I woke up to the sound of someone whistling pleasantly. Or rather, someone plotting my murder menacingly. That’s what it sounded like anyway. For what other reason would someone be whistling the theme song of Jeepers Creepers beside me? So, it’s safe to say I didn’t wake up all too gracefully, though when do I ever? Especially when various images of Freddy, Jason, and flying, skin stealing monsters are all I can imagine as I recognized that utterly creepy song for what it was.

It’s also safe to say that I threw a few punches at the source of the whistling. It was an act of self-defense. I don’t exactly enjoy the idea of being skinned alive so sue me if I sock the face of the person who was humming the tune. Then again, he’s not exactly a person.

He’s a Xiezhi named Zelo.

And he wasn’t pleased in the least with the punch I delivered to his jaw and the kick to his abdomen as he stared at me with large eyes.

“Sorry.” I really meant it, though the haste with which I resorted to apologizing made me sound insincere; that combined with the fact that my mind was still hazed by sleep. I reached out, patting his shoulder as though that would somehow soothe the pain of his head and his stomach. “You shouldn’t be so creepy though with all the whistling. Where’d you hear that song anyway?”

Zelo pursed his lips as he answered, sitting back up straight in his position on the wooden floor, “Youngjae was humming it earlier.”

Should I be scared?

I’d say fear is warranted in this situation.

About Youngjae humming the theme song to Jeepers Creepers and about the fact that I only just now remembered that I wasn’t waking up in my bed the morning after sleeping all night. No, I passed out. Quite an unglamorous way to put it but that’s what happened. I didn’t have my chest go aflutter before fainting.

I passed out, my body surely colliding with the snow covered ground face first. Which left a much more important question than the selection of tunes Youngjae chooses to hum.

“What happened to me?” I posed to Zelo before mentally face palming and speaking again, “No, I know what happened to me.”

I took a deep breath as I took in my surroundings. My eyes scanned over the wooden floor Zelo and I now sat on along with the paper covered walls surrounding us. Not far from where we were was a low desk with a fresh set of paper and a calligraphy brush at the ready set upon it. Lining parts of the walls were short shelves filled with books and scrolls. On the far side of the room stood a thin wooden dresser and I knew immediately where we were.

That dresser was one I had particularly painful memories about.

My grandfather ered me into helping him carry it up to the shrine last summer in case he had to stay away from home at night and needed extra clothes.

And it’s certainly not the lightest thing in the world.

Far from it actually.

So then, this was my grandfather’s study.

My grandfather’s study in the shrine which, as I recalled, I had seen just earlier coated in thick, black ash.

That is, before I out so elegantly.

So then the what and the where was answered.

Which now left the question of why.

“Why did I pass out?” I asked Zelo who had been staring at me this entire time with those dark azure tinted eyes of his. And he continued to stare at me a few seconds longer, as though he didn’t understand the question. No, no that wasn’t it. He stared on at me as though to say, Why are you asking me?

A question not posed due to the fact that he had no idea what happened and thus wasn’t the person I should be asking. Rather, a question posed about why I had to ask in the first place. Which means he’s doing it again.

He’s seeing through me like it’s nothing.

And I didn’t fancy being read like a book.

“Are you not going to explain it to me?”

I waited.

I waited and waited and waited for his response.

And it wasn’t at all what I wanted to hear.

The Xiezhi’s head tilted to the right, his fringe brushing against his forehead as it swayed in tandem with his action. He blinked at me blankly, naively, despite his words being anything but naïve, anything but ignorant, “That would be like teaching you how to write your own name, wouldn't it?”

“Zelo! Are you talking to yourself or is our violent Sleeping Beauty awake yet?”

I both inwardly and outwardly groaned as I recognized that voice almost immediately. No, not almost. I instantaneously realized who it was whose voice called out to Zelo and now promptly stuck his head into the room, peaking inside with a gummy smile on his face, the very second I heard the first syllable of his statement resound through the air.

“She is.” Mr. Demon, Bang Yongguk, answered his own question as bared his white teeth to me, his canines looking sharper and more carnivorous with an appetite for my misfortune each and every time I saw them, “Did you enjoy your little beauty nap on my jacket? You looked so comfortable earlier, all snuggled up to it and what not.”

It took me a moment to process his words due to my reflex reaction to ignore any and all things he said in that mischievous tone of his. But, when I realized what he said and realized only then that there was indeed the feeling of soft fleece underneath my fingertips, I scowled.

I scowled and pulled the jacket from underneath me before hurling it at him, hitting him square on the nose. And I heard not a grunt of pain but that awful, boisterous laughter.

Despite not in the least liking the fact that he was enjoying my reactions to him once more, I have to thank Mr. Demon later for getting me out of that less than desired conversation Zelo was attempting to initiate.

I won’t thank him to his face though.

I’ll thank him through stepping on that red, swaying tail of his just a bit softer next time.

Because I’m certain there will be a next time.

