My sister was assaulted by the Mayor’s intellectually disabled son. Unable to bear the humiliation, she drowned herself in the river. To save face—and make a profit—my parents took the hush money and buried her in a rush. But on the seventh day after her death, her grave was dug up. Her body had been stolen by a neighboring family who had just lost their son, intended for a "Spirit Wedding." My entire family charged over to snatch the body back. The family guarded the coffin, adorned with grotesque wedding symbols, refusing to let go. "I dug up this bride fair and square! She belongs to my son now!" My parents, eyes gleaming with greed, demanded fifty thousand dollars to let them keep my sister’s corpse. What they didn't know was that the thing sleeping in that coffin... wasn't my sister. 1 When my sister Sarah’s body was hauled up from the riverbank, the whole village of Blackwood Creek came to watch. Death wasn’t rare in these parts. What was rare was the state of her body. Sarah looked like she was eight months pregnant. Her belly was swollen tight against her wet clothes. It was unnatural. The town’s unlicensed medic, Old Doc, claimed it was pregnancy. He pointed to the dark line on her stomach. He said she must have been hiding it. But I saw the bruises. I saw the marks on her wrists and ankles, like she’d been chained. "If she drowned," I asked, my voice trembling, "where did those bruises come from?" Old Doc insisted it was drowning. My mother slapped me across the face. "Your sister was a slut! She shamed this family hooking up with men! You want to be just like her?" I covered my stinging mouth, looking down, too scared to speak. The men in the crowd started their whispers, spitting their tobacco and their lies. "Must have been carrying a bastard. Killed herself out of shame." "Yeah, look at her. Always was a tease." "The Mayor's boy is simple-minded; he wouldn't know how to touch a woman like that." I stood there, chest tight with rage. Just a week before she went missing, Sarah had her period. She ruined a pair of jeans. My whole family knew she couldn't be pregnant. But my parents turned a blind eye. No one defended her. They covered my mouth. I knew why. They wanted to use Sarah’s death to extort money. Sure enough, Mom threw herself onto Sarah’s wet corpse, wailing. "My daughter was a pure girl! Who did this to her?! Who got her pregnant?!" Silence. The Mayor, afraid of a scandal, offered money to make it go away. My parents’ attitude flipped instantly. They happily pocketed the blood money, already planning how to use it to buy my little brother a new car or a wife of his own someday. Fearing complications, the Mayor ordered my parents to bury Sarah quickly in a shallow grave in the back woods. That’s when the Stranger passed through. He was a drifter, dressed in dark clothes, claiming to know the occult. He said Sarah didn't die clean. A simple burial wouldn't hold back her rage. He walked over, touched Sarah’s distended belly, and his face turned grim. "There is a Corpse Child inside. A malevolent spirit." "Two lives in one body. You cannot simply bury her. She needs a Ritual of Bones." My mom rolled her eyes. "What kind of nonsense is this? You trying to scam us?" The Stranger sighed. He took a string of black beads from his wrist and placed them on Sarah’s stomach. In a flash, the swelling collapsed. "Do not remove these beads for seven days," he warned. "On the seventh day, you must exhume the coffin. Place part of her bones in a clay jar. The beads only suppress the resentment of the infant spirit." "You must bury the fetal remains in your own yard." "I will return in seven days." Before leaving, the Stranger gave a final, chilling warning: If we didn't follow his instructions, in seven days, Sarah and the thing inside her would return as a Skin-Walker and slaughter the entire village. 