Someone—no, it was a mother and her daughter—were being beaten and kicked helplessly by a group of grown men.
I—no, I mean the person who owned this memory—crawled on the ground, powerless. Both arms were broken, blood pouring from open wounds.
Tears welled in the man's eyes as he screamed, pleading for the group to stop tormenting the only family he had left.
"Stop! Don't hurt them! Please—I'll pay tomorrow!"
"This is the price for failing to pay on time! Take this!"
"What a shame this mother and daughter are so worthless. If only they had better bodies or prettier faces, we could've sold them to the red-light district. Just another filthy peasant family."
"Enough. There's no point in wasting more time here."
One of the men, a mustached brute with sideburns, walked toward the crawling man.
"You said you'd pay tomorrow?"
"Yes! Yes! I swear, I'll pay—no matter what, just don't hurt them anymore..."
The man in a red shirt, black pants, and a gold-buckled belt chuckled without opening his mouth. He patted the bloodied farmer's cheek mockingly.
"Make sure you do, worthless peasant. Or tomorrow, we'll carve out your organs—and your family's—to settle your million-coin debt. Chin up, lowly farmer."
After saying that, the man in red motioned for the others to leave the hut.
The mother, wife to the farmer, stumbled over in tears. Her body, like her daughter's, was bruised all over.
"What are we going to do, Jin?! If we don't pay them tomorrow, they'll kill us... our daughter's in danger, Jin! Do something!"
She shook her husband, who barely managed to sit against the wooden wall, his body trembling.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He had no idea what to do.
"It's over! Our lives are over! If only I hadn't married you back then!"
The wife stood up, not even sparing a glance at her husband. She began packing clothes and belongings. She grabbed their young daughter, who clung to her knees, confused and unaware of what was happening.
"We're leaving—now—before they come back tomorrow night. Jin, forgive me..."
"Yui! Wait—please, I have one request. Just this once, listen to me."
"Don't you understand, Jin? Hua, our daughter, and you—we're all in danger! This is your fault for borrowing money from them behind our backs! You need to take responsibility—for all of this—with your life!"
"Yui... I have something. One last choice... But I need your help to bring me to him."
"Who, Jin? No one would help us now!"
"There is someone! Our last hope if we want to survive. Please—do it for Hua."
Yui paused, weighing her options: abandon him, or help with a desperate plan.
Her daughter's innocent, wounded gaze gave her pause. Deep inside, the mother still wished for a miracle.
"Mom... are we leaving Dad behind?"
She steeled her heart.
"Can he be trusted?" she asked with hesitation.
Her husband nodded firmly. "I saw him... he pulled a priceless gem from his box and gave it away freely to someone who asked for help."
Though her doubt deepened, she decided to try—for the faintest glimmer of hope.
Together with their daughter, she carried her battered husband through the cold night toward a remote temple at the foot of the forested hill.
There, a monk clad in nothing but black cloth sat cross-legged before a Buddha statue. There is no one but him.
"Jin. Have you made your choice?" the monk asked. The farmer nodded with certainty.
"Who is he, Jin?" his wife whispered, sensing something ominous in the monk's presence. She had seen stag skulls, dead birds, and rats laid as offerings to the deity he worshipped.
"Trust me, he'll help us." The husband tried to reassure her. "What must I do, monk?"
"A ritual. One that brings fortune. We'll conduct it on you. Your debt will vanish by fate's hand."
The monk began drawing a circle of blood around the farmer, strange Chinese glyphs etched inside it. He finished by sketching a star at the center, where the hunched farmer now sat.
"You, woman. Stay outside the circle."
She and her daughter obeyed. The farmer sat in the center, cross-legged.
The monk drew three lines of blood vertically down the farmer's face. Though the ritual seemed grim, the man believed it would work—because he had seen someone else perform it days before.
Finally, the monk placed a full stag head atop the farmer's head and lit thirteen red candles around the blood circle.
