Mudoo - Chapter 5

It was dusk when Woo Seula had left. Unlike other parts of Seoul, Cheonghae-dong was pitch dark and utterly silent, not a single light in sight. Dong-gil, who’d been dozing in the yard all afternoon, hopped up onto the porch.

“Why’d you open that human woman’s spirit sight, huh? Why’d you do that?”

The rough voice broke the stillness. Tae-shin frowned slightly, remembering the daytime guest’s rudeness all over again.

“Because she was cheeky.”

“You petty bastard, petty bastard.”

Dong-gil scolded him, but couldn’t hide the smug look on his face. Apparently, he still hadn’t gotten over being treated like a puppy by Seula.

“Go eat.”

Tae-shin jerked his chin at a food bowl already piled high with kibble. Dong-gil trudged over and buried his face in it.

“Disgusting feed, disgusting feed…” he muttered between crunches.

“Can’t you switch back to the old food? Huh? It was oilier and tastier.”

“This one’s got better nutrients. Healthy food’s supposed to taste bad, you know that.”

“Still wanna eat tasty food…”

“Think about your age.”

Dong-gil shot him an icy glare even while munching determinedly through the kibble. Tae-shin just lifted an eyebrow as if to say, And what are you gonna do about it?

Despite the complaints, Dong-gil licked the bowl clean and padded back to Tae-shin’s side.

“Anyway, why’d you lie to that human woman like that, huh? Every single word, a lie, a lie. These days, people call that mouth-lies.”

Tae-shin let out a quiet snort of laughter.

“You’ve been sneaking looks at my smartphone again, haven’t you? Shouldn’t have set up Face ID for you.”

Sometimes, when Dong-gil was unusually quiet, it was because he’d be sitting on the porch, staring intently at Tae-shin’s smartphone. Watching him struggle to work the device with his blunt, clumsy paws was almost pitiful.

Now, caught red-handed indulging in his secret hobby, Dong-gil let out a small whine and muttered.

“Another world, a bigger world, worldwide …”

What kind of spirit beast was this, so up-to-date with trends? Tae-shin found himself wondering if there was such a thing as a smartphone just for dogs—obviously impossible, but the thought amused him for a moment.

Dong-gil, however, quickly circled back to the real issue.

“So why, why’d you feed that human woman all those lies? That she got Mudoo because she angered some spirit? That you don’t know who got mad or why? Ridiculous!”

He stuck out his tongue and panted, looking for all the world like he was laughing right in Tae-shin’s face.

“That Mudoo—you’re the one who caused it! You’re the one who caused it!”

For Tae-shin, summoning or banishing restless souls, opening and closing spirit gates—these were all ordinary tasks. Giving a human Mudoo was nothing to him. He often used it when calling forth a wandering soul through a shaman’s body. And once the spirit’s purpose was fulfilled, it was his job to cure the Mudoo too.

“Is it because she looks like Yeo-ok, huh? Is that it?”

Tae-shin, unwilling to explain, grabbed a book and flipped through it at random. But when Dong-gil pressed on, his eyes lingered too long on a single page.

“So that’s why you gave her Mudoo—to make her come find you, huh?”

He meant to stay silent, but now Tae-shin closed the book and met Dong-gil’s gaze.

“She doesn’t just look like Yeo-ok.”

“She’s the spitting image, spitting image! The face, the scent—exactly the same!”

“She is Yeo-ok.”

Dong-gil’s face twisted as if he’d just heard something utterly absurd. Then he shook his head over and over.

“…That’s impossible, impossible…”

***

Creeeak—creeak—creeak—

Strange sounds kept echoing through the house. It was the sound of someone walking across the old wooden floorboards—or maybe a door rattling in the wind. But that didn’t make sense; all the windows were closed tight, so there was no breeze inside.

The noise had started when Seula came home, showered, changed clothes, and began preparing dinner. The house was old, so odd creaks and groans were nothing new, but this was the first time the sound had gone on so long and so loudly that it got under her skin. She turned up the TV to drown it out, but the unpleasant noise easily cut through the voices of the show.

The house had a living room, a kitchen, a small bedroom, and a bathroom—nothing complicated. She searched every corner, even rummaged through the closet in her room, but found nothing that could be causing it. I’ll have to call the landlord tomorrow, she thought. It’s probably something with the pipes or the boiler.

Giving up on the battle with the noise, Seula switched off the light in the living room and headed into the small bedroom.

“Huh? Why isn’t this turning on?”

She pressed the button for the lamp next to her mattress, but nothing happened. She checked that the plug was properly in the outlet, pressed the button again—still no light.

“A power outage…?”

Relying on the moonlight trickling through the window, she walked over to the wall switch and flipped it up and down several times. Still nothing. It was strange—she’d just had the living room lights on a moment ago.

She went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. The light came on without a problem.

“Weird.”

I’ll tell the landlord about this too, she decided. An old house like this always had something breaking down at least once a month. It was why both the deposit and rent were so cheap—but still, it was a hassle.

Finally, Seula gave up, went back to the powerless small bedroom, and lay down on her mattress. The electric blanket wouldn’t turn on either, leaving the room icy cold. But once she pulled the warm comforter up to her chin, she quickly drifted off to sleep.

***

Creeeak—creeak—creeak—

Woken from a deep sleep by the shrill sound scratching at her eardrums, Seula fumbled around by her pillow for her phone. It was three in the morning. The creaking of the wooden floorboards was even louder than it had been before she fell asleep. She tried burying her ears under a pillow, but the noise cut through, sharp and clear.

Unable to bear it any longer, Seula rubbed her eyes and pushed herself upright.

“Where on earth is that sound coming from…?”

Then she happened to glance down toward her feet.

Thick, pitch-black smoke was rising, swirling into a shape. The dark smoke seeped through the cracks of the window, drifted in from the living room—it was everywhere. Gathering under the mattress, the smoke slowly began to take a clearer form: a head and torso, but no arms, no legs.

And it wasn’t just one. Two. Three. Four… The number kept growing.

She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs but felt, instinctively, that she mustn’t make a sound. Seula clutched her blanket into a ball and pressed it hard over her mouth, trembling uncontrollably.

Tears welled up, blurring her vision, but the dark shapes remained starkly visible. The floorboards groaned and shrieked—creeeak, creeeak— time with the paths the black smoke traced across them.

What are those things…!

Her mind reeled at the impossible sight, but the crushing terror—something she had never felt before— swallowed all other thoughts whole.