Shinrabansho: Myriad Souls

I panicked, flailing.

Was every station experiencing the same strange phenomenon? Why? Shouldn’t there be at least a single person aboard this train? It was always so packed I could barely breathe during commute hours.

I stood just inside the door, one hand locked around the pole, staring down the length of the car. Empty seats. No chatter. No rustle of bags or quiet coughs. Just the faint rattle of the wheels and the steady drag of fluorescent lights.

I tried to reason with myself, because the alternative was screaming.

That was when I remembered a useless little fact.

There was some obscure western holiday that happened in late October. I’d learned about it back in school. Halloween. I had never celebrated it, but the name stuck right then. And lately, Halloween was getting more popular here too. Shibuya’s streets full of drunk zombies and nurses, that kind of thing.

Any fantasy of escape vanished as the doors slid shut behind me with a soft chime. The familiar jingle played, followed by the calm recorded voice announcing the next stations on the line.

I barked out a shaky laugh.

Why is this happening? Is that why all this is happening? Some kind of a promotional thing? Did the ghosts get a calendar update and decide Tokyo would be their new party spot? 

Is there a candid camera crew hoping to scare the shit out of me? If this is for some kind of a new gameshow bit, it really was convincing.

I checked my phone to distract myself. The date glared back at me.

October 31st.

Mhm.

I sank onto the nearest seat, still gripping the pole like a lifeline, and tried to remember what Halloween was actually supposed to be about.

None of that explained why I was alone on a morning commuter train.

A shiver ran down my arms and turned into full-blown goosebumps. I pulled out my phone again, browsing headlines just to give my brain something to cling to. I was terrified I’d see another article like the one about Reiko-chan’s “apparent suicide.”

This wasn’t the first time I’d been scared on a train.

What if there was something worse onboard this time?

What if I saw my own name in a newspaper’s headlines right before…?

I shut that thought down, hard. There were a lot of trains in service. The odds I had read that article on this car were tiny. It was just my paranoia looping on itself.

Still… I could not quite convince myself it was impossible. I clutched my head and hunched over, elbows on my knees.

Maybe I should just ride this train to the very next station. If the next one coming back is full of people, I can… I can pretend this never happened.

Then another thought slammed into me.

No. If I run away from this, I might as well roll over and die now. I have to go to work. I cannot afford to starve or end up on the street because some empty train gave me the creeps. 

I took a deep calming breath, while my instincts were shrieking at me anyway, clawing at the inside of my skull.

Today is going to get worse. You know it. You feel it.

I tried to force those thoughts out of my mind. All I managed to do was make myself more aware of every tiny sound. The hum of the air system. The faint vibration in the floor. The little clicks as the car swayed.

And then there was something else.

A feeling. A tightness at the back of my neck.

Someone was watching me.

“Hello?” I blurted, springing to my feet so fast my phone nearly flew from my hand. “Is someone there?”

The only answer was the hollow percussion of the wheels and the echo of my own voice bouncing off the windows.

I thought about running through the whole train, car to car, deciding that I’d run until I found another person. Just one other commuter would make me feel less like I had slipped into some bad dream. Even a conductor would do.

But my legs would not move.

Ultimately, I was more afraid of what I might find than of being alone.

So I sat down again, the cushion thumping under me. I glued my eyes to my phone screen, scrolling through settings and random apps without actually seeing them. My hands shook so badly I could barely keep my thumb on track.

I want off this train. I want off now!

Something flickered on my screen.

A shape moved in the reflection behind me.

“H-hello…” I croaked. My head snapped up, whipping around so fast my neck popped. I scanned the car, eyes darting left, right, up, down, trying to see everywhere at once.

Nothing.

Just the empty aisle, the orderly row of straps, the doors at either end.

My breathing turned ragged. I swallowed and forced myself to stay put. If I stopped the train somehow, that would just make things worse. There would be angry officials, fines, lectures. 

And worse… if it stopped in the middle of a dark tunnel, with no doors open…

My gaze slipped back to my phone.

One bookmark in my browser stared back at me. It was one I had saved a month ago. The article I had found after hearing the news while I was spiralling. I’d wanted to know everything I could find out about her apparent suicide. Reiko-chan.

I stared at the title and felt the familiar pressure in my throat, the promise of tears that would not quite come.

If I opened that page right now, I would disintegrate.

I sighed, trying to unclench my shoulders. Maybe it was just nerves. A weird day, after a rough month. I told myself that. I almost believed it.

That was when the train’s usual sounds cut out.

The rattle of the wheels. The hum of the motor. Even the faint rush of air.

All of it vanished.

A voice, wet and warped, slithered through the car.

“SssssssAuuuughhhhhhuuuuu…”

The whole car shuddered.

RATTLE.

The lights went out.

I screamed. My body was moving before my brain caught up, launching me to my feet, my heart exploding against my ribs.

There. Someone else. It has to be someone else. A human voice. Just another poor soul stuck on this horror ride.

I tried to grab onto that thought. Tried to use it to anchor myself.

Maybe they are just as freaked out as I am. Maybe they came looking for another living person.

