GODDESSBLESSYOUFROMDEATH, Case File 6: The Seven Victims’ Information

Singha returned to the station around eleven. While his subordinates were saluting, they frowned, wondering who the young man carrying a bag behind their boss was.

“Is Lieutenant Khem back yet?”

“Not yet, Inspector.”

“Let me know when he returns.”

“Understood.”

Singha walked up to his office. As he sat down at his desk, the young man who followed him settled onto the sofa. Thup yawned, marking what felt like the hundredth time that morning. Not only had he been sleep-deprived, dragged around, but he also had to face various eerie incidents. His body was signaling its limits.

“Inspector, may I sleep?”

“Do whatever.”

“Thank you.” Thup nodded before lying down on the sofa. He lay on his side, watching Singha work with a stressed expression, flipping papers, staring at the computer screen, and occasionally cursing. The young man watched this for nearly half an hour before his eyelids slowly closed.

Hearing steady breathing, Singha looked up to see the problematic kid sleeping peacefully. His sharp gaze returned to the documents and an email from Merk. He was comparing the patterns of cases from ten years ago, five years ago, and the current one. If he had to guess, the killer was choosing victims based on religion. He’d have to watch out for potential targets across the country.

Singha glanced at the young man on the sofa again. Thup had once mentioned seeing spirits resembling murder victims when he was a child. If that was true, had it happened ten years ago?

He picked up his black phone to call Merk again. It took a while for the other side to answer.

“What now?”

“Has this happened before?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The seven corpse murders, has it happened before?”

[Hold on.] The sound of typing and pacing filled the line before Merk returned.

[Yeah, but the perpetrator was caught back then.]

   “Caught?”

[Uh-huh, it happened fifteen years ago too.]

   “Where did it occur, and who was the perpetrator?”

[Phuket, the criminal is a fisherman, his DNA is under the fingernails of one of the victims. Plus, it matches the DNA on the rope used in the murder. Five years later, investigators concluded it was a copycat murder, but the culprit hasn’t been caught.]

   Singha furrowed his brows so tightly they almost tied into a bow, finding the whole situation bizarre.

“Send me all the details.”

Send everything related to this case.

    [Yeah, but be careful, Singha. Both cases have seen multiple responsible officers changed.]

   “Why?”

[Because several officers died in unexpected accidents, that’s why the case hasn’t been closed; no one dares to handle it.]

   “Hmm, don’t forget to send the data, and also the name of the prison where the criminal from fifteen years ago was detained.”

[Yeah, yeah, let me know if anything comes up; I’ll inform the police-commander.]

   “Thanks.” Singha hung up and looked at Thup again, “Copycat murder…”

The young inspector muttered to himself. He reviewed all the information available and sighed; nothing connected.

The murder fifteen years ago was concluded by the police, but this kid claims he saw the same ghost since he was little.

Murders occur every five years.

The crime scene changes every five years.

Singha immediately woke the young man sleeping on the couch.

“Thup, wake up!” His heavy hand slapped on the young man’s arm, startling Thup awake.

“Y…Yes?”

“The ghost of a woman you’ve seen since you were little, how little?”

“Yes? Uh, since I can remember, maybe four or five years old. Why do you ask, inspector?”

“Four or five years old… four or five years old…” Singha repeated, making Thup listen intently, “And where were you at that time?”

“Srisaket.” Singha replied before heading back to his desk. He pulled out all the papers from the files and the printer, then pinned them onto the investigation board.

Thup watched as the young inspector meticulously arranged everything on the board. His eyes sparkled with admiration because at that moment, Singha looked cooler than anyone he had ever met.

“Recent events in the central region, five years ago in the north, fifteen years ago in the south, probably earlier incidents in the northeast. The culprits are still in prison. Previously, he grew up in Phuket, but never moved. No travel history by plane or train.” Singha paused abruptly, mumbling to himself, “So he might not be the original perpetrator.”

The young inspector grabbed his coat, ready to leave the room, but a young man quickly grabbed his arm.

“Um… Inspector, where are you going? Can I come too?”

“Stay here.”

“But…” Thup glanced at the door. The previous incident had just occurred; the door hadn’t even been changed yet. Something was bound to happen again.

Singha also looked at the door, noticing a shadowy figure through the frosted glass, becoming clearer. Thup’s grip on his arm tightened involuntarily.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Inspector, I’m back.” came Lieutenant Khem’s voice from the other side of the door, which made both of them sigh in relief.

Singha shook his arm free from the young man’s grasp, then opened the door with an annoyed look.

“I’ve got all the victim’s data now, shall we go over it?”

“Hmm.” Singha walked out of the room without looking back. Thup watched his broad back with a lingering gaze.

“Shall we go together, young man?”

“Can I go too?”

“Just in case you have any additional information, come on.” Lieutenant Khem waved his hand, calling Thup to join him.

At exactly noon, the task force began their investigative planning meeting. On the front investigation board were photos of the deceased and various pieces of information. Lieutenant Khem handed over hurriedly summarized documents to the inspector before starting his explanation.

“Shall we begin, inspector?”

“Let’s begin.”

“The first person we visited at home was a male victim, eighteen years old. His name is Jirayu, or James, living with his family of four – father, mother, and an older sister. He’s the youngest, and the house doubles as a store. He went missing last week. The last time the family saw him, he said he was going to a friend’s birthday party and never returned. A missing person report has been filed.” LiutenantKhem started with the victim’s background.

“The second case is a fifteen-year-old boy named Jomphon, or Jom, living with his grandmother. He does odd jobs to support his education. Usually, Jom does dishwashing or other odd jobs after school. The last time he was seen was six days ago; he told his grandmother he was going to sell flower garlands at a shop.” Lieutenant Prom briefed.

“The third victim is Phakphong, inspector.” Singha nodded before sharing the gathered information.

“Thirty years old, named Phakphong or Min, transgender, works as a car sales rep, lives alone having moved here six months ago. Neighbors reported seeing him one last day before, saying he was going to the temple before work but never returned home.” Singha concluded, gesturing for the next person to continue.

“The female victim, fifteen years old, named Orawan or Orn, is an only child. Her parents said she frequently runs away because she’s always with friends, so they weren’t alarmed. The last time they saw her was five days ago.”

“My turn, inspector. The male victim, nineteen years old, named Chonlathorn or Nui. When we informed and questioned his parents, they described him as a delinquent who often stays at friends’ houses for weeks at a time, so they weren’t concerned as they themselves are often away driving trucks. Neighbors, however, mentioned seeing him last when he packed his bags and left four days ago.”

“I’ll continue. The male victim, forty-three years old, named Thanakorn or Thee, currently lives alone in a garden house. His two children are studying abroad, and we’ve informed them. His wife passed away last month. Neighbors say the deceased went to the temple to make merit for his wife daily and would return around noon or afternoon. They haven’t seen him in three days.”

“The last one, a female victim, fourteen years old, named Kachakorn, or Kaew. She lived with her parents who run a store selling alms for monks. Her family reported her missing two days ago.”

“Seven days.” Singha said without taking his eyes off the investigation board.

“Sir?” Lieutenant Khem looked around in confusion, unsure what his superior was talking about.

“The killer has been active for a total of seven days.”

“Huh?!” The detective flipped through his documents anxiously, while Singha stood up and walked to the front of the board.

“James went missing seven days ago, Jom six days, Or five days, Nai four days, Theer three days, Kaew two days, and Min just went missing yesterday. It’s possible the killer might act daily, before hanging all the bodies at the crime scene yesterday. So, the whole crime spree took eight days.” Singha explained, his frustration evident as he slapped both hands on the table, making a loud noise. “Eight days of no leads, eight days where the police could do nothing!”

Everyone fell silent, not from being scolded but because they realized the same thing – the killer was acting day by day without anyone noticing.

“Get search warrants for the birthday party venue, the flower shop, each victim’s home, and the friend’s house they frequented. Hurry!”

“Understood, Inspector.”

“Have the autopsy results come in yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Khun Say said because there are seven victims, it might take all day.”

“If they come in, let me know.”

“Yes.”

“Alright, everyone, get to work.”

Singha leaned against the table, gazing at the whiteboard in front. “Another thing common to the murders from five, ten, and fifteen years ago is the timing of the crimes. Each victim was killed over seven days, with one day for disposal. It’s always the same.”

