The Serpent in the Rain
Bang!
The instant Kang Hyeong-seok kicked his way out of the village hall, torrential rain came hammering down on his head. He didn't even have the presence of mind to grab an umbrella — he simply ran for Seon the shaman — and behind him came the sound of Kim Jae-sik snapping one open.
"Hyeong-seok!"
Kang Hyeong-seok gave no answer. He ran on toward the shaman.
Slosh, slosh, slosh!
With the drainage hopelessly backed up, muddy water soaked his shoes clean through. Brown spray spattered him all the way to the knees as he hurried to a stop in front of her.
Slosh, slosh, slosh!
Kim Jae-sik caught up, gasping for breath, and held the umbrella out over him. All the while, Kang Hyeong-seok said nothing, his eyes fixed on the shaman standing there.
...She's been taken.
Standing blank and unmoving, barefoot with no shoes at all, she did not look right. Her complexion was as pale as a corpse freshly pulled from a coffin, her clothes hung in tatters, and the backs of her hands bore open gashes where thick branches had torn through.
"What? What's going on out there!"
Was it the commotion? Or had they sensed something? The villagers who had been peering through the windows came spilling out one by one.
"Wh-what the hell! Hey, what's wrong!"
The youth president moved to grab the shaman's body.
Snatch!
Kang Hyeong-seok caught his wrist. Without a word, his gaze never left her.
"You mustn't touch her."
It smelled of raw blood. That same reek he'd caught at the livestock shed was pulsing from this shaman's body now, too.
"A doctor — isn't there a doctor in the village?"
"N-now, hold on. M-Mr. Kim! Ajusshi! Hurry and fetch the doctor!"
"Uh, uhhhhh!"
One of them bolted off at once, and Kang Hyeong-seok carefully extended a hand toward the shaman. He had no sacred shaman bells on him — but a sutra he could still recite.
"Horn and Neck, Root and Room... Heart, Tail, and Winnowing Basket... Dipper, Ox, Maiden, Void..."
That was when it happened.
The shaman's clouded eyes suddenly moved, and her hands seized the hem of her shaman's robes. Then, before anyone could stop her, she hauled the fabric up and bared her belly.
"Wh-what the f—"
Shaaaaaa!
In the very heart of a village steeped in a grotesque atmosphere that even the torrential rain could not wash away, the villagers turned ghost-white at the sight of the shaman's stomach.
"Hoo... hooo..."
It was from the instant he laid eyes on her belly that every breath Kang Hyeong-seok exhaled began to freeze white.
Squelch!
The shaman's belly moved.
"Ugh! Uuuuuugh!"
"Wh-wh-what is that! What is that!"
"Sh-Shaman! That thing! Aaargh!"
The shaman's belly writhed so horribly that the villagers shrieked and cowered. It looked as though an enormous serpent lay coiled inside her, sliding along her innards — its movement plainly visible beneath the skin of her stomach.
And that writhing crept steadily upward. And then—
Guooooh—!
Out of the shaman's mouth it came.
"AAAAAAAGH!"
The youth president, closest of anyone, staggered back with a scream.
"Aagh! Aaaaagh!"
"Uwaaaaaagh!"
The villagers were all the same.
What had come out of the shaman's mouth was a jet-black serpent.
Sliiither! Sliiither!
Even Kang Hyeong-seok and Kim Jae-sik fell back, faces blank with disbelief at the gruesome sight. And still the serpent kept coming — kept pouring, endlessly, out of the shaman's mouth.
"Uwaaaaaaaagh!"
When the serpent slid toward the feet of the man who had crumpled to the ground, convulsions seized him.
Before long, the last of it slipped free — the serpent's tail trailing out of the shaman's mouth like a rope of shadow.
Schloop. Schloop.
The black serpent crawled on through the downpour. It was heading the way she had come — as though returning to wherever it had belonged all along.
"Agh! Aaaaagh!"
