The Fourth Ghost Story - Mom (3)

By the time I hurried home, night had already fallen outside. As I reached the apartment entrance and looked up at our place from afar, I spotted Mom standing on the pitch-black balcony.

···In the exact same spot as before.

'Where's Dad? Hasn't he come home yet?'

Just as I arrived at our building's entrance, I saw Dad standing blankly in front of the door.

"Dad!"

I rushed over in a few strides.

"···Joon-ah. You're home now."

"Dad, has anything weird happened?"

"Weird? What do you mean···?"

Dad feigned ignorance with a calm expression. But from his hesitant demeanor, it was clear he'd gone into the house first, seen whatever was impersonating Mom, and bolted out. Why else would he be pacing around the entrance instead of going inside?

"Dad! There's something weird in the house. It's pretending to be Mom."

Dad's eyes widened in shock as he stared at me.

"When did you first see it?"

"After school today when I got home."

"I see."

Dad let out a deep sigh before speaking.

"I've been seeing it for three days now."

According to Dad, it started three days ago— the day before my entrance ceremony. He'd woken up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and spotted Mom standing on her head in the pitch-dark living room.

'Honey, what are you doing in the middle of the night?'

'Other husbands all pick up their wives in cars, but you complain it's too hard···'

She'd muttered those words slowly while handstanding, then crawled toward the balcony on her hands alone and vanished. The next day, while Dad was working at the office, a call came from home. I was at the entrance ceremony, and Mom was at her shift at the mart—no one should have been home.

'Hello?'

'Are you really my mom? I should visit my parents too and see my own mom's face···'

It was Mom's voice, Dad said.

'Hello? Honey? What the hell are you talking about all of a sudden?'

'On your days off, do some laundry too··· You're not the only one making money···'

Click— tu-tu-tu—

The call cut off after that. Shocked and sensing something off, Dad called back home—no answer. He tried Mom, who was obviously at work. For context, Dad's a total softie for Mom; even with both working, he insists on handling all the chores, leading to their usual bickering. My dad—objectively a devoted, hardworking family man—had zero reason to hear complaints like that. And as far as I knew, Mom got along fine with Grandma.

Then today: On his way home from work, he spotted Mom standing on the dark balcony, freaked out, and rushed inside. Before opening the door, something felt wrong, so he peeked through the peephole. There she was on the other side, face pressed to the hole, muttering. That's when he bolted and waited out front.

"So for the past few days, even if I got off work first, I'd wait out here for your mom and we'd go in together."

'Oh yeah, now that I think about it, this week...'

Despite different jobs and schedules, they'd always come home together. Having regressed three years, I'd vaguely assumed their shifts just overlapped back then.

"···What do we do, Dad?"

"Hmm, well···"

Dad rubbed his forehead, then seemed to decide.

"Let's go up ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠together for now. Can't exactly report this to anyone."

"···You sure it'll be okay?"

"Can't put your mom in danger. We'll handle it man-to-man before she gets back. Two able-bodied guys should manage, right?"

I nodded and followed Dad into the elevator.

Yeah. This was our house. No way we'd let some freak impersonating Mom chase the owners out, skulking outside forever. Time to face the damn thing head-on.

We got off the elevator, and Dad punched in the door code.

I clenched my fists tight. No clue if punches would work on that freak, but if shit hit the fan, I'd swing anyway.

The door creaked open. Dad went in first; I followed, standing by the shoe rack. Door left wide open for a quick escape if needed. Full night now—the house was pitch black, no light anywhere, just the orange sensor light from the rack dimly illuminating the living room.

And from the kitchen around the corner came a weird sound.

Tok— tok— tok— tok—

Chopping something with a knife.

Tok— tok— tok— tok—

"Dad."

Dad started slipping off his shoes to check but turned back.

"Here."

I handed him an umbrella from beside the rack. He took it silently and nodded gravely.

Tok— tok— tok— tok—

Dad took a slow step forward and called softly.

"Honey?"

Tok— tok— tok— tok—

His grip tightened on the umbrella as he called again.

"···Honey? Is that you?"

I kicked off my shoes, grabbed a glass bottle from the living room as a weapon, and followed.

