Borrowing Life

Chapter 1

On the day of my daughter's one-month birthday party, Justine, with trembling hands, insisted on bestowing a "blessing for a long life" upon the baby. Before I could stop her, she had already breathed heavily onto my baby's face. The baby immediately started crying.

I frowned, quickly taking the baby back into my arms to soothe her. However, all the relatives present criticized me for being ungrateful. Feeling wronged, I vented about the incident online. Among hundreds of comments, one stood out:

"Was the old lady a psychic when she was young?"

I was taken aback by this question. I honestly didn't know. Justine was over ninety years old, still healthy, and preferred living alone in the countryside. I didn't interact with her much. My anger stemmed from her lack of hygiene; after all, the baby had just turned one month old and had a weak immune system. But this user named "Christopher" immediately asked if Justine was a psychic, implying some superstitious nonsense to scare people. It seemed absurd.

Christopher then replied, "The picture you posted was taken at home, right? The balcony is filled with thick black air, heavy with bad energy. Someone must have cast some kind of curse there."

This comment worsened my already bad mood. Before I could type a response, other quick-fingered users had already retorted:

"People nowadays really don't appreciate good intentions. The old lady meant well, wishing for your daughter's longevity, but you misunderstood her."

"Exactly, the old lady might be a bit superstitious, but she meant well. Instead of being grateful, you slander her? Are you going to accuse her of witchcraft next? Ha!"

"I don't think it's that serious. The blogger shouldn't be upset. The old lady is just old and uneducated. At most, she passed some germs or saliva. The baby will be fine, don't worry."

"Haha, all this talk about 'bad energy' and 'curses' is scary. Someone might think I'm reading a fantasy novel."

As I exited the comment section, I glanced at Christopher's profile picture. It was a black-and-white image of an occult symbol. Could he be an occultist?

Curious, I clicked into his profile. There weren't many posts, just some photos of an abbey, videos of creating protective symbols, and a few online shop links. Scrolling further, I found a photo of him in a purple ceremonial robe. He really was an occultist.

But with so many online scammers these days, these things could be photoshopped. Seeing the skeptical comments, Christopher, perhaps feeling embarrassed, replied again:

"Why don't you ask her if she was a psychic? But don't let the old lady know."

I was puzzled. Being a psychic isn't illegal, so why hide it? I asked why.

"The balcony facing south should receive the most good energy, but yours is heavy with bad energy. This is unusual. There must be some kind of curse nearby, and possibly accomplices. Be cautious to avoid alerting them."

Christopher's reply was so bizarre that dozens of comments calling him a scammer quickly appeared. It seemed he was waiting for my answer, as he didn't reply further.

Although I usually didn't believe in such things, I decided to investigate, holding my sleeping baby and heading to the living room.

It was ten o'clock at night. The TV was on, and my in-laws were watching a live broadcast intently. My husband, Brodie, was lounging on the couch, playing with his phone. Justine was nowhere to be seen, likely already asleep due to her age.

I sat next to Leyla, chatting casually, waiting for the right moment to ask, "Mom, what did Justine do when she was younger? It's surprising she knows about the blessing for a long life."

Leyla, still watching TV, replied absentmindedly, "I heard she used to help people who were affected by a curse in the village. She was probably a local healer or a psychic. Ask your dad; he knows better."

I was stunned. "She really was a psychic!"

Darin, thinking I didn't believe it, proudly said, "Of course! Why would we lie? When I was a kid, my mom was famous in our town. People came to her to pick auspicious dates for weddings and funerals. My brothers and I often went with her to the celebratory feasts..."

While Darin reminisced, I quickly typed a reply on my phone: "She really was a psychic! It's true!"

Someone immediately responded, "Blogger, don't be too superstitious. So what if she was a psychic? Psychics can have descendants too."

"But don't you find it scary that he guessed she was a psychic so accurately?"

"Maybe they're just interacting to gain more attention. Nowadays, fake things online seem real. I've been scammed many times. Their ultimate goal is to sell products. Check out Christopher's profile; he has online shop links."

"It's all superstitious nonsense. We've all had basic education. How can you be so easily fooled?"

"But the baby is just one month old. It's better to be cautious. What if there's really a problem? Can you take responsibility?"