“Uh… Inspector.” Thup, who had been quietly listening from the corner, stood up beside Singha, despite feeling extremely nervous. “What about the temples?”

“Why?” Singha asked without looking back.

“The flower shop where Jom sold garlands is likely near a temple. The temple I used to live at with Luang Phu also had such a shop. Min visited a temple before work, Thirakorn went to make merit for his wife, and Kachokorn or Kaew’s family runs a religious goods shop near a temple.” The young man pointed to each victim’s photo, explaining, making Singha follow his gaze. “I think checking the temples wouldn’t hurt, right?”

Singha reviewed the investigation file again, then wrote down the locations on the whiteboard. His sharp eyebrows furrowed as he walked to the computer, typing in the coordinates. While the system processed, he looked at Thup with a steady gaze. Earlier, he had checked CCTV footage from the condo where the young man lived. Last week, Thup left his condo once, on Wednesday at 1 PM and returned by taxi at 3 PM. Aside from that, he only went out to throw trash or receive deliveries. From the evidence, it seemed highly unlikely he committed the crime. Singha turned back to the computer screen, then got up, pulling Thup by his collar to leave together.

The young man, trying to keep up, asked, “Where are we going, Inspector?”

“Home.”

“Home?”

“Changing cars. Are you coming or waiting?” Singha replied, still dragging Thup by his collar.

“I… I’ll come.”

“Then shut up and keep up.” Thup nodded vigorously, even though Singha couldn’t see it.

Both Thup and Singha walked back to the same motorcycle, this time Thup swiftly getting everything ready to avoid another scolding. Singha put on a jet-black helmet, never taking his eyes off Thup’s sheepish demeanor. Although the kid in front of him seemed timid, asthmatic, and occasionally annoying, he was quick to learn and observant. If you overlooked his ghost-seeing antics, he might be somewhat useful until the forensic fingerprint results came in, then they could part ways.

The large motorcycle drove up to a big village, where Singha parked in front of a large, white standalone house before pressing the remote to open the door.

“Wait here.” As soon as they entered the house, Thup cautiously observed the home of the intimidating inspector. Just as he suspected…

No ghosts indeed.

The front yard had two cars parked, no trees, no bushes, just plain concrete. It was clear the young inspector had no time to maintain it, hence the concrete. Thup peeked inside the house and found it decorated like a model home, with plastic still covering the floor lamps.

“Do you have to stare that much just to come inside?” Singha came out with car keys in hand. “Let’s get in the car.”

“Which one?”

“The black one.”

A completely black BMW 14 was Singha’s choice of vehicle today instead of his usual motorcycle, because the kid sitting with him kept jumping, making the bike swerve.

After leaving the house, Singha drove straight to their intended destination. Thup tried to strike up a conversation, knowing well he might get a stern look or a sarcastic remark.

“Do you know where we’re headed, Inspector?”

“Hmm.”

“Where to? Can I ask?”

“Temple.”

“Ah… which temple? Because we just passed one.”

Singha glanced at Thup from the corner of his eye, but seeing the innocent look from the kid next to him, he swallowed all his curses.

“All the locations where the seven victims disappeared were not far apart, and there was only one temple in that area.”

“Once we get there… Can I wait in the car?”

“Why?”

“Well, in the temple… it’s not just holy things there.”

GODDESSBLESSYOUFROMDEATH CHAPTERS HOME

   GODDESSBLESSYOUFROMDEATH, Case File 5: Testimonies of the Living and the Dead

A chilled soda can was brought to Singha’s lips; he chugged it down in one go. Though he wished it were a strong alcohol, during work hours, all he could do was dream. His sharp eyes glanced at a white-skinned young man, who had been in a daze ever since they left the scene, two kilometers away. “Here we are, officer. Yesterday, my husband was watching the store because I was at the hospital with our child.”

“Hello.” Singha greeted a man in his forties, trailing behind his wife of the same age. He led them inside the shop for a more comfortable chat.

“Hello, what’s going on? My wife called me home urgently, just when I was about to catch a big fish.”

“I need to ask about last night, between 11 PM to midnight. Did a pink taxi, driven by a man in his forties or fifties, stop here?”

“A taxi… Oh! Yes, yes, he mentioned he dropped off a passenger by the roadside forest but was too scared to pick up anyone from there.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“Just a bit. He was unsure if he should pick up anyone because that area is risky at night.”

“Why is that?”

“There are frequent accidents there. I heard from my father it was once a mass grave for the unclaimed dead.” Singha glanced at the young man still sitting outside. “I’m still puzzled about what that passenger was thinking. When I asked if he was sure about picking up a real person, the driver just sped off.”

“Has anyone been around here or gone into that forest in the last few days?”

“Just last night, the police and an ambulance were coming and going. After 9 PM, everyone here is usually in bed. I stayed up late watching football, so I saw a bit.”

“Thank you for the information.” Singha stepped outside, sighed, and noticed the young man still in a daze, with water droplets forming a wide circle from the can on the ground. He didn’t know what the kid had seen, if anything, but the information matched what Thup had said in many ways.

Singha took out a cigarette, held it in his mouth, lit it, and inhaled the nicotine into his lungs. Now, it wasn’t just about the case; there was also the matter of ghosts. From the perspective of someone who doesn’t believe or seriously follow any religion, this kind of thing was utterly ridiculous.

“Inspector, you smoke?”

“Yeah, want one?” Singha offered a fresh cigarette to the young man sitting in front of him.

“I don’t smoke.” Thup replied, shaking his head, then pressed his lips together. “So, what’s next?”

“We’ll have to wait for the autopsy results. Right now, we don’t have any useful information.” A puff of white smoke drifted into the air after he spoke.

“And what about what I mentioned?”

“I think the perpetrator chose that place because it’s a cemetery. A kid who saw a ghost told me so. What do you think, does it sound believable?”

“…No.”

“Yeah, good to know.” A phone rang, interrupting their conversation. Singha picked it up, exhaling smoke into the air, “What is it?”

[Where are you, Inspector?]

   “Near the crime scene.”

[I’ve already questioned the victims’ families. There are four more to go.]

   “What did you find?”

[It seems the times the victims disappeared aren’t consistent.]

   “The killer can’t just take them all at once; it would be too hard to control and suspicious.” Seven victims disappearing all at once…

[I’m heading to the fourth victim’s house now, and I’ll report back to you, Inspector.]

   “Send me the list; I’ll go to the fifth victim’s house myself.”

[Understood.]

   “Hey, Lieutenant, also look up the history of the crime scene for me. Find out who owns it now, who used to own it, everything.”

Or has it been used for something before?

    [Understood, Inspector.] After Lieutenant Khem hung up, Singha walked over to dispose of his cigarette butt in the designated spot.

“Get up, Thup.”

“Where are we going?”

“To the victim’s house.”

“And… should I come along?”

“Are you the one who killed the victims?” Singha crossed his arms, his eyes level but probing.

“I didn’t kill them.” Thup replied, his voice firm.

“Then let’s go.”

It didn’t take long for Singha and Thup to reach the fifth victim’s house out of the total seven. They parked their motorcycle in front of a clean white townhouse, but the house was eerily silent, with no signs of life. Singha rang the bell several times, but no one answered.

“Uh… the homeowner isn’t here.” a woman from the neighboring house called out.

“Do you know who they might be with?”

“They live alone.”

“I’m a police officer. I need to ask about the owner of this house.”

“Uh, sure. But what happened to Min?”

“It’s under investigation. I can’t give details yet, but Pakpong or Min has passed away.”

“What!!! No… that can’t be true, officer. What happened?”

“Do you know anything about her family?”

“I… I only know Min left home because of family issues regarding gender transition, but I’ve never met them. She’s been renting here for six months, and works as a car salesperson.”

“When did she go missing from the house?”

“I think it was yesterday evening; I was supposed to bring some curry to her place, but she wasn’t there.”

“Had she mentioned or told you anything unusual before?”

“Well, there were some work-related things occasionally. She was kind-hearted, cheerful, always going to the temple regularly.” Singha nodded understandingly, “We were just talking about going to make merit together this week.”

“And before that, had anyone visited her house or been lurking around?”

“As far as I know, no one. I work online from home and haven’t seen any strangers.”

“And the last time you spoke before she left the house, did she say anything?”

“She complained about having bad luck before going to work.”

“What time did she leave that day?”

