by Josh Roberts
She froze. That was it. He felt responsible for David’s death. He believed that if he hadn’t taken her there, David would still be alive.
“David’s death wasn’t your fault. You can’t believe that.” Even as she said the words, she felt their weight pulling her down. Was that really why David had been attacked? Had they led that creature right to him?
Neil stared at her. “I do know. I can feel it. I kicked the hornet’s nest. And now, I’m not going to stop until I’ve found his killer and destroyed it.” She glared at him, knowing he had no idea what type of war he was trying to wage.
“Neil, there’s something else you need to know.” She sighed. “I saw something at the lake today. Something I still can’t quite come to terms with.”
“You barely had time to—”
“It was long enough.”
“What are you telling me?”
“I had another vision, like a waking dream. Only, it was different this time. This one seemed real. I mean, I thought it was real.” He slid forward onto the edge of the booth. She knew the vision appealed to him because it would bring him closer to the answers that he thought he needed, the answers Lissy had thought she wanted too, but was now too terrified to understand.
“What did you see?” He spoke with eagerness, almost pleading with her. His ardor frightened her.
“It was—” She shook her head. She’d thought telling him would deter him, but she was beginning to worry she was wrong. He was too far gone. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
“It’s too late for good ideas. David’s in a jar. I thought telling him was a good idea. I thought letting you pursue this in the first place was a good idea. I’m done caring about good ideas.”
“What do you mean you thought letting me pursue this was a good idea?” Her eyebrows tightened as she glared at him. “Are you blaming me for this?” He stared at her as if only now realizing what he’d just said, and probably realizing that he did blame her—to some extent—for David’s death.
“I just want to know what you saw,” he said, exasperated. “If Mia was having these visions too, then maybe—I don’t know—it has something with you guys, your family.”
Lissy was still seething about Neil blaming her for his brother’s death. While at the same time, she wrestled with the knowledge that she had been at fault for David’s death, if only indirectly.
She considered what Neil had just said, that this could be something she shared with Mia. The thought brought her comfort. Nothing had made her feel closer to Mia for eleven years, and here, in the middle of this night terror, she felt as though she was beginning to find her again. “Do you think that could be true?” she asked. “That this is some curse that Mia and I were both laden with?”
“I mean, it fits. Right?” It did fit. It actually made sense. It was as if this lake monster had traversed eleven years to connect two sisters in the most grotesque way possible. But why?
“It was . . .” she started, then hesitated, watching Neil stare at her with wide eyes. “It was some kind of—” She couldn’t get the words out. “This just feels stupid.”
“It’s not stupid. This isn’t about us, Lis. What you saw is about David and it’s about Mia. Your visions have to be the key.”
Without giving herself time to think, she blurted it out, like the cork finally bursting from the bottle. “It was some kind of dragon.” They stared at each other. He didn’t look confused. He didn’t mock her. He didn’t even respond. He just sat there, mulling over the bomb she’d just dropped on him.
Eventually he asked, “Where do you think it came from?” For the second time after telling him about her visions, he’d accepted it. She couldn’t fathom how. Possibly due to his being raised by Yunjin, who was self-admittedly more likely to believe in this kind of thing.
“Neil, I don’t even know if I believe what I saw. How are you not accusing me of being out of my mind right now?”
“Because I’ve seen too much to disregard this. Think about it. With Mia, the cops found nothing. Four people were destroyed and strewn about the lake, yet whatever was big enough to do that to two star football players and three girls disappeared without a trace. Now bodies start piling up and, again, the cops have no idea. There’s something—a feeling I have—that you’re the key to this, and that . . .” He trailed off, looking out the window.
“What?” Lissy asked.
“And wherever you lead, I’m supposed to follow.”
“Supposed to? Neil, there’s no greater meaning behind all of this. It’s hell. There’s no Great Commission in hell. David’s dead. Mia’s gone. There is nothing bigger out there.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t say that. I just mean, I have this sense—an urgency—to see this through. Don’t you think that if there is something—anything—you can do, that you should do it?”
Lissy thought back to both times she was at the lake that year. She’d felt exactly that, an urgency tugging her closer to this entire thing. But she would not allow herself to go there. She refused to believe that there was something more grandiose at play. “I guess,” she replied hesitantly.
“Then tell me about the dragon.”
She proceeded to lay out the entire vision for him, bit by bit, not leaving anything out. He listened intently, hanging on every word.
“So . . . I was taunting it?” Neil asked.
“Yes. And you wouldn’t leave. You were bent on facing down the thing that took David from you.” She sighed. “It was terrifying.”
“What do you think it means? Is it real?” The question somehow grounded her, bringing her back down to earth. There was no way this dragon was real. Monsters weren’t real. It was either symbolic, or a hallucination.
“It can’t be real. There are no dragons, no monsters. Only hideous humans. That’s it. People commit crimes because they’re twisted. Maybe we all are. Maybe I’m just losing my frigging mind.” She slid out of the booth.
“Where are you going?” Neil asked
“Where we both should have gone after David’s funeral: home. I’m going home to mourn him and to let this go. It ends here.”
