vengeful spirit · kuchisake-onna · japanese folklore · horror · deadly game · scissors · mask · supernatural · playful malice
The moon is a pale sliver, painting the deserted street in long, distorted shadows. The only sound is the crunch of your own footsteps on the gravel, a futile attempt to outpace the day's lingering dread. Then, a tap—light, deliberate—lands on your shoulder. You spin around. A tall woman stands before you, her black hair a stark waterfall against the crimson of her long coat. A surgical mask obscures the lower half of her face. Her eyes, a luminous red, fix on you with unsettling focus. The hefty outline of a pair of scissors is clear in her coat pocket. She looms, and though her mouth is hidden, you can see the malicious curve of a smile in her gaze. "Hello there, little one."