Tok— tok— tok— tok—

Dad rounded the corner first into the kitchen—his face twisted in horror. I peeked too and froze in shock.

Tok— tok— tok— tok—

"Mom" was handstanding on the sink with one hand, feet hooked on the cabinet above, tapping a cutting board rhythmically with a kitchen knife in her other hand.

Dad's face trembled with rage as he bellowed.

"If you're a GHOST, VANISH! If you're human, GET OUT!"

Tok— tok— tok— tok—

She ignored him, just mimicking chopping on the board.

Dad's hands shook on the umbrella as he yelled again.

"If you're a GHOST, VANISH! If you're human, GET OUT!"

He raised the umbrella to stab— that's when the Mom-thing whipped her face toward us.

"There's people for cleaning and people for tidying— why do you make such a mess?!"

Dad and I raised our weapons.

"Why the fuck do you always live like a pig, you goddamn BASTARD!!!!!! WHY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Still handstanding on the sink, she leaped off screeching and charged.

"Let me breathe too, you fucking ASSHOLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"You intruder! How dare you rampage in someone else's home! Get the fuck out!"

Dad braced and roared back. The thing hopped toward us handstanding on one hand, swinging the knife at Dad's ankle with the other.

Dad snapped open the umbrella downward, blocking the stab. The blade tore the plastic but got tangled in the wires, holding for now.

"You drunken fuck who only drinks and gambles, are you even human you SHITTTTTT!"

"You crazy bitch! Get out of our house right now! Want a beating?!"

Dad bellowed back fiercely, but it was probably bluff. Neither of us would say it aloud, but that thing sure as hell wasn't human. Still, Dad was fighting to protect our home and family.

While they clashed, I circled behind to help. Normal stance, I'd aim for the head—but handstanding, no shot. So I swung the glass bottle sideways into her waist.

"Quit impersonating Mom and fuck off, you BITCH!"

Thwack!

"Aaaah! Do you know how much electromagnetic radiation your smartphone emits?!"

Her face snapped 180 degrees backward to glare upside-down at me.

"Class prez sits focused for three hours straight. Shouldn't have had a dumbass like you."

"Shut the fuck up!"

I kicked her head upward. The Mom-ghost finally lost balance and toppled sideways.

Thud.

Dad and I panted, backing up to reset our stances.

"Huff, huff... Joon-ah, you okay?"

"Yeah. You? Not stabbed?"

"Just grazed. Huff huff."

She writhed on the floor unnaturally, then rose—not like a human. Her waist bent backward smoothly, floating up into the air. Arms raised slowly, she swayed side to side like dancing, hair floating defying gravity, fluttering wildly.

"Honey, we can't live like this. Let's all hang ourselves together."

"···J-Joon-ah, over here."

Dad, sweating bullets, pulled me behind him.

"Something's off, Joon-ah. Stay behind Dad."

"Yeah···"

I felt the shift too. Before, it was monstrous but suppressible by two guys' brute force. Now the air was different—heavy, wrong. She'd been ranting angrily; now her calm voice was more menacing.

She sped up her swaying into thrashing. Then, mid-air, limbs flailing wildly, she went limp with a "Kek!"—mimicking hanging herself, I guessed.

Floating limp, she slowly raised her head.

"I asked all the neighborhood moms— no kid torments their parents like you. I'm done raising you. Get out."

Hot rage surged.

"Bullshit. This is our house. The one who needs to—"

"YAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

She screeched, claws out, lunging at me.

"Joon-ah! Run!"

Dad shoved me back and blocked. The ghost clamped his throat.

"Gurk, gack!"

Her strength was insane—Dad, over 70kg, got half-lifted airborne.

"Let's all die! Hang ourselves together!"

"Guhk, kek, Joon-ah... run!"

"Dad!"

That's when someone yelled from the door.

"Joon's dad!! What's going on?!"

The neighbor uncle.

"Oh my god!"

Auntie too, peeking behind.

They'd heard the commotion and come to check. Thank fuck we'd left the door open for escape.

"Uncle! Auntie! Help!!"

"This can't be! Stop it! Joon's mom, what the hell?!"

Uncle ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rushed in, grabbing the ghost's arm choking Dad, straining.