“Around half past six. Normally, she goes to work at seven, but she was going to the temple to make merit, so she left earlier.”

“Did she drive?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you. If there’s anything more, we might need to call you to the station again for further statements.” Singha bowed politely, then glanced towards the deceased’s house.

His phone rang again; Singha answered without looking, guessing who it was.

[Inspector, we’ve interviewed the victim’s family and close friends.]

   “Meet me at the station.” The young inspector replied, hanging up. He quickly mounted his motorbike, put on his helmet, and when he turned back, he cursed seeing the young lad, Thup, still standing there, “Thup, what are you spacing out for? Get on, quick!”

“There’s… someone in the house. No, not someone, something.”

Singha furrowed his brow, looking back at the house, only to see emptiness.

A young man hurriedly grabbed Singha’s shirt, the clear window showing a gap in the curtains just enough to see inside. At one moment, Thup saw eyes, stark white, staring right at him. The corner of the mouth slowly curled into a sinister grin, a smile beyond what any normal human could muster.

“Tha… I… I need to inspect it.” Thup, in fear, made the young man look back into the house again, but no matter how many times he looked, all he saw was an empty house.

“Get in, we don’t have a warrant today, can’t go in.” The young man quickly got into the car, burying his face into Singha’s shoulder, trembling.

“Who told you to—”

“Th… I won’t lean on you then.” The young man looked up, eyes closed, his hands that were on his thighs while riding the motorcycle now clutching Singha’s shirt instead.

The bodies of six victims were taken to the forensic institute, while another was brought to the lab for an autopsy.

“Damn it, I’m going to sue Singha!”

“About what?” Say replied to Darin while putting on gloves.

“About bringing the victims’ bodies here!”

“I told him, otherwise, how would we handle so many corpses?”

“Just use your staff here, why drag me into this?”

“Come on, get dressed. We’re starting the autopsy.”

“Goddamn it!” Darin, frustrated, started putting on her work clothes, dragged back into this despite trying to avoid it.

“Autopsy starts at ten twenty-four.” The sharp eyes looked at the victim on the table, “Male, forty-three, signs of strangulation and deep neck wounds.” The assistant repeated, jotting it down.

“And do we cut this red thread?” Darin asked hesitantly.

“Don’t be like that. Normally, they don’t touch it; it’s sewn and closed so you can’t see. Don’t want to talk about it, Say?”

“How are we supposed to do an autopsy if we don’t cut it? Should we ask him personally?” Say shook his head slightly before turning the body to look for more clues.

“Knife” – the sharpness of the blade slashes through, Darin raises her hand.

The tip of the surgical knife reflects the light shining down, precisely tracing from the neck to the abdomen. A prayer before helping his friend spread open the ribcage to view the internal organs.

The ribs are cut away with pliers to allow Say to remove the internal organs for examination. Every step is meticulous until they reach the stomach.

“Did the deceased have any medical history?”

“Yes, diabetes.” Darin replies after checking the file. Before Say looked into the mouth of the deceased again, he noticed dentures.

“This isn’t the first murder victim.”

“Obviously, the other two in that freezer already have maggots.”

“Have you sent the maggots to the entomologist?”

“Yes, I have.”

Say scrapes the stomach wall into a bottle and hands it to the assistant with the camera, “Take this to toxicology, and I need a list of all medications the deceased was taking.”

“Yes.”

“The food wasn’t chewed properly. Plus, being diabetic probably slowed digestion. Look, there are still chunks of chicken.” Darin remarks, shaking his head slightly.

The autopsy continues until completion, only a red thread remains uncut, which Darin requested to be left for later.

“Scissors.” Say takes the scissors from his friend, slips them under the red thread on the victim’s eyelid, and as soon as he cuts it, the lights go out.

“Shit! What the hell!”

“It’s just a power outage. Why are you freaking out?”

“This place never has power outages!!” He gropes around, “Aaaah!!!!”

Darin shrieked just before the lights went out. Darin, who had fallen to the ground, was grabbing Darin while screaming as a loud thump echoed. Moments later, all the lights in the room flickered back on. His face was a mask of shock.

“Just now… did you grab my hand, Say?”

“I was holding scissors, how could I grab you?”

“Someone grabbed my hand!” Darin glanced at the figure on the bed before backing away. “I told you not to cut the thread!”

“Get up, get up!” Say put down the scissors and helped his friend up. “You might have just touched the corpse’s hand by accident.”

“I know where the corpse’s hand is supposed to be; it was outside the bed just now!”

“Look, the hand is still in the same place, and with that chest cut open, how could it move?”

“…” I mean when it’s not alive anymore! I really felt it, Say!”

“If you can’t handle it, wait outside. I’ll continue the autopsy.” Darin slowly stood up, looking at the corpse, unchanged from before the lights went out, except the left eye where the thread had been cut. He swallowed hard and clenched his lips.

“I’ll stay.” After all, she was a doctor; abandoning her duty wasn’t in her nature.

A chill ran down Darin’s spine as she turned around, but there was nothing there. This case was strange from the start, and the deeper they dug, the stranger it got. She wasn’t sure if she was dealing with a human killer or something beyond death.

GODDESSBLESSYOUFROMDEATH CHAPTERS HOME

   GODDESSBLESSYOUFROMDEATH, Case File 4: The Owner’s Territory

Chaos erupted at the station after a loud banging on the inspector’s door, and the sight of scratches all over the door made everyone’s hair stand on end.

Singha was at his desk, with Lieutenant Khem reviewing CCTV footage across from him, and a young man, clearly terrified, hugging his knees not far away. Ever since Thup arrived at the station, weird things had happened so often that many officers were talking.

“No one was at the door this time, Inspector.”

“How can there be no one? We all heard the noise, and looked at the scratches on the door—if it’s not a person, then what, a ghost?” Singha snapped, frustrated. He was stressed enough tracking down a killer without dealing with this nonsense.

“I’ll check again.” Even Lieutenant Khem, usually his confidant, dared not say more. Singha shot a fierce look at Thup before sighing in irritation.

“Have you checked this kid’s room yet?” Singha glanced at the clock.

“Yes.”

“The search warrant comes at six in the morning.” It was now half an hour to six. “Inspector, look at the footage from when the noise happened.”

Singha watched the footage from outside his room; it showed no one entering, exiting, or even walking by. After about five minutes of stillness, scratches began to appear, but no figure was visible. The door shook slightly, but when he arrived, everything was calm.

“You can’t see her, Inspector…” The young man on the couch said, drawing the attention of the two officers.

“But I…”

Thup watched the video repeatedly. While others saw an empty frame, he saw a woman in tattered clothes, hair disheveled, scratching at the door.

“What do you see, kid?”

Thup looked up, meeting Singha’s eyes. Only he understood what Thup was seeing.

“Stand up, Thup.” Lieutenant Khem quickly asked, seeing something in his reaction.

“Where are you off to, Inspector?” his boss was unlocking the handcuffs from the young man.

“Work.” Singha replied, walking back to his desk, picking up his badge and holster, slinging them over his shoulder. “Keep an eye on this place, and if anyone asks, tell them I’m out solving a case. Also, fix that door, it’s annoying the hell out of me.”

“Solving a case? What case, Inspector? Inspector!!” Singha ignored the calls from behind as he headed towards the parking lot, with the suspicious young man trailing close behind.

Once there, Singha mounted his sleek black motorcycle, handing a helmet to the follower. Seeing the young man put it on awkwardly, Singha realized how little life experience this kid had.

“Do you realize you’re the most problematic suspect I’ve ever dealt with?”

“Sorry.” came the reply, with a voice of reproach and a face like a scolded puppy, making Singha want to slap the helmet onto his head. He yanked the helmet back, put it on properly, and secured all safety measures.

“Get on.” Singha called, “if you can’t ride a motorcycle, I’ll leave you here.”

Thup awkwardly climbed onto the bike, sitting stiffly behind Singha.

“Have you ever rode a motorbike?”

“I usually ride motorbikes, but the drivers never make me wear a helmet.”

“Give me directions.”

“To where?”

“Your condo.” Thup nodded reluctantly before starting to direct the way. At this predawn hour, Thup never imagined he’d be outside his room, especially without his protective amulet. He had to keep his head down against Singha’s back to avoid seeing anything he shouldn’t. He only looked up occasionally when Singha asked for directions.

