Azazel

Epilogue

The horror now takes place in a dim, winding lane in Seoul. The noises of distant traffic and city life hum in the background as neon lights flicker overhead, but Detective Jae-Hyun Kim remains motionless, his eyes darting over the shadows. His breathing quickens as he senses the tug of something familiar. At the far end of the alley, a man emerges. It is Jisoo, his sister, exactly as she appeared all those years ago: youthful, naive, and wearing the same outfits. Her grin is inviting, almost too gentle, but for some reason it makes him shudder.

In a desperate attempt to reach her, Jae-Hyun shouts out, but the alley seems to go on forever, separating them more. With each stride backward, Jisoo's form starts to change. The pavement beneath her feet dissolves into soft, shifting sand, and the bustling city surrounding them disappears. The bright lights of Seoul disappear into the night, to be replaced by an unsettling, never-ending desert.

As Jisoo ventures deeper into the desert, her form contorts and her innocent features change. Her eyes used to be bright, but now they are glowing, serpentine slits, while her complexion turns pale, her hair grows longer and darker. As her body fully transforms into Lilith, the old, alluring figure of chaos and darkness, her mouth curves into a savage smile. She's not his sister anymore, at least not the one he knew.

With his feet sinking into the sand and the universe rearranging itself around him in terrifying waves, Jae-Hyun staggers after her. He calls her name again, but the deafening quiet makes it difficult for him to be heard. His mind reels from watching Lilith, who is now escorted by an odd scapegoat who has bright red eyes. The creature is as evil as the desert itself, its black fur tangled and emblazoned with eerie markings.

Now completely changed, Lilith approaches the scapegoat with slow, methodical steps. As she puts her lips to the goat's, Jae-Hyun looks on in terror as they share a hideous, sinister kiss. As though she were in possession of the thing, her long, bony fingers coil around its neck. The image is both obscene and mesmerizing, a warped synthesis of the evil powers she represents.

With her lips stained with a dark, viscous fluid, she breaks away from the scapegoat and looks at Jae-Hyun. Her teeth are jagged and pointy when she smiles. Even with its distortion, her voice nevertheless betrays a hint of Jisoo's now-corrupted innocence from infancy. She teases him by pointing out that he had always been afraid of this, afraid of what was out there in the dark, while he clung to the protection of the bright, busy metropolis.

Lilith escapes deeper into the desert, dragging the scapegoat by its horns as the winds pick up and the sand starts to whirl. When Jae-Hyun tries to follow, the ground gives way and he is dragged into the shifting sands. His voice hoarse and frantic, he shouts out, but Lilith disappears into the distance, her laughter resonating through the desolate desert.

The oppressive silence overwhelms Jae-Hyun, causing him to sink into the sand. The neon lights of Seoul have long since vanished, engulfed by the boundless desert, leaving him all by himself. He is overcome with guilt, powerless to stop the nightmare, and the awareness that his hunt for his sister might never come to an end.

It was all a dream. Mother of Pus, Shub-Niggurath, get the fuck out of my sleep, he thought.

Jae-Hyun had darker dreams as the days merged into one another. Frequently, he would awaken in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, his heart pounding, and visions of his sister's face turning into Lilith's pestering his mind. And in the corner of his eye, the identical symbols that were carved into the city's foundations always seemed to pulse and change in the background.

Although it seemed like nothing had changed, Jae-Hyun was aware of something different. Even though the society was upended, its influence persisted because it was ingrained in the very fabric of the city. The invisible, the sacrifices, and the rituals all went on, silently humming beneath the surface of everyday existence, unseen to those who were unaware of their surroundings.

It was a world of shadows and masks, of invisible energies. And Jae-Hyun sensed it, felt the occult waiting for the next move, like a second heartbeat in the city's breast, hiding in the gaps between moments.

Growing up in Seoul forty years ago, Jae-Hyun Kim was a quiet and contemplative youth living in the 1990s haze. Life had not been simple at all. He had grown up learning to rely on himself since he was an orphan before he could even begin to comprehend the full weight of loss.

Jae-Hyun was astute, though. Very much so. He had always been an excellent student, driven not just by a strong desire to learn but also by a desperate attempt to break free from the family's history of poverty. He saw a ray of light when he heard about an American green card program for gifted foreign students; it offered him the opportunity to start again far away from the memories of his parents' mistakes. There was intense competition for the program, with candidates from all over South Korea fighting for a few number of slots. With the same fervor that propelled him to the top of his class, Jae-Hyun pushed himself into the application process.

It was a bittersweet day when he got his acceptance letter. He was no longer among us. Now that his efforts had paid off, he was leaving for America, a country he saw as offering opportunity, freedom, and the chance for a fresh start. But nobody remained to share the celebration with. No father to give him a pat on the back and tell him he was proud, no mother to cry tears of happiness for him. The win felt somehow empty because it was his alone.

Nevertheless, he gathered his little possessions and departed from the sole environment he had ever experienced, boarding an aircraft that would transport him thousands of miles from the Seoul streets that harbored both his most painful recollections and the foundations of his fortitude. When Jae-Hyun looked back on that moment—his escape from a life of struggle and loss—in the years that followed, he realized it had influenced him more than he could have imagined.

Ultimately, life continued on. However, Jae-Hyun always knew that the invisible world existed beneath the surface, waiting for the equilibrium to change once more. The serpent is still biting its own tail, and the righteous is yet to feast from its scales. The ouroboros is attributed to the leviathan, while the asklepios is attributed to the Seraphim.