Back when I went to the countryside to teach, I was just twenty.

One day, a snake slithered right into the classroom. I didn’t even hesitate—I grabbed a hoe and smashed it, all to keep the kids safe.

But that night, something freaky happened. Half-asleep, I felt this glowing python crawl into my bed.

I was terrified. My mouth wouldn’t even work—I couldn’t scream, couldn’t move.

It stayed the whole damn night, writhing all over me. At dawn, it finally slithered away. I was sore all over. When I pulled back the blanket, saw that patch of red on the sheets... my brain just froze.

Seriously, how messed up is that? My first time—gone to a freaking python. If people found out, how could I ever face anyone again?

Frustrated and panicking, I held my aching lower half with one hand and dialed my best friend Julie Anderson with the other.

I told her everything—half dream, half nightmare—and through her groggy voice she muttered, “You kidding me? It’s your second day out there and you’re already thinking about guys? Go back to sleep. And please, mountain men aren’t your type. Solve it yourself. Worst case, call me later and I’ll risk it all to get you a toy.”

Ugh, if she’d been in front of me, I’d have smacked her for that.

She was the only one I dared tell—so much for understanding. All I got was a roast.

Anyway, it was time to get up, but my whole body ached and I was burning up. A quick touch to my forehead confirmed I had a fever.

Had no choice but to ask Mr. Mitchell, the school’s headmaster, for leave. He was super concerned and quickly called the old village doctor to check on me.

The old doctor came shortly after. Walked into my room, asked me to stretch out my wrist to take my pulse.

But then, his expression turned weird—face went pale like he’d seen death. He looked at me like I had the plague, yanked Mr. Mitchell aside, and basically bolted out the door with him.

At first I thought they were out getting medicine. But nope—ten minutes later, Mr. Mitchell came back with some guy dressed in a weird robe, probably in his fifties. He carried this strange bell-like thing that jingled whenever he moved.

“Hannah Dawson, did you have some strange dream last night?” he asked while swinging that trinket in front of my face.

Who the hell was he, and how did he know? “…Yeah,” I replied.

He tapped that odd object against my forehead—thing bounced back instantly and hit the ground with a thud.

“Mr. Mitchell, you better find someone else. This kind of evil—way outta my league,” he muttered, grabbing his bell and rushing out like his life depended on it.

I’d been possessed? No way. Since getting here, I’d barely been anywhere beyond this house and the classroom.

Mr. Mitchell stood at my door shaking, “Hannah, let me make you something for the fever first. Just stay still.”

He came back with a bowl of herbal soup and some porridge. “Drink the medicine, then have some porridge,” he said.

The moment I drank it, I actually felt better, like magic.

By afternoon, I was fully okay, so I figured no point staying home.

As I stepped outside, I could hear someone sobbing faintly—a kind of cry that gave me goosebumps.

Was someone in the village dead?

Walking up to school, I spotted Mr. Mitchell holding candles and incense, headed out. When he saw me, his face changed completely.

He kept his distance and shouted, “Wait for me in the office.”Two male teachers in their fifties were sitting in the office. As soon as they saw me walk in, they shot up, said nothing, and bolted out the door.

I mean, come on, I’m the new colleague here—do I really look that terrifying? Why were they acting like they’d just seen a ghost?

Not long after, Mr. Mitchell came back, the heavy scent of incense trailing behind him. He stood at the doorway, tossed out a quick set of tasks for me, then bailed, saying he was busy.

School ends early in the mountain village, since a lot of the kids live far away. With no classes, I figured I might as well head home and work on cleaning up the run-down house.

Mr. Mitchell had mentioned he'd get someone to fix up the roof today—just some minor patchwork so it wouldn’t leak during rain. He also said he'd help connect the room next door so I wouldn’t have to go outside late at night just to use the bathroom.

But even after school was over, Mr. Mitchell was nowhere in sight. The other teachers were acting like I had some kind of plague—totally ignoring me.

Getting avoided like that didn’t exactly make me feel welcome. I lost my appetite and didn’t even bother going to the canteen. I decided I’d just cook up some quick porridge back at the house.

As soon as I got to my place, I spotted Mr. Mitchell standing a ways off in front of my door. Next to him were a man and a woman.

I figured, oh, cool—he must’ve brought someone to help fix up the roof, maybe waiting for me to open the door.

I picked up the pace.

But as I got closer, I saw that both of them were holding peachwood swords and, as soon as they saw me, they pointed the tips right at me.

I froze. "What... what are you doing?"

They started chanting something in a weird mumble I couldn’t understand and circled around me a few times until my head started spinning.

Finally, they stopped, and Mr. Mitchell stepped up. "Hannah, now that it’s come to this, I’m afraid we have to ask a lot of you."

Well, supporting education in the countryside was my choice. If things get tough, I just have to endure it.

"Margaret, get her measurements. We’ll try to make her outfit look nice so she won’t feel too bad," Mr. Mitchell added.

Wait, what now? They’re making me custom clothes?

Slightly amused, I told Margaret my measurements.

She gave me this empty stare and said, "Such a perfect figure... what a waste..."

Ugh. I wasn’t even feeling upset before, but hearing that? Now my mood took a nosedive. She was right—such a shame, a good-looking young woman like me, buried in this remote mountain village.

"Mr. Mitchell, tell her not to head back to the city yet," Margaret told him, "The full moon hits in two days—August fifteenth. We’ll come back on time to set up everything for the wedding."

Wedding? Hold up.

I grabbed Margaret just as she was turning to leave. "What the heck is going on here?"

All the hairs on my body stood up. Were they trying to marry me off to some old bachelor or something? No wonder they kept saying it was such a ‘waste.’

Seeing me freak out, Mr. Mitchell stepped closer and said, "Calm down, Hannah. We’re doing this for your own good. If the ghost marriage doesn’t happen, not only will you die, but so will people in the village—even the kids at school."

What?! A ghost marriage? You mean they want me to marry someone who’s already dead?

"Mr. Mitchell, I’m not marrying a dead person. I’m out. I’m leaving."

I didn’t care about anything else—I needed to get out of here before the fifteenth rolled around.

The weird duo wandered off, peachwood swords in hand.

Even Mr. Mitchell left after letting out a heavy sigh.

My mind couldn’t shake off those two words: ghost marriage. I went back inside, and an icy chill hit me out of nowhere.