It was a cool, mid-fall morning when the children of Yungsool found Jin Taek Soong kneeling before a shrine, deep in prayer. The elder Yang Tong Su who usually performed the rituals that ensured the village’s safety was sick again. Jin was the only other person who knew the old ways. That was strange for he was not an old man, or at least he didn’t appear to be. He looked to be about thirty-five. He was a tall man; very tall for a Korean and he had a handsome, skinny, dark looking face. Indeed, it did sometimes look like he would have made a better gangster than shaman, which was what he officially gave as his profession.

            Yungsool was the only place in North Korea, possibly, where one could be a shaman still. Shamanism represented a part of the past that didn’t serve the present and thus, the Communist government frowned on its practice. And when the North Korean government frowns on something, executions and re-education camps are not far away.

            But Yungsool was buried deep within the mountains. As far as the people of the village felt, outsiders had no jurisdiction over their lives. So isolated were they that hardly any homes had electricity. There was a single, ancient generator that provided enough electricity to run the lights in the doctor’s clinic and a few homes. In addition, someone once had a radio but that broke and no one knew how to fix it, save Jin but he was away at that time.

            Jin was the exception to all the rules of the village. He had showed up, smiling as though he had lived there all his life fifteen years before. He built for himself a small home and inside, furnished it with worldly items from around the world. Indeed, his home looked more like what one would find an affluent part of Hong Kong or Tokyo, rather than a rural Korean village. According to him, Jin left the country quite often; whenever he felt like it. While that didn’t seem so strange to the younger generations, the elders realized that it was impossible to leave- or enter- North Korea without special permission. Yet, Jin would leave for a month and return later with electronic equipment from China and Japan and food and books from America and Britain.

            And that was the character that the children found, bowing his head in prayer at a shrine. They watched in silence for it was rude to interrupt a grown up when he prayed. Jin didn’t move a muscle for several minutes. Then, suddenly, his eyes fluttered open. He sat back, looked at the children and smiled.

            “How long were you there?” Jin asked. He reached into his pocket, fumbling around for a cigarette. He found one, pulled it out and put it in his mouth only to realize that he had no lighter.

            Opting not to answer his question and change the subject completely, as children often do, one piped up and asked, “Who were you praying to?”

            Jin grinned. “The Spirit-Folk, naturally. They want me to send their greetings to Yang Tong Su.”

            Some of the children looked at him oddly. Most didn’t believe in the old rituals. “Why? Do the Spirit-Folk talk back when you pray?”

            “Oh…” Jin rolled his eyes as if it was obvious. “Of course they talk back. Why would I talk to them if they didn’t talk back? That’d be boring.”

            A few of the children giggled. Yang never spoke of the Spirit-Folk in ways that they could understand.

            “In fact, they just told me some very interesting news.”

            Seeing that he had the children’s attention, Jin reached into his back pocket and found a nearly empty book of matches. He deliberately failed to the light the stick the first few times and on the fourth, he got it. He slowly and delicately put the flame to the head of the cigarette in his mouth, blew out the match and took several long puffs from his cigarette.

            “The Spirit-Folk told me… There are men coming to our village. Ones who haven’t paid them homage.”

            The children stared at Jin. “What’s so interesting about that?”

            Jin laughed. “It’s not very interesting, is it? Ah! But, would you like to know why the Spirit-Folk consider it interesting?”

            This got the children’s attention again.

            “Whenever someone disrespects the Spirit-Folk… They become angry. And when they become angry… They fight. Many centuries ago, when the Mongolians came from the North-“ Jin point off into the distance, towards a direction that most likely wasn’t North. “-they didn’t pay homage to the Spirit-Folk. So… as they slept… their camp was surrounded by a ring of fire! And their horses became mad and charged through the camp! The horses chased the men through the fire, burning them all! The ones that got away and into the forest… The Spirit-Folk never had such a good meal.”

            Jin grinned wickedly. “And when the Japanese came from the West… The Spirit-Folk were most displeased. So willing to die for the emperor? Ha! Then the Spirit-Folk must’ve honored the emperor greatly for not one Japanese left… With his legs.”

            A cold win blew over the group as the children stared at Jin, part in horror and part in interest. The smoke from his cigarette was piling up over his head. Jin’s eyes were dark and twisted as he looked down at the children. For a second, it had seemed that he himself had transformed into one of the Spirit-Folk. Then, suddenly, he became jovial again.

            “But, the Spirit-Folk are such liars! They claim to have invented rocks.”

            The children laughed.

            Meanwhile, not far from Yungsool, Kim Suk Hyung led his men deeper and deeper into the forest. It was not a mission he had wanted to lead. It was not a mission Kim had wanted to go on period. There was an ominous feeling about the mountains there… They seemed to be harboring something… deep. A deep darkness that was alluring but deadly at the same time.

