The Haunting Dream and the Sudden Friend
Even in the grip of this vile humiliation, her body kept chasing pleasure. Against her will, moans threatened to spill from her throat. Ah! She had come to loathe herself. The feeling was repulsive. Horrific. And yet her body was steadily climbing toward climax.
Ugh… no… no… please… I said no! Stop… please… She thrashed desperately inside the dream. At that moment she would have begged any god—Jesus, Buddha, anyone—to free her from this nightmare. But the dream refused to release her. Instead, as if mocking her suffering, the hideous tentacles ravaging the space between her legs grew even more violent.
She felt it swelling inside her, pulsing and quivering. Waves of unwanted pleasure surged through her at the same time. Her body began to tremble for an entirely different reason. “Haaahk!”
She could hold back no longer. The orgasm tore through her. At the same moment she felt thick, sticky fluid flooding her womb, and a deeper despair swallowed Hyesu whole.
Then someone tapped her shoulder. She gasped and snapped her eyes open. A man in what looked like a station worker’s uniform stood before her.
“Last stop, miss.”
Hyesu looked around in confusion. The subway had come to a halt. The car was, of course, empty. Her face burned crimson as she panted heavily, staring at the older man. Just looking at him made her want to burst into tears.
Her reaction seemed to fluster him as well. “Are you all right? Did something happen?” he asked, concerned.
She couldn’t possibly tell him. She couldn’t say that she had suffered a bizarre nightmare in which something unspeakable had raped her. “I-it’s nothing,” she stammered, then hurriedly gathered her things and fled the train as if escaping a crime scene.
The platform was deserted. She was running from something unseen when—
“Ow!”
Her ankle twisted. She fell hard.
“Ah… it hurts…” The pain was sharp. Strangely, the entire situation suddenly felt unbearable. A surge of emotion she couldn’t contain rose in her chest—anger, shame, a chaotic tangle of feelings she couldn’t name.
“Hic… sob…” The tears came on their own. Behind her the platform screen doors closed and the train pulled away toward the depot. Left alone, Hyesu remained on the ground for a long time, sobbing. She could not understand what was happening to her, or why.
She had typed ghost sex into the search bar and then stared at the screen for a long time, hesitating. Even looking it up felt shameful. Still, she pressed enter. She had searched the same term several times before.
It refers to sexual relations with spirits. Some claim it is not literal intercourse with ghosts but rather the manifestation of repressed sexual desire through dreams. Others, especially those versed in the occult, consider it an extremely dangerous phenomenon.
If it were merely a physiological reaction during sleep, there would be no problem. But a living person carries yang energy. To couple with a yin-heavy spirit is to have that yang stolen. If it continues, one can lose their life force. In severe cases, it may lead to possession.
Every time Hyesu read such articles she felt a bitter irony. She had always enjoyed horror variety shows and scary movies, yet she had never believed in ghosts. She used to think that if anything was frightening, it was people, not spirits. Now that she was experiencing it herself, the terror was overwhelming. And to think it was happening to her… She had never imagined she would one day take such things seriously.
What era was this? Ghosts? And yet, could these recurring nightmares truly be the work of a spirit? Or was it simply stress? Yes, it had to be stress. Or perhaps, as the internet suggested, some long-suppressed desire inside her had grown so strong that it was producing these absurd dreams. Maybe everything was tangled together in a messy, complex knot.
“Hyesu?”
The voice startled her out of her thoughts. She quickly turned off her phone screen. Jia was standing in front of her, expression clouded with worry.
“What’s going on? You didn’t even answer me. Are you really okay?”
This was the third time she had asked. Hyesu started to shake her head out of habit, then stopped. She wondered whether she should tell her close friend the truth. But the words refused to come. How could she possibly say, I’ve been having strange dreams lately. Some ghost-like thing keeps appearing and raping me. The shame alone made it impossible. She couldn’t even bring herself to visit a doctor; she had no confidence she could explain her situation.
Once again she forced an awkward smile. “No, I’m fine. It’s just the graduation project stressing me out. That’s all.”
Jia clicked her tongue. “Yeah, I guess so. Se-a said the same thing—her graduation piece is killing her. By the way, didn’t you start preparing yours earlier than everyone else? How’s it coming along? Is it almost finished?”
“Yeah… I stayed up all night and it paid off. It’s basically in the final stage now, so I’ve been pushing a little harder. That’s probably why I’ve been feeling so worn out. But once I finish the coloring it should be done.”
“Really? Then you still have some time. Take it easy. Have you looked in a mirror lately? You look terrible. You’ve lost so much weight I’m worried you’ll collapse.”
“Haha… yeah…” Had she really looked that bad to her friend? Hyesu gave an embarrassed nod and took a big bite of the sandwich in front of her. It was an egg sandwich she used to love, but lately she had no appetite. She forced it down because she knew she had to eat something. She gave the remaining half to Jia.
Anyway, once the graduation project was over, everything would be fine…
The piece she planned to submit was a painting. A life-sized one. It was a modern reinterpretation of the work by Leonardo da Vinci commonly known as The Virgin of the Rocks or The Annunciation, sometimes called the Virgin’s Announcement. She had altered the classic scene in which an angel delivers an important message about a new era, giving it her own twist.
The painting she had poured her heart into was now nearly complete. As Jia said, there was still time before the submission deadline, so she could afford to rest. But that wasn’t in Hyesu’s nature. If something remained unfinished, she would rather suffer through it and finish in one go so she could rest properly afterward. She could not put down her brush.
Today, too, she continued the remaining work in the studio. The piece stayed faithful to da Vinci’s original without being a mere copy; it carried her own reinterpretation. Even she felt satisfied with it. Yes, this should be enough. As long as she didn’t ruin the coloring, she was sure to receive a high score. Works that scored well were exhibited by the school, which only fueled her motivation. This would be her first and last exhibition. And every one of these achievements would help her future employment.
Hyesu was a Western painting major. When she first entered university she had dreamed of becoming a full-time artist. But she had long since realized how unrealistic that was. She no longer thought she could make a living with paintings. Most people who pursued art or music came to the same realization around graduation: whether they truly had what it took, or whether they should give up quickly and find another path.
Hyesu was no different. She had once been called a genius. Until her first year she had been proud of her skill. She believed her talent had earned her a place in such a prestigious school. Yet she had discovered far sooner than expected that she was merely a big fish in a small pond. Among the students gathered from across the country were true geniuses. They barely seemed to try, yet every painting they produced left her speechless. She kept comparing herself to them. The more she studied alongside those real geniuses as the years passed, the more clearly she understood she could never reach their level.
Ah… so those are the ones who actually make a living with art.