Baek Hwan could hardly contain his excitement. He was a twelve-year-old boy with the world at his feet—innocent, carefree, and blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the distance. His father, an ambitious man with an ever-steady resolve, was already planning his next big corporate move. His mother, always nurturing, was bustling about, her every step filled with warmth and care, making sure everything was packed for their journey. The house was filled with the light sound of laughter, the scent of packed lunches, and the hum of family togetherness. Nothing felt more normal, more perfect.
"Are you ready for Japan, Hwan?" His father's voice echoed from the hallway as he adjusted his suit.
Baek Hwan, bouncing on his heels, couldn't stop grinning. "Yeah, Papa! I can't wait! We'll see all the cool things! I'll make new friends, and we can explore the city together!"
His mother smiled warmly as she adjusted his jacket, brushing off the dust from his sleeves. "You'll love it there, darling. New adventures, new experiences." She leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. "It's a big change, but we'll be okay. We'll be together, and that's all that matters."
Baek Hwan hugged his mother tightly. "I'm glad we're all together, Mom. I'm happy we're moving together."
The sound of his father's voice rang through the house again. "We're all set, honey! The car's ready."
He rushed to the door, his small hand gripping the knob. "I'm ready! Let's go, Papa!"
The journey to Japan seemed endless, but it was filled with laughter. They sang songs in the car, made silly jokes, and played games. Baek Hwan was the glue that kept everything light and fun, always the one to find humor in everything, even the smallest of things. His mother and father laughed along, their faces glowing with contentment, their hearts full of hope for the future.
They played games in the car to pass the time. His father made up stories about pirates, and his mother would join in with exaggerated accents, making the whole car erupt in laughter. Baek Hwan was the heart of it all, his infectious energy filling the space.
Later that evening, as they drove through the countryside, his mother pointed out the stars above. "Do you see that, Hwan? Those stars are always there, even when we can't see them. Like our love for each other—always there, no matter where we go."
"I'll always remember that," Baek Hwan said, his small voice carrying the sincerity of someone far older than his years.
They stopped for the night at a small roadside inn. The air smelled of fresh pine, the sky a deep, velvety purple, stars twinkling overhead. They had dinner together, enjoying the warmth of each other's company, talking about everything and nothing. The world outside seemed so vast and full of possibilities.
But that night, the possibilities came to an abrupt and violent end.
The sound of tires screeching filled the air, a noise so sharp it made the world seem to freeze. The car veered, jolted off course, and then… everything went black.
Baek Hwan's body jerked, his heart hammering in his chest as he awoke, his mind foggy. He could feel the weight of something—dark, heavy—pressing down on him. His body was crushed, tangled in the seatbelt, his limbs unresponsive. The world around him spun, a whirl of colors and sounds that didn't make sense.
When he tried to move, a sharp pain shot through his body. The car had flipped, now resting upside down. His chest heaved with shallow breaths, but he couldn't make sense of the world. The last thing he heard was his mother's voice, faint and distant, calling his name.
"Mom… Dad…" His voice trembled as he tried to push himself up, only to collapse back down.
The world outside was silent, deathly quiet.
But then he heard something that made his blood run cold.
A guttural growl. A horrible sound, like the very earth itself was being torn apart.
He turned his head. The creatures were there—monstrous figures with twisted, gnarled limbs, their skin slick and dark as if covered in oil. Their faces were grotesque, mouths too wide with rows of jagged teeth that gleamed in the dim light. They moved quickly, too quickly for him to comprehend, tearing at his parents' bodies with an unnatural hunger.
His father's body was ripped apart before his eyes, the Yokai devouring him in a frenzy. The savage sounds of crunching, gnawing, and tearing filled the air, too real, too horrifying to comprehend. Baek Hwan's heart hammered painfully in his chest as he screamed, but no one could hear him.
The creatures turned their eyes to him.
Their mouths opened wider, revealing more teeth, jagged and stained with the blood of his parents. A horrible sense of inevitability filled Baek Hwan's veins as they dragged him from the wreckage, tearing at his clothes, sinking their teeth into his flesh.
He screamed in agony, but it didn't matter. The pain was unbearable, his body torn apart piece by piece, until nothing remained of him but pain and rage. His mother and father's mangled bodies lay in the dirt beside him, their blood staining the earth, their bodies like a spaghetti. He felt his consciousness slipping, darkness clouding his mind.
And then, everything faded to darkness.
Baek Hwan woke up in a place so dark that it felt as if the light itself had abandoned it.
Baek Hwan's awakening was not gentle. The moment he opened his eyes, he was greeted by a landscape of endless void—a churning, fiery expanse where the air was thick with the scent of sulfur and ash. The heat radiated from the ground, a searing warmth that felt like it could burn him alive if he dared touch it. Yet, there was something far worse than the physical torment—something intangible and suffocating that gnawed at his soul.
Hell.
