[T/N] I apologize for grammar mistakes and incoherencies
Chapter 7: Almost a Good Dream Encounter
Without wasting time to reconsider, I got up and walked towards the slightly open door. Behind me, the atmosphere was cool from the drizzling rain at night, but the light shining through the door seemed to come from another world. I reached out and pulled the door wide open.
The piano music was clear, resonating through the air scented with the freshness of the woods. I turned towards the lounge.
Khun Mas was sitting at the piano. The lounge now was bright with sunlight streaming through the balcony, and an old grandfather clock leaning against the back wall swung, marking the time of his world.
“Do you always follow people like this?” He said first.
I was slightly taken aback, but I pretended not to hear. Who would want to follow a ghost if not necessary? What I was trying to do was help him, and all of us.
“Can we talk for a moment?”
He turned to look at me, his face expressionless, before rising and walking away from me towards the stairs without a care.
I bit my lip, restraining myself. He ignored me and was cold to me as usual, but this time, the situation was different. I knew this was a dream; people don’t really die in dreams. I followed him without hesitation, but as soon as I turned at the landing to go down to the lower entrance hall, I stood in awe.
The scene before me had never appeared in any photograph or book. It was as if I had stepped through time from the present to the past with just a few steps. Everything around was astonishing. I descended into the front hall like I was spellbound. A round wooden table stood prominently in the center of the room, adorned with a large vase of fresh flowers and elegant silver candlesticks, flanked by a pair of ancient blue-patterned porcelain vases beside the pearl-inlaid wooden table along the wall.
I turned my head to the side, looking beyond the hall towards where, in my time, would be a coffee shop. Now, it was a spacious living room filled with luxurious furniture. Large sets of guest chairs stood out on a deep blue carpet, a European-style wooden cabinet housed an antique record player with brass speakers, the wooden floor shone brightly, and the windows were a deep, somber green contrasting with the soft cream walls.
I looked around, amazed. It was as if he had brought me into his memory, every detail vivid: the color of the wood, the patterns on the carpet, the curtains, or even the tiles and books neatly arranged in the cabinets, everything seemed real.
...But this is a dream, isn’t it?
I swallowed, trying not to let my mind wander further and refocused on what I intended to do. I watched the broad back descending the front stairs towards the garden, then quickly ran after him.
I caught up to him as he reached the car parked at the edge of the lawn in front of the house. It was a classic car imported from abroad in its early days, a black four-door convertible. Khun Mas climbed into the driver’s seat. I, startled, quickly dashed to the other side and sat beside him.
“I’m following you because you won’t listen to me.”
He glared at me intensely. I thought he looked terrifying when he stared silently with that expressionless face, but now he was showing emotion, and it was negative. I was startled, almost ready to jump out of the car, but I tried my hardest to suppress that feeling, I couldn’t give up so easily. I gripped the seat tightly with both hands. Seeing my stubbornness, he started the car.
I’ll tell you, this was truly a ghost’s footwork, not just playing with words.
He floored the accelerator, almost to the point where one would use the word ‘stomp’. The composure I had seen vanished, replaced by the temper of a young, moody man. Cars from this era weren’t particularly fast, and this house had extensive grounds, so the chance of an accident was slim, unless driven with such emotion.
He maneuvered the car down a narrow dirt path towards the mountain base. I screamed when I saw he was about to miss a curve and crash into a tree, but he swerved and braked so hard I nearly hit the dashboard.
Khun Mas stepped out of the car while I was still in shock. If this wasn’t a dream, I would have died of a heart attack by now. I took a deep breath, suppressing all the emotions that surged then. I can't give up now. If I didn’t push through, I wouldn’t know when the next opportunity would come. I hurriedly got out of the car and walked around to where he was.
But then I had to stop dead in my tracks, unable to move forward when I saw Khun Mas standing there waiting for me at the back of the car, a long shotgun in his hands, pointing it right at my chest. My heart started racing.
He spoke in a low, deep voice, “The last time we met, I thought you were strange. You surprised me, made me think I might not need to get rid of you, but if you keep following me like this, I might have to reconsider. Don’t follow me again.”
I took a deep breath and raised both my hands to show I wasn’t going to fight, eyeing the gun in his hand with uncertainty. The word ‘get rid of’ made it hard for me to breathe, “So, you’re going to let me go? You won’t keep me trapped in that house anymore, right?”
He clenched his jaw, his face stern, “I never trapped you.”
I blinked, his words adding to my confusion. I didn’t understand. He said he didn’t trap us, but then why were my friends and I still stuck here? Or was there someone or something else controlling us besides him?
It seemed he took my silence as acknowledgement and submission. He stepped back towards the car, placed the gun on the back seat, and moved towards the driver’s door.
I furrowed my brows...What did this mean? He was leaving me here, telling me not to follow. Did he see me as trash?
This was my dream, after all.
A storm of emotions brewed inside me. I called out, “ Khun Mas.”
He turned back, his expression showing slight annoyance as if I still had business with him.
I lowered my raised hands, “You can threaten me all you want, but you can’t escape from me. This might be your world, but the dream is mine.”
With that, I lunged at him. Khun Mas staggered back, surprised, not expecting this. I didn’t expect it from myself either, that I’d have the guts to do something like that.
We both tumbled to the ground. I tried to use the brief moment before he could react to gain an advantage. In the real world, it might have gone differently, but in my dream, I had to believe I was stronger than him.
I was on top of him, trying my hardest to pin him down, but it was difficult, even in a dream. He was taller than me, broader in the shoulders, and his arms were definitely thicker than mine. Finally, I made a decision, threw myself down, and wrapped my arms around him tightly.
Khun Mas looked shocked. He immediately tried to shake me off.
"Khun Mas, listen to me first," I said, my voice shaky from the struggle. "I don't want to hurt you. I just want you to hear what I have to say first."
Khun Mas didn't stop. I tightened my grip around him, clinging like a snake, ready to bite if necessary. My cheek was pressed against his chest, and then I heard something unexpected...