Ignoring the debate, Christopher replied, "Using some kind of curse to turn a place filled with good energy into one with bad energy, combined with the old lady's unusual behavior of blowing a blessing for a long life onto your child, is very suspicious."

Christopher's last sentence gave me chills.

"If I'm not mistaken, the old lady is trying to perform a life extension ritual!"

Though I didn't believe in ghosts, the term "life extension ritual" startled me. I tried to calm myself, but anger surged within me. This was absurd. It was my daughter's one-month birthday, and he dared to say such ominous things.

I typed furiously, "Life extension ritual? My daughter is just one month old. How can she be part of a life extension ritual? Watch your harmful words!"

The comment section exploded:

"What? Life extension ritual? Are you kidding? It's 2024, and people still believe this? Scammer!"

"But the baby is the old lady's blood relative. I don't believe she could be so cruel. Even a tiger doesn't eat its cubs! Don't be ridiculous. Besides, the old lady is so old. What life does she need to borrow?"

Others had different opinions:

"But I think it's possible! When I had my baby, my 88-year-old grandparents came to see us. They didn't even enter the room, fearing they'd pass their sickness to the baby. They just looked from afar and left. Justine's behavior is bizarre. It's normal for the blogger to be cautious."

...

As the debate continued, Christopher replied again:

"Many people mistakenly believe that the elderly, having lived long enough, aren't afraid of death. This is a common misconception. No one wants to die, especially those closer to death. Some say, 'How could they harm their own grandchildren?' But how many of you remember your great-grandparents' names? There's little emotional connection between people separated by nearly a century."

"In folklore, there's an evil practice called borrowing life. Practitioners secretly perform a ritual, mixing an infant's saliva and hair with their own birth details and hair, burning it to ashes, and placing it on the infant for forty-nine days to successfully borrow life. The infant will then starve to death within three months, with no discernible cause. Meanwhile, the borrower will appear rejuvenated, as if they've gained decades of life. This is the success of borrowing life."

Though I didn't believe in such superstitions, I couldn't deny that Justine's vitality was unusual for her age. I remembered the first time Brodie introduced me to his family. Justine and Leyla sat together, looking so young that I mistook them for sisters.

Now, thinking back, Justine did seem too young.

"Think about it. Did the old lady give anything to the baby? Like a protective charm?"

Chapter 2

His words left me perplexed. I furrowed my brows, sifting through my memory. The day my child was born, our hospital room was bustling with relatives and friends bearing gifts, but I didn't recall Justine being among them. There was a traditional charm believed to bring long life, given by the child's aunt, so I thought nothing of it.

I answered softly, "No."

Online, netizens began to ridicule:

"Finally caught in a lie! Checked out this 'Christopher's' profile, and it's all just drawing charms and temples. Probably just scamming people online. Haha, busted!"

"Even if there was a Longevity Talisman, so what? I had one when I was little, and I'm perfectly fine now! Total fraud!"

...

"But Leyla did give the child a talisman. She said Justine had someone get it from a temple and specifically instructed us to keep it on the child for protection. Since the baby was so young and I didn't believe in these things, I just tossed it on the bedside table."

Christopher didn't respond in the comments but sent me a private message, asking me to unfold the talisman and take a photo. He seemed to want to avoid the noisy netizens.

Shortly after I sent the photo, Christopher's reply came, and it was shocking.

"This is no talisman; it's a Soul Entrapment Curse."

"Burn it outside immediately!"

My heart pounded.

At this point, I didn't care if he was a real spiritual practitioner or a fake. Everything seemed distant until it involved my child. I couldn't afford to be reckless. I decided to burn it immediately and keep nothing of the sort near my baby in the future.

With resolve, I stuffed the charm and a lighter into my pajama pocket and headed out.

Christopher told me that this Soul Entrapment Curse contained evil spirits and needed to be burned at a busy intersection where negative energy is strong.

The road in front of our community was a bustling six-lane road, fitting his criteria perfectly. It was 10:30 PM, and there were still people out for a stroll, so it felt safe enough. I estimated about ten minutes to get there and back.

As I stepped out of the living room, Leyla's voice called out, "Melany, where are you going with that charm so late?"

I froze, realizing the tassel of the charm was peeking out of my pocket.

