《Strange》


 Swaying, swaying

    There was a large, nicely shaped cherry blossom tree in the junior high I graduated from.


    There were ghost stories to go with it as well.


    Apparently, ¡°On the night of the first flowering of the season a figure appears swaying in the branches.¡±


    Of course it¡¯s not a living person. Hanging from a tree branch with a rope tied around your neck, there¡¯s no way a person wouldn¡¯t die from that.


    Who is the person hanging from that tree? How did they get there? Well that depends on who you talk to.


    It was a student who failed their tests. It was a student who was bullied. It was a student who was rejected. Or perhaps it wasn¡¯t a student but a teacher. Perhaps it was neither and just someone passing by.


    But whether failing a test, being bullied, being rejected or being tired from work, this person was regardless enchanted by the cherry blossom.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.And so rumours became rumours, speculation became speculation, and the truth became indiscernible from fiction.


    But amongst all those stories there was always one thing in common.


    ¡°I should have stopped I should have stopped I should have stopped I should have stopped.¡±


    The figure whispers while swaying beneath the tree.


    A few years ago I returned to my former junior high school for teaching practice.


    I was intrigued by the story, so in the small hours of the morning I went to visit the tree. There was no reason to get especially close to it. While looking at it in the moonlight from afar I could most definitely see a figure swaying there beneath the tree.


    After that, I never returned.


    But I was absolutely convinced.


    That person, they¡¯re still hanging there.


    ¡°I should have stopped I should have stopped I should have stopped I should have stopped.¡±


    Repeating those words full of regret.


    Probably, even now.


    Most likely, forever.

 Beyond

    The act of sighing is composed of two actions.


    You breathe in. You breathe out. Those two things.


    So.


    This happened while I was in high school. At the time I got my own room on the second floor of the house. It was kind of small but it was the first time I had a space to call my own so I was very pleased with it. I could even lock myself away and study for my tests in there.


    That night I had my textbook for grammar or something open and was preparing for my test the following day.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.Then, ten minutes after I¡¯d begun.


    I¡¯m not the type of person who can focus on studying for long periods of time and had already grown tired of it. I took a deep breathe for what should have become a big sigh.


    As I did,


    ¡°Fuu.¡±


    Something on the other side of the window beat me to it.


    As I stated above, my room is on the second floor, there¡¯s no way anything should have been able to sigh from the other side.


    I got goosebumps and ran from the room.


    And yeah, that¡¯s it. That¡¯s the story.

 In the basin

    Midnight. I woke up and went to the toilet.


    I finished my business and flushed. I wiped my hands on the towel hanging on the wall. I went to close the door.


    Plop. The sound of water.


    Considering the extent of the splash the sound was awfully loud. Was something blocked inside the tank? If so, the next time someone used it could be troublesome. Better to fix it now.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.With the water still running I lifted the lid of the tank. I peered through the small gap.


    There were eyes.


    Our eyes met.


    I silently closed the lid and went back to my room.

 Rattling

    It¡¯s been a month since I moved into my cheap new apartment and I¡¯ve been noticing something.


    Every morning. I haven¡¯t properly checked so I can¡¯t say the exact time, but usually it happens around 4 or 5am.


    There¡¯s something rattling on the road next to the house.


    The sound is very light. Like a hollow piece of metal, a steel pipe being dragged along the road or something.


    It¡¯s a bit slower than the speed of a person walking, rattle, rattle, rattle.


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.It passes without fail every morning.


    You probably wouldn¡¯t hear it if you¡¯re not on the first floor, but even if you did the sound is so small it wouldn¡¯t even disturb your sleep.


    I¡¯ve never actually gone to check what it is.


    All I¡¯d have to do is open the storm shutters and curtains. That would resolve the entire story. I know that.


    But I can¡¯t do it.


    If I look, I feel like in return I¡¯ll be the one who¡¯s seen.


    Rattle. Rattle. Rattle.


    That light thing is again slowly passing down the street today.

 Switch off

    I jumped onto the last train for the night and somehow or another it was past one in the morning by the time I got back to my beloved one room apartment.


    Aahh I¡¯m tired, I muttered to myself and opened the door. My room, which is usually and should have been dark, was faintly lit up.


    I went to see why and the bathroom light was on.


    These days I was so busy that things were kind of all over the place.


