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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1250595-Bakemono
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by Rin Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1250595
Alon is on a study trip in Japan, he gets separated on a hike things get weird...
      Alon sighed as he tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. That was something easier said than done on these blasted futons, which were nothing like the ones back home in England.  Resigned to the discomfort, Alon flopped hard onto the lumpy pad, his arms and legs flung far out, stretching past the small, Japanese mattress and rested, limp, on the reed floor. Why did he let his mum push him into yet another scholastic nightmare? This time her bullying about what “looked good” on his university applications had landed Alon almost 6000 miles from home.  He didn’t want to be here, in some dump boarding house with nineteen goody-goody overachievers looking to get high credits in foreign studies.  It wasn’t even like they got to go to Tokyo where he could get some cool clothes; this was in the middle of the mountains of Honshu, Japan, nothing for miles.
         “Hey, Alon! Get with it, we were all supposed to meet in the main hall five minutes ago, Mr. Ranelli sent me to get you.” exclaimed Cori, her words rushed. Alon heaved himself up off the floor, or bed, not much difference there.  As Cori led Alon to the main hall, their footsteps made for an interesting beat, hers fast and eager to get where they were going, while his were slow and reluctant.  But eventually both pairs of feet arrived in the main hall to the last few words of Mr. Ranelli’s loud if not inspiring speech.
         “…so we can see the land that has shaped this culture first hand. Okay, Let’s GO!”  Mr. Ranelli’s lively cry seemed to rally the crowd of teenagers assembled, except for Alon. Alon stayed towards the back of the group as they filed out the one door in the entire building that wasn’t made of paper.  Imitating the group, Alon sat on the ground (something he was getting very used to doing) to put on his sneakers. “Hello, Alon. I noticed you weren’t at group.” breathed Mr. Ranelli. Alon jumped, how had Mr. Ranelli gotten behind him? “Any reason in particular as to why you were absent?”
         “I lost track of time, that’s all. I’ll try to be more punctual. So, what are we doing?” Alon said, trying to feign interest in the upcoming activity.
         “We are going hiking. We will walk to the summit of Tengu-Dake, the mountain just northwest of here. We should get to the peak around sunset and then walk back after dark. Doesn’t that sound fun?”  Mr. Ranelli’s voice mocked Alon with its cheerfulness.  How could anyone actually be excited about the hike? It sounded like a long, hot, uphill slog - probably with lots of bugs- to Alon, who wasn’t exactly thrilled about the “walk back after dark” part of the hike either. Alon didn’t want to admit that he was afraid of the dark, and normally he wasn’t. Not when he was in the middle of London and there were streetlights for miles around, streetlights that made the dark more of a weak orange background glow that left everything perfectly visible. But out here, in some backwoods mountains without so much as a single light for miles? Yeah, Alon was afraid of The Dark. Pushing the thought to the back of his mind Alon finished tying his shoes and stood to join the group. 
        The hike turned out to be exactly as Alon had thought it would be, long, hot, and entirely bug infested. As he paused to swat at a mosquito feasting on his arm Alon found himself reconsidering his earlier anxiety about walking back in the dark.         
        “Anything to make it cooler…” he mumbled to himself.  Mr. Ranelli’s prediction that they’d hit the apex of their trek around sunset was correct, as the group gathered about in the clearing on top of Tengu-Dake the sun was just sinking behind nearby Yuzawa-yama.  After the sun vanished it didn’t take long for the remaining light to follow suit.  After watching the last moments of light, the crowd turned, almost in unison, and headed back in the murky blue-gray gloom.
         Alon continued to trail after the group in spite of his fear of the dark, or perhaps because of his intense need to prove that he wasn’t afraid. But for whatever reason, Alon did fall behind. So far behind, in fact, that when the fog came up out of the depths of the forest, Alon had a hard time even seeing the forms of the others. Worried he might get lost, Alon ran to catch up with everyone else. But instead of bringing him closer to Mr. Ranelli, Cori, Ja’ya, and the rest Alon’s efforts seemed to put more distance between them.  Suddenly very alarmed Alon called out;
“Mr. Ranelli! Wait up a sec!” his voice tinged with panic. “Hello?! Mr. Ranelli, Cori? Wait for me, seriously this fog is thick, you’ve gotta slow down!” now his words came in short gasps as Alon lost his breath running in the direction the group had gone, the fog now completely obscuring their image. As he waited and yet received neither response, nor reappearance of the others a terrible thought occurred to Alon. What if he was somehow alone out here? The blue-gray of twilight had faded to an inky black, dark as pitch. Alon could hardly see the nose before his eyes, nonetheless the ground beneath his feet. Regardless, that invisible ground came up to smack Alon in the face as his feet went out from under him, grabbed by some unseen root. The quality of light changed rapidly as the moon cleared the surrounding peaks. Alon whipped around, given the profound feeling that he was no longer alone.
