A Japanese Urban Legend for you from http://kowaihanashi.blogspot.com
A man was standing on the railway platform, waiting for the train to come.
Usually, he would listen to the music or read some book to kill the time; but today, for some reason, he was looking towards the railway track.
At that moment, he noticed something between the railway track and the platform.
...No mistaking it, he saw human hands. Human hands that were holding on to the platform.
By any chance, did someone fall on the tracks and was trying to climb up on the platform? The station member, who was standing near, was unmoved by the situation. It seemed like he didn't care.
Is it that thing? Ghostly phenomenon? This was the first time the man had seen something from the other world. But even then, he was more curious than scared.
So, he moved toward the edge of the platform and looked down at the tracks.
That moment it happened. Someone grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back toward the platform. At the next instant, a high-speed train passed through that station. He got saved from collision only by a hair's width.
The station member yelled at him.
"DO YOU WANT TO DIE??"
"No, No. It's not that. They didn't announce the train's coming."
The station member got amazed hearing this. He replied, "There was an announcement and even I warned you to stay away from the tracks."
The man thought how could it be possible when he didn't even hear it. Looking at the situation, a middle school girl, came to the man and said hesitatingly.
"Sir, you see...there were hands."
"Yes, that's something I saw too! They were on the edge of the platform, right? "
"No...what I saw was...hands and they were covering your ears."
"Haaaa! That's why I couldn't hear anything..."
That is pretty creepy.
Don't really know that much, but just in the interest of bumping.
Hanako-San is a japanese version of bloody Mary, supposedly a ww2-era little ghost girl who when summoned on the third stall on the third floor, that the person who went int there and asked "Are you there, Hanako-san??"
Silence, usually, if you're lucky most of the time you will hear absolutely nothing at all, but if you were to hear her voice, and listen to her words "I am here" you would be faced with a choice, at least in some variations she is known to stand outside the stall door, and if you resist the urge to open it and look into her eyes, freedom and a quick exit would be in order until after she disappeared.
Who knows what will happen to you after you see her. It's all just an urban legend, I mean most who've tried had nothing happen to them. But every now and again reality likes to have a window of what can and can't happen. Who would know why you disappeared without a trace
This ol' internet diddy just does not exist of course.
Some of you may have heard of it.
The Red Room.
Supposedly a young boy returns home from school, a friend of his didn't show up, and apparently there was a huge commotion going on about his absence but nothing confirmed.
Hearing of a rumor that it was linked to "The Red Room" a supposed website that didn't exist, not knowing much about it, that night after a lengthy search the boy almost gave up. And was about to sign off when something caught his attention.
Closing it down at first, it came right back up.
He hadn't notice it before, but it was the address.
The address had read RedRoom.
Confused, he realized the words read "Do you like?"
And it popped up once more.
Exiting a third time, it popped up on ceremony.
No matter how many times, it just kept on coming back up, maybe a virus he was telling himself, maybe his friend accidentally sent it to him while they were IMing or something.
After a couple dozen more times, the pop-up just wouldn't go away.
But the boy noticed something.
The question had changed.
"Do you like the"
Now bothered, he tried closing down the browser, killing process, but it's come right back up
"do you like the"
Getting irritated he kept trying to wrestle with the window and close it down, but still it kept persisting.
Again and again, completely lying to himself that his clicking the red X was going to actually end this cycle.
But still, the half-question persisted. But suddenly something was different he noticed about the window.
No new addition to the message, just a clickable hotlink.
Annoyed, he clicked the link to find some sort of answer to the nature of this nag-ware.
The page was simple.
It was just titled The Red Room.
And scrolling down the page, his middle finger just rolling, it was just names, all sorts of peoples names, male and female, scrolling and scrolling, there was no particular order or pattern to their names, just one after another and one after another, all just added randomly to the list and list.
But it was when his middle finger stopped, he blinked a few times, he felt his head feel hot, then a splash of coldness as he saw the last name on the site.
It belonged to his friend.
Just scrutinizing the screen, he scrolled up to the top of the page, trying to find any other links or pages.