...the sound of his heartbeat.
It stunned me. His heart was beating at an accelerated rhythm; his skin was warm and full of sensation. I accidentally loosened my embrace, and Khun Mas used that moment to flip the situation. He locked me down and threw me to the ground. This time, it was me who was pinned down, my shoulders held firmly.
I looked up at his face looming over mine—an immaculate complexion with sharp, dark eyes, strands of brown hair with golden highlights falling across his forehead. What I had just felt with my senses left me without any desire to resist further. I gazed at him as if under a spell.
"What do you mean when you say that the dream belongs to you?" he pressed my arms against the floor.
I responded, "Do you know about lucid dreaming? It's a dream where you realize you're dreaming. It happens during deep REM sleep. Now, I've brought myself to you in my own dream, and you've allowed me to meet you."
"I didn't allow it." he replied sternly. "You came into my house, disturbed me in various ways, and as far as I remember, I never invited you."
I looked at his face, finding it strange how he was angry yet spoke with an aristocratic elegance—a special blend that left me unsure of how to feel or act. And he was incredibly handsome up close like this, which, though irrelevant to our current situation, made my resolve waver.
"I haven't forgotten how fiercely you chased me away." I should have retorted that if he was so displeased with my intrusion, he should let me and my friends go instead of keeping us here in this torment, but arguing wasn't why I came here in the first place. "Here's the thing, firstly, I came here in peace, as a friend."
His eyebrows drew closer together when he heard me say "friend." Honestly, I found it odd too, but there was no time to get sidetracked by my own strangeness now.
"Alright, you don't have to be my friend, but I assure you I came in peace. I wanted to tell you something about your father, Thomas H. Coleridge."
It worked. He froze immediately upon hearing the name I mentioned, his eyes widening. I started to feel encouraged; this matter was indeed very important to him, just as I thought, “I know your father went to war. If you’re willing to let go of your pride and listen to me for a moment, I’ll give you more details.”
Khun Mas continued to stare at me, “How do you know about my father?”
“Anyone can find out if they research history. I was born a hundred years after you; the events in your life and your father’s life ended long ago for me.”
He was stunned, his eyes full of confusion but also excitement. I let him have some time to think about what I said before I offered, “If you want to hear more, I’ll tell you.”
“I want to hear.” He replied immediately.
I held back from letting out a loud cheer, relieved that we had reached this point. I exhaled in relief, “Then could you move a bit? It’s uncomfortable with you half on top of me like this.”
It seemed like he just realized our awkward position. He quickly moved off and muttered an apology, which made me genuinely surprised.
He apologized to me? Good heavens, tell me I’m not dreaming! Oh, wait...I am dreaming. Oh, now I’m all confused.
When we decided to call a truce for now, we both got up, brushed off the grass and dirt, and looked at each other awkwardly. Khun Mas cleared his throat softly before gesturing towards the car. I followed him to sit in the car, feeling the situation was strange but not daring to laugh.
I told him everything I knew.
When I informed him that his father had sent word back to the family after the war ended, Khun Mas raised his hand. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, as if this news profoundly affected him.
He didn’t say anything, but his emotions were evident on his face and through his demeanor, a mix of joy and hope, probably the hope he had been praying for every day, regardless of whether he could verify the truth in what I was telling him.
When I finished speaking, he fell silent, as if he needed time to absorb what he had just heard. I left him to his thoughts, not wanting to interrupt. He remained silent for so long that it gave me time to study his face.
When Khun Mas wasn’t angry, he didn’t look like a malevolent spirit at all; instead, he looked like an ordinary human with flesh and life. His face was sharp-featured, with a strong jawline typical of someone with Western lineage. His eyes were the most captivating, a rich brown beneath long, thick lashes. They looked cold when he was indifferent, intense and bright when angry, but now they were sweet like burnt sugar as he gazed off into the distance.
At one moment, I felt a pang of regret that he was merely a spirit. If he were alive in my time, we might have had the chance to meet, talk, and get to know each other in the real world. I thought he would be quite an interesting person.
After a while, he said, “What you’ve said is astonishing. Though I’m not yet convinced, I hope it’s true as you claim.”
“It is true.” I assured him, “Your father will be fine. He will be safe and survive this war. Actually, I have proof to show you; there are published records, and photographs. Would you like to see? I’ve kept the information as evidence on my macbook.”
“What kind of book is that?”
His question momentarily baffled me, then I remembered, the term ‘macbook’ must have made him think of an actual notebook. I explained further:
“It’s a device similar to a notebook, but it’s much more versatile. It’s an invention from my time, used for recording information or finding data, and it can connect and communicate with others who have similar devices. It looks like a typewriter but has a screen.”
He made a small, thoughtful sound, “Hmm, that’s the thing you often stare at, isn’t it?”
I raised my eyebrows in surprise, having momentarily forgotten this point. It’s not just in my dreams that I’ve encountered him; sometimes when I’m awake, I’ve seen him too. It seems our worlds overlap...the world of the dead and the living, and at certain moments when the doors of both worlds align, we can sense each other’s presence. He must have seen images of me typing, just as I’ve seen him playing the piano.
That thought made me smile.
“Yes, would you like to see? I’ve recorded a lot of things there, including an article I’m writing to promote this house. Uh...by promoting, I mean highlighting the impressive and good aspects of this house to share with the public. Because after your family moved abroad, there are hardly any caretakers left, so the house was handed over to an organization to manage, to prevent this historic, valuable house from deteriorating to the point of being demolished.”
I patted my chest lightly, “I’m part of this project. When I first saw it in photos as an abandoned house, I got goosebumps. It was...very frightening. But seeing the real house, I knew I had to do my best with this project. This house must be preserved.”
I only realized I had been talking a lot when he crossed his arms and looked at me steadily. His lips moved slightly into a smile, and my heart skipped a beat. It was the first genuine smile he had given me, one without any mocking undertones.
