GODDESSBLESSYOUFROMDEATH, Case File 7: The Temple

The atmosphere inside the car was so quiet that only the breathing of the two people could be heard. Thup looked ahead before quickly lowering his gaze to the floor. The temple entrance was adorned with beautiful paintings and inscribed with the words “Santi Thammaram Temple.” But what Thup saw was not just beauty; spirits and ghosts, both in good and deathly states, were crawling and floating around the front of the car. As the car drove in, these spirits slowly retreated. The car stopped in front of the main hall with its golden roof reflecting a dazzling light, beautiful befitting a major temple in the area.

“Are you going to wait in the car?” Singha asked as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

The young man sitting with him slowly looked up and reached out to grab the young inspector’s shirt. Though the car’s air conditioning was cool, sweat was beading on Thup’s forehead, temples, and brow.

“Inspector… Can I ask for something?” Thup’s trembling hand and fearful demeanor puzzled Singha.

“What?”

“Please don’t leave me behind.”

The young man looked up at Singha with pleading eyes.

“Keep up if you don’t want to be left behind for real.” said Singha as he got out of the car, leaving the young man to take a deep breath before hurriedly following. The young inspector walked, gripping Thup’s shirt all the way.

The temple grounds in the afternoon weren’t crowded, maintaining a serene atmosphere typical of religious sites. The wind blew, rustling leaves, some whistling as they brushed against each other, making it a peaceful place for those seeking solace and a final resting place for the dead. Throughout their walk in the temple, Thup kept his eyes on Singha’s shoes, because looking up would mean seeing the spirits that wouldn’t move on, crawling and floating around the temple grounds. Some crawled on the ground, while others floated aimlessly. The abbot once said that spirits still lingering are those who haven’t found peace, perhaps due to unfinished business or unresolved desires. These spirits could still find a way to cut those attachments, but some lingered out of vengeance, unwilling to be reborn. It’s best to avoid these.

Suddenly, Singha stopped walking abruptly, causing Thup, who was daydreaming, to crash into his broad back with full force. The young man rubbed his chin, which had been pointing down, causing his face to collide with the older man.

“Sorry!”

“You walk so closely, you might as well be me.”

“Please, Inspector, don’t say that! If they hear you…”

“Rubbish, Thup. It’s just me. If this world has ghosts like you say, then I’ve got one too, still in this body. No other ghost is coming in. It’s ridiculous.”

Thup could only blink, having never heard anyone curse ghosts before. Maybe this was why spirits scattered whenever Singha passed by. He truly believed.

“Hey, what are you two doing here?” A monk, around forty or fifty years old, stepped out from his dwelling to greet them.

“Greetings, Venerable Sir. I have something to ask.”

“Ask? What about?”

“Have there been any new monks or temple boys recently?”

“New monks? No, we haven’t reached the summer ordination season yet, and no one’s come for ordination.”

The monk led them away from the dwelling towards the main hall.

“As for new temple boys, I’m not sure. You’d have to ask the temple committee.”

“Where can I find them?”

“Right now? If not discussing with the abbot, they should be at the charity kitchen.”

The monk gave them directions to the charity kitchen before entering the main hall for his duties.

“Thank you.” Singha bowed politely before leaving.

“They have a charity kitchen here, nice.” Thup mumbled, not catching Singha’s attention, but suddenly, a hand gripping his shirt pulled him back, forcing Singha to stop abruptly again.

“What’s with you, Thup?”

“Hold on a second.” Singha turned back, frowning, but upon seeing Thup sweating, his eyes low and trembling slightly, looking scared as if seeing something, Singha sighed.

“You’re really annoying.” he brushed Thup’s hand off his shirt, startling the young man nearly to scream. If Singha left him here, it wouldn’t be good. The figure before them wasn’t a ghost like in the dramas, pale and lanky with long hair covering its face. One side of his skull was caved in, an eye bulging out, lips torn to the ear, teeth missing showing the bloody mouth, the body contorted, wearing what seemed like a tattered uniform, likely from some accident. The remaining eye stared unwaveringly at Thup.

‘You see this, don’t you?’

   The icy tone made Thup’s hair stand on end, his legs barely moving. Singha brushed his hand away, leaving him wondering what to do.

As Thup stood trembling, Singha grabbed his wrist and led him forward confidently. Thup focused only on Singha’s hand holding his until they reached a large communal kitchen, with nothing following them.

“Oh, young man, you’re late. There’s another round in the evening, but there’s still some green curry left, want some?” a middle-aged woman greeted them warmly.

“Want to eat?” Singha asked the younger man behind him.

“No, thank you.” Despite being very hungry, Thup had to decline, not wanting to waste the young inspector’s time.

“It’s okay. I’m just here to see the temple’s monk. Do you know where he is?”

“Oh, looking for Abbott? He’s over there eating bananas.” The lady pointed to a man in a clean white shirt sitting by the door.

“Thank you. And could you also look after this kid while he eats?”

“Huh?” Thup tilted his head at the speaker immediately.

“Hungry? Eat up. I’m just hanging here.” Singha said, releasing Thup’s wrist and heading straight for his target.

“Hey there, young man, sit down. Auntie will fetch you some green curry noodles.”

“Thanks, Auntie.”

Singha sat opposite an old man engrossed with bananas in coconut milk. The old man smiled warmly as Singha sat down.