He couldn't see the sky, but he could feel it, pressing down on him with an oppressive weight. It was as if the very atmosphere were alive, a heavy, invisible presence that suffocated every breath, every thought. The ground beneath his feet was cracked, blackened stone, pocked with craters filled with liquid fire. The flames licked the edges of the cracks like hungry tongues, threatening to devour anything that came too close.
He tried to move, but his limbs felt stiff, like they were made of stone. His body ached with an unbearable weight, and for a moment, he wondered if he was even real anymore. The agony in his chest was unbearable, like an endless gnawing hunger that could never be sated. His mind flashed with images—his parents, their screams for help, the grotesque, gaping mouths of the Yokai. The memories bled into his every thought, tainting the very essence of his being.
But Hell… Hell was worse than any pain he could imagine. It wasn't the physical torment that kept him here. It was something far more insidious—something deeper.
Around him, endless screams echoed, rising from the very bowels of this forsaken place. Baek Hwan turned, his eyes darting over the landscape, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The air was thick with anguish, as if the very land was crying out in pain. He could see shapes moving—flickering shadows in the distance that vanished as quickly as they appeared. They weren't human, nor were they Yokai. They were… something else. Beings that flickered between forms, grotesque and unnatural, half-human, half-monster, wailing in a torment that mirrored his own.
A shadowy figure lumbered past, its skin peeling from its body, revealing a molten underlayer of flesh. Its eyes were wide and hollow, as if the very act of seeing was painful for it. Baek Hwan shuddered as the figure's gaze passed over him, its hollow eyes locking with his for a brief, agonizing moment. There was no pity in those eyes—only a deep, unyielding void. As it passed, Baek Hwan could hear its voice, a raspy whisper that echoed in his mind.
"Endless… endless… endless pain."
The world around him flickered again, and Baek Hwan was suddenly surrounded by an array of other torments. There were figures, bound in chains, their bodies covered in rags. They dragged themselves through the molten ash, their faces frozen in permanent screams, lips cracked, bodies twisted in unimaginable ways. The ground they crawled upon burned their skin, yet they couldn't stop—couldn't move any faster. As if something greater, more malevolent, kept them bound to this endless cycle.
But the worst, the absolute worst part, was the endless clockwork of despair. Every so often, Baek Hwan would hear the heavy, mechanical sound of gears turning—massive, rusted, ancient gears, turning in the distance. It wasn't something mechanical. It was something alive. It was as though Hell itself had its own heartbeat, each turn of the gears causing the very earth to quake beneath him. He saw a massive figure, half-human, half-machine, shackled to these gears, its body forced to turn them endlessly. Blood poured from its eyes, mouth, and ears, as it cried out, but the gears never stopped.
The thing didn't die. It just endured.
It felt like his soul was sinking deeper, too. Every week-months-years in this hellish prison was an eternity. The weight of it crushed him in waves, flooding his mind with visions of his parents' deaths, the Yokai's hideous faces, and the gnashing teeth that tore them apart. His entire body trembled in anguish, as if it were unraveling under the weight of a hundred years of torment.
And then, a voice.
It was soft at first—a whisper barely audible against the wailing of the damned—but it grew, as though it were coming from the very depths of the abyss itself. Her voice. The one that had been echoing in his mind for years. The one that had tormented him since his death.
"Baek Hwan… Do you want to end your suffering? Do you want to take revenge on those who took everything you love from you?"
Her voice was both calming and terrifying. It seemed to stroke the raw, open wounds of his mind, drawing out the deepest corners of his rage. The memories of his parents' violent death flooded him again—their screams, the horrifying image of their disfigured corpses. And there, in the depths of Hell, it felt like a part of him was finally allowed to break free, to let that rage consume him completely.
Baek Hwan's fists clenched. His breath came in shallow gasps. "Yes."
Baek wanted it. He wanted the pain to end. He wanted to kill every last Yokai. He wanted revenge.
The ground trembled as the voice responded. "Then, I will make you a deal."
A figure appeared before him—a presence wrapped in shadow, yet shining with a dark power. She was tall, slender, with crimson eyes that gleamed in the darkness of the hellish landscape. Her presence seemed to suck the light from the world around her, tho she was tied in chains. She was everything that had tormented him, everything that he had come to despise. Yet, in her gaze, there was something else—something deeper, more dangerous.
"I can give you what you want," the voice said, now more tangible, more real than ever before. "I will return you to the land of living, give you immense strength and abilities to annihilate any Yokai that ever cross your path, in exchange your very existence will belong to me, YOU WILL BE MY VESSEL IN THE LAND OF THE LIVING, do you accept, Baek Hwan"
The words hung in the air like a trap.
He had nothing left. Nothing but the need for revenge.
"Yes", he growled through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse, his soul burning with fury. "YES"
The ground trembled, and Baek Hwan felt his body jerk as something pulled him upward.
The ground trembled. A hand burst through the dirt where his body had been buried. The journey had only just begun.
The chapter ends.