GODDESSBLESSYOUFROMDEATH, Case File Preface: Case Opening

In Thailand, we’ve always been taught that we can freely choose our religion. Everyone has the right and freedom to believe in whatever they desire. It’s common to hear that Thailand is a Buddhist country because Buddhism is the most widely practiced religion. But how many truly understand what Buddhism is, its teachings, beliefs, and practices? Alongside this, there’s another saying: Thailand… the land of ghosts.

   Judging by the rituals, beliefs, and things commonly seen, it’s clear that spirits, deities, and even angels are invoked and worshiped everywhere. Whether it’s ghosts, ancestral spirits, sky spirits, forest spirits, mask spirits, or household spirits, we often see flowers, incense, and various offerings placed in locations where it’s unclear what exactly resides there, like road bends, desolate valleys, three-way intersections, or even oddly shaped trees. These practices and beliefs have been passed down for generations, forming sayings that, despite some skepticism, are still followed by many. After all, these are matters of faith.

   Nowadays, humans seek different spiritual anchors. Whether it’s worshiping Chinese or Hindu gods, giants, Brahma, or even all sorts of ghosts and demons, how can we be sure we’re worshiping what we believe in and not something else that’s subtly mixed in?

  

Saturday, Lunar Phase

   A storm raged, the wind howling through poorly hinged wooden windows, making eerie sounds as if someone was inside. Four people sat in a circle in the house. The cries of a six-month-old baby echoed, sounding startled all the time, writhing in a basket among three elders performing a ritual.

“Three days a spirit’s child, four days a human’s child, whose child is it? Who took it?” The old man’s voice was filled with concern. According to tradition, parents should claim their child, but this time it was different.

“Th-”

“Aaaargh!!!” The sound echoed throughout the area. Everyone at the ceremony looked left and right for the source, but finding no one else, they immediately pressed their palms together in prayer against their foreheads.

“The child is human, not a spirit.” The old man said with a stern face.

The candles on the altar were blown out by a gust of wind, leaving only white smoke floating. With trembling hands, the old man struck a match to relight them, but then he startled as he saw a figure of a pale woman in a torn skirt and a stained blouse in the dark corner of the house. Her face was pale, showing displeasure, but her eyes were sewn shut with red thread, just like her lips, preventing her from speaking. The more she tried to speak, the more fresh blood flowed down from the stitches.

“Namo Buddhaya, Ma-pa-thana, Pa-ka, Sa-cha

Sappe-dva-pi-sa-je-wa, A-lava-ka-ta-yo-piya

Kha-kang, Tala-pat-tang, Dis-va, Sappe-yak-kha

Pa-lay-ti, Sak-ka-sa, Va-ji-rav-thang”

A shrill scream rose amidst the chanting as a strong wind lifted everything into the air.

“Ves-suvanna-sa-ka-th-avu-thang

A-lava-ka-sa, Du-sav-thang

Ya-man-ssa, Na-ya-na-vu-thang

I-me-dis-va, Sappe-yak-kha, Pa-lay-ti.”

As the chanting ceased, everything settled down. Items scattered on the floor, and the tense atmosphere returned to normal.

“Where is it? Is the spirit gone?” the old woman said, stroking the crying baby’s arms and legs to comfort it.

“It’s not the mother child who took it.” a white thread was tied around the baby’s wrists and ankles as it wriggled in the basket. “The child can’t stay with you, take it to the monk at the temple.”

The old woman looked at the child with a cute face, crying until his eyes were swollen and red, with pity. Because there was no other choice there was then only one thing she could do, to take this child and have him live under the protection of Buddhism.

The only ancient temple in this province was built hundreds of years ago. The monks residing there are all wandering monks. It is said that if one has faith, the temple will reveal itself. The locals venerate one particular wandering monk so much that they’ve restored the temple to make it livable, though not without hardship. Despite their faith, fear often outweighs it, as this area is rumored to be a gathering place for spirits, situated in an ancient dense forest. It’s no wonder no one dares to venture in at night.

An elderly couple, arm in arm, walked into the temple area. The whimpering of a small child didn’t make the atmosphere any less frightening; rather, the cries only intensified the eerie feeling.

Bang, bang, bang!!

A loud knocking on the temple door resounded amidst the strong gusts of wind. When it was opened, the creaky wooden door hinges screeched like a banshee.

“Rev…Reverend Abbott?”

“Give it up, layman. No matter how much you worry, those who have passed cannot stay in this realm.” came a voice as cold as water, before the elderly couple could even explain.

As the old monk spoke, a strong wind blew leaves and grass around wildly as if a storm was brewing, with windows banging open and shut as if someone was very displeased.

“Reverend Abott, this child has no father, his mother is dead, I took him in but it’s been nothing but trouble. Can you look after him?” the old woman said, her voice trembling. Since taking in the child, they felt as if they were not alone in the house, every step watched by unseen eyes, objects moving by themselves, and lullabies mixed with desperate cries at night. Everything made their life uneasy.

The crying child was passed from the old couple to the arms of the monk, and as soon as he held the child, the cries began to quiet. The temple door slowly closed, under the gaze of hungry ghosts longing for a pure soul.

“You will see what you do not wish to see, and endure great hardship until this karma passes. Endure it, Thup.”

 

25 Years Later

   Inside a bustling police station, people reporting cases moved about as much as the police officers. This scene was so common it was almost mundane, except today something was different.

An officer ran into the station, looking frantic, turning left and right as if looking for someone.

“Why are you sweating like that, Lieutenant Khem?”