Quickly forcing a smile, I needed an excuse:

"It's the talisman you got for the baby. My friend recently got a similar one online and wants to compare it with ours. I'll be right back."

We lived in the same community, so Leyla knew my friend often called me out for evening walks. This lie wouldn't raise suspicion. As I moved towards the door, Leyla already stood up, blocking my way.

She glanced at the visible charm, "You took the wrong one. This isn't the talisman."

She pulled out the tassel to reveal the triangular yellow paper charm. Inspecting it closely, she said, "When I was tidying up your room, I saw the talisman on the bedside table and worried it might get lost, so I placed it under your pillow. This charm isn't it; the talisman should be in Justine's room. Ramona must have been rummaging again. I'll have to scold her when she gets back."

I frowned but said nothing.

Ramona was my six-year-old daughter, always curious and likely to rummage through things.

Leyla added, "Do you know about the Holt family's eldest son? He's been ill recently with no explanation from the hospital. They asked Justine for help, and she said he was scared by something on the road, scattering his soul. She crafted a Soul Entrapment Curse, but it went missing. Turns out it was here! I'll definitely scold that little girl when she gets back from her aunt's!"

Leyla put the charm back in Justine's room and returned to watch TV, her actions appearing perfectly normal.

I confided to Christopher about what had happened, and he replied after a long pause:

"It can't be a coincidence! Be careful. They might be in on it together!"

What!

Leyla and Justine in on it together? To harm their own family? But my child shared their blood. Could they really be so heartless?

My phone buzzed twice. Christopher had sent another message:

"The old woman's birthday shows she died at least fifty years ago. Who is this person in your house?"

Goosebumps rose on my arms, and a chill ran through me.

So, Justine had died in her forties?

Oh my God!

Who was living in my house then? Could she have extended her life using our real great-grandmother's lifespan?

I couldn't bear to think any further. My fingers shook, making it difficult to type coherently, deleting and retyping in chaotic bursts of thought.

As I grappled with this overwhelming information, Brodie appeared behind me, his eyes falling on my phone.

"Honey, what are you looking at? You've been distracted all evening."

I turned off the phone screen, unsure whether to tell him the truth or make an excuse. But he spoke first, "Why is everyone acting so strange today? What happened?"

"What do you mean by strange?"

He glanced at the closed door, then pulled me closer and whispered, "Ever since Justine arrived, Mom and Dad have been acting weird. They seem different. Dad doesn't go fishing as much, and Mom rarely goes to her dance classes. They stay home all the time. Although the baby needs attention, they didn't need to fire the nanny! We're not short on money."

I remembered the nanny with the Virgin Mary necklace, who took great care of the baby but quit due to Leyla's constant pestering.

I didn't dare to think further.

Swallowing hard, I decided to trust Brodie and tell him everything unusual that had happened today.

"Also, several times when I got up at night to use the bathroom, I saw the light on in Justine's room. It was one or two in the morning. Didn't she always say her secret to longevity was going to bed early? What's going on now?"

At that moment, my phone buzzed again. Probably another message from Christopher. I sat back on the bed, leaning against the headboard, listening to Brodie while checking my phone.

Christopher: "'Borrowing life' rituals are extremely complex and can't be performed by one person. They need helpers, and someone must ensure the child stays in the house for 49 days. Everyone around you is suspicious."

The words caught in my throat. I mumbled to Brodie, excusing myself to the bathroom. I needed to contact Christopher directly via Whatsapp, afraid of being overheard, so I put on my Bluetooth earphones.

"Mr. Moss, what should I do with my child?"

Christopher frowned on the screen. Though young, he had a mature and composed demeanor.

"Show me the layout of your house."

It was past 11 PM, and my in-laws had retreated to their bedroom. The living room was empty. I tiptoed and turned on the light, showing him the entire house with my phone. A voice suddenly said, "Stop." My phone was pointing at the balcony plants, which appeared ordinary.

"Those plants are emitting black energy. Look closely; there must be something hidden in them!"

Chapter 3

Leyla had a knack for gardening, and she tended to the plants with great care, making them flourish. I put down my phone and pushed aside the green branches and leaves. Suddenly, I felt a chill on the back of my hand, and something fell with a "thud." I grabbed it reflexively and found it was a palm-sized stone lion.

"A large stone lion