The Dead Hunter

This is a Hades and Persephone type of story, based off of Eastern Asian folklore with some elements of Halloween for the 2024 Halloween event. As a warning, there are nonconsent themes present in the story, hence its category. Enjoy!

[Kkachi, or magpies, are very intimately intertwined with Korean folklore related to death and the underworld.]

-

He put one foot in front of the other, slowly and steadily. After lifetimes of stalking around the forest, he had no trouble at all concealing every trace of his presence. He made no sound, neither from the crisp autumn brush that threatened to crunch underneath his feet, nor from the soft breaths that he released from his mouth in measured exhales. The arrows too in his quiver seemed to obey his command of silence, and they never clicked against each other, even when he had to duck to dodge the wiry branches that grew in whatever directions they pleased.

Although he was as silent as a man could be, there was no stopping his breaths from leaving his mouth as little puffs of smoke. It was becoming winter now, and the frost had come early this year. His furs did a great deal of keeping him warm, but he liked to keep his arms exposed. It made for better hunting. The chill had set into his bones long ago, but he was a man of the outdoors, hardened by the elements over the time he'd spent there. He did not complain. Zhang Chen, the dead hunter, was no stranger to making sacrifices for the thrill of the hunt.

As he grew closer to his destination, the familiar friend that was adrenaline had his pulse quickening. A smile spread across his lips, stretching the chapped skin. This was going to be a good hunt.

In his last foray into town, a small area named

Sogang

, he'd sat at the counter of the ale house, drinking his spirits alone. He liked to keep to himself, and apart from short sentences shared with the maiden that tended to the guests, he enjoyed his drink and planned to leave as soon as he finished his bottle.

In fact, he never stayed long in one place, certainly not when he came to pockets of civilization like this. If you were to ask him, he would have said that he didn't need to visit these towns at all, but the truth was that he had a fondness for drink that pulled him out of his otherwise focused hunts.

He'd listened to the voice in his head telling him to head back out to where he was comfortable, and had just put down his empty cup to gather his belongings and stand up. It was no sooner than when his hand touched his knife when a voice behind him made him stop, then put his hand back on his cup.

"Another one," he winked to the girl, who covered her mouth with a hand and giggled. It wasn't long before he had a fresh bottle of ale in front of him. As was customary, the girl poured him the first drink, which he threw back before blowing out the thick vapor of alcohol in a stream of air. He handed her his coin, and she smiled before walking away to service another customer who had called for her.

He poured himself another cup as he listened to the story that was being spun behind him. Typically, Chen made it a habit of tuning out the frivolous conversations of other patrons. Most of the time, they talked about nothing of substance, and he was happy enough to indulge in his drink rather than reach for subpar entertainment. However, every so often, there would be something that would catch his ear, a strand from a tapestry of a story that actually had him listening.

In this instance, it was an old man that caught his ear. As soon as Chen had walked in he knew who this man was: the old drunkard, who told tall tales while living off ale and the attention of anyone who could be foolish enough to give him a few seconds of their time. Often, those few seconds were the start of a few half-hours of helplessly nodding along to whatever the drunkard had to say.

Chen couldn't see what unfortunate soul had been pulled in by the drunkard, but he sat and listened to the slurred words behind him.

"I'm telling you," said the drunkard. "I never saw anything so beautiful like that girl. An odd little thing she was, though, with wings like glass."

"Wings! That's ridiculous, old man."

The drunkard let out a bark of laughter so intense that even the normally unflappable Chen was taken aback. "It was ridiculous. But I'm not lying, and I didn't have a drop of liquor that day either. No, she was

bathing

. At the top of the river. I tell you, if I were but thirty years younger..."

Chen didn't have to turn around to see the perverted smile the old man wore, but he still saw the crooked and toothy thing as he finally stood up, turned around, walked out. Most of his second bottle of ale had been untouched, but he didn't care. He was back on the hunt.

That was how he found himself in the forest, walking to reach the river the drunkard had spoken of.

