Prologue: The Crowd Bar

Author ~ MTRD.S.

Translator ~ Changbins_Delulu_Wife

In Thailand, people have been encouraged to believe that they have the freedom to follow any religion. Everyone possesses the right and liberty to have faith in whatever they prefer. Though it is often said that Thailand is a Buddhist society, as the majority practice Buddhism, very few genuinely know and understand Buddhism and its principles, including its beliefs and practices, especially given the long-held notion that Thailand... is the Land of Ghosts.

Amidst the rituals, beliefs, and various elements in our surroundings, it is evident that a multitude of spirits, gods, and even angels have been summoned and worshipped. These include guardian spirits known as Grandfathers and Grandmothers, Phi Fa, Phi Ta Khon, nature deities, boat nymphs, house spirits, and many more.

We frequently see flowers, incense, candles, and offerings placed at such locations as road curves, deserted valleys, three-way intersections, or even oddly shaped trees, as if something had happened there.

[Phi Fa are supernatural beings in Northeastern Thai folklore, believed to possess the ability to heal the sick, dispel obstacles, and bestow good fortune.

The origin of these Northeastern ghouls is uncertain, but they are famous for a vibrant festival that features participants donning elaborate masks representing ghosts and spirits.]

This kind of belief and practice has been passed down through generations, creating controversial yet undeniably active legends because, after all, they are superstitions.

Today, people start to seek their own spiritual anchors. They worship and pray to Chinese gods, Hindu gods such as Brahma, both Devas and Yaksha, and other spiritual entities, including ghosts, spirits, and demons. How can we be certain that those we worship and pay homage to are the right ones, not something masquerading in disguise that we mistakenly revere?

Saturday night under a waxing moon.

Rainstorms raged. Gale-force winds rattled the loose hinges of wooden windows, producing eerie howls that sounded like tormented souls screaming. Inside the house, four figures sat within a circle of sacred thread. A six-month-old baby's cry echoed throughout the room as if it had been terrified of something the whole time. The baby twisted and turned in the threshing basket while three elders conducted the ritual.

"Three days a ghost's child, four days a human's bairn. Whose newborn is this? Please come and claim it," said a male elder anxiously. Customarily, the parents should have accepted the baby, but this time, things unfolded differently.

"Whos-"

Uhhhh!!!

A haunting noise enveloped the space. The ritual practitioners glanced around searching for the source. When they found no one sight, their pressing hands instantly rose to their foreheads.

"This child is the offspring of the living, not the dead," the elder continued, his concern deepening. The candlelight on the altar was snuffed out by a sudden gust,

leaving only wisps of white smoke. Wrinkled hands frantically stroked a match to rekindle the light. But then he was startled as, in a dark corner of the house, a pale woman in a torn sarong and a stained morhom shirt appeared, perhaps from what seemed to be rust or dried blood.

Her pale face indicated dissatisfaction, but it failed to show in her eyes, for the area where the whites and blacks of her eyes should have been was tightly stitched with red thread, obscuring them completely. Similarly, her thin lips were sewn shut, unable to open. No matter how hard she tried to speak, it only allowed crimson blood to trickle down the needle marks.

'Namo Bhuddaya Mapa Tana Pa Ka Sa Ja 

Suppethavaphisajeva Alavakatayopiya

Khakkhang Talapattang Tisawa Sappeyakkha

Palayanti Sakkasa Vachirawuthang'

A wail rose from her throat amidst the chanting. The wind blew forcefully, carrying everything aloft. 

'Vesuvannassa Khatavuthang

Alavakassa Thusavuthang

Yamanassa Nayanavuthang

Imetissawa Sappeyakkha Palayanti"

When the chanting ceased, everything fell silent. Things and stuff were scattered across the floor, and the tense atmosphere persisted until returning to normal.

"Elder, how is it? It has already left, hasn't it?" The old woman gently stroked the little child's arms and legs, who was still crying, in the hope of soothing him.

"It's not Mae Sue." A white sacred thread was tied around the wrists and ankles of the little child wriggling in the cradle. "The little one can't stay with you. Take him to Luang Pu at the temple."

[This is an incantation for exorcising ghosts known as the "Five Weapons Incantation." It is chanted in Pali and originally derives from Luang Pho Derm, who was ordained at Nong Pho Temple in Nakhon Sawan Province, Thailand. The five weapons mentioned are the weapon of Lord Indra, the eye weapon of Yama, the bell weapon of Lord Vishnu, the wheel weapon of Lord Narayana, and the bell weapon of the giant Arak, who is the great minister of Lord Vishnu.

