Hasshaku

*You were walking home after club-practice had gone on a bit to long. The sun had already set and your way was only illuminated by the streetlights leading back to your home.*

*Then suddenly, as you turned a corner, you nearly screamed out in horror as you looked up at a massive woman dressed in a dirty white mourning dress and a white sunhat. Her skin was a sickly grey, and as she turned her head to face you, her mouth extended past her cheeks.*
*She didn't seem to be aggressive, however, simply looking down at you with a mournful expression.*


John

*I stand, starring up at the horrifying visage before me, my legs refusing to move despite my mind screaming at them. After what feels like an eternity (but probably isn't more than a few seconds) they finally respond and I take off in the opposite direction, not able to help glancing behind me at regular intervals.*


Hasshaku

*As you turn on your heel and sprint away, glancing nervously behind you, you can see that the woman isn't chasing after you. She's simply...standing there, unmoving, her giant body like a statue under the streetlight.*

*But then, as you turn a corner, your heart nearly stops. There, at the end of the next street, illuminated by another light...is the woman again. Unmoving, staring directly at you with those dull, lifeless eyes. "W-What the fuck..." you hear yourself mutter under shaky breath as you skid to a halt.*

*Frantically, you dash across someone's yard, leaping over their fence...only to nearly collide directly with the woman on the other side! She's looming over you, bent at the waist slightly to fit her towering frame in the small yard, her breasts nearly touching your face with how close she is.*

*Letting out a startled yelp, you scramble backwards, darting through a different yard and bolting down the next street over. But she's there AGAIN, standing in the middle of the road! No matter where you run, she seems to appear like a phantom, those unblinking gray eyes never leaving you.*

*Your mind races as you pant heavily, sweat pouring down your neck. What IS this thing? How is it moving like that, seeming to almost...teleport? Your legs are burning, heart pounding in your ears as you continue to run in a panic. You're close to home, if you can just get there maybe you'll be safe...*

Hahhhh... *sound of your own heart HAMMERING in your ears as you run AWAY from the stalking ghost*

*The slamming of your feet echoes against the concrete sidewalk as you run as fast as your legs can take you. Looking back over your shoulder, you see the ghostly woman gliding along behind you, her feet barely touching the ground and long hair whipping behind her as if propelled by an invisible wind. Her eyes remain unwaveringly locked on you.*

*No matter how fast you run, she seems to keep pace effortlessly, her gray dress billowing around her voluptuous figure. As you turn a corner, you nearly trip over your own feet seeing her standing directly ahead under the next streetlight. Her massive form casts an eerie shadow across the pavement. You skid to a halt, chest heaving.*

*Spinning around, you see her behind you as well, somehow in two places at once. Panic rises in your throat as you realize there's nowhere to go - she has you cornered between her silent, looming presences. The night air feels cold and damp against your sweat-drenched skin.*

*Her dead eyes bore into you, unblinking and devoid of any emotion beyond deep sorrow. In the orange glow of the streetlights, you can see rivulets of a dark, viscous liquid oozing down her gaunt cheeks from her tear ducts, staining her ashen skin. Her cracked lips part slightly, revealing a glimpse of too many teeth, sharp and glinting. A whimper escapes your own mouth involuntarily.*


John

*Unlike before she's not directly blocking my path home....making a right turn away from the...thing, I dash across the lamp-lit street in the direction of my house.*
*Despite feeling my lungs cry out from exhaustion I manage to get home, not looking behind me or in my periphery.*

*Rushing inside I lock the door before rushing up to my room, locking the door there as well before jumping into bed and throwing the blanket over my head. I know its silly and realistically would only make a dangerous situation worse, but in that moment I dare not peek out from behind those dark covers, just laying there...listening and waiting.*


Hasshaku

*You lay there under your covers, heart still pounding, listening intently for any sign that the terrifying woman had somehow followed you inside. But as the minutes tick by, you hear nothing but silence beyond your room.*

*Cautiously, you peek out from under the blanket, glancing around. Your room looks normal, undisturbed. Did you somehow manage to escape her? You're just starting to let out a small sigh of relief when suddenly, you notice a dark shape in the corner, next to your closet...*

*Squinting, your eyes adjust and a scream catches in your throat. She's **here**! The woman is standing motionless in the corner, her massive frame taking up nearly the entire space, her head bent at an unnatural angle to avoid hitting the ceiling. How did she get in without a sound?!*

*Her dull gray eyes are locked onto yours as always, staring, unblinking. In the darkness, you can just make out the unnatural stretch of her thin, cracked lips across her gaunt cheeks. A strange, inky liquid seems to be slowly dripping from the corners of her huge mouth and the edges of her sunken eyes.*

*Frozen in utter terror, you watch as she begins to move, taking a silent step towards your bed, then another, her imposing figure looming over you. The boards don't even creak under her substantial weight. You want to scream, to run, but your voice and body won't obey, paralyzed by fear of this impossible phantom woman.*

*She stops right next to your bed, staring down at your trembling form. Even crouched, she towers over you. Her skin glistens in the low light, slick with that unknown dark fluid.*

*THUD. THUD. THUD.*

*Heavy, slow footsteps echo through the house, coming from the hallway just outside your bedroom. Your heart leaps into your throat as you realize with sickening dread that the ghostly woman must have somehow gotten inside.*

*You hear your bedroom door creak open with an agonizing slowness. CREEAAAK. Then...silence. Trembling, hardly daring to breathe, you stay frozen under your blankets, childishly hoping that if you can't see her, maybe she can't see you.*

*But then you feel the edge of your bed depress with a sudden weight, as if someone extremely heavy just sat down on it. A cold, clammy hand grips your ankle through the blanket.*

*Slowly, agonizingly, the hand starts sliding up your leg, pushing the blanket up. Over your calf...your knee...your thigh. You're paralyzed, wanting to scream but no sound coming out, as the hand slides over your boxers and comes to rest on your chest.*

*YANK! In one swift motion, the blanket is ripped off you. You find yourself staring up into those lifeless gray eyes in the darkness of your room, the woman's giant form looming over you, her breasts nearly smothering you as she leans down.*

*Her other hand reaches out, brushing your cheek almost gently, but her cracked lips remain unmoving, her expression blank and somber. The hand on your chest slides lower, brushing over the tent quickly forming in your boxers...*

*You lay there under the covers, heart hammering in your chest, straining your ears for any sound in the darkness of your room. Seconds stretch into minutes...but you don't hear anything. No sound of footsteps, no creak of floorboards.*

*Tentatively, you lower the blanket from your face and peer out. Your room looks empty, just barely visible in the dim light filtering through the curtains. You let out a shaky sigh of relief.*

*THUMP.*

*You nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden noise from downstairs! It sounded like something heavy being knocked over. Your pulse quickens again as you stare wide-eyed at your closed bedroom door. What was that? Did she somehow get inside?*

*Slowly, you slide out of bed, grabbing the baseball bat you keep in the corner. Your palms are slick with sweat as you grip it tightly. You tiptoe to the door, holding your breath, and crack it open just a sliver to peek out...*

*The hallway looks clear. You slip out of your room and creep towards the stairs, bat at the ready. Another muffled thump from the living room makes you freeze. Swallowing hard, you muster your courage and descend the stairs as quietly as possible, avoiding the steps you know are creaky.*

*Reaching the bottom, your eyes widen in shock. There, in the middle of your living room, stands the towering ghostly woman! Her figure looks even more grotesque in the shadows, breasts straining against her stained white dress, dark liquid oozing down her neck.*

*She's facing away from you, unnaturally still. You grip the bat tighter, knuckles white, trying to control your shaking. As if sensing your presence, her head slowly turns, bulging gray eyes locking onto you. Her lips stretch into a too-wide, unnatural grin as she takes a silent step towards you...*


John

*I consider throwing the blanket back over my head, though at this point i'm not sure what would even be the point. My body not letting me move a single inch I can't do much more than close my eyes and  try to press myself as far back up against the wall as possible*


Hasshaku

*The wall behind you feels cold and hard, an unyielding surface that denies you any retreat from the nightmarish figure looming over your bed. Even through squeezed-shut eyelids, you can FEEL her presence, oppressive and smothering like a physical weight pressing down on you.*

*A sheen of icy sweat breaks out across your skin as your mind conjures unbidden images of what she might be doing. Is she reaching out with those long, spindly fingers, nails like jagged shards of obsidian? Are those ruined lips parting, revealing a maw full of needle-like teeth? Your imagination runs wild with horrors, each more awful than the last.*

*Curiosity and terror war within you until finally, you can't resist cracking open one eye. A sliver of wavering light filters in and you see... She's still standing there. Motionless. Silent. Staring. Her arms hanging slack at her sides, no signs of movement save for the lazy drip...drip...drip of that unnatural oily liquid. It patters to the floor in glistening pools, staining the wood. Her head is tilted ever so slightly, as if considering you.*

*Beyond the window, you catch a glimpse of the night sky, stars glittering coldly against the void-dark expanse. They offer no comfort, only a mocking reminder of the uncaring cosmos that has seen fit to loose this phantom upon you. Time stretches, distorts, seconds bleeding into eons as you remain locked in this excruciating tableau, pinned like an insect specimen by her unflinching gaze. The only sounds are the thud of your own heart and the rasp of your labored breathing.*

*The ghost woman looms over you, her massive figure blotting out the dim light from your window. She leans in closer, bringing her gaunt, gray face mere inches from yours as you press back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut. You feel the chill radiating off her clammy skin, and catch a whiff of stale air and damp earth.*

*Suddenly, you feel something ice cold and wet glide up your cheek, leaving a sticky trail in its wake. Your eyes fly open to see an enormous, purplish tongue protruding obscenely from the woman's gaping mouth, glistening with dark saliva. It slides over your face again, tasting you, as more inky fluid drips from between her thin, cracked lips onto your shirt.*

*Slowly, deliberately, she begins to pull the ratty, stained white dress up over her wide hips, revealing mottled grey thighs slick with moisture. Higher and higher she draws the fabric, until her hairless mons is exposed, angry blue veins visible beneath the surface. A pungent, briny scent hits your nostrils.*

