The warm light of the sun shining down on the green grasslands was Kiriko’s absolute favorite time to sit under the shade of his favorite tree. It stood proudly in the center of the field, the only tree for a whole long way, as the kid saw it. He was nine whole years old, a student in the academy studying to be a real life ninja. He didn’t train a whole lot, though. Even while he was in class, Kiriko watched from the window to see if it was gonna be a nice, sunny day so he could run to the comfort of his big, tall tree and do his favorite pastime. He was gonna be a ninja, of course, but what he enjoyed even more than imagining how strong he was gonna be was writing stories with his book and his ink pen. His daddy had bought them for his last birthday present; before that, he would always watch the clouds with his best friend Shina, a little pup that he’d found on the streets, and tell his awesome stories to her. Now, he could put them to paper so that his mommy and daddy and Sissy could read them, too!
One day, Kiriko sat beneath his tree and got so involved in his story that time totally got away from him. He only realized it when the sun started to go down. He was gonna be late! The little boy packed up supplies in his backpack and made a mad dash for home. If he tried really hard, he could get there before dinner. He knew he could! He was a ninja, after all. Well, almost. Kiriko ran and ran, but by the time he got back home, it was dark outside. He knew that meant he was in trouble, so he already started preparing himself for the worst when he approached his house.
The door creaked louder than anything he’d ever heard as he opened it slowly. He was trying to be quiet and hoped that maybe, just this once, the door wouldn’t make that sound and he could sneak in under his parents’ noses to avoid trouble. He winced with every footstep until he finally closed the door, knowing by now that everyone would know he was late. He was sure to be in trouble now, he knew.
Little Kiriko slipped off his shoes and set the backpack by the door before heading on in to the living room. It was so dark inside that he could barely see anything. Why are the lights off? He thought to himself. He quietly peeked around the corner. There was nobody there. Had they gone off and left him? He continued through the living room and into the kitchen. The silence had become deafening by now, like a ringing in his ears that wouldn’t stop.
Kiriko hardly ever noticed his mother’s flowers -they were an everyday thing that he just ignored. But now, they were different. The bright red of her roses had turned a sour gray and instead of standing bright and tall, they were dim and hunched over. Even the light coming through the window from the outside seemed to die out when he walked by.
Passing slowly through the kitchen and into his parents’ room, Kiriko suddenly stopped. There were shoeprints by the doorway. Nobody was allowed to wear shoes in the house. He stepped inside, but it was even darker in there. It was pitch black. He reached for the light. What once was a white, ornate room was now coated in red. Deep, black marks were cut into the bed. Lying limp on top were six feet. Two were the size of a full grown man. Two were from a woman. And the last two, positioned in front of the other four, were exactly the size you’d expect from a five year old girl. Beneath the feet was a symbol drawn in red and contained within a circle. This same signal was on the walls and ceiling, along with the rest of mommy, daddy, and sissy. Their bodies had been cut up and fixed to the wood. Blood dripped from every piece of them. Blood covered the floors. Covered the walls. Covered Kiriko.
The boy screamed as loud as his little body could and he ran. Only halfway down the ominously lit hallway and something caught his foot. He tripped and fell. He dared not look back to see what it was. What was in front of him, though. It sent chills down his spine. Mommy was looking right at him with eyes white as snow. It was her head. Just her head. Blood seeping from her eyes like tears. Kiriko screamed again and tried to run. Inadvertently, he kicked Daddy’s head from under his foot. It rolled after him. He could swear his father’s head was chasing him. Kiriko ran faster than he ever had in his entire life. He grabbed his backpack and his shoes and dashed right through the door.
Somewhere in the village, in the middle of an alleyway, Kiriko woke up to an unusual chill for this time of year. The sun was just peering over the horizon and its heat spread all around, yet for some reason, Kiriko felt extremely cold. He stood up and shook off the feeling. He must’ve fallen asleep out there, somehow. He had his backpack and shoes, though, so he continued on to school, trying as best he could not to think of that terrible nightmare he’d had the night before. Throughout the school day, he got to feeling much better. The warm fall air permeated throughout his body and by the time late afternoon came, he was feeling much more like himself.