Nothing, just names and names and more names.
Then another pop-up showed up.
And another question.
"Do you like The Red Room?"
The principle and teacher had come into class that morning, students noticing something different about their demeanor, wanting to talk to them about something serious.
Most of the class didn't react, just quietness when they heard the news, maybe a few grieving faces here and there, but most were just in shock.
Two of their fellow students, had commited suicide.
One the night before.
The other two nights before.
It was apparently a pact suicide or something, since there deaths were so similar and the fact they were good friends.
They had found the young boy, he was wet with his own blood, his room had smelt like copper or meat, apparently he had used a piece of glass from his computer monitor to cut his wrists open and in his final moments, had smothered the walls with his own blood.
The previous night, his friend had done the exact same thing.
Both of them, had painted the walls with "Red room" over and over in their blood.
Later on that day, as rumblings and rumors spread.
Another had come looking.
She didn't find it of course.
But she did notice the pop-up that wouldn't go away.
She noticed the expanding question.
And she did notice the last 2 names on the website.
I may have gotten some of it wrong, but that's just generally what I remember, I read about it like 10 years ago and saw the flash animation, that would probably be the most correct one.
Check it out guys.
>no wonder the poor bastards have such a high suicide rate
That's mostly due to cultural views about preserving one's honor, as well as high stress and pressure in the modern age.
The Purple Mirror
A young girl in her teens for her birthday had received a gift from her mother, a purple mirror.
Hanging it up on her wall, it had quickly become her most prized possession, and she was growing increasingly and increasingly infatuated with her own beauty. So much so that most would describe her as vain.
She had it for months when she started to eat less and less. For some reason she become fixed on the idea that her beauty was coming from her ever slimming waistline.
So as her self-admiration grew, so did her growing eating-disorder.
as the months grew into years, she was growing more and more skinny, her eating disorder had grown into a horrible monster that was consuming nothing but her.
Everyone around her was becoming distressed, people in the streets would stare at her, many not able to resist the urge, but she assumed it was because she was so incredibly breathtaking and stunning.
But everyone around her, friends and family alike, had told her that she was becoming horribly skinny and that she needed to see a doctor. But she persisted her own beauty and chalked up their comments as just jealousy, since so many admired her in her own eyes, they must have grown bitter because of her incredible physical features.
But no matter what, no matter how frail and gaunt her features got, how her bones seemed to be poking out of the thinner parts of her skin. She looked into that purple mirror over and over, and still she looked beautiful, she knew it, she saw it, she believed it.
This was her ritual, her reassurance of her own reality, this purple mirror was a gateway to her truth, that she was one of the most incredible looking woman in the world, if not of all time.
Her 20th "coming of age" birthday was coming up, and the months leading up to it, she was so sure, she knew she was going to look good for it. The belle of the ball, she knew no amount of jealousy from her friends and family would bring her down.
And she began to get ready on the night of her party.
And then she looked into the mirror.
She saw it, this wasn't right she thought to herself, she couldn't be staring at this. What was this.
She almost moved away from the mirror, making sure that it was her, but her reflection moved with her, she touched the mirror, inspecting to make sure it was her beloved purple mirror.
It was it, but the reflection met with her own fingertips.
This was it, this was her.
But it couldn't be she thought. Why is her cheeks so frail? Why is her skin so pale? Why is her hair so scraggily and thin? Why does she look so grotesque?
Her bones were showing, her skin had grown loose with nothing to cling to. She realized they weren't lying.
No one had lied.
She truly was a skeletal and horrifyingly skinny young girl.
This couldn't be real, but as the reality sunk in deep. Her mind was racing, she had no answer for this sudden change, why did she see herself as so beautiful? Why is she so ugly? Why today? Why now?
These questions proved too much, and when her parents had found her, on the floor, her mirror shattered into pieces, there was no screaming from her room, there was no crying, there was nothing to indicate what she had done, they didn't even hear her break the mirror.
Pieces of her flesh were pulped and shredded, blood all over the carpet. She had used the biggest shard of the mirror to stab into her face, her cheeks, nose, forehead, her lips, even her eyes.
