Clack.
Clack.
A sound resonating at regular intervals.
One clack as the heels of high heels collide with the stairs.
And following it, another sound.
The rhythmic sound of a pair of feet descending the stairs in high heels.
But what is the truth behind it?
Is there truly someone wearing high heels coming down the stairs?
In this desolate place at night, known even as the Ghost Building.
Could there be someone uncomfortably clad in high heels specifically heading underground?
No.
That’s not the case.
Clack.
Clack.
Accompanied by the clacking sound, it moves.
With countless hands flailing about.
A bizarre shape, as if made from numerous hands.
On those two hands, instead of gloves, high heels are worn.
It moves while these countless hands wildly flail.
Gripping the handrail, touching the wall, reaching up to the ceiling, as if trying to occupy the entire passageway.
It grotesquely moves with its many tentacles dangling in the cramped hallway.
That movement resembles not a human but something akin to seafood with countless tentacles or an insect.
So, if one were to see its form while sober, they would shriek in terror, their legs giving way, collapsing right there.
Otherwise, they might flee in the opposite direction out of sheer fear.
But unfortunately, there are no sober souls to witness its form.
Only the regular eerie sounds it makes.
The clacking sound artificially produced as the hands move.
Even though the actual steps are composed of countless hands, the sound of movement comes solely from the pair of high heels worn on those hands.
As if to flaunt its own passage.
Or perhaps trying to mimic the actions it once had as a human, yearning for that time.
It’s not hard to understand.
Just as a person wants to walk on their feet, they sought out high heels.
Unable to walk on feet, they put high heels on their hands instead.
So, while the body and legs move together, the sound of high heels is heard in correspondence.
That figure imitating a person is pitiful.
Truly, it is pathetic.
However, the flailing of those countless hands bears something alien from humanity.
A flower arrangement made by a wicked child’s heart is not nearly as horrifying as this…
And it has finally arrived.
To the pitiful souls trapped below, with their hazy eyes.
[But isn’t the underground too vast? Is it the spatial anomaly that makes it seem so? How about we open our senses just a bit?]
[Could it be a formation technique? That sounds quite likely. What do you think?]
[But still, since the master is a shaman, it’s not too far-fetched to think some formation technique was set up. I’ve heard some techniques mix martial arts with magic, so utilizing that could make this kind of trickery feasible, don’t you think?]
[No way, formation techniques? That’s ridiculous. If it were a Chinese shaman, maybe, but this one is a shaman from the Republic of Korea. Surely, they’re not clueless about their country’s status as a magic desert.]
[But wait. There might still be some magic left worth investigating. Isn’t that why we’re here? Don’t dismiss it too lightly. Even if it’s globally famous as a magic desert, that’s no reason a rich person would fail easily. A great horse doesn’t die easily! No matter what hardships befall it, it must have left some traces! So, the chance of having learned a formation technique is quite high!]
[If that’s the case, it becomes a bit problematic. If a mechanism is in place to alert to someone entering the formation… We might have been discovered by now.]
[No, it’s fine. We came here with those odd folks experiencing a haunted house, so we can just wrap things up quickly and leave. Plus, if they step into the underground, they’ll be the ones touching the formation, right? A little manipulation of evidence here and there ought to suffice. The shaman wouldn’t suspect anything, given those haunted house goers would likely have caused chaos.]
A conversation unfolds among them.
Amidst this chatter, the whispers of the ghost slyly weave themselves in.
And between their dialogues, whispers that lead their thoughts echo near their ears.
Protruding lips from the walls whisper, a ghost with a body resembling rags whispers, and something that lowered its hair from the ceiling whispers to them.
Keeping them overly vigilant, preventing their dulled minds from awakening.
Thus, the ghosts delicately manipulate them.
It’s not a difficult task.
While such ghosts gathering have their strength, that is, there existed a divine object that connected them with intangible threads, lending power to their words.
Intangible threads.
That formless entity was connected to the ghosts, just like smoke rising from incense.
So faint it could easily be mistaken for an illusion even under bright lights, a presence so thin it entirely vanishes in darkness—an inconspicuous shape.
Yet, it was linked to the spirits of the ghosts.
Formed from a singular divine object, nonetheless.
And that object was a person, crafted from something that had ceased to be a person.
A part of it once belonged to someone once nicknamed ‘Sundae.’
A person who grotesquely transformed after being enchanted by a fairy.
And unfortunately, that same person ended up falling into hell.
However, while a tiger leaves its skin behind when it dies, a person leaves behind their name.
Even ‘Sundae’ left something after death.
And while it wasn’t processed, it became the core and part of a defensive mechanism woven by Jinseong, granting invaluable assistance.
This is the law of nature.
Even in death, all things remain connected, does it not bring some comfort?
Thus, one must pay reverence to nature.
For nothing squanders its existence aimlessly…
[Good things are above, bad things below. God shaped it, and what pleases the eye goes upward, resembling the form of God. Hence, its name is ‘human,’ proving they are divine creations. Thus, all evil beings envied, hated, yet also admired them.]
[Then what lies below? Below, all sorts of wretchedness, evil, and filth have fallen. It would be unfit to call it a divine creation, too unsightly to look upon. Hence, what goes downward is not a divine creation, nor pleasant to behold, it belongs strictly below and is in the grasp of a malevolent entity controlling the underworld.]
Look.
Don’t those ghosts understand this principle as well?
Hence, they wouldn’t back down until their whispers approached ‘it.’
[Arm]
Crack!
As it reaches out with many hands to tear away the arms it aims to attach to its body, it bewitches their minds.
Devouring their legs to create legs it lacks.
Even when their limbs are ripped away, unable to feel pain, sprawled on the ground with vacant expressions, flailing helplessly.
[My body feels a bit uneasy. Perhaps resting a little wouldn’t be a bad idea…]
They whisper.
Whisper…
Mockingly at those who stepped into the underground foolishly.
*
Gasp.
Gasp.
[What on earth is that…!]
Those who headed underground had bad luck.
That place had taken on the properties of ‘hell’ due to Jinseong’s magic, resembling a ghost den filled with spirits he had captured and released.
Not only that, there were divine objects made from the gathered materials placed all around, too… If one stepped into the underground without something special or a strong mental foothold, they would most likely become entranced.
And in this building, being entranced by a ghost signified loss.
Those hypnotized would lose something.
Be it a part of their body, their sanity, or something even more abstract and formless.
In that regard, the team leader and team members heading upward were fortunate.
At least, when considering that they avoided the worst, using the phrase ‘lucky’ isn’t unfounded.
But avoiding the worst doesn’t mean it’s the best option.
After the worst comes the second-worst.
Their situation was precisely that.
Their first misfortune was…
[Hands, hands like sea urchins! A sea urchin made of hands!]
They had, rather unfortunate, encountered ‘it’ descending from above.
However, as previously stated, they weren’t at their worst.
Thus, they could escape to another floor through the door.
Without attracting the attention of ‘it,’ which was rushing down the stairs to feast on the prey in the underground.