My cheeks felt uncontrollably hot, “Oh...um, sorry. I talked too much, I guess I was pent up, and it must be annoying, I’d be annoyed too if I were you. Before this, I was just causing you trouble all the time, it must be boring to be bothered so often.”
“You’re not boring at all.”
...Oh, my.
If he intended to tease me, he succeeded tremendously. After that smile, now this? I felt awkward, my limbs all stiff, like they were extra parts of my body and I didn’t know where to put them to look natural.
I turned my face away, pretending to look out the window to avoid eye contact, but part of me wanted to know what expression he was making now, whether he was still looking at me or had looked away. I tried to catch a glimpse of him through the faint reflection in the window.
That was my mistake...I shouldn’t have done that.
Staring at reflections in a dream is forbidden; it often turns a normal dream into a nightmare.
I jolted violently when I saw my own face and head starting to distort in the reflection, not just looking odd, but melting away. In panic, I shifted back, bumping into Khun Mas’s shoulder.
The bizarre melting sensation made me snap my head towards him.
My brain short-circuited like it had been zapped; fear and shock enveloped me as his shoulder caved in from my touch. My arm twisted unnaturally. It wasn’t just him and me that were abnormal, because when I looked outside the car, everything was changing as if this world was made from clay left in the sun, and now it was melting back into a lump of mud running to the car door.
I stared at my fingers turning into mush and dropping onto my lap.
“AHH!!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
I jolted awake from the dream, sitting up abruptly on the bed in my room, sweat drenching me. Outside the window, there was a soft light along the horizon, indicating that dawn was approaching. Before I could do much more:
“Phii Khen! Hurry downstairs!” He said in a rushed, trembling voice before running towards the stairs.
Even though I still felt disoriented from the nightmare, I tried to gather my wits and followed him running.
“What happened?” I asked in a hoarse, shaky voice, my throat dry as if I had been screaming in real life, even though it was just a dream.
“Phii Namwa is crying on the lawn.”
“What?”
“I don’t know exactly what happened, but suddenly I heard Phii Namwa scream, and then Phii Thaen ran downstairs after her.”
Both of us hurried downstairs, where we saw Phii Thaen holding Phii Namwa on the lawn in front of the house, with Phii Teo standing nearby looking quite distressed. I joined them, and Phii Namwa appeared very shaken, trembling all over and repeating, “I heard...I really heard.”
It took a while for Phii Thaen to calm Phii Namwa down. By now, the sky was getting lighter. We moved to sit on the chairs at the edge of the lawn.
Phii Namwa recounted what happened with a shaky voice, every sentence tinged with fear, pausing intermittently. In summary, she woke up before Phii Thaen and Phii Teo at dawn and was playing on her phone at the dressing table when she heard a voice calling her name. She listened intently, but the voice stopped, so she continued playing, thinking she might have imagined it.
But then, a few minutes later, she heard a whisper right next to her ear, clearly calling her name. Startled, Phii Namwa dropped her phone, and when she picked it up, she found herself standing alone in the dark. In sheer terror, she screamed and ran blindly, only coming to her senses when Phii Thaen embraced her on the lawn.
Phii Thaen stroked Phii Namwa’s head, comforting her with a gentle voice, “It must have been a nightmare, Namwa.”
Phii Namwa leaned weakly against Phii Thaen’s shoulder, tears welling up again. “I really heard it, Thaen. The voice calling my name, it wasn’t just a dream.”
Phii Thaen pressed his lips together tightly. It was clear he was feeling very frustrated.
“ Thaen...I am scared.” Phii Namwa closed her eyes, “I don’t want to be here anymore.”
Phii Namwa looked very exhausted, so Phii Thaen decided to take her upstairs to rest in her room. The rest of us followed quietly. Phii Teo joined me and Bing in our room, leaving Phii Thaen alone with Phii Namwa.
That day, everyone was enveloped in gloom, the atmosphere heavy as if something was pressing down on us. Eventually, Phii Teo suggested that Bing and I go down to sit on the lower porch where they planned to make a cafe.
Phii Teo sighed heavily. He massaged his temples, “I think I’ll go crazy before I manage to leave here.”
Bing glanced up towards the upper floor, “I’m really not at ease with Phii Namwa hearing that kind of call. It doesn’t seem like a good sign.”
“What do you mean?” Phii Teo asked.
“I don’t really know, Phii.” Bing rubbed his arm, “If you heard someone calling your name, what would you do? At first, you might be scared, but if you kept hearing it, would you eventually follow it?”
We looked at each other. No one wanted to answer that question.
After a while, Phii Teo started to speculate, “Let’s think about it. From Khen who started seeing scary things, to Namwa hearing strange voices, who’s next? Me or you, Bing, or maybe Thaen?”
Bing quickly said, “I’d happily let you go first. I’d rather be the last one or not experience anything at all.”
“Damn...what about you then?” Phii Teo raised his leg as if to kick.
Bing moved away, “Well, you asked for a reason!”
They continued to bicker. I let out a heavy sigh, feeling like my head was about to explode, and finally stood up, “Does anyone want anything? I’m going to grab some drinks from the fridge.”
“Get me a bottle of green tea.” Phii Teo said.
I nodded. That dream had left me feeling terrible, unsettled in a way I couldn’t describe, and then with what happened to Phii Namwa, it was even worse. Tonight, I probably wouldn’t need sleeping pills; I should be able to fall asleep on my own soon enough.
I went to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water for myself from the fridge, and didn’t forget to take a bottle of green tea for Phii Teo. While walking down the hallway to return to the balcony where Phii Teo and Bing were sitting, I heard footsteps following me.
I stopped walking and turned around to look.
My eyes widened in shock as the scene before me changed abruptly. Suddenly, I was standing alone in an old, dilapidated house. It was so ancient that parts of the walls were missing, the roof had holes showing the rotten, decayed wooden framework, and moonlight filtered through, casting shadows all around.
My hands turned cold, fear crept up my neck. This house was terrifying like a nightmare, with windows hanging off their hinges, old curtains swaying gently in the breeze, the air feeling oppressive and menacing.
