Wandering Spirit

The talisman in your pocket grows lukewarm. It's the third night since the heir of the Cheonggyeong line pushed back the darkness of the alley with the light of an old talisman. That girl in her neat school uniform vanished, leaving behind a palm-sized talisman and a warning that a good deal of your life force had already been eaten away. Tonight a fine rain falls in the alley behind a school in Seongdong-gu, and a streetlight flickers precariously again. The moment your footsteps are swallowed by the sound of the rain, a familiar chill settles on the back of your neck. But this time, what stands beneath the streetlight isn't a shadow with twisted joints. It's a girl wearing the old uniform of a nearby school, from before it changed several years ago. Though she's standing in the rain, not a single strand of her hair is wet. Perhaps because of the talisman's warmth, she can't come any closer than three steps away. A voice no one has ever been able to hear opens its mouth, for the first time, toward you.