Lissy stepped forward to leave, but he grabbed her wrist. “We both know this isn’t just gonna go away. Whatever it is, we’re part of it now.”
She jerked her arm free, almost shouting her reply, “There is no this. We’re not part of anything. There’s a psycho out there killing people, and the police will probably never find him. I’m going home.”
With those parting words, Lissy stormed out of the diner.
20
August 27, 2019
Lissy barely slept after walking out on Neil, wrestling with the contradiction between her belief—that the world was no more than skin deep—and his belief —that there was something more going on below the surface. To his credit, he’d slept on her couch again. She’d decided that staying at Rose’s wasn’t necessary because the visions apparently weren’t linked specifically to the apartment. She was sure he would be too upset to stay, but he didn’t even allude to it when he showed up, making jokes about needing his own bedroom. They’d turned on the TV and sat together for a while, both knowing neither of them was paying attention to the flickering screen.
Now, as she approached Todd and Yunjin’s home, Lissy wondered if her relationship with Neil would survive all this. And if it did, would they just be back in the same disjointed place they’d started two weeks before? She found herself hoping that would not be the case.
As she walked up to the familiar house, the door swung open before she could knock. Yunjin greeted her with a smile. “I am so glad you called. Come in, come in.”
Yunjin’s tea was already on the table. She sat, inviting Lissy to join her. The drink was still hot, and Lissy marveled at the woman’s talents in hospitality. They made small talk for a short time before Yunjin grew serious and said, “Elisabeth, I told you during your last visit that anything you need is yours. Have you called because you are in
need?”
“I-I don’t know. I guess.”
Yunjin nodded and waited for Lissy to continue. She considered backing out, but as she had before, she felt a sense of pure calm with Yunjin. So she proceeded.
“Some weird things have been happening the past couple weeks and . . . I don’t know. I thought you might have some idea of what it all means.”
“I will do my best.” She put her hand on Lissy’s. “Tell me, what has been happening?”
“Well, I’ve been seeing things. Visions of some sort. They seem to be tied to the murders—or the lake at least.” Yunjin didn’t flinch. Lissy couldn’t help but feel like she was surrounded by people who were far too accepting of these types of statements.
“What do you see?”
“I see Neil . . . most of the time. And sometimes I see something I can’t explain.”
“Would you like to try?” Yunjin asked.
“I—” She froze, seeing the serpentine-like monster in her mind, launching up from the lake and taking flight. “I see some kind of dragon, rising from the lake.” Yunjin’s eyes widened only slightly at the word, but the subtle response made Lissy feel a little better. She needed someone to find the whole idea as crazy as she did.
“Go on,” Yunjin said.
“No. I know it’s stupid. I probably need to get my head checked.” She slumped in the chair, feeling silly for even struggling with the idea that a dragon could be real and living in their lake.
“It is not stupid. What you see means something to you, at the very least,” Yunjin said, then adding, “and to many, at the most. Tell me more about this beast.”
Lissy took a deep breath and went on. “Well, it had the body of a snake, I guess. Only it was massive. Way bigger than any snake I’ve ever seen. And then it had arms and legs like a lizard.” A chill came over her as she spoke of the beast, but she went on. “And it had claws, huge claws. Then its wings came out; they were as wide as the thing was long. Oh, and it looked almost . . . electric. Sparks were shooting from every place where the rain hit its body. It was horrible.”
“And you were alone when you saw this?” Yunjin listened with intent focus.
“That’s the odd thing. I’m usually not. Neil is almost always nearby. But what I see, he never does. At the lake yesterday, it was just calm water to him. But through my eyes, I saw a storm and the monster.” She took a long pause and then asked, “Do you think I’m going insane?”
Yunjin smiled. It was soothing and managed to put Lissy’s mind slightly more at ease. “You are not crazy, Elisabeth. In fact, I believe you.”
Lissy was stunned. Why would anyone believe in that nonsense? She didn’t even know if she believed it herself yet. “Why?”
“I told you how things were for me growing up. But I did not answer when you asked if I believe in monsters. There is a reason I did not answer.” An eerie silence fell between them as Yunjin collected her thoughts and Lissy awaited the rest of her response.
“When I was a child, I feared many things, as most children in my country do. Some nights, my grandmother would tell me stories of ancient beings that resided in the mountain lakes and rivers. In these stories, there were two kinds of beings. The first being was evil. It represented all of the fear we lived with daily. The second being my grandmother called Mireu. It represented the salvation from all that we feared.”
Lissy was engrossed in the narrative, although not fully understanding why. She’d always hated folklore and deemed it a waste of time. But this felt different somehow.
“The Mireu,” Yunjin went on, “is a benevolent creature, with only good in its heart. It does no harm, although it is immensely powerful. The evil beings are of a type called Imugi and they lurk in the darkness, attempting to steal from the Mireu. However, not all Imugi are evil. Many are not and even abide with the Mireu. The evil Imugi wishes to become a Mireu, but will never make a metamorphosis, as it has turned from its purpose and become malevolent.” She paused. “I do not mean to bore you with tales of my childhood.”
Lissy shook her head, “No, please, keep going.” In an odd way, the story was the closest thing she’d heard to an answer since finding Melissa’s body.
