The Face at the Window
"Lee Jang-woo!"
Kang Hyeong-seok dashed into the room, shouting his name.
"Hah— hahk!"
Lee Jang-woo jerked off the bed in a spasm of terror, and the belt that had hung slack around him snapped taut, cinching shut around his throat.
"Kek! Grrk!"
Kang Hyeong-seok immediately threw his arms around the man's thrashing lower body and hauled him upward.
Then he glanced at Shin Jeong-ah. No words were necessary—she had already sprinted across the room, planted herself on the bed, and begun working the belt loose.
"W-wait!"
"No! No, don't!"
Lee Jang-woo thrashed harder than ever, but brute strength was never going to shake off Kang Hyeong-seok.
Klack! The buckle gave way and the belt went slack, and Kang Hyeong-seok dumped the man onto the mattress.
Then, pressing his weight down on the chest of the still-struggling Lee Jang-woo, he seized one arm.
"Section Chief!"
"Uh, uh!"
When Shin Jeong-ah piled her weight onto his other arm, Lee Jang-woo could thrash no longer.
"Hurk! Please— please!"
"Get a hold of yourself!"
"Pleeease! Fuck— just let me die!"
The sight of him sobbing and begging like that was deeply unsettling.
Kang Hyeong-seok glanced at Shin Jeong-ah, her face frozen in shock, then spoke to Lee Jang-woo in a level, deliberate voice.
"We've come to help you. I'm a shaman."
The response was immediate.
The strength drained out of Lee Jang-woo's body, and his eyes flew wide open.
"Wh-what?"
"A shaman. Did no one contact you?"
"N-no. No, nobody did."
Damn it all!
Shin Yo-sep would never have been late with word like this; clearly whoever was supposed to pass the message along had dawdled.
"Just breathe. We're here to help you."
"Huuh… huuh…"
Lee Jang-woo gulped down air, eyes still bulging, while Kang Hyeong-seok slowly eased the pressure from the arms pinning him down. Fortunately, the man didn't fight again.
"Hoo… hoo…"
Even in that brief span, a raw red ring had been left around Lee Jang-woo's throat. Rubbing at it, he pushed himself upright, and Kang Hyeong-seok and Shin Jeong-ah took up positions on either side of the bed.
Kang Hyeong-seok fetched a bottle of water from the motel's mini fridge.
"Here. Drink."
Lee Jang-woo eyed the two of them with open wariness before twisting the cap off and drinking.
Kang Hyeong-seok waited until the bottle left his lips, then spoke.
"Why did you try to do this to yourself?"
"Hnngh!"
"Take your time. Tell me slowly."
Lee Jang-woo shuddered, shoulders trembling, and bowed his head low.
"A ghost. A ghost, sir."
"A ghost?"
"Yes. Every night. Every single night, it comes for me."
Suddenly, as though even sitting on the bed had turned unbearable, Lee Jang-woo slid down onto the floor.
"There—from over there! Yesterday it crawled out of there and—my eyes, it just went like this!"
Lee Jang-woo flipped his own eyelids inside out.
Shin Jeong-ah grimaced, her imagination supplying more than enough of what must have happened, while Kang Hyeong-seok studied the headboard.
Fweeeeeet.
He let out a long whistle, and through the still-open door a man passed by in the corridor, shooting them a look that plainly asked, what the hell is going on in there?
Click.
Shin Jeong-ah shut the door, and Kang Hyeong-seok combed through the entire motel room—bed and everything else—before shaking his head.
"There's nothing here right now."
"A-are you a real shaman?"
"Yes."
Lee Jang-woo swallowed hard enough that his Adam's apple bobbed visibly.
Only then was Kang Hyeong-seok able to get a proper look at his face.
A construction worker, was it?
The man's skin was rough, swarthy from the sun in a way Shin Jeong-ah's never would be—but even years of weathering couldn't bury features that sharply cut.
"You operate heavy equipment?"
