The Eclipse Bulgae: Jiryeongjae's Distortion

In 2017, coinciding with the last solar eclipse observed in some parts of South Korea, eerie rumors began to spread. There were successive reports of inexplicable equipment malfunctions and strange disappearances in the deep forest valleys around Sobaeksan National Park, particularly near an old hiking trail called 'Jiryeongjae'. A consistent pattern was reported in online communities and local forums, and I began to track this phenomenon.

Local residents spoke of the ancient 'Bulgae' stories. They described it not merely as a mythical creature, but as an 'omen', a 'disturbance in the air' that appeared whenever the sun darkened. They spoke of 'heat without fire' and 'a pulling force from the sky' with suspicious expressions. A report from a hiker, dismissed by the police as sunstroke-induced hallucination, particularly caught my attention. He claimed that during the peak of the eclipse, the surrounding air became intolerably hot, his compass spun wildly, and he felt immense pressure, 'as if the mountain itself was inhaling'. He barely escaped, but his skin bore distinct localized burn marks, consistent with no known heat source.

A month later, on a day a partial solar eclipse was forecast, I headed to Jiryeongjae for this investigation, specifically to a deep valley called 'Eumbokgol'. Most of the disappearances and strange reports originated from here. From the moment I descended into Eumbokgol, an unusual atmosphere enveloped me. Even at midday, the valley was perpetually shrouded in deep shadows, and the dense foliage made it difficult for even a single ray of sunlight to penetrate. The air was much colder and stickier than the surrounding forest, clinging to my skin, and the ground beneath my feet was strangely damp, despite there being no water stream nearby. My geological scanner immediately recorded irregular electromagnetic fluctuations far exceeding normal ranges.

The first thing that engulfed me was silence. The usual chirping of cicadas or singing of birds was completely absent, replaced by a terrifyingly deep stillness that seemed to constrict from all directions. When I clapped my hands to test it, even that sound seemed to be absorbed and vanish unusually quickly.

As I ventured deeper into Eumbokgol, the subtle anomalies intensified. The temperature fluctuated unpredictably. Suddenly, I felt extreme warmth, then an immediate bone-chilling cold would envelop me. Despite the humidity in the cold air, my breath was clearly visible. In places on the damp valley floor, moss and plants were inexplicably withered, brittle like dry parchment, as if exposed to sudden intense heat. Strange phenomena were observed in a small stream flowing through the valley. Small currents would briefly flow upstream, defying the flow, then return to their original direction. It was as if witnessing nature's flow momentarily falter. The previously silent Geiger counter also began to click at irregular intervals.

The forest's stillness was occasionally broken by a low, guttural moan. This sound didn't come from a specific point, but seemed to resonate from the air itself around me. It was less a sound heard by the ears and more a vibration that rattled my chest. Involuntarily, I looked up at the sky, but the dense branches obscured most of my view. That pressure the hiker described, a subtle yet persistent pressure, as if descending to an immense depth, now began to press on my eardrums.

The partial eclipse reached its peak. Even though only a tiny sliver of the sun was obscured, the valley plunged into an even deeper, almost supernatural darkness. It was then that everything changed. The subtle anomalies condensed and transformed into a tangible horror. The surrounding air became as hot as a burning furnace. The ground beneath my feet shimmered like a heat haze, and faint smoke began to rise from the dry earth piles. The stream locally boiled violently, evaporating and disappearing unusually quickly.

And gravity warped. A sudden, immense downward pressure engulfed me, and my knees buckled as if an invisible hand was pushing me into the ground. All my equipment went wild. The compass needle spun erratically, then stopped, pointing nowhere. The air itself began to vibrate with that guttural moan. It was now a deafening roar that vibrated through my bones. That's when I saw it. It wasn't a 'Bulgae' creature. It was a distortion of the air itself. A shimmering silhouette, like a heat haze, seemingly absorbing the faint ambient light. In the suffocating heat, it moved with unnatural speed, approaching me as if targeting its prey. Just then, a branch from an old tree directly above my head broke with an impossible cracking sound. The branch didn't fall downwards, but swayed sideways and flew off, as if caught by a powerful, invisible current.

I was trapped. My escape route behind me, a narrow path climbing over rugged rocks, began to visibly contract. The rocks, twisted and bent under immense, invisible pressure, literally crumbled, creating a bottleneck of falling stones. The roar intensified, and the heat became unbearable. A horrible, searing pain enveloped my exposed arm, even though nothing directly touched me. It was a sharp, burning presence, pushing out the space I occupied, compressing, as if attempting to consume my very existence within it. In a desperate burst of adrenaline, I squeezed through a narrow gap in the crumbling rocks and threw myself upwards, climbing without noticing my skin and clothes tearing. The burning air clung to my back, and I barely escaped the valley's engulfing maw.

I emerged from Eumbokgol battered and profoundly changed by the experience. The perfectly symmetrical, circular burn mark distinctly etched on my arm, completely unlike friction or environmental factors, serves as a chilling reminder. My equipment was destroyed, partially melted despite no direct flames. The internal components of my state-of-the-art GPS device had turned to slag. Forensic analysis of the soil samples I barely recovered revealed abnormal magnetic anomalies along with traces of minerals exposed to extreme heat at the moment of peak phenomena.

Reports of the 'Bulgae'—the Bulgae of the eclipse—now take on a whole new, chilling meaning. It was not a mythical creature, but a localized, predatory atmospheric or energetic phenomenon that appears with specific celestial alignments, accompanied by extreme heat, pressure, and distortion of physical laws. Since then, I've developed an uncomfortable sensitivity even to partial eclipses occurring far from Sobaeksan. The air thins, my skin tingles, and sometimes, in the pre-dawn darkness, I catch a faint scent of that impossible heat. The deep silence of Eumbokgol, and the feeling of being an intruder in a space occupied by something ancient and hungry, never leaves me. I now know those stories aren't mere legends. They are warnings repeated across generations. About a presence that comes when the sun darkens, gnawing not only at celestial bodies but at the very fabric of reality itself, leaving behind only silence, strange burns, and its lingering trace.