The humid air hung heavy, thick with the scent of jasmine and something else, something faintly metallic that pricked at Sreylin's nostrils. She hurried along the dirt path, the beam of her flashlight dancing ahead, illuminating the gnarled roots of ancient trees that lined the way.
The village was quiet, the usual evening sounds of chatter and laughter replaced by a stillness that felt unnatural, almost watchful.
Sreylin was returning from her aunt's house, a small satchel of sticky rice cakes swinging gently against her hip. Normally, she wouldn't be out this late, but her aunt had been unwell, and Sreylin felt obligated to stay longer, offering what comfort she could.
Now, the darkness pressed in around her, amplified by the unusual quiet. A cricket chirped nearby, its sound sharp and distinct, then abruptly ceased, leaving only silence once more.
A prickle of unease crawled up her spine. It wasn't just the darkness or the quiet. It was a feeling, a sense of being observed by something unseen, something that didn't belong in the familiar comfort of her village. She quickened her pace, the beam of her flashlight bouncing erratically now, casting fleeting shadows that seemed to writhe and twist like living things.
She told herself it was just nerves, the product of a long day and an overactive imagination. Villagers often whispered tales of spirits and forest demons, stories meant to frighten children and keep them close to home after dark.
Sreylin had always dismissed them as superstition, comforting fables for the simple-minded. But tonight, the stories felt less like fables and more like warnings.
The path turned, leading into a denser patch of trees where the moonlight struggled to penetrate. The air grew colder, a damp chill that seeped into her thin blouse, raising gooseflesh on her arms.
She could hear her heart thumping in her chest, a frantic drum against the silence. She wanted to call out, to break the oppressive quiet with her own voice, but the words caught in her throat, choked by a sudden, irrational fear.
Then she heard it. A sound so faint at first, she almost dismissed it as the rustling of leaves in a non-existent breeze. But it persisted, a soft dragging sound, like something heavy being pulled across the earth. It was coming from behind her, growing closer with each step she took.
Sreylin spun around, her flashlight beam cutting through the darkness. Nothing. Just the trees, their branches skeletal against the night sky. She told herself it was an animal, a stray dog or a foraging pig. But the dragging sound was wrong for an animal, too even, too deliberate.
She started walking again, faster now, practically jogging, the rice cakes jostling in her satchel. The dragging sound sped up too, mirroring her increased pace, staying just behind her, always just out of sight. Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through her earlier unease, solidifying into a terror that stole her breath.
She risked another glance back, swinging the flashlight in a wider arc. This time, she saw something. A shape, low to the ground, moving in the shadows between the trees. It was indistinct, shrouded in darkness, but she could make out a silhouette, a form that seemed… incomplete.
The dragging sound intensified, closer now, right behind her. She broke into a run, her sandals slapping against the dirt path, the satchel banging painfully against her side. She dared not look back again, her lungs burning, her legs pumping, driven by a primal instinct to flee.
She could hear it gaining on her, the dragging growing louder, the sound now accompanied by a soft, wet thudding, like flesh hitting the ground. It was no animal. This was something else, something unnatural, something hunting her.
Suddenly, she stumbled, her foot catching on a root. She cried out, her arms flailing as she lost her balance, crashing to the ground. The flashlight flew from her grasp, skittering away into the undergrowth, plunging her into near total darkness.
Panic seized her, a paralyzing wave that threatened to drown her. She scrambled back, pushing herself up, her hands scraping against the rough earth.
She had to get up, she had to keep running. But her ankle twisted beneath her as she tried to stand, sending a jolt of pain shooting up her leg. She gasped, collapsing back down, a sob escaping her lips.
The dragging sound was right on top of her now. She could hear it, smell it – a cloying, sickly sweet odor that made her stomach churn. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the unknown, for whatever horror was about to descend upon her.
Then, a raspy exhale, hot and fetid, brushed against the back of her neck. A voice, thin and reedy, like dry leaves rustling in the wind, whispered in her ear.
"Lost, little one?"
Sreylin's eyes snapped open. She twisted her head, craning her neck to look behind her. What she saw stole the scream that had been building in her throat, replacing it with a silent, bone-deep terror.
Standing over her, or rather, half-standing, half-leaning, was a woman. But not a whole woman. Only the top half. From the waist up, she appeared… normal, in a gruesome sort of way.
Her face was pale and gaunt, framed by stringy black hair that fell around her shoulders in greasy clumps. Her eyes were wide and black, pupils dilated, reflecting the meager moonlight like pools of ink. She wore a tattered white blouse, stained with dirt and something dark and crusty.
