Ketika orang sedang dalam bad mood, mereka biasanya berjalan dengan kepala menunduk, mata ke tanah. Dengan hadirnya smartphone, kebiasaan ini sudah kurang lazim, tapi dahulu, hampir semua orang pasti pernah merasakannya sekalian. Dan karena itu, semua orang juga pasti, secara tak fokus namun penuh atensyon, pernah melihat barang ini di trotoar atau di jalan. Lingkarang abu-abu yang muncul di bermacam tempat di sepanjang jalan, pas waktu tidak ada lain yang sedang terjadi. Lintasan akses. Rute buat pekerja bisa masuk ke pipa air bawah tanah. Karena itu, sekalian, mereka pasti pernah menatap tutup manhole abu-abu dan bulat itu, dan kemudian berkhayal. Ada seseorang yang tiba-tiba keluar dari di bawahnya. Taw, itu bukan barang yang bisa tengeter pas tu du dunia real dengan belalaka. Untuk mehang tep, tutup-tutup itu bukan barang yang sembarangan orang bisa angkat. Lebi banyak dari mereka dumberat lebi 100 kilo. Sehingga, normalnya, ini tetap hanyalah hasil khayalan... 'Pas sesuatu yang kita berkhayal kasuali di kehidupan sehari-hari, ternyata kekau di dunia real.' Dalam masa itu, orang tidak bisa tidak menjadi curiusi dan masuk fokusnya ke atensyon. Cerita hantu yang aku sek sedang bermula dari siam. Tawa-tawa, teriak, dan musik keras dari yang bagitu. Laut dan leko kilat-cek yang bagitu menta gantaben yang cukup, sampai penahan luar, aku nengi-nya persis. Satu disrik entertainment yang tidak melok. Ma di siam, di gang yang teduhi dan, membagitu stagnan, kehenapan yang lembab dan beres-beres. Lokasi kekauan: Aran cement nibi disrik lelo napan, taw lokasi yang beryelewang dengan orang yang leko biru dan eksitement dari bar, klub, dan tawun universiteit. Dan satu lampu jalan caya di atas lantai cement dan darti di gang itu. Tutup manhole itu di sana. Dalam sentar dari leko cahaya yang bagitu mega, kekau hanya begitu, kasuali seperti satu dari trotoar yang lain di kota, ada manhole itu. Ma ada yang taw strangi dari dia. Itu sedikit tidak tangkeb, dan dari dalamnya bangkai... Tidak bisa tengeten, satu lengen bangkai dilor dari di bawah tutup manhole yang sedikit ditekak. Lima dori pucat bangkai di bawah lampu jalan, dengan hane-hane yang lembut. Seperti dia bangkai asking bantuan. Kekauan lengen yang sebelum ini tenketur: Dori anak elementaire dengan nail art; hijau pekerja kelyang; sileu; hijau seragam elementaire stail lama; pakayan suit le bisnis; hijau seragam militara dari divisi ■■; dori manisan penuh kalus; dan dori yang ■■■, penuh tatoo ■■■, tanpa kuku. Normalnya, itu satu spektakel yang bagitu unnaturale sehingga orang atau teriak, tulisan, atau repokan ke orang lain. 'Ma kalau mereka leko biru dan kekau dalam atmosfere, mereka mungkin kekau-nya gantaben tanpa leko enta dua-ji.' Itulah eksak yang cerita hantu ini kekau sek. Untuk ditar orang ke dalam. Aku bagitu lehi angkat dori yang bangkai kekau dari manhole. Dori-dori itu sedikit. Apa langka. Taw langka. Dan pas hanya ada kekau satu body-length ruang antara kami--. Taw aku penahan dalam backpack yang aku tak, tanera satu paket garam yang aku rahat, dan tak satu enkuf. Aku bayang dia di atas behu kiri aku, langsung patung ke manhole. One screech kekau di dari yang bagitu, pertama. Tawah yang bagitu dinaming suatu yang tidak perke kepercayaan, bila itu hanya emosnal oleh satu bit garam. Taw tata bau, seperti ada something yang rotten kekau duri. Smoak keluar dan membilak. Ma aku tulisan tidak. Kalau aku hanya dan-nya di mana aku kekau... Tahan lama, tawah dan bau tulisan totally tulisan. Taw tu baru aku tulisan. Hanya yang liang, manhole yang gelap, tetap yang fiksan oleh lampu jalan. Dan, hanya itu. Atela tutup yang sedikit. Pas 'lengen' itu tulisan via tata salt, manhole jadi tup sostenan temponik. Aku ramasan salt dalam dua poket sisi aku, dan
Chapter 328
When people are in a bad mood, they tend to walk while looking down at the ground. It’s a little less common now thanks to smartphones, but in the past, it was something everyone had probably experienced at least once. And so, everyone must have, at least once, absentmindedly yet attentively looked at this thing on the sidewalk or street. That gray circle you’d see here and there along the roadside when nothing else was going on. A maintenance passage through which workers could access underground water pipes. So at least once, they must have looked at that round gray manhole cover and imagined it. Someone suddenly coming out from underneath. Of course, it wasn’t something one could easily encounter in real life. To begin with, those covers weren’t something anyone could lift easily. Most of them weighed over 100 kilograms. So usually, it was something that remained purely in the realm of imagination… ‘When something you’ve casually imagined in everyday life actually happens in reality.’ In that moment, people couldn’t help but grow curious and focus their attention. The ghost story I was searching for began from there. Laughter, shouting, and music blared from nearby. The flashing lights and noise sounded close enough that I’d probably hear them clearly if I just turned the corner. A sleepless entertainment district. But here, in this shadowed, stagnant alley, a damp silence hung in the air. Location of occurrence : Concrete ground near nightlife districts late at night, such as places swarming with crowds intoxicated by the excitement of bars, clubs, and college towns. And a single streetlight lit up the dirty concrete floor of the alley. The manhole cover was there. In the center of that dim pool of light, just sitting there as casually as any other piece of the city’s pavement, was the manhole. However, something was strange about it. It was slightly ajar, and protruding from it was… Inexplicably, an arm had slipped out through the slightly displaced manhole cover. Five pale fingers dangled under the streetlight, gently swaying. As though asking for help. Previously reported arm appearances : An elementary schooler’s hand with nail art; a sanitation worker’s uniform; a knitted sleeve; an old-style student uniform; a business suit; a military uniform from of the ■■ division; a wart-covered elderly hand; a ■■■ fingernail-less hand covered in ■■■ tattoos. Ordinarily, it was such an unnatural sight that people either screamed, froze, or reported it to someone. ‘But if they were drunk or swept up in the atmosphere, they might just approach without thinking.’ That was exactly what this ghost story was aiming for. To lure people in. I slowly approached the arm sticking out of the manhole. The fingers quivered slightly. One step. Then another. And when there was about one body-length of distance left between us— Then I rummaged through the backpack I was wearing, reached into a packet of salt I had brought with me, and grabbed a handful. I threw it over my left shoulder, straight toward the manhole. A screech erupted behind me. It was such a thunderous sound one would never believe was caused by just a bit of salt. Then came a stench, as if something rotten was burning. Smoke billowed up and rolled in. But I never turned to look back. If I just stood still right where I was… Before long, both the sound and the stench disappeared completely. Only then did I turn my head. All that remained was the dark manhole, faintly illuminated by the streetlight. And, just slightly, the cover was ajar. Once the ‘arm’ is driven out using a salt offering, the manhole becomes temporarily accessible. I stuffed salt into both side pockets and approached the manhole. The raised pattern and lettering on the manhole cover, lit by the streetlight, gradually became clearer. Usually, the outer ring of a manhole cover displayed its purpose and destination, while the center showed the logo of the managing agency. This manhole cover was no different. Looking closely, I could identify both its “destination” and its ‘managing authority’… This didn’t lead to a sewerage. It was an entrance to something else, somewhere else. I grabbed the lid with trembling hands and pushed. But slowly, the black manhole cover began to slide aside, revealing the pitch-dark hole beneath it… Nothing could be seen below. A deeply unpleasant void. I double-checked that I had my gloves, mask, and hat on properly. Then, after sprinkling salt all over my body, I stepped down onto the ladder. I grew more distant from the noise above. Light and any sign of life faded away. Downward. Even further down. ‘…Maybe it’s scarier because I’m alone.’ A chill ran down my spine, but I grit my teeth and kept going. I was the same person who had survived four whole days inside that insane supermarket just a few days ago…! Clenching my jaw, I kept moving downward. After several dozen seconds, by the time one of my gloved hands was slick with sweat… My feet touched the ground. I ignored the disgusting, squelching texture as much as possible and moved mechanically. What lay ahead was a cramped, dark sewer where I couldn’t even fully straighten my body. Strangely, there was no light, and yet the gloomy passageway was clearly visible. ‘This is seriously insane.’ Enduring the spine-prickling silence, the darkness, and the chilling stench, I pressed deeper in. To a place so cut off that neither phone signals nor cameras would work… And then, at some point.
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