All characters depicted in this story are fictional and at least 18 years of age. Note that while this story is not too much of a slow-burner, the real sex doesn't come in until about a third of the way through.
The Blood of the Maneater
I.
The crisp, bleak gales that ascended the caldera of Mount Paektu continually sanded the dried skin on my face and forced my eyes shut. I held my forearm out against the airy barrage--my vision blurred greatly, save for the speckles of blue and green light reflecting from the water situated in the crater of the volcano.
It was called the Lake of Heaven, a rather fitting name for a lake whose water shared the same clarity and azure color as the Heavens themselves. And those specks of light, which may blind those who lay eyes on the mystical reservoir, also dance along the liquid's surface like a mirror of the vast cosmos hanging above our world. A world whose cool temperature and sharp sunlight were befitting of early spring. The jagged cusps of the volcano surrounding the lake on all sides began to show the grassy stubble of a reemerging primordial spirit.
"...at an elevation of over two thousand and seven hundred meters, the Paektu Mountain is one of the natural barriers which separate China and North Korea. Though, the mountain itself and the Lake of Heaven are certainly treasured jewels that effectively serve to unite the two cultures. The Lake of Heaven, in particular, had a critical role in the religion and mythology of the ancient Gojoseon Kingdom and Manchurian clans..."
It's not that I found history and culture uninteresting. I'd just much rather spend my time observing the unique flora and fauna populating this sparse landscape. I turned away briefly from the tour guide to look over my left shoulder. I squinted as I caught sight of a furry animal in the distance. The peculiar creature had fur of an orange-gold and white color, and it leapt across the large, gray boulders adorning the caldera's perimeter. I was entranced.
Lowering my head and looking at the stranger next to me, I muttered, "Hey...do you think that's a fox over there? To our left and off by the stones stacked against the edge?"
I could tell he was wholly apathetic to my potential discovery, but to his credit he went through the great trouble of glancing in my same direction. My whispering must not have been quiet enough, since the tour guide quickly interrupted their spiel to comment on what I said.
"--That's impossible. There are no foxes in these mountain ranges and the Ussuri Dhole has practically gone extinct anywhere outside of Siberia. However, we should all definitely keep an eye out for the legendary Siberian tiger..."
Right. I had always trusted my own senses and better judgement. In my rush to pursue it, my hiking boots braved the jagged texture of the gravely mountain trail and the occasional rock, and pretty soon, I had run for a good ten minutes and been completely separated from the rest of the tour group. My lungs stung as I greedily gasped for the chilled air. My body was slowly mollified and my breathing returned to a normal pace.
Suddenly the air had fallen silent. The mountain wind stalled, seemingly holding its breath, and the clouds in the sky shifted around the sun to veil its radiance. Motionless, I scanned my surroundings for any signs of the enigmatic creature and I promptly failed to discern any sound or trace of it. It disappeared, just like that.
The sun was losing its struggle and shadows crept along the side of my body, wandering and stretching while the air currents around me began to stir. They grew in vigor--coalescing and conjuring a whirly maelstrom that spun and dizzied me. I could hardly see anything through the gusty assailment. Balls of lightning swirled in tandem with the infernal gusts. Crackling and their energy dissipating, the lightning settled once the storm reached the peak of its strength before beginning to fade itself.
The wind loosened its wispy bondage and a point of weakness was revealed amongst the cloudy ranks in the heavens. I was freed alongside the beams of sunlight that escaped through the relenting, hazy barricades. This was undoubtedly some form of magic.
A quaint village was situated across the width of the crater on the mountain's slope. It was not there earlier. Ceramic tiled, upturned roofs sat above the numerous buildings made of limestone. The tiles were gray and cracked, evidently worn from centuries of erosion. A careful observant would note the grainy patches of yellow sparsely populating the building tops. The roofs must have been marvelously glazed and gilded in a shiny, pale yellow at some point in the ancient past.
Most of the houses were now dilapidated. The roofs and walls collapsed into the interiors filled with rubble. I frowned, seeing that one of the houses was in good condition. Worn, yes, but well-kept nonetheless.
"Three hundred li farther east is Qingqiu Mountain, where much jade can be found on its south slope and green cinnabar on its north," a feminine voice said from behind me.