With few cars on the road, they reached a medium-sized condo in less than half an hour.

“I’m… not under arrest anymore?”

“No way.”

“So, are you coming to the condo? Why me?”

“To check the room of someone involved in the case.”

“Isn’t it… Don’t you need a search warrant first?” Thup tilted his head in confusion.

“Oh, then I’ll just leave this here and go back to get the warrant.” Before Singha could put his black helmet back on, a white hand grabbed his shirt.

“Uh… never mind.” One thing Singha noticed after spending hours together was that this person needed someone around. Left alone, he often showed fear, sweating, and trembling eyes. Clearly, the kid was scared of something.

Thup led Singha to his own room. At the condo, it wasn’t luxurious, but it was comfortable with all amenities and security.

“We’re here.”

“Open it.” Thup nodded quickly, touched a new temporary key card from the management, and opened the door.

The young man’s room was simply decorated with warm tones, clean, with a separate bedroom. The workspace was neat, with a drawing board, screen for drawing, and a desktop computer. Everything was orderly, unlike Singha’s place.

“Where do you want to search, Inspector?”

“Everywhere.” Singha scanned the room, finding nothing unusual, then looked back at Thup.

“So, where should I sit to stay out of your way?”

“Go take a shower.”

“Huh?”

“Are you planning to walk around with blood stains all day?” Singha handed Thup an evidence bag to put his clothes in.

“Take off your clothes.”

“Yes.” As the slender hand was about to grab it, the plastic bag in front was pulled back.

“Take them off here.”

“Yes!” Thup’s voice cracked in surprise. The inspector in front of him wasn’t joking, “Is… is the inspector serious?”

“Yeah, hurry up.” Singha watched the young man slowly remove his jacket, followed by a blood-stained t-shirt. Though the young man wasn’t particularly muscular, he wasn’t skinny either. His pale skin indicated he wasn’t much of an outdoors type.

Thup hesitated for a moment before unzipping his pants. Singha looked at him with a cold demeanor. No matter how innocent the young man seemed, he wouldn’t risk letting evidence like clothes be tampered with. They’d need further examination anyway.

“Inspector, may… May I get a towel?” The young man’s fair face blushed slightly with embarrassment. Singha rolled his eyes, annoyed, before stuffing the clothes into an evidence bag.

“That’s it, go do whatever.”

“Can you inspect the room for a while, please? Don’t leave yet.”

“There are amulets and blessings everywhere; your room is practically a mobile temple. What else is there to fear?” After putting on gloves, Singha began a thorough room search, using a black light to check various spots. The room wasn’t large, with a bathroom attached to the bedroom. The living area connected to the kitchen and an external bathroom, with a balcony off the kitchen. If a murder happened here, the neighbors would have heard something.

After a detailed search and finding nothing suspicious, Singha removed his gloves, took the evidence bag, and knocked on the neighboring room’s door. It didn’t take long for the door to open, accompanied by a puff of smoke.

“Hello.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m an officer.”

“Shit, the police!!!” The hip young guy in the next room rushed back inside, stuffing his weed paraphernalia into a box, then opened the balcony door to clear the smoke. “It’s legal now, officer!”

“I hope not. I have some questions.” Singha chose to ignore the other issue as he was here only to investigate a murder.

“Wh…what?”

“The room to your left, do you know him?”

“That reclusive kid? Yeah, see him when buying stuff downstairs.”

“Did you see or hear anything from his room last night around 7 PM?”

“Hah! That kid’s like a nutjob, he was freaking out last night and then rushed out somewhere.”

“Did he leave alone?”

“I think I saw a woman leave with him just as I was about to yell at him…had a bit to drink though.” Singha sighed at the response.

“Can you describe the woman?”

“Scruffy hair, maybe in a headscarf. You’re asking a lot, officer, what’s up?”

“Thanks for the info.” Singha lost interest in the neighbor, heading downstairs to talk to the condo’s management instead. He requested the CCTV footage from last night and files from the past two weeks.

The neighbor’s words lingered in his mind because Thup had also described a ghostly woman following him. With keen eyes, he intently watched the footage, confirming what the neighbor said, but there was one discrepancy: Thup left his room and took the elevator alone, getting into a taxi at the condo’s entrance, no woman in sight. So, what did the guy see?

“Here you go, officer.”

“Thanks.” Singha returned to the floor, entering the room again to find the young man curled up on the sofa in a hoodie and gray sweatpants.

“Inspector!” Thup exclaimed joyfully, his eyes sparkling, “I thought you had already left.”

“Are you suggesting I should stick to you like glue?”

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

“Go pack your bags.”

“Pack… to go where?”

“Or do you want to stay here?”

“If I go, will I get to stay with you, Inspector…?” Thup tilted his head, looking hopeful.

“Why me?”

“Every time I’m near you… I never see ghosts.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, go pack your things.” Singha cut in, annoyed. It was better if the kid decided to come along, keeping him in sight just in case something happened again. Even with the video evidence from the condo, it wasn’t enough to clear all doubts. He still needed to keep an eye on the kid.

Thup nodded eagerly before rushing off to pack his belongings, unplugging all electrical devices except the fridge to save power and prevent future hazards. He was back in front of Singha in a few minutes, with a black satchel.

“I’m easy to live with, easy to feed, easy to take care of. I’ll cooperate with everything.”

“Let’s see if you’re as easy going as you claim.” Singha said, leading the way out of the room to the elevator. Thup glanced repeatedly at the man beside him with an admiring look, appreciating the time they spent together. He admired Singha’s competence, coolness, decisiveness, and toughness, yet there was a hint of kindness. Despite his harsh words and rigid demeanor, he wasn’t cruel. Plus, when near him, Thup never encountered ghosts.

“Are we going back to the police station?” Thup asked as they reached the car, putting on his helmet by himself, hoping for a word of praise. But Singha’s response made him feel suddenly weak.

“I’m heading to the crime scene first.”

“Uh… to the crime scene, right? Do I have to go too?”

“Or should I drive you to the station?”

“Even without you, Inspector, I’d still get haunted.” Thup muttered before hopping onto the back of the motorcycle. Whether night or day, he had seen things he shouldn’t have. Now, the only certainty was clinging to Singha until they found the pendant or another solution, because once this case was over or he was cleared, Singha would surely keep him at arm’s length.

The black motorcycle headed towards the forest outside the city. Though it was morning, the forest’s atmosphere was no less terrifying. Thup grabbed Singha’s shirt as he glimpsed the ghost of a chubby man behind a large tree, his face pale and covered in blood, his skull cracked open, revealing brain matter. Probably an accident victim. After looking down the entire way, they finally stopped at the same spot where the taxi had dropped him off the night before.

“What’s with you, looking so pale?” Singha asked after the young man took off his helmet.

“Nothing.”

“The taxi dropped you here, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then what did you do next, from the moment you stepped out of the car?” Thup glanced around the eerie forest before turning back to Singha.

“I saw an old woman with a lantern over there.” Thup pointed to an empty space on the left, “So I followed her.”

“Go on then.” Singha not so gently pushed the young man forward.

They walked deeper into the forest. Despite it being daytime, the tall, dense trees blocked most of the light, creating a gloomy atmosphere, making Thup look back at Singha every two minutes.

“It was very dark then. I’m not sure if I remember correctly, but I think I fell down right here.” Thup pointed to a log knee-high. Upon closer inspection, they found a scratch on the bark which was the cause of the wound on the leg of the kid next to him.

“And then what?”

“And… I just kept walking.”

“Afraid of ghosts, yet you come out late at night, in the forest no less, following someone with a lantern, tripping and falling but not turning back, running until you reach the crime scene, doesn’t that sound odd to you?” Singha glanced at Thup from the corner of his eye. If anyone heard the whole story, they’d think this kid is suspicious without a second thought.

“Yes.” replied Thup after reflecting on his own words. It did sound suspicious. He wasn’t surprised that Singha didn’t believe him.

“Follow me.” said Singha, leading into the forest back to the crime scene. The area was now cleared, only yellow tape marked the boundary to keep people out. Last night’s light rain had made the ground soggy, making it pointless to look for more evidence. “Each victim was killed elsewhere before being brought here. It’s not easy to get a body up a tree.”

“Don’t step there!” Thup grabbed Singha’s shoulder just as the young inspector was about to step into a muddy puddle.

“Why?”

“Someone’s not happy.”

