King Cobra’s chamber
“Stop-! Stop-! Stop crying inside my head! Stop crying about your damned mother!” In a voice torn as crushing waves, King Cobra agonised loudly; face buried in his palm, while kneeling on top of what appeared to be piles of corpses that raised to form a small hill.
Beneath him were columns of broken limbs and torso, scattered about like leftovers from a voracious feast that was neither fulfilling nor appetising. Pool of blood encricled them within a crimson spotlight, soaking their black and white limps skin-deep red.
This was the third feast the king had had in the last three days, yet nothing could appease him. From human to demon slaves, he ran through them like picking skin, leaving the spared demon apprehensive, as if their lives were hanging by a thread that could snap at any second when King Cobra’s irritation flared.
Something about the King just felt unsettling.
A snake crawled up the King’s shoulder and began swaying along an enchanting flow, but the elite demon immediately snatched it by the body and pushed it down his throat, squashing the creature as he swallowed vigorously with each inhale until the entire slimy length disappeared into his congested chest.
Then his bewailing continued.
“Shut up! I don’t want to know your secret! I don’t want to know your promises! You’re just a stray thing! Very noisy! Very noisy!” With his head clasped tightly in his hands, he shoved himself in all directions before finally losing balance and falling face down into the pool of blood.
There, in plain sight, a huge neck hump engraved with the face of a pale young man came to sight. His chalk white lips was chapped, frozen and traces of bluish green veins could be seen pulsing beneath his skin.
The demon slaves quickly rushed backwards and tried to hide behind each other.
“Get this f*cking voice out of my head!! This is not what I want. That damned girl tricked me into eating this DISEASE! This ugly DISEASE!!” The King screamed.
The demons nudged each other to step up and help their king, but none would take the initiative. Each moment was a taut canvas in King Cobra’s mind, restless for every little stimulant to add a touch of colour.
Without a warning, the King drove into the crowd and strangled one demon, while turning around to bite another’s head off. The crowd of demon slaves diffused, but they quickly got stuck amidst their flight after the chains tied around their ankles tangled up during the shuffles of movements.
The fourth feast had started. In a splash of redness, King Cobra continued his rampage and grabbed everyone within arm's reach. A demon slipped behind him in an attempt to escape, but as she turned back, she found herself staring into a pair of obsidian black eyes, overflowing with tears.
It’s the face of a young man on the King’s neck hump. What did King Cobra eat? Is that a demon or a human?
As if he had sensed her stare, a shivering madness rushed up King Cobra’s spine and instantly commanded his anger, “What are you peeping at? Who has given you the permission to look behind my back?”
In a clean scooping motion, he plucked her eyeballs out. “Dare to look behind my back again! Dare to look behind my back again! You beggar! You beggar!”
The warning was as much a threat to other than an assurance to himself that his dignity as the untouchable prideful elite demon wouldn’t be compromised.
Suddenly, King Cobra slipped to the ground, unable to lift both his legs. For a moment, silence was restored in this chamber until he started shrieking again.
“STOP THE HOWLING!! I SAID I DON’T WANT TO LISTEN TO YOU WHINING! I DON’T WANT TO KNOW YOUR FAMILY'S MISERABLE DEEDS! ROT IN HELL!!”
King Cobra smashed his own head on the ground a few times before drilling his finger beneath his headbandage into the depths of his ears, desperate to reach for the wailing that wouldn’t shut up.
Amid this struggle, a tingling sound bled into his focus, as it danced to shifting weights dangling from above. King Cobra looked up and noticed that all the chains hanging from the roof were swaying violently.
“Someone is calling me?” He reached out for one of the chains that was drenched in blood and wrenched it down to the floor. Tied to it was the unconscious soul of a freshly dead man.
King Cobra used his boot to flip the body upright and stroke his face.
A realisation thundered in his mind. “This attire…this old man is an Oracle.”
Still gasping from the mental pain in his head, a feeling of excitement quickly overtook his panic.
“What a beautiful offering worthy of a king’s attention! Now, let me see who this person is knocking on my chamber.”
The demon nodded in approval and leaned down to glimpse into the eyes of the dead Oracle’s soul. The blank stare that glanced back spiralled like a dark tunnel and took King Cobra’s consciousness into an endless loop of circular flashbacks until he felt a cold, hard concrete floor beneath his palm and a bright light trying to pierce through his closed eyelids.
Amused, King Cobra opened his eyes to find himself lying on a cold hospital floor, in a bleach white space filtered by the light of a gigantic moon that was peeping through the broken window.
He rolled his eyes to the side, and there, standing to his right, was the Captain of the Lotus Town, Koi, holding a sword that was piercing right through the Oracle’s heart. It was then that he noticed he was viewing through the lens of the corpse.
“Finally, you are here,” Koi spoke; he was panting heavily from what appeared to be the work of the demonic curse on his shoulder, glowing red beneath his black coat.
