By Joshua Vise – January 27, 2025

Published in Petting Boo! by Wicked Shadow Press. Lulu: Paperback or EPUB

Standing in the center of Danil Village, one would be hard pressed to distinguish it from any other tiny rural village in South Korea. Simple homes devoid of any ornamentation lined each of the three roads that run in an east-west direction through the middle of town. Jagged, heavily forested mountains cradled the village on either side, standing in stark contrast to the flat rice fields that the residents cultivated. Large barns, their corrugated roofs shining in the daytime sun, were nearly as numerous as the homes. They housed all manner of farming machinery, from tired tractors that did their duty reliably enough to still be of use, to brand new cultivators and digging equipment whose value exceeded the value of the structures that they occupied.

The rural way of life in many Korean villages had been slowly dying out as people gravitated to the opportunities in the capital, Seoul. Danil, devoid of culture, convenience, and children, would have been no exception in this regard. However, while politicians often paid lip-service to the concerns of other villages and their declining way of life, Danil found itself actively supported, even propped-up by the government long after it should have joined its abandoned brethren. The 243 residents of the town were exempt from military service requirements and income taxation, and received massive subsidies to continue their way of life. After all, Danil was the only South Korean village occupying the heavily militarized strip of land between North and South Korea. The demilitarized zone’s line of demarcation rested only 1500 meters to the north, and a similar village just beyond that border, known as Hwamok Village, preserved North Korea’s claim to dignity in much the same way as Danil. Neither country was willing to bear the loss of face that would accompany a withdrawal from this zone, regardless of the practicality of maintaining their presence amid the barbed wire, searchlights, landmines, and guard posts.

Still, the benefits that the residents received came at a heavy cost in the form of restrictions on their freedoms. The nightly curfew was preceded by a headcount, and any visitors from outside the village were forced to register for an armed escort two weeks in advance. Flare-ups in the relations between the two adversaries could immediately result in the imposition of new burdens on Danil’s citizens at any time. Additionally, Danil had also found itself the target of North Korean special forces in the past, who attempted to either sabotage their way of life or use the village as a waypoint for further incursion into the south.

Due to these lingering animosities, when Kim Byung Chul, an elderly farmer-resident failed to check in at curfew one night in early April, military administration immediately cast their suspicions northward. A manhunt was mobilized, utilizing all of the resources that had been poured into border security in the seventy years since the DMZ had first been established. Officials studied video surveillance tapes from that day, while drones equipped with infrared cameras scoured the treeline as close to the border as they could fly without violating North Korean airspace. Despite these efforts, the victim was never found, and the incident report listed his disappearance as “probable kidnapping or potential defection”.

*****

Kim Min Ho, special detective for the Republic of Korea Military Investigations Unit entered the interrogation room and took his seat across from the gaunt young man still wearing his Korean People’s Army uniform. In the dimly lit room, the soldier’s simple olive-green jacket with red lapel and brass buttons blended nearly perfectly with the drab wallpaper behind him while contrasting sharply with his face. His sunken eyes and cheeks cast dark shadows across his pallid features. It gave the detective the unsettling impression that he was speaking to a ghostly, disembodied head.

“Name and rank,” stated Detective Kim.

The man continued to look down, his elbows rested on the table, and his hands were clasped tightly in front of him.

“Name and rank,” repeated Detective Kim.

The man answered in a low voice, not once looking up at the detective.

“Senior Officer Seon Seung Min, Korean People’s Army, DPRK.”

Detective Kim glanced at the one-way mirror spanning the length of the far wall, then continued.

“And your hometown?”

Officer Seon squeezed his hands tightly. Detective Kim could sense that his reluctance stemmed not from defiance, but from genuine fear, though he couldn’t pinpoint the cause of that fear yet. Most defectors were aware of the grim fates that awaited their extended family, coworkers, and other associates upon their escape from the brutal northern regime. This made interrogation difficult, as the escapees, already feeling as if they had betrayed their loved ones, viewed cooperation with South Korean authorities as somehow deepening the wound. Despite his genuine empathy, Detective Kim had regulations to follow.

“Officer Seon…”

The young man sighed deeply.

“Officer Seon,” repeated Detective Kim more sharply, this time rapping his knuckles on the table several times. This secured the detainee’s attention.

“Officer Seon, you wish to defect, is that correct?”

Seon nodded, his lips pursed tightly as if afraid to speak his answer aloud.

