Midnight Curse

Midnight Curse
*That Night*
The new moon had just vanished behind thick black clouds. The village road lay silent, with only the sound of wind whistling through the ancient trees. Mr. Hung, the owner of the local karaoke bar, stumbled home after a night of drinking with friends. The stench of alcohol filled the air as he staggered along the dirt path, his mind spinning and his steps unsteady.
Suddenly, his gaze caught sight of a small figure sitting under the old banyan tree. In the dim moonlight, he could see it was a young girl, about 12 years old, with long black hair draping over half her face. Her small hands were diligently digging into the earth.
"What’s a kid like you doing here so late? Don’t you have a home?" His voice croaked as he spoke.
The girl slowly lifted her face. Beneath her jet-black hair, her eyes glowed strangely bright, and a faint smile crossed her lips. "I'm digging a grave for my father. He killed the baby in my mother's womb and then disappeared. Today is my baby brother’s first death anniversary..."
A chill ran through Mr. Hung. There was something unsettling about the story and the girl's gaze. But the alcohol clouded his mind, making it hard to think clearly. "Poor thing, no money for a proper burial? Here, let me give you some money..." he muttered, reaching into his pocket.
Just then, a cold gust of wind swept past, making him lose his balance. His foot caught on a tree root, sending him crashing forward. His head struck a jagged granite stone by the roadside, and fresh blood began soaking into the earth.
The girl stood up and approached him. In the moonlight, her face became clear-one side pale as a ghost, the other disfigured, as if burned by acid. "Father, I’ve waited a long time for this day. Do you remember when you threw acid on my face and mother’s? Now you can rest here, beside my little brother’s grave..."
Her shrill laughter echoed through the night, blending with the wind rustling through the old trees. The next morning, they found Mr. Hung’s body beside the banyan tree, next to an old, small grave. No one ever knew the truth of his death, nor had anyone in the village ever heard of a girl with a scarred face…