The Widow's Desperate Plea
p>The woman, who had been pregnant with her husband’s child, finally let out a sob so choked with pain that it tore from her throat. The shaman clicked her tongue once more, then braced herself. Gathering what little courage she had, she gripped the door handle, took a deep breath, and flung the door wide open. The moment she did... In the pitch-black darkness, a pair of glowing eyes flashed into existence. The shaman recoiled in sheer terror, stumbling backward before she could stop herself. But the instant she regained her wits, the strange glow had vanished. Only a woman lay motionless on the bed, as though asleep. Sweat beaded on the shaman’s forehead. Her face had turned grave, and she stood frozen in the doorway like a statue. Then, muttering to herself, she took a step inside—only to halt abruptly, as if something blocked her way. Sweat poured down her brow in thick rivulets. Before she realized it, a single crimson drop trickled from her nose. Paying it no mind, she stared at the woman on the bed for a long moment. Then she rolled her eyes around the room. Religious objects filled every corner: a crucifix, a Buddha statue, a statue of Mary, and amulets... The entire assortment. The late-blooming daughter had clearly spared no means to protect her parents. But that was hardly enough. The shaman slammed the door shut in frustration and refused to enter. Meanwhile, a junior shaman who had followed her master everywhere—even before she received her own spirit call—approached and handed her a handkerchief. Only then did the shaman notice the blood streaming from her own nose, soaking the front of her hanbok. She pressed the cloth to her nose and said, “She’s no ordinary spirit. She’s truly dangerous. So we must... act quickly.” “C-Can you...?” The shaman still looked uncertain. The junior shaman had known her for years; she could see the fear hidden behind the stiff expression. The shaman looked troubled. Was she hesitating because she faced an existence that was no ordinary thing? Yet she soon made her decision. “First, prepare. Do what you can. We can’t leave her like this...”
p>Haa... haa... Aah... Who... please help me...
p>The woman panted heavily, sweat dripping down her face as she stared at the ceiling stained pitch black. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over, and she began to weep pitifully. She looked utterly terrified and wracked with agony. Not even a crucifix, a Buddha statue, or an amulet could ease her suffering. Her sobs grew louder; her body thrashed. Why had the silver crucifix at her neck begun to blacken? “Aah... aah...” The cries of pain grew fiercer. Her movements grew violent. Soon her body was drenched in sweat. “Mom... Dad...” She cried out desperately, but the voice vanished into the room thick with yellow amulets. “I’m suffocating... I can’t breathe...” The thin voice faded away. “Huk!” Her agony intensified until she writhed as if stabbed by a sharp object. “Huk... hiuk...” Her breathing grew ragged. “Aah... aah... Mom... Dad... it hurts... it hurts so much...” Her voice cracked and echoed through the room. “I want to leave here... I want to leave...” She could not leave. The door was locked, and even that was not enough; thick iron chains and nails secured it. She could not escape. Shivering like a leaf in a cold wind, she trembled. Then, “Huk!” A choked breath escaped her as her back arched violently. The blanket slid off, revealing her emaciated frame. Her body twisted even more severely. Finally... “Aaaah!” A piercing scream. “It hurts... it hurts!! It hurts!!” The agony that should have been contained exploded into a wail. Her body convulsed. Blood foamed at her lips; her wide eyes turned blood-red, and tears of blood began to fall. At that moment she looked down at her belly. Her once-thin frame had swollen grotesquely. Something moved inside the taut curve—an utterly disgusting, nauseating sensation that made her retch. Trembling, she vomited, cried, screamed, and screamed again. Then... “Let me out of here!! Let me out!! You bitch!! You disgusting bitch!! You fucking bitch!!” She hurled savage curses. Abruptly she sat up. She glared at the locked door, yellow amulets plastered to it. She looked at it like an enemy and screamed, “Disgusting bitch!! Do you think I don’t know? When my husband went out, you slept with another man!! Dirty bitch!! I saw everything! I pretended not to know, but I saw everything!! And when he went to meet that friend, you spread your legs for him in this house!! I knew! I saw it all!!” Her words grew nonsensical; her voice turned into a beastly growl. At the same time, her eyes, bloodshot, rolled sideways and she burst into cruel laughter. “You’re no better, are you? You went to the city while your wife worked the fields and fucked Jeong Madam!! You buried your face between her legs and drank her dirty water!! Do you think I don’t know? Hehehee!” The voice continued in a sly tone. “Ha... haeng... heuk... Mr. Yongha... aah... aaaaa... you can’t do that. Auk... here... huk... I’ll just abandon that woman... come to me? Heueet! Huk! Daughter? Ah, the daughter’s grown... heueet... haeng... just live with me, Mr. Yongha... let’s go to Seoul together. This dreary countryside...” She moaned as though in ecstasy and imitated another woman’s voice, then laughed cruelly, only for the laughter to cut off. Now her voice, rough and guttural, spewed savage curses. She laughed again, then thrashed in agony. “Cough!” She finally vomited blood and shuddered, screaming, “I’ll kill you all!! I’ll kill every last one of you!! I... I... I... I... Kyaaaah!” A sharp scream tore from her throat. Her body twisted in a grotesque angle—back arched the wrong way, arms bent backward with a sickening crunch. “Euk... euk...” The sound was eerie and horrifying. Then... “Mom... Dad... it hurts... it hurts so much... please save me.” Her original voice returned, pleading desperately, “Please... save me!” The sobs and screams tangled together. Meanwhile, in the yard outside the house, the old couple sat in despair. They were the parents of the woman. How had their late daughter come to this? They shook with sobs, tears streaming. The situation was hopeless. Screams echoed from every direction. The sound of the drum and gong that had been blaring ceased abruptly. The shaman collapsed. The old couple sank to the floor, unable to comfort their weeping daughter. They could only curse the situation itself. Why had this trial been sent to them? Yongha, the daughter’s father, had long since lost his mind. From inside the house came the desperate voice calling him—sometimes filled with hatred, sometimes mocking, sometimes obscene filth—and sometimes a beast-like howl. It was not the daughter’s voice. The rain began to fall. The furious downpour swallowed the changing voices of the daughter, one after another. Yongha sat on the floor, helpless. What was he supposed to do now?