         In the hazy and diffuse light there stood a woman. Short, but made tall by her massive wooden sandals, robed in a purple silk kimono patterned with the delicate pink cherry blossoms the Japanese seemed so fond of, her unsmiling mouth painted a shocking red against her deathly pallor, and with glossy black hair  tied up away from her neck in elaborate knots, she was exquisitely beautiful and entirely frightening. Alon took several deep breaths and tried to force his mind to behave rationally. It was just some local woman out on her own business. It wasn’t that late after sunset.  He should ask her for help, she might be able to guide him back to the boarding house where his foreign studies group was staying.
         “Excuse me, but could you help me? You see, I’m lost,” Alon said slowly, his sensible side forcing him into action.  As soon as the words left his mouth a form broke out of the shadowy, half seen trees that framed the woman. It streaked across the short distance solidifying in shape as it came to rest at the woman’s side. A blue lantern appeared in the thing’s mouth, showing it to be a gigantic fox, crimson in color, with nine, large, furry, tails beating the air behind it.  The woman’s hand was resting on the fox-like creatures back and Alon knew he would get no help from her.
         Alon staggered to his feet, just now realizing that he was still on the ground. Before Alon could get away the woman rushed at him. Or, her head did. Her neck, stretching and bending like rubber, just trailed after her angry head. “What the bloody hell are you?” Alon whispered, terrified. The woman’s head stopped a quarter of an inch from Alon’s face. He wanted to turn and run, but terror bound his feet firmly in place.
         “Chikusho no kami! Kiisama na gaijin ni ki-wa de aru desu ka?” She spat the alien oaths at him; her cracked voice wicked with hatred. Her face withdrew at a fearsome rate, and her head sat once again atop her neck and looked as if the last few moments hadn’t happened. She turned and whispered something to the fox creature. When the woman turned her gaze back on Alon her mouth split open in a depraved and perverted parody of a smile, her teeth shone a glossy blue black within her mouth, and she laughed. She laughed her horrible, mocking laughter at him, and that’s what broke the spell. Alon turned and ran. Alon never ran harder, faster, in all his life, and never hoped to again as it was the icy fear gripping his heart that fueled his wild flight. Alon ran, his feet finding their own way and his eyes devoid of sight, until he fell panting against the rental van parked in front of the boarding house.
         Alon just lay where he had fallen, for the moment, unable to move. His heart was racing and it was a challenge even to breath. It took what felt like all of his energy but Alon managed to crawl up the steps to the porch and rap his clenched fist one, twice, three times against the door. All the while throwing nervous glances back over his shoulder, afraid that for all his running it might have followed him. 
         Alon heard footsteps, but thankfully these came from inside. Eventually the door opened, and just seeing the warm, yellow lighting made Alon want to cry. Cori, who had been sent to get the door, looked around puzzled until Alon heaved himself up.  Alon swayed and would have fallen if Cori hadn’t caught him.
         “Mr. Ranelli! Ms. Lamm! It’s Alon, there’s something wrong with him!”  Yelled Cori, and in the background hurried footsteps could be heard.  The teachers burst into the entryway. Ms. Lamm was the first to think to relieve Cori of her semi-conscious burden. But together Ms. Lamm and Mr. Ranelli carried Alon to a small room in the back. The other students, hearing all the commotion clustered around the doorway of the back room, hoping to fine out what was going on.
         “There’s nothing to see here, go do your activity response sheets for the hike, everyone; you too, Cori.” Ms. Lamm said sternly, and sure enough the crowd dissipated. “Now, Alon, can you tell us what happened?” Alon did his best to tell the story of the fog, and the demon woman and fox, but soon after getting to ‘then I fell, and this time it was against the rental van.’ Alon’s body decided that it’d had enough, and he passed out. When he woke up the next morning Mr. Ranelli told Alon that he had tripped and hit his head, that everything had been a nightmare.  Alon didn’t believe him, but pretended to and the last day of the trip ended without incident.          
        As Alon was boarding the plane that would fly him away, and back to England, he thought he heard a ghost of the ghost’s laughter. Alon shivered, and headed home to his mum with a head full of nightmares and the constant reassurance that he was definitely afraid of the dark.
© Copyright 2007 Rin (priori at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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