I trembled...What was this?
Then, I felt movement from the corner of my eye. Turning to look, I saw it was coming from a room with a slightly ajar door. My lips trembled; I was too scared even to scream.
The door slowly opened, and something fell from the ceiling, looking like a heavy bundle of old cloth. When it hit the floor, a burst of light particles scattered, like dozens of fireflies flying. I watched as they moved together, forming a shape. When the shape became clear, I realized they weren’t fireflies at all.
...They were something larger, some other kind of insect.
It flapped its wings above the cloth for just a few seconds before darting towards my eyes.
Chapter 8: In the Realm of Thought
Startled, I fell backward, expecting my head to hit the ground hard, but instead, I found myself landing on a pile of dry leaves that cushioned my fall. The dry leaves crumbled into small pieces, flying into the air. Now, I was lying under a large tree with its branches spreading wide, the leaves rustling in the gentle sunlight, some falling onto my face and body. The scene wasn’t scary but rather evoked a sense of melancholy.
Not long after, a light drizzle began. I saw something emerging from the damp bark, crawling along the branches before dropping to the ground and burrowing beneath. The rain ceased, and the ground dried again.
In the solitude and silence, my eyes, although fixed ahead, did not see the trees and the sky. Instead, I perceived something else through a sense not belonging to my eyes, as if it was etched into my mind like a memory, but a memory I had never owned.
The beautiful, radiant face of a woman sitting gracefully in front of a vanity, staring not at her own reflection in the mirror but at someone else. She wore a blouse with puffy sleeves and had a shawl draped over it. I remembered her as the woman who had appeared to me in the lower room of the Western-style House. At that moment, another young woman was helping her brush her hair. She smiled sweetly, her cheeks a faint pink with a touch of shyness.
I only just noticed that she wasn’t looking at herself in the mirror; she was gazing at someone else. Not the young woman assisting her, but a young man who was secretly watching her through the slightly ajar door. He was robust, tall and muscular, his eyes full of admiration for her.
But then, the phrase ‘sacrificial pawn,’ spoken by Bing, intruded into my thoughts, jolting me back to reality.
I snapped back to my senses, my heart racing when I realized I wasn’t lying on a pile of dry leaves under the shade of a large tree, but my body was sinking into the earth. The panic surged in, shattering the dreamy state.
Now, my entire body was buried except for my face, which barely protruded above the soil. The only sounds in my ears were those of shifting grains of dirt and the movement of insects underground, resonating as if they were walking through my brain.
I needed to escape now!
I mustered all my strength to pull myself up, but I was pulled back down, roots emerging from the ground to entwine around my body, dragging me deeper into the earth again!
I struggled to break free from the tightening grip, seemingly intent on keeping me there. The more I struggled, the deeper I sank. The sound of insects grew louder, it was the sound of cicadas, piercing into my eardrums. I fought with all my might, images flashing rapidly through my mind from one scene to another, too fast to comprehend: Thai peacock feathers beside a small comb, brass nail guards, a steaming ceramic cup, the muscular man, a sweet kiss on the lips, an ankle bracelet, and the giant tree with countless insects.
No!
I clawed at the earth, digging my fingers into the soil, trying to pull myself out. Emotions flooded into me through the particles of dirt: suffocation, a rising panic in my throat, pain, longing, disappointment, anger, and an incomparable sorrow, all compressing inside me until it felt like my body might burst.
“Help!” I screamed, soil filling my mouth.
In that moment between life and death, a voice called out:
“Khen, come out!”
That was Khun Mas’s voice.
I gasped in terror, in the hazy dreamscape. I saw Khun Mas standing a few steps away, looking at me with a stern expression, one hand holding a long-handled axe. He approached with determination in his eyes. My heart pounded as I saw him grip the axe with both hands, raising it high and then swinging it down.
Thud!
There was a loud sound above me, and the bindings holding me loosened. I sat up, vomiting a dark brown liquid that seeped into the wooden floor like an illusion, leaving only a burning sensation in my chest and throat.
Now, I lay disoriented at the threshold of the room at the end of the right wing of the house’s lower floor, with Khun Mas standing in the doorway. Inside the dark room, I could just make out the axe embedded in a post. I turned to look at Khun Mas, my voice trembling with fear, “You...helped...”
“Don’t speak yet.” He said.
Khun Mas looked left and right before deciding to approach me. He pulled me up, draping my arm over his shoulder to help me walk with him. He led me into a room adjacent to the living room, closed the door, and sat me down on a long chair.
“Stay here, don’t go outside.” He instructed.
I nodded. Khun Mas left, closing the door behind him. I sat there, hugging myself, my hands still shaking from the recent event.
Not long after, Khun Mas returned with a silver tray holding a jug of water and a small cloth. His expression seemed troubled. He placed the tray on the table, poured water from the jug onto the cloth, and handed it to me.
I stared at him without moving, my mind still scattered. Khun Mas spoke softly, “Clean your face first.”
“Uh...thank you.” I said, reaching out to take the towel from him.
The cool dampness and the faint scent of the bath water made me feel better. As I wiped my face and neck, I glanced at him, and my mind began to calm down. Khun Mas stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the work desk, watching me quietly, his eyes showing neither kindness nor malice.
This room appeared to be a study and reading room, decorated in dark tones with mostly European-style furniture. Some pieces, however, were made from Northern Thai wood.
A large wooden desk was positioned near the window with a brown leather-upholstered chair.
One of the walls had a large bookshelf packed with books in foreign languages. The long sofa I was sitting on was a daybed for lounging, with high backrests and padded armrests that curved at the ends. Two soft cushions were stacked on it.
This place must have been used for comfortable reading. The room had many curious items: a typewriter, a globe, magnifying glasses, an inkwell, and even a telescope.
My gaze settled on Khun Mas, who still leaned against the desk among these ancient artifacts. He looked more like a figure from a painting than someone real.
“Thank you for helping me.” I finally said.
He didn’t respond, merely making a slight sound in his throat as acknowledgement.
