Again the dead.

The air around me suddenly felt heavy. The stench of rotting flesh and dried blood vanished in an instant. In its place spread the scent of rain-soaked earth—the ancient smell that escapes when a long-sealed grave is opened. The dog's low growl rose into a sharp bark. It was staring only at the washing machine. I slowly stepped forward. Through a crack in the lid, something like black smoke began to seep out. That was when I noticed it. The shadows around the machine were changing. The room's light remained exactly the same. But the shadows were no longer obeying its rules. They crawled across the walls. Like something alive. "You're late..." The words seemed to be whispered directly into my ear. I turned around. No one was there. But the dog suddenly ran across the room, barking excitedly. Its tail wagged furiously. The expression on its face seemed to change—from uncertainty to recognition. I had never seen that creature afraid. Nor had I ever seen it love anyone as much as it loved me. But this...? Now there was devotion in its eyes directed toward someone else. Pure affection. Then what was I? The question rose unbidden in my mind. For a moment I looked into the washing machine. The foul, decomposed body I had placed inside only minutes ago was gone. Now there was nothing inside. Only emptiness. Behind me came the sound of dripping water. Tap... Tap... Tap... Slowly I turned around. My dog was calm now, still wagging its tail endlessly. A figure stood in the corner of the room. Black water streamed from its body. Mud and algae from a filthy drain clung to its skin. Its head hung low, hiding its eyes. Yet I knew at once that it was not human. Because its feet did not touch the ground. Without realizing it, I took a step back. The figure slowly raised its head. And a fire spread through my soul. That face... Now I could see it clearly. The deformity had completely healed. My face. My eyes. My own appearance. Yet twisted, as though it had spent years submerged underwater. It smiled. Its lips never moved. But I heard the laughter. It echoed through the entire room. "Are you trying to bury me?" The voice did not enter through my ears. It came from inside my mind. My own voice. "Have you forgotten?" "It wasn't me who died..." "It was you." At that moment, every wall in the room vanished. The house disappeared. The washing machine disappeared. Even my dog vanished. Only the darkness of the new moon remained. I was standing in the middle of a filthy drainage canal. Black water flowed around my feet. A short distance away, a corpse floated upon the surface. Its face was clearly visible. It was my face. Then I understood. I understood whose corpse had been brought for burial that night. That was why the spirits had been afraid. That was why they had abandoned their task halfway through. Burying a dead man is easy. But performing the funeral rites of a soul that does not know it is dead—that is the most difficult task of all. Such souls never accept death. Even the laws meant to bind them do not fully work. The spirits had not feared the corpse. They had feared a situation that would force them to break their own laws. And they had feared my command. I looked once more into the black water of the canal. The eyes of the floating corpse slowly opened. It was me. But not me. Another version of myself, separated from the body and wandering for years. Suddenly memories began returning one by one. The washing machine... The house... The dog... The crowd gathered outside... My sins... The words of my master, who had warned me a hundred times not to walk this path... And now...? None of it was real. It was only a world woven from memories. A prison created after the night of my death. A place where the soul continued the dark rituals it had once practiced. Then, somewhere in the distance, I heard a dog bark. It emerged from the darkness and walked toward me. Now I could see it clearly. It was the same dog that had stayed beside me throughout my life. The dog that had died years ago. It sat quietly beside my feet. Its tail wagged gently. As though it had been waiting. It was not afraid of me. It recognized me. It had waited all these years for me to return. Then, somewhere within the darkness of the new moon, a light appeared. Very far away. Yet unmistakably clear. Looking toward that light, I finally took a step forward. The corpse lying in the canal was now empty. Because the last thing that remained within it had already walked away. Then I heard my own voice again. This time it was not terrifying. It was calm. "No more funeral rites..." "The journey alone is enough." The darkness of the new moon slowly began to fade. But my feet refused to walk toward the light and liberation. A realization had come. There was still work left unfinished. The black dog and I turned away from the light and began walking in the opposite direction. And the old blackened body? It appeared once more within the mud and stagnant water— still without release, destined to remain there for a little while longer.