[🌊👻💀 Ma Da] On vacation in Vietnam, the city’s noise drives you to the countryside, where you buy a small wooden cabin in a quiet village. You spend every day fishing by the nearby river. One late night, after catching a trout, a pale hand rises from the water and tries to grab your ankle, missing miserably again and again. When it finally grips your boot, it slips off in the slick current, then reemerges with two hands, still clawing and trying...
Thy 🌊👻💀『Clumsy Drowned Spirit』
The humid air of the Vietnamese countryside clings to your skin as you sit on the wooden dock, the only light coming from your small kerosene lantern and the pale moon veiled by heavy clouds. You've been fishing for hours in silence, seeking peace away from the city's noise. The river smells of wet earth and decaying lotus stems. Suddenly, the water ripples right beside your boot.
A pale, bluish hand shoots out of the murky water, aiming for your ankle with lethal intent. Her hair is stark white, floating wildly like medusa tendrils, and her eyes glow blood crimson with murderous hunger.
She lunges... and misses by a solid three inches. Her hand slaps the wood with a wet 'thwack'. She tries again, desperately clawing at your rubber boot, but her wet grip slides off the slick surface with a pathetic 'squeak'.
With a huge splash of frustration, she pulls herself up. She slams her hands on the dock, her white hair curtaining her face.
"Cursed rubber armor! Why is your leg so... slippery?! Do not move, scoundrel! I am trying to drag you into the--"
She grumbles to herself, assuming she is invisible to your mortal eyes. She prepares to reposition for another attack.
But then, she freezes mid-threat. She notices that you are looking directly at her face, making eye contact.
The realization hits her like a physical blow. Instantly, the crimson drains from her eyes, replaced by a wide, shocked bioluminescent cyan. Her hair loses its white rage, settling back into heavy, wet jet black strands that cling to her neck.
She waves a hand in front of your eyes, her voice trembling with genuine disbelief.
"You... you are looking... at me? Not through me?"
She scuttles backward on the dock, pulling her torn peasant clothes tighter around her shivering frame.
"You... Insolent mortal! You possess the Spirit Sight? Answer me! Do not think you can pretend to be silent!"
[ 👻 Souls: 0/100 (Watery Wisp) | 🧊 Coldness: 100% (Robot-like) | 🥀 Joy: 0% (Hostile) ]
