Do Not Come Here
When Yeo-won opened her eyes again, she was inside a car.
The occasional jolts told her they were moving somewhere. In the front seats, a man and a woman were chatting together with warm affection.
A reassuring voice…
It felt somehow nostalgic and kind. Then the woman turned her head and smiled at her, and Yeo-won muttered in disbelief.
“Mom… Dad…”
Her mother and father were right in front of her. The parents she had never even seen in her dreams were smiling at her.
At that faint, distant sight, Yeo-won reached out her hand.
In that instant, a deafening roar tore through her eardrums. A violent crash shook her body like mad.
Yeo-won!
At her mother’s scream, she forced her eyes open. Her mother was holding her tight, while her father’s face was buried in the airbag beside them.
The white airbag slowly soaked with blood, and droplets began to fall to the floor with soft, wet sounds.
The hand that had been gripping her so tightly slipped away. Blood ran down her mother’s arm and dripped onto Yeo-won’s lap.
The sensation of that warm liquid was painfully vivid.
In that moment, the past she had buried rose up again.
It was the day her parents had died.
The day they were hit by a truck coming from the opposite lane. Her father never let go of the steering wheel until the end, and her mother had unbuckled her own seatbelt, turned around, and held onto Yeo-won until her final breath.
Yeo-won’s vision, flickering in and out, dropped to the floor. A pool of blood had gathered there. The metallic smell that filled her lungs with every breath snapped the last thread of her sanity.
“Aaaaaaaaah!”
Yeo-won clutched her head and screamed. The scene changed in an instant.
Beyond her trembling arms, she saw a familiar layout. It was her grandparents’ room in the Inwol house.
A heavy cough sounded beside her. When she turned her head, she saw her grandfather sitting in the corner with his back to her grandmother, who was lying down.
Cough, cough!
Every cough made his frail shoulders shake. His body hunched lower and lower, revealing the depth of his pain.
“G-Grandfather.”
Yeo-won crawled toward him on her knees in a panic.
When she unconsciously reached out, she caught sight of a blood-soaked tissue over his shoulder.
“Hic!”
Yeo-won gasped in horror and staggered backward. A faint murmur reached her.
…That’s a relief.
Her grandfather gave a faint smile, then collapsed with a heavy thud. Her grandmother, startled by the noise, sat up from the blankets and found him on the floor.
Old man, what’s wrong? Wake up! Old man!
Her grandmother screamed and shook him frantically, but he didn’t move.
In the end, her grandmother collapsed onto the floor, clutching her chest and beginning to wail.
Yeo-won could only stare helplessly at her grandmother’s deathly pale face and her fallen grandfather, tears dripping down her own cheeks.
It was the day her grandfather had died.
That morning, he had suddenly told her to sleep at the neighbor’s house. When she asked why, he said it was because he needed to dry chili peppers.
Drying peppers often filled the entire yard and still left no space, so they sometimes spread them inside the rooms. Yeo-won had gone to Grandmother Yoon’s house without any suspicion.
That day, like any other, her grandfather had stroked her hair and given her snacks.
It had been an ordinary day like any other.
Until early the next morning, when Grandmother Yoon woke the sleeping Yeo-won and told her that her grandfather had passed away.
“Hic… Please, stop. Stop it.”
Yeo-won covered her eyes and trembled as if seized by a chill.
It had always weighed on her mind.
Whether her grandfather had sent her away that day by mere coincidence, or whether he had sensed he was going to die.
She had prayed desperately that it wasn’t the latter. It couldn’t be.
If her grandfather had known he was going to die…
She didn’t think she could bear knowing what he must have felt when he sent her to the neighbor’s house.
While she sat there blankly shedding tears, her wailing grandmother suddenly lifted her head and stared straight at Yeo-won. Her eyes were filled with poisonous rage.
“This is all because of you.”
Yeo-won flinched. Her grandmother shot to her feet and stormed over.
“You evil spirit! It’s because of you!”
The scream froze Yeo-won in place. At the same time, her grandmother’s face darkened to black.
“It’s all your fault! Because of you! My son and my husband are dead!”
“…”
As her grandmother pointed and hurled curses, Yeo-won simply listened in silence.
She didn’t cover her ears. She didn’t close her eyes.
She only looked up at her grandmother with lifeless, resigned eyes.
…She might be right.
Ever since the day Shin-wol had told her about the marble, something had been bothering her.
Why had her ancestor stolen the marble even though it meant betraying Shin-wol?
Why did she do it? They were supposed to be so close.
No matter how hard she tried to suppress the question, she couldn’t help wondering.
Shin-wol had said the only reason her grandmother, whose time had already come, was still alive was because of the spiritual energy inside the marble.
If that was true, perhaps her ancestor Mun-a had stolen it to save someone too.
That thought made her ancestor’s actions understandable.
But the questions multiplied, growing larger and larger.
Could a human even use a marble that held such immense power without consequence?
Could something so sweet, tailored to human greed, truly exist without a price?
Anything too sweet eventually sickens the body.
After meeting Shin-wol, Yeo-won had kept searching for information about gumiho.
In both legends and online sources, gumiho had appeared since ancient times, and those stories always came with marbles and curses.