“Then you need to answer my questions. Understand that we are under no obligation to accept you. If you don’t cooperate with our investigation, we will send you back.”

Again, Seon nodded. For the first time, Detective Kim was able to see his eyes, and in them, he recognized the look of a man finally willing to unburden himself of all of his secrets. The next few questions that Detective Kim posed were answered rapidly, and with military clarity.

“What is your hometown?”

“Huichon, Chagang Province.”

“What was your last assignment prior to crossing the DMZ?”

“Border security, Hwamok Village.”

“And your reason for defection?”

“I was guarding Prisoner Byung Chul when he escaped across the border.”

Detective Kim opened the manila file that sat in front of him. He skimmed several documents until he found what he wanted.

“You’re referring to Kim Byung Chul of Danil Village, correct?”

“Yes.”

“When you say ‘his escape across the border’, are you referring to his disappearance on April 8th of this year?”

“No. He escaped from his holding cell in Hwamok Village only a week ago.”

“And you fear retaliation for his escape?”

At this question, Officer Seon again turned his gaze to the table. He reached for the glass of water in front of him and took a sip.

“Officer Seon?”

“I feared the bears.”

*****

Several months passed since Kim Byung Chul’s disappearance, and life slowly resumed its normal cadence for the residents of Danil. Their plows churned through the water and mud of their rice paddies under the glare of the hot summer sun. As they worked, the farmers kept a wary eye on the treeline. Each shadow was greeted with suspicion, and every rustling branch owed its existence as much to the enemy soldiers creeping just out of view as it did to the wind, at least in the mind of the beleaguered workers.

Such heightened vigilance took an incredible mental toll on the citizens of Danil, so much so that when the second disappearance occurred, villagers felt a sense of relief when security footage revealed the cause to be a bear attack rather than the result of any military activity.

The political and military isolation that prevented human habitation over much of the DMZ had turned the 250-kilometer strip of land between the two countries into an unintentional nature reserve, with many dozens of endangered plants and animals finding refuge in the four-kilometer-wide border between the two enemies. One such endangered species was the Asiatic black bear, or moon bear as it had been called owing to its circular patch of white hair on its chest. While sightings were incredibly rare throughout most of South Korea, soldiers in forward guard posts had made contact with these temperamental creatures on dozens of occasions in the preceding decades. Military sensors were not-infrequently triggered by the presence of these 150-kilogram giants. Soldiers on patrol in the DMZ occasionally stumbled onto families of bears in the springtime, when mothers and their new cubs emerged from their dens to feast on the wild berries and elk that also inhabited this refuge.

Still, a natural threat was a threat nonetheless, and as the horrifying video of a giant moon bear dragging Yoon Jung Nam into the treeline made its way through the community, residents demanded additional support and protection. Eager to appease this special constituency, lawmakers obliged, and bear traps were ordered to be put in place in the areas nearest the forest. Of course, the politicians knew that this was just a symbolic act; the areas around the village were littered with anti-personnel mines, and these cruel implements of warfare would be just as effective against a bear as they would a human.

*****

Despite all of his training, Detective Kim was unable to suppress his surprise at Officer Seon’s mention of bears. There were several active investigations surrounding the events of that year, and yet not a single mention of a bear had been made public. Even the different investigating bodies were reluctant to mention the bear attacks in their own internal reports for fear of incredulity on the part of their superiors.

“What bears are you referring to?” asked Detective Kim.

He attempted a look of nonchalance, but Officer Seon had already noticed. For the first time since his capture, Seon smiled, knowing that he now had something valuable to bargain with.

“I want something to eat, first,” he said, grinning.

“That’s not how this works,” replied Detective Kim curtly. “Your cooperation is a requirement.”

“I just want some food,” Seon reiterated softly.

Officer Seon’s grin had begun to fade, though a closed-mouth smile still cut across his narrow face. Detective Kim sensed he was on the verge of a big breakthrough, and didn’t want to risk spoiling it over some pitiful display of dominance over a starving defector. He turned to the one-way mirror and raised his voice.

“Can we have some food brought in?”

He looked at the pane for a moment, then turned back to Officer Seon.

“Alright,” resumed Kim, his flat, professional tone reestablishing itself. “You tell me about the bears, and when we are done, they will bring the food in.”

“It’s a long story.”

“That’s acceptable. Please just begin,” answered Detective Kim.

