Entry 02: Water Ghost (Ma Da)

Excerpt From The Netherworld Book Chapter Of The Abyss Of Yin Souls

The western lands of old were forests of heaven and poisonous waters. Those winding rivers, seemingly gentle, were stopping places for countless lives. Unlike land, water is truly a hanging prison. Those who perished here, bodies drifting far from souls, were imprisoned and difficult to transcend. People call them Water Ghosts, or Ma Da, a mass of slime stinking like rotten fish and decaying seaweed. Water Ghosts are collections of trapped wandering souls, existing only to find replacements and substitutes, hoping to shorten time until they can reincarnate. Most are harmless, but those Water Ghosts that have killed too many will transform into resentful spirits, jealous of the warmth of life and becoming particularly dangerous. They develop into Water Demon Essences, with bodies that are soft bodied creatures or climbing vines at river bottoms, using tendrils to wrap legs and drag victims down. Water Ghosts are entities of cold water, so they are attracted to warm places like forges or fires by rivers. When crawling ashore to warm themselves and ambush prey, they leave slippery slime trails on floors, exactly like snails. Any careless worker stepping on this slime will slip and fall into water, and then the Water Ghost only needs to pull and drown. Therefore, folk have the custom of boiling water mixed with lemongrass to wash away filth and remove those evil slime trails. They fear garlic, salt, and especially heavy metals, so riverside people often hang iron nets at water platforms for defense. The appearance of Water Ghosts always carries signs. They often cling to house corners, dark ceiling corners because they need those angles to attach. The water stains Water Ghosts leave are fixed, not spreading, not changing shape, gateways for them to watch victims. Those haunted will continuously dream of rivers and water, being rowed away from home by strangers. If encountering these stains, one must calmly call a specialized shaman, because if making a commotion, the Water Ghost will run away. Water Ghosts are part of the reason many people jump from bridges to end their lives, because they cling, haunt those with matching fates, and pull souls away. In Can Tho, blacksmith Tam Chi was too arrogant, dismissing warnings. His forge near the Hau River had lured a Water Demon Essence to the extreme. He saw fixed water stains, pale gray at the ceiling corner but deliberately ignored them. One night, heat from the furnace spreading, he stepped on an incredibly slippery slime trail on the floor. His foot slipped hard. Before he could scream, a force cold as ice gripped his ankle. He looked down, horrified to see a stinking slimy mass clinging tightly, its body blurred like a soft bodied creature. He was drowned. People found his body afterward, eyes wide and soulless. The soul had been imprisoned by the Water Ghost, and that water stain on the house corner still remains, because it is the sign of a vacancy just filled.

Hidden Resentment From Deep River Depths

These slimy entities do not randomly wander beneath deep river bottoms, they are legacies of suffering from being submerged, from sudden drowning accidents where swift currents swept away lives, or tragic suicides beneath hanging bridges. Resentment from the last breath, swallowed by water bubbles, congeals into layers of stinking slimy skin, half real half illusory, wandering seeking replacements to escape the eternal cycle beneath the water palace. According to folk legend, Water Ghosts are the ghosts of the drowned, unable to transcend because bodies drifted far, often hiding in ponds, lakes, rivers, especially the western Mekong Delta where waterways crisscross, waiting for careless travelers to wrap around limbs. In places like Can Tho or Dong Thap, where morning floating markets bustle hiding secrets beneath water surfaces, whispers say each slimy mass carries the distorted cries for help of hundreds of souls, stuck between the boundary of life and death, waiting for a victim with matching fate to lure into the whirlpool of resentment. Not just from disasters, sometimes they are born from ancient curses, where water demons are summoned from river bottom seaweed, or from murder cases hiding bodies beneath flowing currents, turning death into persistent whispers through drizzling rain. At temples by the Tien River, where wind carries the stench of the past, people still carve warnings on stone, reminding that if not properly appeased with correct rituals, resentment will transform into Water Ghosts, multiplying in mud, waiting for new victims to fill their own cold emptiness.