“Who?”

“This place… it’s not empty. It has an owner.”

“What are you talking about, Thup? Where’s the owner?” Thup didn’t answer, just stared ahead with trembling eyes. When Singha looked in the same direction, he saw only bushes and large trees.

“I think the killer chose this place for a reason… The murder must have a reason for choosing this place.”

Suddenly, Thup gripped Singha’s shoulder tightly, seeing spirits of both men and women staring back with displeased eyes. From one to two, from two to three, until he saw dozens of spirits glaring through the large bushes not far away.

“This place… must have been a cemetery before.”

GODDESSBLESSYOUFROMDEATH CHAPTERS HOME

   GODDESSBLESSYOUFROMDEATH, Case File No. 3: Merely Three Bits of Information

After the interrogation ended, Lieutenant Khem allowed Sir-Danai, the taxi driver, to leave, not forgetting to warn him that he might be called back for further questioning. The current information seemed insufficient to connect any dots. Singha thus decided to request all case reports from the teams on the ground and returned to his office, with the young suspect following behind.

“Inspector, here are the case reports. This one is the witness statement, and this is the preliminary autopsy report from forensics.” Lieutenant Khem, who had just followed him in, glanced briefly at the young man standing in the corner of the room. “Uh, should we take the suspect back to the holding cell as usual?”

Singha didn’t reply immediately. He merely turned to look at the visibly nervous young man. There were many reasons to suspect him, and without a better alibi than a ghost, he remained the prime suspect.

“Keep him in another holding cell when one is available.”

“Understood.”

Grrrrr

The sound of the young man’s stomach growling interrupted the conversation, followed by laughter from the elderly policeman standing by the door.

“Sorry.”

“It’s almost three. Inspector, do you want a snack or something? I’m heading out to buy some.”

“Get whatever, and a coffee for me too.” Singha said, handing over some money to his subordinate before sitting back at his desk.

“Hey kid, want something?” Thup was just a suspect, not enough evidence to conclude he was the perpetrator, so Lieutenant Khem didn’t want to pressure the young man too much.

“Can I have a boxed lunch, please? But… my wallet…”

“No worries, Inspector is footing the bill.” Khun Khem said, waving a purple banknote.

Thup looked back at the person reading documents with pleading eyes. He kept staring even though Singha didn’t look up, until finally, the young inspector couldn’t help but speak out in annoyance.

“Order whatever you want, and get some for the guys on duty too.” Thup said, pursing his lips.

“Yes, inspector. I’ll be right back.”

Once Khun Khem left, the room fell silent, filled only with the sound of flipping papers and keyboard clacking. Thup tiptoed to the sofa, careful not to disturb the working person. Fatigue slowly crept over him, making his eyelids heavy. He slapped his cheeks repeatedly, fearing that if he fell asleep now, he might wake up back in the same old cell.

Meanwhile, Singha, engrossed in case files, glanced up when he heard a sound from the sofa. The first person’s background he looked up was this suspicious young man in front of him. There was barely any information; just someone who had moved to the city from a university town in the Isan region. No clear parental history, but the application form for university mentioned a monk.

“What do you usually do in your free time?” Singha asked without looking up.

“Huh? Are you asking me?”

“There are only you and me in this room. Who else should I ask, your mother?”

“Uh… please don’t say it like that.” Thup said, looking around nervously.

“I just watch movies or draw pictures.”

“Anything else?”

“Uh… that’s it. I don’t really go out much.”

“Why?”

“There are things out there I don’t want to see.”

“But you choose to go into the forest at night? Do you know that just makes you closer to being a villain?”

“I… I think it’s happened before.”

“What do you mean?”

“People with their eyes and mouths sewn shut… I’ve seen it before.” Singha placed the file he was holding down, crossed his arms, and stared at Thup intently. “You might not believe what I’m saying, and that’s okay. I just want to share in case it might be useful.”

Thup pressed his lips together before letting out a deep sigh. Normally, he didn’t like talking unless necessary, especially about such personal matters, but Singha made him feel safe.

“I… I’ve seen ghosts. Since I was little, I thought it was just temporary, but it wasn’t. When I was at the temple, the monk helped me a lot. I never had friends my age because I couldn’t tell the difference. The monk gave me a necklace before he passed, to distinguish between the dead and the living. Before all this happened, before I dreamt about the forest incident… I’ve seen it before. I saw a woman whose eyes and mouth were sewn shut with red thread. So, what I’m saying is, this might not be the first time.”

Thup glanced at Singha with fear, seeing the young officer didn’t respond. “That’s… that’s all.”

“Here you go, sir, steamed beef with a fried egg, not fully cooked. And for this little one here, who looks like he doesn’t like spicy food, I got fried rice. Can you eat this?” LieutenantKhem interrupted, holding out food boxes with a broad smile. Thup’s fatigue momentarily eclipsed his fear.

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“Just call me Lieutenant Khem.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Khem.”

“Eat up.”

Singha left the room without a word, making Thup’s heart skip a beat again. He knew it was hard to believe, especially for someone like Singha who seemed skeptical about such matters. He didn’t expect the young officer to believe him, but he wanted to be of some use.

“Have I made the officer angry?” Thup muttered.

“Nah, he’s always like this.”

“So, Lieutenant Khem, the inspector doesn’t think I’m… the culprit, right?”

“Not exactly, but the man is decisive. If he thought you were the bad guy, you’d be sleeping in a cell by now, not wandering around like this. Come on, eat up, young man, I’ll unlock your cuffs first. After you eat, I’ll lock them back up.”

“Thank you.” Thup smiled and bowed in gratitude.

Meanwhile, Singha, the young inspector, stepped out to the station’s parking lot, lighting up his usual brand of cigarette. He inhaled deeply, the nicotine hitting his lungs to calm the chaos in his mind. After half a cigarette, he pulled out his phone and dialed a contact at the Central Investigation Unit.

[3 AM] A groggy voice answered.

“Merk, I need info.”

[I’m trying to sleep here.]

   “Multiple homicides, victims sewn at the eyes and mouth with red thread.”

[Are you even listening to me?]

   “The case might be years old. I need all the info on similar or related homicides.”

[You’ve got to be kidding me, hold on.] There was a rustling on the other end. Singha stubbed out his first cigarette and lit another. [Seems like there’s something, I’ll send it over.

“Hmm.”

[Why suddenly interested in a case from five years back?]

   “Five years ago?”

[Yeah, similar reports from five years back. Wait, there was something ten years ago too.] Singha’s eyebrows furrowed. [It’s an unsolved special case, why the interest, Singha?

“Because I’m dealing with this damn case now, send everything over.”

[I’ll have to inform the commander then.]

   “Hold on, the commander will make things even more complicated. Let’s wait until we have more to go on.”

[Singha, that’s the commander!]

   “Just this much.” Singha hung up before taking another deep drag, thinking if this case had really happened before and multiple times without the culprits being caught, then it’s dangerous!

Singha returned to his office, rolling his eyes slightly. Upon entering, he saw his subordinate casually chatting with the problematic kid. There was also an empty food box on the table.

“No work to do, Lieutenant?”

“Not yet, sir, waiting for your orders.”

“I’ll send some info your way, gather it up for me.”

“Sure, and are you going home tonight, sir?”

“No.”

“Understood.” After Lieutenant Khem left, Singha forwarded an email he received from a friend at the central investigation unit, then continued reviewing each victim’s background in detail.

“Sir?”

“What?”

“Can I sleep, sir?”

“Want a bath and a soft bed too?”

“Really?” The young man asked excitedly, but seeing the stern look, he returned to his curled-up position, “Guess not.”

Thup looked at the blank paper and pencil on the table. The young man sat on the floor, doodling aimlessly because sitting still would surely put him to sleep. Now, the room was filled only with the sound of turning paper and the scribbling of a pencil.

Singha read through the victims’ backgrounds, trying to find any connection. But aside from their ages being all over the place, nothing matched – not their professions, addresses, or even lifestyles. Typically, serial killers choose victims with something in common, be it physical traits or shared data points, but here, there was nothing. The only consistent factor was the method of killing.

Singha reopened the emails, carefully reading through each detail. The case from five years ago occurred in a northern province, with seven victims all sewn up with red thread at their eyes and mouths, just like now. Reviewing those victims’ profiles, it was the same – no connections among them.