I squeezed my hands together as I asked hesitantly, “Did you...kill her then?”
His face furrowed, “Who?”
“That woman, the one in the room you helped me escape from.”
“She’s a ghost, ghosts are already dead people. I can’t kill her again.”
My eyes widened, “But then why earlier...”
My words trailed off in confusion, my mind racing even though it wasn’t ready. Several questions vied for attention in my head. I wondered why Khun Mas called her a ghost so matter-of-factly, without any discomfort about being a ghost himself, or if he was just stating a fact without feeling, or perhaps she had become a ghost before him.
“I only managed to get rid of her temporarily.” He continued.
I was stunned for a moment before speaking:
“So you mean...you’re just chasing away another ghost?” Even though you’re a ghost yourself. I’m completely confused now. “How do you do that? Do you use spells or something, or are your weapons blessed, like the gun and that axe?”
This is like a new dimension of ghostbusting or something, my brain nearly exploded trying to understand. A ghost using enchanted items to deal with another ghost, and doesn’t that magic affect him too? Or maybe it’s because he’s a Western ghost and she’s a Thai ghost, so they’re afraid of different things...This is just madness!
Khun Mas said, “I am not one who possesses magic or uses objects as you describe. What she fears is merely what she believes can harm her.”
Is that so?
I was even more bewildered, “So if you drew some runes or splashed plain water on her, pretending it’s holy water, she’d be scared because she believes in that kind of thing? How can someone delude themselves like that!”
He looked at me with sharp eyes, “How well do you think you know ghosts...Khen?”
I didn’t know why his deep voice and the strange look in his eyes made me feel a mix of heat and chills. I rubbed my arm, not responding.
Khun Mas turned towards the desk. He placed a strip of leather, about half the length of a hand, between the pages of an open book and closed it before saying, “Ghosts are emotions.”
His explanation didn’t clarify much, as vague as he himself was, “Who is that woman, and why does she want to harm me?”
The feeling of panic and suffocation was still vivid; she had nearly killed me just now. I wouldn’t have made it here if Khun Mas hadn’t helped me out.
“Why does she pick on anyone who comes here? She doesn’t spare anyone.”
“...”
“Is she related to you?”
“She is no relative of mine.” He said curtly, as if the question irritated him, “Forget about her. Don’t think about her anymore if you don’t want to...”
His words abruptly stopped, as if he realized he had said too much.
But I wouldn’t let it slide; the more he held back, the more curious I became, “Don’t want what?”
Khun Mas looked away, “I don’t want you to ask about her again.”
His abrupt dismissal forced me to shut my mouth, even though I was brimming with questions. His expression made me hesitate to push further. I didn’t want to spoil the atmosphere. After all, he had just helped me escape. I shouldn’t irritate or anger him, right? We had only just started to get along.
I looked around the room and asked, “Is this your study?”
“It was my father’s study.”
“Thomas Coleridge.” I murmured softly. Thomas had gone off to war, but many of his belongings were still here. Everything in this room seemed fascinating. I asked, “May I have a look around?”
Khun Mas hesitated for a moment before giving a slight nod of permission. I stood up and walked towards the bookshelf, but my eyes caught sight of an old brass telescope on the desk first. I moved closer to examine it with interest; its long, brass body was quite an unusual sight.
Khun Mas leaned back in the desk chair, his elbows on the armrests, hands loosely clasped under his chin, watching me intently. He seemed as curious about me as I was about him. His gaze made me feel self-conscious, so I turned my attention to the neatly arranged books on the wall.
Then, I noticed one book that reminded me of something Khun Mas had once said when we didn’t get along so well. I smiled before turning towards him.
“A coward one dies a thousand deaths, the valiant one but one death.” I touched the spine of the book. “That’s a quote from Julius Caesar, not you. I know it’s from Shakespeare’s play.”
He raised an eyebrow, looking mildly surprised and impressed, “Is that all you know?”
Although his tone was flat, his words carried a challenging, almost mocking undertone typical of the gentry, which was quite irritating. I was almost ready to plant my feet and argue with him.
But no, I could hit back harder. Let me tell you something, we live in an era of content, where quotes and wise words from both historical and contemporary figures are referenced all the time, in almost every situation. And working in the creative industry, there’s no way these things wouldn’t catch my eye. If he thinks he can challenge me on this, well, he’s picked the wrong person, Khun Mas.
Shakespeare was both a poet and a playwright; his works are numerous, but even if you haven’t read all his writings, it doesn’t mean you haven’t heard various lines from his works. I picked out one of my favorite lines, “Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.”
His eyes lit up for a moment, “Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.”
He countered with a quote from “Measure for Measure.” which made me step up my game in this verbal exchange.
“Nothing is either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” I raised my finger, “That’s from Hamlet, but I’ll throw in another romantic one from Romeo and Juliet for a change of atmosphere, ‘A rose by any other name would smell as sweet’.”
Khun Mas fell silent for a moment. He looked at my face with a gaze that...well, almost hid his surprise, then he said, “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate.”
I nearly swooned, if I hadn’t remembered we were in a playful game of Shakespearean wit. I took a line from Hamlet and reinterpreted it to fit his words, “To be or not to be, that is the question.”
Khun Mas finally smiled. He unclasped his hands and rested them on the armrest, “It’s obvious you are well-read.”
“And it’s obvious you’re in love with William Shakespeare.” I teased.
“In love?”
“I mean you greatly admire and appreciate him.”
He shook his head in disagreement, “That word is inappropriate. I don’t love him; I merely appreciate the philosophy embedded in his works. ‘In love’ sounds like an infatuation without reason.”
“You can’t say that. I often lose my mind when I see you, and I’m not in love with you.”
There was an unexpected dead air between us. He looked at me as I looked back at him, not knowing what else to say, suddenly realizing that I had just argued back in a playful, modern way.
I composed myself and cleared my throat softly, “In any case, I meant it in a positive way. You can’t get mad at me for that. It’s an expression of deep admiration. That’s what I intended to convey. If I was wrong, I apologize.”