            Their mission was simple. Political radicals were supposedly hiding in Yungsool and the government had dispatched soldiers to find or kill them. Either was acceptable. There was one “small” complication, however. Yungsool was so isolated that no government officials had ever been there. News reached the village rather slowly as well. In other words, North Korea knew they had power over the village. The people of Yungsool just didn’t.

            Things began to go badly almost from the beginning. They had landed at noon and were in the forest by one. Only, after five minutes of walking in the forest, the shadows had grown to unnatural proportions. It seemed like night as the men cautiously made there way through the woods. Several times and with increasing frequency, the shadows seemed to move on there own. Sometimes, they were very sudden and abrupt movements but other times, they seemed for form laughing skulls.

            In Kim’s squad was his brother, Hong. They walked next to each other, sharing the light from Hong’s red cigarette lighter. It was his prized possession, a gift from their father for his fifteenth birthday. Hong was never without it.

            “We can’t be far…” muttered Kim to no one in particular. It was getting hard to walk. The vines and roots of the forest floor were becoming thicker and thicker. Hong was about to say something but there was a loud rustling behind them. Both Hong and Kim spun around.

            The soldier behind them stared at the brothers. He opened his mouth to say something but before he could, the blackness of the shadows crept out and like a snake swallowing its prey… took him.

            Hong swore loudly. He thrust his lighter into the darkness but, in a second, the light went out. The shadows wrapped around his arm and ripped him in too. Kim watched, his mouth hanging open.

            Moments later, screams from the rest of his men jerked Kim awake. Shots were fired into the darkness as more and more of the soldiers disappeared. The fear hit Kim like a truck, starting in his stomach and spreading out. It froze his muscles. He couldn’t move. Then, he felt the shadows grab his arms and hold him in place.

            The forest was silent for a few seconds.

            Then, more screams. The soldiers were being tossed back and forth between the shadows. A hole in the tree tops opened and light poured in. That only allowed Kim to witness the vile spectacle before him.

            The shadows threw the soldiers like they were playing a game of catch. However, bits of shadow would strike out from deep within the trees and cut gashes into the soldiers as they flew, screaming in fear and pain.

            That went on for a few minutes. Slowly, the soldiers began to die from their wounds. It wasn’t over yet, though. Kim was still too scared to move. The shadows lowered Hong in front of him, screaming. They snaked around Hong and very delicately, the shadows cut into his skin, drawing blood. Hong screamed louder and louder and began to cry. As sobs racked his body, his tears mixed with his blood as the shadows cut across his forehead, down his arms and side. Then, even more slowly than the previous atrocity had been committed, the shadows began peeling the wounded skin from Hong’s body.

            Finally, even the shadows took pity on Hong as he screamed. The shadows ripped his body to shreds before Kim’s eyes, splattering blood everywhere.

            Kim’s mind was spinning. He didn’t understand what had just happened. Couldn’t understand it. With strength not of this world, he ripped himself from the clutches of the shadows and willed his body to run.

            Kim ran for a long time. Through the black forest. He ran harder and longer and faster than he ever had in his life. His body was pulsing with pain and agony but Kim refused to stop and breath.

            He finally stopped when he came to a small stream and tripped, falling into the water. The cool, clean water, washing over his body was… heavenly. Panting and sobbing, Kim fell asleep there, sprawled in the stream.

            It was night when he awoke. Kim’s military training kicked in. He looked around, made sure there were no enemies- or comrades- near him. He had lost his rifle but not his knife so he drew that and stalked off into the darkness.

            It was not long before Kim began to smell food. When the smells of meat and vegetables and wine reached his nostrils, his stomach began loudly protesting its lack of nourishment. Finally, Kim relented and followed his nose towards the smells.

            His nose took him to a small house on the edge of the forest. Lights were on inside and it was obvious the food was being cooked inside. He stumbled up to the door and knocked.

            The door opened quickly. Vaguely, Kim thought that it was like someone had been waiting for him. Maybe his men were there…?

            Instead of a soldier greeting him, a startled young woman did.

            “Who are you?!” she asked, her voice full of surprise.

            “Lieutenant Kim Suk Hyung,” he answered. He took a faltering step inside the home. The woman, more of a girl, really, took a step back.

            “You look awful!” she cried. “What happened?”

            There were a few seconds of painful silence. Then the girl spoke.

            “Tell me what happened later. Please, take a bath… Dinner will be ready shortly.” She smiled brightly and led him to the bath.

            Half an hour later, Kim had bathed and was marveling at the girl, whose name he had found out was Hei Taek Soong, and her home. There was a spacious dining room which he was sitting in but the other rooms were furnished with exotic electronics and furniture from around the world. It didn’t occur to Kim, in his dazed state, to wonder why and how the girl had acquired these things.

            “Dinner is served!” Hei said happily. She brought out a platter with bowls of soup and meat which Kim graciously accepted. She poured for him a glass of berry wine and sat down herself. He didn’t notice that she had not set aside for herself.