Officer Seon folded his hands in his lap and leaned forward. He breathed in deeply, and his smile disappeared as he mentally prepared himself for his revelation.

“Before you can know about the bears, you have to know about the tunnels, which…”

“Wait a moment,” interrupted Detective Kim. “Before you continue, I would just like to remind you that we will be verifying all of the statements that you make. If anything you say is intentionally false or misleading…”

Detective Kim raised his eyebrows, knowing he didn’t need to finish his sentence. Officer Seon shook his head and continued.

“You’re aware of the incursion tunnels.”

“Yes,” confirmed Detective Kim. “The four tunnels crossing the DMZ from north to south.”

In the mid-seventies, South Korean soldiers had discovered the tunnels, each of which could be used to bypass the demilitarized zone in the event of an invasion from the north.

“Yes, except there aren’t four.”

Detective Kim leaned forward attentively.

“How many are there?”

“More like seventeen,” answered Officer Seon.

“Seventeen?!” repeated Kim, again unable to hold back the note of astonishment in his voice.

“Around that. More were started, but some collapsed.”

Detective Kim desperately wanted to probe further in the hopes of discovering more about these tunnels, including their location. However, he had enough wisdom to know not to interrupt further. Any sour note in a conversation could cause Officer Seon to freeze up. Instead, he made a conscious effort to hold his feelings in check.

“Okay,” he said. “Keep going, please.”

“I was assigned to a security detail during the construction of tunnel twelve, near Chorwon-gun.”

Seon’s voice was cool and measured as he recounted the details.

“It was a relatively shallow tunnel, only twenty meters below the topsoil. We had passed under our defensive positions and had just crossed the line of demarcation, when a few of our diggers ran back toward the surface.”

“Who were the diggers?” probed Kim. “Other soldiers?”

Officer Seon shook his head.

“Political prisoners, mostly.”

“So why were they running back to the surface?”

“They had found something underground. They thought it might have been some South Korean booby trap, since we were now past the line of demarcation.”

“What did they find?”

“A door, with the image of a bear carved into it.”

*****

It was the third instance involving moon bears, this time targeting a forward guard post, that really raised eyebrows outside of the village community. Unlike the first man, who had simply vanished, or the second who had been dragged away, the bodies of the two soldiers on special duty at this post were found, their corpses a testament to the violence with which the bears attacked. Deep claw marks lacerated their forearms and torsos, while their throats had been ripped open by jagged incisors. Hair and spoor at the scene further solidified this atrocious event as the work of at least one bear, if not several.

While the evidence of bloodshed was abundant, the evidence from the attack itself was disturbingly sparse and incongruent. Manning a guard post along the DMZ was considered especially grueling and tedious work, with every action scrutinized by CCTV cameras that monitored both the inside and outside of the guard post twenty-four hours a day. Yet, on the night in question, the cameras had been disabled, their cables mysteriously cut. Moreover, while the inside of the guard post was in a state of bloody disarray, several sensitive items were missing entirely, with no evidence as to their whereabouts. Maps marking locations of mines and other obstacles as well as suspected positions of North Korean defenses had been removed from the walls. Surveillance equipment aimed at North Korea showed signs of having been deliberately tampered with, their data cards removed without the equipment itself being damaged.

The potential security breach, combined with the deaths of two decorated soldiers, triggered a series of responses that spilled out from the military sphere and into the wider world of diplomacy. Unsure of the exact nature of the skirmish, South Korean officials nonetheless issued a stern condemnation of the attack on the guard post that was as vague as it was accusatory. Additional security measures were put in place throughout the entirety of the DMZ, including increasing the number of troops stationed in forward positions. North Korea, true to its prior habits, denied any involvement with or knowledge of attacks along the border, and bolstered its own troop presence as a response.

Amid this political and military grandstanding, the residents of Danil Village could do little but follow their established routines. They talked among themselves, looking for comfort from the only people who could fully understand their situation. If the attack was truly the result of a particularly aggressive group of bears, as many villagers believed, there was little that could be done about it. Any hunter foolish enough to brave the booby traps and landmines in the land surrounding the village would still be prohibited from entering the wider DMZ. The only answer was to wait and hope that the predators, whoever or whatever they may be, would soon reveal themselves. Until that time, life in Danil Village would continue to be lived at the intersection of tedium and anxiety.

*****

“What made you believe the door was ancient?”

Whether or not Officer Seon’s story was credible, it was interesting, and he showed no sign of holding anything back. Detective Kim no longer bothered to hide his curiosity as he continued his inquiry.