Khun Mas shook his head slightly, as if not holding any grudge. He tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest, now more relaxed. I, too, felt less tense than before, as if we were just two regular friends chatting, not the strange situation that was actually unfolding.
I moved closer to the window, parted the curtain slightly, and looked outside. The house was U-shaped; from the front, there was a central hall with rooms extending on both sides, which then turned towards the back at the end of the walkway. Where I stood now was the study, near the guest room, with windows facing the back of the house.
I peered out with interest. The end of this house connected to the kitchen, where people moved about busily, each engaged in their tasks, as if carrying on with their daily lives.
I leaned closer to the window for a better view, knowing everything around me was just a memory of Khun Mas’s past, into which he had somehow inserted me. But it was still fascinating enough to keep my excitement in check.
Khun Mas stood up and came to stand beside me, “Be careful. I don’t want anyone to see you.”
I glanced up at him, but only caught a glimpse of his profile before my eyes dropped to his chest level. He was so close, smelling fresh like greenery with a faint floral scent, maybe from cologne or the bath water lingering on his clothes. Khun Mas was tall, broad-shouldered, making me feel small beside him, even though I wasn’t actually that small.
Khun Mas didn’t seem to notice I was quietly assessing his physique. He looked towards the kitchen, “It’s almost dinner time, the kitchen will get a bit chaotic. Aunt Uan doesn’t tolerate any shortcomings, from curries to stir-fries, everything’s there. She probably fears we might forget our Thai roots.”
“Is it a Thai kitchen? I thought it was a Western one.” I asked, indeed hearing the sound of pestle crushing herbs in the background.
“It’s both.” He replied, “Originally, the Thai and Western kitchens were separate, but when my father was away, our staff reduced, and Aunt combined them. We have Western meals in the afternoon with tea and pastries, but dinner is always a Thai spread. The younger ones have adapted to this blend, mixing both Thai and Western traditions.”
“Like when I asked you to play traditional Thai music on the piano?”
He raised an eyebrow slightly before nodding, “Hmm.”
I bit my lip, weighing the words I was about to say, but in the end, desire triumphed over all reason, “Can I listen to you play the piano next time?”
“Why not this time?”
I was taken aback by his response. My jaw dropped, staring at him in disbelief.
Khun Mas seemed not to notice my surprise. He continued slowly, “Stay then. Can you? Hide in my room, wait until it gets dark, then come out. I’ll play ‘Lao Damnern Gaew’ for you, as you’ve asked.”
If earlier I was speechless, now my jaw must have dropped to my lap.
But then, Khun Mas couldn’t hold back his amusement. He raised a hand, touched his finger to the tip of his nose, and turned away, “Do you think I’m serious, Khen?”
He was suppressing a smile.
My eyes widened, my heart swinging like a pendulum, almost ready to let out a goofy sound. He shouldn’t do that; it’s dangerous, it messes with his conversational partner’s sanity!
The sound of raindrops began to patter down, the women workers squealed and hurriedly gathered their drying items, drawing our attention in that direction. I touched my chest and let out a silent sigh of relief. It’s not that I was uncomfortable or disliked this situation, it’s just that...the feeling of liking it was what was causing me turmoil. I wasn’t sure if I should let this continue.
The kitchen staff quickly collected their things as the rain grew heavier. I saw one woman following the others under the eaves to shelter from the rain. She held her stomach as she ascended the stairs.
Khun Mas said, “That’s Mae Nuan, she’s newly pregnant with her first child, but her husband died of jungle fever. It’s quite pitiable. My mother took her in to help because they were acquainted before, and her cooking skills are hard to come by.”
I smiled to myself, ‘husband’ and ‘wife,’ it didn’t sound offensive at all, it’s people from our time who later decided these terms were not polite.
“Why are you smiling?” Khun Mas asked, seeing my smile.
“Nothing, I just smiled for no reason, thinking random thoughts, having random wonders.”
Khun Mas leaned against the window frame and looked at me, “You wonder if stars are just fire, wonder if the sun moves, wonder if truth is merely a lie, but never wonder if I love.”
I was stunned, my mouth agape, as heat rushed to my face, before realizing that was one of Shakespeare’s lines.
Too much! He countered my comment about him being a Shakespeare enthusiast by throwing such a quote at me. Was that fair? That’s cheating!
“I give up.” I raised both hands, “Let’s stop here. I’m out of my depth competing with you.”
I couldn’t quite figure out how it turned into this awkward moment, probably because he was too close. As we grew more familiar, he didn’t seem as intimidating as before; he was quite charming, actually. I moved towards the bookshelf to escape the flutter in my chest.
And then I noticed a wind-up tin rabbit on a bicycle on the shelf. I recognized it immediately, “That’s yours.”
Khun Mas had first appeared to me as a child around 6-7 years old, covered in scars. At that time, I was terrified by his haunting, but even now, those scars remain a mystery to me. Was he abused? By whom? Who would dare to harm the son of the house owner? My heart sank at the thought that the only person who might have disciplined him could be his own father...No, please don’t let it be that.
I wanted to ask him, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I bit my lip and chose my words carefully, “Was your childhood happy?”
“Not entirely smooth; many things happened. My mother was frail, and she passed away when I was still young.”
“How old were you then?”
“Eight.” He answered briefly.
...So young, old enough to understand but too young to accept such a loss.
“Fortunately, I still had my father, and Aunt, who kindly took care of me. Aunt Tubtim, a cousin of my mother, agreed to become my father’s second wife out of pity for her nephew who lost his mother at a young age.”
The way he spoke of his father made me dismiss the thought that his father might have harmed him; his face and eyes were full of respect and love. And the stepmother, who he just mentioned was his biological aunt, also seemed to love and care for him. Then who could have hurt that little child so?
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Khun Mas asked, noticing me staring at him.
“Like how?”
“Very tenderly.”
How should I explain it to him? Honestly, I thought he was very cute when he was a child, with skin as white as milk and adorable pink cheeks. The thought that he might have been beaten, hurt, or left lonely and sad breaks my heart.