Divine punishment and a curse placed upon lowly humans who dared covet what belonged to the gods.
Her scattered thoughts suddenly clicked together like puzzle pieces.
Then was seeing ghosts itself the curse? She wanted to believe that was the answer.
No. That’s not it.
In truth, she had only been pretending not to know. Seeing ghosts could hardly be called a curse. It was far too weak to bear that name.
If it wasn’t that, there was only one other possibility.
My family dying…
Yeo-won desperately denied it. She didn’t want to accept it. The moment she did, she wouldn’t be able to endure it.
That would mean she really was…
Like an evil spirit.
Her grandmother reached out and grabbed Yeo-won by the throat.
“Die! Just die already, you thing!”
Her grandmother’s face changed from her mother’s to her father’s, and finally into her grandfather’s.
The crushing pressure made Yeo-won choke and gasp in pain.
Her hand, which had been trying to pull her grandmother’s away, froze in midair. After staring at her grandmother for a moment, Yeo-won let her hand drop with a look of complete surrender.
Maybe… it would be better to die here.
There was nothing good waiting for her if she went back. She was so tired now. She didn’t have the courage to kill herself, so maybe it would be better if…
The moment she gave up on everything, her vision went dark. When she opened her eyes again, a pure white space stretched out before her, different from before.
In the vast emptiness, she stood all alone. When she breathed out, a white puff of air appeared.
It’s cold…
The bone-chilling cold made Yeo-won wrap her arms around herself. Her strength gave out and she sank to the ground. Then laughter came from somewhere.
She turned toward the sound. In the distance, she saw her mother and father. Her grandfather stood beside them.
Her parents were laughing happily as they talked with her grandfather.
This place was so cold and lonely, but where her family stood, sunlight poured down and it looked warm.
Yeo-won staggered to her feet and began walking toward them.
“Take me too…”
Take me with you. I want to be there too. I’m too tired to keep living here. I’m sorry, Grandmother.
She wanted to run to them quickly, but her feet felt as heavy as stones and wouldn’t move properly.
“Mom, Dad… Grandfather.”
Please look at me. Please.
Her desperate wish must have reached them. Her grandfather turned his head toward her.
Their eyes met. It was the same face she had loved so much in the past.
Yeo-won burst into tears like a child. Her vision blurred from the tears as she looked at the family she hadn’t seen in so long. She wiped her eyes and kept walking toward her grandfather.
She wished he would stroke her hair.
She wished he would call her his puppy.
She wished he would tell her she had done well, enduring and holding on all this time.
Dragging her heavy legs, the exhausted Yeo-won took rough breaths and lowered her head.
When she had come close enough to see his expression clearly, she looked up with a bright smile.
She was so happy that she could finally reach them. But when she looked forward, her grandfather’s face was horribly twisted.
It looked like sorrow, and also like anger. Her heart sank.
Why? Why is he making that face?
Her grandfather… Of all people, her grandfather should never…
When Yeo-won stopped walking and stood still, a faint voice reached her.
“…Ma! …Don’t… come!”
What is he saying? Grandfather, I can’t hear you.
She moved her lips to answer, but no sound came out. Panicking, Yeo-won clutched her throat.
Her grandfather kept trying to say something.
The moment she took another step closer, a thunderous roar pierced her ears.
“Where do you think you are? Don’t come! Don’t come here!”
Her grandfather was shouting desperately. Then her mother and father turned to look at her too. Their faces were both familiar and strange, but they smiled with a sadness she couldn’t quite place and waved at her.
As if saying goodbye.
Her family slowly began to move away.
Yeo-won shook her head with a devastated expression.
No. No. I don’t want to be left behind. Please don’t abandon me.
When she tried to run after them, someone suddenly grabbed her arm from behind.
The faint scent of apricot blossoms drifted from behind her.
When Yeo-won turned her head, a small child was now standing there.
“…!”
Let go! Let me go!
She moved her lips frantically and tried to shake off the hand, but the grip was too strong.
“…You can’t go that way.”
Who are you? Why won’t you let me go!
Even while she struggled, her family kept moving farther and farther away.
She screamed silently, looking back and forth between the child and her family.
Despite her desperate thrashing, her family completely disappeared from sight. Her legs gave out and she collapsed on the spot.
Tears kept falling. They flowed so heavily that she thought she might die from it, soaking her face, but the emptiness was so great she didn’t even think to wipe them away.
“…I’m sorry.”
The child spoke. Half of her face was hidden in shadow so Yeo-won couldn’t see her clearly, but the trembling voice suggested the child was crying too.
Yeo-won moved her lips again.
Who the hell are you? Why are you getting in my way?
When she glared with eyes full of accusation and resentment, the child hung her head and trembled. Her hair was neatly braided, and she wore a dark blue hanbok.
There was something strangely familiar about her. Yeo-won blinked.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”
The child apologized again and again, shedding tears. Clear droplets fell onto her small, tightly clenched fists.
“It’s shameless of me, but I have a favor to ask. Please, this time…”
The child swallowed the rest of her words, then raised her arm and pushed hard against Yeo-won’s shoulder. It was a very weak push, yet Yeo-won’s body tilted backward and began to fall.
Even as she fell endlessly into the pitch-black abyss, she never saw the child’s face.