“Ugh! How creepy!”
Yeon Cheonguk threw the dictionary down in horror. The electronic dictionary that fell on the sofa stopped in an awkwardly open position. Even that sight, stopped at a mysterious angle, gave him goosebumps as if the inanimate object had a soul.
It wouldn’t do to have such an object when he was already sensitive ahead of his lead cast performance. It brought bad luck.
He didn’t even have time to think about the used bookstore owner. Yeon Cheonguk stuffed the electronic dictionary into a trash bag.
That wasn’t enough, so he took the trash bag and left the entrance. Only after running to the stairwell at the end of the hallway and throwing it into the collection space did he feel relieved.
“Phew…. Hot water. Oh, and close the window too.”
He placed a cup on the water purifier and got warm water. He ordered the window that had been opened by the strong wind to be closed, but the home AI didn’t respond.
Yeon Cheonguk turned around with an annoyed expression. But wait, wasn’t the window that had been open until just moments ago now properly closed?
……Did the wind blow again and close it? Or did I not hear the sound of the window closing automatically?
The feeling of an invisible spirit being together. Yeon Cheonguk forcibly shook off the chilling thought and turned off the living room lights.
***
The flame special effects he had seen on his junior’s stage a few days ago unfolded right in front of him. Standing on stage, the heat felt even hotter to Yeon Cheonguk. The heat pouring over his skin felt exactly real.
Why does the fake flame feel like it’s real? Yeon Cheonguk pondered while singing passionately.
Were you a coward?
Don’t be afraid. This isn’t real fire.
He finished the trio in the flames, pouring out all his energy. Sweat poured down like rain. At the end of a void filled with darkness, silence, and the sound of breathing, a delicate melody flowed.
Yeon Cheonguk caught his breath in front of countless audience members. Cold, blue lighting flowed down. On stage, under the bluish light, Yeon Cheonguk became a non-existent presence, standing in a place that couldn’t reach anyone in the world. The ghost in a white shirt, hovering around his lover, began to sing.
A single line of song that pierced through the darkness echoed throughout the concert hall.
Oh, my love
my darling
I’ve been longing for your touch
Yeon Cheonguk restrained his surging emotions and began the next song. As he opened his mouth to sing ‘my love’, Yeon Cheonguk witnessed a strange sight.
A whitish image was forming on the smoke beyond the lighting.
It was within the remnants of smoke that hadn’t yet dissipated. Something overlapped in the hazy white fog. It was the shape of someone lying down with their hands folded, their face covered with pure white cloth.
It looked like a deceased person who had just passed away. Yeon Cheonguk frowned slightly. Is it a new special effect…?
He boldly tore his eyes away from the form flickering in the smoke. Yeon Cheonguk moved his steps and slowly approached his lover sitting in front of the stage.
For so long, so lonely
Time passes only slowly
Time can change so many things
Are you still mine
The sad song slowly built to a climax. A sorrowful appeal directed at the audience and lover filled the stage.
Still, still I need you…!
It was a vocal power famous for being powerful. The moment the song spread beyond the stage far into the audience seats, and his wet throat trembled at the end, moistening the hearts of the listeners.
A pure white image began to form again in the smoke. The image that covered Yeon Cheonguk’s vision as he poured out his earnestness was none other than a corpse. It was definitely a corpse wrapped in white cloth.
Despite the strange experience, Yeon Cheonguk finished the song safely without wavering. Amid the thunderous cheers, what came to mind was the writing he had seen on the electronic dictionary yesterday.
‘故 Hwang Jegu.
Goddamn stupid.
Died August 19, 2009.’
***
Damn it. Damn! He must have been influenced by that strange object.
He did well to throw it away. That unlucky electronic dictionary would be in the apartment trash area, so if he went in late tonight, it wouldn’t come close again.
As Sunbae Kim said, how empty and lonely must his side have been for him to experience something like this? Yeon Cheonguk couldn’t stand being angry at his own weakness.
“Yeon. Are you okay?”
Sunbae Kim knocked on the waiting room door. He had cleverly noticed Yeon Cheonguk’s slight poor condition.
“I’m fine. I guess my emotions got intense.”
“I was startled, thinking you were crying. Your throat isn’t hurt, is it?”