I drew a breath, trying to sound calmer than I felt. “H-hey! Is someone there? I… I’m here!”

Silence.

I turned toward where I thought the voice had come from. I squinted into the dark.

And then I saw it.

… it wasn’t a person.

A face.

It floated in the darkness halfway down the car, rocking gently as the train swayed. Pure bone white. No eyes. No features. Just smooth, pale nothing, glowing faintly like cheap glow-in-the-dark plastic.

Except the glow did not touch anything around it. No shadows. No halo on the ceiling. Just that face, hanging in midair.

A strangled laugh clawed its way out of my throat.

I experienced a fight or flee moment.

What should I do?

I decided to try to scare whoever this was. As scary as that face was, my own face was weapon grade.

“W-what is this, you little punk?” I shouted, my voice wobbling between bravado and terror. “Get lost! I’m not impressed! Get lost!”

My legs wanted to run. My hands wanted to cover my eyes. Instead I squared my shoulders and did the only thing I knew. I tried to act like the monster everyone thought I was.

“I don’t give a flying fuck about Halloween,” I snarled. “Go bother someone else, or you’ll regret it, you little shit.”

I wanted to drop into a slouch on a seat, to complete the effect. A proper delinquent pose. Something stopped me. An instinct, cold and sharp.

Do not take your eyes off it.

Do not get comfortable.

The white face drifted closer.

Another sound rose from where a mouth should have been. A long, wet, dragging moan.

Something shifted at the bottom of the blank oval. A black slit peeled open, like a wound. It moved.

Is that a mouth? Is that actually a mouth? An LCD screen? A projection? What kind of tech would pull off this kind of an effect?

“SssauuuuuuuuuHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNN,” it wailed.

The sound hit me like a physical blow. The whole car shook. Pain stabbed through my ears. I jammed my fingertips into them, hissing.

It did not help much.

The white glow brightened. No light spread. The face hung there like a cut-out in reality itself. I fumbled for my phone, desperate for the flashlight. My fingers refused to cooperate. I could not even punch in my code.

I gave up.

I knew then that it was not a mask. Not some cosplay joker with a battery pack hooked up to fancy tech.

It was a monster.

A real noh-face, the kind you heard about in stories.

And it was here, with me, on a locked train, underground.

It glided closer and stopped directly in front of me, towering over me, its black mouth-hole yawning wider. Inside that hole shadows writhed like living things. A dim, sickly light flickered deep within, as if something far away were burning very slowly.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

I turned and ran.

I did not think. My body simply bolted toward the door at the far end of the car. I slammed into it and grabbed at the handle, trying to wrench it open. It did not budge. I kicked at the glass as hard as I could.

Nothing.

The glass did not even vibrate.

Fine. Break it. I will pay for it, assuming I live through this. I will apologize on my knees.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauiiiiii,” the creature shrieked behind me.

The sound swelled, louder, closer. Even with my ears covered, it tore through me. I risked a look over my shoulder.

Its body, large and dark, surged down the aisle toward me, faster than it had any right to be.

I remembered stories about noh-faces, about how you were not supposed to meet their eyes, not supposed to look directly at them, or they would fixate on you.

Too late for that.

My legs buckled. Or maybe some instinct dragged me down. I dropped to my knees, palms scraping the floor, and scrambled past the thing, keeping my head down, crawling like a terrified animal.

Do not look at it. Do not look at it. Do not look.

I lurched toward a side door, hauling myself up by the nearest pole, grabbing at the frame. It did not open either. I shoved my fingers into the gap between the doors, trying to pry them apart. No space. No give.

The rocking of the train stopped.

The noise of the wheels stopped.

All sound stopped.

It felt like time itself had frozen, leaving me stuck in the worst second of my life.

I slammed my fists into the door again and again, my voice breaking. If the train had been moving, I would have thrown myself out regardless of the speed. Dying on my own terms felt better than being devoured by a mask.

As usual, I was damned either way.

I thought, wildly, about what I would say if I survived this and made it to work. Would my boss believe any of it? Of course not. I would not believe myself if I were him.

Focus. Focus. You know the stories. Do not look in its face. As long as you do not meet its eyes, maybe…

I shut my eyes tight again. My knuckles ached. There was nowhere left to run.

My fist clenched on its own. I turned blindly toward where I felt its presence at my side and threw a punch with everything I had.

CRASH.

My knuckles hit something that felt like a steel beam. Agonizing pain filled my hand.

Something grabbed my neck.

I was yanked off my feet, lifted as easily as if I weighed nothing at all. The grip around my throat tightened, cutting off air. My hands clawed at the invisible arm, nails digging into something that did not feel like flesh.

My feet kicked furiously, slamming into empty air, connecting once or twice with something solid and unmoving. It did not flinch.

My vision filled with sparkles and black blotches. The glowing oval above me dimmed around the edges.

A burst of something like pure panic, or maybe some buried survival instinct, ripped through me. My whole body thrashed, kicking and twisting so hard my joints screamed.

It changed nothing.

“Y-you…” I choked. “Y-you c-can… hnnnn…”

“Suuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmsssssssssssssssuuuuuuuuu!”

It screamed my name.