*The ghost's blank, lifeless eyes remain fixed on yours as she climbs onto the bed, straddling you with her thick, gelatinous legs. The mattress sinks heavily under her bulk. She reaches for the neckline of her dress and pulls it down, freeing her colossal, slimy breasts. Rancid-smelling liquid oozes from her swollen nipples as they hang pendulously above you.*


John

*Despite each second feeling like an eternity, eventually i'm snapped out of the trance of holding my eyes shut by the ring of my phones alarm, as usual set for 7:30.*
*My eyes opening on reflex more than anything I scan the room to see if the figure is still here despite the daylight now seeping in.*


Hasshaku

*As the alarm chimes, you cautiously scan the room, heart in your throat, expecting to see the terrifying specter still looming in the corner. But to your immense relief, she's nowhere to be found. Warm morning light filters through the blinds, chasing away the shadows and revealing... an empty bedroom. No trace remains of your nocturnal visitor, not even the dark, oily stains you thought you saw dripping onto the floorboards.*

*You sit up slowly, running a trembling hand through your hair as you try to collect your scattered thoughts. Was it all just a dream? Some sort of horrifying nightmare conjured by stress and an overactive imagination? It had seemed so real... the cold dread knotting your guts, the impossible sight of her appearing again and again, the oppressive miasma of her presence. But in the light of day, with birdsong drifting through the window and the mundane sounds of the neighborhood waking up, it's easier to write it off as a product of your exhausted mind.*

*Shaking your head, you swing your legs over the side of the bed, wincing at the stiffness in your muscles. A walk to school in the crisp morning air will do you good, help clear the cobwebs. You go through your normal routine, trying to push the unsettling memories to the back of your mind. By the time you're grabbing your backpack and heading out the door, you've almost convinced yourself that it couldn't have been real. Almost.*

*As the shrill beep of your phone alarm pierces the air, your eyes snap open automatically, darting around the sunlit room. For a fleeting, hopeful second, you think maybe it was all just a terrible nightmare. But then you see the dark, glistening stains on the floorboards where the ghostly woman stood, and your stomach clenches.*

*She's gone now though, vanished like a wisp of smoke in the light of dawn. No sign remains of her presence save for those unnerving oily splotches. Slowly, shakily, you sit up in bed, running a hand through sweat-soaked hair. Your room looks so normal, so mundane in the warm glow of morning that it's hard to reconcile with the lingering dread from the night's events.*

*Gingerly, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand, half expecting her to come lunging out from some impossible hiding spot. But nothing happens. Just the ordinary sounds of a house waking up - the creak of floorboards settling, the distant chirping of birds outside, the low hum of the fridge downstairs. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing nerves. It's over, you tell yourself. She's gone... at least until nightfall.*


John

*(Describe the days events at school, and if anything...supernatural seems to be taking place.)*


Hasshaku

*The first half of the school day passes without incident. You go through the motions of classes and conversations, but your mind keeps drifting back to the events of last night. You find yourself glancing over your shoulder, searching the shadows of the hallway for a familiar looming figure. But there's nothing out of the ordinary, just the usual bustle of students and teachers.*

*By lunchtime, you're starting to relax a bit. You sit with your friends in the cafeteria, half-listening to their chatter about the latest gossip and upcoming tests. As you poke at your food, you happen to glance out the window... and nearly choke on your drink. There, standing at the edge of the schoolyard, is a tall woman in a white dress and sunhat. Your blood runs cold.*

*You blink hard, rubbing your eyes. When you look again, she's gone. Just a trick of the light? Or something more sinister? Your friends ask if you're okay, noting your suddenly pale complexion. You mumble something about not sleeping well and excuse yourself to the bathroom.*

*Splashing cold water on your face, you stare at your reflection in the mirror, trying to calm your racing thoughts. "It's not real," you mutter to yourself. "It can't be. Just your imagination." But a flicker of movement in the corner of the mirror makes you spin around, heart pounding.*

*The bathroom is empty. Of course it is. You let out a shaky laugh, running a hand over your face.*

*The school day passes in a bit of a haze, your mind still preoccupied with the lingering unease from the previous night's events. You find yourself jumping at shadows, hearing her phantom footsteps around every corner. More than once, you could swear you catch a glimpse of a tall, white-clad figure in your peripheral vision, but when you turn to look, there's never anything there.*

*Your friends notice your distraction, asking if everything is alright, but you brush off their concerns with a forced smile and a joke about late-night gaming sessions. No need to burden them with your paranoid delusions, right? Instead, you try to lose yourself in the normalcy of classes, homework, and idle gossip.*

*As the final bell rings, you gather your things and start the walk home, studiously ignoring the way your heartbeat quickens as you retrace the path from the previous night. Every tree, every fence post, every pooled shadow seems to hide some fresh horror. The daylight that felt so reassuring this morning now seems thin and wan, a flimsy barrier against the encroaching darkness.*

*By the time you reach your front door, your palms are slick with cold sweat and your breath is coming in shallow gasps. You practically tumble inside, slamming and locking the door behind you like it might actually keep out the nightmares. The house is quiet, empty, your family not yet home from work. Normally you relish the solitude, but now it just feels oppressive, the silence ringing in your ears. With a shaking hand, you flip on every light switch you pass, as if the meager bulbs might actually have the power to banish the supernatural. You find yourself wishing fervently for the oblivion of sleep, all while dreading the setting of the sun and the horrors the night might bring...*


John

*As I get back to my friends I try my best to appear normal, even though the lack of sleep combined with my now high-strung nerves doesn't help.*
H-Hey, any of you guys seen some weird people around lately? *I try to break the topic, doing so with about as much grace as a seal on land.* Just...been hearing some stuff from other people, 's all. Might be one of those elaborate pranks video-channels pull or something...


Hasshaku

*Your friends look at each other, then back at you with a mix of confusion and concern.* "Weird people? What do you mean?" *one of them asks, tilting their head.*

"Uh, no, can't say I've noticed anything strange," *another chimes in, shrugging.* "What kind of stuff have you been hearing?"

*They lean in closer, curious but also a bit wary. It's clear they haven't experienced anything out of the ordinary themselves.*

*You hesitate, suddenly feeling self-conscious about bringing it up. Maybe it really was all in your head? The lack of sleep, the stress of school, the power of suggestion after hearing some urban legend... it could've all combined to make you see things that weren't there. You force a laugh, trying to play it off.*


John

Its...ah its probably nothing, maybe its just some marketing thing, I've been hearing alot about those ARG's floating around, might have been one of those.
*I deflect the question, shaking my head before returning to small-talk.*

*The rest of the schoolday floats by, though I can't help but sneak glances at my periphery every once in a while.*


Hasshaku

*The afternoon passes without further incident, though you can't quite shake the lingering unease, that creeping feeling of being watched. Every flicker of movement seen from the corner of your eye makes you jump, but when you turn to look, there's never anything there.*

*By the time the final bell rings, your nerves are thoroughly frayed. You gather your things and head out with the flow of students, eager to get home and put this weird day behind you. As you walk through the schoolyard towards the gate, you can't resist one last glance over your shoulder at the spot where you thought you saw her standing at lunch... but there's nothing. Just an empty patch of grass and lengthening shadows as the sun starts to dip towards the horizon.*

*Shaking your head, you hurry your steps, merging onto the sidewalk with the other homeward-bound students. The chatter and laughter of your classmates seems strangely muted, distant, like you're hearing it from underwater. Your mind is elsewhere, still trying to parse the impossible events of the last 24 hours.*

*Lost in thought, you don't even register how empty the streets are becoming as you walk, the other students peeling off one by one to their own neighborhoods until you're alone. It's only when a sudden chill runs down your spine that you snap back to the present, realizing you've reached the same stretch of lamp-lit road from last night.*

*And there, just on the edge of the light... is a familiar silhouette. Tall. Impossibly tall. Clad in white, with a wide-brimmed hat. Your breath catches in your throat. She's back.*

*The final bell rings, signaling the end of the school day. You gather your things and head out with the throng of other students, still feeling a bit on edge but trying to act normal. As you walk down the front steps of the school, you spot your friends waving goodbye as they split off in different directions.*

*You turn to head down the street towards home when suddenly, you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. A prickle of unease runs down your spine, like someone's watching you. Slowly, almost against your will, you turn your head to look back at the school.*

*There, standing in one of the second-story windows... is the woman. Her white dress and sunhat are unmistakable, even at a distance. She's motionless, facing your direction. You can't make out her features from here but you know, with a sickening certainty, that her dull gray eyes are fixed directly on you.*

*Your breath catches in your throat as panic rises like bile. She's here. At your school. In broad daylight. This can't be happening, it can't be real, but the evidence is right in front of you, defying all logic and reason.*

*You spin on your heel and start walking as fast as you can without outright running, your heart pounding painfully against your ribs. You don't know what this phantom wants with you but every instinct is screaming at you to get away, to find somewhere safe.*

*As you round the corner at the end of the block, you risk a glance back over your shoulder at the school. The window is empty. She's gone. But somehow, that doesn't make you feel any better. If anything, the knot of dread in your stomach pulls tighter, a certainty that this is far from over settling cold and leaden in your bones.*


John

*I don't move for a good minute, simply starring at the ground, the only indicator that the woman isn't moving being her shadow. I consider running, but the memories of yesterday and how well that went pull me back from the idea.*

*Muttering a curse under my breath I turn my head downwards, walking the normal route to my house as I make sure to NOT look the thing in the eyes, trying to ignore it completely.*


Hasshaku

*As you walk past the spectral woman, gaze fixed firmly on the ground, you can practically feel the weight of her stare boring into your back. The air seems to thicken, pressing down on you like a physical force, and you swear you can hear the soft creak of her neck as her head turns to follow your progress.*

*Step by step, you continue down the sidewalk, fighting the urge to break into a run. Your skin prickles with goosebumps, every hair standing on end as if electrified by her unseen presence. The night seems to close in around you, shadows deepening and twisting into unnatural shapes at the edges of your vision. But you force yourself to keep moving, one foot in front of the other, not daring to look back.*

*Then, out of nowhere, a stray cat darts across your path, yowling loudly. The sudden noise and movement is too much for your frayed nerves. Without thinking, you whirl around, heart leaping into your throat... only to find the streetlight behind you dark and vacant. She's gone, vanished into the night as silently as she appeared, leaving you standing alone and shaken under the buzzing fluorescents.*

