To give context to the story, it might be better to listen to the song first.

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"So what happened here?" says Det. Lan to his colleague Det. Connors.

"Not much of it is known until now—the driver. Mr. Evans and his two friends are college students from Melbourne, rich kids, and came during spring break to this area for holidays. Let me see," says Connors rubbing his temple while looking at another report, "Mr. Song, the owner of the camping site, says that the kids abandoned the premise in the middle of the night without paying for the barbecue supplies. So he called the police and..."

While checking another paper, he continues.

 "officer Nicholson, aka, the young lad whimpering behind the willow tree," says James mockingly, signaling a terrified guy crouching at his legs nearby. 

"He says that he was on duty. He followed a car matching the description, but despite his warnings, the kids refused to stop and continued driving at 90 miles per hour. Finally, after 20 minutes of intensive chase, the car with the kids lost control, and now we have two dead kids, one in the hospital and a traumatized officer."

"Shit," says Det. Lan Yuan," but I don't understand. I am on holiday. So why did you bring me here?"

Det. James Connors furrows his brow and locks his blue eyes with his friend and says in a severe tone, "because before they took the last living kid to the hospital, he declared that the ghost of Waltzing Mathilda followed them. His friend Mr. Alban went to fetch some water but found the apparition, and it tried to murder them."

"And?" says

"And? Ah- Yuan, You are a Chinese police officer, and you know about Chinese medicine, and supernatural creatures and mystic stuff," says James.

Lan Yuan yelled agitatedly, "I am a coroner, my family practiced traditional medicine and stuff, but coroners are forensic scientists" he humped and crossed his arms without looking at Connors. "Plus, don't use my nickname in public so casually."

Connors laughs

Yuan was a bit red, but he finally sighed, "but in any case, let's go to that camping site and take a look at the evidence there and tell officer Nicholson to stay in that place without moving an inch..."

"Why?" asked James

Yuan shrugged. "Precaution..."

Despite the problems, the view of the forest and the coast was truly breathtaking. Green and blue colors almost melt before a small light yellow line. Connors quietly looked at his friend, his calm demeanor contrasted with his hardened hazel eyes. His lips formed a coil smile as his eyes landed on his neck and denounced, "For a man that says he is above superstition, you still use that charm of yours."

Ah-Yuan smiled, his eyes lost in reminiscence. "He remembers when we met," he thought, and, touching his necklace, he said proudly, "It is my dad's gift." He reclined his seat and moved his legs to accommodate his big frame in the passenger seat. When he left his home, his father gave him a necklace that had a tiny glass bottle with a small, enchanted parchment.

Connors said, "Actually, I just invited you because I wanted to show you this forest and this view of the ocean before you spend the rest of your holidays on the beach."

Both of them laugh.

They stopped the car at the campsite, and a skinny man with deep eagle brown eyes and dark skin approached. They explain to Mr. Song what happened, and he looked down at the small pebbles. then he said, "How can I help?"

"Could you guide us to the area where they were camping?"

Mr. Song nods and signals them to follow him. As they enter, they make their way through the deeper vegetation, and the sun rays start to disappear behind the canopy of the trees. Connors asked, "Do you believe in ghosts, Mr. Song?"

"Not really, but when I was a kid before I arrived here, my grandma told me stories about the forest, the times before the war, and the spirits that lived there. However, not much is left from the forest, much less of the spirits," says Mr. Song. 

He stops and signals at the clearing, "they were supposed to camp here but decided to go further. I don't know what they saw then" he waved them goodbye and left them to continue alone.

They walked down the path and followed until they found the remains of a campfire and moved ground to place a big tent. They looked around and got nothing suspicious. Finally, Connors said, "the witness said their friend went to fetch water so let's look at the river" Ah-Yuan nodded, and they walked a bit more following the sound of running water.

Soon they found a creek and approached the shore. Again, they saw nothing strange until they walked a bit more towards a rock formation. A single white rock with barely readable letters was on the bottom. Yuan's eyes widened. "A funerary stone."

They started to look around. Then Connors tripped, fell into the creek, and hurt his head with a rock. Yuan screeched and ran after him. After pulling him out of the water, he found himself observed by a small, humped figure. His small eyes, dark skin, and ashen hair reminded him of the old warriors in action films, but the most prominent feature on the crouched swagman was the red-stained shirt and big hole in the chest.

The apparition approached, "You disturbed my sleep, but you can still save three lives now if you answer three questions."

Ah, Yuan nodded, clutching his unconscious friend's hand. Then, the ghost asked, "What is the color of humans?"

Yuan looked at the ghost. What kind of question is that? His friend is a bit white, but living near the ocean made his skin tanned. He was a bit olive-skinned. The swagman was dark-skinned. But that is just the color of skin. He has seen more than the skin. He knows their complex muscles, bones, brains, and blood. No matter how you looked outside, under the skin, everyone had the same colors. Yuan answered, "Red."

The ghost sat and pointed at his chest. "How did I die?"

The wound in the chest was consistent with a rifle. However, the legend said the swagman killed himself defiantly. Try to kill yourself by pointing a rifle at your chest and pulling the trigger. The charges were strange too, a man that took a sheep and ran out? Yeah, sure. More like a poor immigrant worker unpaid, Yuan sighed and said, "wrongly and mercilessly."

The ghost howled and looked into his eyes. "What happened to my enemies?"

The legend started more than a century ago. A Yuan looked at him and said, "They are dead."

"Wrong!!!!!" the ghost screamed, and his empty eye sockets became red. Then, he jumped at Yuan and started to strangle him.

His hatred was too big. Too far gone from pain and suffering. He should have realized that the ghost was not going to let them live. Before everything vanished, Yuan felt an intense light coming from his neck. He smiled as the spirit started to scream in pain. Everything faded.

Yuan felt water on his face and started to become aware of his surroundings, but before he can blink, a mouth was on his. He jolted and pushed James making him fall on his back.

"I woke up, and you were so pale that I thought you died. I was trying reanimation. What happened, and why is your neck burnt?" said James before helping Yuan stand up.

He winked and said, "Didn't you say that as a Chinese, I know about the occult and stuff."

James crossed his arm, and Yuan said, "Come on. Let's go home. I will tell you if you buy me dinner".

A week later, a phone rang, and a man with brown eyes and white hair took the phone. A happy and bratty voice on the other side said, "Dad. I am going home. I miss you all".

"Mmmm"

"And tell Master Wei thank you," said Yuan

"Tell him yourself. He keeps asking when you will be back," said the other on the phone.

He hanged up the phone and headed to the airport's control while saying goodbye to Connors and Nicholson.

The white room of the hospital smells like antiseptic, but that's how it should smell in a burn unit. The nurse is calmly taking out the bandages of the injured man while saying, "Although we couldn't save your friends, the doctor was able to intervene on time and help you. So, despite the injuries and burned skin in the body and face, you can see that only a few small scars are left after the reconstruction surgeries and skin implants. So, have a good look at the mirror".

The only figure in the mirror was a man with small eyes, dark skin, and ashen hair. The boy screamed.

Note to the reader: willow trees are associated with a brook or river, that is, with a perpetual source of nourishment and supply. It symbolizes flexibility and adaptability, fertility, creativity, inspiration, protection, strength, healing, love, and emotions.

second note: this story was created for a contest about ghost stories