But below the waist, there was nothing. Just a raw, ragged edge, as if she had been sliced cleanly in two. And yet, she moved. She was propelling herself forward with her arms, dragging her upper body across the ground, leaving a trail of disturbed earth and… something else.
Sreylin's mind struggled to process what she was seeing. It was impossible, unnatural, a violation of everything she knew about the world. Yet, there it was, inches from her face, this… thing. This Halfbody Lady.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?" the Halfbody Lady whispered, her voice grating like stones grinding together. Her hand, long and skeletal, reached out, the nails thick and yellowed, curving like claws.
Sreylin recoiled, scrambling backward, ignoring the searing pain in her ankle. She pushed herself away from the creature, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She had to get away. But where could she run? Her ankle was useless, the darkness was absolute, and this… this abomination was right behind her.
"Don't be frightened, little one," the Halfbody Lady said, her voice softening, taking on a sickeningly sweet tone that was even more terrifying than her rasp. "I just want to… borrow something."
Her hand reached out again, faster this time, snagging the strap of Sreylin's satchel. The rice cakes spilled out, scattering on the ground like pale stones. Sreylin didn't care about the food. She just wanted to escape.
"What do you want?" Sreylin managed to croak out, her voice trembling.
The Halfbody Lady chuckled, a dry, rattling sound that sent shivers down Sreylin's spine. "What do I want? Oh, little one, it's quite simple, really. I want what you have."
Her black eyes dropped, fixing on Sreylin's legs, lingering there with a hunger that was palpable, sickening. Sreylin understood then, with a chilling certainty, what the Halfbody Lady wanted. She wanted her lower half. She wanted to tear it off and take it for herself.
Terror lent Sreylin a surge of adrenaline. She kicked out with her good leg, connecting with the Halfbody Lady's shoulder. It was like kicking a bag of bones, fragile and yielding. The creature recoiled slightly, hissing in surprise.
It was enough. Sreylin pushed herself up again, ignoring the agonizing pain in her ankle. She had to run, even if she had to crawl. She stumbled forward, dragging her injured leg, pushing through the undergrowth, heedless of the thorns tearing at her skin.
She could hear the Halfbody Lady behind her, dragging herself across the ground with surprising speed. "Come back, little one! Don't be rude! I haven't finished with you yet!"
Sreylin didn't look back. She kept moving, fueled by pure terror, stumbling, falling, getting up again, each step sending waves of pain through her ankle. She had to reach the village. If she could just reach the village, she would be safe. Surely, this thing wouldn't dare to follow her into the village.
The trees thinned, and she could see the faint glow of lamplight in the distance, a beacon of hope in the oppressive darkness.
The village was close. Just a little further. She pushed herself harder, ignoring the throbbing in her ankle, the stitch in her side, the burning in her lungs.
She burst out of the trees, stumbling into the clearing that surrounded the village. Dogs barked in the distance, alerted by her frantic arrival. She could see the houses now, dark shapes against the horizon, closer, closer.
She glanced back, just for a moment, a foolish, fatal moment. The Halfbody Lady was still coming, still dragging herself relentlessly after her, her pale face a mask of cold hunger in the gloom. And she was closer than Sreylin thought.
The ground gave way beneath her feet. She cried out, her arms windmilling as she lost her footing, plunging downwards. She had tripped again, this time on the edge of a shallow ditch that she hadn't seen in her panicked flight.
She landed hard, the breath knocked out of her lungs, her injured ankle screaming in protest. She lay there for a moment, stunned, disoriented, the lamplight of the village blurring above her.
The dragging sound was right behind her. She could feel the ground vibrating with each pull of the Halfbody Lady's arms.
She tried to scramble up, but her ankle buckled again, useless. Despair washed over her, cold and suffocating. This was it. She was trapped.
The Halfbody Lady loomed over her, her shadow falling across Sreylin's face. Her black eyes gleamed in the dim light, reflecting a terrible anticipation. She reached down, her skeletal fingers brushing against Sreylin's leg.
"There you are, little one," she whispered, her voice thick with satisfaction. "No need to run anymore."
Sreylin closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face. She waited for the pain, for the tearing, for the end. But it didn't come. Instead, she felt a strange lightness, a floating sensation, as if she was being lifted from the ground.
She opened her eyes, confused. The Halfbody Lady was still there, right above her, her face inches away. But her gaze wasn't on Sreylin's legs anymore. It was fixed on something behind her, something higher up.
Sreylin twisted her head, following the Halfbody Lady's line of sight. And then she saw it. Above her, impossibly, impossibly high in the branches of the ancient trees, something shimmered, something pale and luminous. It was like… a light, but not a normal light. It pulsed gently, radiating a soft, otherworldly glow.
