Hiro finally found his feet and turned to run—looking back one final time. Kayako’s face was in his, her mouth open so long and unnatural, jaw stretched to breaking point, her wide eyes staring hellishly into his. She gripped his head and dragged him back into the house, the door slamming shut behind him.
Yua had meant a lot to Tadashi—and he had heard about these so-called cults being set up—worshipping J-Horror spirits and some even trying to conjure one up. Yet he had no idea until now, that one was not too far from him... and Yua had been involved. Tadashi knew the films of course—he preferred those kind of slow burn, under-the-skin horrors, as opposed to blood and guts, and loved a good jump scare. But this was all too real.
As he stood in the white starkness of the morgue, head down solemnly, explaining to the morgue assistant that it was indeed his father’s twisted body, he shivered. It wasn’t the fact that his dad’s broken bones and lopped head were the most unsettling—it was the jaw open wide and the eyes staring in abject terror. This was not a typical murder—the fact there had been no witnesses and no fingerprints or no murder weapon, made Tadashi even more determined to solve the case.
Tadashi left the morgue as quickly as possible—he didn’t like those places at all. He would mourn the death of Hiro after and follow in his father’s footsteps to make him proud. He straightened his dark blue tie, sorted his blue suit and brushed a hand through his dyed blonde hair. He sniffed, trying to hold back the tears. His phone suddenly vibrated in his trouser pocket, making him jump. Tadashi looked at the caller ID, not believing what he was seeing. It was his dad’s name.
It took him several moments to compose himself before Tadashi answered. “Hello?”
No answer, but he was aware of heavy breathing on the other end. Then a low, creaky moan that seemed to get louder and louder, before the line went dead. Tadashi did not like this one bit—and decided to visit one of the girls who was Yua’s friend—Sakura—who did not live too far away from him.
Tadashi took his dad’s car and flicked on the headlights. It was just after six but the sky was dark and it felt a lot later. He got a bite to eat from the local takeaway, sipped his coke and felt a bit better. He gripped the steering wheel, trying to shake the image of his dead father out of his mind. Sure, they had had their differences, but they always stood by one another, even more so since his mother had died several years before.
The house came up quicker than he would have liked. Tadashi got out, gun ready for any trouble, torch and knife, just in case. He noticed the house seemed dark—but he rang the doorbell and knocked on the door anyway. He was surprised when it opened by itself onto a dark hallway. Tadashi entered, noticing the evil presence straight away. It was not going to stop him. He had to find out who was behind all these deaths and put a stop for it once and for all.
Tadashi turned into the living room, and noticed the TV was on static, illuminating the room in an eerie light. There were newspaper cuttings strewn around the coffee table, and DVDs of J-Horror films scattered across the carpet. This was definitely one of the houses. He noticed a shadow in the corner of the room—tall, hair black and covering the face. The white dress was mud stained. The person just stood there, not making a sound, making it even more scary.
Tadashi tried to show his bravery. “Come out of the shadows. Show yourself!”
The figure moved so quickly towards him; Tadashi staggered back. He fell onto the sofa, too rigid to move. He turned away and the light flicked on. He turned back and the spirit had gone. Sakura was standing there—not looking very happy. “Tadashi? What the hell are you doing in my house?”
“I... I...” Tadashi stammered, trying to compose himself. “Yua... my father... they are dead. I believe something evil is here and I need to put a stop to it.”
Tadashi half-expected Sakura to laugh, but she looked dead serious. “I believe you. We... There were five of us. We thought it would be a laugh to dress up as these spirits and watch the movies. Then Yua decided to get out a Ouija board and try to contact one of them. Nothing happened for a while. Then the girls all saw the same image of Kayako. Those horrible eyes and that horrible sound... It made us all afraid. There are only three of us left now. Can you help us?”
Tadashi nodded. “What do you want me to do?”
Sakura lowered her head. “The cellar. It started down there.” Tadashi understood. “Okay. Stay here. Stay safe.”
Sakura watched Tadashi go and an evil smile spread across her face. This was the time. This was the time to conjure Kayako.
Tadashi watched his footing as he ascended the wooden stairs to the cellar. He knew what they were like—having put his foot through one in his old house and had to be off school for weeks. He got to the bottom... and that’s when he saw the other two girls. They smiled, and raised a finger to their dry lips.
“What is going...?” but Tadashi never finished his sentence. Something large and club-like smashed into his head and he blacked out.
Tadashi woke to Japanese chanting—the kind he did not know. It sounded old and ancient. The three girls surrounded him, holding hands and moving in a dizzying, disorientating circle. He was tied to a table, naked apart from a pair of shorts. He saw a symbol on the ceiling—had it been carved in blood? The only light was coming from the half dozen candles scattered around.
Not too far from the table, Tadashi could make out a trapdoor, dusty and covered in rust. Small handprints dotted the floor and walls. This was not normal. He tried to break free but the knots were too tight. Sakura approached him and placed a cold finger on his lips.
“Hush now. Don’t struggle. Kayako doesn’t like it when they struggle.”
It was then that the trapdoor slammed open and he saw the scaly white hands first, with sharp, black nails that scraped along the floor. Then the shot of long dark hair, rising from the depths of darkness. Tadashi heard the low moan next—creaky, old, a lot older than the others he had heard. The body came next; thin, pale, and a white dress. Then the white legs and knees as it contortioned its way out of the cellar.
Sakura smiled, seemingly unafraid. “Great Kayako. We offer another soul for you, so your presence can continue to live on. Feast. Feast on Tadashi Miko.”
Then, in a strange set of circumstances, the spirit stopped dead, breathing heavily. A voice—so low and old, croaky like the groan, escaped its foul lips. “Tadashi? Tadashi my son? What have these wicked girls done to you?”
Sakura was as much confused as Tadashi. “Kayako... what do you mean? He is the final one to break you free so you can wander this world.”
“No... Not my son!”
The figure suddenly arched back and rose into the air, spin slowly then faster and faster, as everyone looked on, helpless. Then there was a loud roar as a blue and white light shot out of the mouth and engulfed the room, before darkness.
A while later, Tadashi’s eyes became accustomed to the gloom. The three girls were all sobbing, as obviously the evil presence that had overtook them, had been lifted. The other woman lay on the ground, her long black hair still covering her face. Tadashi had managed to break free of the ropes and walked over to wear the woman lay. Gingerly, Tadashi wiped away the hair. He stumbled back, in shock at what he saw. It was the face of his mother.