At one o’clock in the morning, I woke up—this was the seventh day in a row.

In my dreams, there was always a pair of hands caressing my body, those chillingly large hands gliding over my slick skin, inch by inch, brushing past my neck and shoulders, lingering over my chest, slowly sliding down to my lower abdomen.

A cold and ambiguously intimate breath brushed past my ear. When those hands touched my private areas, a terrifying tingling spread through my body…

No matter how scared I was, my body couldn’t move; I could only feel this strange fear over and over again in the darkness.

Those hands were extremely provocative, pressing and kneading again and again, lightly then heavily. When I couldn’t help but make a sound, a cool, moist sensation slipped into the corner of my lips, tangling and invading little by little.

In a haze, a deep voice whispered by my ear, “Don’t be afraid, it’ll be over soon.”

The pain was like being slowly cut into, a torture grinding against my tender flesh.

Using blood as lubricant, tearing inch by inch, time and again, the prolonged torment almost made me faint.

Before my consciousness slipped into chaos, I faintly heard a sigh beside my ear.

This was just the beginning, with no end in sight…

My name is Xiao Qiao, Mu Xiao Qiao, the daughter of the Mu family, and—

A sacrifice.

Since that day, I often relive that night’s terror in my dreams, the pain lingering even after I wake up.

My father said it was a blood alliance, an oath made with the blood of a virgin and a ghost from the underworld.

Our family is different from ordinary families; we’re a clan on the fringes of normal society.

In our family, some are scholars, some are fortune tellers, others are forensic doctors, funeral directors, and so on.

And my father, being the eldest son and grandson, naturally inherited the family business—a moderately sized antique shop.

Father would deal with old, ghostly items, acquiring and then reselling them to those in need.

The Mu family, tomb family.

I even suspected my great-grandfather climbed out of a tomb, which dragged our entire family down with this surname.

And I, I am the one who suffered the most.

The year I was born, strange deaths occurred in our family; many inexplicably perished, mostly the promising members of our various family businesses.

Great-grandfather said our family had long been tainted by ghosts, inevitably disrupting the order of the underworld. This was their settling of scores.

On the day I was born, there was thunder and an upset of yin and yang. My mother’s waters broke in the middle of the night. Our home was not far from the county town hospital, but that night’s fierce storm triggered a flash flood, collapsing a centuries-old bridge, so I had to be born at home, left to fate.

Fortunately, my grandmother was experienced. After my cries, my great-grandfather found a blood jade ring on the ancestral hall’s altar.

The ring glowed dark red, like congealed blood, and no one knew where it came from.

Great-grandfather shook his head and sighed, saying nothing.

Later, when I was sixteen, I was placed on a “bed” in the cellar of our ancestral home.

Though called a cellar, everyone in the family knew it was a hollowed-out royal tomb.

The cold stone sarcophagus was my bridal bed.

After that nightmarish “ghost wedding¹,” our home suddenly became peaceful, with no further incidents.

And thus, my role as a sacrifice has continued to this day.

Because of that night’s experience, I’ve been regarded as an outsider in the entire family, as if I were some kind of demon, feared and loathed by everyone. The ring I’ve worn on my chest for eighteen years is said to be the betrothal gift from that ghost who had relations with me.

A ghost marriage is usually between two spirits, and almost everyone thought I would die that night.

Yet, I survived. Although I fell seriously ill, I indeed still have a heartbeat, a body temperature and a shadow.

Afterward, my dad brought me from our old home to live with him and my brother. On the surface, things seemed calm, but nightmares often woke me up at night.

My brother is studying medicine; he always pesters me about what exactly happened that night, unable to imagine making love with a ghost.

Lately, these nightmares have become more intense, waking me each time. Leaving me disoriented in the darkness.

Because of the nightmarish dreams, I have splitting headaches. My days are distracted and yet my nights are filled with endless erotic dreams.

And today, that touch was especially vivid.

This feeling was no longer just in dreams, but as cold and real as that night two years ago.

“Xiao Qiao, my wife…”

He caressed my body over and over, those long fingers knowing exactly where to touch, exploring each sensitive spot.

Those cold hands lingered over my chest and lower abdomen, eventually sliding towards that area that made me tremble, the cold pressure overwhelming, reminding me of the pain and fear of that night.

I felt his hand enter my body, impatiently expanding, shame and fear causing my body to tense up.

This tension didn’t ease the pain. As his cold body leaned in, I trembled with the intensity of the pain.

This awkward union seemed to displease him, a low, cold voice echoing in my ear, “…Are you very afraid of me?”

1. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chinese_ghost_marriage ↩︎