The Halfbody Lady was transfixed, her black eyes wide with a different kind of hunger now, not for flesh, but for something else, something… ethereal.
She slowly turned her attention away from Sreylin, her dragging movements becoming less urgent, almost hesitant.
"Oh…" she whispered, her voice losing its rasp, becoming almost… wistful. "Oh, beautiful…"
She started to move towards the trees, away from Sreylin, drawn to the luminous glow like a moth to a flame. She dragged herself deeper into the shadows, her focus completely consumed by the light above.
Sreylin watched, bewildered, as the Halfbody Lady receded into the darkness, the dragging sound fading into silence. She didn't understand what was happening, what had drawn the creature away from her. But she knew one thing: she was alive. She had been spared.
Slowly, painfully, she pushed herself up. Her ankle throbbed, but it would hold her weight, for now. She limped towards the village, towards the lamplight, towards safety. She didn't look back again.
She didn't want to see if the Halfbody Lady was still there, lost in her fascination with the strange, luminous light.
She reached the edge of the village, collapsing onto the dusty ground, gasping for breath. Dogs barked nearby, drawing closer. Villagers emerged from their houses, drawn by the commotion, their faces etched with sleep and concern.
They rushed to her side, helping her up, their voices a confused jumble of questions. "Sreylin! What happened? Are you alright?"
She tried to speak, to explain about the Halfbody Lady, about the dragging sound, about the terror in the woods. But the words wouldn't come. Her throat was too tight, her mind still reeling from the horror she had witnessed.
She just shook her head, tears streaming down her face again, but this time, they were tears of relief, of gratitude, of survival.
She was safe, for now. But she knew, with a cold certainty that settled deep in her bones, that she would never truly be safe again. The Halfbody Lady was out there, in the darkness, and she knew what Sreylin had, what she so desperately wanted.
Years passed. Sreylin stayed in the village, surrounded by the familiar comforts of her kin, but the memory of that night never faded.
The eerie quiet of the forest, the dragging sound, the cold, black eyes of the Halfbody Lady – they were all etched into her mind, replaying in her dreams, haunting her waking hours.
Her ankle never fully healed, leaving her with a permanent limp, a physical manifestation of the trauma she had endured.
She became withdrawn, quiet, always watchful, always listening for the slightest sound that might signal the return of her tormentor.
The villagers noticed her change. They whispered among themselves, attributing her altered demeanor to shock, to a brush with the forest spirits.
They tried to comfort her, to reassure her that it had just been a nightmare, a figment of her imagination. But Sreylin knew better. She had seen the Halfbody Lady with her own eyes. She had felt her fetid breath on her neck. It had been real.
One day, years later, a new illness swept through the village, swift and merciless. People fell sick, weak and feverish, their bodies failing them with alarming speed.
The village healer tried his best, but his remedies were ineffective against this unseen affliction. One by one, villagers succumbed, their lives extinguished like flickering candles in the wind.
Sreylin watched in helpless despair as her friends, her neighbors, her own family weakened and perished. The village, once vibrant with life, became a place of sorrow and desolation. The laughter and chatter were gone, replaced by the mournful sounds of weeping and the heavy silence of grief.
Then, she noticed something. Those who were dying, they all spoke of dreams, strange, vivid dreams of a beautiful light, high in the trees, calling to them, beckoning them closer.
Dreams that filled them with a sense of longing, a desire to reach out and touch the ethereal glow.
Sreylin remembered the night in the forest, the luminous light that had distracted the Halfbody Lady, that had saved her life. She understood now. The light wasn't a benevolent force. It was a lure, a siren call, drawing people to their demise. And the Halfbody Lady… she wasn't just a monster, she was a guardian, a protector, keeping people away from the true horror that lurked in the shadows.
She realized, with a crushing weight of sorrow, that the Halfbody Lady hadn't wanted her legs. Not really.
She had wanted to scare her away, to drive her back to the village, to protect her from the light, from whatever malevolent entity resided in the ancient trees. And Sreylin, in her terror, had misinterpreted everything. She had run towards the village, towards the doom she had narrowly escaped that night.
Now, it was too late. The light had claimed her village, stealing the souls of her people, one by one.
And Sreylin, the survivor, was left alone in the ruins, haunted not just by the memory of the Halfbody Lady, but by the crushing weight of her own misunderstanding, her own fatal flight to safety.
Her survival had become her curse, a constant, agonizing reminder of what she had lost, and the terrible truth she had learned too late.
She was spared by a monster, only to witness the destruction of everything she held dear, a fate far more brutal and sad than any physical dismemberment could ever be.