Even as he screamed, the youth president threw Kang Hyeong-seok a desperate look. That thing — that serpent — surely someone had to do something about it. Catch it, at the very least. Or please, couldn't you handle it somehow? That was what his frantic eyes were begging.
But Kang Hyeong-seok did not so much as twitch. He only watched the serpent recede.
It must not be provoked.
A snake that sowed calamity. If he needlessly agitated it, every single person gathered here would die.
Schloooop.
Cleaving through the muddy water, the black serpent vanished.
Then the man who had gone for the doctor came riding back toward them on a four-wheeled ATV. But it was already too late. Far too late.
SPLAT!
The shaman crumpled, sinking down as if collapsing to her knees. Sticky mucus and red blood drooled from her gaping mouth and mingled with the rainwater pooled on the ground.
Watching her, Kang Hyeong-seok parted his lips, voice low.
"Thus have I heard: once, the Buddha abided in the kingdom of Sravasti, at Jeta Grove in the garden of Anathapindika..."
Slosh, slosh, slosh!
The doctor came sprinting toward a shaman who was already dead.
"With him were gathered twelve hundred and fifty monks, every one a great arhat, known to all the assembly — the Elder Sariputra, Mahamaudgalyayana..."
As the doctor frantically examined the shaman, Kang Hyeong-seok's low chant went on and on.
A person had died. Again — and this time, right before his eyes.
The police came, naturally, and took statements from every witness. The interviews were held at the village hall, though — not at the station or a substation. Whether that was because most of the witnesses were elderly, or simply because there were too many of them, no one said.
"No, I'm telling you, I saw it — plain as day, with my own two eyes! A snake!"
The youth president bellowed in a huff, but the young policeman's face made it clear he wasn't taking a word of it seriously.
"Yes. Yes, sir."
"Yah, you insolent little pup! So now the likes of you won't even heed an old man's word?!"
"Aigoo, come on now, no need for that language."
This was supposed to be a peaceful country village. Everyone here knew everyone else — a single bridge was all it took to reach them, and they were neighbors besides. Maybe that was why the policeman's eyes, just before he left, looked so torn.
"Eyy. Tsk."
He brushed past Kang Hyeong-seok, staring at him the way one might stare at a culprit rather than a witness.
Blame? Or contempt for a man foolish enough to believe in superstition? Whichever it was, that look pressed down on an already heavy heart and made it heavier still.
"Head home once this is all wrapped up. Get back safe — and Mr. Kim, mind you don't slip. You hurt yourself badly enough last time."
"Yeh know, yeh know."
Once the police had withdrawn, the others began rising from their seats one by one. Then, without a word, they sent glances Kang Hyeong-seok's way. The difference in the feeling, the warmth, carried in those looks came down — surely — to whether or not they believed in the ways of the spirits.
"We're counting on you."
An old woman whose scalp showed in patches between strands of over-permed white hair pressed her palms together toward him. When he answered with a solemn nod, she sniffled hard and left the hall.
One by one they filtered out, until only two remained besides Kang Hyeong-seok and Kim Jae-sik.
"You ought to get some rest too, Chairman."
"Ah — yes, yes."
Beside the youth president, who answered like a man only half present, sat a young woman. Expressionless, with deep, unreadable eyes and her hair tied back neatly.
"I should... go. I should go."
The youth president rose to his feet, then turned to the woman beside him as though something had just occurred to him.
"Nak-yul, you see to those folks for me, y'hear? And when it's time to eat, fix them a proper meal inside, too."
"Yes."
The woman called Nak-yul dipped her head in answer, and the youth president came over to Kim Jae-sik and Kang Hyeong-seok.
"She'll be looking after you while you're here."
"Ah — no, that's really too much—"
In this day and age? A flustered Kim Jae-sik shifted in his seat, but the youth president only looked at him as if he didn't understand the objection at all.