“No, nothing like that. By the way, where’s the stage effects team this time? That white ghost-like effect overlapping the smoke. It felt really realistic.”
“Huh? What effect?”
“When I was singing my solo number, some kind of image was flickering on the smoke?”
The sunbae, who had been wrapping a warmed towel tightly around Yeon Cheonguk’s neck, frowned.
“What image? Are you saying they shot a beam onto the smoke? There’s no video effect in that part though?”
“……Only fog?”
“Right. The stage technical setting itself is exactly the same as the weekday performance. Nothing more was added.”
“……”
If the corpse covered with white cloth on the autopsy table wasn’t a special effect…. It would be one of three things. Either a hallucination, déjà vu, or an optical illusion.
To see things that aren’t there during a performance… should I even go to the hospital?
At that moment, Yeon Cheonguk was seized by a strong intuition. That he needed to find the electronic dictionary and destroy it. That if he didn’t do something about it, these strange things wouldn’t end.
A strangely intense desire, sense of duty, adrenaline. If this was the concept of synchronicity, it seemed a little understandable…!
Yeon Cheonguk, who had rushed out of the backstage, drove his car to the used bookstore. As it was late at night, the bookstore door was closed as expected.
He had no choice but to go to the single-story house attached behind the store. When he pressed the bell despite the rudeness, the owner grandfather opened the gate with corn in hand, smacking his lips.
“What is it?”
“Boss. Where did you say you got that electronic dictionary from? Do you remember the specific address?”
“I think it was behind the youth center? Why all of a sudden?”
“Around where? Please try marking it once on this map.”
He turned on the map app and held it out. Yeon Cheonguk’s face turned pale as he confirmed the place the grandfather pointed to.
This was really strange. Beyond creepy, it was even scary.
Why on earth was the electronic dictionary of a dead person named Hwang Jegu found at Yeon Cheonguk’s old house site! And buried deep under the linoleum as if it had been sealed!
“Ha….. It belonged to a dead person. I threw it away, but the more I think about it, the stranger it is.”
“Really? How did you know it was a relic?”
“The death date was written on it. On the battery cover.”
“Ugh, someone must have played a prank. A dead person couldn’t have written their own name! Were they bullied or something?”
“……”
Well, that’s true. The deceased person couldn’t have written their own name later.
However, just the fact that this dictionary was found at a location presumed to be where Yeon Cheonguk lived gave him chills in various ways.
Should I go visit the old house? Even if I go, the people who lived there would have moved out, so what results could there be?
The owner left one remark to Yeon Cheonguk, who was turning around with a troubled expression.
“Don’t obsess over creepy objects and just forget about it!”
That’s right. Obsessing over it would only bring bad luck. If he just passed it over as if it never happened, it would be over, but his instincts were refusing that. Some unknown motive was igniting Yeon Cheonguk’s extinguished passion.
Arriving home, Yeon Cheonguk sat in front of his computer.
‘August 19, 2009’. He tried searching, hoping to find a clue from the death date. He searched through about 30 pages like catching mice, but it was futile. There was no obituary, no incident article. It was the same even when he expanded the search from Seoul to nationwide.
Then…. If it’s such a unique name, wouldn’t something come up in the search?
‘Hwang Jegu’. He entered the name into the search box without hesitation.
Yeon Cheonguk’s face darkened further as he moved the mouse scroll for several minutes.
“Not even one…… there’s no trace. Absolutely no trace.”
At the very least, Facebook or Instagram traces should come up.
How could this be? As if they were carefully selected and removed.
As if a person named Hwang Jegu never existed in this world.
Should I inquire at high schools or middle schools near the house where the electronic dictionary was found? To ask if there was a graduate named Hwang Jegu between 2009 and 2011, I’d have to wait until 9 AM tomorrow morning. Even if I ask, would they teach such things to an outsider?
Yeon Cheonguk, rubbing the rim of his whiskey glass with his index finger, tried entering one more search term after the name.
Keywords like ‘Hwang Jegu graduation’, ‘Hwang Jegu congratulations’, ‘Hwang Jegu birthday’. Just in case any posts written by acquaintances might come up. After several attempts, Yeon Cheonguk stopped the mouse scroll.
It was a web document titled <His Majesty Hwang Jegu’s 15th Birthday Spanking Party>.
