I draw online, so I don't need to see their faces. If it's a framed drawing, they transfer the money, and I send the picture."

Thup spoke calmly, realising that he hadn't had a conversation like this since Luang Pu passed away. The first person he talked to this much was the one in front of him. 

"Today at the temple... I saw a ghost."

"And?"

"He wore a torn blue uniform. His body was twisted and deformed. Half of his skull was caved in, and the corner of his mouth was torn up to his ear. He said to me, 'motorbike' and 'money. I know you don't believe in this stuff, but let me prove it to you. You don't have to believe it; just check it out, please." 

They stared at each other, and Singha noticed that one of Thup's eyes was dark brown, while the other was slightly lighter.

"The bleeding has stopped," Singha said, standing up. He looked at Thup again before stepping out of the ring and turning back to see him still sitting there with a dejected expression. "Are you coming to check out this ghost story of yours? If you are, then get down here."

Thup immediately broke into a smile. At least Singha was willing to consider his words. The young man jumped down from the ring and stood beside the older man, his beautiful eyes fixed intently on the tattoo on Singha's right arm. As he squinted to get a better look, he realised it was a tiger amidst red Ixora flowers. 

"Your tattoo...

"What about it?" Singha draped a grey towel around his neck and started walking towards the shower room.

"It's a tiger and Ixora flowers, right?"

"Yeah, got a problem?"

"No, it's really beautiful." Thup followed behind, unable to take his eyes off the tattoo. There's a belief that both tigers and red Ixora flowers can ward off evil spirits. He wasn't sure if Singha knew that, but being near him made Thup feel even more protected.

"I'm going to shower. You wait here."

"Can I ask you one more thing?"

"You're full of questions, aren't you? What is it?"

"Tonight.. where am I supposed to stay?"

"Just stay in one of the rooms here for now. There's no way that bastard will let you go back to your condo." Mentioning the third person seemed to irritate Singha again.

"Well... Can I stay with you?" Thup's voice was so quiet that it was almost a whisper.

"What did you say?"

"Can I... stay with you, please? I can wash dishes, clean the house, and cook. I can sleep on the sofa. You can make me do anything, but please let me stay with you. Without you, I'll definitely be haunted. Please, P'Singha, I promise I'll be good." 

Thup's words tumbled out rapidly, fearing he would be scolded before finishing. When no response came, he slowly looked up to see Singha leaning against the door, arms crossed, looking at him calmly.

"Fine."

"Huh?"

"But if you annoy me even once, I'll send you back to the station to sleep."

"R-really?!"

"Yeah, but there's one thing you have to do."

"W-What is it?"

"When King interrogates you, don't mention ghosts, spirits, or anything like that. Got it?"

"Why not?"

"Because it will make my job harder." Singha tossed a water bottle to the boy in front of him and walked into the communal shower room. Thup smiled, sitting down on the floor in front of the shower room, with his heart racing.

As Thup stared at the water bottle Singha had left, the air suddenly grew colder for no reason. He felt someone watching him. When he looked up, he saw a woman about 178 cm tall standing in the gym. Her skin was pale, devoid of blood, and her long black hair was tangled and matted. Her vacant eyes stared at him before her pupils began to quiver and slowly rolled up, leaving only the whites visible. Her previously expressionless face twisted into a rage, and her body began to contort.

Her neck tilted to the side until it finally made a sickening snap. The soft sobbing turned into a gurgling noise as if something were lodged in her throat. She mimicked a retching motion and then vomited thick, foul-smelling blood that made Thup cover his nose. After that, she collapsed to the floor, retching in agony as clumps of hair, nails, and worms spilt out, wriggling on the floor. Finally, what had been blocking her airway fell out, and she resumed her pitiful sobbing.

"M-Ms. Meen, is that you?"

"Ніc... Hiccс..."

She continued to sob uncontrollably. Seeing this, Thup tried to muster his courage. He wanted to put an end to this once and for all. He wanted to know what had happened both now and twenty years ago.

"M-Ms. Meen, can you t-tell me what happened?"

Just as she was about to speak, a red thread emerged from her lips, sewing her mouth shut until fresh blood covered the floor. Her eyes were similarly sewn shut with the red thread. Thup backed away in extreme fear, pressing himself against the wall. As Meen's spirit fell to the floor, another female spirit he had seen in her house appeared.

This spirit grinned with a mouth that stretched to her ears. Her pale hand grabbed Meen's hair, yanking it so hard that her neck tore. The eerie laughter made Thup, who was hugging his knees, cover his ears to block it out, because he didn't want to hear it anymore. 