Mae Sue is the guardian goddess of infants in Thai culture.  Luang Pu means a venerable elder monk, while Luang Por refers to a venerable monk in general.]

The old woman looked at the little child, now swollen and red-eyed from crying, with deep pity. With no other options, she had to take the infant to seek refuge under the care of the Buddhist monastery.

The ancient temple, the only one of its kind in the province, was built centuries ago. The monks residing there were all pilgrim monks. It was often said that if one had true faith, the temple would reveal itself.

The villagers revered a particular pilgrim monk residing there so much that they came together to renovate the temple, making it more livable. However, no matter how strong their faith, fear always outweighed it.

This area was said to be a gathering place for spirits, as it was situated on an ancient graveyard. It was no wonder that no one dared to set foot here after dark.

The old couple walked hand in hand into the ancient temple grounds. The child's protests didn't lessen the eerie atmosphere; instead, the wailing seemed to heighten the tension, filling the air with an unsettling sense of foreboding.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The sound of knocking on the church door echoed loudly amidst the strong gusts of wind. Intensified by its opening, the creaking of the old wooden door sounded eerie, like whispers from bodachs.

"L-Luang Pu."

"You should let go. No matter how worried you are, those who have passed away cannot coexist in this realm." The tone was as chilly as a stream, even though neither the old man nor the old woman had yet recounted any events.

As the voice of the elderly monk ended, the strong wind blew leaves and grass all over the place like a raging storm. The small windows banged open and shut loudly, as if someone were expressing their discontent.

"Luang Pu, this child has no father, and his mother has passed away. When I took him in, countless misfortunes befell us. Can you take care of him?" The old woman said, her voice trembling. Ever since taking in this child, the two elders had felt as if they were no longer living alone in the house. Every step they took seemed to be watched by an unseen presence. Objects moved on their own. And at night, there were lullabies mixed with heartbreaking cries. All of this made it impossible for them to live in peace.

The crying child was handed over from the senior couple to the old monk. As soon as the child was in his embrace, the crying gradually ceased. The temple door slowly closed amidst the gaze of hungry spirits, all yearning to possess the pure soul.

"You will see things you don't want to see and hear things you don't want to hear. It will be quite difficult until you get through this misfortune. I hope you can endure and overcome it, Thup."

25 years later.

Inside the bustling police station, people filing reports moved back and forth, as many as the police officers themselves. Such scenes were so common that everyone had become accustomed to them. However, something seemed different today.

An officer ran into the station, looking alarmed. His panicked face glanced around as if searching for someone.

"What's with sweats, Lieutenant Khem?"

"Inspector! Where's the Inspector?!"

"The Inspector went out on a case this afternoon. It's a child kidnapping case. What's wrong? Did someone die or something?"

"Someone literally died!!" Lieutenant Khem ran out again, then hopped on his trusted motorcycle and drove off to the destination he had previously asked his stationmate about.

Soon enough, he arrived at the front of a mill in the suburban area. Khem walked through a crowd of villagers who were standing outside. He scanned for his inspector for a while and then caught sight of a sun-kissed young man. With his thick build and a demeanour that was both confident and intimidating, he earned the respect of his fellow officers. His sharp features matched his piercing night-sky black eyes, which always seemed to have a hint of decisiveness.

"Inspector! Inspector!" Lieutenant Khem ran up, panting heavily.

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

"...Code 241, sir."

The sharp-eyed man looked at his subordinate calmly before walking away from the crowd, as the code Lieutenant Khem mentioned was for a murder case.

"Where?"

"In the forest, six kilometres from here, sir. The officers informed me that they found seven human bodies hanging in the middle of the forest."

"Meet me there. Secure the area, and call in the forensics and medical examiner teams to the scene. Don't let anyone touch anything until I get there."

"Understood, sir."

"Inspector Singha, should we take the suspect back to the station now?" A shout from inside caught Singha's attention, making him turn around.

"Yes, take care of the kids. Send them to the hospital for medical check-ups and notify their guardians." Singha walked over to his pitch-black motorcycle, straddled it, and rode off without hearing the calls of his subordinates, who were running after him.

"Inspector!!! The suspect is still in the area!!!"

In the forest beyond the outskirts of the community, there was no light except for the brightness of the full moon. The leaves rustled despite the absence of wind. Though there should have been the sounds of small insects chirping at night, it was so silent that the police officer, ordered to guard the area and the suspect, could hear his own rapid breathing. He glanced around nervously, feeling scared.

