Please Kill Me
I finished my daily routine and headed to the Worship Hall. The first thing I saw upon entering was my uncle. He had a calculator on the table and was furiously punching numbers. No need to ask—it was obviously money-related. I brushed past him and opened the door to my room.
“Whoa, what? When did you get here? I was so focused I didn’t even notice.”
“Just now.”
“Yeah? Oh, right, Seon-woo.”
My uncle set the calculator down on the table with a clack and called out to me.
“That thing... the title? Holy Mark? Isn’t the appointment ceremony tomorrow?”
“Yeah, tomorrow.”
“What’s with the reaction? You were making a huge fuss about how you had to get it no matter what. Did you bomb the exam?”
“Just... so-so.”
“That’s what I always said to my sister when she asked about my grades as a kid. Sounds like you tanked it.”
My uncle teased. I gave a wry smile. He tore open a stick of instant coffee mix and continued while stirring.
“Anyway. If you do get that title or Holy Mark or whatever, let me know. You said there’s a donation fee, right?”
“Ah... yeah. But don’t get your hopes up. It’s not gonna happen anyway.”
“I was never hoping. Just say the word if you need cash.”
My uncle said it carelessly. Our conversations always circled back to money. I often wondered why he was so obsessed with hoarding it. Greed was human nature, sure, but his went beyond that—it bordered on obsession. Still, whatever the reason, most of that hard-earned cash went to me and the Voodoo Cult anyway. I shrugged it off and was about to head into my room when I realized the Worship Hall felt oddly empty.
“Uncle. Where’s Ji-a unnie?”
“Ji-a? Oh, she’s been busy lately. Out wandering every night.”
“...Why?”
“Dunno. Something about investigating.”
My uncle sat down nonchalantly and started tapping at the calculator again. The cheerful beeps filled the hall with each keypress. Without Kang Ji-a there to greet me first thing like always, the place felt utterly deserted. I shook off the inexplicable emptiness—I had no idea what was causing it. Come to think of it, she wasn’t some live-in housekeeper for the Worship Hall. She was an informant. It was only natural for her to head out on investigations.
I flopped onto the damp bed and stared blankly at the ceiling.
It had been four days since the Charity Holy Mark re-election exam. The discussions on who would claim the Charity Holy Mark had dragged on. And tomorrow—tomorrow was the day results would be announced, coinciding with the appointment ceremony.
The ceremony started at 1 p.m., and there were no classes before then, so students just needed to show up by one. That left some morning time. I could sleep in or hit the gym.
[Your voodoo training has been slacking lately. You should be more diligent.]
I closed my eyes for a quick nap, but Legba’s voice jolted me awake. Sleep wasn’t coming anyway, and now it felt even further away. With a sigh, I sat up, expelled Voodoo Magic, and drew a spell circle.
“But I don’t feel like I’m getting anywhere no matter how much I do this. Am I even doing it right?”
[Water drops pierce stone. Persistence in small efforts leads to great achievements.]
“That’s what I’m saying—is this even effort, or just pointless busywork? If it’s the latter, it’s all meaningless.”
[Have a little more faith in yourself.]
Legba encouraged me, but I wasn’t convinced. To reach the ‘realm of internalization,’ I’d been drawing spell circles and flowing voodoo mist into my body for days. No real progress in that time.
“The spells don’t even work on me, so I can’t tell if anything’s happening...”
[That’s because your resistance is too strong. Keep at it, and eventually you’ll be able to cast on yourself. From there, the ‘realm of internalization’ is within reach.]
“Yeah, sure.”
I didn’t buy Legba’s advice, but I kept at it anyway—drawing circles, sending mist through my body, repeat. How much time passed? The room was now filled with purple mist.
“...That’s enough for today. I’m beat.”
[Good. Overusing Voodoo Magic without proper rest causes dizziness. Get some sleep. Taking care of your health is effort too.]
“Never thought you’d play personal trainer. Duly noted.”
[Don’t get sarcastic.]
I ignored him and closed my eyes.
*
“Kill... her. Kill... the lord.”
Someone shuffles toward me, muttering. Stiff, wooden doll-like steps. A finger dangles broken; arm skin tears open like wings. Cruel, horrific form. I flee in the opposite direction.
Squelch.
The monster pursues. Squelch, squelch—wet steps echo. I run blindly through endless darkness, not daring to look back.
Squelch.
But I stop. No escape. Dead end.
Squelch, squelch. Footsteps close in.
“Kill... her. Kill... the lord...”
The monster repeats it, approaching. I back away.
Squelch!
My foot catches on something—a rock?—and I tumble down. The ground is slick with blood and flesh. The monster advances, skin-wings spread, grotesque form inching closer. Mumbling unintelligible words.
