Chapter 8
“Who are you?” I finally whispered into the dark, my voice trembling. “Why are you helping us?”
A soft golden light suddenly bloomed in the cramped space, illuminating a small, dusty alcove right beside us.
Sitting in the alcove was an old wooden statue. It was the statue of the Kitchen God. The same statue Grandma used to light incense for every morning, but it wasn’t in the kitchen anymore.
I am the one who has watched over this house for three generations.
The voice resonated, seemingly coming from the statue itself.
Your grandmother was a devout woman. She fed me, honored me, and in return, I kept the evil spirits at bay. But she grew old. She grew sick. And when she was bedridden, none of your relatives stepped into the kitchen to light my incense. The barrier weakened.
“So Grandma is dead?” I asked, my voice breaking.
“She passed away three days ago,” the Kitchen God replied gently. “The thing walking around in her skin is a corpse stealer, a malevolent spirit from the mountains that preys on dying households. It takes the form of the deceased and uses a game of hide-and-seek to harvest the souls of the bloodline. Every time it finds someone, it consumes their life force to anchor itself to the physical world.”
“Why did it make us play hide-and-seek?” I asked, wiping tears from River’s face.
“Because it needs permission. A spirit cannot simply murder a bloodline. By agreeing to play the game, your family inadvertently accepted the rules of the hunt. They gave it permission to take them if they were found.”
A sickening wave of realization washed over me. When Grandma rallied from her deathbed, smiling and asking us to play hide-and-seek, we all agreed. We said yes. We sealed our own doom.
“But you and River are innocent,” the Kitchen God continued. “You are the only ones your grandmother truly loved. Her dying wish was for your safety. Her lingering will, combined with my remaining power, has hidden you this far. But my power is fading. The shift ended at sundown. The house is entirely under the creature’s domain.”
“Now what do we do?” I pleaded, looking at the wooden statue. “The front gate is locked from the inside. Uncle Garrett put the heavy iron padlock on it before dinner.”
“You cannot go out the front gate,” the Kitchen God warned. “The creature is guarding the courtyard. It is waiting for you to make a run for it. You must go to the cellar beneath the west room. There is an old drainage tunnel that leads out to the dry riverbed behind the house. It is small, but you and your brother can fit.”
“The west room,” I repeated, a chill running down my spine. “Uncle Neil was the second one caught. He was in the west room.”
“Yes. The creature left his body there. You must be quiet. You must be fast. But most importantly…”
The golden light emanating from the statue began to flicker and dim.
“Do not look at the bodies. Do not acknowledge the dead. If you show fear or grief for the ones it has taken, it will sense your emotion and find you instantly.”
The light went out entirely. We were plunged back into complete darkness.