Sogang

, or little river, was actually quite large. It was only half a day's travel from the town that had been named after it, and Chen had made the journey in less time than that, excited at the prospect of what he would find.

Well, he knew what he would find. He knew that there was always a chance that the old man had made everything up, but over the years Chen had heard whispers of the same story. They were few and far between, but every time he gleaned new pieces of information about them: the

kkachi shin.

The

kkachi shin

, or magpie goddesses, had always piqued Chen's interest. Legends told of the Celestial King's ten daughters, each more beautiful than the last with ghost-like wings that shimmered like smoke. They lived with their father in the heavens, while each of their husbands ruled over the ten floors of hell with heavy hands of great power.

For the

kkachi shin

, though, they were fascinated with the dealings of humans, and could transform into magpies at will, which they would often do just to observe mortal life. It was the only way that the Celestial King would allow them to leave his heavenly realm.

That was, with one exception. On one night of the year, the ten sisters would descend from their father's palace to be cleansed in preparation for their yearly journey to visit their husbands in the underworld. It had to be in a holy place, where the light of the moon could touch every part of their skin and cleanse them of any residue of mortality upon them. If they ever failed to do so, their immortality could be at risk when they entered the underworld. Consequently, every sister would faithfully return to that chosen location come every year's

shinae nal

, or Spirits' Day.

Over the years, Zhang Chen had slowly garnered the different parts of the legend. The legend of the

kkachi shin

originated from the Han people, so that had given him a general area to search. But, a whole country is hardly a small place to look, and he'd spent many decades traveling in a foreign country in the hopes of fulfilling this dream of his. His search was also complicated by the timing of the

kkachi shin's

appearance. Since they only descended to earth once a year, one had to be in the right place at exactly the right time - something that Chen had not yet been able to accomplish.

Funnily enough, it was only when he returned to his own country for rest that he'd gained some more insight into where next to search. He had been feeling particularly ruthless that day, and instead of shooting his prey through the eye as he usually did, he had sent his arrow soaring into the meat of its back leg, so that even as it ran away from him it roared in pain. He'd remained calm, only to deliver two more carefully placed arrows into it - not enough to kill, only maim.

Chen walked close as the tiger gave another roar of pain. An arrow had pierced through its paw and embedded itself into the ground, so that it could not remove itself from where it was pinned to. He could see in its eyes that it knew its time was limited. He unsheathed his knife, the flat gray surface wide and the edge serrated. It was a knife made for killing.

"Wait!" The tiger said, panic in its voice as its eyes tracked the knife. "Please, do not kill me."

"My prey has begged me to spare its life far too many times. I tire of it." It always made a dark chuckle leave Chen's mouth. To beg a hunter to stop hunting was nearly an insult. Mostly he would ignore it and just deliver the killing blow, but this day he didn't mind the idea of toying with his prey.

"I can give you something! What do you need?" The tiger's tail flicked behind it.

"I hunger for your meat, animal."

"What if I can give you well-guarded information? Have you heard of the

kkachi shin

?"

The tiger walked away with its life spared that day, and Chen set off to journey again to the land of the Han people, this time towards the northeast. The tiger hadn't had all the details, but he promised that the information was good. Chen wished that he could eat the tiger anyways, but he had made a promise, and as a steward of the Zhong people he could not turn his back on a vow.

The northeast was a desolate place with heavy snowfall, and Chen had to mutter a thanks to the gods that he happened upon his information when he did. The land of the Zhong people was generally warmer than this region, and it hardly snowed in the winters. Though he had traveled through snow often, it wasn't something he relished doing.

It only took another couple of hours for him to reach the end of the river. That is, the place where the river started. He could see why the

kkachi shin

had chosen it as their holy place of cleansing. It was in a high place, a pond from where water rushed down into the rest of the river. The water bubbled up from the middle of the pond, and though he couldn't tell where the water came from he knew it was supernatural. Usually, any odd or mystical phenomena only indicated that it was a spirit-heavy place.

