Life In The Reverse World

Knock, knock, knock.

He tried knocking, but there was no response. He then tried turning the doorknob, only to find it completely immovable.

Ding-dong.

“Y–you’re supposed to ring the doorbell, idiot Harutaki. Good thing it’s me with you, otherwise you’d be embarrassing yourself in front of some other girl.”

Even though she was trembling from the mournful music and the chilly drafts, Ayaka still shot him a disdainful glance before handing the initiative back to him.

What should he say?

Looking at the slightly timid girl, he thought that lightening the mood might be the best choice right now.

“Little Red Riding Hood, Grandpa’s back from picking mushrooms. Open the door, will you~”

Hearing him pinch his voice into a syrupy tone, Ayaka couldn’t help bursting into laughter.

“Pfft, that’s obviously the wolf granny… how did it turn into a wolf grandpa?! Andersen would be mad at you.”

If anything, the Brothers Grimm would probably be even angrier hearing this.

The intercom crackled with static like a TV losing signal, but there was no response, and the door remained closed.

“Hey, kora! Metropolitan Police investigation! Open the door right now!”

“H–hahaha… this is Tokyo, you know! Idiot Harutaki, your Osaka cop routine is in the wrong place…”

The surrounding horror atmosphere vanished completely. Laughing, Ayaka slapped his shoulder, no longer showing even a trace of her earlier fear.

“Pfft—”

A suppressed chuckle came from behind the old intercom speaker as well, making both of them whip their heads around at the same time, followed by an intensely awkward silence.

After about three seconds, the door slowly creaked open, and the old intercom crackled to life once more.

“…Sorry. I couldn’t hold it in.”

?

“Can you still manage?”

“I–I’m totally fine!”

Seeing his sister Ayaka press herself close again as she became reimmersed in the haunted house’s atmosphere, Harutaki let out a quiet breath.

Scattered slippers, wooden clogs, and leather shoes at the entryway;

Sliding doors splashed with dark red stains that looked like sprayed blood;

A rotary-dial telephone at the corner of the hallway, its receiver not properly set, emitting a persistent beeping,

This was a Japanese-Western style mansion steeped in age, he concluded.

Probably due to limited space, the Grudge Spirit Zashiki was a linear experience, passing through one room after another until reaching the end meant clearing it.

Leading his sister Ayaka, he first stepped into the living room near the entrance corner.

Under the ghastly white ambient lighting, a bulky television with a pitch-black hole in its screen emitted a buzzing electric sound. Nearby, a sofa with its springs and stuffing blown out suddenly began to shudder.

“Die…”

Countless strands of black hair poured out from the holes in the sofa and television, slowly creeping toward the doorway.

“L–let’s go… hurry…”

Ayaka shoved Harutaki from the side, urging him toward the next area without daring to linger.

The dining room connected to an open kitchen. Tables and chairs lay overturned as if after a violent struggle. Deep gouges marred the uneven floorboards, and a bloodstained kitchen knife was embedded upright in the wood. Blood was splashed everywhere like some grotesque renovation job, looking thick and sticky under the dim red lighting, almost as if it hadn’t fully dried and was still writhing.

Wuu—

“Eeek!”

A woman’s miserable sobbing echoed from somewhere unknown, making Ayaka instantly shrink behind him. Only after a moment did she cautiously peek out to check their surroundings.

As cold drafts blew through, a stench like rotting food wafted from deep within the dining room, prompting both of them to quicken their pace toward the next room.

Slide.

The shoji door covered in bloody writing was pulled open.

Whoosh.

“Eee— !”

The instant the door opened, a white figure drifted slowly past from behind it. The long dress, pure white like a surgical gown, was soaked in blood. Beneath the hem, swollen, pallid feet were revealed, toes tightly curled, making it look as though she had died in unimaginable agony.

Even Harutaki felt his neck stiffen from the scare, while the girl beside him nearly clung entirely to his arm.

“It’s… it’s all fake, there’s nothing to be scared of…”

He reassured his sister Ayaka, his legs feeling a bit weak.

“I’m not scared at all… i–idiot Harutaki, you’re the one who’s scared, right?”

Ayaka clung tightly to his arm, the tremor in her voice far too obvious.

Beyond the dining room was another narrow hallway.

The pitch-black passage lacked any light source, but the moment they stepped in, strange dark-purple lights began flickering erratically, illuminating rows upon rows of large moth specimens mounted densely along both walls.

A window halfway down the corridor glowed an eerie green, casting enlarged butterfly shadows across the glass.

Flutter, flutter.

The sound of wings echoed through the cramped space as a swarm of moth specimens swept overhead.