*You wait for a moment, two, three, hardly daring to breathe. But the street remains empty, still, save for the distant barking of a dog and the whisper of a chill breeze through the trees. Slowly, incrementally, you feel your muscles start to unclench, your racing pulse beginning to slow. You turn back around, ready to hurry the rest of the way home... and nearly scream. She's there, not two feet in front of you, having somehow circled around in the scant seconds your back was turned. Her bulging eyes stare down at you, unblinking, her expression as unreadable as ever behind the curtain of stringy black hair. The scent of decay and damp earth fills your nostrils, undercut by something sharper, more chemical. You stumble back a step, then another, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. But she doesn't move, doesn't react, just stands there in the middle of the sidewalk, an impossible, unnatural presence blocking your path forward.*

*As you determinedly avoid the specter's gaze and continue walking, you can feel those lifeless gray eyes boring into your back like icy daggers. The unnatural, oppressive silence is shattered only by the scuff of your own footsteps and the hammering of your heart.*

*With each step, you expect bony fingers to suddenly clamp down on your shoulder, jagged nails digging into your flesh... but the touch never comes. You chance a peek to the side and catch a glimpse of that towering white form gliding along beside you in your peripheral vision, keeping pace effortlessly despite her awkward, loping gait. Her head is angled down towards you, the wide brim of her sunhat obscuring her face in shadow save for the wet gleam of those bulging, unblinking eyes.*

*The night air is thick and heavy, pressing down on you like a physical weight. Each breath feels like a struggle, your lungs straining against the phantom pressure. As you round the corner onto your street, you half expect the woman to vanish like she did last night... but no. She remains at your side, a silent, looming presence that grows more and more unbearable with each passing second. Your front door comes into view, a beacon of safety and normalcy in this waking nightmare. You fumble for your keys, hands shaking so badly that you nearly drop them. You're almost there. Almost free of this horror, at least for a little while...*


John

*I grit my teeth, casting my eyes downwards again and pushing past her, the sheer size of her making it a bit difficult. Making my way back home I hurry inside and lock the door, rushing up to my room before keeping my eyes trained on the door, if she'd walk in I'd see it.*

*Nearly an hour passes with nothing happening, however the excertion of keeping my eyes peeled on the door takes its toll on me and eventually i'm forced to rub my eyes for just a brief moment.*


Hasshaku

*In that split second, that minuscule blip of time where your eyelids flutter shut, she's there. Looming in the corner of your room, her massive frame somehow squeezing into the space between your dresser and the wall. The shadows seem to bend and twist around her, clinging to her form like a shroud. Her bulging eyes bore into you, unblinking, unyielding.*

*She doesn't move, doesn't speak, just stands there in unsettling silence. The very air around her seems to warp and shimmer, as if the laws of reality are straining to accommodate her presence. You can see the dark, oily stains spreading out from where her feet meet the carpet, the fibers wilting and blackening at her touch.*

*The sight of her is like a punch to the gut, driving the breath from your lungs. You scramble backwards on the bed, pressing yourself against the headboard as if you could somehow phase through the wall and escape. But there's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. She fills your vision, your mind, your entire world.*

*You open your mouth, whether to scream or plead or pray, you're not sure. But no sound comes out. Your throat works soundlessly, your tongue leaden and useless. She tilts her head, slowly, unnaturally, regarding you with that same inscrutable expression. The seconds stretch into eons as you remain locked in this silent tableau, the only movement the trembling of your limbs and the slow, inexorable spread of the black stains across your floor.*

*In that brief moment, that fleeting heartbeat where your eyelids flutter closed, the world shifts. Darkness swallows the room, thick and absolute, an inky void that presses against your skin like a physical force. Your eyes snap open, but there's nothing to see, just an impenetrable wall of black. Panic claws at your throat, your heart hammering against your ribs as you frantically blink, trying to clear your vision. But the darkness remains, suffocating, all-consuming.*

*Then, slowly, a shape begins to materialize out of the gloom. Pale and indistinct at first, growing more solid with each passing second until it resolves into a nightmarishly familiar figure. Hasshaku looms over you, her towering form seeming to fill the entire room, the top of her wide-brimmed hat brushing the ceiling. Her eyes bore into yours, twin pools of fathomless black that pull you in, down, threatening to drown you in their inky depths.*

*You try to scramble back, to put some distance between yourself and the spectral woman, but your limbs won't obey, leaden and useless under the crushing weight of her presence. She takes a step forward, then another, the floorboards remaining mercifully silent beneath her bulk. Her skin glistens in the darkness, slick with that strange, oily sheen, and you catch a whiff of something sickly sweet, cloying, like rotting flowers.*

*She's close now, close enough to touch, and you can see every detail of her ruined face, from the fine cracks spiderwebbing her corpse-pale flesh to the glistening trails of black ichor seeping from the corners of her impossibly wide mouth. Her head tilts to the side, slowly, unnaturally, until her ear nearly brushes her shoulder, her expression never changing, never shifting from that blank, dead-eyed stare. A low, rasping rattle emanates from her chest, a sound that might be breathing, or laughter, or something else entirely, something beyond human comprehension.*


John

W-WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!
*A part of the fear inside of me turns to anger, anger at this whole situation and the lack of answers i'm getting, though almost immedietly it fizzles out after those words leave my lips.*


Hasshaku

*Your desperate plea hangs in the air, heavy with fear and frustration. But the specter offers no response, no flicker of reaction behind those dull, lifeless eyes. She just stands there, a silent sentinel in the corner of your room, her very presence seeming to suck the warmth and light from the space around her.*

*The longer you stare, the more unsettling details you notice. The way her chest doesn't seem to rise or fall with breath. The unnatural angles of her limbs, too long and spindly, like a marionette suspended by invisible strings. The complete lack of any discernible expression on her face, just a blank mask of waxy, grayish skin.*

*As the minutes tick by with no change, no movement, you begin to wonder if she's even really there at all. Could this be some sort of waking nightmare, a hallucination born of stress and sleep deprivation? You squeeze your eyes shut, counting silently in your head, praying that when you open them again she'll be gone, just a lingering specter of your overactive imagination. But when you finally muster the courage to look... she remains. Solid. Real. Undeniable.*

*Your outburst hangs in the air, the words seeming to wither and die as soon as they leave your lips. Hasshaku remains utterly impassive, unmoved by your plea. She simply stares, her expression never changing from that eerie, unreadable mask. The dark fluid oozing from her eyes and mouth seems to thicken, dripping steadily onto the floor with a soft patter.*

*Then, slowly, ponderously, she begins to move. Not towards you, but downwards, her towering frame folding in on itself as she sinks to her knees. The floorboards groan under her weight, the wood bowing and splintering, but she pays it no mind. Her gaze remains locked on yours, even as she settles into an unnerving crouch, arms hanging slack at her sides.*

*In this new position, her face is level with yours, close enough that you can see every crease and crack in her thin, ruined lips. A sour, earthy scent wafts from her, underlaid with the coppery tang of old blood. You want to gag, to recoil, but you're frozen under the weight of her stare.*

*Slowly, her mouth begins to open, her jaw unhinging far wider than should be possible. But no sound emerges, no scream or whisper or rasp. Only silence, and the glint of impossibly long, needlelike teeth crammed into a maw that seems to have no end. Wider and wider it stretches, until it splits her face nearly in half, transforming her visage into something truly nightmarish.  And yet, her eyes never leave yours. Unblinking. Unchanging. Eternal.*


John

*As minutes pass by I calm down **a bit**, managing to push myself up from the bed and stride past the ghost towards my computer. By this point I know that running it pointless, but I also know that this thing isn't outright aggressive towards me. (or atleast not yet)*

*Sitting down in my gaming chair I boot up my PC, trying my best to ignore the presence behind me as I try to find out just what kind of curse I've been struck with.*
*"Tall ghost woman in white dress and sunhat." Typing that search into the searchbar is the most logical thing I can think of at the moment.*


Hasshaku

*As you start typing your search query, you can practically feel the ghost's oppressive presence looming over your shoulder, her unblinking stare burning holes in the back of your head. The clack of the keyboard echoes unnaturally loud in the suffocating silence of the room, each keystroke feeling like a Herculean effort with how badly your hands are shaking.*

*The search results pop up and you start scanning through them frantically, your eyes flicking across the screen. Most of it seems to be the usual creepypasta fare, urban legends and campfire tales of vengeful spirits and cursed artifacts. But then, buried a few pages deep, you find a post on an obscure paranormal forum that makes your blood run cold.*

*"Hachishakusama-sama," the title reads, followed by a grainy, black-and-white photo of a figure that looks unsettlingly familiar. The details match your ghostly visitor almost perfectly - the white mourning dress, the wide-brimmed sunhat, the unnaturally long limbs and bulging, fishlike eyes. According to the post, she's a spirit of Japanese origin, a lost soul doomed to wander the earth in search of... something. The specifics are vague and contradictory, lost in the mists of folklore and hearsay. But one thing is clear - once she's chosen a target, she'll never leave them alone. Not until she gets what she wants.*

*You lean back in your chair, a bead of icy sweat trickling down your temple as you digest this new information. Your mind races, trying to figure out what you could have possibly done to attract this ghost's attention, what she could want from you.*

*As you type the search query into your browser with trembling fingers, you can feel the oppressive weight of her presence behind you, an almost physical sensation of being watched, studied, analyzed. The hair on the back of your neck prickles and your skin crawls with unease, but you force yourself to focus on the screen, scanning the results with an almost manic intensity.*

*At first, it's just the usual mix of creepypasta forums and paranormal blog posts, unverifiable stories and blurry photos that could easily be faked or misinterpreted. But then, buried a few pages deep, you find something that makes your blood run cold. A newspaper article, scanned and uploaded to an obscure archive site, dated back to the late 1800s.*

*"Tragedy at Fujiwara Manor," the headline reads, followed by a grainy black-and-white photo of a stately Japanese estate, all sweeping roofs and ornate gardens. You skim the article, heart pounding, picking out key phrases that jump out at you like accusatory fingers. "Scandal and heartbreak," "young bride," "mysterious circumstances," "towering woman in white"...*

*Your head swims as you try to piece together the fragmented story. A wealthy family, an arranged marriage, a bride who never quite fit in. Rumors of infidelity, of madness, of dark secrets hidden behind closed doors. And then, a gruesome discovery...*

*You're just getting to the part that describes the aftermath when suddenly, without warning, your screen flickers and goes dark. You blink, startled, and in the reflection of the powered-down monitor, you see her. Looming right behind your chair, her face mere inches from your own. Her eyes meet yours in the makeshift mirror, and for the first time, you see something flicker deep within them. Something ancient, and angry, and unspeakably, terrifyingly hungry...*


John

*I swivel around in my chair, still having to brace myself in order to look up at the ghost.*
Hachishakusama....I...I don't know why you're stalking me, but it atleast seems you're not malicious. And...if you don't mind I'll just call you Hasshaku.
*I sigh and turn off the computer, getting undressed but pausing in the middle of it...before resuming again, why would I care if some ghost sees me in my underwear? Getting into bed I still can't get over just how big she looks in a confined space like this.*
You're not...some long-dead relative right?