“The carving was done in the style of the Goryeo Dynasty.”

“That would make it around a thousand years old.”

Officer Seon nodded.

“At least, that is what I was told later.”

“What happened then?”

Officer Seon took another sip of water and cleared his throat roughly.

“We reported the discovery to our superiors. They said that there was to be no delay in the construction of the tunnel. We had to get the workers back in there, and the only way to do that was to take a team down there and investigate it ourselves.”

“Investigate it how?” asked Detective Kim.

Officer Seon’s features took on a gloomy aspect. He rested on his elbows and stared at his hands much as he had done before.

“Just open it. Confirm it was not dangerous. Then we would send the workers back in.”

“So you opened the door?”

Seon shook his head.

“No. I stood outside of the door, while the other five members of the security team opened it and went in.”

“The door actually opened?”

“Yes,” continued Seon. “Surprisingly easily.”

“What did they find when they opened it?”

“I’m not really sure. They never spoke about what they saw exactly. I’m not sure they even knew what they saw. All I do know is that there was a bright green light.”

“Like an explosive?” Detective Kim leaned forward, his elbows on the table as well, his eyes wide with anticipation.

“No,” answered Seon. “It was sustained, like a floodlight. It lit the whole tunnel behind me. I heard screams, and the others spilled through the doorway. Then we all ran. I didn’t even realize the tunnel was collapsing behind me. All I knew is that we had to get out.”

*****

The nervous monotony lingered for several months, until one September morning, an elderly gentleman was spotted emerging from the forest and hobbling towards the town. Guards at several of the forward posts spotted this man as he limped his way towards the village, and an army detachment on patrol captured him before he could enter the town. It was quickly discovered that this man was Kim Byung Chul, the original resident that had been presumed kidnapped. His identity was confirmed by other residents of Danil, and he was taken to a medical facility.

While still in his hospital bed, military investigators arrived, eager to learn about the man’s whereabouts and experiences during the six months that he had been missing, but upon interrogation, the exhausted, malnourished man seemed to have a mental breakdown. In his delirium, he made wild, fantastic claims of being pursued, captured, and dragged into Hwamok Village. The perpetrators of this kidnapping were a group of bears, all of whom had assumed human form after crossing the border.

Even more bizarrely, he reported the arrival of Yoon Jung Nam in his village prison. There was no way that Byung Chul could have known of Yoon’s disappearance given that it occurred after his own disappearance. Moreover, the bear attack on Yoon had been recorded, further lending evidence to Byung Chul’s otherwise preposterous claim.

It was hoped that in the days ahead, Byung Chul would be able to repeat his story minus the delusional aspects as his health improved. However, his condition continued to deteriorate, and he died in the military hospital three days after having been admitted, and only two days before Seon was captured crossing the border.

*****

“I told you, I don’t know how it works!”

Officer Seon’s voice, equal parts adamant and pleading, continued to implore Detective Kim to listen to his story. For his part, Kim listened only out of obligation, having already come to the conclusion that Seon was either psychotic or intentionally wasting his time.

“Tell me again when the others discovered that they could transform?”

“But I already told you!”

“Again, please. Just for the record.”

Officer Seon leaned back in his chair, matching Kim’s stubborn posture as he spoke.

“When we came out of the tunnel, some of the diggers…”

“The prisoners, you mean.”

“Yes, the prisoners were waiting to ambush us at the entrance. When we came out, they attacked.”

Kim waved his hand in the air dismissively.

“And it was during that fight that the other members of the security detail…”

He looked down at the notepad in front of him.

“…that they ‘shifted into bears and killed the workers’?”

“Yes.”

“And that the People’s Army now uses this group of ‘bear-soldiers’ to raid border posts?”

“Yes!”

“And kidnap people to dig tunnels under the border?”

“Yes!”

“Those are your exact words. This is a story you expect us to believe?”

“It’s true!” exclaimed Seon. He sensed Kim’s skepticism, and yet could think of no other way to bolster his claims.

“You can prove it,” Kim spat tersely. “Change into a bear right now, and we will believe you.”

“I TOLD you already!” shouted Seon. “I guarded the door! I wasn’t in the room! I can’t do what they do!”

Officer Seon stood up forcefully from his chair. Almost immediately, the door to the interrogation room flew open, and several soldiers rushed in, pinning Seon to the wall behind him. In the rush, Detective Kim tumbled back from his chair.