2 The seventh day arrived. It was gloomy and overcast. The Stranger returned as promised. My parents thought he was a con artist, but fear of a vengeful ghost kept them compliant. Before dawn, we hiked up the back mountain to dig up the grave. The woods were cold and damp. The trees looked like twisted human figures standing in the mist. It was dead silent. My brother, the golden child, walked leisurely behind my parents. I was the mule, carrying heavy bags of ritual paper money, mud splashing my clothes. The Stranger scattered paper money as we walked, chanting in a language I didn’t understand. Birds flew overhead, their cries sounding like a woman weeping. My brother, cowardly as always, hid in Mom's arms. "Mom, when can we go home?" Mom stroked his forehead gently. "Soon, baby." Then she glared at me. "Lily! Watch your brother!" He stuck his tongue out at me. If Sarah were here, she would have protected me. Just then, a voice whispered behind me. "Tired? Let big sis carry that for you." It wasn't Sarah’s normal voice. It sounded like it was squeezed through gritted teeth, raspy and hollow. I whipped around. Nothing but darkness. Fear made me walk faster. Ten yards from the grave, the Stranger stopped. He lit incense and candles, sticking them into the mud on both sides of the path. Ten candles in total. My mom put her hands together, muttering nervously, "Sarah, don't blame mom and dad. Eat well, dress well, and move on. Protect your brother; he's the only son of our family." My dad grumbled, "Does this guy's voodoo actually work?" Mom shushed him. After the ritual, we walked to the simple mound. Everyone’s eyes went wide. The grave had been dug up. Rain had washed the coffin halfway out. But the terrifying part was... the lid was open. Sarah’s body was gone. 3 My parents turned pale. "Where is she?! Where is Sarah?" "Did... did she walk away?" my brother whimpered. The Stranger looked grave. He peered into the empty coffin and pulled out a red cloth packet. "Your daughter was stolen for a Spirit Binding." He opened the packet. Inside were five old coins and a lock of hair tied with red string. "A ghost marriage," the Stranger said. "Someone wants her soul for their dead son." Mom screamed, "Who the hell stole my daughter's body?! That ungrateful girl, causing trouble even when she's dead!" Dad asked around the village. Turns out, the Miller family in the next valley had lost their son recently. They sneaked up the mountain to steal Sarah for a posthumous wedding. The Stranger did a quick calculation on his fingers and turned white. "If we don't perform the Bone Ritual before midnight, hell is going to break loose." We rushed to the Miller house. They were in the middle of the ceremony. Two red coffins sat in the yard. A rooster and a hen were tied to a table. Suona horns blew a piercing, mournful tune. "Give me back my daughter!" My parents rushed in, stopping them from sealing the coffins. "What are you doing?! This is a wedding!" An old woman with messy gray hair threw herself at my mom. They wrestled on the ground. My mom, strong from years of farm work, pinned the woman down. "You're bullying us! I dug her up myself! They're married now! She belongs to our family, dead or alive!" Mom yanked the woman’s hair. "I spit on that! You want a daughter-in-law, you pay the dowry! This is theft! I don't recognize this marriage!" Seeing my mom’s ferocity, the woman softened. "Fine! Name your price! How much to buy the corpse?" Hearing "price," Mom stopped fighting and looked at Dad. "Fifty thousand. Not a penny less." 4 I couldn't believe it. Sarah couldn't even find peace in death. The woman’s eyes bulged. "Fifty thousand?! I could get a living girl for that!" "Then go get one! Otherwise, we take the coffin!" They haggled over my sister like she was a side of beef. Eventually, they pulled the red cloth off the coffin to inspect the "goods." I saw Sarah. She had been dead for days, yet her face was rosy and full. She wore a red dress and a flower in her hair. Cheap makeup couldn't hide her beauty. The beads were gone from her stomach. Suddenly, I met a cold gaze. The corpse in the coffin turned its head. It opened its eyes. The sockets were empty of eyeballs, filled instead with writhing leeches. Her lips pulled back in a stiff, terrifying grin. "Dad! Sarah opened her eyes!" I screamed, hiding behind him. "Stop talking nonsense!" Dad shoved me away. Mom was still negotiating. To them, Sarah was just an object to squeeze value from. "Wait!" The woman grabbed Mom’s arm. "He was my only son. Let's compromise." "Thirty. Final offer." "Fine! Fifteen now, fifteen tomorrow after the burial!" Mom took the cash, smiling greedily. "Deal." The Stranger shook his head helplessly. "I guess I can only respect the fate of others. I cannot save those who wish to die." "The Infant Corpse is born. The Skin-Walker awakes. Your village is doomed."
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