“So, what’s the killer’s selection criteria?”

Age? Indeterminate.

   Gender? Indeterminate.

   Occupation? Indeterminate.

   Residence? Indeterminate.

   Religion?

   He spread out all the papers on the table, going over the religion section. And there it was – every victim, from the recent cases to those five and even ten years ago, followed the same religion.

Buddhism.

   This was the only link found so far.

A grunt from someone slumped over the guest table caught Singha’s attention. Walking over, he saw the young man had been drawing. Picking up the artwork, he frowned. It was a picture of himself, looking stressed while working. Given the skill, the kid claiming to be a freelance artist wasn’t exaggerating. Singha shook his head, placed the drawing back, threw his coat over the young man’s head, and left the room, locking the door behind him. He headed to the forensics lab to re-examine all the victims’ bodies.

In the chilly morgue, the bodies had been neatly stored in refrigerated cabinets. Singha glanced around, his eyes scanning each cabinet, pondering deeply. Just knowing the victims’ religions wasn’t enough to catch the killer. He needed more, anything to solve this case and nab the murderer.

Thup, roused by the sound of a door closing, groggily reached for a solid black leather jacket, holding it as he looked for its owner, but found no one. A slight smile crept on his lips as he inhaled the jacket’s pleasant scent. Who said inspectors were always tough?

Before he could relax, a sound like nails scratching on wood jolted Thup. Turning slowly, he saw the shadowy figure of a woman outside the glass door again.

“What… what do you want?” he asked tremblingly, but received no answer, only a muffled groan from outside. “Are you… the one behind this?”

Before he could finish, a loud banging on the door shook the room as if the person outside was filled with fury. Thup, trembling with fear, hugged Singha’s jacket tightly, trying to close his eyes but curiosity about who was on the other side kept them open. The sound was unmistakable; it was the same eerie groan he had heard from his childhood.

It was that ghost he had encountered before.

The door swung open, flooding the room with light. Through his tears, he saw not a ghost, but Singha’s stern face approaching.

“Check the CCTV.”

“Understood, Inspector.”

“What now, Thup?” Thup turned to look where Singha pointed, noticing long scratches on the door revealing the wood beneath.

“If she wasn’t here to tell me something… then she must want me.”

GODDESSBLESSYOUFROMDEATH CHAPTERS HOME

   GODDESSBLESSYOUFROMDEATH, Case File 2: Statement from the Taxi Driver

Singha was standing in the observation room, his sharp eyes fixed on the pale young man in the interrogation room. The observation room door opened, and Lieutenant Khem entered, handing over the case file to his chief, who was still glaring at the young man.

“He answered all questions the same way, Inspector.”

“Did anyone else see anyone else in the area?”

“No. The police initially at the scene didn’t see anyone either.”

Lieutenant Khem turned to look at the young man in the interrogation room and sighed. “I don’t know. I think this kid doesn’t seem like a killer. Not just because of his innocent face, but also because his statements show no inconsistencies. Plus, the fact that he had to take a taxi to the crime scene, he couldn’t possibly have transported all the bodies there, right?”

Singha didn’t respond as he was reading the case file in his hands, just as the observation room door opened again, this time with Lieutenant Prom, a young officer who had recently transferred.

“Inspector, here’s the driver’s information. We’ve issued a summons for him to come in for questioning.”

“Hmm.”

“Also, Dr. Say is back.”

“And the victims’ bodies?”

“They’ve been sent over as well.”

Singha walked back into the interrogation room. As soon as the young officer entered, Thup straightened up automatically, feeling tense.

“Stand up.”

“Where…where are we going?”

“Back to your cell. We need this room.”

“Can I stay somewhere else? Another cell, storage room, anywhere but not that cell, please. I’m begging you.” The young man was visibly agitated.

“What’s wrong with going back there?”

“You wouldn’t believe me anyway… right?”

The young inspector puffed out his cheeks in frustration.

“Inspector, Dr. Say is asking for you.” Sergeant Khem opened the door to inform his boss.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.” Singha grabbed Thup by the collar, making him follow, disregarding his near-tearful state. “Lieutenant, is there any other room available?”

“Just that?”

“Yes.”

Singha dragged the young man by the back of his shirt, making him follow up to the upper floor of the police station. Despite the small distance in their steps, it seemed Thup couldn’t keep up with the person in front at all.

“Officer…sir, I…I can’t keep up.” Thup gasped, his shirt collar pulled so tight he could barely breathe, but the person ahead showed no signs of slowing down.

When they reached the front of an office door clearly marked with an inspector’s badge, Thup pressed his lips together. The door was opened just as Singha pushed the young man inside. He then went to retrieve a key from his desk drawer. This room would do for a temporary holding place, at least until the investigation was over. There was only one entry and exit. Thup chose to sit on the long black sofa cautiously, looking around the room warily.

“If you’re going to be difficult again, you can go back to your old cell.”

“Thank…thank you.” The ringing of a phone from his jeans pocket didn’t stop, forcing Singha to answer, though he kept his eyes on the young man.

“What?”

[Where are you?]

   “Upstairs.”

[Come down, Sing, I’ve got something to show you.]

   “Wait a moment.” Singha hung up quickly, walked to the small fridge in the room, grabbed a bottle of water, and tossed it to the young man on the sofa. “Don’t cause any trouble.”

“I’ll stay here.”

“Thank you, Inspector Singha.” The addressed man glanced slightly before walking out, not forgetting to lock the door from the outside.

He walked downstairs, then opened the door to the forensic department. The clattering sounds from the autopsy room didn’t unsettle Singha at all. Once inside, he found his friend, a young man with red hair contrasting with the white lab gown he was wearing, pacing between the three autopsy tables and the four open body storage units behind.

“What have you got?”

“Come here, put these on.” Singha grabbed gloves from a box and put them on before standing next to his friend. “The seven victims’ bodies show no physical similarities. This corpse is an eighteen-year-old male. That one’s a forty-three-year-old male. And that one’s a fourteen-year-old female.” Say pointed to the bodies laid out on the tables in turn, then turned to the body storage units behind.

“This one’s a fifteen-year-old male, that one’s a nineteen-year-old male. And the last one is a fifteen-year-old female.”

Singha scanned each corpse, particularly lingering on the body of the young girl.

“I know what you’re thinking, the killer isn’t specifying the type of victims here. It’s sloppy work, Sing.”

“It’s not certain there’s no connection yet. We’ll see once we have detailed backgrounds of each.”

“Yeah, I hope so.” Say walked back to the first body’s table. “Each body was treated the same: sewn eyes with red thread and lips sewn shut in an ‘X’ pattern. Look here, the victims’ necks have ligature marks from rope, but there’s something deeper.”

“Wire?” Singha leaned in to examine the victim’s neck. Apart from the bruising from the rope, there were also small, deep cuts.

“Not sure yet, but I think so. These cuts are the cause of death, strangulation until asphyxiation. The victims probably didn’t see it coming. The more they struggled, the tighter the wire-like material cut into their necks from behind, slicing deeply into the flesh. I think the killer is probably a teenager or maybe young adult, possibly around one-eighty centimeters tall or more.”

“And at the crime scene, did you find anything else?”

“There’s nothing suspicious, but you might want to look at the photos again. There are two sets of footprints: one from our police and the other from the suspect.”

“That kid is over one-eighty centimeters tall.” Singha muttered to himself.

“The thread sewn over the eyes and mouth of the victims probably isn’t to prevent them from calling for help; it’s more likely due to some psychological repression or mental illness, to torment the victims more.”

“Examine the neck wounds and the thread too, just in case. And if the victims were still conscious when strangled, they might have struggled or fought back. Check under their fingernails for any DNA traces from the killer.”

“Okay, I’ll handle it.”

“If you find anything else, let me know, and I’ll need the autopsy reports.”

“I’ll get them to you.” Then they both went back to their respective duties.

Singha walked back to the interrogation room because he received a message that the taxi driver was there waiting to give his statement. However, his steps suddenly halted, and he changed direction towards his own office instead.

Thup was in the chief’s office in the station, looking around before slumping back into the sofa weakly. He stared at the white ceiling, sighing. If he hadn’t lost the amulet given by the monk, he might not have dreamt of that and seen these things again.