“Here for lunch, young man? It’s probably all gone by now.”

“No, I’ve got some questions.” Singha said, showing his police badge. The old man, after a glance, introduced himself, “I’m a temple official, my name’s Khuean, fifty-four years old.”

“I want to ask if there have been any new temple boys or staff in the past one or two months, or if anything unusual has happened?”

“Hmm, no new temple boys, officer. But for staff, well, the same old caretaker. No changes recently.” Singha nodded understandingly. “As for strange things, let me think… Ah, yes, on Wednesday, someone came to the temple and suddenly freaked out about ghosts, even knocked over the green curry pot, making a big mess. Luckily it wasn’t too crowded that day; we could manage with other dishes.”

“Do you recognize these people?” Singha laid out photos of seven victims.

“Oh, I know this one, Thee, comes regularly since his wife passed. This little girl, Kaew, plays here often; her house is across from the temple. This one, Jom, used to be a temple boy during school breaks and often took food from the temple. Wait, this is the guy who knocked over the curry pot!” Singha looked, seeing the old man pointing at a photo of a young man, nineteen years old. “So, what’s this case about, officer?”

I can’t say much yet.

“We’re still investigating. I’ll come back if I need more info.” Singha said, standing up and nodding respectfully. But when he looked around, the kid who had been shadowing him was gone…

Thup is holding a green curry bowl, his eyes scanning for a place to wash it. He spots a sink and a dish rack not far from the makeshift kitchen. He noticed earlier that Singha wasn’t around, and disrupting him just to wash dishes would surely earn him a scolding, so he ventures out alone.

Thup dumps chicken bones in the trash before turning on the tap to rinse a plate. Suddenly, the water turns red and thick, far from normal. He drops the bowl in shock, water splashing his face. Turning around, he encounters a spirit of a man with a caved-in skull, standing just inches away. Despite the close proximity, he feels no breath, only his grip tightens on his trousers. Though trembling, he tries to act normal.

‘You see?’

   ‘You see?’

   Thup bites his lip, gathers courage, and walks away, but the ghost follows slowly due to its twisted legs.

‘Motorbike’

   ‘Money’

   The voice, as if speaking through water flooding his mouth, repeats the same phrases. After a few steps, Thup feels multiple eyes on him. He tries to run but trips over something, falling and scraping his hands on rocks. Turning back, he sees various spirits, each with different death marks. He didn’t trip over a branch or rock but over the upper half of a human body. As Thup tries to crawl away, the lower half of another spirit inches closer.

‘You see, right?’

   ‘You see?’

   “Help me!”

‘You see?’

   ‘You see?’

   ‘You see?’

   ‘You see?’

   ‘You see?’

   ‘You see?’

   ‘You see?’

   ‘You see?’

   ‘You see?’

   ‘You see, right?!!!!’

   A hand grabs Thup’s ankle forcefully, but suddenly all the ghosts and spirits vanish, replaced by a grip on his shoulder, making Thup jump in fright, tears streaming down his face.

“Roaming around, huh, you kid?”

“Inse…hic, inspector.” Thup rushes into a hug, forgetting himself. Now, he just wants the warmth of a living person’s embrace, not the cold body of the dead.

“What’s wrong with you? You’ve got me all wet, you troublemaker.”

“Please, hic, let me stay like this for a moment.” He feels his heart racing as he rests his head on Singha’s chest. Just this. He just wants this.

After several minutes, Singha peels the ghost-seeing kid off him and, grabbing his shirt collar, drags him back to the car. Singha can’t help but roll his eyes at Thup’s sluggish demeanor and red, teary eyes.

“Give me your hand.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Did you cry so much that your ears went deaf? I told you to open your hand.” Thup complied easily by holding both hands out in front of the young inspector. The first aid kit was pulled from the back seat, and Singha started cleaning the wounds on his beautiful palms. Though not gentle, it was better than leaving it untreated.

“It hurts.” Thup mumbled softly.

“You claim to be scared of ghosts, yet you wander around alone. Do ghosts have trouble finding you or something?”

“I was just going out to wash the dishes for Auntie.”

“Are you waiting for the dishes to dissolve into thin air?”

“Sorry, Inspector.”

“And stop calling me by my title. Are you worried people won’t know who you’re with?” Singha pressed harder on the wound as he spoke.

“Then what should I call you?”

“Oh? What’s my name?”

“Inspector Singha.”

“Is Inspector my name?” His sharp eyebrows furrowed as the kid in front of him started to get on his nerves.

“…Singha.”

“Yeah.”

“Can I just call you by your name?”

Singha didn’t reply, just gave a fierce look.

“Um… can I call you Phii Singha?”

A phone rang, interrupting before Singha could respond. He handed the plaster to the young man and answered the call.

“What?”

[Hey Singha, the police commander knows about your case now because someone reported the file was accessed. He asked me, so I had to tell him.]

   “Eh, never mind.”

[The police commander has already sent an investigation team.]

   “Damn.”

[There’s more trouble, the commander sent King.]

   “That bastard!!!”

[Are you swearing at the police commander?]

   “Whatever. Just that!” Singha hung up before driving off from the temple at an excessive speed, causing the young man beside him to hurriedly secure all the equipment and fasten his seatbelt. It was clear that Singha was just as scary as any ghost.

 

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