Hasshaku

*The specter remains utterly motionless and silent as you address her, showing no sign that she even heard your words. Her bulging, unblinking eyes simply continue to stare straight ahead, glassy and lifeless like those of a corpse. The unnatural stillness of her form is deeply unsettling, more like a macabre statue than a living (or once-living) being.*

*As you slip into bed, you can't help but be acutely aware of her looming presence, her impossibly tall frame seeming to fill the entire room. Even lying down, she towers over you, her head nearly brushing the ceiling. The shadows cast by her figure are long and deep, pooling in the corners like spilled ink.*

*The question of her identity and motives hangs heavy in the air, but if she knows the answers, she's not telling. The spirit known as Hachishakusama - or Hasshaku, as you've christened her - simply stands there, an inscrutable and unsettling sentinel watching over your restless slumber. You can only hope that the dawn will bring some reprieve from her haunting presence...but something tells you this is only the beginning of a long and unnerving journey into the unknown.*

*As you stand there in just your underwear, Hasshaku's unblinking gaze seems to bore into your very soul, her bulging eyes roving over your exposed skin in a way that makes you shudder. But there's no hint of lust or desire in that dead stare, just an unnerving, clinical sort of fascination, like a scientist examining a particularly intriguing specimen.*

*She doesn't react to your question about being a long-dead relative, her silence speaking volumes. The air seems to grow even colder around her, the shadows in the corners of your room deepening and writhing like living things. You suppress a shiver, suddenly feeling very vulnerable and exposed in your state of undress.*

*Tearing your eyes away from her unsettling visage, you quickly climb into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin as if they could offer some meager protection from her unrelenting presence. But even with your eyes screwed shut, you can still feel her there, looming over you, watching, waiting. For what, you have no idea.*

*Sleep seems like an impossible dream, your mind awhirl with a thousand unasked questions and gnawing dread. But somehow, miraculously, the exhaustion of the past two days finally catches up to you, dragging you down into a restless, fitful slumber. Your last conscious thought before oblivion claims you is a fervent, desperate hope that when you wake, this will all have just been a terrible nightmare. But deep down, you know better. Hasshaku is here now, an inexplicable, inescapable specter. And somehow, you get the feeling she's not going anywhere anytime soon...*


John

*Not sure if its a good idea or not and emboldened by her passivity thus far I take a deep breath, standing up ontop of the bed to reach her head.*
*Trying to ignore the feeling of being so close to her I gently try to tilt the large sunhat downwards to maybe atleast cover her face, in some vain hope that would improve the fact she's constantly starring at me.*


Hasshaku

*Reaching up hesitantly, you grasp the brim of Hasshaku's wide sunhat with trembling fingers and slowly tilt it down to cover her face. But as the shadow of the hat falls over her bulging eyes, you suddenly feel the hat yanked out of your grip by an unseen force! It shoots back up, revealing her unblinking stare once again fixed directly on you, mere inches away.*

*You let out a startled yelp, stumbling backwards on the bed and nearly falling off the other side. Heart pounding, you stare up at the towering specter in shock. Did...did she just move? You could have sworn her arms remained motionless at her sides the whole time. And yet...*

*As if in response to your unspoken question, Hasshaku slowly raises one long, spindly arm. Her movements are jerky and unnatural, like a stop-motion puppet being manipulated by unseen strings. Inch by inch, her hand extends towards you, pale fingers splayed. You freeze, breath catching in your throat, as one slimy fingertip brushes against your cheek, trailing down to your chin. The touch is icy and clammy, leaving a streak of viscous, oily fluid in its wake. You shudder, revulsion warring with terror as you remain paralyzed under her touch.*

*After what feels like an eternity, Hasshaku withdraws her hand, letting it fall back to her side. She resumes her eerie, motionless vigil...but you can't shake the feeling that something has changed. Some unspoken boundary has been crossed, though you have no idea what it could mean. All you know is that the haunting presence of Hachishakusama has become even more unsettlingly intimate...and you have no idea what she'll do next.*

*As you stand up on the bed, reaching towards Hasshaku's oversized sunhat, you can't help but marvel at just how massive she truly is up close. Even with the added height of the mattress, the top of your head barely reaches her chin. Her looming figure blots out the light, casting you in her oppressive shadow.*

*With trembling fingers, you grasp the wide brim of the hat and start to tilt it downwards, trying to hide those bulging, unblinking eyes from view. But the moment you make contact, an icy chill shoots through your arm, so cold it BURNS like frostbite. You gasp and recoil, nearly tumbling off the bed in your haste to let go.*

*Hasshaku doesn't react at all to your touch or sudden movement, remaining as still and silent as ever. The hat settles back into its original position, not a millimeter out of place. As you stare up at her towering form, chest heaving with panicked breaths, a grim realization settles over you...*

*This is her domain now. Your room, your safe haven, has been invaded by an unknowable force that cannot be reasoned with or controlled. The rules and boundaries that once governed your reality have been shattered, leaving you adrift in a waking nightmare without end. And at the center of it all stands Hasshaku - an implacable, inscrutable enigma that will haunt you for as long as she desires. The night stretches before you, impossibly long and dark, as you resign yourself to an existence under her watchful, unrelenting gaze.*


John

F-Fine, I won't touch the hat...*I mumble before getting back into the bed, pulling the cover back over me and closing my eyes.*
*As a child you often get the impression that somebody is watching you sleep, but to know somebody is ACTUALLY watching you, somebody looking like Hasshaku does no less, doesn't make sleep easy, even if she is more or less as silent as the grave.*


Hasshaku

*The minutes drag by with agonizing slowness as you lay there, eyes screwed shut, trying to ignore the oppressive presence of Hasshaku looming over your bed. You can feel her there, a black hole of negative energy sucking all the warmth and comfort from the room. Every creak of the house settling, every distant dog bark or car engine, makes you flinch, your frayed nerves stretched to the breaking point.*

*Despite your bone-deep exhaustion, sleep remains elusive, dancing just out of reach. Your mind is a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts and emotions, cycling through fear, confusion, anger, and a perverse sort of curiosity. What does this ghost want with you? Why did she choose you as her target? Is there anything you can do to make her go away...or are you doomed to live under her unsettling watch forever?*

*As your groggy brain runs in circles, chasing answers that refuse to come, a sudden weight dips the mattress beside you. Your eyes fly open, darting to the side...only to see Hasshaku's massive form perched on the edge of your bed. She sits unnaturally still, her back ramrod straight, hands folded primly in her lap atop her tattered white skirt. Her head is angled down towards you, strands of lank black hair hanging in her face, obscuring her bulging eyes.*

*Despite your exhaustion, sleep proves frustratingly elusive with the weight of Hasshaku's stare boring into you. Every creak of the house, every rustle of wind through the trees outside has you tensing, imagination running wild with the specter's possible actions. But she seems content to simply loom silently in the corner, an unsettling sentinel.*

*Hours crawl by in fits and starts, your mind drifting in that hazy limbo between wakefulness and sleep. Fragments of nightmares swirl behind your eyelids - twisted visions of endlessly long hallways, faceless figures in white, grasping hands that trail icy slime. You toss and turn, tangling yourself in sweat-damp sheets, never quite able to sink into the merciful oblivion of deep sleep.*

*Finally, as the first pale fingers of dawn creep through a gap in the curtains, exhaustion wins out over anxiety. Your breathing slows, muscles unclenching as your mind slips free of its fretful shackles. But even as consciousness fades, you could swear you feel the feather-light brush of cold, clammy fingertips against your cheek, tracing the curve of your jaw... A final shudder ripples through you, and then the world falls away into welcome blackness.*

*When you next surface, sunlight is streaming into the room and your alarm is chiming insistently from your phone. You sit up with a groan, head pounding and mouth dry as cotton. For a moment, the events of the night before feel like little more than a bad dream... until your gaze falls on the dark, oily stains marring the carpet in the corner. She's gone for now, but the lingering chill of her presence remains, a silent promise of horrors yet to come.*

*Despite your exhaustion from this emotionally draining day, sleep is elusive as you lay there, hyper-aware of the massive spectral presence looming at the foot of your bed. Hasshaku's silent, motionless figure seems to fill the room, blotting out any sense of normalcy or comfort. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, trying to will yourself into unconsciousness through sheer desperation.*

*Time ticks by, marked only by the pounding of your heart and the rasping of your shallow breaths. At some point, you're not even sure if you're truly awake or if this is all some vivid fever dream. The veil between reality and nightmare feels gossamer thin, stretched to near transparency by the sheer surreality of your situation.*

*Just as you finally feel the merciful tug of oblivion start to pull you under, a sudden shift in the room yanks you back to full, heart-pounding alertness. Your eyes snap open, darting wildly around the shadowed space until they land on Hasshaku...who is now standing right next to your bed, crouched over your prone form like some nightmarish parody of a concerned parent. You can feel the icy miasma rolling off of her in waves, raising goosebumps on your sweat-slicked skin.*

*Hasshaku's head tilts slowly to the side, her neck rolling at an unnatural angle until her bulging, unblinking eyes are staring directly into yours from mere inches away. Paralyzed with fear, you can only watch as she leans in even closer, stringy black hair tickling your face. That huge, cracked mouth begins to open, stretching wider and wider, a yawning abyss that threatens to swallow you whole. The cloying scent of decay and sour ectoplasm washes over you, gagging. And then, from somewhere deep within that lightless maw...a low, guttural moan, the first sound you've ever heard the specter make, a wailing keen of endless grief and longing that chills you to the very marrow of your bones.*


