Stranger that I Know: The Forgotten Promise

3 – Intruder Through the Window

It is a Myth, or Perhaps a Tale Untold

Around four centuries ago, during the era of the Joseon Dynasty in Korea, the kingdom was recovering from the ravages of the Imjin War. Though the land had begun to heal, internal strife festered like an unrelenting shadow. No dynasty, no matter how strong, could escape the inevitable turmoil born of ambition and betrayal.

Amid the kingdom's restoration, Minister Kyung Dong, a man of unwavering loyalty and unparalleled influence, became the pillar upon which King Min Woo Jin leaned.

Entrusted with safeguarding the kingdom's borders, Minister Kyung's wisdom and leadership ensured the realm's defense and stability. Yet, within his own household, a tempest of discord brewed, threatening to undo the legacy he worked tirelessly to build.

The minister's three children were the pride of his lineage. His eldest son, Kyung Jae Hwan, was a paragon of strength, wisdom, and integrity—a worthy successor to continue his father's legacy.

His daughter, Kyung So Yeon, a woman of grace and virtue, was betrothed to the Crown Prince, a union destined to bind the kingdom's future in harmony.

But it was the youngest son, Kyung Jae Min, who harbored envy and resentment in his heart.

Jae Min, born of a lowly concubine, a woman of servile origins, nurtured an ambition as boundless as it was dark, could not accept his father's decision to pass the mantle of leadership to his elder brother.

Consumed by jealousy, he sought not only to usurp Jae Hwan's place but also to sever the ties that connected their family to the royal court.

The engagement between his sister and the Crown Prince was yet another obstacle in his path, one he was determined to destroy.

Desperation drove Jae Min to unthinkable measures. He struck a dark and forbidden pact with the Devil, bartering his soul for the power to achieve his ambitions. The Devil, cunning and cruel, granted him unnatural strength and the ability to manipulate those around him.

Under the Devil's influence, Jae Min orchestrated the death of his own sister, Kyung So Yeon, extinguishing her life before she could ascend as the Crown Princess. Her demise sent shockwaves through the court and left the Crown Prince vulnerable to Jae Min's insidious manipulations.

Meanwhile, Jae Hwan, wise and perceptive, uncovered the depths of his younger brother's treachery.

Grief-stricken and enraged by the loss of his beloved sister, Jae Hwan vowed to stop Jae Min, no matter the cost. He sought the guidance of a powerful shaman, a keeper of ancient rites, to counteract the unholy forces aiding his brother.

Together, they devised a plan to trap the Devil, severing its connection to Jae Min and rendering him powerless.

Through a ritual of great peril, the shaman and Jae Hwan confronted the Devil. The dark entity was bound and weakened, but Jae Min's soul had been so deeply corrupted that he could no longer be saved. His ambition had plunged him beyond redemption.

The shaman and Jae Hwan enacted a ritual of purification, invoking the flames of spiritual retribution to cleanse the world of Jae Min's accursed existence.

Bound by enchanted chains, Jae Min was cast into a roaring fire. His body burned until all that remained were ashes scattered to the winds.

The Devil, true to its infernal bargain, claimed Jae Min's soul and dragged it into the depths of hell, descending into the netherworld where no light could follow.

With the darkness vanquished, Kyung Jae Hwan emerged as a hero, his name etched into the annals of history. Under his guidance, Minister Kyung's family rebuilt its honor, and peace was restored to the Joseon Dynasty.

Though the scars of betrayal lingered, the tale of Jae Min's fall and Jae Hwan's triumph became a cautionary legend, whispered through the ages.

"It is said that ambition untempered by virtue leads only to ruin, while courage, wisdom, and faith in righteousness hold the power to banish even the deepest shadows".

The old Sangsaeng sat cross-legged, his frail body a testament to the passing of countless seasons. Around him gathered the film crew, intrigued by the tale he had just narrated, a legend long preserved by his tribe.

The tribe, known for their harmonious existence with nature, eschewed the greed and complexities of modern civilization.