The plain of land that surrounded the pond was only sparsely covered by some bushes and trees, and after walking around to survey his surroundings Chen decided to make camp in one of the trees. The trees were tall and quite sturdy, with a decent amount of foliage. He knew that he would be unseen, and that even if someone were looking for him he could make himself nearly undetectable.

The round moon in the sky told him that it was very near to being full. When it became full, that was the day where the veil between worlds was at its thinnest. As the dead hunter and a great spirit, he was no stranger to odd things happening. However, on the Spirits' Day,

shinae nal

, it was more than just the regular spiritual activity. No, the heavens, the overworld, and hell would all became one.

Most of the time, Chen enjoyed hunting the demons that would come up to the overworld, tempted by the tantalizing promise of taking advantage of some human souls. But this year, he had something much more important to do. He was glad that he'd heard the drunkard's tale just a few days before the start of

shinae nal

.

If he were just to stay at the mouth of the

Sogang

river, soon enough he would be able to finally find the elusive

kkachi shin

that he'd been faithfully hunting for so long. He cracked his knuckles, a smile once more on his lips. He leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes. Before long, his prey would be upon him.

-

It only took a couple of days.

Zhang Chen had barely been able to sleep over the past couple of days, his hunter's instincts keeping him wide awake in anticipation of their arrival. He passed the time slowly, wandering away during the day to hunt small game for sport. As soon as there was a hint of nightfall, though, he would return back to the spot in his tree, where he sat still, waiting.

He knew that the day had come, because as night fell the color drained from his surroundings. It was much mistier than the past few nights had been, and there was a sinister chill in the air, the kind that numbed you, sunk deep into you. Even more than that, as a spirit, he could feel spirits growing restless as they drifted into the overworld, where most humans would be hiding indoors, huddled together.

Chen thought there was an irony through the whole situation. He had never been fearful on the Spirits' Day. Most of the time, he neglected to actively go hunt - he found it to be a bother, with all the excitement of the spirits who traveled. But, in this case, he supposed he was one of the evil spirits that humans were fearful of, malicious and ready to sacrifice others for his own gain.

Though the humans didn't have anything to fear.

He had fantasized about how they would descend from the heavens, but he hadn't expected it to be so anticlimactic. A line of ten magpies flew down from the sky. Since magpies were not large birds, them being silhouetted against the light of the full moon too meant he couldn't tell what he was looking at first. But, when they were close enough for him to count, with each of their long tails trailing behind them, he knew that they were there for him. They were there to be received by him.

But he sat still as they flew down and settled onto the grass next to the far edge of the pond. In the span of his blinking, the magpies had transformed into human girls. At last, they seemed like humans, save for the wings that fluttered on their backs.

The legends could never describe and the words of mortal could never capture the otherworldly beauty of those gossamer wings that spilled out from their backs. They shone like moonlight itself, rainbows cascading out in the shape of fans, fluttering back and forth as the girls chattered amongst themselves.

Their wings were nothing in comparison to the beauty of their faces, though. Skin so pure, glowing in the soft light, hair that tumbled over their shoulders in waves of ink. Their eyes were large, and those lips... Though the moonlight washed everything out, he could see how they were dark shades of pink, shapely and full.

He felt like time itself had stopped as they began to undress, untying their robe and slipping each side over their delicate shoulders. They unbound their hair and their skirts, and then finally the cloth around their breasts.

Chen remained frozen in his tree. So impossibly close to him were ten girls of perfection, celestial gifts to him, ripe for the taking. He ran his lecherous eyes over their innocent faces, their long and lithe bodies, the way their breasts and hips gave them curves.

One by one, they began to dive into the water, squealing with delight and shock as the cold water hit their systems.

For Chen, he knew this was the time where he had to make his choice. He had been looking at them all, trying to find his favorite. If he got lucky, he would be able to capture more than one, but he knew it was very unlikely. Once they turned back into magpies, he knew that sending an arrow through another one would only kill it, which was nowhere near what he wanted to do. So, he looked for his favorite, and very soon found her.