"Uh, uh-huh."
"I'm not asking out of a shaman's idle curiosity. I'm wondering whether this might be dongti—divine retribution."
"Ah."
Startled, Lee Jang-woo ran his fingers over his scraped throat and forced his lips open.
"Yes… that's right."
"Did you happen to disturb an old tree?"
"The foreman told me to cut it. What am I supposed to do when he says to?"
Kang Hyeong-seok drew a deep breath in through his nose, keenly aware of the bag slung across his back.
The sacred shaman bells were silent.
"If it's at all possible, I'd like you to come with us."
"N-no. I won't."
Lee Jang-woo refused as though he would sooner die than set foot there, and Kang Hyeong-seok pressed on, brow furrowed.
"So you'll just let that ghost torment you, night after night?"
"…"
"It ground you down so badly you put a belt around your own neck, didn't it?"
"Ngh, ugh."
Lee Jang-woo groaned, face contorted in misery.
"Whatever it is, it's better than being dead. Isn't it?"
"…"
"I'm not asking you to face it alone. Come with us."
Lee Jang-woo screwed his eyes shut.
He held his silence for a long, long moment before, at last, he managed a nod.
Vroooom.
The trip to the site where the tree had been torn out was made in Kang Hyeong-seok's car. He took the wheel, Shin Jeong-ah rode in the passenger seat, and behind them sat Lee Jang-woo, wearing the vacant face of a corpse.
"Um—would you like something to eat? I know we're past mealtime, but…"
"No."
Dark half-moons pooled under the eyes of the man who had cut down Shin Jeong-ah's offer like a blade.
"Haah…"
Shin Jeong-ah clicked her tongue in pity, while Kang Hyeong-seok watched the tunnel construction site looming in the distance. Machines everywhere—not a single worker in sight.
"It's been so hot lately that everyone's been knocking off early."
Lee Jang-woo mumbled at his own fidgeting fingers, gaze pinned downward.
Here was a man who had tried to tidy away his own life. Whether out of shame for that, or embarrassment at having skipped work without a word, he never once managed to lift his head.
Rrrumble. Kang Hyeong-seok brought the car to a stop and climbed out with Shin Jeong-ah. Then he opened the firmly shut rear door and coaxed Lee Jang-woo out with words alone.
"Where exactly was the tree standing?"
"O-over there."
Lee Jang-woo pointed to one spot. It was certainly a location where a tree would have gotten in the way of the work.
"Please stay with him."
"Huh?"
Kang Hyeong-seok tipped his chin briefly toward Lee Jang-woo, who was staring off somewhere else entirely, and said the rest with his eyes alone. In that state, there's no way I can drag him along.
"Ah—right. Got it."
Shin Jeong-ah answered with understanding, and Kang Hyeong-seok approached the spot where the tree had supposedly been uprooted, carrying nothing but the sacred shaman bells. The tree itself had evidently been cleared away long ago; not a trace of it remained.
Jangle-jangle!
Kang Hyeong-seok shook the bells as he swept his gaze over the surroundings—and then his brow knotted deep.
What is this?
He could sense nothing. Nothing at all.
The tree had been exactly what it looked like: a common scrub tree. No god had dwelled within it, no tragedy had tangled itself around its roots.
Damn it. If that's how it is, this just got a lot more complicated.
Had the tree been the cause, then scriptures like the Sutra of the Lone Tree, the Sutra of the Tree God, the Sutra of the Wood Sprite, or the Grove-Nurturing Rite would have held real power. But it hadn't been—and so none of them could resolve what was happening here.
Bzzzzz.
His phone rang with a call from Shin Jeong-ah. The moment Kang Hyeong-seok answered, her voice reached his ear from far across the site, little more than a whisper.
("Is it taking long?")
"Why? What's wrong?"
("No, it's just… he seems to be really struggling.")
He could see it even from where he stood—Shin Jeong-ah turning to glance back at Lee Jang-woo.