Rustle!

"What was that?!?" At the mere sound of the unknown noise, he quickly grabbed his baton. Sweat trickled from his temples and palms. When fear takes over, the human mind tends to conjure up the very things it dreads.

Scratch! Scratch!

A creepy sound, like fingernails scraping against wood, came from behind him. He didn't dare to turn around and look at the scene, because if he did, the image of the seven corpses hanging from the treetops would definitely haunt him forever.

"Wh-Who's there?!!!" The young policeman squeezed his eyes shut and swung his baton wildly. The bitterly cold atmosphere couldn't calm his mind. On the contrary, it made him feel as if he had slipped into another world entirely.

"Sob'

A faint sob echoed near his ear. The more he closed his eyes, the sharper his other senses became. The young policeman, newly recruited and assigned to this area, had expected an easy job, not a gruesome murder case that chilled him to the bone.

'Sob! Sobbb! Sob! Sobbb! Sob! Sobbb! Sob! Sob! Sobbb! Sob!’

From one voice, it multiplied to two, then three, until he could no longer distinguish how many there were. He only knew that the sobbing and wailing were so close; it felt as if the crying people were standing all around him.

"G-Get out! Go away!! Leave me alone!!!" The security guard's baton was swung aimlessly back and forth before it was stopped by the thick hand of a newcomer.

"What are you doing?"

"Ah!!!" The young policeman dropped to the ground before clasping his hands together and chanting incoherent prayers. 

"Namo, namo tassa, namo tassa."

"Open your eyes." The low, slightly irritated voice made the new police officer slowly open his eyes to look.

"In-Inspector!!!"

"What are you so afraid of?"

"J-just now, I really heard a sound. It felt like someone was here with me!!"

"Who else? It's that kid." Singha tossed the baton back to the person in front of him before walking into the crime scene. He looked up at the seven bodies hanging from the branches of the surrounding trees, forming a circle. His sharp eyes scrutinised each face of the deceased one by one. 

The moonlight revealed that the faces of the corpses had red threads sewn over their eyes and mouths, sealing them shut. Some bodies looked like they had been dead for several days, bloated, with bruised and split skin revealing flesh beneath. Some were turning greenish-purple with swelling, while others had fresh bruises as if they had just died. 

Singha looked down at a young man whose pale skin was illuminated by the moonlight. However, he wasn't entirely clean, as his hands and body were covered in crimson blood. The tall, slender body trembled as he sat, hugging his knees tightly. Singha couldn't see the boy's face because he kept his head down, muttering something.

[This Pali chant is a customary practice in the Theravada tradition to pay homage to the Buddha.]

"Look up."

"I-I didn't.."

"I said, look up."

"I didn't do it. It wasn't me." Singha crouched down in front of the terrified young man. The fear this boy had reminded him of someone he once knew-the same fear he had seen before. 

"I-I didn't do it...I really didn't. It was. It was the ghost."

The young man looked up at Singha, and that single glance froze the inspector. The boy's fair face, beautiful brown eyes framed by long lashes, a well-defined nose, and lips, all glistening with tears reflecting the moonlight, filled Singha's mind with questions. Questions about...what this young man was doing here.

Before long, various units arrived at the scene, everyone shocked by the grisly sight before them. A young forensic doctor greeted his close friend with a light pat on the shoulder.

"This one's a real mess, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Judging by the state of the bodies, they didn't die just a day or two ago. There are bruises, and they're starting to smell."

"Someone said that kid was found at the scene." Both turned to look at the young man, who was glancing around in panic.

"Did you see the faces of the seven victims? This isn't just a normal murder," the young forensic doctor said with suspicion.

"Take pictures of all the evidence first, then bring the bodies down. There's only one set of footprints on the ground. Judging by the size, they belong to that kid. The blood on him looks too fresh to have come from the corpses, but it's possible he hurt someone before coming here. I'll take him back to the station and collect a blood sample for testing. You stay here and look after things."

"Do you think a kid with such an innocent face could do something like this?"

"Any face can commit a heinous act."

Singha then gave instructions to his subordinates at the scene before walking back to the car. "Take him back to the station and keep him in custody for now."

"Yes, Inspector."

Singha glanced at the young man again. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but he remained silent. The young inspector mounted his motorcycle. He turned back to look at the crime scene once more. The bodies hanging from the trees, illuminated by moonlight, resembled a nightmare to many, but not to Singha.

He had to solve this case and bring the culprit to justice.