A Legendary sacrifice S1

A legendary sacrifice S1. -- Part 1

Part 1 -- the cursed village.

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Yoon So-hee, a struggling journalist, was known for her investigative pieces on folklore and paranormal activity. One day, her editor assigned her a peculiar story about a small, traditional village named Hanok Village, hidden deep in the mountains. The village was rumored to be haunted, with no visitors daring to stay overnight. People whispered of strange occurrences, mysterious deaths, and vanishing villagers.

So-hee, ever the skeptic, decided to investigate, confident that the ghost stories were just myths. Armed with her camera, a notebook, and her determination, she set out for Hanok Village.

The journey to the village was eerie. The closer So-hee got, the thicker the fog became, obscuring her path. By the time she reached the village, it was nearly dusk. The village seemed frozen in time, with old hanoks (traditional Korean houses) lining narrow, winding streets. The air was heavy with an unsettling silence, broken only by the occasional rustling of leaves.

She was greeted by the village's elderly leader, Halmeoni Kim, a frail woman with piercing eyes that seemed to see through her. "You should not have come," Halmeoni Kim said, her voice a mere whisper. "The spirits here are restless."

So-hee brushed off the warning and was shown to a small hanok where she would stay for the night. The house was beautifully preserved, but it carried an air of sorrow, as if it had witnessed too many tragedies. The moment she stepped inside, she felt a sudden chill. Despite the warm weather outside, the air in the hanok was ice-cold.

Determined to document everything, So-hee set up her camera. As she explored the house, she noticed strange symbols etched into the wooden beams and paper talismans hanging from the ceiling. They were old, their ink faded, but they clearly held some significance. So-hee photographed them, planning to research their meaning later.

As night fell, the atmosphere in the village grew even more unsettling. So-hee sat down to review her notes, but found it hard to concentrate. Shadows seemed to dance in the corners of her vision, and the silence was almost deafening.

Suddenly, she heard a soft knock at the door. When she opened it, no one was there. Just as she was about to close the door, she caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye. A figure stood at the edge of the courtyard, dressed in traditional white mourning clothes. Their face was obscured by a long veil.

Curious and unnerved, So-hee called out, but the figure did not respond. She stepped outside, but as soon as she did, the figure disappeared into the fog. The village seemed even more deserted now, as if it had been abandoned long ago.

Returning to the hanok, So-hee tried to calm her racing heart. Perhaps the village was playing tricks on her mind. But when she reviewed the footage on her camera, her blood ran cold. In every shot of the hanok, there was a shadowy figure lurking in the background-sometimes in a doorway, sometimes in a window. It was as if someone, or something, was watching her.

The hours dragged on, and the atmosphere grew heavier. Around midnight, the talismans hanging from the ceiling began to flutter, despite the absence of any breeze. The air seemed to grow colder, and So-hee felt an overwhelming sense of dread. Something was terribly wrong.

Suddenly, a loud knock echoed through the hanok. It was not the soft knock she had heard earlier; this was forceful, insistent. Heart pounding, she cautiously approached the door. When she opened it, there was no one there, but a gust of icy wind rushed past her, extinguishing the candles inside.