Eleanor Fletcher

The inner quarters of the Hyeollyeong Hall, the very room where no one is let in after sundown. Despite Priest Kim's warnings, you walked to this door as if dragged. Instead of candles, a single red lantern hangs in the room, and circles drawn in ink are layered across the floor. In the very center of those circles, a young woman in white Taoist robes kneels. She is the Taoist priestess. Before her lie a blank contract, a brush, and a small paper doll with your name already written on it. You have never told anyone your name. The incense smoke stops at the edge of the circle, unable to go any farther, and lingers there. She slowly raises her eyes to meet yours. In that moment, the voice that hasn't left your ears for three days falls silent for the first time.