She had left nothing unscathed.
Dying but not dead, she only sort of looked up at them with her red and wet disfigured face, and said "The Purple mirror"
Now apparently after she died, after she was just forgotten most of the world, her peers, and her friends.
There was reports of a few young teenagers who had died years later, no true cause was found to their deaths, just all of them had died shortly before on on their 20th birthdays.
But eventually they found one unifying factor in the cases
"I found one again, outside my door, it was purple like the last one. Someone is playing a game surely. I hate my friends or whoever they are for doing it. Probably just a prank"
Another one of the deceased's friends had reported their friend complaining about finding shards of purple as well before their deaths.
And soon they realized that almost all of these teens reported the purple shard.
Pretty soon the legend was spreading, and the patterns were becoming clear and the young were realizing the truth of what was going on.
Almost everyone of them had heard of this purple mirror story, all of them about the young girl who was skinny and so frail, yet so deluded about her own beauty.
With her hatred of the world, and her hatred of herself, and her grief and her anger, she had created some sort of metaphysical phenominon.
Most figured it out, apparently if a teenager or child hears the story, they must forget about the phrase "The Purple Mirror" by their 20th birthday. If they do, nothing would happen, but those unfortunate enough to still have it on their minds by their 20th would pay her toll.
I guess in those last moments, she wanted to be forgotten, to not exist, and anything else but that would invoke her anger, her hatred of the world that lied, the mirror that lied. And remembering the mirror or herself would invoke her into existing once more.
She had excellent taste, even if she did something rather heinous.
Is posting manga okay? Fuan no Tane is a fantastic read, I've yet to finish +, though.
I'd prefer we stick to urban legends, especially since it looks like you're done, but if you want to come back and post more, /x/ enjoys spooky manga too and you could start your own thread.
Sorry, it's an old /x/ classic so I thought most people would already be familiar with it. Looking through it again all these years later, most of the stories aren't very good, though I can post a couple more if people are actually interested.
I love me some Ito, but there's more to horror manga than just him, just like there's more to spooky stories than just Lovecraft.
Also, if you want more Japanese urban legends/stories, check out Saya in the Underworld. It's a blog run by some chick who translates them from Japanese to English. Her site is where the Midnight Game came from, if that still gets posted around here.
I'm not a huge fan of his work, unlike most /x/philes, but there are some I enjoy, like the Amigara Fault.
>Also, if you want more Japanese urban legends/stories, check out Saya in the Underworld.
I'll give that a look sometime, thanks.
That was a big craze around here for a while, but then it died out.
>Not hugging the cute little baby
IKR, what's wrong with her? She should hug this one too. >>17344610
I really like the Mountain of Gods and the Hellstar Remina was just so over the top it's almost goofy, like a lot of his work. In a lot of ways, he's like a Japanese Lovecraft, though. A lot of it is hit and miss.
I want to play.
(Sorry, X-Phile here.)
A lot of these aren't really scary, just kind of mildly creepy. I think this story is a global one, though. I know I read a similar one about a game of Blind Man's Bluff that was written in like the 30s or something.
Wait, so do they all end abruptly like this? I'm starting to think I've read some of these before and had the same complaint. They get you interested, then leave you hanging like a suicidal ronery guy from /r9k/.
Yeah, but I think creepypasta works best when they cut off the implied gruesome ending than trying to shock you with either gore or a lame "and then he ran away and the goast never bothered him again."
I get that and I think the last one ended okay, but with the others, they just feel incomplete. Sort of like if you went through all your horror novels, read five pages in the middle, then picked up the next one. I'm still finding them interesting enough, though, so don't stop posting just because of me.
Was just taking a break to dig up that story I'd mentioned. It's pretty good, got the proper amount of chills and suspense, even if the author does tell you right off the bat that it's a goast lady. A bit wordy, but that's just because people talked different in 19th century England.
Honestly, these feel like those greentext stories people used to tell. Does /x/ still have the "true" story threads? I haven't checked, those used to be my favorite part of coming here.
