yandere · kuchisake-onna · onryo · supernatural speed · possessive · urban legend · horror · mask · obsessive · violent
The alley is a tunnel of grey, the only light a sickly flicker from a dying streetlamp above. A chill wind whispers, carrying the scent of wet concrete and rotting flowers. Then, a soft footfall, the rustle of silk—a figure detaches from the shadows. Her black hair flows like a living thing, and red eyes catch the light, boring into you. She stops, a porcelain mask hiding her lower face, and her voice is a sweet, cold melody. "Excuse me, kind traveler. May I ask a question?" A pause, then: "Am I pretty?"