    As work time increased sleep time decreased, and with the sadness of being alone there was no one to watch over me. In life and personal matters things just weren¡¯t getting done.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.I¡¯d been leaving my phone behind, forgetting to close the gas valve, not remembering whether I¡¯d locked the windows or not. Forgetting to turn off the light was the worst of all.


    My toilet and bathroom are in the same area so undoubtedly when I left the house in the morning I¡¯d left the light on.


    What a waste of money, I thought to myself. With a pained grin I took off my shoes and took a step inside to turn the light off.


    At that moment. Click.


    The switch made a sound, and the bathroom light turned off.

 Next in line

    There was always white smoke coming off my grandfather¡¯s body.


    Of course he wasn¡¯t actually on fire. There was no heat or smell either.


    I never checked, but I was probably the only one who could see it.


    Anyway.


    My grandfather always came to greet us grandchildren with a big smile, but there was always white smoke coming off his body.


    He was a kind and gentle grandfather, but in my childlike mind I was so terrified of him, I hate going to visit my grandparent¡¯s house.


    When my grandfather died, white smoke started to come off my father¡¯s body.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.Naturally he wasn¡¯t actually on fire. There was no heat or smell either.


    I never checked but perhaps my father was also able to see the smoke that came off my grandfather¡¯s body.


    My father and I started having dinner and drinks together like he and my grandfather did.


    The other day, my father died.


    I realised that white smoke was coming off my body.


    My younger sister¡¯s son, who¡¯s entering elementary school next year, looked at me and started crying that I was on fire.


    Perhaps that child can also see.

 Crowded train

    I was sick.


    In the morning I thought I¡¯d be okay, but by the time second period ended I realised I had a fever.


    I asked my friend to take notes for me and left to go home.


    I arrived at the station just as the train was coming in. Even better it was entirely empty, I¡¯d be able to sit down on my way back.


    Just as I was about to get on I suddenly noticed something. It was the express train. It didn¡¯t stop at my station, so despite the perfect timing I¡¯d have to wait for the next train.


    I went back to the waiting area and as drowsiness took over me I lowered my head. The bell signifying the train was about to depart sounded so far away. I suddenly felt a presence so I looked up.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    I was being watched.


    The train car that just a moment ago was empty was now jam-packed full of people.


    People crammed in standing. People filling the space before the doors. People hanging onto the handles with all their might. Not just people sitting in the chairs opposite me but people on the exit side as well. People above strollers, and people above the luggage racks.


    They were all looking at me.


    They were all concentrating on me.


    The doors closed. The train car started to move and then left the station.


    It was packed to the end of the very last car.


    I could do nothing but silently watch it go.

 Deep regret

    More than the heat I was unable to deal with the humidity any longer so I decided to turn on the air conditioner.


    According to the calendar we were well into autumn but the summer heat was still aggressively lingering. The continuing sweltering hot nights were unbearable, so much that even a poor student such as myself had to take advantage of some of the conveniences of modern civilisation.


    I¡¯m not a big fan of sleeping with the air conditioner on because then my throat hurts, but the lack of sleep was resounding throughout my body. I just wanted to get a good night¡¯s rest.


    I live on the fourth floor so I usually keep just the veranda screen door closed, but for the first time in a while I closed the storm shutters and got ready for a nice, comfortable sleep¡­ at least it should have been.


    A noise roused me.


    Kari. Karikari. Kariri.


    Something was softly yet relentlessly scratching on the veranda.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.Half asleep, I thought it was probably just a bug or something, but I was wrong.


    For some reason I knew this tiny sound wasn¡¯t that at all.


    Karikari. Kariri.


    The sound continued, persevering incessantly.


    It clearly had a purpose. It was trying to get into my room.


    That finally woke me up fully.


    Just what exactly, at this late time of night - and on the fourth floor no less - was scratching at my veranda door?


    I got up from my futon as quietly as possible.


    The noise continued.


    Judging from what I could hear, whatever was scratching was at about knee height.


    Kari. Kari. Kariri.


    The noise didn¡¯t stop. Persistently, persistently it kept on scratching.


    Suddenly I realised something.


    Whatever was scratching out there was so weak that it wasn¡¯t even rattling the storm shutter.


    But even with that little amount of strength, supposing the storm shutter wasn¡¯t blocking it?


    What if tonight it had once again just been the screen door?


    I got goosebumps.


    Then, as though it had heard my thoughts, the sound stopped.


    Instead what I heard was a deep, deep sigh. From the bottom of its heart, a sigh full of regret.