Like yesterday, the weather was absolutely perfect. So, like he always did, Kiriko took his supplies out to the field and perched under his favorite tree to continue writing the story he’d started yesterday. The perky little boy opened up his book and found his place from yesterday. Without a care in the world, he got to writing and, as usual, got lost in it. The sun started to go down again and Kiriko looked up in irritation at how little time the sun would give him to write.
With a sigh, Kiriko glanced back down at his booklet. It was…a foot. He know he wrote his story, but there weren’t any words. There was just a picture of a foot. He turned the page. It was another foot, but it was smaller. He kept going. All of his work had been replaced with depictions of his nightmare. Mommy, Daddy, and Sissy were all drawn in his booklet. In pieces. All the pieces he’d seen last night in his bad dream put to paper in red. But he used black ink. Little Kiriko looked to his ink well. It was Sissy’s head. Her head had been crudely sawn in half. The sound of dripping brought his focus back to the booklet. Blood was dripping from his ink pen. It was running down his arm. It was all over him.
“Help!” Kiriko screamed. “HELP!!!”
“What’s wrong Bubby?”
Slowly. Frightened. Kiriko looked down. Sissy’s bloodied, open head was talking to him. Looking at him.
Kiriko ran. Fast.
Not ten feet away, Kiriko’s foot got caught on something. His head hit the ground, blood splattering from his nose onto the soft grass. He wasn’t going to look back again. He didn’t want to see what it was. He closed his eyes, hoping that it wasn’t real. That it was just a dream. Then it pulled. Something had his foot. It felt warm, solid, and it pulled him all the way back to the tree. Kiriko opened his eyes. Everything was so dark now, like the sun itself was hiding. Sissy looked at Kiriko, then up at the tree. Kiriko followed her gaze and saw it, hanging from the tree. It was a noose.
The boy screamed and struggled, but he couldn’t get away. He was being dragged closer and closer to the tree. He fought and he kicked but nothing worked. He knew what that rope meant, he knew what was going to happen.
The pulling stopped. He tried to look back. To see what was coming after him. But he snapped forward. It was so fast. Before he even knew what had happened, everything was black.
The next thing Kiriko saw was the ground, and his feet dangling above it. His first instinct was to gasp, but nothing went in. Something was blocking his throat. It was the rope. He was hanging from the tree! Kiriko grabbed hold of the rope and tried to pull himself up. All he could manage, though, was to get enough pressure off to breathe again. Kiriko looked around. It was dark, everywhere. There was nobody around. But he had to try! “Help!” “Help me!” He cried out.
He kept screaming and screaming but nobody was there. Nobody was coming to save him. He was all alone, trapped up there. He wanted it to be a dream, but it was real. His family was dead. His dog was probably dead. His friends were gone. Nobody would help him.
Hours passed by without a sound other than Kiriko’s sobbing. His arms got too tired to hold him. Eventually, they went limp, and the noose tightened around his neck. His body jolted about, he could feel everything fading away and then, everything went black.
An intense heat woke Kiriko. He looked around, frightened. He wasn’t dead, somehow, but he didn’t know how. Maybe it was all a dream? Maybe this whole thing was just one really bad dream. He stood up, and little Shina came barking and running towards him. The boy’s face lit up like a candle. He picked up his little pet and kissed her furry head. Finally, something good. Surely it was all just a bad dream, but where was he? It was really hot there, and there was no grass anywhere. It looked like one of those mountains he’d seen in pictures, but it was hot like the Land of Wind’s desert.
He started walking around, looking for anything familiar. There were plants around, pretty flowers like Mommy used to grow. They were blood red. The color reminded him of the house, of his dismembered family. A shiver ran down his spine as he continued on.
