Okay, as I’m sure most of you have figured out by simple
math, looking at the top of the page, or actually seeing me, I’m home now. But
through those last few days, I put a lot of focus on picking up the last few
things I needed/wanted, and packing, so I didn't get around to finishing up the
last few blogs. I’ll try to finish them up and put them up soon though.
Continuing on with last blog’s theme, I’ll be sharing a
story I wrote about an interesting Japanese Yokai. For those of you who don’t
know, a Yokai is a Japanese monster or demon that is only ever encountered at
night.
And also as with last time, I’ll explain the traditional
story afterwards. All I did today was go shopping with Okasan, so there isn't
even a story of getting lost to share. As a result, please enjoy the story
below about a Yokai known as Hari-onago.
Keiji stumbled more than a little drunkenly down the
dimly-lit street. Although to him, it didn't seem terribly dim. The white lights
along his path were making his head spin, turning the world around him into a
confusing blur of shadows and flashes of light.
His friends had told him getting drunk was fun, and he had
to admit, it was an interesting sensation. It had certainly made sitting around
in his friend’s rather outdated kitchen belting out old Japanese folk songs far
more entertaining than it would have been otherwise. He was only just now
realizing how difficult it was to navigate the confusing streets of Japan with
impaired senses and compromised brain functions.
A car roared passed, causing Keiji to flounder clumsily back
into an alley, trip over the edge of the sidewalk, and land on his butt. Under
any other circumstances, the fall would have (and probably should have) sent pain
vibrating up his spine. But Keiji’s brain was so occupied with recovering its
sense of equilibrium, the injury barely registered.
For several minutes he sat slurring out half-hearted curses,
feeling far too muddled to summon any real anger before climbing meticulously
to his feet, this simple action taking more concentration than it should have
required. Finally on his feet, he began feeling along the rough, stone wall for
the light switch before remembering he was still outside.
Keiji didn't really know if he was going the right way, but
he found he didn't really care. The alley looked like it may have been the one
that let out on the street near his house, and at that point, the darkness
looked far more appealing than the confusing brightness of the street he’d been
on. Figuring that one dark alley was as good as the next, Keiji began shuffling
along the pavement, scuffing the soles of his sneakers.
He’d made it maybe five sixths of the way when he saw a
figure standing across the road from him. He stopped, wobbling unstably as he
tried to make his eyes focus the way they were supposed to. After a few moments
of squinting, he managed to pick out a few individual details.
The first was that the figure was definitely feminine, a
woman dressed in an elegant white kimono, with a rather girlish pink obi
circling her waist. She looked completely normal, other than her hair was left
down- the hair is worn up when in traditional dress- and it hung dark and
disheveled around her shoulders. At the time, Keiji’s thoughts were still too
inebriated to recognize the oddity of a woman in traditional clothes wandering
around dark alleys at night. Or quite possibly, the wee hours of the morning.
He honestly couldn't remember what time he’d left his friend’s place.
The woman tilted her head at him and hid her hands within
the substantial folds of her sleeves, smiling coyly. Feeling puzzled and
vaguely as though he were doing something wrong, Keiji forced his face into
what he hoped was a quick smile, but what he suspected was probably a drunken
grimace. He might have even been drooling, but he figured that reaching up to
wipe at his mouth by that point would just make the situation even weirder.
The kimono-clad stranger didn't say anything, but her smiled
took on a strange edge that was unidentifiable to Keiji in his current state.
Whatever the edge was, it gave him an odd sensation in his sake-filled gut, and
filled him with the irrational urge to run. She started to walk towards him,
and he could have sworn that her hair was moving, snake-like around her head.
It looked like it had grown longer.
The smile was unsettling, but the creepy writhing hair was
setting off distant warning bells in Keiji’s mind. He wobbled backwards a few
steps, hit the wall, and just stared, the sense that he should be running
nearly overwhelming him.
When a barbed lock of abnormally long hair stabbed into his
upper arm, he knew he’d made a mistake. A sudden wave of intense fear rolled
through him, along with the tide of pain experienced when one is stabbed in the
arm. The emotions managed to wash away some of the haze he’d been wading
through, and in a moment of complete clarity, he yanked the barb out of his
upper arm and sprinted down the alley. A laugh echoed out behind him followed
by the sounds of pursuit.
Wild panic supplying him with energy, Keiji fled down the
alleyway. He’d never been particularly active, and he was cursing that foolish
decision as he sprinted. He made a silent deal that should he survive this
encounter, he would jog every morning without fail. Just please, please, please don’t let me die here!
“Gotcha!” The woman behind him cackled, and a barbed tip
whistled passed his head, embedding itself in a lamppost. He was out of the
alley!
Making a fast left, Keiji made a beeline for his house,
feeling impressed that even with his fuzzy interpretations he’d managed to find
the right alley. Then again, perhaps if he’d taken the wrong alley, he never would
have encountered the demonic woman following him right now.
Keiji pounded up the steps to his front door, dialed in the
code with a speed that shocked even him, and darted inside, slamming the large
wooden door behind him. A moment later, it shook as someone slammed into it
from the other side.
Springing back, Keiji listened to three more thumps before
they inexplicably stopped. Still trembling from adrenaline, he felt relief wash
over him. Somehow, he’d survived. He was going to live. He would see his
friends again. He’d probably never drink again- not in this lifetime anyway-
but he’d be okay.
Keiji kicked off his shoes and went to go bandage his arm.
~
It was two in the morning when Keiji finally climbed the
stairs and started down the dark hall for his bedroom. Some of his previous
tipsy symptoms had returned while he’d been wrapping his wound in gauze, and as
a result the bandage was coming undone, but he was too tired to care.
A few steps away from his bedroom door, he felt something
sharp brush his injured arm, and a voice said, “Keiji, dear, you made a valiant
effort, but you forgot to lock the door.”
Okay, I tried. I think I got mixed results, but I’m just
going to leave it.
Hari-onago almost literally means “hook girl”. She is a
Yokai known for the barbed hooks found at the end of her hair, which she uses
to tear apart her prey before eating it. This prey consists mainly of young men
they find walking alone. The Hair-onago will smile coyly and if the man should
smile back, she will attack him with the barbed ends of her hair.
Then the tearing and eating will occur.
Most people don’t survive this, however, it is theoretically
possible to escape if you run fast, aren't far from home and have a sturdy gate
or door. As we can all see how Keiji met his end, I’d recommend also locking
this door or gate as well.
If you can keep them out all night, they will vanish come
day. If that happens, all that will remain will be deep scratches and gouges on
the outside of the door or gate.
Just because the memory wasn't quite terrifying enough.
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