Month: June 2018

Ride paddies in the Chuubu countryside

My first post in my WIP Hell series will be my least developed story: a Japanese-style ghost story set in the countryside of the Chuubu (west-central) area of Japan. It’s unnamed as of yet.

Influence:

Graveyard (photo taken through a train window)

The idea for this story came from a family trip to Japan. We took a local train from Tokyo to the Edo-era town of Takayama, which is vastly different from taking the Shinkansen or other JR lines. We encountered a rain storm during the 3 hour train ride, and mixed with the endless rice paddies and family/community graveyards and shrines that dotted the countryside, it became a spooky ride.

That, and the endless Tokyo Ghoul posters plastered all over Tokyo already had my imagination running.

Summary:

I wanted stay true to the underlying theme of most Japanese horror stories wherein the ghost has a purpose and backstory, and they’re just not around to scare the pants off of you. After meeting the ghost in this novel, Takuya starts noticing there’s something ‘off’ about this tiny little farming village he can’t seem to escape. The more layers he pulls back, the more complicated the story becomes. Just when he thinks he’s figured out the identity of the ghost and what happened to her, someone or something throws a wrench into the mix and he’s back at square one. All he wants to do is sell the family business and move to Tokyo, but he can’t do so until he can get the ghost to bugger off.

Excerpt:

Takuya turned a corner in the village and the long road running between the patty fields called to him. Takuya took off at a run. He ran until his lungs hurt, until his legs burned. He stopped only when a sharp clap of thunder startled him.

In the distance, the blue streak of the Shinkansen passed by on a track without a sound.

Cold heavy raindrops hit his head and shoulders. They cut through his clothing and burned his skin.

He turned his face to the dark heavens and flinched as a raindrop hit him square between the eyes. “Seriously?” This crap about the Woman in the Rain was just an urban legend. Japan, he found, lived on superstitions and old wives tales.

He turned on a heel and stopped. A curtain of pouring rain had swallowed the village and cloaked the sharp-peaked roofs in grey. The air grew oddly still. Something in that nothingness rumbled and it took him several moments to realize the sound was millions of raindrops assaulting the asphalt road.

“Damn it.” He took a chest-heaving sigh and closed his eyes. Seconds later, the veil of water hit him like a cols slap. Within the same amount of time, he was drenched.

His feet had become heavy as he forced himself to trudge back to the village. Puddles had already formed on the old road and he didn’t bother avoiding them. With each step, his shoes made a slosh-slosh sound.

Another sound echoed his soggy footfalls. Not another person on the road. More like a shuffling, like someone dragging a heavy sack behind them.

He glanced over his shoulder but saw only grey rain and wet road.

He harrumphed and continued down the road. A warm bath and hot cup of tea would—

The dragging sound again. Closer this time. He frowned and turned but again saw nothing.

His steps quickened now, slosh-sloshing down the wet road in the direction of the closest house; old man Hayashi. It didn’t matter if the crotchety old man wouldn’t be happy to see him. His house meant sanctuary from—

The sound again. Right behind him. So loud he hunkered down. Takuya spun around in time to see a darker shade among the rain, like a dog-sized slug with short stubby legs. It skittered into the grey nothingness hidden by the rain.

A grumble oozed from the last location of the creature and his heart leapt into his throat. Rational thought left him and Tayuka broke into a run towards any safety he could find. Urban legend or no, something lurked there in the rain and he wanted nothing to do with it.

As he ran, something sloshed after him punctuated by a harsh dragging. As he ran, the sloshinggrew closer and closer. Right on his heels.

Will I publish it?

Likely not. Right now the story is a collection of half a dozen scenes, mostly the scary scenes I thought up during the train ride, or in the downtimes in our ryokan. Of all my “Hey, this is a good idea” stories, its my most developed, but no where near being publishable. It’s a fun story to pick up when I need a chill to tickle my spine.