I instinctively jerked to meet eyes with the origin of that bizzare quote. The stranger was a young woman, who sat gracefully on a medium-sized boulder--her right leg crossed over the other and swaying slightly, dangling the cloth shoe resting lightly on top of her foot. She wore a ruqun dress consisting of a long skirt and loose upper garment. The skirt barely hovered over the ground, and it was a pale green reminiscent of the finest jade and gilded with the most detailed gold embellishment. The flapped garment was much paler and it was topped with a white fold-over collar.
Her eyebrows were thick and sightly like the tender peaks of the distant mountain ranges. They sat gently above her eyes, which were a light brown with a reddish hue--like cinnabar--in contrast to the dark mascara and eyeliner which perfectly encapsulated those eyes. Her lips were a faint pink and moved as she smiled at me, cocking her head.
"It's from the Classic of Mountains and Seas," she said.
"Hi...uh......what's your name?," I nervously asked. Shit, I should've replied to her clarification.
"You can call me Chen Sha, dear. You're a rather forward young man, aren't you?"
Seeing that I hadn't responded within a short while, she continued, "What brings you to the Lake of Heaven? What is it you are searching for?"
"Well...I search for truth, I suppose. I search for the essence and wisdom of the world--and the world too," I responded. Crap, that literally made no sense. I need to say something profound right now before I lose her interest.
"...I...I know the net of Heaven is cast wide...but I feel its webbing is too coarse and I find it hard to uncover its threads. Perhaps, here in a place where Heaven and Earth are said to meet, the Will of Heaven and our life-destiny are the clearest?"
Giggling, she said, "I like that reference to the net of Heaven. Few bother to read even Lao Tzu's work these days."
Subsequently, her face became serious and she affirmed, "If you want to see the world for what it is and what is natural and just, then you must eliminate all of your own desires and prejudices."
"I know...I just try--so hard to observe and find it impossible to root out the desire and sin in my heart. Those inner yearnings and worldly obsessions...they take residence in my soul and besmirch it without any intent on relinquishing their control," I said.
Chen Sha stood up abruptly and motioned at me to follow her, "Come, let's rejoin up with your little group."
Her black raven hair fluttering in the mellow breeze, Chen Sha tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and held out her hand. She was a literal goddess in my eyes and I was utterly enchanted. How could I refuse her request and my infatuation? That's when I noticed the small tip of white fur peeking out from underneath her dress. Little did I realize she had spared my life that day.
Chen Sha was a fox-spirit. After the first few decades of its life, the fox-spirit gains its ability to transform into a human woman. And after a century, it perfects its magic channeling and can also become a beautiful woman. They spend their days bewitching and eating any man unfortunate enough to fall within their grasps. Despite all that, the ultimate destiny of a fox-spirit was their ascension to Heaven. I don't know if she is close or simply chose to enter the path towards such a fate after meeting me. Hell, maybe the region had become lonesome and unrecognizable to her after living there for countless lifetimes. But regardless, she decided to follow me to the tour bus and all the way back home and into human civilization.
It wasn't until a decade later when our young daughter would recite the entire passage to me: "Three hundred li farther east is Qingqiu Mountain, where much jade can be found on its south slope and green cinnabar on its north. There is a beast here whose form resembles a fox with nine tails. It makes a sound like a baby and is a man-eater."
II.
Twenty one years later...
The high noon sun shined hotly onto the metallic exterior of the car door, which made a soft thud as my sore arm went to close it. I carried my brown leather briefcase in the other arm and walked across the wet front lawn--slick from the early morning rain shower. My navy-blue oxford shoes had become tarnished from this repeated intrusion, but I could care less and could hardly spare the time to walk along the winding cobblestone pathway leading to our house's front door. I fumbled for the keys in my pocket and checked the time on my watch: it was ten past noon. Admittedly, I felt mischievous in the moment and wanted to surprise Sasha and Leah with a little scare.
It was Wednesday and I typically got home from work around four. Today, though, the afternoon faculty meeting had been rescheduled for Friday and I could leave campus after teaching my morning course on introductory ecology at Rutgers. Sasha was the English name I came up with for Chen Sha around the time we were married. I thought it was clever. And Leah was our 18-year old daughter, who was part human and part fox-spirit unlike our human son Jake.