Before long, he came to a ravine. It overlooked a wide expanse of land that went on and on forever. That’s when the sound hit him. Screams echoed all around, screams from everywhere, all at once. Kiriko dropped the dog and covered his ears. It frightened him, all of those screams. He ducked down and tried to hide, but there was nowhere to go. In fact, his body couldn’t even move.
Then he heard a footstep. It wasn’t even loud, but he could hear it clear as day. Through the screams. Through his hands. Through his soul.
The footsteps got closer and closer. He could feel somebody standing behind him. But he couldn’t look. He was too scared to move. Then it stopped. There was no movement. Everything went quiet. Even the screams stopped. Kiriko slowly removed his hands, and opened his eyes. Then he saw it. A man, covered in a bright red aura. And those eyes, blood red, like a demon, only inches from his face. Kiriko tried to scream, but nothing came out. He took off running, back where he’d come from.
Then he felt that familiar tug on his foot. This time, he looked back. He saw it, what it really was. A chain, covered in purple fire. It was stuck to his ankle, like a shackle. He pulled against it, hit it, but it was no use. He was being drug helplessly back to where that man was. Kiriko was almost too afraid to look, afraid to see that man, but then he caught it in the corner of his eye. It was the noose.
Kiriko dug his nails into the ground. Blood seeped from his fingers as he desperately clawed away at the dirt to get away. It was too strong. He felt that snap at his back again, and when he awoke, he was hanging in the noose, just like before. “No…” He sobbed. He knew what it meant, what would happen. It was dream! A Bad Dream! It had to be…
Kiriko screamed at the top of his lungs. He cried and he kicked and he pulled against the rope. Nobody came to help. Nobody would ever come. He was all alone. He would always be alone. Kiriko could feel his arms getting more and more tired. He started to cry, but his voice was muffled when his arms gave out, and the rope wrapped around his neck. Kiriko felt the familiar jolting and fading, and then it all went black.
An intense heat woke Kiriko. He looked around. Sure enough, there was Shina, barking and running towards him. He saw the roses. He travelled towards the ravine. He heard the screams. He ducked down in fear. Heard the person come towards him from behind. Saw the man’s eyes. Tried to run. Got dragged back to the tree, and was hung. This time, just as Kiriko was about to fade away, he could hear a voice speaking to him, whispering in his ear. “Welcome…to Hell.” He heard Zurui say before it all started over again.
One day, Kiriko sat beneath his tree and got so involved in his story that time totally got away from him. He only realized it when the sun started to go down. He was gonna be late! The little boy packed up supplies in his backpack and made a mad dash for home. If he tried really hard, he could get there before dinner. He knew he could! He was a ninja, after all. Well, almost. Kiriko ran and ran, but by the time he got back home, it was dark outside. He knew that meant he was in trouble, so he already started preparing himself for the worst when he approached his house.
The door creaked louder than anything he’d ever heard as he opened it slowly. He was trying to be quiet and hoped that maybe, just this once, the door wouldn’t make that sound and he could sneak in under his parents’ noses to avoid trouble. He winced with every footstep until he finally closed the door, knowing by now that everyone would know he was late. He was sure to be in trouble now, he knew.
Little Kiriko slipped off his shoes and set the backpack by the door before heading on in to the living room. It was so dark inside that he could barely see anything. Why are the lights off? He thought to himself. He quietly peeked around the corner. There was nobody there. Had they gone off and left him? He continued through the living room and into the kitchen. The silence had become deafening by now, like a ringing in his ears that wouldn’t stop.
Kiriko hardly ever noticed his mother’s flowers -they were an everyday thing that he just ignored. But now, they were different. The bright red of her roses had turned a sour gray and instead of standing bright and tall, they were dim and hunched over. Even the light coming through the window from the outside seemed to die out when he walked by.
