I knew this vacation was going to be sick. Tokyo. A neon-lit paradise of gaming, sushi, and the wildest tech you could imagine. I was here with my cousins—Aki, Jin, and the ever-annoying Kenji—ready to have the time of our lives.
We spent our first few days hitting up Akihabara, drowning in arcade games, stuffing our faces with takoyaki, and buying way too much anime merch. Everything was perfect. But then Jin, always craving the next big thrill, decided we needed something more exciting.
“Guys, check this out,” he said, shoving his phone in our faces. On the screen was some sketchy website talking about a hidden shrine deep in the outskirts of Tokyo. According to local legend, a powerful sorcerer once used it for forbidden rituals. Some say he never really died—his spirit still lurks, waiting for unsuspecting visitors to enter.
“No way,” Kenji scoffed, crossing his arms. “That’s just another dumb internet hoax.”
Aki, ever the skeptic, shrugged. “Could be fake. But what if it isn’t?”
That was enough for Jin. “Only one way to find out. Let’s go.”
I didn’t like it. There was something off about the whole idea. But I wasn’t about to be the only coward in the group. So, against my better judgment, we hopped on a late-night train and made our way to the outskirts of the city.
By the time we arrived, the modern buildings had given way to narrow streets lined with old wooden houses, their paper windows glowing faintly in the darkness. The air smelled different here—earthy, damp, and strangely metallic. Even though it was summer, a strange chill clung to the air.
We followed the directions from the website, winding through alleys and up a steep, overgrown path leading into the woods. Every step we took seemed to pull us further from civilization, the city lights disappearing behind the thick trees.
Then, we found it.
The shrine was barely standing. Its wooden frame was cracked and rotting, the roof half-collapsed. Vines snaked around the structure, suffocating it. Faded paper talismans, covered in ancient kanji, clung to the walls, fluttering slightly despite the still air.
“Creepy as hell,” Aki muttered.
Kenji rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. We came, we saw, let’s go.”
Jin smirked. “Not so fast. We need proof we were here.” He pulled out his phone and switched on the flashlight, stepping forward.
That’s when I heard it.
A whisper. Low. Raspy. Coming from inside the shrine.
My stomach twisted. “Did you hear that?”
Aki frowned. “What?”
Then, the whisper came again. Louder.
“Y o u s e e k m e .”
A gust of freezing air blew through the trees. The paper talismans tore away from the walls, scattering into the night.
And then, from the shadows, he appeared.
Tunko Caviya.
He was hunched, cloaked in black rags that seemed to ripple even though there was no wind. His skin was paper-white, stretched tight over his skull, and his eyes—those eyes—burned red like dying embers.
“You seek the shrine,” he rasped, his voice like dry leaves crunching underfoot. “Then you seek me.”
Kenji laughed nervously. “Uh, no thanks, dude. We were just leaving.”
But it was too late. Tunko raised his bony hand. The air turned ice-cold. I felt something slither into my head, like invisible fingers curling around my thoughts.
“One of you will stay forever.”
I turned to run—but my legs wouldn’t move. My cousins screamed. Jin yanked at me, but I was frozen. Tunko’s mouth twisted into a grin, revealing jagged, yellow teeth.
“You, boy,” he said, pointing a clawed finger at me. “You will be my vessel.”
A dark shadow slithered from his fingers. It curled around me, creeping into my mouth, my nose, my ears. My body seized up, burning and freezing all at once. My vision blurred—
Then, blackness.
I don’t know how long I was out. When I woke up, I was standing outside the shrine. My cousins were gone.
And when I looked at my reflection in a nearby puddle—I saw his face staring back at me.
The twisted, grinning face of Tunko Caviya.
And deep inside my mind, I could hear him laughing.
The laughter echoed in my skull like a thousand broken voices whispering at once. My own reflection—no, his—stared back at me from the rippling puddle. The red ember-like eyes burned into my soul, the mouth curling into a grotesque grin I had no control over. Panic surged through me, but my limbs felt like they were filled with lead.
“Jin? Aki? Kenji?” My voice came out raw, hollow—wrong. The sound of it sent chills down my spine.