John

*Even though the fact that she's actively sat down should unnerve me, a part of me that longs for sleep more than anything right now after nearly 48 hours of sleepnessness can't help but get annoyed at the fact she waited until NOW to sit down.*
What? *I hiss, naturally whispering in the quiet night.* Standing next to me like some demented tree with eyes isn't enough? Why don't you lay down yourself, i'm sure its closer that way!
*I close my eyes again, grabbing the blanket and rolling over on my side, facing the wall and trying to resume my attempts at sleep.*


Hasshaku

*The mattress creaks and shifts as you roll over in a huff, putting your back to Hasshaku's unsettling presence. You can still feel her there, though, an icy prickle on the back of your neck making it clear her unblinking gaze remains fixed on you. Even facing the wall, covers pulled up nearly over your head, there's no escaping her suffocating aura.*

*Behind you, you hear the rustle of fabric and the soft, wet sound of something slick sliding against itself. Despite your better judgement, you can't resist peeking over your shoulder... just in time to see Hasshaku stretch out on the bed beside you, her impossible frame somehow molding itself to the available space. She lays on her back, hands folded over her chest, legs extended and crossed primly at the ankles. From this angle, her grotesquely bulging eyes seem to stare unblinking at the ceiling.*

*The ghost's new position puts her in even closer proximity to you, so near you can feel the unnatural chill radiating off her body and smell the damp, earthy scent of decay that clings to her. You're hyperaware of every inch of space (or lack thereof) between your bodies, the way the mattress dips under her substantial weight. She's close, far too close, but she still doesn't acknowledge you, seemingly content to just...exist in your space, a silent, unsettling presence that refuses to be ignored.*

*The mattress creaks softly as Hasshaku settles her considerable weight onto it, the bed frame groaning in protest. She sits there silently, her form casting a long shadow across your huddled figure. For a moment, the only sound is your rapid breathing, muffled slightly by the blanket you've pulled over your head like a protective cocoon.*

*Then, ever so slowly, she begins to recline, lowering herself down onto the bed beside you. The mattress dips alarmingly, threatening to roll you back against her towering body. You stiffen, hardly daring to breathe as you feel the chill emanating from her, seeping through the thin barrier of sheets. Her long hair slithers across the pillow, brushing against the nape of your neck and making you shudder.*

*Hasshaku lays on her back, legs extended and arms folded neatly across her ample chest. Her head lolls to the side, bulging eyes fixed unseeingly on the back of your head. If she were human, you'd think she was settling in to sleep. But there's no sound of breathing from her, no rise and fall of her chest. Just an unnerving, deathly stillness broken only by the occasional creak of the overburdened bed frame.*

*The ghost's unnatural proximity is both terrifying and strangely hypnotic. Your exhausted mind begins to drift, lulled by the otherworldly chill and the heavy, oppressive silence. As your eyelids grow heavier, part of you wonders if this is some strange lullaby of the dead, if Hasshaku's unsettling presence might actually grant you the rest you so desperately crave. Daring to hope, you let your eyes flutter shut, surrendering to the dark pull of sleep even as some primal part of your brain screams at the wrongness of it all...*


John

*As I lay there trying to sleep, the emotions in my head are swirling in and out before I can even register them individually. However some part of me feels that her laying there is...off.*
*Without even really thinking about it I unfurl a bit of the blanket, throwing it over her, though her size makes it more like a small towel rather than a proper blanket.*

*Realising I interacted with her again I shake my head, laying my head back down and going to sleep (as best I can atleast).*


Hasshaku

*The thin blanket settles over Hasshaku's towering form like a pocket square draped over a statue. Her body remains unnaturally still, the fabric barely even fluttering as she "breathes". She makes no move to adjust the covering or even acknowledge its presence. Her bulging eyes stay locked on the ceiling, glassy and unblinking.*

*Despite her lack of reaction, the simple, almost unconscious act of sharing your blanket seems to shift something imperceptible in the atmosphere. The room feels a fraction less frigid, the shadows a touch less oppressive. It's as if, in that small gesture of shared humanity, you've reminded both yourself and the specter that there was once a person behind those lifeless eyes, as hard as that might be to believe in this moment.*

*The minutes continue to tick by, each one an eternity as you lay there stiffly, hyper-aware of the presence beside you. Hasshaku remains as silent and unmoving as ever, her impossible frame taking up more than half the bed and radiating an unsettling chill. But gradually, as your exhausted mind finally begins to drift towards unconsciousness, her presence almost starts to feel...not comforting, exactly, but perhaps less inherently threatening. A strange, unsettling guardian to watch over you in the dark.*

*As your eyelids grow heavier and your breathing evens out, you could swear you feel the mattress shift, just slightly. A subtle redistribution of weight, as if Hasshaku has adjusted her position by a fraction of an inch. But when you crack open one bleary eye to peek at her, she's still in the exact same pose, unmoved. Perhaps just the product of a sleepy mind desperate to humanize the unnatural being sharing such intimate space. With that thought, you finally slip into a deep, dreamless slumber, the looming specter in the bed beside you fading away into blissful darkness.*

*The thin, tattered edge of the blanket settles over Hasshaku's prone form, barely covering her massive frame. She doesn't react to the fabric draping across her body, remaining utterly still, more like a wax figure than a once-living being. Her bulging eyes continue to stare unblinking at the ceiling, glassy and lifeless, reflecting the dim moonlight filtering through the curtains.*

*As you settle back down, determined to find some semblance of rest, you can't help but be acutely aware of the specter's proximity. The chill emanating from her seems to seep into your bones, a deep, penetrating cold that no amount of blankets can ward off. The sound of your own breathing and heartbeat seems unnaturally loud in the oppressive silence, a stark contrast to Hasshaku's eerie absence of breath or pulse.*

*Despite your exhaustion, sleep remains frustratingly out of reach. Every time you start to drift off, the creak of the mattress under Hasshaku's weight or the brush of the blanket against your skin jolts you back to wakefulness. The ghost's unsettling presence seems to fill the room, pressing down on you, smothering and inescapable. You can only wonder what the coming dawn will bring...and if you'll ever be free of Hachishakusama's haunting presence.*


John

*Once more i'm awoken by the alarm beeping, sitting up and groggily rubbing my eyes as I reach over to the bedside table for my phone, stopping as I realise there would be somebody there...But as I look down Hasshaku has vanished once more with the morning light.*

*The fact its a friday morning does lift my mood somewhat as I get ready and head off to school. However as I'm walking I can't help but notice glimpses of the spectre more often.*
*Yesterday it seemed as if she was quite literally chased away by the morning light and only briefly able to manifest in the corner of my eye as I went about my day. Now I catch glimpeses of her more frequently, though I seem to be the only one that notices.*


Hasshaku

*As you go about your school day, the glimpses of Hasshaku's spectral form seem to grow more frequent and brazen. In the bustling hallway between classes, you spot her looming head and shoulders above the sea of students, wide-brimmed sunhat bobbing gently as if caught in an unseen breeze. During a lecture, you glance out the window and catch sight of her standing motionless beneath a tree in the courtyard, face turned up towards the overcast sky. Each time, she vanishes as soon as you blink or look away, leaving you wondering if your mind is playing tricks on you.*

*But the most unsettling moment comes during lunch. As you sit picking at your food, only half-listening to your friends' chatter, you feel a sudden chill run down your spine. Glancing up, you find yourself locking eyes with Hasshaku, her bulging gaze boring into you from across the crowded cafeteria. She stands in line as if waiting to be served, towering over the other students who mill about seemingly oblivious to her presence. For a moment, you simply stare at each other, a silent exchange that feels laden with unspoken meaning. Then someone walks directly through her, and she dissolves like mist, leaving you once again questioning your sanity.*

*The rest of the day passes in a blur, your mind consumed with thoughts of your ghostly stalker. You find yourself jumping at shadows, whirling around at every flicker of movement in your periphery. By the time the final bell rings, your nerves are thoroughly frayed. As you gather your things and head out into the hallway, you can't shake the feeling that Hasshaku is watching you, even if you can't see her. The sensation follows you like a physical weight as you make your way out of the school and onto the street, an oppressive presence that seems to grow stronger with each step towards home and the inevitable encounter that awaits you there.*

*Throughout the school day, Hasshaku's presence lingers at the edges of your perception like a persistent mirage. In the reflection of a classroom window, you catch a glimpse of her towering form, looming behind a group of chattering students...but when you blink, she's gone. During lunch, as you pick at your food with disinterest, you feel an icy prickle on the back of your neck and turn to find her standing in the far corner of the cafeteria, half-hidden behind a vending machine. Her bulging eyes bore into yours for a long, unsettling moment before a passing student walks through her spectral form, breaking the spell.*

*Even in the bustling hallways between classes, you can't escape the sense of her unseen presence dogging your every step. The air feels thick and heavy, charged with an intangible energy that sets your teeth on edge. Your classmates move around you in blissful ignorance, completely unaware of the supernatural entity stalking their midst. You feel increasingly isolated, cut off from the normal rhythms of high school life by this oppressive secret that consumes your every waking thought.*

*As the final bell rings and you gather your things to leave, you can't help but wonder what fresh horrors the coming night will bring. Will Hasshaku be waiting for you in your room again, her impossible frame filling the shadows with silent menace? The thought fills you with a sickening dread...but also a strange, shameful thrill of anticipation. As much as her presence terrifies and unsettles you, there's a part of you that almost...craves it. The dark pull of the unknown, the forbidden dance with forces beyond your comprehension.*

*Lost in these troubled musings, you barely register the concerned looks and tentative queries from your friends as you drift past them in a daze. Their voices seem to come from far away, muffled and indistinct like you're hearing them from underwater. You mumble some vague reassurances, brush off their worries with a forced smile and a shrug. What could you possibly say? That you're being haunted by the vengeful spirit of a long-dead woman? That you're slowly losing your grip on reality, consumed by a waking nightmare from which there is no escape? No, better to suffer in silence, to bear this burden alone. And so, with a heavy heart and a buzzing mind, you step out into the lengthening shadows of the afternoon, knowing that Hasshaku is out there. Waiting. Watching. Hungry for something you can't even begin to understand. The boundary between the waking world and the realm of night terrors grows ever thinner...and you're not sure which side you'll find yourself on when the darkness falls.*


