Chapter 15
Chapter 15
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Mountain Lodge on the Dokkaebi Site (2)
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“So, what story did you hear?”
“That mountain lodge is famous on the internet. So...”
Worried that Dong-jin might get scolded, Na-rae jumped in.
“Grandpa, what did the person who carved something on the door look like?”
“She was a tall foreign woman with short curly hair. Her name was ‘Ran.’ She came with a small, pretty blonde girl. She spoke our language so well that I thought she was mixed.”
Na-rae glanced at Dong-jin before asking again.
“How did you know she wasn’t mixed?”
“You can tell just by looking. Obvious. Why ask? She came at night, carved something on the door, and left. Worried she might be hungry, I took her home and boiled some ramen. First time she’d tried it. So I asked when she’d arrived, and she said a few days ago from Germany.”
The old man took off the watch on his wrist and showed it to Na-rae.
Na-rae spotted the eerie inscription on the back of the watch.
The old man continued.
“She made me swear not to go into the room at the end of this floor and gave me this watch. Works great, too.”
“Nice watch. That inscription looks like a talisman. You should keep wearing it.”
The old man believed this watch was why he’d managed the lodge for over a decade without incident.
“Yeah, she told me to always wear it. She came by a few days ago, too. Time’s passed, but she hasn’t changed a bit. The girl hasn’t either. She’s about this tall. Name’s... ‘Rosen’?”
“If you see that Ran woman again, could you tell her we stopped by?”
“Sure, if I run into her. Why? Problem?”
“No, please go on with your story.”
“Where was I...”
The old man thought for a moment, then picked up again.
“Right! Starting from when Byung-chul and his friends came down?”
A smile lit his face as the memory hit him.
“Yeah. Eighteen years ago. Byung-chul and five others—three guys, three girls. Turns out they weren’t wives, just girlfriends. Not affairs or anything; guess none had married yet. Byung-chul wasn’t even forty then.”
The old man began recounting the tale from memory.
* * *
It rained hard that night.
Sky was clear all day, then poured buckets.
I still remember it.
Worried the stream might flood, I headed out at dawn.
From here on, it’s just what Byung-chul told me.
Even if something seems off, that’s not my take.
It was May then, same as now.
Byung-chul and his friends must’ve loved the lodge’s old-school vibe.
Plenty of bedrooms on this floor, furniture in every room—nothing lacking.
They’d come for the weekend, so they were relaxed. Picked rooms, unpacked.
The room at the end of the hall—no window, too cold—no one wanted it.
Rain killed the outdoor barbecue, so they grilled pork belly in the first-floor living room.
May, but chilly with the rain.
They’d brought firewood for the grill, moved it inside to keep dry.
Byung-chul, in the middle, ran out of smokes. Heavy smoker—can’t stand it without.
Usually kept a carton in the car, but not that day.
Grabbed an umbrella, crossed that stream to Grandma’s corner store here...
Heading up the mountain path from the upper village to the lodge, he saw someone standing there.
Too dark to tell man or woman.
Could’ve flashed his light, but didn’t want to be rude.
As Byung-chul got close, they vanished. Path’s a dead end—no way out but up to the lodge, I figure.
Got to the lodge, and Byung-chul’s friend... uh, let’s call him Gap-dol for simplicity.
Gap-dol had lit a fire in the living room fireplace.
Byung-chul asked the guy who’d started it.
“Must’ve been tough to get going. How’d you do it?”
First time seeing the fireplace lit—probably cool.
Gap-dol held up a calendar and said,
“Found an old one under the bed. Used it for kindling—caught right away.”
While sorting their rooms, Gap-dol’s girlfriend found the calendar.
Gap-dol’s girl, so let’s call her Gap-sun.
Byung-chul saw it was a rare almanac type.
You know, thick ones marked by day, tear off one sheet at a time.
But no tear marks—except what Gap-dol had ripped.
Can’t use a wall calendar without tearing, but only his tears.
Byung-chul didn’t think much, but peeked—1963 calendar.
“Whoa, this thing’s ancient. Younger than me by a couple years.”
Byung-chul just said it offhand, but his girlfriend Byung-sun scurried over to check.
Byung-chul’s girl, so Byung-sun.
I don’t know her name.
“Yeah, two years younger than you, oppa.”
Then Byung-sun, flipping the calendar by the fireplace, suddenly screamed.
“Agh! What’s this?”
Byung-chul grabbed it at her scream—daily scribbles on every page.
Early parts nothing much, but around April.
April 3 had black spots.
Eerie black, size of black beans, a few.