“Where’s the inspector? Where is he?”

“The inspector has been out on a case since this afternoon. It’s a child kidnapping case, why? You’d think someone died, by the way you are acting”

“Well, someone has died!!” Lieutenant Khem rushed outside again, straddled his motorcycle, and drove off to the location he had inquired about from his colleagues.

Not long after, he stopped in front of a mill on the outskirts of town. Lieutenant Khem pushed through the crowd of villagers gathered around. His sergeant had been there for a while and caught sight of a tanned, muscular young man with a grave and intimidating demeanor that commanded respect from the officers.

“Inspector, inspector!” Lieutenant Khem, breathless, approached.

“What is it, Lieutenant?”

“…241 incident.”

The sharp-eyed inspector looked at his subordinate silently before stepping away from the crowd. The code 241 meant a murder case.

“Where?” the inspector asked.

“In the forest, six kilometers from here. Seven human bodies were found hanging in the middle of the forest.”

“Let’s go there. Secure the area, call in the forensics and the medical examiner to the scene. Make sure no one touches anything until I get there.”

“Understood.”

“Sergeant Singha, should we take the suspect back to the station?” a voice shouted from inside, catching Singha’s attention.

“Yeah, handle it. Take the kids to the hospital for a check-up and call their guardians.” Singha mounted his black motorcycle and drove off, ignoring his subordinate chasing after him.

“Inspector!!! The suspect is still in the area!!!”

In the forest, outside the community, lit only by the full moon, leaves rustled without wind, even though there should have been insects chirping but the night was eerily silent except for the police officer’s own heavy breathing. He kept looking around nervously.

Rustle.

“What the heck!” he exclaimed, grabbing his baton in a flash, sweat trickling from his forehead and palms as fear gripped him. The human mind conjures what it fears the most and magnifies it in multiples.

Scrape, scrape

The chilling sound, like nails on wood, echoed from behind. He dared not turn to look, knowing that if he did, the sight of seven corpses hanging from the tree tops would haunt him forever.

“Who’s there?!” The young officer squeezed his eyes shut, swinging his baton wildly. The chilly air did nothing to calm him; instead, it made him feel like he’d stepped into another world.

‘Sniff’

A soft sob near his ear made his other senses sharpen as he closed his eyes. The newly appointed officer thought his job would be easy; he never imagined dealing with hair-raising murders.

‘Sniff, sob, sniff, sob, sniff, sob, sniff, sob, sniff, sob’

From one to two, then three, until he couldn’t tell whose cries were whose. The only thing he knew was that they seemed so close, as if the weepers were surrounding him.

“Get out, get out! Leave me alone!!” He swung his baton aimlessly until a firm hand stopped him.

“What are you doing?”

“Hey!!” The officer collapsed, muttering prayers, “Namo, namo tassa, namo tassa.” The gruff voice, laced with irritation, gradually calmed him.

“Open your eyes.”

“I..inspector!!”

“What’s got you so spooked?”

“I really heard voices, sir, like someone was here with me!!”

“It must be that kid again.” Singha said, tossing the baton back to the person in front before walking into the crime scene. He looked up to see seven corpses hanging from the large branches of the surrounding trees in a circle. His sharp eyes scrutinized each dead face meticulously. The moonlight cast a glow that revealed red threads stitching shut both eyes and lips of the corpses. Some bodies looked like they had been dead for days, bloated and bruised, with skin splitting to reveal layers of flesh. Others were turning greenish-purple as they swelled, while some showed bruises as if they had just died recently.

Singha looked down at a young, pale-skinned man illuminated by the moonlight, but not entirely clean as his hands and body were covered in bright red blood. The tall, slender figure trembled as he hugged his knees tightly. Singha couldn’t see his face because the young man kept his head down, mumbling something to himself.

“Look up.”

“I… I can’t…”

“I told you to look up.”

“I can’t do it. It’s not my fault.” Singha crouched down in front of the trembling young man, whose fear reminded him of someone else, a fear he had seen before. “I… I can’t do it… really, it’s work… it’s the ghost’s doing.”

The young man looked up at Singha, and that alone made the young officer pause. His fair face, beautiful brown eyes framed by long lashes, a well-defined nose, and lips that seemed to shimmer with tears under the moonlight, filled Singha’s mind with questions.

Questions like… what was this young man doing here?

Soon, various units arrived at the scene, everyone shocked by the situation. A young forensic doctor approached his friend with a light pat on the shoulder.

“Rough job, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Judging by the state of the body, he didn’t die just a day or two ago. There are bruises and he’s starting to smell.”

“Someone said that kid was at the crime scene.” Both turned to look at the young man, who was looking around in panic.

“Have you seen the faces of the seven victims? This isn’t just an ordinary murder.” The forensic doctor remarked with curiosity.

“Photograph all the evidence, then bring the body down. There’s only one set of footprints on the ground, and they match that kid’s size. The blood on him seems too fresh to be from the body, but he might have hurt someone before coming here. I’ll take him back to the station for blood sample analysis. You stay here.”

“Does a person with a face like that do something like this?”

“Any face can do terrible things.”

Singha then went to direct his subordinates at the scene before returning to his vehicle. “Take him back to the station and detain him.”

“Yes, inspector.”

Singha glanced at the young man again. He seemed like he wanted to say something but remained silent. The young sergeant mounted his motorcycle, looking back at the crime scene one last time. The body hanging from the tree under the moonlight looked like a scene from a nightmare, but not for Singha.

   He had to solve this case to bring the culprit to justice.

  

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