Himchan toppled over, along with the futon in his hands, onto the wooden floor of the not at all black anymore shrine. He didn’t even make a single move to get back up, relishing too much in the feel of the newly washed futon underneath him. He even looked as though he could fall asleep just like that, all snuggled up in it as his tails wrapped around his body, without a doubt attempting to warm himself up from the long trek up the hill he had to make with it.

We had taken it down to the cleaners earlier this afternoon and he successfully sweet talked the poor woman behind the counter into making it as “fresh as her own flower scented shampoo,” as he put it, her top priority. Now, the sun was going down, and with this last piece of bedding, everything was clean again.

All thanks to the Gumiho himself.

And seeing as how we happen to be alone in my grandfather’s study at the moment, I spoke without hesitation.

“Thank you.” I nudged his shoulder with my sock clad foot, earning a beaming smile in return.

What good had this fox done when all he can do is fuss about having to make good?

Well, remember how the shrine was coated in black ash when we arrived this morning? That wasn’t a hallucination. It was indeed a black, ash like substance that was smeared everywhere. What exactly was it?

Bad energy.

That’s what Jongup told me after Mr. Demon and the Xiezhi succeeded in waking me up with teasing comments and serial murder-like whistling.

It was bad energy that was so strong, so potently vicious and filled with loathing, it took the form of that black crust. It was the reason I passed out apparently. The sudden concentration of negative energy hit me like a speeding bullet train. My body couldn’t take it, the reason I felt as though I were suffocating, gasping for air, and I passed out. So then, there’s the why. Now how about the who? Who exactly did such a thing to the shrine in the first place?

Someone who holds a grudge against my grandfather, something belonging to their world, the spirit world, is what Mr. Demon said with a less than mocking tone of voice. As though he actually cared what happened to my grandfather. As though he wasn’t just scared of what would happen if my grandfather came back to find the shrine a mess.

Because well, I was.

And when my grandfather touches my shoulder, I don’t get electrocuted on the spot. Which means he has much more to worry about than I do.

Thinking about that, can I inherit that ability? Oh, the things I could get done in one day if I could zap all the buzzing flies with a single touch.

Flies of the demon variety

Don’t call me inhumane!

Mr. Demon isn’t even human!

I’m just joking anyway.

Maybe.

If I could make with the Taser fingers, I would want to try it at least once.

At least once a month.

I think I’m just as bad as Yongguk. Just imagining him in pain makes me happy. I never thought I would turn out to be a sadist. Which reminds me, there’s a certain masochist underneath my foot right now whose looking up at me with big eyes and an even bigger smile that has only grown wider despite all the pain I’ve put him through.

It’s actually a little bit endearing.

“What are you smiling about?” I retracted my foot, instead opting to squat down to his level, those swaying tails of his really too attractive for my own good. My own good because I had to resist the urge, the unbelievably strong desire, to ask him if I could touch them.

“You thanked me, Sora.” He answered, his hair fluffed up like a bird’s nest as he continued to smile at me as though all was right in the world. And for the first time, he didn’t say “Sora baby” when addressing me since after our first encounter. It felt odd. It left me hanging. It left me hanging on, waiting for him to finish the rest of his sentence with a sing-song “baby.”

But he didn’t. His eyelids fluttered slowly and beneath the brown mesh I saw in his eyes my reflection. Only my reflection as he spoke so naturally I almost didn't notice those nine white plumes he had. “You’ve never done that before. What better reason is there for me to smile?”

It took me by surprise.

And I stared at him, mouth gaping, for a good while.

He was right in his statement that I had never thanked him before. I babied him and catered to him, many times in fact, but not once had I thanked him for something.

Which actually makes me feel bad.

Horrible, in fact.

I don’t even feel horrible about the prospect of using Taser fingers on Mr. Demon in the future but I feel horrible about not having once thanked Kim Himchan?

He actually did a lot for me this time too. As I said before, it’s thanks to him the shrine is clean as can be. As though no spirit or demon or whatever ever even gunked up everything in the first place.  How so? It turns out he has quite a few friends in the spirit world who love to eat bad energy almost as much as he loved to eat human meat. Almost, he said.

Should I be scared?

Should I be scared of a creepy whistling Dokkaebi or a used-to-eat-humans-but-is-now-on-a-self-imposed-diet Gumiho?

For some reason, I’m not scared in the least.

“Okay, where’s the real Kim Himchan and what did you do with him, you imposter?” I laughed.

I actually laughed.

Because it was all too funny.

“I didn’t go anywhere, Sora baby.” He responded, wiggling his body like a worm deeper into the futon.

There he is.

There’s the absurd, attention seeking Gumiho I know and don’t dislike.

And judging from the footsteps I hear approaching us now, the Xiezhi, the Tokebi, the Dokkaebi, the Haechi, and the demon I've come to know for such a short amount of time are about to enter the room.

And I welcome their arrival.

I welcome the arrival of whatever conflict the future holds for us.

Because at the very least, I don’t dislike the spirits and the demon I have to face the conflict with.

That’s what made this all so funny.

So much had changed since I met them. My feelings towards them being the thing that went through the most drastic of changes.

I can’t even imagine how much my life is going to change from now on. 

A/N: Did you know that comments are like kisses? It's a way of showing affection for a story!