    And with that, silence once more filled the night.

 Cutting nails

    I went to stay at my grandfather¡¯s house in the countryside for New Year¡¯s.


    The train rattled and shook, and by the time we arrived it was already dark.


    A lot of my relatives were already there so we all ate dinner and then I went to wash up and go to bed.


    When morning rolled around and I opened my eyes something felt off. My feet were itchy.


    I looked down and all my toenails had been cut really short.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Mum!¡±


    I call out to my mother who was already awake.


    ¡°Mum, did you cut my nails while I was sleeping?¡±


    She came and let out a soundless scream.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    She kept repeating it over and over while holding me. Tears rolled continuously down her face.


    My aunts and uncles gathered around as well.


    Looks like I¡¯m going to die before my mother.

 Through the window

    It was getting quite late so I picked up the pace.


    As you would expect from the cheap rent my apartment was kinda far from the station. Generally I thought of it as good exercise but after a night of drinking like tonight it was the last thing I wanted to do.


    When I get home shall I shower and then sleep? Or should I just go straight to bed and shower in the morning?


    Pondering such trifling matters as I walked I suddenly felt someone¡¯s gaze upon me.


    I calmly looked around and then recoiled in horror.


    There was a person pressed firmly against the large terrace window of the one story building facing the street.


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.I couldn¡¯t see their expression thanks to the backlighting of the room.


    However I could tell that the black figure was staring right at me.


    Seeing my reaction the figure pressed their body even harder to the glass door. It seemed they would break through it at any moment.


    I recovered from my state of shock and ran.


    I ran with all my might on drunken legs. Somewhere along the way I realised it probably wasn¡¯t such a good idea to run straight home so I dropped by a nearby convenience store for close to an hour and pretended to read some magazines.


    I checked to make sure no one was following me and finally went home. I¡¯d sobered up long before.


    I haven¡¯t used that road since.

 Today, on account of being busy

    I work as a nurse at a certain hospital.


    My job is very busy. Of course this is the career path I chose, but every now and then I have a few complaints.


    In general you can¡¯t predict overtime hours. People¡¯s lives are in my hands, so if something happens I can¡¯t go home and I won¡¯t go home.


    On my days off there are study meetings so I don¡¯t even get the entire day to myself.


    My colleague tells me, ¡°You need to get used to it, you¡¯ve gotta adapt,¡± and is always so calm and composed. They¡¯re not just words. He¡¯s always working longer hours than me, his smile and cheerful atmosphere never fade and he always conducts his work smoothly. I respect him a lot.


    Ah, I got a little off track there.


    And that¡¯s how I spend my days, so when people ask me, ¡°Do you really see ghosts at the hospital?¡± it bothers me. My hands are full with the living, I don¡¯t have enough time to be concerned with matters like that.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.And yet there are events that will stick with me for quite some time.


    Take for instance last month.


    I was moving some necessities to the morgue when suddenly something grabbed my arm.


    Yes, it¡¯s the morgue so of course there¡¯s nobody there but those who¡¯ve already passed away. It was perhaps a moment where you might let out a cute little scream, but on that day I was particularly busy.


    ¡°I¡¯m busy right now so I¡¯ll deal with you later!¡±


    I yelled out at whatever it was in a harsh tone, shook my arm free and returned to work.


    I didn¡¯t think about it again until I crawled into bed that night. I had no words to describe how I felt when I recalled it.


    I said I would deal with them later and then left them hanging there. I really did something awful to whoever that was, didn¡¯t I?

 Thriving business

    A man in a suit called out to me in the crowd.


    An awfully skinny, kinda dirty looking man.


    ¡°Would you like one?¡±


    He leaned in close and whispered to me.


    He was holding a covered bird cage. It appeared he was trying to sell me whatever was inside.


    I tried to brush him off but,


    ¡°Come on, it¡¯ll be very useful,¡± he said and removed the cover.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.In spite of myself I was taken aback.


    The cage was packed tight with snakes. Just how many were in there? They were tangled and intertwined, like a giant snake ball. They were hissing and giving off this grassy-type smell.


    I shook the man off and quickly separated myself from the area.


    Then, on a different day. I saw the same man in the same place.


    He was approaching people left and right, trying to do business with them.


    But what I really couldn¡¯t understand was that somehow, in the distance, I could see only a few snakes left in the cage.

 Hit and run

    Hello, yeah, it¡¯s me.