Silence. The shrine loomed behind me, shrouded in darkness, its rotten frame groaning under an unseen weight. The talismans had vanished, ripped away by whatever force Tunko Caviya had unleashed. The air smelled of burnt wood and something sickly sweet, like decayed flowers.
I tried to move forward, but my body disobeyed. Instead, I felt my head turn against my will, surveying the world through his eyes. I was a puppet, my strings in his unseen grasp. My hand lifted, my fingers stretching unnaturally long before snapping back into place.
The laughter grew louder.
You are mine now, the voice slithered through my mind. Your body is my vessel. Your friends… well, let’s see how much fun we can have.
“No.” I gritted my teeth, trying to fight back, trying to reclaim my limbs, my voice, myself. “You can’t have me.”
The shadows around the shrine pulsed, deepening into an abyss. It is already done, Tunko whispered. Your friends have fled, but they will return. And when they do, you will bring them to me.
A terrible vision flashed through my mind: Jin, Aki, and Kenji standing at the shrine, their faces frozen in horror as I reached for them, my fingers twisting into talons, their screams cut short as the shadows swallowed them whole.
“No!” I roared, forcing my body to stumble backward. My reflection in the puddle flickered—Tunko’s face snarling, distorting, fighting for control. I gritted my teeth, digging my fingers into the dirt. I will not be your puppet!
A piercing shriek rattled my skull. The shadows recoiled for a fraction of a second. It was all I needed.
I ran.
Branches clawed at my arms as I stumbled through the woods, gasping for breath. The village was nowhere in sight. My feet pounded against the earth, every step feeling like wading through tar. The trees whispered, their voices merging with Tunko’s laughter.
Then—I saw them.
Jin, Aki, and Kenji stood at the edge of the forest, panting, eyes wide with terror. “There he is!” Jin shouted.
They ran toward me, but their expressions twisted into horror the closer they got. Kenji turned pale. Aki clutched Jin’s arm, pulling him back. “No—wait. Something’s wrong.”
I skidded to a stop, suddenly aware of what they were seeing. My hands—longer, thinner, tipped with darkened nails. My shadow—stretched, writhing unnaturally. My breath—visible, curling in the warm night air like smoke.
“Guys, it’s me,” I gasped. “It’s me.”
Jin took a step forward, uncertain. “Prove it.”
I opened my mouth—but before I could speak, a wave of agony crashed over me. My head throbbed, my vision darkened. My limbs twisted as if they were being reshaped like clay. I collapsed to my knees, gripping my skull as Tunko’s voice roared within me. Foolish child! You cannot resist me forever!
Through the haze, I saw Aki move. He yanked something from his pocket—a handful of paper talismans. “Hold him down!” he shouted.
Kenji and Jin hesitated for only a second before lunging. They tackled me to the ground as Aki slapped the talismans onto my arms, my chest, my forehead. The ancient symbols burned like fire, sending sharp tendrils of pain through my skin.
Tunko screamed.
The world shattered. Shadows erupted from my body, writhing and twisting like living snakes, clawing at the talismans. My skin burned, my vision flickered between two realities—the shrine, the woods, an endless black abyss where red eyes burned in the darkness.
No. No. No! Tunko’s voice distorted into a rage-filled wail. You are mine! You cannot—
A final explosion of light burst from the talismans. The shadows recoiled, shrieking, dissolving into the night. A terrible howl echoed through the forest as Tunko Caviya was ripped from my body.
Then—silence.
I gasped for breath. My body was my own again. The twisted reflection was gone. My hands—normal. My shadow—still. The laughter, the whispers—vanished.
Jin, Aki, and Kenji stared at me, their faces pale, eyes wide. “Are you…you?” Kenji whispered.
I swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah.”
We stood there, breathing heavily, the weight of what had just happened settling over us like a thick fog. Then, without a word, we turned and ran—out of the woods, past the silent village, onto the first train back to Tokyo.
We never spoke of that night again. Never returned to the shrine.
But sometimes, late at night, in the silence of my room, I hear it.
A whisper.
Low. Raspy.
You cannot run forever…
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