Agwi (아귀, 餓鬼) — the Hungry Ghost

The soul of one who clutched and hoarded in life, never giving, is condemned in death to a hunger that cannot be filled. Among the six realms of Buddhist cosmology, the Realm of Hungry Ghosts — Agwi-do — is the place where such souls drift and settle. The beings who fall there are called Agwi.

Their form is grotesque. The abdomen swells as though heavy with child, swaying with every lurching step, yet the throat is as narrow as the eye of a needle. They reach for whatever their hands can find and carry it to their mouths, but the moment anything passes between their teeth, it is said to transform into flame. The more they eat, the more they burn; the more they burn, the deeper the hunger grows.

It is also said that the Agwi wander the edges of the human world. Even now, rumors persist that their breath can be felt in the corners of kitchens, beside abandoned offering tables, next to empty bowls still faintly scented with food. When they draw near, food spoils without cause, and those who have eaten their fill are seized by a hollow, inexplicable hunger.

On the fifteenth day of the seventh lunar month — Baekjung — temples hold the Ullambana rite, setting out food as an offering to the Agwi. The belief holds that on this one day, their throats open wide enough to receive what is given. It is the single day when those who remember a life of withholding are permitted, at last, to catch their breath.

The rumors add one quiet, unsettling note: among the living, too, there are those whose eyes are utterly vacant, those who eat and eat and are never satisfied. Whether they are already walking the path of the Hungry Ghosts, or whether an Agwi has taken up residence within their belly, no one has ever been able to say for certain.