    I just saw a hit and run, I should call the police, right?


    What do you mean, of course I should? But do you think they¡¯ll even believe me?


    So this scooter just ignored the lights and ran straight out into the intersection. It was real bad timing as a truck was coming and crashed right into him.


    Stolen novel; please report.Then he did like a full turn and a half in the air before falling on the road. Some people called out to him so I think the ambulance will be here soon.


    Huh? No no no! It was the truck that flew up into the air. The scooter just ran off.


    I¡¯m not joking! Other people saw it too!!


    That¡¯s what I¡¯m saying, it was a hit and run. I should call the police, right?


    Hey, do you think they¡¯ll believe me?

 Handprint

    I received news that my grandfather was in a critical condition so I needed to get back home quickly.


    I prepared myself for a long night and sped off alone in my car, when suddenly I felt a large impact. Instantly a chill ran down my spine. There was nothing in my field of vision but I stopped the car and quickly ran outside to see what I¡¯d hit.


    But there was nothing to be found, on the road or anywhere else. There wasn¡¯t even any evidence of an accident. I looked around the surrounding area and called out but the only response was that of the bugs and the dead of night.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.Tilting my head I got back into the driver¡¯s seat and when I turned the car light on I finally noticed it.


    There was a handprint on the bonnet, like it had been slapped on there with mud. It looked exactly like that of a human pressing down from above. I could see each and every one of the five fingers clearly.


    Even so¡­ I was full of questions.


    Although I have a rather small car, just what kind of being could the owner of a handprint that covered the entire space of my bonnet been?

 Kotatsu

    New Years. I put a small legless chair under the kotatsu and kicked back to read a book.


    I rearranged my legs while turning the pages. As I did I felt something touch my foot, despite the fact I was sitting there alone.


    It was probably just my dog crawling under there again. I kicked at him and then I felt something grab onto my leg.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    It grabbed on and pulled me.


    Holding on to the back of the chair I was pulled down so hard that I was lying down looking up at the roof. It kept pulling me down further under the kotatsu, right up to my stomach.


    While letting out a scream I crawled out from the kotatsu, grabbed a nearby rice cracker tin lid and lifted the blanket.


    But there was nothing there.

 Over and over

    I was walking along and took a drink from my PET bottle when I saw it.


    Someone jumping.


    Right as I lifted my eyes up it cut through my vision straight towards to the ground. It smashed into the ground with the sound of something wet hitting it at full speed.


    My first thought was that I needed to call the police.


    I could tell at a glance that an ambulance wouldn¡¯t be necessary.


    But even so I was shaken. I entirely forgot about my cell phone and ran to the nearest police station.


    The police officer present showed very little interest in what I was saying.


    He didn¡¯t even try to hide the fact he was uninterested and just kept grumbling, ¡°It¡¯s probably just a special case.¡± ¡°There¡¯s most likely no problem.¡±


    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!A person died and there was no problem¡­


    I half dragged him back to the scene of the accident, but when we got there I was shocked.


    There was nothing there.


    No dead body, not even a single drop of blood to be seen. All evidence of someone leaping to their death had vanished without a trace.


    ¡°It¡¯s been repeating over and over since last year.¡±


    I turned around, dumbfounded, and the police officer explained it to me in simple terms.


    ¡°All the time. Right here.¡±


    ¡°¡ª¡±


    For a moment I almost believed him, but there was no way it could be true.


    I took a breath and readied myself to refute him when I heard something behind me. It was the sound of something wet hitting the asphalt at full speed.


    ¡°See?¡±


    The officer shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

 Fire

    While out walking my dog I looked up for no particular reason.


    It wasn¡¯t the night sky that I looked up at.


    I was passing by a construction site for an apartment building and for some reason my eyes glanced up at the top of this tarp-wrapped building.


    When I did, I saw an unexpected colour.


    On top of the blue sitting on the black of the night sky there was a flickering red flame.


    If I wasn¡¯t mistaken this was most definitely a five story building, the rooftop was considerably high. However I could very clearly see the flame from the ground.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    How strange, but I didn¡¯t think it was a fire.


    The flame just burned quietly.


    When I looked back down I noticed other people were looking up at it as well.


    A strange atmosphere fell over the area but nobody spoke, they all just stood there awkwardly nodding their heads at each other, then broke off again in groups of two or three.


    In the end I never found out what was burning.


    And after that time never again did a flame burn up there.