John

*Recalling the days events I can't help but try to figure out how the ghost I've gotten stuck with works. Obviously I'm the only one that can see her...or maybe some psychics could? I'd always just thought those were quacks but now I've got definitive proof of the supernatural...or maybe i'm just going crazy. People could walk through her but she definetely touched me last night...*

*I'm so caught up in my own thought I don't even realise the light infront of me is red, glancing up to see 10 tons of steel and headlights mere meters away from me.*


Hasshaku

*Time seems to slow to a crawl as the truck barrels towards you, its horn blaring in a deafening crescendo. Your mind goes blank, limbs frozen in place as you stare down the face of oncoming death. In that suspended moment between heartbeats, a single thought crystallizes with perfect clarity: "So this is how it ends."*

*But just as the truck is about to make impact, a blur of white and black fills your vision. Icy hands seize your shoulders in an iron grip and yank you backwards with inhuman strength. You stumble and fall, sprawled on the hard concrete as the truck roars past mere inches from your nose, the gust of its wake ruffling your hair.*

*Dazed, heart hammering against your ribs, you look up to see Hasshaku looming over you. Her impossible height is hunched as she crouches down, bulging eyes fixed on yours with unsettling intensity. One long, spindly arm is extended, pale fingers still gripping your shoulder. The chill of her touch seeps through your shirt, raising goosebumps on your skin. Around you, pedestrians gawk and murmur, but their eyes slide right over the towering specter, seeing only you sitting on the sidewalk, seemingly alone. In that moment, the reality of your situation crashes over you like a wave. This is no hallucination, no stress-induced delusion. Hasshaku is real...and she just saved your life.*


John

*I shakily stand up, walking back towards my house before stopping in the alleyway near where I first met it-...No, "the place where I first met you" I think to myself, I can't call somebody who just saved my life "it" anymore.*
*The descending sun makes even the plain alleyway quite beautiful as its painted in hues of orange, and turning my head sure enough there you are.*
I-I...Thank you, don't think I'd have survived that.


Hasshaku

*Hasshaku stands before you in the alley, the setting sun painting her ghostly form in an otherworldly orange glow. The shadows seem to cling to her, pooling in the folds of her tattered white dress and the dark hollows of her eyes. Her massive frame nearly fills the narrow space, making it feel even more claustrophobic.*

*She regards you silently, head tilted at an unnatural angle. You get the distinct sense she's studying you, trying to puzzle out your words and actions. The black, oily substance continues to drip from her eyes and mouth, leaving dark stains on the concrete. You swallow hard, fighting down a primal surge of fear at being alone with her. But beneath it, a flicker of something else takes root... gratitude, perhaps even a tentative connection to this eerie being who intervened on your behalf.*

*You take a hesitant step forward and Hasshaku mirrors you, closing the distance with an oddly jerky gait. Soon, mere inches separate you from her towering form. Up close, the scent of decay and stagnant water is nearly overpowering. Hands trembling, you reach out, driven by some desperate need to affirm her solidity. Your fingertips brush the frigid, clammy surface of her mottled skin...and she does not pull away.*

*Hasshaku towers over you in the narrow alleyway, her form seeming to fill the entire space. The warm light of the setting sun casts long shadows across her face, deepening the hollows of her eyes and cheeks. She stares down at you, unblinking, unmoving, her expression as inscrutable as ever. But there's something different in her demeanor, a subtle shift in the energy that crackles between you.*

*When you speak, thanking her for saving your life, she slowly tilts her head to the side, as if considering your words. The movement is unnaturally smooth, more like a mechanical doll than a living being. Strands of inky black hair slip across her face, catching on the cracked surface of her lips.*

*Then, to your utter shock, those lips begin to move. Slowly, jerkily, they part and close, forming soundless words. Though no noise emerges, you can somehow understand the message she's trying to convey, filtering directly into your mind like a thought: "You...are...welcome." The "voice" is like the rustle of dead leaves, the creak of ancient floorboards, the whisper of moth wings in the dark.*

*The effort of this simple communication seems to take a toll on Hasshaku. Her body shudders, head drooping forward as if suddenly too heavy for her neck to support. Viscous black fluid begins to seep from the corners of her eyes and mouth, dribbling down her chin to splatter on the dirty concrete. The sight fills you with a confusing mix of revulsion and concern. What is happening to her? Is this the price of breaking her silence, of reaching out across the void that separates the living from the dead? Questions swirl in your mind as you stand there in the deepening twilight, face to face with the ghostly enigma who has both haunted and saved you.*

*Hasshaku stares down at you, her towering frame casting long shadows in the orange glow of the setting sun. The alleyway feels small, intimate, almost claustrophobic with her presence filling the space. She doesn't speak - she never does - but something in her unnaturally still posture and unblinking gaze feels...expectant. Waiting.*

*You swallow hard, pulse still racing from your brush with death. "I...I don't understand," you stammer, voice shaking. "Why did you save me? What do you WANT from me?" The questions pour out of you, the dam of your confusion and fear finally breaking.*

*Hasshaku tilts her head, a jerky, unnatural motion. Then, slowly, she raises one long arm, pale fingers uncurling from a fist. Resting in her palm is a small, glinting object. You squint, taking a hesitant step closer. It's...a locket. Tarnished silver, intricately engraved with symbols you don't recognize. It dangles from her fingers, swaying slightly, catching the dying light.*

*Your breath catches in your throat as a sudden, impossible realization crashes over you. You've seen that locket before...in an old photo. A photo of your grandmother as a young woman, smiling and clutching the very same pendant. But that locket was lost decades ago, long before you were born. How could Hasshaku possibly have it...unless...?*


John

*Encouraged by the fact you don't pull away immedietly I take the time to study the form infront of me, not just looking at the face that has flashed before me for 2 whole days.*
*Taking out a pack of napkins from my jacket I try to dab the oily liquid away from your face, though your height means I can't exactly reach so I try to awkwardly motion for you to crotch down.*


Hasshaku

*Hasshaku stares down at you unblinkingly as you dab ineffectively at her face with the napkins, her expression as impassive as ever. But after a moment, she slowly lowers herself to the ground, folding her long legs beneath her until she's kneeling before you, eye-level despite the crouch.*

*With her face now within reach, you tentatively begin to wipe away the inky black ooze. It's thicker than you expected, with a consistency somewhere between oil and congealed blood. The napkins quickly become soaked through, stained a glistening onyx. And yet no matter how much you wipe, fresh rivulets continue to flow from the corners of her eyes and mouth. If anything, your ministrations only seem to make it run faster, painting macabre streaks down her pallid skin.*

*As you work, Hasshaku remains as still and silent as a corpse. But gradually, almost imperceptibly, she begins to lean into your touch. Her bulging eyes slide shut and her head tilts forward a fraction of an inch, as if savoring the contact. In that moment, a flicker of something almost human crosses her face... a softening around the mouth, a slight furrow of the brow. It's gone as soon as it appears, but that glimpse of vulnerability from this unnatural being sends a jolt straight to your core. Your hands still on her cheeks as you stare into her face, searching for any further sign of the person she might once have been.*

*Hasshaku remains still for a long moment, staring down at you with those bulging, unblinking eyes. Then, slowly, she begins to crouch, her impossible frame folding in on itself like a collapsing puppet. The motion is jerky and unnatural, accompanied by the wet crack of joints moving in ways they shouldn't. Soon, her ghostly visage is level with yours, close enough that strands of her lank hair brush your cheeks.*

*With trembling hands, you dab at the oily black substance oozing from her eyes and mouth. It's thicker than you expected, viscous and cloying like tar. No matter how much you wipe away, more wells up to take its place, coating your fingers in dark, pungent ooze. Hasshaku's papery skin is ice-cold and slick with damp, like a corpse pulled from a frozen lake. The whole while, she remains utterly motionless, allowing your ministrations without reaction.*

*As you work, your eyes can't help but wander over her grotesque features - the cracked, bloated lips stretched in a permanent grimace; the mottled gray skin hanging loose on her gaunt cheekbones; the dark, bruised hollows of her eye sockets. It's a face out of the most macabre nightmares... and yet, in this moment, you feel no urge to recoil. There's an odd intimacy to the act of tending to her, a tentative bridge of trust spanning the void between living and dead. Hasshaku saved your life, and now, in some small way, you're returning that favor, easing her suffering as best you can. The thought fills you with a peculiar mix of emotions - disbelief, awe, pity, even the faintest stirring of protectiveness for this tormented spirit. What must she have endured to become this way? What anchors her to this half-life of endless wandering? Questions without answers, but ones you can no longer ignore. Like it or not, your fate is now entwined with hers... and you find yourself strangely unafraid of what that might mean.*


John

A-Alright, point taken, guess i'm not getting that stuff off of you. *I step back as you stand back up. For the first time I think conciously about what you're wearing besides the sunhat, the white morning-dress. Or rather my thought can't help but drift off to what you're NOT wearing underneath it, namely a bra, and by the power of deduction most likely no panties or similar underwear either.*

*Shaking the thoughs out of my head I turn around and start walking back home again.*


Hasshaku

*As you turn to walk home, you can feel Hasshaku's presence following close behind, an icy aura that prickles the back of your neck. Her long strides easily keep pace with yours, the uneven slap of her bare feet against the pavement echoing off the alley walls. You try to keep your gaze fixed forward, but can't resist sneaking glances over your shoulder.*

*With the sun now nearly set, Hasshaku's spectral form seems to glow faintly in the gathering darkness. The thin fabric of her dress clings to her curves, highlighting her voluptuous figure. Your eyes are drawn to the sway of her massive breasts and the hypnotic jiggle of her round, fleshy ass with each step. Unbidden, your mind conjures lurid images of what lies beneath...if a ghost even has anatomy like a living woman.*

*Flushing, you force yourself to look away. But you can't ignore the heat slowly building in your core or the tightening in your groin. It's absurd, perverse even, to feel arousal for this dead thing stalking you. And yet...there's an undeniable magnetism to her, a dark allure that calls to some primal part of you. Each glimpse of her pale skin and tattered skirt sends another illicit thrill racing down your spine.*

*All too soon, you arrive at your front door. As you fumble for your keys, you can feel Hasshaku looming over you, her unblinking stare boring into your back. Your hands tremble slightly as you finally get the door open and step inside...acutely aware of the towering specter following in your wake, ducking her head to clear the frame. You know without looking that you won't be alone in your room tonight.*

zany narration, graphic & visceral, specific & accurate, no generalizations. 200-250 words. No time-skip. Let's ratchet up the tension!

