The Forgotten Vampire of Japan

There is a legend in Japan. This legend has been passed down from generation to generation. Starting with the monks of the “South Temple” as it is known today.
But that was not always the name of this mysterious temple . . .
It was once called the Temple of Shor ness Fu re. It is said that the Japanese were not always as short, in general, as they are now. Flash back with me, if you will, to a time and place far from here and now. Indulge in the tale of: The Forgotten Vampire of Japan!

It came upon a night so dark that it was impossible to see five feet in front of you. The southern temple of Japan stands there, ominously, rising above the dense growth of the land. A young Samurai named Wong Pow stood guard outside the room of rituals, holding himself high and dignified. He was ready to meet anything on that dark night. He toyed with the idea. Just think if I actually encountered the vampire that has been roaming these parts freely? I would be a hero. All the Japanese women would love me! Suddenly coming back to his senses he realized the hard truth, if he did face the vampire alone, he would probably not be alive to see another red sunrise.
He had heard tales of what the vampire was capable of, the horror stories were numerous.

Just inside the doors that Wong Pow stood guard over that night, the counsel of elders sat around a small pot. The deep smell of incense rose from the small pot, filling the nostrils of the leaders. The older ones were completely used to the heavy drowse that the incense produced, but the younger elders had been around it far less. There was one in particular. His name was Kung Rashosikmog. The aroma filled his senses. His head became more dizzy by the second. Just then a tall man with a high sense of honor, undoubtably the leader of this convergence, spoke out saying; ‘This vampiristic demon must be stoped if our people are to survive. We have already lost a great many good men to this phantom. And the people who did not die . . . ’ he mumbled off, not willing to say what had happened to the others. Just then, a grey-haired elder with a beard came down to his knees gracefully. Slowly he spoke, ‘Much caution we must take, if we are to confront this enemy. From what I have been told he will not show himself in the daytime. Therefore we can assume that he is weaker when the rising sun is in the sky.’ Kung Rashosikmog spoke up as if he had an idea, but mumbled incoherently until he went silent. I know I had it, he thought to himself, but this God forsaken smoke clouds my mind. ‘Aha! I remember!’, shouted Kung. The others were shocked out of their deep contemplation. Kung went on, ‘We can get him out in the open . . . and then, we will dance, and we will keep dancing and spinning . . . and spinning . . . and’ suddenly Kung was on the floor laughing hysterically. The others could do nothing but exchange blank stares. Finally, when it seemed that Kung would suffocate because of his incoherent laughter, the man passed out. There was no use in moving him, the others thought, so they just left him there.

Wong Pow was startled into alertness. Something was very wrong. He sensed a crazed Kung behind the large wood double doors. But that was not it. Then he knew, the vampire is here. Slowly he stepped back to the double doors, but before he could act he felt cold teeth against his neck. ‘Do not struggle....’ hissed a very nasale voice at his back. ‘I will not harm you, only provide you with the destiny you deserve.
Just as Wong reached for his katana, the vampire bit hard into his neck. An instant later, it was gone. He felt nothing at first, the bite had not even hurt. He raised his hand to the back of his neck where he was sure there would be free flowing blood, but there was none. Only a small hole remain. He felt the vampire trying to speak to him through his mind, but he blocked him out. Then all of the sudden the vampire bust through his consciousness, intruding on his thoughts.
‘...you will be a blessed people, for in days to come lead will fly. But you shall be below the lead, because of what I am doing for you now.... you no longer have need of me, the blessing will spread now without my assistance, goodbye, my friend’
Wong didn’t understand. The first thing he noticed was when he turned to the large wooden doors the handles seem much higher then they were before. As he clumsily burst in the doors, the elders all at once jumped backwards from the pot. The had all been siting extremely close to it with their head leaned over as if to inhale the smoke on purpose. In the commotion they caused trying to jump back trying to get back to their normal positions they almost didn’t notice Wong standing there.

The man with the long beard noticed it first, his grey hair in a mess from all the excitement. He sat there, staring at Wong for long moments. The others saw the expression of horror on his face and slowly, all in unison, fallowed his gaze. Besides Kung, who was by now awake and laughing uncontrollably again, they all sat there, mouths gaping at the sight. Rubbing their eyes just one more time to make sure it was not just the smoke, they started screaming. All of them, like a bunch of little girls. Chaos erupted like a volcano in the council room. Suddenly the man with the long, grey beard stood up. ‘STOP THIS INSTANT!’ he shouted over the havoc. Everyone froze in place. The greyed man spoke to a now very confused Wong. ‘My boy, it seems as if you have shrunk’ said the man. Wong could only stare, emotionless. The urge inside him was growing. Like a pot that was about to boil over was his urge to go and bite every one of these men on the back of the neck. But why? Suddenly he was in a frenzy, he could not control himself. One after another, the horrified men heard the same words that Wong had heard. Their heads spun. It was all to much, the smoke, the bite and the voice. One by one they dropped off into unconsciousness. All but Kung, he was laughing now harder then ever. Suddenly the urge filled him like a wave. Rising from his spot he ran out the doors at breakneck speed, heading strait for the small pond of reflection, as they called it, that was just outside the temple gardens. To the horror of absolutely no one, for no one was watching, he began hurriedly taking off every article of clothing that was on his body. Dashing now in a frenzy through the lilies of the garden he was laughing to hard that it almost made him fall. His gallant crusade came to an unexpected climax when he climbed the roof of a nearby building. He jumped high into the air, the bright moonlight reflecting off of him as if he were a mirror. With a terrific splash that woke every single man woman and child within yelling distance, Kung was finally...free.

And so I conclude my tale, an epic of it’s day. For within this legend so much happened that is held dear to the great people of Japan.


~The End~