“Looks like you managed to ring my chamber bell through the curse that binds your soul to me. What a despicable man! I hate that arrogance, but I shall grant you an audience. What do you want to beg for? Let's see if you are worthy.”
Koi’s eyes widened like it was on the brink of explosion. “Dear King, what an honour to be your audience. I want to make a contract, I am sure it will be in your best interest.”
Lotus Town
Groups of Angels were seen patrolling every street corner, questioning people as they passed by and making notes of any observations in the neighbourhood. Shadowy lines of defeat marked their brows and eyes, strained further by sunken cheeks that carved the flesh from their faces.
Curious eyes traced their movements; from the shop owners to the residents, everyone was glued to the smallest action of the Angels, trying to catch words from their mouths like fishing for gold.
“Captain is not here either.”
“What if captain—”
“There’s no way captain would—”
Captain this, captain that, the chatters put the town in a heightened state of horror as people exchange glances, asking the questions, “What is coming next? Will I be the next one?”
The House of Glory
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Several groups of Angels was also stationed inside the temple and around the entrance, while the teachers went about their daily routine, trying to make the most out of their day.
Inside one of the private prayer rooms of the main temple, Hue sat cross-legged on a cushion, fiddling with a beaded necklace. Pushing one bead through at a time with the tips of his thumb and index finger, he counted them as he meditated. There were a total of 108 beads; however, no matter how hard he counted, the numbers kept slipping in his mind.
Teacher Lay, on the other hand, was occupied with the preparation of the restoration ritual. Besides a few quick glances at Hue, he had his eyes locked on the low rosewood table in front of him.
This restoration ritual was meant to be quick and easy, he reminded himself, as he lit two candles and placed them on each side of an incense holder, before setting the incense stick alight as well. A speck of redness came to life like a gentle smile, followed by a thin column of smoke that ascended in a straight line before diffusing across the room, carrying with it a subtle smell of warm earth and sweet wood.
In the middle of the table, he placed a tall wooden arch decor held together by a bridge made of a brass plate engraved with a drawing of wings. Suspended from the centre of the plate was a small vintage brass bell decorated with circular pattern carvings.
The set up was simple, teacher Lay nodded to himself, but there was a few more things left.
Hue caught the smell of sandalwood and immediately tensed up. The calmness growing around him only brought more clarity to the question in his mind, a question he tried to suppress but grew stronger with every silent minute.
What is the meaning behind the Lord’s words about repeating tragedy? What is my own interpretation? How can I understand if I don’t have the chance to explore what I am looking for?!
Tin’s death rewinded in Hue’s mind, still as vivid as ever. The explosion that ended his suffering returned to Hue like an echo from a void, filling the quiver of his heart with a thrusting beat. It was the sound of guilt that was calling to him, reminding him of the broken family he took part in destroying, and for that, he would pay, until the guilt subdued.
“Are we beginning soon?” Hue attempted to ease his growing agitation.
“Yes, but I need to collect some more things from outside. Please continue to meditate, while I excuse myself.”
“What are you collecting?”
“A bo tree branch and a bow of water from the lotus pond. Oh, I will also need to brew a bo tea for you to drink.”
“Can I go with you, teacher? I am feeling a little suffocated. I want to get some fresh air.”
“Of course.”
The pair made their way to the exterior corridor towards the lotus pond. Hue surveyed the trees in the compound, and an idea popped into his mind. “I can collect the tree branch if it helps.”
“Very well, I will get some water from the pond then.” Teacher Lay agreed delightfully and left Hue to check on the surroundings himself.
A slight breeze rustled the leaves and brought the trees to life. Their branches swayed from left to right in a bending motion, casting a dancing shadow over Hue’s solemn figure.
Still unsettled with his thoughts, he tormented himself with question after question.
Damn, am I really giving up? How can I make up to Mrs Yang when I haven’t even tried hard enough? How can I face myself if things don’t turn out the way I hope?
He roamed between two large bo trees in search of external comfort, nested under the darkest of shades and mindlessly ruffled all the small branches that crept in his direction.
The night breeze teased him with a shy coldness. He let out a loud sneeze and pulled his coat tighter when, suddenly, the silhouette of an approaching teacher almost spooked him to shriek.
The teacher greeted him politely, and Hue returned an awkward nod as if trying to hide his suspicious thought.
To divert his attention, he rolled his eyes down to the hands of the teacher, possessing a basket of what looked like freshly collected mushrooms.
“You grow mushrooms here?” He inquired.
“Oh, you mean this? They are indeed mushrooms, but I am removing them from the wood managed by the House just by the side of the compound.”
“Really? Why so?”
“That’s because a lot of young, inexperienced teachers would sometimes purposefully consume mushrooms to reach a state of trance in meditation. Here, we do not encourage using intoxicants in meditation practice and want everyone to train their mind by themselves.”
“Interesting...” A thought shot through his mind. Hue carefully walked toward the teacher. “Teacher, could I ask for your assistance to find a good bo tree branch for me? I am going to do a restoration ritual with Teacher Lay, and I volunteered to collect the branch. But after looking at them, I am feeling rather confused and dizzy.”
