Osratida - Chapter 16

In the end, Shinhee tucked the child spirit under his arm and ran deeper into the alley. It was a battle where he was vastly outnumbered. On top of that, wasn’t this the home ground of at least a hundred ghosts? It was a fight where everything was against him. He couldn’t possibly exorcise all the ghosts in the middle of the street, making his position even more disadvantageous.

The child spirit, who had been protesting earlier, telling him it was dangerous, remained silent now. Perhaps even he thought one ghost was better than facing a swarm of a hundred behind them. The farther they went into the alley, the louder the voice calling them grew. Shinhee felt like a starving mouse, fully aware that the cheese was poisoned but unable to resist taking a bite.

The voice that had been calling him stopped in front of a small store. The shop, unlit and without a proper signboard, appeared to be an antique shop, its window display cluttered with unidentifiable items. Was it closed? As Shinhee and the child spirit lingered in front of the shop, the old door creaked open on its own, as if inviting customers in.

The moment he stepped through the slightly open door, a porcelain doll on a glass shelf rolled its eyes with an eerie sound. The doll, its face cracked on one side, stared directly at Shinhee. When their eyes met, the doll grinned, baring its teeth.

“Heeheeheeheeheehee!”

Startled by the bizarre laughter, Shinhee spun around. A stuffed toy, its eyes wide open, bobbed its head while letting out chilling laughter. The shop was utterly unsettling. The interior, coated in dust from years without visitors, was filled with the ticking of clocks, the rolling of the doll’s eyes, the grotesque laughter, and the soft whir of a mobile turning in the dark.

And it wasn’t just the dolls. Every single antique in the shop seemed to be watching Shinhee and the child spirit as they cautiously stepped forward. They appeared just as tense as Shinhee, as if they knew exactly who he was and what he did.

For Shinhee, these were familiar items—haunted objects he had frequently encountered during his work in abandoned houses, old hospitals, and deserted schools. He had heard rumors about shops that dealt exclusively in these deranged objects, but this was his first time seeing one for himself. Who in their right mind would collect and sell such things? He was morbidly curious about the shopkeeper.

“Is anyone here?” Shinhee called out.

“This way…”

The voice leaked out from deep within the shop. It was no longer a sobbing tone but rather a metallic, grating sound, difficult to identify as male or female.

Click. The door opened, and the child spirit clung tightly to Shinhee’s hand. The prayer beads on Shinhee’s wrist buzzed violently, as though they were about to explode.

Creeeeak. The old wooden door, stiff from a lack of oil, opened to reveal a tiny room barely two square meters in size. On top of a low wardrobe, a monkey figurine screamed, clashing its cymbals aggressively as if to warn off the intruder.

“Shh.”

At a soft whisper, the monkey stopped instantly. The laughter from outside the door also ceased, plunging the room into silence. Shinhee’s heart pounded with rare tension.

The air inside reeked of rusted iron. Without the ability to rely on sight, his sense of smell and hearing sharpened instinctively. As if sensing his discomfort, the dark interior suddenly brightened with the light of candles.

“Welcome.”

The voice belonged to a surprisingly young man dressed in a dark kimono. He looked no older than a middle school student. With an inscrutable expression, the boy stared at Shinhee. Without letting go of the child spirit’s hand, Shinhee slowly approached him.

“Are you the one who called me?”

“Yes.”

Shinhee glanced around the dimly lit room. Inside rusted iron cages scattered around the room were animals making strange noises—judging from the sounds, likely rodents like mice or hamsters.

On the walls, illegible Chinese characters were scrawled haphazardly. What were they written with? Shinhee’s eyes widened as a stronger smell hit him. What he had assumed was the scent of rusted iron was, in fact, the smell of bl00d. What kind of place was this, and what on earth was going on here?

“I want you to help this one pass on,” the boy said.

“Pass on?” Shinhee asked.

“Yes, this one here.”

The boy extended a pale hand, pointing to a black cat with one missing eye. The cat, its fur bristling, glared at Shinhee as if it might pounce at any moment. Its glowing yellow eyes shone fiercely in the dark.

“I can only tear apart souls,” the boy said slowly. “But if I do that… they can’t reincarnate, can they?”

“Who are you?”

The boy’s metallic voice clashed with the vibrations of Shinhee’s prayer beads, creating a chaotic mess in his mind.

“You’re the only one who can hear my voice,” the boy said.

“I said, who are you!” Shinhee shouted, lunging forward as if to grab the boy by the collar. Tearing apart souls? Even the gods wouldn’t forgive such a heinous act.

But the moment Shinhee grabbed the boy’s clothes, an invisible hand seized his throat and lifted him into the air. Deprived of oxygen, his neck swelled with bulging veins.

“I could kill you with just a gesture,” the boy said. “But you can’t even touch me.”

“…”

“Start the passing ritual.”

For the first time in a long while, Shinhee truly felt he might die. Using all his remaining strength, he chanted a prayer while reaching out toward the invisible hand choking him. Just then, Shinhee was thrown violently to the ground. Gasping for air, he coughed as his lungs painfully readjusted to the sudden influx of oxygen.

“Don’t hurt Shinhee,” the child spirit said in a firm voice, meeting the boy’s gaze.

“You just need to help it pass on. I won’t bother you anymore if you do,” the boy said. “I’ll even reward you properly.”

Though hesitant, Shinhee eventually prepared to send the black cat’s spirit to the afterlife. The terrified cat trembled, its yellow eyes darting nervously as if it knew what was about to happen. Shinhee soothed it with gentle strokes and began chanting the prayer, enclosing the cat within a 30-centimeter radius to prevent its escape. The cat’s spirit gradually dissolved and vanished like smoke.

Shinhee silently wished for the tormented soul to find peace in a place free from pain and sorrow.

As Shinhee finished and stood up, brushing off his knees, he shot a wary glance at the boy in the kimono. The boy bowed politely in thanks, but Shinhee couldn’t drop his guard. After nearly strangling him, the boy was suddenly acting courteous? Shinhee couldn’t make sense of him at all. Was he a ghost, a human, or perhaps something else entirely?