Also I'm gonna head to bed now, I'll be back to shitpost tomorrow probably.
>Does /x/ still have the "true" story threads? I haven't checked, those used to be my favorite part of coming here.
Mine too. You still get some once in a while, usually a Nope thread. But we've been having an influx of shitposters again lately, so a lot of the better threads get drowned out or people lose interest and leave.
As you can see, I started the blog in 2016. I've been studying Japanese from October 2012. I can say that I'm at the intermediate stage. I've played a few DS games and Corpse party dead patient in Japanese. Btw I've never took any JLPT exam.
>I know a person irl who claim to understand Japanese just by watching Naruto.
These are the kind of people you hope never reproduce.
>Japanese is a damn hard language.
Yes, yes it is. Which is why you get these weebs who think they can master it no problem and end up only being able to say "kawaii baka ecchi desu".
>A mysterious doll possessed by the spirit of a child has captured the curiosity of people across Japan for decades. The legendary Okiku doll, named after the girl who long ago used to play with it, is a 40-centimeter (16-in) tall kimono-clad figure with beady black eyes -- and hair that grows.
>The Okiku doll has resided at the Mannenji temple in the town of Iwamizawa (Hokkaido prefecture) since 1938. According to the temple, the traditional doll initially had short cropped hair, but over time it has grown to about 25 centimeters (10 in) long, down to the doll's knees. Although the hair is periodically trimmed, it reportedly keeps growing back.
>It is said that the doll was originally purchased in 1918 by a 17-year-old boy named Eikichi Suzuki while visiting Sapporo for a marine exhibition. He bought the doll on Tanuki-koji -- Sapporo's famous shopping street -- as a souvenir for his 2-year-old sister, Okiku. The young girl loved the doll and played with it every day, but the following year, she died suddenly of a cold. The family placed the doll in the household altar and prayed to it every day in memory of Okiku.
>Some time later, they noticed the hair had started to grow. This was seen as a sign that the girl's restless spirit had taken refuge in the doll.
>In 1938, the Suzuki family moved to Sakhalin, and they placed the doll in the care of Mannenji temple, where it has remained ever since.
>Nobody has ever been able to fully explain why the doll's hair continues to grow. However, one scientific examination of the doll supposedly concluded that the hair is indeed that of a young child.
So, here's a new story for you guys:
There was a guy who lived in an apartment building.
After returning from the work, he entered the elevator of his apartment.
When the elevator reached the floor, on which he lived, the elevator door opened and he collided with another guy who was entering the elevator.
That guy was someone whom he had never seen in the apartment building before.
The next morning, the guy came to know about the neighbor's murder that had happened yesterday's night.
The following night, someone rang his doorbell. When he peeked through the peephole, he saw a Policeman standing on the other side.
The policeman said," A murder happened in this building last night, do you know about that? I want to inquire you about any suspicious person you might have seen."
The guy remembered about the suspicious guy he met in the elevator but decided to keep quiet as he didn't want to get involved in the incident. He replied," Sorry, don't know anything about it."
The Policeman said,"OK. Thanks for your cooperation.", and went away.
A few days later, the criminal was caught and his face was being shown all over in the news. When the guy saw the news, he turned pale with fear.
The criminal was the same guy who visited him a few days ago, dressed as Policeman.
A little murderer girl. She killed a classmate over something petty, no one knows her real name because the Japanese media doesn't release the name on underage killers. They call her Nevada-tan because the only picture that is supposedly of her she's wearing a hoodie from some Nevada sports team.
You're clearly not reading the right manga, then. There's plenty where the characters actually look Japanese. Try looking into more seinen manga. I'll recommend 21st Century Boys and Homunculus and Oyasumi PunPun to get you started. All excellent manga that any /x/phile should love.
>"No...what I saw was...hands and they were covering your ears."
>"Haaaa! That's why I couldn't hear anything..."
Then the girl turned to him and said
"Baka sempai! If you got yourself killed, I wouldn't have anyone to make lunch for and my mornings would be so boring"
"S-ssorry" the businessman stuttered