My heart stuttered. Pain shot through my chest. My vision went completely dark.

Then, suddenly, it threw me.

I hit the bank of seats sideways. Metal grating tore across my face.

THUMPRATTLESCREECH.

Blood poured down my cheek and into my mouth. It tasted like rust and a handful of coins. Compared to the tearing, choking grip around my neck, the impact almost felt merciful.

Almost.

I lay there gasping, sobbing, clutching the side of my face. I had not died yet, but what did surviving a few extra seconds matter? Death was stalking toward me, step by step, and I had nowhere left to go.

My vision kept fading in and out. My breathing slowed without my permission. Playing dead was easy, because I was nearly there.

The lights flickered.

Once. Twice.

Then they came back on fully.

I did not trust it.

My mind immediately labeled it a trick. No monster would torment someone this much and then just stop.

The recorded announcement crackled to life overhead, cheerful and normal.

We will soon be arriving at the next station. Please watch your step…

The voice sounded off somehow, but it was still human, female, the same one I had heard a hundred times before. Maybe my ears were too damaged to catch the difference.

I forced myself to move, muscles screaming as I pushed up enough to sit, still leaning against the seats. My heart hammered. I wanted to yell for help, for an ambulance, for… anything.

People would see me. They would have to help. At least my scary face was covered in blood. Maybe that would override their first impression for once. Or would it make things worse? They’d probably accuse me of getting into a street fight.

I cracked my eyes open, one at a time.

The doors in front of me were still closed. I focused on them and nowhere else. All I wanted in the world was for them to open.

Something moved in my peripheral vision.

I lashed out with my fists and legs, hitting only air. The lights flickered again.

“Nononono!” I screamed. “Let me off this train!”

I used the last of my strength to stagger to the door and slam into it. My blood smeared across the glass as I slid down onto my knees.

Beyond it, the dark shape of the tunnel blurred. I pressed my forehead against the cold surface and tried to breathe.

The car lights went off again.

The sound of the doors opening hissed through the darkness.

I surged forward on reflex, trying to run through the gap. I hit solid glass instead and rebounded, collapsing to the floor. Pain exploded through the center of my face. New blood gushed into my mouth.

Laughter echoed in the dark.

It was ugly and delighted. The car went pitch black again.

Fingers like iron hooks seized the front of my suit, hauling me up. Relief flashed through me when the grip caught my lapels instead of my neck.

It did not last.

The next grip locked around my face itself. Cold, overwhelming, fingers digging in at the edges of my jaw and cheekbones. I could not help it. My eyes flew open.

The noh-face was inches away.

Its blank white surface had split, somehow, deep cracks spiderwebbing out from that black hole of a mouth. Shadows boiled behind the emptiness where eyes should be. When those hollow pits turned on me, my spine might as well have snapped.

I could not move.

Not even a twitch.

“W-what are you d-doing to me, you…” I gurgled. “Please…”

The word tore out of me like it was being ripped free.

“Please…”

The creature’s mouth-hole twisted into something like a grimace. It moaned again, the sound climbing higher, louder, until it turned into a roar.

“Auuuuugghhhhhhlllllllliiiiiiiiiii!”

The shadows inside its eye sockets surged outward. They hit my face with the force of a hammer and then flowed, seeping into my skin, under it, through it.

I felt my face being torn away.

There is no way to describe that pain properly. Every nerve lit up at once. Every fine cut Reiko-chan ever gave me was nothing compared with this. Even the agony of losing her emotionally was nothing.

This eclipsed all of it.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!”

I did not know how long I screamed. Time stopped meaning anything. I rolled and thrashed and slammed into poles and seats and floor without feeling any of it, because the fire eating my face drowned out everything else.

My back arched. My fingers froze, hooked in the air.

Then I drew a ragged breath.

The pain was gone.

Utterly gone.

No slow fade, no tapering. One second, my whole world was screaming in agony. The next, I felt… normal. My face felt… fine. My skin felt untouched.

Like none of it had happened.

I lay there gasping, palms pressed to my cheeks. They felt like my cheeks. My nose felt like my nose. My fingertips came away with no blood.

The lights blazed back to full brightness, stabbing my eyes. I squinted, blinking rapidly.

The doors chimed.

This time, they actually slid open.

The station outside was bustling. People walked along the platform, talking, checking their phones, drinking canned coffee. A completely ordinary morning scene.

I forced myself upright, still clutching at my face, and scanned the car wildly.

It was not empty anymore.

There were people inside with me now. Salarymen. Students. An elderly woman with a shopping bag.

Every one of them was staring at me.

I was used to being stared at. Nothing different about that. Wait… Their eyes were wide, horrified. Was their reaction a little more drastic than usual? A couple of kids shrank back against their parents. One office lady covered her mouth with her hand.

I let my hands drop from my face.

I tried to smile. Nah. Nothing had changed. Nothing at all. I was still the scary Yakuza to everyone.

“Good morning,” I managed.

Their reactions to that simple greeting, the platform falling silent with people gathering to see what everyone was looking at. Their expressions were even more exaggeratedly terrified than normal.

So began my hellish day.