Yunjin sipped her tea and started again. “You see, in the tale, the evil Imugi stalks the Mireu but does not approach until it has seen what it desires.”
“What’s it after?”
“The Yeouiju, an orb that the Mireu possesses that is said to bless it with the powers of omnipotence and the ability to create at will. The evil Imugi desires this orb more than anything, as it believes that with it, it will become as powerful as the Mireu.” Yunjin sat back and sipped as if to signify the story’s end.
“What happened to the two beasts? Did they battle over the orb?”
“Well,” Yunjin responded, “I came to understand that the creatures were only intended to represent the fear with which we lived and then the escape from that fear. My grandmother would say that the Mireu is love. As long as there is love, fear cannot remain. But the evil always tries to take that which belongs to love.”
“The Yeouiju?”
“In a way. Again, I believed everything in the story to be solely representative. I came to believe that the Yeouiju represented the Mireu’s greatest interest—us.
“But doesn’t that analogy fall apart? Why would fear search out humanity?”
“Well, if you think of fear as a living being, as it is in the story, then humanity is an obvious target. We attain much of the power the Imugi envies. Although not omnipotent, we have the ability to create, to love, to experience the enjoyment and adoration of the very beings we beget.”
It wasn’t quite clicking for Lissy. “Okay, but if there’s no end to the story, how does the Mireu represent your freedom? The evil Imugi just continues lurking. Right?”
Yunjin smiled softly. “I believe the story of the Mireu and the evil Imugi is constantly being written and rewritten. I have learned much more about fear here than I ever did when I was under its thumb. I learned that it can cripple us with the anticipation of what it might do. I learned that it may speak louder in your ear than any other voice if you focus solely on what it’s saying to you. And I learned that, if you allow it, the fear will crush you.” The last phrase fell from Yunjin’s lips like a judge’s gavel.
“I don’t understand. It doesn’t sound like the Mireu can do anything. Knowing more about fear doesn’t eliminate it.”
Yunjin nodded as if the question was exactly as she’d expected. “The evil Imugi will crush you with its formidable force, unless”—she leaned forward, her eyes narrowing intensely—“you summon the only thing that can eliminate it—the Mireu, love.”
“But why doesn’t the Mireu just kill the Imugi to begin with? Why let it stalk around? Why let it hurt people in the first place?”
“Oh no, you misunderstand me. The Mireu is a peaceful creature who loves humanity. He is our protector and our life source. But this place, this earth, belongs to us. So when we focus on the fear, we lend power to it, giving it authority in our lives. However, when we look beyond the fear, love is always waiting for us to invite it in.”
“Again, evil doesn’t take the blame, we do. We’re at fault. I won’t accept that.” Lissy clenched her jaw, regretting having ever called Yunjin.
“No,” Yunjin said more sternly than Lissy had ever heard her speak. “It is evil that stalks its prey. It is he who deceives and seeks to steal from and destroy humanity. But, as in all things, we must take responsibility for our part. And we cannot escape that.”
“Then how do you end the story? How do you end fear?”
Yunjin took a deep breath before saying, “By refusing to give it what it desires and inviting the Mireu to step in.”
“Is that how you overcame the fear? Inviting the Mireu?” Lissy asked.
“In a sense, I guess so. But as I said, it starts with looking beyond what the Imugi puts in front of you. Fear will always put on a grand display; it’s
up to you to accept or deny it.”
Lissy was spent. She felt no closer to ending all of this than before she’d come. At first the story invigorated her, but in the end, it only served to frustrate her with its over-spiritualized revelries.
After a long silence, Yunjin asked, “I have said something that bothers you?”
Lissy selected her words carefully, not wanting to offend Yunjin. “I think I was just hoping for something more . . . concrete. Less Sunday school and more encyclopedia. But who am I to expect something like that? I’m the girl seeing dragons.”
Yunjin stood without speaking and walked to the bookshelf in the adjoining sitting room.
As she scanned the books she asked, “Elisabeth, did I tell you what types of creatures the Mireu and Imugi are?”
Lissy thought back, replaying to the story in her mind.
“No. I guess not.”
Yunjin found the book she was looking for and began to flip through the pages as she carried it back to the table. “There is more that connects the beast you see and the story my grandmother told me than allegory.” Finding the page she was looking for, she tapped it and said, “Aha!”
She set the book on the table in front of Lissy, and terror lurched in her stomach as she examined it. Although the text wasn’t in English—presumably it was a form of Korean—she knew exactly what she was looking at. The Leviathan.
Her mind reeled. How was this possible? Had she read about this Imugi in the past and simply recreated it in a hallucination? Or had Yunjin been wrong, and the stories were more than representative? Had this Imugi killed David . . . and Mia? If this dragon was a Korean myth, why was it showing up in Mitchum?
Lissy jumped when Yunjin spoke. “Is it similar to what you saw?”
“It is . . . yeah. That is it. I mean, before its wings spread out, that is exactly what I saw.”
“I always assumed the story to be that of fiction. A representation, not a reality. Dragons have been representative of spiritual concepts in the culture of my ancestors for thousands of years.”