“Get him out of here,” said Kim as he quickly returned to his feet. Seon struggled against the soldiers, all the while shouting at Kim over their shoulders.

“It’s true! You must believe me!”

*****

Despite the incredulity with which he had ended the interrogation, Detective Kim’s thoughts lingered on Officer Seon’s words in the weeks that followed. He held no belief in the legendary Korean myths surrounding the magic of ancient dynasties, and his mind naturally gravitated towards the rational, rejecting any idea of the paranormal. Even so, he could find a strange, interior logic to Seon’s explanation in which, if one accepted the premise of these mystical ‘bear-soldiers’, everything else surrounding the incidents of the previous months made sense. Seon was interrogated several more times by other detectives, yet his deranged story never changed. He continued to be held in military custody as those in power discussed how best to handle a delusional yet cooperative defector.

One day, Detective Kim found a package waiting for him on his desk. The unobtrusive brown box contained a package stamped with the words “Top Secret: For Authorized Eyes Only”, with further text explaining the penalty for copying or distributing the data card within the package. A small handwritten note accompanied the data card, saying only “DMZ Forward Post 52 Danil Village CCTV Camera 03175 – October 8th Activity”. There was no return address or sender information either on the package or in the note. Detective Kim inserted the data card into his encrypted card reader, and opened it. Inside it was a single video file bearing the same name as the handwritten note. He steeled himself as he clicked on the file. Past video reports had included grisly activity such as failed defections, and the summary executions were performed in full view of South Korean CCTV as a warning to others.

A single stretch of no-man’s land filled the frame. The deep red leaves of the autumn forest stood dark against the bright blue sky in a way that would have been beautiful if not for the horrible reality of the context. For half a minute, the only indication that this was a video rather than a picture was a white cloud slowly drifting out of frame in the top corner.

Then, a rustling motion among the trees caught Detective Kim’s eye. It increased in intensity, the branches swaying and leaves falling, until suddenly a man appeared. He stumbled his way out from the brushline and ran into the open. The surveillance equipment reacted automatically to this unnatural motion, zooming in and centering the man in the frame. The clarity in the military-grade optics revealed the face of Yoon Jung Nam contorted in pain as he limped through the clearing in front of the forest.

All at once, several moon bears burst from the treeline, their large bodies shaking the trees violently as they emerged. Yoon looked over his shoulder, and though the video lacked audio, Detective Kim could imagine his scream as Yoon’s mouth opened wide and his faltering pace quickened. It was of no use.

The bears caught up to him in a matter of seconds, and the largest moon bear lunged at him, pinning him to the ground. Their prey secured, the trailing bears slowed their pace until all five stood over their hapless victim. One bear stood on his hind legs, flashing vicious teeth and curved claws before sinking them into Yoon’s neck. His struggling ceased instantly.

Having accomplished their grisly task, the group of bears turned and retreated slowly back to the treeline. On their way, the lead bear jerked suddenly, as if he had been bitten by something. The other four bears stopped as this first one tugged, and though the image was small, Detective Kim could make out the steel bars of a bear trap, one of the several put in place outside of Danil Village after the initial incident with Yoon.

Out of nowhere, a bright green flash overwhelmed the camera’s sensor. When the flare had dissipated, the trapped bear had been replaced with a uniformed North Korean soldier. He struggled against the trap that still ensnared his leg, and waved to the other bears. A similar flash of light, and the entire pack had metamorphosed into a group of soldiers, each similarly dressed, and each with an AK-47 slung over his shoulder.

Immediately after the group’s transformation, they ran to the side of the trapped soldier. Kim could see the man howling in pain, his hands struggling to push open the hinged mechanism of the bear trap as his compatriots attempted to force the butt of their rifles in between the teeth of its powerful jaws.

The frantic struggle lasted for several minutes, until one of the soldiers backed away, a look of irritated exhaustion across his face. He drew his sidearm and waved impatiently at the others, who quickly stepped back. The trapped man pleaded in the direction of his compatriot, but to no effect. The bullet tore through his head, and the unlucky soldier immediately slumped over, his leg still in the viselike grip of the trap.

For a moment, the four soldiers stood around, unsure of what to do next. They gestured back and forth between the body, the woods, and Yoon’s body, animatedly arguing with each other until the group seemed to come to a conclusion. After an overpowering flash of green light, the four bears retreated into the forest and disappeared.