Nguyen_H_N

No one knows exactly when, but "Ma Lon - The Ghost Can Ritual" has long become a familiar game passed down through generations of children in the neighborhood, whispered from one group of kids to the next.
On summer nights when the power goes out, children sneak out of their homes, gathering in the dimly lit streets to catch the cool breeze. They share spine-chilling stories they’ve heard from older kids—tales that grow more twisted with each retelling.
And among all the ghost stories, the one they love the most—the one they never get tired of hearing—is the legend of the "Ma Lon" game.
Who would believe it? On the first moonless night of the month, when the clock strikes midnight and the darkness spreads thick like ink, all it takes is an empty can, three sticks of incense, and a few coconut candies to summon a restless spirit. A soul that once lived in this very neighborhood—trapped, unable to move on—will enter the can…
And then, the game of tag begins.

Ma lon - The Ghost Can Ritual

Only Two Left – Dũng and NgọcNow, only Dũng and Ngọc remained. It was only at this moment that Dũng truly felt afraid.

For the past month, he had skipped school, despite his parents' constant persuasion, which eventually turned into scolding and even beatings. But he refused to leave his room. Day and night, he kept the lights on, flooding his space with brightness. He hoarded flashlights, stashing them all over his room.

Every night, he called Ngọc to check in. He knew it would be either her first—or him first. Either way, the thought was terrifying. But when he and Ngọc managed to survive another moonless night after Hoa's disappearance, he was so relieved that he eagerly returned to school.

However, Dũng's confidence soon wavered when children in the Old Street neighborhood started vanishing one by one. Those who didn't go missing suffered gruesome fates—falling from high floors and smashing their skulls, or drowning, their bloated bodies found in their own water tanks at home.

Regardless of how they died, their corpses all bore the same haunting feature: their eyes, wide open in sheer terror, as if they had witnessed something unspeakable.

Every month that Dũng and Ngọc survived, another child was taken in their place.

The sound of weeping never ceased. It moved from house to house, month after month. Authorities were helpless. The police couldn't find the culprit. The entire Old Street began to believe in a curse. Families started listing their homes for sale and leaving in droves. Even the ward chairman's family, the neighborhood leader, and the head of the police station—those who once seemed unshakable—were terrified for their children's lives and fled as soon as they could.

Spring had arrived, yet there was no trace of the season's joy in Old Street. The roads were desolate. Shops were empty. The houses stood lifeless and dilapidated. The remaining residents dressed only in black, mourning and despair clouding their faces.

Dũng's family, too, planned to move as soon as they found a new place. For now, he was safe, staying at his grandmother's house. But deep inside, guilt gnawed at him—knowing that every month, innocent children were dying in his place. Unable to bear the heavy weight of that truth, he called Ngọc.

"I'm alive." Ngọc responded with a sad smile.

"Maybe because I live in Uptown, I don't have to hide like you do. My life is still… normal."

"While other kids keep dying every month?"

"Remember, they're dying in your place too. Don't put all the blame on me, acting like you're the only one burdened by this."

"Don't say that… How can you be so indifferent? Aren't you afraid… of death?"

"Living like this—constantly terrified, completely alone—isn't much different. Wouldn't it be better to just… end it? To do what Minh wants, so we can all be together again, just like before?"

Ngọc let her words trail off, leaving Dũng deep in thought.

Why did someone like her—a rich girl from Uptown, the daughter of a powerful CEO and a beautiful, doting mother—act so reckless, so indifferent to life? Not everyone was born into privilege like Ngọc. And yet, despite having nothing to lose, Dũng still desperately wanted to live.

Silence stretched between them. Then Ngọc finally spoke again.

And because of what she said next—Dũng now found himself standing alone, face to face with Minh.

"I think I know how to stop this. The real question is—do you have the guts?"

"I want to live. If you want to follow Minh, then…!"

"Okay. Then next moonless night… we'll finish this game."

Chap 8: It Has to End