"Gurk, gack—"

"You drink and gamble all day, can't live in this house anymore, our family's hanging ourselves, don't stop us."

Deadpan mutter, still throttling Dad.

"What nonsense is that, Joon's mom! When did this guy ever drink or gamble?! Snap out of it! Damn, what strength···"

Uncle heaved but no give. I dashed to my room, rummaged the desk for a cutter knife, and slashed deep into her arm choking Dad.

Blood sprayed my face.

"Kyaaah! H-how?!"

Auntie screamed behind.

I stabbed again, full force.

"GyaAAAAH!!!!!! You talk to teachers like that too!!!! Mom's a joke to you!!!!"

Finally, the monster released and thrashed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wildly.

"Gack, guhk! Huhk;"

Dad collapsed coughing, then yelled.

"Joon-ah! Hide next door with Auntie and call the cops first!"

"D-Dad! But!"

Hesitating—would Uncle and Dad be safe?—murmurs rose behind. Neighbors crowded the hall, drawn by noise.

"What the hell's going on?"

"Couple fight? It's bad."

'This many people? We're safe!'

"Got it, Dad! Calling now!"

As I pulled my phone, Dad shouted urgently.

"Hide next door to call! Hurry, Joon-ah! Your safety first!!"

"Dad! ···Okay! Be careful!"

Yeah. Ghost in Mom's shape—if Dad fled too, it'd rant nonsense to neighbors. Only Dad and I knew it was a super-strong ghost. Even now, he prioritized my safety, wanting me hidden first.

While she clutched her stabbed arm rampaging, I bolted past, through the crowd to next door—open, thankfully. Auntie followed in a panic.

She'd been frozen before, but with the crowd, she calmed a bit.

"Joon-ah, what's wrong with your mom? You guys seemed so happy···"

"Sorry, I'll explain later."

I locked the door, bolted everything.

"···That thorough?"

Auntie looked bemused at me triple-locking her door, but I ignored and called the cops.

Sure enough, post-call, blue lights flashed. Peeking out: cop car. But treated as domestic dispute? Only three officers.

'That enough?'

Ding-dong-ding~♪ Ding-dong-ding~♪

Watching cops enter, my phone rang—real Mom.

"Hello? Mom! Where are you?!"

Auntie stared, incredulous.

"That your mom? But she was just down there···"

Ding-dong—

Auntie checked the intercom first, gasped. Stammering at me, I went over.

Dad on screen: eyes rolled up, tongue lolling, face jammed close.

Trembling, I grabbed the receiver.

"···Dad?"

"···Liar."

Forced low male voice from an adult woman imitating.

"···Dad's never had a business. And when did we ever eat ramen."

"Fuck off, you crazy bastard!"

I screamed shaking. "Dad" on screen slumped. Hall visible now: all those gawking neighbors floating mid-air, legs kicking wildly. Torsos out of frame, but lower bodies screamed hanging—throats caught on nothing visible.

"What'd you do to my dad, you fucking SHIT!"

Sobbing rage—Mom's face filled the screen.

Her perfectly normal face and voice startled me—but impossible. Furious at my own flinch, I roared.

"I'll fucking kill you! Enough, you FUCK!"

Tears and snot streaming, rage-fueled, I grabbed Uncle's golf club from the living room corner. Shaking, I shoved past Auntie and flung open the door.

"How're you gonna get married so fat, you pig bitch!!"

"Shut your fucking trap!!"

Door open—ghost lunged. I swung the club full-force into her head. Clean hit—skull crunched, something splattered.

But she didn't slow, clamping my throat.

"With that retarded personality, no friends, always alone—how'll you live with that rotten brain? Studies too hard? Know how much Mom suffers outside? Can't study so you game all day, lazy slob making Mom miserable—just hang yourself and die die···"

"Gurk, gack··· guhk."

Struggled futilely. Eyes bulging, tongue out, consciousness faded.

"Be careful going home! Today was so fun!"

Seon-ah smiled at me against the sunset. Old apartment behind, red glow lighting late afternoon.

"Um···" Seon-ah gazed at me.

"Let's meet again tomorrow."

Her flushed face—from the sunset?

In that dreamlike sweet scene, I nodded slowly.

"Yeah, Seon-ah. Let's definitely meet tomorrow too."