He’s still waiting for an answer, while I probably have none to give him.
But then, Khun Mas’s demeanor changed. He tilted his head, stared at me intently, his eyes fixed on my face. His eyebrows furrowed as if he was deep in thought.
Just as quickly, his eyebrows relaxed, his eyes widened slightly. Khun Mas reached out as if to touch my face. My heart pounded, his fingertips were just about to touch my cheek. I instinctively looked down and tilted away, but he stopped himself just in time.
“Is it you, Khen, are you the one who...”
His words seemed like a mutter to himself, which made me look up again, surprised at his expression—it was a mix of surprise, excitement, and a hint of delight, like solving a puzzle.
“Duangduan. What do you want from me?”
His voice was soft and deep, making my heart soften too. I mumbled in response, “Nothing, really.”
Khun Mas gave a slight smile, his face brightened and appeared more open than I had ever seen. I didn’t quite understand what was happening, and he didn’t seem inclined to explain further, but the atmosphere enveloping us now was too good for me to argue or even ask questions.
We looked at each other amidst the soft patter of rain, without speaking. If his eyes were a deep pool, I was letting myself sink and drown in it.
Thud!
A heavy blow to my shoulder made me stagger, my vision blurred. I lost my balance and fell onto the wooden floor, the soda can slipping from my grasp and rolling away. I looked around dazed at the sound of quick footsteps running past, and when I turned to look, I saw it was Phii Namwa running out of the hall crying loudly towards the door, leaving me sprawled on the floor of the lower hall of the house.
“Namwa!” Phii Thaen’s shout came from the stairs. He ran quickly past me towards the front porch, chasing after Phii Namwa who was fleeing like someone out of their mind.
Barely had time to think, the sudden abnormality made me get up, take a deep breath, and try to regain my composure before following the two out to the porch.
As I stepped down the front stairs, Bing and Phii Teo were already catching up to Mas, running towards us, asking, “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” I replied, “I saw Phii Thaen chasing Phii Namwa. They’ve now run towards the back of the house.”
The three of us hurried in that direction. Phii Namwa was sprinting far out into the wide field behind, with Phii Thaen following and calling out to her. The grass at the end of the rainy season was tall, almost waist-high, stretching out to the mountains. I could see Phii Thaen’s back in the distance but couldn’t see or hear Phii Namwa anymore.
“What in the world is happening?” Phii Teo exclaimed.
I turned to him and said, “I was standing in the hallway, about to bring water to you, when suddenly Phii Namwa came running down from upstairs, crying inconsolably, making no sense, then she ran outside, and Phii Thaen chased after her.”
“Namwa has lost it again.” Phii Teo said, looking towards where Phii Thaen was. He was still running forward, his calls for Phii Namwa growing fainter, “Stuck in this haunted house. Who wouldn’t go mad?”
“What do we do now?” I asked.
“Follow Thaen.” Phii Teo answered.
We all plunged into the field together, pushing through the grass until we caught up with Phii Thaen. He was standing alone, looking left and right as if unsure which way to go. I approached and grabbed his arm; Phii Thaen was pale, his hand trembling.
“Namwa has disappeared.” His voice trembled, “She suddenly started crying out that she had to go.”
The rest of us exchanged looks; Phii Teo spoke up, “She’s not gone anywhere, probably just sat down somewhere crying out of fright. Let’s split up and find her before it starts raining.”
I looked up; the sky was now overcast with thick, gray clouds forming. We decided to split up and search in different directions to find Phii Namwa as quickly as possible.
I headed in one direction, calling out for Phii Namwa while the others did the same. The atmosphere around us darkened rapidly, the sun hidden behind clouds, the wind picking up, swaying the grass in waves. I kept moving forward, calling out for Phii Namwa incessantly.
But then I had to stop abruptly when I saw a large tree in the distance, standing out prominently against the wind. The sound of its branches and leaves rustling was clear in my ears, as if I was standing under its shade.
It was the tree from my dream.
My instincts screamed danger. I stepped back with my heart pounding, then turned and ran away. I ran as fast as I could, barely breathing until I was back at the house.
I walked from the lawn to the front porch, but instead of going inside, I slumped down onto the steps under the eaves adorned with intricate wooden carvings. I tried to gather my thoughts to figure out what I had encountered, but it was hard to do so.
Soon, it started raining. Phii Teo and Bing ran back, their clothes soaked. They approached where I was still sitting.
“Has Thaen and Namwa returned?” Phii Teo shouted.
I shook my head. Phii Teo cursed. Both of them sat down on the steps like me, waiting to see when Phii Thaen and Phii Namwa would show up.
But as the rain subsided and the sky darkened, there was still no sign of them.
“It’s evening already, why haven’t Phii Thaen and Phii Namwa come back?” Bing said, almost in tears.
“They might have got caught in the rain.” Phii Teo replied.
“Caught in the rain?” Bing looked skeptical. “Should we go out and look for them again?”
“No.” Phii Teo and I said in unison. Going out into the field at night while it’s still raining is not a good idea.
“With such darkness, if someone stumbles or gets bitten, it would only get worse.” Phii Teo explained. “Let’s wait here. If Thaen finds Namwa, they’ll have to come back here anyway. It’s dark now; let’s go inside.”
I nodded in agreement. The three of us went inside and turned on the lights, the yellow glow that once felt warm and romantic now seemed gloomy and desolate. We went upstairs to the bedrooms; Bing and Phii Teo changed out of their wet clothes. I was so exhausted that I collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep easily.
When I opened my eyes again in the morning, everything was still the same. There wasn’t even a shadow of Phii Thaen or Phii Namwa.
The three of us went out to confer on the front lawn, everyone looking tense. Bing vented out, “I’m going nuts, bro, where are Phii Thaen and Phii Namwa? Why haven’t they come back yet!”
“I’ll go look for them again.” said Phii Teo.
“I’ll go too.” I said, “ Bing, stay here in case Phii Thaen and Phii Namwa return.”