"What does this story have to do with Shrine or you people living here?"

the director asked, his curiosity evident. The drama they were filming was inspired by the ancient legend, but the characters and places described in the story seemed to have no connection to their current location.

The elder's thin, bony finger rose, pointing to the Shrine. Its silhouette loomed in the distance, unyielding and silent, even after four centuries.

"The Devil was sealed within that Shrine,"

The Sangsaeng replied, his voice a whisper of the wind.

"And it was here, right before Shrine, that the ritual of soul cleansing was performed."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.

"This location was chosen to keep the common people away from the Devil's corruption and to ensure they wouldn't interfere with the ritual. My ancestors were tasked with guarding the Shrine, for though the Devil was banished, traces of his essence remained, a gateway that could summon him back."

"There's no record of any Minister Kyung in history, let alone his family,"

Ilya interjected, standing abruptly. His tone carried a hint of disdain.

"It's just a children's tale. There's no such thing as gods or devils."

The Sangsaeng turned his eyes to Ilya, his gaze unfazed by the actor's dismissal.

"You do not see them, but they are watching your every move," he said cryptically.

Something churned in Ilya's stomach. He felt an inexplicable wave of unease, as if a hand had reached into his chest and twisted his insides. The old man's response only fueled his irritation, his nerves snapping under the weight of the conversation.

"Aren't you too old to live among people? Why don't you just die and prove the Devil exists?"

Ilya spat, his voice sharp and cruel as he turned his back to leave.

Behind him, gasps filled the air. The crew exchanged uneasy glances, whispering among themselves. Ilya, however, walked away unfazed. He knew that no matter how harsh his words were, his fans would never hear about it.

"Ilya, you're making it harder and harder to maintain your image,"

Leo, his manager, hurried after him.

"Why do you keep opening your mouth and ruining everything Vice President Cairo has worked so hard to build for you?"

"Take your crap elsewhere,"

Ilya retorted, tossing the empty paper cup in his hand toward Leo's face. He changed direction, his eyes drawn to the Shrine in the distance.

For fifteen nights, he had returned to this place, hoping to see that face again. Yet the stillness of the Shrine mocked his anticipation. He leaned against a tree, a cigarette between his fingers, his gaze fixed on the heavy, shadowed doors. The moonlight bathed the surroundings, but the Shrine's entrance remained shrouded in darkness.

The memory of that day replayed in his mind. His fingers brushed his forehead, recalling the sensation.

"Was he… licking me?" Ilya thought, the question as absurd as it was unsettling.

A sudden, sharp headache struck him, interrupting his thoughts. His phone buzzed, breaking the silence. The screen displayed Vice President Cairo's name.

"How's the shoot going, Finn?" Cairo's voice, calm and gentle, poured into his ears like Balm.

Ilya smiled unknowingly. He often stirred up trouble just so Leo would call Cairo, ensuring the man would reach out.

"All good," Ilya replied, his voice softer.

"Though playing a female character is a bit embarrassing."

"I've seen the pictures,"

Cairo said, his tone laced with amusement.

"You're breathtakingly beautiful. No woman could compare to your elegance just perfect for the beautiful princess character."

The compliment sent a flush to Ilya's ears, the cold night air doing little to cool him.

"You think so? Maybe I'll wear it for you someday,"

 he replied, his voice tinged with coyness.

But before the conversation could continue, noises from Cairo's end broke through.

"Anyway, I have something urgent to handle. Just a few more days of outdoor shooting, and then you'll be back in the studio. Keep up the good work."

Cairo ended the call hurriedly, leaving Ilya staring at the screen with an unreadable expression. He didn't glance back at the Shrine, instead walking briskly toward his quarters.

Once inside his room, he locked the door and opened the window, gazing at the people still gathered below. The chill wind brushed against him as he prepared for bed. After a quick bath, exhaustion claimed him the moment his body hit the mattress.

As his breathing slowed, even and deep, a shadow slipped through the open window. A figure moved silently across the room, its face obscured by long, dark hair. It stood over Ilya, hand outstretched, reaching for him.

But in an instant, Ilya's eyes shot open, his hand snapping up to grab the intruder's wrist mid-air.