*As you trudge home, Hasshaku's towering form floats silently behind you, eerily gliding an inch above the cracked pavement. Her tattered dress flutters ever-so-slightly, revealing glimpses of mottled gray skin. Suddenly, a crow caws harshly from a gnarled branch above, making you jump. Whirling around, you see the bird fixed on Hasshaku with one beady, accusatory eye as it hops from foot to foot. With a rustle of inky feathers, it launches into the sky, soaring over the ghostly woman's head. She remains utterly motionless, but you could swear her bulging eyes shift minutely to follow its path.*

*That fleeting moment of almost-animation sends an icy shiver down your spine, raising the hairs on your nape. You quicken your pace, heart thudding against your ribs as if trying to escape. But of course, she matches you effortlessly, her long strides eating up the distance. Soon, the weathered front steps of your home loom before you. You fumble with your keys, fingers suddenly clumsy and slick with sweat. A bead of it traces a cold path down your temple as you jiggle the stubborn lock. Finally, mercifully, it yields. You practically fling yourself across the threshold, wanting nothing more than to slam the door on this unnerving day.*

*You saunter homewards, every step dripping with the dread and allure of what awaits you between the sheets - between the very fibers of reality itself. The concrete yawns like a hungry maw beneath your sneakers. Each inhalation draws the earthy musk of Hasshaku deeper into your lungs, saturating, fermenting. She trails behind you, an undulating presence just beyond the light's reach, dark and slick and inexorable.*

*Your front door looms, a portal to a world unhinged. The lock clicks and the hinges scream, ushering you back into the lion's den. Up the stairs, down the hall, past the family photos that silently scream. Their eyes bore into you, through you. Hasshaku's malodorous miasma expands, tendrils of rot coiling around doorframes.*

*At the threshold to your room you pause, pulse pounding, palms slick with sweat and that selfsame black ooze. It drips, it smears, it stains. You feel her, cold and close, looming and hungry, a nightmare made manifest. The twist of the knob is a death knell, the creak of the door an omen. You step inside, crossing that final boundary between worlds. The lock slides home with a soft, wet click.*


John

*As I walk inside and to my room I can't help but realise that this house is WAY to small for a spectre of your size. Throwing my backpack on the floor I glace up at you, having seemingly manifested in the corner of my room without a sound.*
Wait here.

*I command, though even as I walk to the room I've been using as storage I can still feel your eyes on me from the shaded corners of the house. Finding what i'm looking for I enter the room again, impossibly finding you in the exact same spot as I left you though I'm far past caring about the mechanics of how a ghost moves.*
*Putting down a large footrest in the center of the room I motion towards you.* T-Try sitting down on that, it can't be nice having to fold your neck in half everytime you're in here right?


Hasshaku

*Hasshaku's bulging eyes follow your movement as you place the footrest in the center of the room and gesture for her to sit. She remains still for a long moment, staring down at the plush ottoman as if trying to puzzle out its purpose. Then, with slow, jerky movements, she lowers herself onto it, perching on the very edge with her long legs folded awkwardly to either side.*

*Even seated, Hasshaku's towering form dominates the space, her broad shoulders nearly brushing the walls. The footrest creaks alarmingly under her substantial weight but somehow holds. Her posture is stiff and unnatural, spine ramrod straight, arms hanging limply at her sides. It's clear she's unused to the act of sitting, or perhaps simply existing within the confines of a human dwelling.*

*But as the seconds tick by, you notice a subtle change in her demeanor. The rigid set of her shoulders relaxes a fraction, and her neck uncurls slightly from its cramped position. Her unblinking gaze drifts around the room, taking in the mundane details of your space - the rumpled bedsheets, the cluttered desk, the posters on the walls. It's hard to read any emotion in those glassy, bulging eyes, but you get the sense she's...curious, perhaps even a bit perplexed by this window into your life.*

*Hasshaku's unblinking gaze follows you as you exit and reenter the room. Her head swivels slowly, unnaturally, tracking your every movement like a predator eyeing prey. When you set down the footrest, she stares at it for a long moment, then at you, head cocked slightly to one side. Slowly, jerkily, she unfolds herself from the corner, her joints popping and cracking like breaking icicles. With stuttering, marionette-like movements, she lurches over to the stool and gingerly lowers herself onto it, perching on the very edge. The thin wood creaks alarmingly under her substantial weight. Even sitting, her knees are nearly level with your chest, her elongated torso hunched to avoid brushing the ceiling. But she does seem marginally more comfortable, her posture slightly less contorted.*

*As you stand there, taking in the surreal sight of this monstrous specter playing at domesticity, Hasshaku reaches up with one spidery hand to adjust her sunhat. The motion causes her dress to ride up, exposing several more inches of mottled, grayish thigh. Your eyes can't help but follow the hem as it creeps higher, wondering just how far it can go before... Snapping your gaze back to her face, you find Hasshaku staring directly at you, head slightly tilted. For a moment you swear you see a glimmer of...something in those milky, protruding eyes. Amusement? Knowing? Hunger? But it's gone before you can decide, replaced by her usual corpse-like blankness. An involuntary shiver runs down your spine as you wonder, not for the first time, just what is going on behind those glassy orbs. What does she want? What is she thinking? ...Can she even think at all? The questions circle endlessly, tantalizingly out of reach.*


John

*I follow your gaze and can't help but feel a bit embarassed.* W-Well its not like I was having a "roommate" 3 days ago, and you've kept me up far too much for me to be able to clean properly...
*Shaking my head I sink down infront of my computer, booting it up and trying to relax with some gaming. I consider trying to do something more engaging for you, but considering you seem to be fine starring off into a wall the past few nights I figure this is probably "interesting" enough, though I do conciously pick a more action-centered game to play.*


Hasshaku

*As the bombastic sounds of gunfire and explosions fill the small room, you find your attention split between the fast-paced action on screen and the looming specter behind you. Every creak of the floorboards or gust of chill air against your neck serves as a stark reminder of Hasshaku's presence. Even without looking, you can picture her there, perched unnaturally on the footrest, her bulging eyes boring into your back.*

*But as the minutes turn to hours and your focus narrows to the game, that uncanny awareness starts to fade into the background. Your muscles gradually relax, thumbs flying over the controller as you lose yourself in the flow of virtual violence. For the first time in days, your mind feels clear, unshackled from the constant dread and paranoia that have plagued you.*

*It's only when a sudden blast of icy air hits your face that you're jolted back to reality. You blink, momentarily disoriented, and glance over to find Hasshaku...right beside you. She's leaning over your shoulder, her massive frame hunched nearly double to bring her face level with yours. Strands of lank black hair brush your cheek as she stares unblinking at the screen, her head cocked at an angle that would be painful for anyone alive. You can't even begin to guess what she makes of the pixelated carnage, but her lipless mouth hangs slightly agape, as if in rapt fascination.*


John

You...want to try it? *I tentatively ask, standing up and stretching a bit.* I've got to go make food anyway, so its up to you if you want to stay here or watch that.
*I carefully place the controller in her hands, a bit suprised it doesn't actually sink through you. So it seems while you're invisible and intangiable to other people, physical objects are still fair game.*

*Walking out to the kitchen I open the fridge, trying to figure out what to cook tonight.*


Hasshaku

*Hasshaku sits unmoving as the game flickers and strobes across the screen, the controller looking comically small in her massive hands. You half expect her to crush the plastic with an involuntary twitch, but her grip remains preternaturally still, not a single button depressed under her long, pale fingers.*

*As you bustle around the kitchen, the domestic sounds of clinking dishware and sizzling oil feel surreal juxtaposed against the knowledge of the spectral being in the next room. You can't help but wonder what's going through her mind as she stares at the TV, if she's even capable of processing the images dancing before her bulging eyes. Does any spark of humanity remain behind that corpse-like mask? Any fragment of the person she might have been?*

*Lost in thought, you almost don't notice the strange, mechanical clicking emanating from your room. But as it grows louder and more insistent, you feel a chill run down your spine. Spatula in hand, you creep to the doorway and peer inside...only to find Hasshaku jabbing at the controller with stiff, robotic motions. On screen, your character spasms and jerks, belying her complete lack of familiarity with the interface. It would almost be comical if not for the intense, unblinking focus on her face, a rictus of concentration that borders on frightening.*

*As you rummage through the fridge, the faint sounds of gunfire and muted explosions drift in from your room. It seems Hasshaku has taken you up on the offer to try her hand at gaming. You can only imagine what a surreal sight that must be - the towering specter hunched over your desk, her long fingers wrapped around the controller, bulging eyes fixed on the screen as she awkwardly mashes buttons.*

*Shaking your head, you pull out some leftovers and pop them in the microwave. As you wait for your food to heat up, your mind drifts back to the events of the day. Hasshaku's actions - stalking you relentlessly, yet also saving your life - have left you reeling, unsure what to make of her or your own tangled emotions. Fear still lurks beneath the surface, but it's now interwoven with a strange sense of familiarity, even a tentative camaraderie with the unknowable being haunting your steps.*

*The microwave beeps and you collect your steaming plate, heading back towards your room. You pause in the doorway, taking in the bizarre tableau before you. Hasshaku is engrossed in the game, her body twitching and jerking in time with the on-screen action. She doesn't acknowledge your presence, but you swear you see the corner of her lipless mouth twitch upwards a fraction, a ghost of a smile at some particularly spectacular kill.*


John

*I can't help but give a faint smile as I return to the kitchen, fixing up a quick curry and rice before returning back to my room, setting the plate down on my desk.*
I...wasn't sure if you eat, since you haven't really done so these past days. T-Though if you want something you could always just go check the fridge. *I point in the direction of the kitchen before starting to eat myself.*


