400 years ago…
"Please…" a woman's whimper echoed in the quiet night of the forest. "Have mercy on me and my children. We do not know the person you were talking about."
She clutched her two children closer to her skirt, eyeing the young men surrounding her. A few torches were held up, casting a bright light on their snickers and the malicious gleam in their eyes.
She shook her head in fear, her shoulders trembling. "Please… don't involve the children. Do not hurt them, I beg you."
"Heh." One of the young men snorted. "Get the children."
At his command, the woman's pleading grew louder as she clutched her children as tightly as she could. The children screamed in fear, hugging her. However, as the men yanked them away, their grip tore a small part of her skirt.
"No! Please!" she begged through her sobs, struggling against the men's hold. Her eyes remained fixed on the two children, who were still screaming as they tried to reach out to her.
"No! Let us go!" one of the children shouted, biting the man who was dragging him.
"Ah!" the man winced at the bite, but after a second, his eyes flared with anger. He kicked the child. "You son of a whore! How dare you bite me?!"
The woman choked as she watched her son get kicked again and again on the ground. After a moment, a loud shriek erupted from her throat.
"Stop—enough! Please! No more! Please don't hurt him!!" she begged, but it was to no avail.
The young man kicked her son, who was barely five years old. Once his anger subsided, he yanked the child's arm and dragged him toward the river.
The woman screamed and tried to free herself, but a powerful jab to her stomach stopped her cold.
She didn't know why or how, but eventually, all those men let her live. Perhaps because she had begged them to kill her after they defiled her one after another all night. They found more pleasure in watching her suffer than taking her life.
Her clothes were torn, blood staining the fabric as proof of the brutality she endured that night. Bruises marred her exposed skin, her long hair a tangled mess.
Dragging her feet to the river, the sound of water echoed in her ears. However, unlike what one might expect from the continuous flow of water, what graced her eyes was far from peaceful.
Thud!
The woman collapsed to her knees, tears falling down her cheeks. There, she saw the bodies of her children—heads submerged in the shallow water, the rest of their limbs limp on the riverbank.
Her lower lip quivered. She couldn't even blink as she took in the horrific sight. Her heart broke and sank, her breath constricting with helplessness.
Using every ounce of her remaining strength, she crawled toward their bodies. She reached out and gathered them in her arms, hugging them tightly and rocking them gently.
"Forgive me… forgive me…" Her quiet whimper eventually gave way to loud, anguished screams.
She screamed and sobbed until blood coated the back of her throat. Yet, no matter how many times she screamed, the anger, helplessness, and sorrow only grew. They didn't subside—not even the slightest.
Her screams only ceased when her voice gave out. In the end, she quietly sobbed, holding her children protectively.
Drip… drip…
The woman's brow furrowed as she slowly turned to the river by her side—the river, the only witness to her children's death and the destruction of her life in one cruel night.
"I… will not rest…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "As long as this river exists, and all of them—even their descendants—are alive, I will not rest."
A quiet determination flickered in her eyes, burning with vengeance and sorrow.
SPLASH!
When dawn finally broke, the quiet river continued to flow, and they were gone.
---
[PRESENT TIME]
The two ghosts paced back and forth near the tree, with the female ghost noticing the tree's withered spot where the Blood Chain had wrapped around. Meanwhile, the male ghost nervously rubbed his hands, eyeing the river.
The water had quieted, and the current now streamed continuously.
Still, there was no sign of Mikel.
"Hey, how many minutes does it take for someone to survive underwater?" he asked, glancing at his partner.
She snapped back to the present moment and glanced at the river. When she turned back to him, she shrugged.
"Beats me," she replied. "You were the one who drowned. How long did you last?"
He frowned. "Are you being funny right now?"
"I wasn't," she pouted. "All I'm saying is—"
The rest of her words stopped in her throat when they heard a sudden lashing sound. They turned and saw the Blood Chain emerging from the river on the far side. It wrapped around a tree, and following the other end of the chain was Mikel.
"Boss!" the ghosts called out in unison, hurrying toward where Mikel landed.
"Boss!" they called again, stopping just a step short of where Mikel lay.
Their hollow, pale faces filled with horror as they stared at Mikel, who was lying motionless on the grass. He wasn't moving and didn't appear to be breathing. His lips had taken on a slight purple hue. The only movement he did was when the Blood Chain whipped back around his wrist.
"Boss!" the female ghost cried, clutching his bag as she knelt beside him.
The male ghost also called out, crouching on the other side. "Boss, are you alright?"
"Oh no! I don't think he's breathing!" she panicked. "What do we do? What do we do?!"
As dread and panic crawled up their spines, Mikel suddenly gasped.
Cough… cough…
Mikel coughed out the excess murky water and some weeds before rolling onto his side. He gasped for air, inhaling deeply.
The two ghosts let out a collective sigh of relief as they plopped onto their butts.
"Oh, goodness!" she patted her chest. "That scared me for a second. Boss, I thought you were dead!"
The male ghost huffed sharply but kept his thoughts to himself. Though his words would have been the same as his partner's.
They had been accompanying Mikel on his nightly errands and had observed his reckless behavior. But tonight, he had been particularly reckless.
Meanwhile, Mikel ignored their nagging as he continued gasping for air. When everything finally calmed down, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.
For Pete's sake… how can I unsee that?
Perhaps it was instinct, or perhaps a growing awareness, but Mikel quickly realized that the usual chant wouldn't work here. With that level of power, he knew he had to exorcise the ghost in the same way he had exorcised Lawrence Gatsby.
Meaning, he had to walk through the river ghost's memories. He had to feel her pain, sorrow, and anger—her memories, so that he could take ownership of them. It still didn't feel good, seeing the world through her eyes, even if she had died 400 years ago.
Damn…
Mikel winced and slowly reopened his eyes. The two ghosts were still complaining, but he ignored them and turned his head toward the river.
"Huh?" he whispered, his brows furrowing. "That's…?"
The ghosts raised their brows. Curious, they followed Mikel's gaze, and their eyes widened as they saw a body floating in the river, its back facing upward.
The female ghost blinked, eyes fixed on the body's white polo. For some reason, her gaze flicked to the male ghost, who was wearing the same shirt.
"Is that… is that you?"