We agreed. I walked with Phii Teo towards the back of the house. The surroundings were now bright, the sky clear without clouds, a gentle breeze blowing, but in our hearts, there was nothing but gloom and heaviness. No part of us felt at ease. I walked alongside Phii Teo, trying to keep my fear of that big tree at bay.
Hours passed, and the sun was blazing. Phii Teo and I were still trudging through the field, sweat trickling down our faces and necks, our backs soaked. We called out for a long time until we couldn’t go on. Eventually, we decided to head back to the house.
Bing was waiting on the front porch. He rushed over to us with hope, “Did you find them?”
I shook my head. Phii Teo, exhausted, slumped onto the stairs.
“I don’t know where else to look. I’ve called out until my throat’s raw. If Thaen heard, he should’ve responded.” He said, clutching his head in frustration.
Bing stood there, speechless. I had nothing more to say either, just sat down beside Phii Teo, who had his face buried in his arms. We were at a dead end, with no way to fight against whatever was controlling and playing with us.
Then Bing spoke up, “There’s still one place we should check out, Phii.”
Phii Teo raised his head. I asked, “Where?”
Bing didn’t respond with words. He clenched his lips tightly and looked over our shoulders towards the back. Phii Teo and I turned to look, then swallowed hard...He meant this house.
Bing said, “I think we should search every room. I mean ‘every room’, seriously.”
Phii Teo and I exchanged looks; Bing’s suggestion seemed reasonable.
Once we made up our minds, we immediately started the search. We began from the top floor of the house because it was closest to our bedrooms, checking every room on our side, including the restricted area that was cordoned off, no longer holding back because our friends’ lives were more important. Bing got the shivers when we looked into a small room with iron hooks bolted to the wooden floor, but I explained that these were for securing important items in barrels. He seemed relieved.
After searching the upper floor, we moved downstairs. We opened every room, including the bathrooms and storage rooms where doors stuck so bad we had to use a crowbar. We eventually stood in front of the room at the rightmost corner of the house, just before the hallway turned to the back. This was the last room we planned to check, for reasons we all knew.
The three of us stared at the door; searching room by room had turned us from scared to somewhat reckless, like daring burglars. Phii Teo held the crowbar, while I had a wrench and Bing had a hammer.
Phii Teo gritted his teeth, “I’m scared of this room like hell, but now I just want to see Thaen and Namwa in there. If any weird shit comes out, I’ll smash it to pieces.”
“Let’s do this.” I said.
We stepped forward together, reached out, yanked the key off, and tossed it to the floor before pulling the door open.
The room was empty, all windows tightly shut, with only a few streaks of the late afternoon sun squeezing through the gaps in the shrinking wooden panels.
I stood there, stunned, despair creeping in.
“Fuck! What do you want with us!” Phii Teo screamed out. He charged into the room and started smashing the walls and windows with the crowbar.
Bing and I rushed to stop him. I wrestled with Phii Teo to get the crowbar out of his hands while shouting, “Phii Teo, stop! Don’t do this!”
We managed to drag Phii Teo out, but no one blamed him for his outburst. I understood he was deeply upset and disappointed. Bing and I felt the same. We wanted Phii Thaen and Phii Namwa to be safe, because at this point, we still had no idea what had happened to them.
We returned to the bedroom in defeat, our spirits utterly crushed. Bing sat with his head down in silence, Phii Teo lay on his side, not saying a word, and finally, I couldn’t bear it any longer. Whether it was reality or an illusion, they needed to know what I had encountered.
“Bing, Phii Teo. I have something to tell you.”
I told them almost everything I knew about the people and this house, recounting from the time I dreamt of Khun Mas and met him several times afterward, both intentionally and unintentionally; his memories, our conversations, being haunted by the female ghost in that room, seeing strange visions, and inexplicable events.
“Phii Khen, did you go looking for him on purpose, this Khun Mas?” Bing asked as soon as I finished my story.
“Umm.” I replied, compared to the female ghost, Khun Mas was more willing to converse, “He did haunt me before, but after I told him about his father, Thomas, he didn’t do that anymore. In fact, he even helped me against the female ghost in that room.”
“Do you trust him?” Bing asked.
“Well, he helped me. If he wanted to harm me, why would he help?”
Bing crossed his arms, his eyes clearly showing discomfort, “If that’s truly the case, it’s good, but if it were me, I wouldn’t dare to think like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure if he’s really good or just pretending to be good to you.”
I was taken aback, but Bing continued without waiting for me to ponder or object.
“Have you ever considered that maybe you’re being played? Actually, both he and that woman are spirits who won’t leave, like some haunted houses where people killed each other. And then one day, people hear arguments or gunshots in that house again and again. What you’ve seen might just be a part of the truth. His father’s story might not be what’s keeping his spirit here, but rather that woman. How do you know that the axe and the gun weren’t the weapons he used to kill her? They might have killed each other a hundred years ago, and now they’re trying to take us with them to the other side!”
What Bing said left me speechless. His words were logical, yet they felt completely unreasonable to me; there was something conflicting in my heart that I couldn’t put into words.
I raised my hand to massage my temples, shaking my head, “So, what do you expect me to do?”
“Don’t mess with him again. I don’t know how things are with Phii Thaen and Phii Namwa now, but Phii Khen, don’t put yourself at risk again.”
But then, Phii Teo, who had been listening quietly all along, spoke up, “I think it’s not him.”
Me and Bing turned to look at him in unison.
Phii Teo looked at the two of us, “Isn’t it the ghost of the homeowner’s son who could give us answers? He might even be the one who hid Namwa and Thaen.”
Bing shouted in a hoarse voice, “What do you want Phii Khen to do?”
“Go and sort it out with him directly.” Phii Teo stood up and stepped towards me, “Go and bring back Namwa and Thaen.”
“How do we follow?” I asked.
“Sleeping pills worked before, right?” Phii Teo placed his hand on my shoulder, “Do it the same way, but this time, take me with you.”