"Thup." The spirits vanished instantly when Singha nudged the frightened young man with his knee. "I was only gone for a moment."

"P'Singh. P'Singh."

"What?" Singha noticed that Thup was still staring ahead intently, but when he looked, he saw only the empty gym.

"The doll."

"What?" Thup's voice was so soft that Singha had to ask again.

"The Sia-Kaban Doll," Thup murmured, recalling vividly what he had seen earlier. What Meen had vomited out was the cursed doll.

[The Sia-Kaban Doll is made from soil. It acts as a protective representative for its owner, absorbing illness, harm, and danger that would otherwise affect the owner or their relatives. Once the doll is completed, its head is intentionally removed, giving rise to its name 'Sia-Kaban, which translates to losing head doll.]

Singha walked out of the gym scanning for his subordinates. Spotting Lieutenant Khem having a late-night meal at a table, he approached him with Thup following closely, still visibly shaken.

"Lieutenant, have we handled any motorcycle accident cases recently?"

"Plenty, sir."

"Find one for me. The deceased was a male riding a motorcycle. His injuries include a crushed skull, torn lips, and a deformed body, and he was wearing a blue uniform, possibly a gas station employee."

"Give me a moment, sir. Why the sudden interest in accident cases?" Khem asked as he searched the accident case files on his computer.

"Just curious. And what about the search warrant I requested?"

"It's ready, sir, but... the head of the investigation team took it."

"Hmm," Singha was unsurprised. That bastard never allowed him to get a step ahead.

"Ah, found it, sir. It seems to be from earlier this month. There was an accident at a three-way junction. A motorcycle was hit by a truck that ran a red light, killing the rider instantly. The family has already pursued legal action. But, Inspector, how did you know the exact details of his death? It matches perfectly." Singha glanced at Thup, who was also looking at him.

"And the motorcycle?"

"It's in the evidence storage. His family didn't reclaim it."

Lieutenant Khem handed Singha the document with the storage details and a photo of the bike.

"I'm going to take a look. Also, Lieutenant, could you check out the Santidhamwararam Temple for me? I want the records of all the monks and staff there."

"Why do you want them, Inspector? I know the abbot quite well."

"Just do it."

"Alright, sir."

Singha headed to the back of the station, where a warehouse connected to the building stored large evidence items. Before opening the door, he turned to the young man trailing behind him.

"Close your eyes."

"Sorry?"

"Half of the stuff in here is from fatal accidents. So, close your eyes." Thup looked at Singha pleadingly, but seeing the seriousness in his eyes, he knew Singha wouldn't leave him alone unless necessary. He slowly closed his eyes, finching slightly as he felt something cover them.

The faint fragrance was familiar —Singha's scent. "Follow me carefully."

Singha opened the door. The cold inside the warehouse didn't faze him, but the boy behind him was clearly nervous, judging by the hand gripping his wrist. Singha walked inside, with Thup following closely. The boy navigated the space flawlessly, which was a relief. When Singha reached the motorcycle storage area, he searched for the bike matching the photo and found it parked deeper inside the lot.

"Stay here. I'll be right back." Thup immediately grabbed his wrist.

"Just a moment. The bike is inside. You won't be able to avoid everything."

"Please don't leave me."

"I said I'll be right back, and I mean it." Thup pressed his lips together and let go of the older man's hand

Even though his eyes were covered, shielding him from the terrifying sights, the sounds of shuffling and mournful crying still echoed in his ears, making his hands start to shake. The chill running down his spine made him acutely aware that he wasn't standing there alone.

'Are they dead yet?'

'It hurts so much.'

“I want to go home.'

'Shall we leave together?"

'Yaksha".

'Yaksha."

'Yaksha.'

'Yaksha.'

'Yaksha."

'Yaksha.'

The repetitive whispers and the same words over and over again made Thup furrow his brows. Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed his, causing him to jump.

"It's me," Singha guided the young man to the door. He then removed the handkerchief from Thup's eyes and showed him what he was holding before tapping it against Thup's forehead.

"What's that?"

"A salary."

"Sorry?"

"The salary of the motorcycle owner."

"Oh..he probably wants us to return this money to his family." Singha didn't respond. He simply looked at the boy's face. The kid was right...

He really could see things he shouldn't.

[Yaksha refers to a class of nature-spirits or deities that appear in Hindu, Jain, and Buddhist mythology. They are often associated with natural elements such as forests, mountains, and water and can be either benevolent or malevolent.]