It was dark, everything around her was impossibly dark, even with her eyes adjusting to her surroundings, she still was unsure of where to go—being in a place that was so unfamiliar made it increasingly difficult as she groped the cave wall nearby to keep herself from running into one of her pursuers or running into an object. It didn’t help matters that she was underground in a system of labyrinth-like tunnels with twists and turns that could easily disorient a person. All the while the heavy smell of damp earth filled her nose.
She had a small flashlight in the back pocket of her jeans, but she knew that using it would risk her chances of being caught, and that was the last thing she wanted.
Being caught meant one thing.
Certain death.
Biting her bottom lip, the woman grasped her notebook closer to her chest. She had been wandering through these tunnels for what felt like days even though it had been only under an hour, if she were to go by what her wristwatch was saying.
Her dark brown eyes looked down at her notebook. Originally, she came to this accursed place trying to locate a close friend. But now, all of that seemed minuscule in comparison to what she had discovered in this village. A dark truth that no one was even remotely aware of. If she could get this out to the public. Then perhaps, those who lost their lives here would finally find peace.
That is if anyone were to believe the information at all.
Even now a part of her still didn’t.
After everything she had seen and discovered while searching for clues, she still couldn’t believe it. Even though the evidence was clear as day when she saw it for herself.
The disappearances, the stories of a demon in this village spiriting people away and why no one, absolutely no one, was remotely interested in finding out the truth or pretending that nothing happened, be it out of fear or not caring as it didn’t affect them personally.
However, as she dug deeper for more information, trying to find the truth, it didn’t surprise her in the least given her work as a journalist. People always had something to hide and would do everything to keep it that way. It infuriated her. Just how many more people had to die, go missing, or be spirited away until it all came to an end?
Now it came down to revealing this to those who would listen.
If she could get out of here alive that is.
“Ai…” she whispered to herself as she fought back the tears of sudden regret, the catalyst that started it all in the first place. Ai, I’m so sorry. In the end, I could never find you. Perhaps, one day. But that’s not today…
Her thoughts soon came apart, when she heard a sound, her head snapping up, eyes growing wide. A sound that filled her with absolute dread. The sound of something squeaking, like rusted hinges on an old door. To the unaware, it would only be seen as a faint annoyance.
But she knew better.
The sound echoed around her, scratching at her eardrums as if to call out to her, like a demon to its prey. It was almost mocking, even. That no matter where she went, that sound, that monster, wouldn’t be too far behind.
For a split-second fear encapsulated in her mind as a feeling of knowing dread crawled over her like a spider creeping up her skin. Her teeth chattered as she brought a hand around her mouth. She needed to be quiet. If she was too loud it would make it easier for them to find her.
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No, not them, him.
If he were to find her then death was all that awaited her.
Thankfully, the sound was still far off, allowing her to further the distance between them. Clamping her lips into a thin line, she steeled herself before silently moving as quickly as her tired feet could carry her.
Her clothing was covered in dirt, and her long black hair which matched with the inky darkness that surrounded her was now matted with blood from a blow to the head by a man who, at first glance, seemed trustworthy. But soon revealed his true colours, when she kept searching for clues about her friend and soon found signs of something far worse. In truth, she should have seen it coming. Yet thankfully, with his arrogant ego and twisted desires, he did not bother to take away any of her belongings. It was why she was able to escape from a cell she was locked away in, managing to free herself by lockpicking the old metal lock with a bobby pin that she always kept in her pocket. Something she learned on the job as a freelance journalist from a yakuza turned informant. It was something, that if she were to get out of here alive, she would have to thank him for.
Her lungs burned from running nonstop as she began to see a faint light in the distance. Upon reaching it, she realized it was candlelight, and it led to an opening that was for an underground room. Almost the size of a medium apartment in Tokyo. With amenities for someone to live here for a rather long time.
There was a futon, a type of bed typically seen on a tatami floor, but here it was on a Nagano bed frame, made of tatami and what looked to be high-quality wood. Nearby there were several chests of drawers of clothing. Kimonos, she vaguely was aware of, as well as a zataku, a low table like a kotatsu, with several cushions to sit on. A dividing screen with a wooden tub to bathe, and a Japanese Shosai-Ki Writing Desk that looked to be from the Meiji Era, given the style and detailed carving of the wood as well as a matching bookshelf crammed with an assortment of books and scrolls.
They all looked centuries old. Almost as if they would crumble into dust if she were to touch any of them.
But it mattered little to her right now. From what she could tell none of this looked remotely familiar. It made her feel a bit relieved, for this meant she was not going around in circles. A good sign.
If only it could stay that way.
As she looked around her new surroundings, her ears constantly remained on high alert, listening to every sound she could hear. She was about to look for a doorway, or an exit to another area in these tunnels when something crossed in her line of sight.
An old photograph.
She wouldn’t have noticed it, if it wasn’t for who was in the photo itself. More evidence that could be used in the long run. Taking it, she placed it in her notebook.
When she realized that those in this village were becoming aware of her actions, in her search for her friend, she had taken a precaution. Leaving several of her notes hidden in areas that others, like her, would find. So that if she were not able to escape, then at least, her notes would be of use to others who may be trapped like she was now.
Yet it was because of this one tiny distraction that would lead to her downfall.
For the sound had returned.
It was closer than before. Right on top of her, he was closer. Her gaze darted about, trying to find an exit or somewhere to hide, but there was none. She was trapped with nowhere to go. And soon he was right behind her. She saw his shadow, looming over her as the sound once again scratched at her eardrums like nails on a chalkboard.
There was no way out, even if she tried to run her exhaustion wouldn’t let her get far.
Taking her journal, she placed it underneath a scroll on top of a nearby wooden dresser that she was standing in front of. She could only hope that he wouldn’t find it, or at least, if someone did, then it would be an outsider. And then maybe, just maybe, that person could get out of here alive.
She would not survive. Her soul was content with that reality, much better off knowing than allowing the fear which had enveloped her only moments before. If she were to die. Then it would be looking at the monster that was the cause of all this.
With one final breath, she turned to face it. At the being that was no longer human, but that of a doll. Or perhaps calling this a demon was better. Either way, she would engrain this image in her mind’s eye, and remember it even in death.
She would not allow herself to forget.
And as the candles began to die out around her one by one, one last thing came to mind.
Ai, if I were to ever see you again. Then let it be in the next life. Even if, I become nothing more than a doll…
Those were her last thoughts as she was shrouded in darkness as the faint sound of that same squeaking creak could be heard before all returned to deafening silence…