Milady's Fine Gentleman 106 Ghost Stories And Legends

A group of young professionals on an excursion were gathered together in front of a bonfire in a jamboree in Southern China.

It was a cool September night in the suburbs. The group was composed of seven persons plus the tour guide, originally strangers to each other. Due to the joiner trip, they were forming a bond like no other, as if they had known each other for quite a long time now.

The group was composed of two pairs of couple, two backpackers, and a solo traveller who was trying to mend his broken heart. It would be a good group except that the broken hearted person was constantly fed of high-quality dogfood from the two couples.

Good thing about this kind of trip is that the partic.i.p.ants were not bound by their ident.i.ty. They could be who they really are behind t.i.tles, or designation, or who they want to be without being questioned about it. Or they could be someone else from who they really are.

The group was gathered for dinner over a bonfire. They were laughing and sharing good stories about anything – be it urban legends, current events, or unique and personal anecdotes.

One backpacker was getting bored on talking about the good and happy stuffs. He suggested to talk about native folklore, horror and thriller stories all over Asia, to spice up their evening. The group did not oppose the idea, and so they started sharing shortly.

"Hey do you know the story of the Kuchisake-onna?" One started.

"It was an urban legend in j.a.pan, that there was a lady roaming around near elementary schools. The Kuchisake-onna wore a face mask covering her lower face, and even then her face was strikingly beautiful. She would go around and approach little children when they leave school, and would ask them, "Am I pretty?" Because she's strikingly beautiful even with the mask on, the children would undoubtedly say "Yes." In which she would proceed in removing her mask and ask again, "How about now, am I pretty?"

The backpacker who was telling the story stared at his audiences' eyes and slowly continued his story. "Behind the mask was the secret of the Kuchisake-onna. Her motuh… Her mouth was slitted across her cheeks from ear to ear…"

"Of course, anyone who would see her face would run from fright, and so the children ran with all their might. But it was known and it had been said that the Kuchisake-onna ran fast, up to 100 meters per three seconds. She always outran the kids, and ate them."

The audience shrieked at this story. Some shook their heads. Some closed their eyes.

The storyteller continued. "There were stories that the Kuchisake-onna's slitted mouth was borught upon by a surgical procedure gone wrong. In her frustration, she had gone mad and tried to wreak havoc to innocent people, especially children who still have bright future ahead, as part of her vengeance."

"Some testimonies said she was always carrying a sickle with her, and she usually wore a red coat, red heels, and even a red umbrella."

"Why red, you might ask? It's to cover the blood of her victims if in case it splattered over her."

"More, more! More stories please!" A lady from one of the couples requested.

Another person shared the stories. "I asked around during the day earlier about the place. One native shared that just a few months ago, there were mysterious happenings that could not be explained by logic. Some cows were missing."

"There were hushed rumors around here that jiangs.h.i.+s [1] who were pa.s.sing by were the ones responsible for it."

"But no one could ascertain that." A non-believer retorted.

The broken-hearted joiner was having fun. 'This is better than sharing happy and mushy moments of lovebirds. We're all in the same boat now.' He thought.

"Are there any stories about folklore deities and fairies and all those positive fict.i.tious characters? We're in the middle of the night, it's scary talking about these things…" The lady from the second couple voiced out her opinions.

"Well, that's the whole point of this storytelling, honey." Her husband comforted her.

"Well, I know a story about creatures in Buddhism similar to western fairies, or angels or swan maidens." The second backpacker shared.

"Let's hear it!" The ladies pushed for it enthusiastically.

"In j.a.panese Buddism, there is a subgroup of celestial beings, strictly female, called tennyo. They normally were garbed in feather dresses called hagoromo. When they come down to earth, they take off their hagoromo and mingle with ordinary people. They could not go back to heaven without their hagoromo since they use it to fly."

"There was a story of a tennyo who, one day, decided to visit earth. She bathed in a hot spring and while at it, a man stole her hagoromo, with the objective of making her stay. Soon after he married her, and they lived a happy life together. Out of the man's love for her beautiful wife, he was overcome with guilt and unease for the little trick he had brought upon her. Soon after, he told her the truth – that he knew her true ident.i.ty, and that he's the one who stole her hagoromo. He returned it to her. The tennyo got mad and fled, returning to the heavens where she belongs."

There was silence among the crowd.

One of the ladies from the couple partic.i.p.ants said softly, "That's a tragic love story. I wonder what happened to the man after that. He must have been overcome by grief."

The other lady commented, "The tennyo might have been hurt by her husband's wrongdoing. But if she really loved him, she would have forgiven him. But then, she's not a normal human. She's a celestial being. There's a big disparity there. The man played a trick with the heavens itself."

The broken-hearted partic.i.p.ant pinched the s.p.a.ce between his brows. 'They're at it again. How did it end up with love stories? Although it's a tragic one, still, it's a love story.'

He stood up and left the group, "I'll go for a walk."

"Alright, but don't go too far. If you go straight eastward, you'll find an opening to a stream, and farther northward along it is a hot spring." Their guide told him. "Be back within an hour, or we'll start searching for you. Please bring your phone with you."

"Roger that." The broken-hearted partic.i.p.ant acknowledged the instructions.

[1] jiangs.h.i.+s are Chinese vampires who act more like zombies. They move around by hopping with both feet and arms outstretched directionless.