Hue gave a shy, embarrassing smile that made his deformed lip twist upward in an unnatural shape.
“Of course!” The teacher replied enthusiastically. “Have a seat here and take a rest. I will find a good young branch with ample leaves for you.”
The teacher placed the mushroom basket down and went over to the trees without thinking twice.
As she turned around, Hue quickly grabbed a handful of mushrooms in his greedy palm and shoved them inside his sleeves. He immediately looked around to make sure the teacher didn’t catch the slightest hint of his action.
Maybe a trance state would allow me to talk to my intuition.
After a brief minute, the teacher cut a nice young branch and handed it to Hue, explaining the details of her choice from the size of the leaves to the thickness of the branch.
Hue already lost the mood to talk and inattentively agreed to all her words to speed up the conversation.
When they finally bid goodbye, Teacher Lay was already waiting for him by the staircase that led to the corridor.
The teacher could see an obvious improvement in the young exorcist’s mood and praised his hard work. Hue, not differentiating between his own minimal effort and the other kind teacher’s support in retrieving the bo branch, was beyond proud and wholeheartedly embraced the positive remarks all the way back to the room.
Inside the room, the teacher prepared the bo leaves tea while Hue sat back on his cushion. He stole quick glances at the busy teacher before digging out the mushrooms from his sleeves and throwing them right into his mouth.
A strong chemical taste immediately shot up his nostrils and made him want to gag, but he held it back like an honourable actor ready for the start of a shooting.
The teacher came back with a hot tea in his hand. “Now drink the tea before it gets cold. It is quite earthy but not very bitter.”
Hue nodded and quickly drank the whole tea in one go, not one moment dropping his smirk. The teacher was pleasantly shocked by his prompt action.
Just a trance, it won’t be that bad, right? If anything happened, the teacher should be able to help me, too. Hue thought to himself.
The teacher now placed the bowl of pond water on the table and sank the branch in until it got nicely soaked up.
Hue resumed counting the beads and closed his eyes for meditation. Please, I want some answer from my intuition.
With a gentle knock, Teacher Lay rang the small brass bell hanging on the arch of the wooden decor. A low vibration washed over the room in a layer of smooth tidal advance, stirring Hue’s ear clear of white noises.
Even with his eyes shut, he could trace the teacher’s steps walking up to him and make out the graceful movement of his hand brushing the wet bo branch across Hue’s shoulder, down his spine and up to his head, touching all the strains in his muscle and bone.
“May the all vitalising water rinse away the old and the bad…” The teacher chanted with a melodic depth, “...purge the body of all negative thoughts and energy, clear its stream of blood life with the sublime flow of the sun’s radiance and the moon’s tranquillity.”
Hue tensed up as the twigs and leaves caressed his skin and left behind cold tricklings of water that were soon subdued by the internal warmth pulsing within him.
The weird synergy of intimate warmth and fear of uncertainty stripped words from his thoughts until he slowly found himself surrendering to a state of mind without a clear concept to grasp.
What is this? Am I entering a trance? Is it this soon?
The chanting got louder, almost like it was reverberating inside his head, with his innate voice following the predetermined script he had yet to understand.
The smoke rose to the roof of the room and smeared all edges of details in a blurry diffusion of light. The chilly air rode along and settled in the corner, uninvited.
Amidst this heightened sense of self, Hue started to whisper in between words of chants.
Free…free…free…I need to set free beyond this physical reality, let my intuition kick in and let it converse in voices I could hear.
“Hue?” The teacher seemed to call out from beyond a foggy veil. His voice quivered in blurry pitches devoid of a sense of concrete touch.
“Hue?!” This time, it came in stronger with a slight budging movement, but Hue felt too heavy a weight in his muscles to attempt a response. Instead, he allowed himself to drift through the haze of a drowsy sensation and slowly yielded to an inner calmness.
Suddenly, Teacher Lay tightened his grip around Hue’s arm and shoved him forward in a dragging motion. Hue resisted and held himself back with strength tenfold.
It felt so wrong to comprehend how a teacher, who beheld the gentle nature of a feathery animal just a minute ago, would pull someone in such a harsh manner.
Against Hue’s resistance, the teacher paused for a second before running both his hands down the exorcist’s head. His sweaty palms brushed Hue’s bandaged skin, leaving no crooked details of his lost feature spared from touch.
Hue was alarmed, his spine flared up in heat as he burst his eyes wide open with embarrassed rage, “Why are you touching me like that?!”
But the face that stared back into his eyes was unfamiliar. That person was inches of breath away from his face, seizing his attention with the eyes of a curious predator.
His body, pale like a shaved bone out of a cannibal kitchen, bore no sign of pulse. There were patches of bruised blue across the white canvas of skin, which blossomed like blue lilies beside cracked holes that dotted his body from head to toe.
“Those bruises and cracked skin…” Hue recalled, “Y-y-you are M-Mr Yang? W-why are y-you here?”