"Wait, you didn't do this to the last guy!" the farmer protested, the stag head's stench overwhelming him.
"Your case demands it. The greater the offering, the greater the fortune bestowed by the gods."
Though hesitant, he nodded—for the sake of his family.
"I will now begin the chant."
"聽吾聲兮,永幽之冥;
起於深淵,招彼亡魂.
熱血猶流,心碎魂裂;
以此三獻,啟獄之鎖.
開目矣,古魔之尊,
降臨斯界,噬食生靈!
"Tīng wú shēng xī, yǒng yōu zhī míng;
qǐ yú shēnyuān, zhāo bǐ wáng hún.
rè xuè yóu liú, xīn suì hún liè;
yǐ cǐ sān xiàn, qǐ yù zhī suǒ.
kāi mù yǐ, gǔ mó zhī zūn,
jiàng lín sī jiè, shì shí shēng líng!
"(Hear my voice, O Eternal Darkness;
Rise from the abyss, summon the dead.
Let blood still flow, hearts shatter, souls divide—
With these three offerings, unlock the prison gate.
Open your eyes, Ancient Demon Lord—
Descend upon this world and devour the living!)"
The candle flames flickered wildly. Cold wind howled into the temple.
The young farmer screamed—then deeper and deeper, his cry distorted into something inhuman. From the darkness, a voice seemed to echo within him.
The monk grinned wide. It had worked.
"Jin?" his wife gasped as something sprouted from her husband's head.
A skull grew out of his face, then branched into sharp antlers. His broken arms healed, bones snapping back into place.
"Mom! What's happening to Dad?!" the daughter cried in horror.
"Amazing! I did it! My first successful dark ritual!" The monk knelt, beaming.
The farmer—now transformed—turned side. Something was calling to his hunger.
He saw them: a mother and daughter, clinging to each other in fear.
Ignoring the monk's joyful face, the Stag-Headed One walked toward them.
"NO! STAY BACK! JIN, DON'T COME NEAR US!"
She screamed. But no words could stop the hunger. The Stag-headed creature lunged.
The candles went out. Blood splashed across Buddha's smiling face. A child's scream pierced the night—then..
All became silence.
The monk still grinned, delighted.
"Incredible... finally, after years of failure, my dark ritual succeeded. You're mine now, son."
After devouring the two bodies, the Stag-Headed One turned to the source of voice.
Blood soaked his face and chest. He stared at the monk like a beast. There is still hunger remained.
"It's me, Jin. I made you this way! You are a Witch now!"
"Witch...?"
"Yes! And I am your father who created you!"
"Father..."
Sudden pain stabbed his mind. He heard voices—his wife, his daughter.
Then he remembered. In his hands... were their mutilated corpses.
Inside his stomach, he felt the warmth of their blood and flesh.
"You... monk...!"
Enraged, the Stag-Headed One charged.
The monk conjured a protective spell.
"軸 (zhóu)!" A transparent barrier shielded him.
"Fool! I'm a sorcerer! I can kill a lowly Witch like you!"
He began chanting a fire spell. The Stag-Headed One mimicked the chant.
"引九幽之怒,燃獄火吞魂!
Yǐn jiǔ yōu zhī nù, rán yù huǒ tūn hún!
(Pull fury from the Nine Hells, ignite prison flame to devour souls!)"
Both unleashed their flames—
BOOM!
A black explosion separated them. Only one figure remained standing.
The Stag-Headed Witch, wielding a massive scythe of bone and black mist, stood tall.
The monk had been thrown back.
"No, no! Don't kill me! I made you! You exist because of me!"
Dragging his burnt body away, the monk begged.
The Witch ignored him. Raising the scythe—
"A mere farmer like you should couldn't kept sane! You only ate two humans! I'm never heard a Witch can get their sanity back after eat two live!"
"My family... they were... my family!"
SLASH!
Blood spread across the temple floor.
And all that remained was a Witch.
A monster who had lost his humanity—and his heart.
***