"That girl cooks for the children at the school. Her cooking's good."
"No, still... Is there no one else? Or if you could just tell me where the kitchen things are, I could—"
"No. Just let her look after you, and lend us your strength."
I'm asking you as a favor — before one more of us dies...
The sincerity sunk deep in the youth president's words was more than enough to seal Kim Jae-sik's lips.
"...What in the world is making it rain like this."
Shooting an accusing glare at the window that had done nothing wrong, the youth president took his leave.
"Haah!"
Kim Jae-sik let a heavy sigh burst out of him in the emptied hall, then shot Lee Nak-yul a look of genuine, heartfelt apology.
"It's fine."
Lee Nak-yul said it without affect and rose from her seat. A moment later, Kang Hyeong-seok stood as well.
"Let's do it together."
Only after Kim Jae-sik's and Lee Nak-yul's gazes had converged on him did he add:
"Preparing all of that alone would wear you out. The two of us can finish twice as fast, and then you can go in and rest."
With the youth president's request hanging over her, backing out wasn't really an option anyway. So lending a hand and sending her off to rest even a little sooner seemed like the right call — and Lee Nak-yul only kept looking at him, as if the offer had caught her off guard.
"Does that make you uncomfortable?"
"No."
"I know my way around a knife."
When he said it with a small smile, she broke into a genuine one of her own and headed back toward the sink.
"Should I help too?"
Kim Jae-sik half-rose from his chair, and Kang Hyeong-seok immediately told him to sit back down.
"I'm the better cook here, Professor."
"I can do a bit myself, you know."
"I've yet to see you cook anything that isn't ramyeon."
"Nonsense. My soup's good. So's my rice."
"You mean the ones you reheat in the microwave."
"Yep."
"Just stay seated, Professor."
Kim Jae-sik sank back into his chair, sheepish, and Kang Hyeong-seok followed Lee Nak-yul into the kitchen.
She was already pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator. Kimchi, ham, dried anchovies, bean sprouts. Rice sealed inside a plastic bottle.
"Budae-jjigae — army stew?"
"Yes."
"I'll trim the ingredients, then."
Lee Nak-yul gave him a look that plainly asked whether he really knew what he was doing. But when it came to knife work, Kang Hyeong-seok was genuinely skilled.
Thock, thock, thock, thock.
While she washed the rice, he sliced the kimchi, layered the prepped ingredients into the pot, and filled it with the cloudy rice water. Then he dropped in the dried anchovies, gutted and cleaned.
"Will this do?"
"...Yes."
Lee Nak-yul — left with less to do than she'd expected — gave her answer, and Kang Hyeong-seok lit the gas stove and washed his hands at the sink.
Shaaaaaa.
Even now, the clamor of the rain kept drumming through the firmly shut window.
When, exactly, was this rain going to let up?
And before it did — could he resolve all of it?
He had drifted into the thought without meaning to, staring blankly at the window, when—
"Where do you live?"
"Sorry?"
"Your hometown."
With Lee Nak-yul watching him steadily from the side, Kang Hyeong-seok lifted the corner of his mouth.
"I'm living over in Gyeonggi Province."
"I see."
"Yes."
Lee Nak-yul slid her hands into her pockets and leaned back against the sink.
Some people show their entire history in their bearing alone, and Lee Nak-yul, right now, was exactly that. An impression of a life gnawing at her well beyond her years. A tired face. Eyes that looked all the deeper for it. Somehow she seemed like a woman who had spent no small share of her life in days exactly like this one.
"You don't seem like a bad person. That's the only reason I'm saying this."
"Sorry?"
Lee Nak-yul's eyes, which had been fixed blankly on the floor, came up to meet his.
"Leave this village before the holiday is over."
"...What do you mean by that?"
"That's how you stay alive."
Shaaaaaa.
The sound of rain. Nothing else reached his ears.
Because Lee Nak-yul said not another word — only kept watching him.