Slithering Form In Humid Night Shadows

When dusk dyes the river surface red, Water Ghosts do not rush to surface but silently crawl close to the water surface, a pale slimy mass peeking beneath rippling waves, looking like harmless seaweed drifting with the current. It can transform into soft climbing vines wrapping around bridge posts, or strange puddles on shore, luring the weary with fake gentleness in the muggy river region. But when victims approach, that slimy mass will suddenly slither quickly, wrapping around ankles with faint rustling sounds, carrying the strong stench of dead fish and bone chilling cold seeping into flesh. The sound from it is not water lapping but distant whispers, like distorted pleas echoing from the netherworld, telling of floods that have never subsided, making listeners’ hearts beat erratically, souls shrinking before invisible terror. The accompanying smell is that putrid stench mixed with the sour taste of old resentment, spreading in humid air, making vision blurry and surrounding air heavy like thick mud, sometimes luring entire groups of Water Ghosts gathering, forming slimy networks blocking paths beneath rivers, turning familiar currents into mazes leading straight into the abyss. On rainy nights, when mist rolls from canals, Water Demon Essences often appear densely, their vines interweaving like stinking spider webs, waiting for the sound of lost footsteps on hanging bridges to set traps, pulling not just bodies but also painful memories of countless human lives.

Numbing Pain From The Water Demon’s Kiss

Encountering Water Ghosts is not just a passing nightmare but a stinking curse extending into the next life. Victims initially feel bone chilling cold spreading from limbs, as if invisible hands stroke ankles, making breath choke into meaningless stammers. If the slimy mass touches flesh, pain will spread like acid corroding, limbs gradually numbing, blood congealing in vessels, and ultimately, the spirit is sucked away from the body, lost drifting in the deep abyss of the water palace. Those lucky enough to survive still carry permanent marks: pale skin, hoarse voices, along with horrifying dreams where Water Ghosts chase with chuckling laughter echoing from beneath water. Moreover, that curse can spread, making victims’ relatives begin to see strange slime trails around houses late at night, or hear strange hissing in wind, gradually pulling entire bloodlines into endless cycles of resentment. In villages by the Hau River, where waves carry whispers of the past, there are families still telling of ancestors once wrapped by Water Ghosts, and from then, their descendants must live with persistent fear, avoiding bridges and rafts on rainy nights, because just one careless step can awaken Water Demons from the deep sleep of mud.

Secrets To Disperse Water Ghost Shadows

Through generations passed down, folk share ancient rituals to repel that horror. If suspecting slime trails are Water Ghosts, do not touch them with hands, because that contact will bind your soul into the whirlpool of hatred. Instead, immediately pour boiling water mixed with lemongrass or crushed garlic onto the stains, mouth murmuring names of protective deities like Saint Mother Lieu Hanh or Ba Chua Xu, while sprinkling salt grains or hanging iron nets around water platforms, because their sour bitterness and metal will make Water Demons shrink, forcing them to retreat deep into river bottoms. And above all, stay away from deep rivers or hanging bridges on rainy nights, where night wind still whispers curses of those who have passed. Experienced shamans in the western region also advise using charms drawn with shrimp ink from seaweed, carved on yellow paper with sutras for salvation, burned so smoke carries away resentment, releasing Water Ghost souls from cycles of suffering. Or, if daring to face it, throw a handful of fresh pungent ginger toward that slimy mass, because the burning spiciness will dispel the illusion layer, forcing Water Ghosts to reveal true form and flee before dawn. Yet, no matter which ritual, all require iron courage, because just a moment of hesitation, and that stinking slime will wrap around you, pulling you into the shadow realm where hoarse whispers echo endlessly. Today, Water Ghosts seem to only remain faint shadows in stories adults use to scare children, like play by the river late, watch out for Water Ghosts pulling your legs. Yet in lands around Can Tho, Dong Thap, there are still old people telling that sometimes, in silent drizzling nights, stinking slime appears on riverside house floors, and when northeast wind blows past, it suddenly slithers toward the witness. That is the Water Ghost, still wandering, still craving, in the endless flow of the netherworld.