Passing slowly through the kitchen and into his parents’ room, Kiriko suddenly stopped. There were shoeprints by the doorway. Nobody was allowed to wear shoes in the house. He stepped inside, but it was even darker in there. It was pitch black. He reached for the light. What once was a white, ornate room was now coated in red. Deep, black marks were cut into the bed. Lying limp on top were six feet. Two were the size of a full grown man. Two were from a woman. And the last two, positioned in front of the other four, were exactly the size you’d expect from a five year old girl. Beneath the feet was a symbol drawn in red and contained within a circle. This same signal was on the walls and ceiling, along with the rest of mommy, daddy, and sissy. Their bodies had been cut up and fixed to the wood. Blood dripped from every piece of them. Blood covered the floors. Covered the walls. Covered Kiriko.
The boy screamed as loud as his little body could and he ran. Only halfway down the ominously lit hallway and something caught his foot. He tripped and fell. He dared not look back to see what it was. What was in front of him, though. It sent chills down his spine. Mommy was looking right at him with eyes white as snow. It was her head. Just her head. Blood seeping from her eyes like tears. Kiriko screamed again and tried to run. Inadvertently, he kicked Daddy’s head from under his foot. It rolled after him. He could swear his father’s head was chasing him. Kiriko ran faster than he ever had in his entire life. He grabbed his backpack and his shoes and dashed right through the door.
Somewhere in the village, in the middle of an alleyway, Kiriko woke up to an unusual chill for this time of year. The sun was just peering over the horizon and its heat spread all around, yet for some reason, Kiriko felt extremely cold. He stood up and shook off the feeling. He must’ve fallen asleep out there, somehow. He had his backpack and shoes, though, so he continued on to school, trying as best he could not to think of that terrible nightmare he’d had the night before. Throughout the school day, he got to feeling much better. The warm fall air permeated throughout his body and by the time late afternoon came, he was feeling much more like himself.
Like yesterday, the weather was absolutely perfect. So, like he always did, Kiriko took his supplies out to the field and perched under his favorite tree to continue writing the story he’d started yesterday. The perky little boy opened up his book and found his place from yesterday. Without a care in the world, he got to writing and, as usual, got lost in it. The sun started to go down again and Kiriko looked up in irritation at how little time the sun would give him to write.
With a sigh, Kiriko glanced back down at his booklet. It was…a foot. He know he wrote his story, but there weren’t any words. There was just a picture of a foot. He turned the page. It was another foot, but it was smaller. He kept going. All of his work had been replaced with depictions of his nightmare. Mommy, Daddy, and Sissy were all drawn in his booklet. In pieces. All the pieces he’d seen last night in his bad dream put to paper in red. But he used black ink. Little Kiriko looked to his ink well. It was Sissy’s head. Her head had been crudely sawn in half. The sound of dripping brought his focus back to the booklet. Blood was dripping from his ink pen. It was running down his arm. It was all over him.
“Help!” Kiriko screamed. “HELP!!!”
“What’s wrong Bubby?”
Slowly. Frightened. Kiriko looked down. Sissy’s bloodied, open head was talking to him. Looking at him.
Kiriko ran. Fast.
Not ten feet away, Kiriko’s foot got caught on something. His head hit the ground, blood splattering from his nose onto the soft grass. He wasn’t going to look back again. He didn’t want to see what it was. He closed his eyes, hoping that it wasn’t real. That it was just a dream. Then it pulled. Something had his foot. It felt warm, solid, and it pulled him all the way back to the tree. Kiriko opened his eyes. Everything was so dark now, like the sun itself was hiding. Sissy looked at Kiriko, then up at the tree. Kiriko followed her gaze and saw it, hanging from the tree. It was a noose.
The boy screamed and struggled, but he couldn’t get away. He was being dragged closer and closer to the tree. He fought and he kicked but nothing worked. He knew what that rope meant, he knew what was going to happen.
The pulling stopped. He tried to look back. To see what was coming after him. But he snapped forward. It was so fast. Before he even knew what had happened, everything was black.
