True TAIWAN Horror story

The deity’s response was straightforward: “Ask that male spirit what he wants.”

Following the instruction, my psychic friend spoke to the entity. The frantic banging on the iron gate slowed, and a conversation began.

Their exchange was lengthy, but I won’t recount every word here—it’d drag on too long. I’ll stick to the essentials.

Through the dialogue, my friend pieced together the spirit’s identity. He was a death row inmate from mainland China, recently executed for robbery. After his death, corrupt officials had sold his kidney to a black-market hospital, and it ended up in the landlady’s body.

“But what does this have to do with me?” my friend asked, baffled.

The spirit’s voice dripped with venom. He didn’t want “those bastards” to get off easy. He explained that he wasn’t inherently evil—just a poor man who, with a few friends, turned to robbery to give his wife and kids a better life. He accepted his execution as fair punishment for his crime. But what gnawed at him was people like the landlady—rich, ruthless types who could snatch his kidney with their dirty money and live happily ever after.

“No way!” he roared, fury shaking the dreamscape.

Still confused, my friend pressed, “But why come to me?”

The spirit’s answer was chilling. He knew the landlady would eventually turn to my friend and their deity for help. He’d heard of their power and came to issue a warning: “Stay out of it. No matter what happens, don’t interfere!”

With the spirit’s intent clear, my friend turned to the deity for guidance. The response was simple: “Agree to his demand. Tell him we won’t meddle.”

My friend was stunned. He’d seen the deity handle far nastier spirits with ease, often in jest. Their guiding principle was always to prioritize human welfare—when push came to shove, they’d side with the living over the dead. Never once had they favored the spirit world in a conflict like this. My friend assumed they’d banish this spirit to protect the landlady.

This swift surrender was unprecedented.

With no other option, my friend relented. “Fine,” he told the spirit. “I won’t get involved.”

The spirit departed, but not before leaving a lasting impression. There was no gratitude, no relief—just a venomous glare from his one remaining eye. Even as he faded into the distance, he kept turning back, his gaze brimming with resentment.

When the dream ended, my friend woke with every detail etched in memory. He had a sinking feeling about what was coming.

Sure enough, a few days later, the landlady’s family called in a panic. She’d been rushed to the ICU—her new kidney had triggered a sudden, severe infection. They begged for a fix, but my friend could only refuse, helpless. She survived, but both transplanted kidneys failed and had to be removed, leaving her back where she started.

It was then my friend grasped why the deity had warned her against the China trip. Later, the deity explained their rare decision to stand down. The spirit’s grudge was immense, fueled by a power rare in the spirit world—a “command flag,” a kind of spiritual authority. Confronting him would’ve been a nightmare.

“What if we’d fought him head-on?” my friend asked. “Taken him out?”

The deity was blunt. “You’d be the first casualty. With your abilities, a resentful spirit that strong could crush you easily.” Then, with stark honesty: “If that ‘Kidney Ghost’ came for you, I couldn’t save you.”

My friend was floored. “But don’t spirits lack physical power? Can’t they only harm us mentally?”

A bit of context: this happened early in my friend’s career, when he was still green. His most dangerous encounters came in those rookie years—back when he’d barrel into the spirit world without much caution. Experience eventually tempered his recklessness, and the close calls dwindled.

He says this was the first time he truly understood that “demons” exist. The deity confirmed it: the Kidney Ghost teetered on the edge of becoming a “demon”—a force even they hesitated to challenge.

The Underground Order of the Spirit World

We’ve likened the spirit world to a “black society” before—a shadowy underworld. If that term feels too negative, call it an “underground order.” It mirrors how human society has its own hidden hierarchies. We’ve hashed this out in past posts—check my archives if you’re curious.

Previously, I’d argued that spirits lack tangible power, relying on material bodies to affect the living. That holds for ordinary spirits. But just as human underworlds range from street punks to sprawling cartels, the spirit world has its own tiers. Most people never brush against the heavy hitters.

Think of it: in Taiwan, some rural areas have underground networks that defy police and law. In Italy, the Mafia can sway nations, even stretching to the U.S. In Colombia, drug lords once warped global finance. These forces exist, but unless you’re tangled up with them, you’ll likely never cross paths.

The spirit world has its own titans—entities so potent that ordinary folks rarely encounter them in a lifetime. My friend’s deity calls these untouchable beings “demons.”

---

Demons, Ghosts, and the Strange Tribes of Earth

We often talk about four odd categories—demons, spirits, ghosts, and monsters. They overlap but differ. So far, our “drifting” tales on this board have focused on ghosts—the most spirit-like of the bunch, coexisting with humans longest. While demons, spirits, and monsters have faded in the modern age, ghosts thrive alongside us, making them the stars of our ghost stories.

Beyond these four, Earth teems with other strange tribes—mountain gods, goblins, trickster spirits, and shadowy fiends. As humanity’s footprint grows, their habitats shrink, but in the planet’s wild corners, they endure. Don’t dismiss them as primitive fantasies. I love Confucius’ line: “I don’t speak of strange forces or chaotic gods.” He didn’t deny their existence—just urged us not to waste time chasing them. It’s not disbelief; it’s restraint.

Are demons real? Per my friend, yes. But the takeaway isn’t curiosity—it’s caution. Stay far away. History’s littered with tales of those who tangled with demons and never returned. Every era warns against pacts with the devil, yet their allure persists, birthing regret-filled legends anew.