Free Japanese Gothic Tales by Kyoka Izumi

basket. Without losing his step, he quietly descended the hill until he was standing on level ground. One side of the area led to the road along which the proces sion was fast approaching. Closer to the valley, eight tatami mats had been laid out on a spot that had been worn bare of grass and was stained dark with oil."
    The priest paused and pushed the porcelain hibachi toward the veranda. Looking down, he put the edge of his hand to the tatami.
    "Standing on that bare ground, the gentleman thought he could make out the shape of someone sitting there."
    The priest shifted his legs and put his hand on his knee. Glancing outside, his visitor noticed that th e clouds had rolled up the moun tain a nd were almost touching the eaves of the hut.
    "The dark figure reached out and waved a hand, inviting him to come closer. The gentleman slowly stepped forward and stopped when he was five or six yards away. He observed the man, who, with out looking up at him, reached over, took up the wooden clappers that were resting on the ground beside his knee, and knocked them together. Kachi, kac hi . The sound echoed loudly, making him clench his teeth. And then—"
    "What?"
    "A curtain opened. It was nothing but a dirty, torn piece of cotton sail."
    "A curtain?"
    "That's right. He could see it through the haze, stretched out on the hillside across the way. The man sitting on the ground pulled the rope that opened it. Or so it seemed.
    "There was a tomb carved into the hillside, quite a large one apparently, the opening about two yards across. That's not unusual around here. Tombs are all over in these mountains. The farmers use them for storing pickles or for growing vegetables. Anyway, when the curtain opened, he could see a stage."
     
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    "That made sense, as he had noticed what looked like coins scattered among the leaves on the ground. With the curtain open, he could see the shallow cavity carved straight back into the hill. No decorations. No props. And then there was something about the stage that made him want to look away. He felt a chill run through his body. No one else was there except the other man. Still, he couldn't just turn and walk away, so he nestled his hand inside the bosom of his kimono and watched.
    " Kotsu, kotsu. Again came the gloomy, wet sound of the clappers knocking against each other. As he suspected, there was a rope run ning from the man's hand to the cave. Against the hillside, to the left and right of the stage, were more curtains, two strands of white mist that drifted toward the opening, then disappeared like smoke curling up in a whirlwind.
    "Next there appeared a number of crudely carved caves, like blackened windows or boxes, forty or fifty in number, all in a row, and each one containing the figure of a woman. Some were sitting, some were upright, others were posed informally with one knee to the ground. Some were wearing only crimson underslips. Some had blood on their faces. Still others looked as if they had been bound. He glanced at them once, and suddenl y they disappeared into the dis tance, becoming smaller and smaller until their faces were lilies blossoming in the valley.
    "He shuddered. But before he could run away, the wooden clap pers sounded again— kon, kon .
    "It was then, sir, that someone emerged from one of the compartments that trailed off into the valley. It was a tiny figure of a woman who walked toward him without making a sound. By the time she finally reached the stage, she had grown to regular height. Actually quite tall, she looked back over her sloping shoulders and stared seductively at the gentleman . What an exquisite sight! Tama waki Mio."
     
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    "She wore a robe and a sash that was wrapped several times around her waist. Her bare feet were as white as frost, and she, still facing away, bent her knees, as if collapsing to the stage.
    "Again the wooden clappers sounded. Kan .
    "The gentleman stood transfixed. Then someone quickly stepped forward, brushing his back as he