Chapter 2 Putting your Face First

 

I desperately sprint around the corner and down the stairs. The winding layout of the home looms around me. I make sharp turns, barreling into walls as I move forward and down the third-floor staircase. Panicked footsteps tap behind me, and then a flash of movement passes in front of me. With a whoosh, I’m left in the dust by the realtor. Wow, this guy is fast! Oh, wait. No, I’m just out of shape.

 

As we sprint across the second floor, we can clearly hear a loud bang from the door finally being broken open.  Angry thumping steps resound upstairs. Luckily for us, we’ve reached the steps to the first floor and scurry down them. The realtor is far ahead of me and already down the steps, heading to the main hallway. From the way it sounds, the ghost is still on the third floor. This is a stupid house setup, to have the stairs to different floors on the opposite ends of the house. Great for us though. Almost in response to my thoughts, the sounds of the ghost intensify, sounding like it’s going down the stairs from the third floor. I manage to reach the final hallway, leading to the door. The realtor had reached the door long before me and left it opened wide. Desperately holding onto it, I see he’s been waiting for me and waves his arm frantically for me to go through with him. A wave of hope and gratefulness washes over me, causing me to redouble my efforts. Using the burst of energy to come down the hallway, I come to a sudden realization.

 

“Wait, if it is actually a ghost, can’t it just go through the floor?” I grunt and almost instantly regret my words.

 

The footsteps above me skid to a halt, with the wailing pausing momentarily. Yep. They heard me. As I continue to run, the wails commence from slightly above and behind me. Closer and closer behind me. Louder and louder, becoming deafening.

 

Is everything in this house faster than me?!

 

The realtor’s eyes widen when he sees what’s behind me, and in a panic, he grabs the door before I reach it. My eyes plead desperately with him, and I see some regret flash in his, as he continues to push the door closed. I try to stop my momentum, but am moving too fast.

 

Wait. Why has everything gone dark?

 

Wasn’t there a door slammed in my face a second ago?  I feel like there should be some pai…

 

 

“Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow!! Mother ———ing b—— a—.“ My eyes swim with a massive headache. Stars, bright lights fluttering, eye pain, head. Everything. Oh, my God, how can something hurt this much?! The pain in my jaw and skull slowly diminishes. Dang it, I’m just a delicate office worker! Ugh, I can’t see, and my face hurts! That dumb—- mo—-. Why did he suddenly slam a door in my face?! Why would he do that, wait.

 

 Oh, no. Slowly regathering my wits, I pause. I remember being chased by a creature as the realtor and I were exploring the house. I must have run into the door. Keeping my eyes open and focused on the door in front of me, I slowly straighten up, while sitting up on the ground. Making no other major movements, I make sure to remain facing the door. Regathering my bearings, I can see I am about ten feet away from the door, almost as if I was blown back. Right. The door slammed in my face, and I tried to pull back just before getting knocked out.

 

I’m still in the house, which means what was chasing us is probably still here. The house is silent, except from the echoes of my tirade. There’s a weirdly calming sound of light wind whispering outside, but most other ambient noise seems to be gone.

 

It’s probably right behind me.

 It’s brightly sunny outside. The lights in the house are completely normal now with no flickering.  A bird or two flutter outside and chirps happily. This is totally bullshit.  I’ve seen enough American and Japanese horror films to know that as soon as you assume the nightmare is over, it’s only a façade.

 

Additionally, if I really watch my emotions, there is a slightly unnatural urge to turn around. Everything points to the fact that everything is fine, amplifying the tiny words in my heart, maybe it’s okay to take a peek behind me, I’m sure it will be fine.

 

Nope. F— that.

 

I’m not going to be that stock intro character to a cheesy horror movie that still turns around after obviously experiencing something horrific and clearly supernatural. If it’s going to eat me, better that I can’t see it. Or at least drag me deeper in the house, without closure. I will scream like a little girl all the way in, though. While fighting. I think.

 

Another little voice suggests, can’t you just reach for the door without looking back?

I also can’t reach for the door! As soon as I try, it will jump on me. That would be doubly satisfying for the monster.

I could imagine it, “Oh, you thought you could get away? Hahaha, om nom nom,” as I get dragged back into the house, with the door shutting on its own.

 

I can’t turn around or leave. So, I attempt to sit there, to outwait the monster. However, my back starts to act up.  I must sit up straighter without turning my head or body and without much movement or noise and not changing my point of view. Surprisingly, I manage to do so, with no real reaction around me. The world continues normally. I feel a look of anticipation behind me. Waiting. Is there really nothing I can do to stop this?

 

Since I’m still sitting here safely, maybe it won’t hurt me if I don’t look or follow the obvious actions. And what’s the least actionable thing? Do nothing.  This seems extraordinarily stupid, but what else can I do? I also must make sure not to recognize or investigate anything that would show a reflection of what’s behind me. That would also break the status quo of the situation. I must calm down first. Woosah, woosah.

 

I’m calmer, and this is still a stupid plan, but there’s nothing else I can think of to get out of this situation. It’s not like I played many horror games in the past, so I don’t even know reference points on the ways these things go in popular culture. Hell, maybe if I wait long enough, the realtor will come back with the cops. Actually. That might not be a bad idea. Okay, so operation “Do Nothing” has begun. I slowly calm my breathing and rise to my feet, still facing the door. Nothing happens. Maybe it’s working? I’ll out wait it. It’s the only way. I can do this for hours. Don’t underestimate the willpower of a salaryman¹.

 

 

After what feels like 10 minutes, my legs feel like giving out. How do those customer service people do it? I’m a comfortable foreign office worker, who has a comfy chair and even works from home. Who am I kidding? I’m not built for this! Luckily, or maybe not, I hear a bored sigh behind me.

 

“Oops!” a tiny voice realizes that they made a sound.

Okay, that is definitive proof someone is behind me. This gives me even more reason to wait. Regardless of how cute that voice sounded, It’s a trap. Hold on my powerful self, you can make it!

 

After about two minutes, a tapping sound, like an irritated person tapping their foot, sounds behind me.

 

I Must. Not. React.

 

The tapping continues for a while, with some now purposeful coughs and louder foot taps. It’s almost as if they are saying “What’s with this dense guy, who can’t read the moment?” Ha, your disappointment is my happiness. I’m not moving. I feel like I may have forgotten the point of all this by now. Maybe this really is an unfortunate aspect of my personality? Nah. I’m probably just imagining it.

 After this standoff continues for three-ish more minutes, I hear an airy huff behind me.

A cute voice sounds out, “Okay you win. This is boring. Just talk to me for a bit and I’ll let you go.”

 

 At the same time, a super pale, delicate female hand extends out and slowly lowers onto my shoulder. My heart pounds in fear. Is this the moment? Is this when the side character gets tricked and eaten by the masquerading monster?! As soon as the hand is about to touch, I jerk away and reach for the door. No way am I going to be tricked!

 

“She” yells, “Wait, don’t leave!” and floats in front of me before I can get closer to the door.

 

What is this?

 

 

¹ A Salaryman in Japanese culture is a white-collar worker who must typically work longs hours and additional overtime. Socially, their life is expected to revolve around work.