Murder At The Rainy Mansion ~The Never Ending 100 Tales~

Chapter 14: 14


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Chapter 14: The man who didn’t believe in ghost

Ayano: “Nothing. I just thought maybe there is something in there.”

Shun gave her a cold stare.

Ayano: “Shun, even if you think it’s unbelievable, we really do see them. Like right now, there is one over there.”

Shun: “Yeah, you’re a realist person.”

Ayano: “Exactly. I really see it there, so I believe it. I’m different from Takato. He is someone who grows gourd because he believes the golden horned king and silver horned king[1] will come out from the gourd.”

Shun looked at her and felt a bit scared as he thought woman really like to bring up the past even something that happened during their childhood years ago.

Shun: “Now that you mention it, why did he stop growing gourd?”

Ayano: “Grandpa Sokichi used to hang a gourd at the alcove. One day he peeked into the gourd and saw something.”

Shun: “Saw what?”

Ayano: “An eye.”

Shun frowned. “Eye?”

Ayano: “He said he saw a woman’s eye looking at him from inside the gourd.”

Shun: “Nonsense.”

Ayano: “In this house, you are the only one who will react like that.”

Shun: “I’m not saying I don’t believe you guys. I just think that it is ridiculous to say it out loud. I know it must be true since all of you are saying the same thing. You are all adults, not young kids. And there is no merit for you all to fabricate a story and collaborate with each other to deceive others.”

Listening to his cold words, Ayano couldn’t help speaking out the thing that she had been suspicious of. “You kept saying that you can’t see ghost. I wonder if it’s the truth.”

Shun: “What do you mean?”

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Ayano: “Although you pretend to look brave, you are a scaredy cat. You never go to the places where the ghosts are – not because you think the stories are absurd, but because you’re scared. I think you’re traumatized by something scary when you’re young.”

“Nonsense,” Shun said once again. He felt Ayano liked to say absurd things sometime.

After Ayano left, he remained standing in front of the storeroom. Did I see something so scary that I can’t even remember it? That’s so ridiculous!

Shun wanted to leave but then he stopped at the narrow hallway and looked back. He recalled that there was a place that he had been avoiding instinctively when he was young. It was the storeroom.

However, one day, he walked past the room together with other residents by some chance and nothing happened. At that time, one of them had opened the storeroom’s door and nothing happened either. Ever since that day, he started to walked past the room without any problem.

That thing is just my imagination, he thought. And then he realized – …That thing? Why did I say ‘that thing’?

The one that faintly came to his mind was the storeroom that Ayano had opened just now. He felt like he had seen something through the slightly opened door.

Takato’s story came to his mind. He felt as if the woman’s bulging eye was right in front of him. However, he soon shook off his imagination with reasoning.

I’m getting effected by their stupidity. I had never saw such thing. He tried to convinced himself with those words and continued walking down the creaking hallway. Because it has been raining continuously, the old wooden floor was dampened and a few planks were sinking in some places.

Shun—

He felt like he heard a faint female voice overlapping with the creaking sound. He stopped his foot.

Don’t…one, Shun—

Because the mansion was so large, sunlight couldn’t reach the inner part of the hallway. When passing through here, even a person who had no psychic ability like him could feel the creepy atmosphere.

It must be my imagination only. An auditory hallucination, he thought to himself.

However, he began to feel as if someone had grabbed his shoulder. He looked back involuntarily, but no one was there.

Shun put his hand on his shoulder to shake off the feeling of the thin fingertips that lingered there.

“…Don’t tell this to anyone, Shun.”

[1] It’s a reference to the characters in Journey to the West Saiyuki. 

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