It was a weekday during the middle of winter. It was the off season, so I reserved some space at the campgrounds. I put my tent up between the pine trees as a light rain fell on the beach.
I sat down inside and started cooking some rice in the front half of the tent when I heard something behind me.
It was between the ground and the bottom of the tent. I thought it had to be a mouse, so I threw something and the sound stopped.
Even so, ten minutes later it started again.
Something that brave couldn’t be a mouse. I started to feel uneasy.
I was drinking, and every time I started to feel good it appeared again, pissing me off. As the night went on and my bottles were drained, I hit upon an idea. Come to think of it, weren’t there red crabs nearby? Judging by the size of it, it had to be that.
With the help of alcohol I decided I would catch it. The moment it started again I would grab it through the bottom sheet of the tent.
What I grabbed wasn’t a crab. It was a child’s hand.
It was warm.
And then it withdrew.
Want even more Japanese horror?
Grab over 81 brand new tales right now!