The Girl from the Well

Kagura heads out into the garden and returns bearing fresh clumps of sweetgrass and sage. Amaya moves from room to room, setting candles around the shrine in large, concentric circles, lighting each in turn. Incense is added to the small altar, and soon the air is filled with its sweet, smoky scent. The other miko, Saya, sprinkles rock salt everywhere before setting up ofuda, strips of paper bearing sutras, against the walls and shoji screens.

The obaasan takes one of the dolls from the glass display. With quick precision, she slits its body in half, emptying out the cotton balls stuffed inside it. She replaces these with grains of white rice, stuffing the doll before sewing it shut again with red thread. Next she brings out a large stone knife and begins cleaning it with hot, steaming water.

“We are ready,” she says, and the mikos view this as the signal to bring the possessed in.

It is a little boy, perhaps only seven years old. He is twitching uncontrollably as he is brought in by his worried parents and other concerned relatives. His eyes constantly roll into the back of his head, and his mouth spits horrible, snarling obscenities. Even Callie and Tarquin, who do not understand the words, shrink back at the venom bubbling from the froth of his lips.

“Lay him down on the floor,” the obaasan commands, and this is promptly carried out, though the boy now screams in agony. Each miko holds a limb in place to prevent him from sitting up or crawling away, as the obaasan dangles the doll above the boy’s head and chants in a long, sonorous tone.

Though the sun was shining only moments ago, a dark cloud quickly passes over the little shrine, over the whole of Yagen Valley. Something that sounds like thunder rumbles through the Chinsei shrine, and the boy’s howls grow louder. The boy’s parents, now looking very pale, clasp their hands together, mumbling prayers of their own.

For nearly half an hour, the boy twists and writhes in pain, alternating between uttering long frightful shrieks and cursing the obaasan in a deep, guttural voice that a seven-year-old should not possess. A small earthquake besets the building, earthenware rattling, the ground shifting and settling. The old woman is unmoved by these threats and continues her long litany until finally the boy begins to weaken. His arms and legs begin to tremble less, and his head rolls against the floor. Finally, he takes a long, deep breath, exhales noisily, and falls silent.

The obaasan keeps the doll hovering atop his face for several more minutes after the boy has fallen unconscious. She places it on the ground beside him and picks up the knife.

And just as suddenly, the boy sits up, knocking the knife from the miko’s grip. The young child’s face is twisted, almost a poor imitation of a human’s, little slits of teeth showing through an abruptly wide mouth. His eyes bulge, a bulbous black pair starting out from his head. With one loud, inhuman shriek, he rips himself free of the other mikos’ hold and bolts directly for Tarquin. The tattooed boy has little time to react, gaping open-mouthed as the possessed youth closes the remaining distance between them and leaps—

—only to hit an invisible barrier that sits between two of the dolls protecting the circle, knocking him backward. The mikos are on him immediately, still chanting, though the boy now seems to possess the strength of ten men. He manages to tear himself away from both Amaya and Saya, and is well on his way to pulling free from Kagura when his whole body suddenly jerks upward, stiffening before falling back lifelessly onto the floor. The obaasan has reclaimed the stone knife and, without hesitation, plunges it into the doll’s body. A sound much like a heavy slap reverberates around the room. From outside, Callie thinks she can hear a long wail of pain, louder than any the boy has made, before it stops abruptly in mid-scream.

A queer calm descends on Chinsei shrine. Even the birds do not sing.

“It is done,” the obaasan says wearily. Kagura gently mops at the now-sleeping boy’s face with the sage and sweetgrass leaves. “The spirit has left him. When he wakes, he will be just as he was before.”