신의 목소리를 듣는 아이 14화 밤의 방문자
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14화 밤의 방문자
할머니 옥분의 끔찍한 과거와, 명화 자신을 향해 뻗어오는 거대한 수마(水魔)의 저주. 그 무거운 진실이 신당 안의 공기를 납덩이처럼 짓누르고 있었다. 제단 위의 촛불이 산소가 부족한 듯 가늘게 파르르 떨리다 이내 위태롭게 일렁였다. 밤은 이미 가장 깊은 심연의 시간에 도달해 있었다. 평소라면 멀리서 들려와야 할 동네 개들의 짖는 소리조차, 오늘 밤엔 쥐죽은 듯 완전히 자취를 감추었다. 마치 마을 전체가 거대한 물속으로 가라앉아 완벽한 진공 상태가 되어버린 것 같았다.
"으으음..."
그 지독한 정적을 깬 것은 돗자리 위에 쓰러져 있던 준이었다. 미세하게 떨리던 소년의 눈꺼풀이 천천히, 아주 기계적인 속도로 밀려 올라갔다. 명화는 숨을 멈추고 준의 얼굴을 살폈다. 준이 의식을 되찾은 것일까. 하지만 자리에서 몸을 일으키는 준의 움직임은 산 사람의 자연스러운 반동이 아니었다. 마치 보이지 않는 굵은 실에 매달린 인형이 누군가의 손에 의해 강제로 끌어올려지듯, 상체 전체가 뻣뻣하게 수직으로 일어섰다.
Child of the Divine Voice: Chapter 14 — The Night Visitor
The terrible past of Grandmother Ok-bun and the massive curse of the Water Demon (Suma) reaching out toward Myeong-hwa herself. That heavy truth weighed down the air inside the shrine like a block of lead. The candlelight on the altar flickered feebly, as if starved of oxygen, swaying precariously. The night had already reached its deepest, most abysmal hour. Even the distant barking of neighborhood dogs, which should have been audible, had vanished without a trace tonight. It was as if the entire village had sunk into a vast body of water, entering a state of perfect vacuum.
"Uuuugh..."
It was Jun, who had been lying on the mat, who broke that suffocating silence. The boy’s finely trembling eyelids rolled up slowly, at a mechanical speed. Myeong-hwa held her breath and studied Jun’s face. Had he regained consciousness? However, Jun’s movement as he rose from his seat was not the natural reflex of a living person. As if a doll hanging from invisible thick threads was being forced up by someone’s hand, his entire upper body rose stiffly and vertically.
"Jun... are you awake?"
Just as Myeong-hwa tried to take a cautious step forward, Grandmother Ok-bun grabbed her wrist with a sharp grip and pulled her violently behind her back. "Don't go near him!"
At her grandmother’s warning, Myeong-hwa looked at Jun’s face again. Her heart felt as if it had dropped to the floor. There was no reflection of the candlelight in the eyes of the boy who had awakened. Jun’s eyes, which had turned entirely pitch black like ink—even the whites—looked like an endless swamp that absorbed all the warmth in the room instead of reflecting light. The boy held his chin at a bizarre angle, staring into the air with a vacant, unfocused gaze.
Chal-bak. Chal-bak. (Splash. Splash.)
It happened then. Outside the tightly closed door of the shrine, from the yard, a sickening noise began to be heard. It hadn't even rained, yet it was the sound of someone treading through mud that rose to their ankles, walking with bare feet. The hair on Myeong-hwa’s neck stood on end. There wasn't just one set of footsteps. Jil-cheok, chal-bak. Sssshhk. From all directions, the sounds of dozens of wet footsteps and heavy fabric soaked in water dragging across the dirt floor overlapped. They were slowly closing the net from all sides, targeting this very shrine where Myeong-hwa and Ok-bun were. The stench of rotting river water pierced their noses, snaking in through the cracks in the door.
The silver bell held tightly in Myeong-hwa’s right hand began to shake violently. Jing—jing, jing! A sharp vibration that felt like it was carving through flesh. It was an extreme warning sound, like a beast howling when it encounters a predator. The voice of the Divine struck Myeong-hwa’s mind like a lightning bolt.
[ The boundary is collapsing. Do not let them cross the threshold. ]
As if responding to the urgent divine command, Ok-bun picked up the sharp Shamanic blade (Mukal) that was lying on the floor and grabbed a handful of red beans and coarse salt from the altar. "These wicked things have finally crawled up, smelling the scent of blood, into the realm of the living!"
Ok-bun violently threw the red beans and salt toward the hanji (traditional paper) door. Ta-da-dak! Along with the sound, bizarre noises like the suppressed groans of beasts erupted from outside the door. But the footsteps did not retreat. Rather, they came right up to the door and began to exhale ragged breaths, with only a single sheet of thin paper between them.
In the pale moonlight reflecting on the white paper door, the swaying shadows of those standing outside were cast grotesquely. The massive shadow of an adult man, the shadow of a woman with a twisted waist, and even the shadow of a very small child. Dozens of shadows filled the paper, and soon, black mud stains began to seep through the door. Sssshhk, jjeok. Handprints, bloated and burst from being in water, began to frantically fumble and brush against the paper as if they would tear through at any moment. The door frame rattled, screaming as if it would break.
"Grandmother... the door... I think it’s going to open...!" Myeong-hwa whispered with a trembling voice, backing away. Ok-bun bit her own thumb to draw blood and was relentlessly drawing talismans on the door frame with red blood to seal the boundary.
In that suffocating moment of confrontation, Jun, who had been stiffly frozen in the middle of the room, slowly turned his head. Along with a ki-gi-gi-k sound as if bones were being displaced, Jun’s pitch-black eyes fixed on Myeong-hwa. The boy’s lips parted slightly.
"Myeong-hwa."
It was not Jun’s voice. It was a bizarre harmony, a mixture of the horrific friction of someone whose lungs were full of water gasping for breath, and the youthful voice of a nine-year-old girl she had seen in an old photograph.
"That child... is waiting for you outside the door." The corners of Jun’s mouth tore into a strange angle, forming a twisted smile. Black moisture dripped from the boy’s mouth. "Jeong-sun... says the water is too cold and lonely... and she’s hoping that you, her niece, will open the door."
"Cover your ears, Myeong-hwa! It is not Jun speaking through that mouth, but the old Water Demon lurking at the bottom of that river!" Grandmother shouted, brandishing the Shamanic blade with her bloodied hand.
But Jun’s parted lips did not stop. "Open it, Myeong-hwa. If you don't open it... we will tear our way in ourselves."
Kwa-chang! As soon as Jun finished speaking, a massive wrist covered in thick black mud burst through the middle of the paper door into the shrine. The blue light of the silver bell filled the room like a scream, and the most desperate siege of their lives was beginning.
📌 Preview of Chapter 15: "The Identity of the Voice"
Black river stench and bizarre hands rush in through the torn paper door. Grandmother Ok-bun fights back with a final soul-consuming incantation, but it is not enough. Then, among the dozens of voices flowing from Jun’s mouth, Myeong-hwa hears a very small, suppressed, real voice of 'Jun'. "Tell her... to stab me." Myeong-hwa looks at the silver bell in her hand. The cruel choice of a child awaits in Chapter 15.
📌 본 콘텐츠는 한국 무속과 민속을 모티브로 한 창작 픽션입니다. 모든 인물·사건·배경은 허구이며, 일부 어두운 묘사가 포함될 수 있습니다. 📌 This is a fictional creative work inspired by Korean shamanism and folklore. All characters, events, and settings are imaginary, and some passages may contain dark or intense imagery.
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