She was just a bit smaller than the others, with eyes that shone with joy. She had the longest hair, which spread about her and trailed after her in the water like a veil. She laughed easily at what her sisters said, a dimple appearing on her left cheek and her eyes disappearing into little half moons.

Zhang Chen had never known what it was like to be alive. He'd never minded it. No, he'd never wished for it. In fact, he would always have claimed that he preferred to be dead. It seemed so impractical, to carry a living and beating heart within your chest. After all, he thought, the image of the many prey whose lives he'd ended, life made beings so sensibly fragile.

However, according to the legends, the

kkachi shin

were made of the very essence of life themselves. When they smiled, it made the hearts of sinners stop, and when they laughed, flowers sprang up around them. He thought that didn't sound too bad.

He looked down at his large hands and tawny forearms, the scarred skin revealing the sinewy muscles that lay underneath its surface. He couldn't wait to run his hands over the soft skin of his prey, the one that he'd chosen.

Anticipation gripped him as he pulled an arrow from its quiver and with practice hands, pulled the nock onto the string of his bow. He'd done it a million times, and he had far surpassed the need to look at his hands while setting up his shot. But today, the adrenaline thrumming through him had him making sure everything looked proper.

He raised his bow, and with the other hand effortlessly pulled the string back until his thumb was parallel to his cheek.

He only had one shot.

He only had one shot, and then she would be his.

-

Inah had never known pain. As one of the Celestial King's daughters, she had never wanted for anything. Not food, not water, and certainly not for safety. But that all changed in a moment. She felt it before she heard it. In fact, she never heard it all, because the only thing she knew in the moment was pain.

It radiated from her hand, which had been jerked back by the force of something, which as she turned to look at her hand she let out a scream of horror. An arrow had been driven into her palm, and the force of it drove it deep into the ground behind her. Blood welled up around the wood in her hand, and she covered her mouth with her hand as chaos erupted around her.

Her sisters, noticing the arrow in Inah's hand, immediately transformed into magpies and began their ascent back to heaven.

"Sisters!" Inah cried out in the tongue of gods, begging them to stay and to help her. But, it fell on deaf ears, because they had already fled.

She began to yank at the arrow, but she had no strength and could not dis-embed it from where it was in the dirt. She did not notice the dark figure that dropped down from the tree in front of her, and had she noticed it, it would only have made her cry harder.

For Chen, though, he had never seen a more beautiful sight. His prey might have been wounded, but she was still extraordinarily beautiful as she pulled at the arrow with all her might, her wings fluttering behind her in a panic. Her hair was plastered to her body, which as it was lifted up from the water by her wings, had water rolling off her naked skin in fat droplets.

And best of all, she was all alone.

"What is your name, little bird?"

Inah lifted her eyes to see the man who had shot her, still holding his bow. She let out another scream and pulled at the arrow harder with panicked gasps, tears rolling down her face, though this time more from terror than pain.

Before she knew it, he was upon her.

He put his fingers under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. Her heart raced so fast she was scared it would jump out of her chest, and her wings kept threatening to take her up higher into the sky despite her hand being pinned to the ground. She was frozen in place by his eyes, which were hard as they looked into hers. Even more disturbingly, though, was how his eyes looked. There was no white in them. Instead, the whole eye was an inky black.

Then, in an action that felt somehow even more violating, he slid his gaze up and down her body, which she was made acutely aware was completely uncovered.

Those black eyes, the furs wrapped around him, the ghostly bone wood bow and arrow he carried - she knew who this was. Zhang Chen, the dead hunter, great spirit of the Zhong people. She had never met him, but she had heard of him. No, they had not wanted her to hear of him, tales of his death and decay having no place reaching the ears of a delicate princess such as herself. But, Inah had been fascinated that such a spirit could exist. Surely, she had thought to herself in the past, such a spirit could not exist. He sounded like the tales that mortals would tell their children, to incite in them fear that if they were to misbehave, they would be hunted by the great Zhang Chen come Spirits' Day.