“What should I do?” Thup muttered to himself, but suddenly, he noticed a dark shadow passing by the glass door. His once calm heart raced again. The young man reassured himself it was probably overthinking due to exhaustion from not eating or sleeping for hours. His eyes fixed on the frosted glass door until he saw the figure of a woman gradually become clear outside. Thup hunched over again, thinking if he didn’t look up, he wouldn’t see those frightening things, but then the sound of the doorknob turning made his heart sink, “Please don’t scare me, don’t scare me.”

“Will there ever be a time when I meet you under normal circumstances?” Thup looked up immediately.

“Inspector!”

“Do you remember the taxi driver’s face?” The familiar voice asked.

“Y…Yes.” When Singha got the answer he wanted, he unlocked the handcuffs.

“What are you staring at?” the young policeman asked, noticing the kid in front of him couldn’t take his eyes off the door.

“Nothing.”

“Get up and follow me.”

“Where are we going? You’re not taking me to the cell, are you?”

“And what if I am?” Singha replied irritably, rolling his eyes as the kid hesitated to follow.

“Come on.”

As they neared the interrogation room, Thup suddenly halted, turning to look down the hallway leading to forensics. He saw a girl standing at the end, sobbing. Instead of tears, drops of blood flowed down her cheeks.

“The girl…”

“What about her?”

“I… I see a girl standing there.” Singha looked where the pale finger pointed but saw only emptiness.

“Describe her.”

“She’s young, with long black hair down to her back, wearing a yellow t-shirt and jeans overalls…”

Singha furrowed his brows, then grabbed Thup by the collar, urging him to move.

Just like back then. She said the same thing.

Thinking about it, Singha puffed out his cheeks in frustration. This kid was at the crime scene, he must’ve seen the bodies already. He couldn’t afford to entertain such nonsense.

They reached the observation room, where the interrogation began. Singha had to keep an eye on both the taxi driver and the suspect beside him.

“Is this the guy?” Singha asked.

“Yes.”

“Name?”

“He’s called Danai.”

“What color taxi?”

“Pink.” Singha nodded in acknowledgment, then glanced into the interrogation room about to start.

“Good day, Danai, got the summons?”

“Just a bit.”

“Shall we get started then?”

“Uh… maybe not.” Must have been quite the shock when you got it, or do you want a drink first?

“Alright, let’s begin. Today, we’ve invited you to ask about a passenger who rode in your taxi last night.”

“I’m not sure if I’ll remember.”

“Just whatever you can recall. You drive a pink taxi, a Toyota, license plate number 487, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Your name is Mister Danai, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Last night, from dusk till midnight, a passenger, a man in his mid-twenties to thirties, hailed a taxi in front of a condo for a ride out of town. Remember him?”

“I remember… that young man…” The taxi driver paused for a moment, nodding vigorously before answering.

“Do you recall what he was wearing?”

“Ah, if I’m not mistaken, he was in a white T-shirt, with a gray hoodie. Not sure about the pants, but he was tall, fair-skinned, and quite handsome.”

Thup looked down at himself before turning to Singha with a gleaming eye, probably because the taxi driver’s description matched him perfectly.

“Can you tell me what his demeanor was like before getting into the car, during the ride, and when he arrived at his destination?”

“When he hailed my taxi, he seemed very anxious. During the ride, we didn’t talk much, but I asked him what he was going to do in the middle of the forest at this late hour. The young man replied that he thought something bad might happen.”

“And then what happened next?”

“While driving, the road was deserted, and the atmosphere was very quiet. So, I turned on some music and we didn’t talk much. After a while, the kid suddenly told me to stop the car. After paying, he asked me to wait, then he walked straight into the forest.”

“Did he take anything with him, or was anyone with him?”

“It looked like he went empty-handed, and no one was with him, but…”

“But what?”

“But… Some of my taxi driver friends have told stories about people encountering something strange around there often. I’m scared of ghosts myself; I only stopped for a moment before I felt eerie and drove off.”

“Where did you go after that?”

“I parked at a store about two kilometers away because I wasn’t sure if I should wait for him.”

“About those stories, can you tell me what they are about?”

“Well, around there, they say people have seen an old woman, or sometimes a young woman, standing in the forest by the road. She wears a blue blouse, a sarong with green floral patterns, and carries a lantern. They say if you drive by half-asleep, you might see her crossing the road. If you stop, bad luck often follows, leading to accidents. Now, no one stops there anymore.”

“A ghost?”

“They say it’s a local deity or a forest spirit.” The taxi driver explained, excitedly rubbing his arms.

Singha sighed before turning to look at the young man standing beside him.

“I’m not lying, really.” Thup said.

“I haven’t even asked.”

“… “

“I don’t know how to convince you, Inspector, but I really didn’t kill anyone. I told you, it was a ghost.”

“Ghosts don’t use wire to kill people or sew their eyes and mouth shut, so keep your ghost story to yourself.”

Looks like this case won’t be straightforward.

GODDESSBLESSYOUFROMDEATH CHAPTERS HOME

   GODDESSBLESSYOUFROMDEATH, Case File 1: The Curse of the Solitary Cell

At the police station past midnight, aside from the duty officers and those waiting off their hangover, it wasn’t as bustling as daytime. The quiet atmosphere ended when a van carrying a suspect parked in front. Two officers escorted a composed young man inside. Just then, the previously calm wind suddenly gusted stronger for no reason.

“Who’s this, Lieutenant?”

“A suspect.”

“Ha! Someone this good looking?”

“These days, you can’t judge a book by its cover. Let’s go, open an interrogation room; the sergeant will deal with him.”

“The rooms are full. Two are being repaired, cameras and wiretaps, and one is in use.”

“Then put him in a solitary cell for now.”

“Uh… can you open it yourself, sir?”

“Don’t be silly, go on, hurry! If the inspector sees this kid still roaming outside, we’ll get an earful!”

The young man glanced at the two officers bickering. He was led inside, past desks, past the staff room, until they reached the holding area. The stifling atmosphere made the young man turn away with every step echoing on the floor. He looked around warily, and when they reached the innermost cell, he saw a man sitting facing the corner, radiating a chilling, eerie vibe. This cell felt different from the others, darker and more ominous.

The sound of the iron door creaking was painfully loud. The officer pushed Thup inside without much care.

“Stay here, don’t cause trouble. An officer will come for a body search.”

“Uh… sorry, but do I really have to stay here?”

“Looks like it. The interrogation rooms are full, and you won’t be here long. We’ll call the doctor soon.”

“Uh… but here… will something happen?”

“Hey kid, you ask a lot of questions.”

“So… so that means I have to stay in this room alone, right?”

“And you want me to just sit here and watch? That’s a weird question.”

The young man slowly sat down on the floor, gripping the bars tightly, his eyes slightly trembling, before softly beginning to chant.

“Namo Tassa Bhagavato Araha.”

‘I should have killed them all. I shouldn’t have left any.’

   “Arahato Samma Sambuddhassa Namo Tassa.” The young man recited the chant while looking down at his own feet.

‘I don’t want to be locked up, locked up, locked up.’

   “Bhagavato, a… Arahato, Sa… Samma Sambuddhassa.” A chilling sensation made the young man’s chant become stuttered, his beautiful hands gripping the bars so tightly that veins were visible.

‘Need to escape, must escape.’

   The sounds of movement behind him didn’t arouse curiosity; the dragging footsteps, the sounds of tying something, continuous, like the mumblings of wanting to escape. He didn’t even want to guess what kind of escape that was.

‘Gasp! Cough! Gag! Cough!’

   The sounds of agony made the young man quickly cover his ears. The rustling of clothes, the flesh hitting, screams like someone out of breath, until after four minutes, everything returned to its original silence.

Shaking, the young man slowly removed his hands from his ears. He saw nothing in his peripheral vision, so he gradually turned his head to look behind, only to see an empty room. He sighed in relief, but as he was about to relax, a drop of water hit his forehead, making his heart race again. He breathed heavily and looked up.

!!!!Kid

   The image of a young man in tattered clothes is hanging from an upper beam, a thick rope around his neck. His eyes bulge out, his face is a ghastly green, not like someone who has just died. The source of the water droplets on his forehead is from his tongue sticking out. This horrific sight makes the young man tremble with fear, backing away until he hits the wall. His eyes widen as the hanging body slowly inflates and eventually falls to the ground. Instead of the scene disappearing like when he still had the monk’s necklace, the body now slowly moves, its swollen face glaring at him with vengeful eyes before crawling towards him, mumbling,

‘Run, run with me, do it.’

