TMBIPYMEN Chapter 12

Layla didn't know when she'd fallen asleep.

But when she opened her eyes, everything around her was pitch black. Too dark, too silent. As if she'd fallen into a pit without any air, she couldn't hear any sound.

No, not any sound. Layla thought. At the same time, she could hear a low breathing sound. Yustar's breathing.

His lips, as he lay on his side, nearly touched Layla's ear. His lukewarm breath moved regularly, simultaneously brushing her ear and cheek. Wherever Yustar's breath touched, fine hairs stood on end and a faint trembling was felt.

For a moment, Layla had a strange thought. That if she reached out, she could touch his breath...

And that she could know what it was made of, what color it was, what form it took. It would probably be soft. Like his hair that had been fluttering in the wind.

—Strangle.

Layla's fingertips curled sharply. At the same time, her body, which had been lying on her back, turned sharply away from Yustar. But she couldn't see anything. Beyond the deep darkness, only the outline of the closed door was faint.

She thought that perhaps the door might never open. Why did she think that? Even though it couldn't be true.

Gasping for breath, Layla turned her body again to lie properly. 'I heard wrong.' Layla closed her eyes, trying to calm her heart. Closed them... and opened them again.

At that moment, two stiff, gaunt hands like dead branches seized Layla's throat violently.

—Strangle the throooat! Like thiiis!

Layla's eyes widened at the force of the strong grip holding her throat. Right before her eyes was a skull-like face.

The white eyes without pupils were so large they'd almost pushed down to the cheekbones, and between the horribly distorted lips, a tongue hung out at an angle, dangling.

"Gk...! Yus, Yustar..."

Layla's hand thrashed about on the bed. She struck Yustar's body with all her might, but he didn't wake. Layla was seized by a chilling thought. Could this thing have killed Yustar first?

—Aaaaah!

The ghost gripping Layla's throat opened its mouth wide, and something made a tearing sound between its jaws. Snap.

'There's a well stuck to the ceiling.' Layla thought. 'If I fall into that well, I'll never get out. Not alive, anyway.'

Crack. A sound came. The back of the ghost's head caved in, and the left side of its face grotesquely crumpled. The large eye, which even at first couldn't be called human—white and glistening like a slimy egg—slid further down and bulged out.

'No, if this continues...'

Her vision flashed. She couldn't get enough air and her heart beat rapidly. 'I might die.' Layla thought. 'If I stay like this, I'll definitely die.'

That won't do, will it, Layla?

Was it a sound in her head? Or did she actually hear it? Was it Yustar's voice? She didn't know. There was no time to think. First, I need to remove these hands. If I can't remove them...

Layla grasped the ghost's throat with all her strength. Now that she looked, its torso was stuck to the opposite wall, and only its neck was stretched out long like a writhing snake.

Holding onto the rattling, squishy 'thing's' neck, Layla tried to block the mouth that gaped open like a well's opening from swallowing her. But her hand touching the slippery, damp lips slid off and plunged right into the pitch-black mouth.

—Kiiiyaaaak!

It was a horrible sensation. As the long tongue wrapped around Laila's wrist like a living rope, she felt pain as if scratched by a wedge. Then, her vision went pitch black and suddenly flashed bright before turning gray, revealing a wavering scenery inside an inn room.

A woman was standing there. Standing before a mirror, looking at her own reflection, her expression was steeped in worry.

Unfamiliar noises from outside fueled her anxiety. She fiddled with the small diamond necklace around her neck to calm herself. 'It's okay, everything... everything will be fine.'

'She ran away. Together with a man...'

Layla thought. No, 'discovered' would be more accurate. Layla was approaching the ghost's 'core.'

When she realized this, the strength began to drain from the hands strangling her throat. Layla sensed the ghost was trying to flee to avoid showing her the core.

"You can't go!"

Gripping the gaunt wrist, Layla pulled the ghost even closer to herself.

—Aak! Aaa-aak! Don't look, don't look!

Layla bared her teeth like an angry wolf and slowly shook her head.

"No, I need to see."

A long scream was heard. At the same time, the crackling gray screen changed with a pop. The man the woman had been waiting for came.

They made love on this bed... and the diamond necklace swung from the woman's throat. It was the most precious of the valuables and money she'd brought when leaving home.

It sparkled. On the woman's skin damp with sweat, on her flushed skin... The moment the woman's senses soared toward their peak, the man's hands seized the woman's slender throat with all his might.

'No, no...! Gk...!'