Right. There's nothing more to be gained here anyway.
Let's head back.
Kang Hyeong-seok started toward her, yet the crease between his brows refused to smooth out the whole way.
Why on earth are you doing this?
His Momjusin—the patron deity that governed his body—held its silence.
And that was precisely what made his heart so heavy: a third possibility, one he could not bring himself to speak aloud, was quietly lifting its head inside him.
Vroooom.
The ride home was heavy with silence. They were going back with nothing to show for the trip.
"Phew—!"
Shin Jeong-ah felt just as stifled and let out a long breath, while Kang Hyeong-seok cracked his stiff neck from side to side.
"It's weighing on you, isn't it? And if you say it isn't, you're lying."
Anyone who had seen the expression on Lee Jang-woo's face—the man they'd left behind at the motel—would have said exactly the same. He had clung to them, begging them not to go, and had only let go after Kang Hyeong-seok salted the room for him and taught him a simple warding rite.
"I don't think anything has ever gotten under my skin like this."
Murmured as though to herself, but it was a bid for agreement.
No reaction came from Kang Hyeong-seok, so Shin Jeong-ah shifted her gaze to him.
"Section Chief Kang?"
"…"
"What? Did you pick up on something?"
Tss. Drawing in a slow breath through his thin lips, Kang Hyeong-seok shook his head before speaking.
"It's nothing certain yet, but I'm thinking of contacting Shin Yo-sep."
"Huh? Why?"
"There are a few things I want to look into."
His brows were drawn into a shape that could only be called troubled, and he gave her a brief glance.
"Please don't let it trouble you too much either, Section Chief."
"Why? What makes you say that?"
"It's just… it may well be nothing but a baseless fear."
Steering the car toward Shin Jeong-ah's home, Kang Hyeong-seok spoke in a voice that was half sigh.
"I keep thinking—perhaps my Momjusin is telling me not to help that man."
"…Whaaat?"
"I know exactly how that sounds."
It was the kind of thing that came to a shaman as pure gut instinct. Like how your throat strangely parches at the scene of a death by fire, or how tears threaten at a place where someone was murdered in cold blood.
"To know for certain, I need information on this man, Lee Jang-woo."
"…"
"I'll take care of that part, so please, Section Chief—just keep your guardian talisman close. Don't forget it."
Shin Jeong-ah moved her lips without a sound, then slowly nodded.
By then they had arrived at her place, and Kang Hyeong-seok walked her to the curb.
"Get in safe!"
"Yes. I'll see you tomorrow."
Kang Hyeong-seok dipped his head to her, repeated one last time that she was to keep the talisman close, and drove off into the night.
"All that fuss over nothing…"
With a little snort of a laugh, Shin Jeong-ah went straight inside. She showered in hot water, grabbed a quick snack, and lay down in bed for a short stretch of leisure on her phone. Even then, the guardian talisman stayed clutched tight in her other hand.
What? It's already this late?
Shin Jeong-ah looked down in silence at the talisman in her hand.
Well—Section Chief Kang did tell me to keep it safe.
Ordinarily she would have dropped it into her bag and set that by her pillow. Instead, she opened the pillowcase and slipped the talisman inside. She wanted it as close to her body as it could possibly be.
Pom, pom!
She gave the pillow a few good pats, switched off the light, returned to bed, and closed her eyes.
She sank into deep sleep, and the hours slid by—well past midnight.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A white, palm-shaped handprint bloomed on the bedroom window.
Tap-tap-tap-tap.
The palm slid toward the left edge of the frame, as if trying to work the window open.
But the window did not open.
Tap.
Another handprint spread across the glass—
Thud.
—followed by the sound of a forehead striking it.
Then the imprint of a woman's face surfaced on the window, her features hideously contorted—as though being shut out filled her with fury, as though her failure to tear Shin Jeong-ah apart grieved her beyond bearing.
A face brimming over with pure, undiluted hatred.