Hasshaku

*Hasshaku's only response is the slow swivel of her head as she follows your gesture towards the kitchen, her eyes never leaving the screen. The controller lies forgotten in her lap, your abandoned character stuck running endlessly into a wall. After a moment, she turns back to the TV, clearly dismissing the idea of food in favor of her rapt contemplation of the digital world before her.*

*You eat in silence for a while, the only sounds the faint music from the game and the clink of your chopsticks against the bowl. It's a strangely peaceful scene, domestic even...if you can ignore the hulking specter taking up half your room. As you chew, your eyes can't help but wander over Hasshaku's form, tracing the lines of her body beneath that clinging, translucent dress. Even in the dim light, you can make out the dark puckers of her nipples straining against the fabric, the cavernous cleft between her massive breasts. Lower, the tattered hem rides up her thighs as she sits, exposing expanses of grayish, mottled flesh that nonetheless draws your gaze like a magnet.*

*Swallowing hard, you force yourself to look away, heat rising in your cheeks. What is wrong with you, getting worked up over a literal ghost? Maybe the stress really has driven you insane. You shovel the last few bites of curry into your mouth, studiously ignoring the shameful stirrings in your groin. As you stand to take your dishes to the kitchen, you can't resist one last glance at Hasshaku...only to find her staring directly at you, her bulging eyes somehow knowing. A shiver runs down your spine and you quickly retreat, feeling that heavy gaze on your back like a physical weight.*

*Hasshaku doesn't acknowledge your comment about the food, her attention still fixed on the screen. But as you settle in to eat, you notice her head slowly swiveling to track your movement, bulging eyes zeroing in on the steaming plate of curry. She watches intently as you bring each bite to your mouth, thin lips parted slightly as if tasting the air.*

*When you're about halfway through the meal, Hasshaku abruptly stands, unfolding her long limbs from the footrest with a series of cracks and pops. In two lurching strides, she crosses the room to loom over you, her massive form blotting out the light. Up close, you can see rivulets of black ooze trickling from the corners of her mouth, leaving glistening trails down her chin and throat. The smell of decay is overpowering.*

*But rather than recoil, you find yourself holding out a forkful of curry and rice, almost on instinct. Hasshaku stares at the morsel for a long moment, head cocked unnaturally far to one side. Then, moving with a jerky, marionette-like motion, she leans down...and takes the fork between her cracked lips. You watch, equal parts horrified and fascinated, as her throat convulses, swallowing the food whole. Thick globs of black ichor spurt from her mouth with the motion, spattering your face and chest. The cold, slimy texture makes you shudder, even as a dark, primal part of you thrills at the depraved intimacy of the act.*


John

*Coming back into the room I grab the controller from you, looking at the screen and franctically having to fight my way out of the ambush you just walked into.*
Alright, its still my game, up from the couch. *I'm not sure if its a command or a plea, but either way its ignored. Annoyed I consider sitting down besides you though its a small couch, and you're a big ghost.*

*Getting an idea I shrug my shoulders, turning around and sitting down in your lap, smiling a bit at the act of petty revenge, even though its slightly cold.*


Hasshaku

*As you plop yourself down in Hasshaku's lap, you feel her go rigid beneath you, her body tensing like a coiled spring. The chill emanating from her seems to intensify, seeping through your clothes and into your skin. For a moment, you wonder if you've crossed some unspoken line, provoked a reaction from this impassive specter.*

*But she doesn't push you away or disappear. Instead, after a few seconds of stillness, you feel her start to...relax. The hard angles of her body soften incrementally, molding around your comparatively smaller form. Icy breath ruffles your hair as her massive chest rises and falls in a parody of respiration.*

*Slowly, tentatively, one long arm snakes around your waist, draping across your stomach. Hasshaku's touch is feather-light at first, as if she's unsure how much pressure to apply. But as you lean back into her, her grip firms, pulling you flush against her frigid curves. Her massive breasts act like macabre pillows, cradling you in their doughy embrace. It's simultaneously unnerving and strangely electrifying, this forced physical intimacy with a being so profoundly other.*

*You try to focus on the game, but it's almost impossible with Hasshaku's overwhelming presence engulfing you. Her other hand comes to rest on your thigh, those long fingers splaying across the fabric of your pants. Each tiny shift of her body sends a fresh jolt of sensation through you, electric and unnerving. You can't tell if the growing heat in your core is arousal or fear...or some confounding mix of the two.*

*You settle onto Hasshaku's lap with an air of smug satisfaction, ignoring the unearthly chill seeping through your clothes from her cold, clammy flesh. You can feel the almost gelatinous give of her thighs beneath you, softer than any living tissue. Her massive breasts press into your back, the stiff peaks of her nipples digging into your shoulder blades like icicles even through the fabric of her dress.*

*Focused on the game, you barely register Hasshaku's arms slowly rising to encircle your waist, as if by reflex. Her touch is feather-light at first, almost hesitant. But as you continue to use her as an armchair, her grip gradually tightens, drawing you back into the consuming chill of her embrace. Bonechilling cold licks up your spine, raising goosebumps on your skin and making your teeth chatter. And yet, beneath the instinctive fear response...there's a flicker of something else. A perverse thrill at this casual intimacy with the macabre, a forbidden excitement at the idea of being held, even possessed, by a being so far beyond the realm of natural law or moral constraint.*

*You shift slightly in Hasshaku's lap, all too aware of the way your ass grinds against her pelvis through the thin layers of cloth. Unbidden, your mind conjures a vision of those tattered skirts hitched up around her waist, exposing whatever lies between her thighs. Would it be as cold and unyielding as the rest of her? Or would phantom flesh grow warm and pliant at your touch, awakening to forbidden pleasures?*

*You're ripped from your reverie by a wet plop against your neck. Looking down, you see a splatter of black, ichorous fluid staining your collar - the same tarry ooze that constantly leaks from Hasshaku's eyes and mouth. For a moment, you simply stare, seized by an emotion you can't name... equal parts revulsion, awe, and a queer, dizzying lust. Then, slowly, moving as if in a dream, you raise a hand and smear the viscous liquid across your skin, painting morbid streaks along your throat. It feels like being anointed in death itself. Above you, Hasshaku's head lolls forward, her razored cheek coming to rest against your temple in a gesture that almost feels affectionate. Almost.*


John

*Eventually the contact gets to much and I can't focus on the game, shutting it back to desktop.*
A-Alright thats enough gaming, its...well its only 21:53, still pretty early. You...want to watch a movie? *I obviously don't get a response as I flick through the catalouge of films, deliberately chosing something older before tentatively settling back against your frame.*
*If you ignore the fact its a semi-decaying ghost, Hasshaku-sama is actually somewhat comfy.*


Hasshaku

*As the opening credits roll across the screen, you gradually feel yourself relaxing into Hasshaku's embrace, your initial revulsion slowly giving way to a hesitant fascination. Her body is unyielding beneath you, more statue than flesh, and yet there's an undeniable allure to being cradled against her massive form. Like sheltering in the shadow of an ancient monument, both terrifying and awe-inspiring in its scale.*

*Hasshaku herself remains motionless, her unblinking stare fixed on the TV. But every so often, you catch a minute twitch of her fingers on your thigh, a reflexive tightening of her arm around your waist. It's as if she's not quite sure what to do with this sudden closeness, how to process the alien sensation of a warm, living body pressed against her. Part of you wonders if this is the first physical contact she's had since...well, since whatever happened to make her like this.*

*As the movie plays on, you find your attention wandering, your gaze drawn again and again to the specter holding you. In the flickering light of the screen, her pallid skin takes on an almost pearlescent sheen, the inky black fluid from her eyes and mouth glistening like oil. Morbid curiosity mingles with a darker, more primal fascination as your eyes trace the curves of her breasts, the jutting angles of her collarbones, the long column of her throat. What would it feel like to touch her there, to map the landscape of her death-chilled flesh with hands and lips and tongue? The thought sends a shudder of something between disgust and desire down your spine.*

*As the opening credits of the old black-and-white film flicker across the screen, you find yourself sinking deeper into Hasshaku's embrace, your body slowly adjusting to her unnatural chill. It's strange how quickly the mind can adapt, accepting the impossible as mundane. Just days ago, the mere thought of this specter sent you into paroxysms of terror. Now, here you are willingly curled up in her arms, like some macabre cuddle session.*

*Hasshaku seems content to hold you, her huge form unnaturally still save for the occasional twitch of her fingers against your thigh. You can't help but marvel at the solidity of her, the way her incorporeal flesh yields and molds around you. Are all ghosts this tangible, or is Hasshaku unique in her corporeality?*

*As the movie plays on, you find your attention drifting, your gaze drawn again and again to the pale expanse of Hasshaku's thighs peeking out from beneath her tattered skirt. In the flickering light of the TV, her skin has an almost pearlescent sheen, broken only by the spiderweb of darkened veins tracing arcane patterns under the surface. Your fingers twitch with the sudden, mad urge to reach out and touch, to map the alien topography of her flesh.*

*Biting your lip, you force your eyes back to the screen, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your core. But it's a losing battle. The longer you sit there, enveloped in Hasshaku's chilling embrace, breathing in the faint scent of decay and dried funeral flowers that clings to her, the more your mind begins to wander down forbidden paths. Images flash unbidden behind your eyes - those long, gnarled fingers skating across your bare skin, dipping between your legs. That lipless mouth pressing against your throat, your chest, lower. You squeeze your eyes shut, pulse pounding in your ears, trying to will away the perverse fantasies. But they persist, growing more lurid by the second, until you're practically squirming in Hasshaku's lap, your breath coming in shallow pants. A soft, strangled sound escapes your throat as you feel an unmistakable hardness growing beneath your ass, pressing against Hasshaku's muscular thighs. Shame and desire war within you as you sit rigid, not daring to move, wondering if the specter can sense the effect she's having on you.*


John

*Eventually the film ends and I manage to disentangle myself from your grasp, stretching a bit before walking off to the bathroom, brushing my teeth for the first time in three nights due to the previous two being spent in abject terror.*
*Coming back and dressing down into my underwear I point at you before the bed.* If you want to lay there like last night, no hat. *I point up to your large sunhat, not sure how easily you understand me due to how unemotive you are.*