The sensation of neck bones breaking came through directly to Layla's hands. Crack. And simultaneously, she could feel the horrifying sensation of her own neck breaking as well.

The man snapped the necklace from the woman's limp body and fled the inn with the rest of the luggage.

The next morning, Mrs. Nolren, who came to wake the guest who wouldn't answer no matter how many times she called, discovered the woman whose pale skin was covered in dark purple bruises and screamed.

Again. Layla closed her eyes and opened them. She saw Mrs. Nolren. It was the middle of the night. Or perhaps dawn. She rolled the corpse of the woman she'd hidden all day in sheets and threw it into a dried-up well behind the alley of the inn.

'Damn it, if you're going to die, go die somewhere else, why here of all places...! Trying to ruin someone's business! That girl looked out of her mind anyway, serves her right, serves her right!'

When the sheet-wrapped corpse crashed to the bottom of the well, there was a dull sound. Thunk. Layla grimaced, feeling blunt pain in the left side of her head.

The gray afterimages had all disappeared now. The ghost, caught by Layla, twisted its grotesquely distorted face back and forth, desperately struggling to break free. Dark handprints remained on its elongated neck.

Layla gasped for breath. 'Now what?' She'd seen the 'core.' But that was as far as it went. She could only see and hear. Eliminating this...

"Red thread in a basket, whose blood dyed it? That is your blood."

—Aaaaak!

The ghost's gaunt forearm crumbled like a charred branch with a snap.

When Layla got up and left the bed, Yustar—whom she'd thought was completely asleep—sat up, holding that small box. As if proposing marriage, he held the box out toward the ghost and spoke again.

"White clothes in a wardrobe, whose tears made them? Those are a daughter's tears."

—Shriaaaaaaa!

The ear-splitting scream was sucked into the small box. Something flashed. Glint. When Yustar closed the lid of the box, wailing sounds could be heard from inside very briefly but clearly.

Layla watched him sitting in the darkness with eyes wide like a startled rabbit. Eventually, Yustar opened the lid of the box. At the same time, pitch-black smoke undulated behind his shoulder once again.

'That thing again.' Layla thought. 'That's definitely something attached to him...'

"Yes, eat. But eat quietly."

Yustar said. At his words, the smoke enveloping his shoulder shifted briefly as if dancing. Layla knew it was 'laughing.' The smoke covered Yustar's hands holding the box.

Crack, crunch, crrrack...

Sounds like chewing raw flesh and bone continued. Between them, faint crying and screaming could be heard, and the sound of something like tiny stones breaking. She recalled the diamond necklace the woman had been wearing at the end.

When the 'smoke's' meal—though she wasn't sure if 'meal' was the right word—ended, Yustar let out a long sigh and brushed off his empty hands. Then he turned his head toward Layla.

Yustar smiled broadly.

"Sorry, Layla. I was late. I fell too deeply asleep..."

Layla's sharp question cut off his words.

"What are you carrying around with you?"

Yustar's eyes blinked soundlessly in the darkness. His face was strangely clear. The moment Layla hesitated, Yustar rose from his seat. She unconsciously stepped backward.

"Don't come near me..."

At the same time, a scratch sound was heard. The sound of striking a match. Yustar lit the wick that was almost reduced to ash, found the glass cover coated in a hazy layer of oil and placed it over the lamp.

When the room brightened, she felt somewhat relieved, but that didn't mean she was completely at ease. Layla spoke again.

"I asked you in the forest too. Those children... what you did with the children's souls. Who you fed those kids to. You didn't answer that question. Tell me now. That black smoke that appears near your shoulder... what is that? Are you feeding it souls?"

Yustar was staring at Layla with the eyes of a professor examining a student once again.

When he made that expression, he looked quite different from when he smiled gently.

His pale lime-green eyes seemed to dissect her completely. It felt chilling and made her shiver, as if a sharp blade was touching below her throat.

"Well, you got one thing right, Layla. About feeding souls."

"Why? Why do such a thing... what even is that? Is it a demon? Or another spirit?"

Layla asked, almost gasping. But Yustar's answer was beyond her expectations.

"I didn't realize you could see him so clearly. Black smoke... Laila, you truly have excellent eyes. To ordinary people, he's completely invisible, and even if they see him, they'd only sense that 'something seems to be wavering.'"

"That makes no sense! How could something so pitch-black not be visible!"

"They can't."

Yustar said in a firm voice. Then he suddenly smiled smoothly and swept his long, flowing hair behind his shoulder.

"But it's not a demon, Layla. Much less a ghost."