Nimisha Shrestha
The paranormal is often described as an unfamiliar and unsettling idea—one that people struggle to fully accept or reject. Some dismiss it entirely and keep their distance, while others are drawn to it, curious to understand what lies beyond logic and reason. Stories of paranormal activity frequently appear in popular culture, folklore, and non-scientific traditions—realms that exist outside conventional scientific explanation. Movies like The Ring and Ju-On, books such as Goosebumps and Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, and even television series like The X-Files have kept the idea of the supernatural alive in people’s minds. Such portrayals have especially influenced teenagers, many of whom secretly hope to encounter something unexplained themselves. They explore abandoned houses, remote shrines, and even go ghost hunting in search of a thrill.
Two such teenagers were Heiri and Saeki, classmates who were tired of endless maths problems and science homework. They lived in Japan, a country rich with folklore, legends, and ghost stories passed down for generations. In Hokkaido, a region known for its eerie beauty, there was no shortage of haunted places—shrines like the abandoned Toyohira Shrine were whispered about for strange sightings and unexplained noises. Just the night before, the boys had watched a horror news segment online about the Aokigahara Forest, where visitors claimed to hear voices calling out to them. Ghost tourism—visiting haunted sites—had recently become popular, especially during summer, with places like abandoned hospitals and old villages attracting curious visitors. Many believed that spirits were more active during the hottest months, when the boundary between worlds grew thin.
Heiri and Saeki were close friends, but their beliefs about the paranormal could not have been more different. Heiri firmly believed that spirits existed, including kind ones—souls of loved ones watching over the living. Saeki, on the other hand, found the idea absurd. Still, he kept his opinions to himself, unwilling to risk their friendship over a difference in belief. So when Heiri excitedly asked if he would come along to Sinkaro Prefecture, Saeki sighed and replied in a tired voice,
“Sure… let’s go find a witch.”
The plan was simple: once summer break began, they would visit a supposedly haunted house on the outskirts of a deserted village.
It was the summer of 2005, and excitement buzzed through them as they packed quietly, making sure their parents wouldn’t notice. Saeki, ever the practical one, packed bandages, medical supplies, a pocketknife, and pepper spray—just in case something went wrong. Heiri filled his bag with ghost-hunting equipment: an EMF reader, night-vision goggles, radio scanners, and a voice recorder. They agreed to meet at the bus stop before dawn.
When they finally arrived at Sinkaro Village, a sudden chill ran down both boys’ spines. Not a single person was in sight. The air was unnaturally still, broken only by the creak of loose wooden boards swaying in the wind. Dust coated the ground, weeds burst through cracked pathways, and broken windows stared back at them like empty eyes. It felt as if time itself had abandoned the place years ago.
At the entrance of an old hut, Heiri dropped his bag and began observing the surroundings. Torn prayer papers fluttered weakly, and scratch marks covered the doorframe. Inside, furniture lay overturned, walls were stained with damp patches, and a faint smell of rot lingered in the air. Heiri pulled out the EMF meter and handed the recorder to Saeki.
“Keep this on,” he said quietly.
Saeki hesitated, shooting Heiri a doubtful look.
“Are you sure about this?” he whispered.
Heiri smiled nervously. “Relax. It’s probably nothing.”
Saeki sighed. “You better be right.”
They moved through the house, room by room. Floors creaked under their weight, cobwebs brushed against their faces, and shadows stretched unnaturally along the walls. In one room, broken mirrors reflected their nervous expressions; in another, torn curtains danced though there was no wind.
Later, the boys sat side by side, replaying the footage they had captured. Heiri frowned in disappointment, but Saeki leaned closer, his eyes fixed on the screen.
“Wait… did you see that?” Saeki whispered. “Pause it.”
The frozen frame showed a faint, translucent figure peering from behind a corner—its outline barely visible, yet unmistakably human. Heiri’s breath caught in his throat, the hair on his arms standing on end. Saeki felt the blood drain from his face.
“That’s not… that’s not real,” Saeki said shakily.
“We need to leave,” he added immediately. “Now.”
Before Heiri could respond, Saeki began shoving equipment back into their bags, pulling Heiri toward the exit. Just then, a loud crash echoed through the house. Heiri instinctively turned, curiosity tugging at him, but Saeki refused to slow down. As they ran, Saeki suddenly cried out in pain and collapsed.
“What happened? Are you hurt?” Heiri asked urgently.
Saeki groaned, clutching his back. Heiri lifted his shirt and froze. Three long, claw-like marks ran across Saeki’s skin—not deep, but sharp enough to burn fear into Heiri’s chest. The sight sent a surge of panic through him. Without thinking, he helped Saeki up, and together they stumbled out of the house.
Outside, the breeze felt gentle and calm, as though the forest itself was trying to soothe them. Before leaving, both boys whispered a prayer, hoping whatever lived in that house would not follow them home. They walked away in silence.
“Can I stay over at your place tonight?” Saeki asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Heiri replied. “Of course.”
That night, both boys were lost in thought. Saeki, who had never believed in the paranormal, could no longer deny what he had seen—or felt. The marks on his back were real. His beliefs had been shaken. Heiri, meanwhile, felt a strange mix of excitement and fear. The encounter had proven him right, yet it also left him uneasy.
“Well,” Heiri said softly, “want to play video games to forget all this?”
“Sure,” Saeki replied, forcing a weak smile. “But we are not playing a horror game after that.”
Heiri chuckled lightly. “Deal. Let’s keep things normal—for now.”
The two boys spent the rest of the evening gaming, the house filled with laughter once more. It was a peaceful ending—but one night had permanently altered what they believed was real.