            Kim took a long, deep drink from his wine, surprised at the taste. It was sweet but with an almost meat-like coppery taste to it. He quite enjoyed it and finished his glass in another long gulp.

            “Mr. Hyung, what on earth were you doing out in the forest?” asked Hei. Kim shook his head.

            “I think I was hallucinating…” he said slowly. Yes, that must’ve been it. He had gotten lost from his men and hallucinated.

            “Ah,” the girl said. “Yes, there’ve been cases of that around here. Occasionally, villagers will get lost while out hunting and they’ll become so confused that they begin to hallucinate.”

            Kim laughed happily. Yes! It had only been a hallucination! He dug into the meat next. He picked up the first sliver and brought it to his lips. It smelled not unlike chicken but Kim could tell it wasn’t… He popped it into his mouth and smiled.

            “Miss Soong… This is excellent! What is it? Chicken?”

            Hei only smiled. “An old family recipe,” she answered. Kim ate more and more of his food and Hei seemed to grow more and more elated as he ate. Finally, he finished his first bowl and Hei brought out a second.

            She stopped suddenly as she put it in front of him, as if she had just noticed something.

            “Would you like a cigarette?!” Hei almost yelled abruptly. Kim stared at her strangely for a second, his attention away from the bowl but then nodded.

            “Yes… That’d be lovely.”

            Much to his surprise, Hei reached into the pocket of her dress and thrust a packet of cigarettes with English writing on them at Kim. He took them politely, extracted one cigarette and reached around in his pockets for his matchbook. He found it but much to his dismay, it had become wet while he was in the stream.

            “Do you have a light?” Kim asked. If she had cigarettes, he reasoned, she must have a lighter or matches.

            Hei nodded and dug around in the pocket of her dress again. She retrieved a lighter, lit the flame, and leaned over the table to light the cigarette that poked out of Kim’s mouth.

            The lighter was red. A red cigarette lighter. Kim stared at it. Before Hei could light his cigarette, he roughly grabbed her wrist. He twisted it sideways and into the light came the spot where Hong had carved his name.

            “How did you get this?!” demanded Kim. Hei didn’t answer. She couldn’t meet his gaze. Instead, her eyes slowly traveled down to the bowl sitting in front of Kim. He looked down, still holding her wrist.

            Poking out of the meat was a finger.

            Kim threw Hei’s wrist away and stood up, knocking his chair back. He stared in horror at the girl. She smiled sheepishly and ran a hand through her hair.

            “It seems your men served you even in death, eh, Commander?” Hei said, smiling. Slowly, her skin darkened and became rougher. Her hair shortened and her eyes narrowed. She grew almost a foot. The shape of her face rearranged itself and became bonier. Within seconds, it was not a young girl who looked back at Kim but a full grown man… dressed like a young girl.

            Kim’s mouth fell open. He couldn’t manage a single sound. Jin smirked.

            “Boo,” he said. That set Kim running. He stumbled out of the house, tripping over furniture and into the night.

            Kim ran even harder into the forest than he had when he was running out of it. It was even harder now, too. The food and wine had dulled his senses and muscles. His feet were being caught in the vines again and his head was spinning. He felt like waves were crashing against him. Finally, he tripped and slammed into the ground.

            There Kim lay for a minute. Then, he felt a tightness around his body. Black surrounded him. The darkness came out him and the shadows bore their strength against him. It was only a few seconds later that Kim stopped thinking. Before his mind went completely, he heard the man who had been the girl’s voice.

            “It is unwise, Commander… To not respect the Spirit-Folk.”

            “Oh, Mr. Soong, thank you so much for performing the rituals for me again!” cried Yang Tong Su for the fifth time during the night. Jin had invited him, his wife, his son and his son’s wife to dinner.

            “Mr. Su, think nothing of it! I quite enjoy performing the rituals!”

            Yang laughed. “You’re the only one! None of the young people want to take the time to learn what the Spirit-Folk have to say! It is unforgivable!”

            Jin shook his head. “Oh, I find that hard to believe!” Yang’s wife, his son, and his son’s wife rolled their eyes.

            “Mr. Soong, this dinner is wonderful! The meat… So tender and juicy! Is it chicken? And the wine… Such a beautiful shade of crimson!” cried Moon Li, Yang’s son’s wife.

            Shin Li, Yang’s son, nodded in agreement. “It’s great! If only some people-“ he glanced briefly at his wife and grinned-“could cook this well!” He nudged his wife playfully, as if she had not gotten the messaged and she nudged back in the ribs not so playfully.

            Ji Young, Yang’s wife, smiled warmly at Jin, ignoring her son. “Mr. Soong… What do you call this dish?”

            Jin smiled. Very briefly, his face became like that of a fox. “It’s an old family recipe… We call it… The Commander’s Last Meal. Now, eat up…”