   “Please, stop, don’t, sob, don’t do it.” The young man pleads, hands clasped, as the ghost crawls closer.

‘Come with me, die like me!’

   The young man shuts his eyes tight, trembling, knowing that believing even a word could seal his fate.

While he sits curled up, eyes closed, hoping the nightmare would end, a cold breeze blows in, like before…like in the forest.

“Who said to take this kid to Khun Darin, lieutenant?” a deep voice asks from the front.

“Uh, Khun Darin said to take the suspect to the room, but no one dared to come.”

“Too scared of nonsense to work, eh? Pathetic!” The irritated voice makes the teary-eyed young man look up from the sneakers to the dark jeans, tight black t-shirt showcasing abs, to the leather jacket sleeve brushing back hair in frustration, “Get up, follow me, and if you think of running, you’ll regret it.”

The ghost is gone…it vanished.

   Singha looks at the young man, who is looking around in panic, just like when he first saw him.

He had just returned from directing the scene when he asked others about the new suspect; they all pointed to the solitary confinement room. On his way, he heard sobbing mixed with chanting from inside, confirming it was this kid.

A young man is handcuffed, led by an officer at the front and another at the back. They are heading to the nursing department for a body check before the interrogation process begins.

A rough hand pushes open the door to a clean, white room, indifferent to whoever might be inside.

“Damn! You scared me, Singha!” a tough-looking woman exclaims. Her jet-black hair is clipped up hastily, and she pushes up her thick-framed glasses before throwing a half-eaten apple at the newcomer. “Ever heard of knocking? Manners, dude!”

“I’m a police inspector.”

“And?”

“Brought a suspect for a body check.” He pushes forward.

“Suspect?”

“Yeah, murder case.”

“Seven bodies, in the forest, right?”

“How did you know?” Singha pulls the young man forward.

“Your buddy’s got a mouth like a loudspeaker. How do you shut him up?” Darin, a former forensic pathologist turned nurse because she couldn’t handle the ghosts, puts down her files and walks into the examination room, followed by the suspect and Singha. “Say called to prepare the autopsy room. He painted such a vivid picture, I’m still creeped out.”

“Delusional.”

“Yeah, because tough guys like you aren’t scared of anything.” Darin hands over the consent form for the body check to the young man, who is staring at the floor. “Read it carefully, then sign here, so we can start the check.”

“Uh… me…” The young man suddenly stops talking and starts reading the document.

“You sure we’ve got the right guy?” Darin whispers to Singha, standing beside him.

“He was at the crime scene.” Singha whispers back, his sharp eyes not leaving the visibly nervous young man.

“About the size of you but seems like a light kick could topple him, yet he supposedly killed seven people and hung them on a tree. That can’t be right.”

“Out of anger, intentional murder, or even a cover-up, anything could have happened until we investigate.”

“Done.” The young man handed the file back to the two.

“Because I’m a woman, I need Singha to find a man to be with, are you okay with that?”

“Yes.” The young man stared at the person leaning against the wall with a gleaming look.

“Alright, let’s begin.” Darin placed the file on the bed, starting to examine the young man, including drawing blood for tests. Even external bloodstains were collected, “Look at this wound.”

Pulling up the trouser leg revealed an open wound. Though not deep, it was suspicious enough not to be ignored. The routine examination proceeded, with the young man occasionally glancing at the person by the wall, but upon meeting eyes, he quickly looked away.

“Yes.” The young man stared at the person leaning against the wall with a sparkling look in his eyes.

“Okay, let’s get started.” Darin picked up a file from the side, placing it on the bed before beginning to examine the young man’s body, including drawing blood for testing. The external blood stains were collected as well. “There’s this wound.” she noted during the examination.

The rolled-up trouser leg revealed an open wound. Though not deep, it was significant enough not to be overlooked. The procedure continued with basic steps. Occasionally, the young man glanced up at the person standing by the wall, but when their eyes met, he quickly looked away.

“Name?”

“Uh…yes, sir?”

“What’s your name?”

“Thup. My name is Thup.”

“Age?”

“T-t-twenty-five.”

“Oh! The year of misfortune.” Darin chimed in. “Sing, you’re also in your year of misfortune, right?”

“Get back to work.”

“I know, I know!” Darin continued the examination. After documenting everything, including photos and data in the file, she then proceeded to dress the wound.

“The next step is an interrogation. So, don’t make it hard on yourself. Don’t lie, and don’t think about running.”

“I…I really didn’t do it.”

“Everyone caught on charges like these says the same thing.”

“Can…can I ask for something?”

“The only right you have is to a lawyer.”

“Can…can I stay somewhere else? I can stay anywhere, even in this room, but not that cell, please.”

“The cell? The one at the very end?”

“Yes.”

“I see. I told them to bring you in, and they were reluctant, turns out it’s because of that rumored haunted cell.”

“When are you guys going to stop believing in this nonsense? Ghosts, really? It’s all in your heads, just psyching yourselves out.”

“Sing, I won’t argue if you don’t believe me, but there’ve been several detainees who ended up killing themselves in there. Not just one or two.”

“By…by hanging, right?” The young man looked up, and both Singha and Darin raised their heads.

“Yes, how did you know?” Darin said, startled. “The first detainee caught for a family massacre used his own blood to write a farewell on the floor before hanging himself with a cord hidden in his pants. After that, anyone locked in that cell has tried to kill themselves, some succeeded, some didn’t. It’s creepy. Even though it happened five years ago, hardly anyone uses that cell anymore. Okay, we’re done here.”

“Stand up.” Singha ordered the young man again. “When you get the test results, bring them to me, and if Say comes back, let him know too.”

“Right, right.”

Singha escorted the young man to the interrogation room, which had just been repaired. Standing next to each other, he noticed the young man was only slightly taller than him.

“Thup Thammawat Wirakitthada, twenty-five years old, currently working as a freelance illustrator. No record of parents. No criminal record.” Singha read through the profile of the person sitting across from him, item by item. Meanwhile, Thup just sat there, nodding along. “The current address is twenty kilometers from the crime scene. Want to explain why you were there and how you got there, seeing as there’s no record of a driver’s license here?”

“I can’t drive.”

“And then?”

“So, I took a taxi.”

“Do I have to dig for every detail, or are you going to spill it all at once?”

“Sorry. I…I had a dream. I dreamed that something bad would happen there. So, I went. I told the taxi driver to wait, but he didn’t.”

Thup looked up at the young inspector across from him, who had a stern look on his face.

“Are you going to tell the truth, or spend another night behind bars?”

“I’m telling the truth. You might not believe me, but I’ve told you everything I can. I remember the taxi’s license plate. I remember everything.”

“Then tell me.”

The young man wrote down the taxi’s license plate and slid the paper over.

“After I got out of the taxi, I saw an old lady about to walk into the woods. I followed her, and the deeper I went, the more I felt like I was going somewhere I shouldn’t. Next thing I knew, I was standing there. I was so scared I tried to run, but no matter how I ran, I kept circling back to the same spot until the police found me. I tripped over a branch and fell, and then you caught me.”

“If you saw an old lady, where is she now? Who is she? Why would you follow a stranger into the woods?”

“I didn’t see her face clearly, but she was wearing a blue collared shirt, a green floral scarf, and she was carrying an old-fashioned lantern. I heard a sound behind me, so I turned for just a second, and when I looked back, she was gone.” After hearing the story, Singha sighed and puffed out his cheeks in frustration.

“Did you listen to what you’re saying? Anyone believing you is an idiot!” Singha stood up, slamming the file onto the table, making the young man jump. “You think you’ll avoid prison with this ridiculous story?”

“I…I’m telling the truth. I really didn’t do it.”

“Damn it!” Singha stormed out of the room in frustration. It wasn’t just the young man’s story that angered him; it was also the fact that the young man’s physical demeanor didn’t show any signs of deceit. If he wasn’t telling the truth, he was certainly a skilled liar. “Lieutenant, go take his statement, and bring me the case report.”

“Yes, Inspector.”

“Lieutenant, look up the taxi’s information and bring the driver in for questioning.”

“Understood.”

That problematic kid.

GODDESSBLESSYOUFROMDEATH CHAPTERS HOME

   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.

GODDESSBLESSYOUFROMDEATH CHAPTERS HOME