You Shall Witness, The Vengeance of the Wicked Shall Be Shown to You

“Damn it! No!! No!!” Jun-hee screamed, his voice cracking with hysteria. He staggered back and forth before the blocked path, trapped. In his rising panic he stamped his feet, shoved uselessly at the unyielding wall, and kicked it again and again, but the barrier never so much as trembled.

The moment the thought This is the end flashed through his mind, a low, mocking giggle drifted from behind him.

His entire body froze solid. His heart hammered so violently he could feel it in his throat. Trembling, he forced himself to turn.

There she was. So-yeon. Her body still hung limp and lifeless. But her eyes—those bloodshot, bulging eyes—were grotesquely wrong. Her hair was a wild tangle, her face completely drenched in gore. Her clothes had been shredded, leaving her pale flesh exposed, and nestled among the torn fabric were strands of silver-white fur.

It was exactly like the monstrous tiger he had glimpsed on the surface.

Jangsanbum. There had been three of them all along. The creatures had been imitating So-yeon’s face and voice to lure him in.

“S-stay back!” he shouted, scraping together the last scraps of courage he possessed. He clutched the terrified So-hee tightly to his chest, his whole frame shaking pitifully. Every time the thing took a single step forward, he matched it with a backward stumble, but there was nowhere left to run.

“Honey… please die… just die for us… That’s the only way… we can finally be at peace. Honey…”

“Shut your mouth! Stop using So-yeon’s voice! Stop… stop defiling my family, you monster!” Jun-hee roared, the words tearing out of him like a curse.

The injustice of it all burned in his chest. The rage. Why us? Why did this horror have to fall on us? Why had these abominations chosen his wife and daughter? And beneath the fury, guilt and regret surged up like black water. If only he hadn’t divorced her. If only he had been kinder, braver, more responsible—if he had swallowed his pride and held on to her—then maybe none of this would have happened. The tears would not stop falling.

All the while, the thing wearing So-yeon’s skin drew closer.

“Honey…” Its voice began to change, growing rougher, deeper. A sickening crack and grind of bones twisting out of place echoed from inside the stolen body. The sound slithered down Jun-hee’s spine like ice. So-yeon’s disheveled hair was turning silver-white strand by strand. Her hands warped, elongating into powerful, tiger-like forelimbs covered in thick white fur. At the tips, razor claws glinted with lethal promise.

Jun-hee swallowed a gasp and hugged his daughter even tighter. From the thing that had been So-yeon came a guttural, wet chuckle. It was laughing at them. Drool spilled from its jaws; its crimson eyes shone with ravenous excitement at the prey before it.

He only wanted to protect his little girl. He could not let So-hee die meaninglessly in a place like this. Clutching her close, he squeezed his eyes shut.

“I’m sorry… Daddy’s so sorry… ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I couldn’t protect you. I’m so sorry…”

Over and over he apologized to his daughter, the words breaking on every sob. He had become a father yet given her nothing. He had never been the strong, reliable dad she deserved. All she had seen was his pathetic, miserable failure. The regret was crushing. If only he had lowered his worthless pride, been better to his family, stayed with them—perhaps this nightmare would never have found them. Everything was his fault. All of it.

So at the very least, he had to save So-hee.

“I’m sorry, So-hee! Ugh—!”

“KRRRRAAAAAHHH!”

The Jangsanbum’s blood-freezing roar shook the air. The creature that wore his wife’s face hurled itself forward. Its eyes blazed with murderous light, its newly formed claws flashing like polished blades. Its face had finally shed all pretense of humanity, revealing a savage maw lined with dagger-like fangs.

This is it. It’s over.

The moment its jaws opened to tear out Jun-hee’s throat—

BOOM!

A violent explosion ripped through the space. The deafening shockwave made the entire area tremble as though the world itself were collapsing. Jun-hee screamed, clutching So-hee desperately as he lost his balance and crashed to the floor. The rumbling continued, shaking dust from the ceiling.

Then, gradually, the roar of destruction faded. A thick cloud of dust rolled over them. Jun-hee coughed violently, then cautiously opened his eyes.

A single talisman floated in the air, glowing softly. Behind it shimmered a transparent barrier, and on the other side the creature that could no longer be called So-yeon was trapped, its monstrous face twisted in rage.

Jun-hee drew in a sharp breath. From behind him came a voice heavy with such overwhelming authority that it seemed no living thing could possibly defy it.

(Recompense: the repayment of good and evil according to their just cause and effect / Psalm 91:1-16)

The Jangsanbum whirled in terror. Behind it stood a priest, eyes blazing, a blood-red sword held high. The creature began to shake uncontrollably.

Hwan launched himself forward. At the same instant the Jangsanbum leapt to meet him. A horrifying beastly roar split the air—only to be severed clean by the crimson blade.

SHIIING!

The sword’s merciless arc split the world in two. The Jangsanbum’s pitiful howl lasted only a heartbeat before it was cut short with a wet crunch. The monster fell, bisected, dead before it hit the ground.

To Jun-hee, the sight looked like God Himself descending to pass judgment on evil.

“What… what are we supposed to do now?” Jun-hee asked quietly once they had stepped outside.

Hwan shrugged, gazing toward the horizon. Dawn had broken while they were underground. The wind was still cold, yet faint threads of warm sunlight were beginning to pierce the chill. The young priest’s eyes drifted back to the blood-soaked warehouse. Jun-hee stood before it with a haunted expression. His daughter So-hee slept peacefully in his arms, her small body terribly thin but otherwise unharmed. They had been granted a miracle.

“How can I possibly explain any of this? Will people even believe what I saw?”

“Most likely not. The world we live in isn’t one that easily accepts such things.”

Hwan’s answer was calm. Unexplainable events occurred every day—things science could not account for. People called them hallucinations, mental breakdowns, or simple coincidence. They always tried to force the inexplicable into a rational box. They could not accept the strange as it was. This incident would be no different. No matter how truthfully Jun-hee described it, no one would believe him. Hwan knew this from bitter experience.

“It’s going to be incredibly difficult…”

“I imagine so.”

There was little else Hwan could say. His part in this was finished.

“What in God’s name were those things? The things I saw… ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠what were they? Ghosts? Demons? Or… monsters? And you—what exactly are you?”

“That’s a difficult question. I believe I told you before—I don’t fully understand it myself. What they truly are, where they come from, why they do these things… I don’t know. You could call them ghosts, demons, or yokai and you wouldn’t necessarily be wrong. I simply lump them all together and call them Gwoeyi.”

“Gwoeyi…” Jun-hee repeated the word several times, as if tasting it. He tightened his arms around his sleeping daughter.

A sudden gust of wind made ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him shiver.

“Then why did it have to be us? Why did my wife… why did my daughter have to suffer like this?”

“There is no reason. Sometimes… people are simply unlucky.”

“Just… just bad luck? That’s all it takes for something like this to happen?”

Hwan’s expression grew bitter. “I understand how you feel.”