The next thing Kiriko saw was the ground, and his feet dangling above it. His first instinct was to gasp, but nothing went in. Something was blocking his throat. It was the rope. He was hanging from the tree! Kiriko grabbed hold of the rope and tried to pull himself up. All he could manage, though, was to get enough pressure off to breathe again. Kiriko looked around. It was dark, everywhere. There was nobody around. But he had to try! “Help!” “Help me!” He cried out.
He kept screaming and screaming but nobody was there. Nobody was coming to save him. He was all alone, trapped up there. He wanted it to be a dream, but it was real. His family was dead. His dog was probably dead. His friends were gone. Nobody would help him.
Hours passed by without a sound other than Kiriko’s sobbing. His arms got too tired to hold him. Eventually, they went limp, and the noose tightened around his neck. His body jolted about, he could feel everything fading away and then, everything went black.
An intense heat woke Kiriko. He looked around, frightened. He wasn’t dead, somehow, but he didn’t know how. Maybe it was all a dream? Maybe this whole thing was just one really bad dream. He stood up, and little Shina came barking and running towards him. The boy’s face lit up like a candle. He picked up his little pet and kissed her furry head. Finally, something good. Surely it was all just a bad dream, but where was he? It was really hot there, and there was no grass anywhere. It looked like one of those mountains he’d seen in pictures, but it was hot like the Land of Wind’s desert.
He started walking around, looking for anything familiar. There were plants around, pretty flowers like Mommy used to grow. They were blood red. The color reminded him of the house, of his dismembered family. A shiver ran down his spine as he continued on.
Before long, he came to a ravine. It overlooked a wide expanse of land that went on and on forever. That’s when the sound hit him. Screams echoed all around, screams from everywhere, all at once. Kiriko dropped the dog and covered his ears. It frightened him, all of those screams. He ducked down and tried to hide, but there was nowhere to go. In fact, his body couldn’t even move.
Then he heard a footstep. It wasn’t even loud, but he could hear it clear as day. Through the screams. Through his hands. Through his soul.
The footsteps got closer and closer. He could feel somebody standing behind him. But he couldn’t look. He was too scared to move. Then it stopped. There was no movement. Everything went quiet. Even the screams stopped. Kiriko slowly removed his hands, and opened his eyes. Then he saw it. A man, covered in a bright red aura. And those eyes, blood red, like a demon, only inches from his face. Kiriko tried to scream, but nothing came out. He took off running, back where he’d come from.
Then he felt that familiar tug on his foot. This time, he looked back. He saw it, what it really was. A chain, covered in purple fire. It was stuck to his ankle, like a shackle. He pulled against it, hit it, but it was no use. He was being drug helplessly back to where that man was. Kiriko was almost too afraid to look, afraid to see that man, but then he caught it in the corner of his eye. It was the noose.
Kiriko dug his nails into the ground. Blood seeped from his fingers as he desperately clawed away at the dirt to get away. It was too strong. He felt that snap at his back again, and when he awoke, he was hanging in the noose, just like before. “No…” He sobbed. He knew what it meant, what would happen. It was dream! A Bad Dream! It had to be…
Kiriko screamed at the top of his lungs. He cried and he kicked and he pulled against the rope. Nobody came to help. Nobody would ever come. He was all alone. He would always be alone. Kiriko could feel his arms getting more and more tired. He started to cry, but his voice was muffled when his arms gave out, and the rope wrapped around his neck. Kiriko felt the familiar jolting and fading, and then it all went black.
An intense heat woke Kiriko. He looked around. Sure enough, there was Shina, barking and running towards him. He saw the roses. He travelled towards the ravine. He heard the screams. He ducked down in fear. Heard the person come towards him from behind. Saw the man’s eyes. Tried to run. Got dragged back to the tree, and was hung. This time, just as Kiriko was about to fade away, he could hear a voice speaking to him, whispering in his ear. “Welcome…to Hell.” He heard Zurui say before it all started over again.