Anonymous Confession: The Ghost Money Ritual
I wish I could undo what I did. But it’s too late. Greed pulled me in, and now I live with the weight of my sins.
I was once a poor man in a small village in China. I watched the rich grow richer while I struggled to survive. I envied them—their fine clothes, their full tables, their easy lives. I wanted that. I needed that.
I had heard rumours of a ritual. People said that burning joss paper(spirit money) could send wealth to ancestors in the afterlife. But darker rumors spread, too—rumors that if you offered **a human soul** instead, wealth would come to you in this life.
At first, I dismissed it. It was just a story, wasn’t it? A foolish tale to scare greedy men.
But desperation changes a person.
One night, I went to the shrine with an old beggar.I had lured with promises of food. My hands trembled as I prepared the ritual. I burned stacks of spirit money, then an effigy. And finally… I took his life. His blood mixed with the ashes. The flames flickered wildly.
Then, silence.
I thought it had failed. But the next morning, everything changed. A merchant in town suddenly gifted me a fortune in gold, claiming he owed a debt he had forgotten. My business flourished. Doors that were once closed swung wide open.
I was rich. Powerful. Untouchable.
But wealth is never free.
At night, I heard footsteps in my home when no one was there. The scent of burning joss paper filled my room. I saw shadows lurking in the corners, and whispers brushed against my ears.
Then the deaths began. My servants, my friends, even my own brother—one by one, they died mysteriously. Some in their sleep, some in accidents too strange to be accidents.
I tried to stop it. I burned more joss paper, prayed to the spirits, even gave away my riches. But it didn’t matter. The curse had already started.
And now, I wait. I know the spirits will come for me next. I know my time is running out.
If you ever hear of the ghost money ritual, **walk away**. No wealth is worth the price I paid.
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