“Kill... the lord... kill... you... your...”
It stops right in front of me. But it doesn’t attack. Instead, it drops to its knees. Head bowed, muttering nonsense for ages, then it lifts its face.
“Ah... ugh... aaah... AAAAH—!”
“Lord... kill. The... me...!”
Seeing its face fills me with deeper terror. I scream, but no sound comes—just a metallic rasp, pathetic and futile. The face is too familiar.
“Lord, please kill me.”
Kang Ji-a unnie.
“Haa... AHH...!”
I bolted awake, screaming. My body was drenched in cold sweat. The nightmare scene lingered vividly before my eyes. Thank god it was just a dream—that’s how terrifying it was. I’d had sleep paralysis before, but never a nightmare this brutal, vivid, and cruel.
My heart pounded like it would burst. No calming down. Deep breaths did nothing for the panic.
“...Baron Samedi.”
This swirling purple mist around me was the cause, I guessed. It snaked into my nose and head. Baron Samedi’s voice echoed in my mind.
[Sorry if it scared you! But wasn’t it pretty fun?]
“Not fun. Don’t do it again. Ever.”
[Oh dear!]
Baron Samedi sounded glum as he continued.
[I always just prophesy verbally—it gets so stale. Thought I’d try a dream this time. If it wasn’t fun, I’ll refrain from now on.]
“Yeah, from now on... wait, what?”
I stopped mid-sentence and shot up. Sleepiness vanished. Verbal prophecies get stale, so he tried a dream. A prophetic dream? Then the nightmare I just had was his prophecy. Realization hit—my spine chilled, goosebumps rose, hairs stood on end.
“That was a prophecy?”
[Yes. Today’s is very direct. What you saw will definitely happen.]
“Definitely? What do you—”
[Depending on your choice, you could lose everything... or just one thing. Today, you’ll face a crossroads. The rest is up to you...]
The purple mist poured out of me. Baron Samedi floated off through the vent. Voice faded with the mist, leaving faint traces.
I mulled his prophecy. Inevitable future. Choice. Lose everything or one thing. Crossroads. Just replaying the words made me dizzy, nauseous.
Phone check: 11:42 a.m. Ceremony at 1. Time to get ready and go.
I burst out the door like I was fleeing. Uncle was reading in the same spot as yesterday; no Kang Ji-a.
“Where’s unnie?”
“She left while you were sleeping.”
Uncle said without looking up from his book.
Kang Ji-a was gone. Where? What would turn her into that monster, begging me to kill her?
“I’ll find a way soon and contact you.”
Suddenly, her words from days ago resurfaced. Not just that—all her words to me flashed by and vanished. My anxiety mounted.
“Any contact from unnie?”
“Nope. ...What’s wrong? Something happen?”
Uncle stared at me, book already closed.
I shook my head. Nothing had happened. Yet.
“If she calls—”
Ding!
A cheerful phone notification cut me off. I checked: text from ‘(Unknown)’.
Meaningless. Like code. No spaces made it harder. My heart thumped dry and strange, like a giant trudging sand. Before I could compose myself, the phone rang—from ‘(Unknown)’ again.
“...Hello?”
I answered. Had to. Static and squelching leaked through.
Squelch, squelch. Same as the dream. I barely suppressed nausea.
Can you hear me?
Static cut out; a voice. Obviously Kang Ji-a.
“Yes.”
Good if you can. Lord, today’s the Charity Holy Mark ceremony, right? What time do you need to be there?
Her tone was calm. But her voice trembled faintly. For unflappable Kang Ji-a, that meant her situation was far from normal. Unease welled deep in my chest. Visions flickered.
“By 1 p.m.”
Time to get ready and head out. I don’t have much time, so I’ll just say what I need to—I mean, I’ll convey the message.
Her voice cut with static now and then. Poor signal—deep mountains or underground.
“Where are you?”
I texted the Satanist hideout location. Come after you’re fully prepared later. Not now. You must be ready.
“Where are you right now?”
Oh, Yun-ah likes uncooked food. She’ll eat sashimi or tartare. Use a shower towel for baths—it’s easier.
She ignored me, saying only what she wanted. Dread filled me like ink on blank paper, consuming everything. Squelching footsteps sounded.
Baal’s Maw—in the warehouse, right side, third drawer of the cabinet.
“Where are you?”
...I think that covers it. Thank you. Hanging up now.
“Don’t hang up.”
The call hadn’t ended. Her shallow breaths came through faintly. I grabbed my father’s box from my desk drawer and shoved it in my bag. School uniform would take too long. I changed into casual clothes I could throw on quick.
Lord, I’m really hanging up now...
“I’m asking. Where are you?”
......
Silence. I stormed out of the Worship Hall.
(To be continued)