Next page, more spots.
Kept increasing—by May 17, covered in black.
May 17 to June 2 stuck together.
“What the hell?”
Byung-chul felt it stick to his hand, flung it down.
“What’s up?”
Gap-dol and Eul-dol asked, but Byung-chul just pointed.
Gap-dol, who’d used it for kindling, felt guilty, picked it up.
“What the fu—? What’s this?”
Probably something like that.
Gap-dol chucked it, backed away, pointed at Eul-dol.
Your turn.
“This blood? Ew, blood on a calendar. Huh? Why?”
Eul-dol, who ran a butcher shop, said while flipping.
The black soot was dried blood.
* * *
The old man stood up here.
“Drank too much makgeolli... Be right back after the bathroom.”
Back from the bathroom, he resumed.
“Where were we? The calendar? Tear-off kind.”
He paused, then continued.
“After Eul-dol spoke, Gap-dol and Byung-chul crouched to check. Seeing it as blood, the hard black crust looked just like dried blood.”
The old man lowered his voice to Na-rae, who listened intently.
“Byung-chul got curious about the stuck pages from May 17 to June 2. Wanted to peel, but no guts—looked to Eul-dol.”
“And?”
Dong-jin asked.
“Eul-dol had the steadiest nerves, so he carefully peeled the stuck spot.”
Miming tearing the calendar, the old man’s eyes widened.
“But on May 18 at the top, black ink words:
[Today I tore the mouths off the noisy things.]
That’s what it said.”
“What’s it say?”
Dong-jin cut in, unable to hold back.
“Who wrote it?”
“Beats me. How should I know? Just what Byung-chul told me—probably someone in the lodge in 1963.”
Downed a shot of makgeolli, continued.
* * *
“Agh! Oppa! A person wrote this?”
Girls freaked, backed away; Gap-dol yelled too.
“What the fu—? What’s this? I ain’t reading.”
“Hey! Come back! No need to freak. Someone’s prank. People don’t bite mouths off.”
Byung-chul, the lodge owner, stepped up bravely.
Made sense to everyone.
Gap-dol sat back down.
“Yeah, sounds right. Let’s flip the next.”
Eul-dol carefully peeled the next.
May 19: nothing written, just black mess.
May 20: same.
Nothing for a stretch, then June 1:
[Her resentful glare pissed me off, so today I laid her head on the calendar and gouged her eyes.
Pressed her head so her screaming mouth couldn’t thrash.
About ten minutes, she went quiet.
Grabbed the next one, did the same.
Wonder what she’ll say when she gets back.]
Top of the page.
How do I remember so well? I’ve seen it.
That’s later—back to the story.
Dong-jin interrupted again.
“Wait, didn’t a Japanese guy live there? How’s it in Korean?”
“Dunno... Japanese didn’t last a year. No clue if he wrote it or someone after. I’m just relaying—save questions for the end.”
Resolved not to let Dong-jin interrupt, he went on.
* * *
Byung-chul’s group read, got chills all over.
Prank or not, if Eul-dol was right about blood, way too much.
Gap-dol shivered, said,
“Gotta keep reading?”
“Too late to stop.”
Bold Eul-dol grumbled, went to flip, paused.
“If someone put a head on it and gouged eyes, blood should’ve soaked pages after—but only one stuck. Total prank.”
“Yeah, makes sense. We overreacted. Like those ‘look here’ tricks that end ‘gotcha, just kidding.’”
Gap-dol perked up.
Everyone bought Eul-dol’s logic, gained confidence, kept checking.
June 3 bottom:
[Why read someone else’s diary?
Am I not scary?]
Like that.
“Whoa! Haha, see? Told you. Next’ll say ‘look here.’”
“Totally classic horror gag. Haha.”
They took it as a joke now.
June 6 had writing, different tone.
[She came back.
Sister looking for her kittens asked me.
Told her they’re in the storage room end of this floor.
Angry screams from this floor.
Swore she’d kill me someday.
Sister buried cat bodies under yard tree, left cat stuff at shrine.]
Longer, vivid—Byung-chul startled.
Others hadn’t seen yard tree or shrine, but Byung-chul ordered them gone—knew.
“Not this place? No yard shrine or tree.”
“Yeah, written somewhere else. False alarm.”
Gap-dol and Eul-dol relaxed.
But Byung-chul’s words hushed the room.
“It is. Lodge used to have shrine and old tree in yard. I had ’em removed.”
Girls screamed to burn it.
Guys talked; Eul-dol pushed to read more, so they did.
June 8 had another note.