Cheuksin: The Chilling Tale of Korea’s Outhouse Goddess

It’s that time of year again when costumes are selling out, leaving every ghost, zombie, and vampire with no need to camouflage. What have you decided to dress up as this year? Maybe this Korean ‘goddess’ will give you some inspiration. Or, if you’re looking to get your heart pumping, we have the perfect story for you, though you may be scared to use the bathroom afterwards. Hm, it’s getting a little bit chilly in here already, don’t you think?

Halloween is calling, but before you scream, we’d like to share potentially the scariest Korean myth of them all. Let’s get into it, shall we?

Cheuksin (Outhouse Goddess)

Photo: AI-generated*

Outhouses are uncomfortable, often grimy, environments, but the addition of a myth makes it just that more haunting. Goddesses are thought to be inviting, protective creatures unseen by our busy world. But no one tells you about their cruel rules and coldblooded heart when you don’t obey.

No, we’re not talking about some omegaverse moon goddess who burns the mark of an unfated mate. It’s much crueler than that. Instead, it’s the banished deity who never escaped her outhouse. Why she is a goddess and not your average ghost is unknown. However, others believe she is also the goddess of legal punishment, and you’ll find out why at the end.

Typically female and known as Cheuksin (척신), this goddess goes back to ancient times when traditional outhouses were the most common toilets. It’s said she was a young virgin (because when are they not?) who was exiled by her own kind, the almighty deity Cheonjiwang Bonpuri (천지왕본풀이) and the goddess of fire, hearth, and kitchens Jowangsin (조왕신).

She is said to be most active on the dates with ‘six’ in them, so the sixth, sixteenth, and twenty-sixth of each month. During those days, it was thought she might become even more brutal for an unknown reason, so citizens avoided outhouses. Instead, they held a Korean ceremony called jesa (제사). These were also held when an outhouse was built, when a shoe or child fell into the pit toilet, when a pig died of disease, or when it was thought that Cheuksin was angry due to prophecy.

While this is not often practiced nowadays, it used to be a popular ritual on an ancestors’ anniversary or a worshiping of a specific deity. People would offer fresh fruit, meat, fish, and wine, and place a shrine or memorial tablet to appease their ancestors. However, the goddess was served dung rice cake that was thought to banish evil spirits.

With long hair like Rapunzel, but dark like the pits of hell, Cheuksin spent her time counting her hairs until a stranger shocked her with their unannounced entry. Scared and enraged, she would wait until her victim was at their most vulnerable before wrapping her locks around their neck and strangling them to death. If the person somehow escaped or her hair touched their skin, her victim would face illness like no other; diseases so bad that even a shaman could not save them.

However, you wouldn’t be able to spot her as you entered the outhouse. Looking up, you would see nothing but a white strip of cloth or paper on the ceiling. But once you looked away, Cheuksin would appear, hovering over you until she was ready to act on her plan. She is thought to be one of the most hostile goddesses in existence, but every creature offers the chance of survival.

Cheuksin just didn’t want to be seen by others. She was embarrassed, shy, unlike her superiors. It doesn’t matter which outhouse you approached, she would find you. But if you coughed three times before entering, she would spare your life. However, if you brought something out of the outhouse into the kitchen, because of her ongoing battle with Jowangsin, you may also suffer from sickness and, eventually, death.

Unless you were a child. Then there was no escape. Cheuskin despised children. This was because of the Jeju myth Munjeon Bonpuri (문전본풀이, Annals of the Door) where deities protect the home. In an ancient kingdom, a husband and wife lived poorly with their seven children. The wife was the breadwinner of the family, but her husband would spend their money as soon as they earned it. She soon had the idea of selling grain, cheap in their village but expensive in others, to get out of poverty. Her husband agreed and set off to another village, making himself look wealthy.

Unfortunately, the husband fell into bad habits once a stranger offered for him to stay in a family-owned jumak (주막, tavern or inn). He sold all his goods and grains for rice wine and games, leading to poverty once again. He was forced to build a hut from rice stalks, a door from rotten wood, and was fed harsh grain from the stranger, which caused him to go blind. His wife started to worry about his absence and built a small, wooden boat to find him.

Upon arrival, she heard a girl singing a rhyme about her husband, and the wife was able to track him. Because he could no longer see, he didn’t believe it was her, but he soon realized who she was after tasting her food. As they prepared to go home, the stranger got wind of the news and invited the wife to, unbeknownst to her, drown in an icy lake with no floor. The stranger then pretended to be the wife, not realizing the family was actually poor.

Six of the children believed the stranger was their mother. However, the seventh child Nokdisaengin (녹디생인), saw discrepancies her siblings could not. She noticed her umbrella, appearance, and voice were completely different, but after raising concern, the stranger fooled her newfound children with excuses. She then made it her mission to kill the seventh child.

The stranger pretended to be sick, leaving her ‘husband’ to find a famous, yet non-existent, prophet who could help. Once he found them, who was actually his ‘wife’ in disguise, he was told the cure was to consume Nokdisaengin’s liver. The father refused, but she tried again and again until he finally agreed. Though, his child found out and formulated a plan to ‘commit suicide’ instead. However, all the children fled to a nearby mountain and killed a young boar. Nokdisaengin said if their ‘mother’ was cured after eating it, then she wasn’t really their mother.

Of course, the ‘wife’ claimed to have been cured and then planned to kill the sixth son. Though, she didn’t know the seventh was still alive until they confronted her. Embarrassed, she hanged herself in the bathroom. The children prayed to the deities for their mother, but only her bones appeared. Nokdisaengin was told their mother could be revived in the fields of Seocheon (서천) in exchange for seven carps as food. The seventh child was given the magical flower that would revive their mother, and soon, she started to grow flesh, running blood, and a beating heart.

As she let out her first breath, she was deemed Jowangsin, goddess of the fire, hearth, and kitchen, opposite to her death, Her husband became an evil spirit, and five of their children became deities. The sixth became the ‘guard of the back door’, whereas Nokdisaengin became the ‘guard of the front door’. But it wouldn’t be an urban myth without a spooky ending. The stranger became the outhouse goddess Cheuksin. This legend is so prominent that it has shaped (literally) how Koreans configure their homes. Now, it is a taboo to have a bathroom next to the kitchen or facing it. But what do you think about this scary tale?

We’re all vulnerable when trying to do our business, locked in a small space, reflexes of a snail, and now a guest looking down upon us as they wait to kill? No, thank you, I’ll pass. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to use the bathroom. See you next month for another story…or will I?

*We have utilized AI technology for the purpose of this article, meaning there may be some slight imperfections within the imagery.