>>17007342

Gozu 牛頭, or translated as “cow’s head”, is an urban legend told in Japan about a story that is so utterly terrifying, it leads to the demise of the reader or listener by fear. No known copy of Gozu in text is known to exist, while some believe it may still exist in an oral tradition.

>>17007348

I first discovered the book on a rainy day during early fall of last year in Kobe.

Being deeply interested in literature, I was drawn to second hand book shops since the beginning of my stay. I was working as a part-time English teacher after I abused my visa to receive legal residence, which freed up a lot of time to research and generally pursue my own hobbies.

After getting settled in, I dug around my mobile phone to find some apps to help me locate the occult. There are many crowded into Japanese Google Play (sorry non-Japanese residence, many of them require a Japanese phone number as verification), and I picked one at random.

These chats are anonymous, people picking nicknames and sharing information about strange news at certain locations, coordinates to find abandoned places, as well as some leading to the Deepweb.

Most of the chats were jokes, and some malicious at that. Due to the anonymity, a few people warned about abandoned coordinates, as some people intentionally give you coordinates to dangerous areas.

It was a rainy morning when I was stretched out on my futon watching tv and idly browsing the chat. Most people were bitching about the weather and more than a few were cracking jokes about “rain ghosts.” I received a private message from a garble of a nickname (huire2918js, for example) and I have translated as follows.

“There is something terrible at Kinomiya book store. It is about ten minutes away from Sannomiya station. You will find it on the third shelf to the left.”

>>17007351

At first, I was a little shocked that someone was able to know where I was located. However, checking my phones status, I realized that i had left the locator on (I was prone to getting lost), and thought nothing of it. Kinomiya is a small second hand book store run by an elderly couple at the basement of a large department store. I had been there many times, as they sold international books translated to Japanese for times I wanted to revisit those stories. International books averaged around 3,000 Yen for the brand new copy, and the elderly couple also gave me hefty discounts at half that price.

Thinking that I had nothing to lose, besides getting a little wet by the rain, I ate a simple breakfast and made my way to Sannomiya station.

Nothing was different when I entered Kinomiya, the musty smell of old books, cigarettes, and old coffee was the same as always. Aging, sagging wooden shelves supported large volumes that definitely voided their manufacture warranties, The elderly couple immediately struck up a conversation the minute I entered the door, offering me a smoke and some coffee.

I sat down with the elderly couple and we talked lightly of television shows, why I’m still not married (”I’m only 23″ is not a valid reason apparently), and of course, books. The elderly obaasan was a lover of fantasy and romance, while the Ojiisan was a lover of historical novels, particularly of the Meiji era.

It was when our conversation centered around books, I asked him if he had encountered any strange (怪しい) books. The obaasan’s face blanched suddenly, while the old man threw back his head and laughed, much to my surprise.

He skirted the question for a few minutes, then told me this:
“Books, some believe, are windows to other worlds. But that’s not necessarily true, if the book is poorly written, yes, it can only serve as a window. A well written book on the other hand, will put you in that world.”

>>17007352

I arrived home with my precious cargo in tow. I had stopped at the convenience store at the corner of my block to grab a few snacks and got to work folding my futon into a makeshift couch. I grabbed a few more blankets, a dictionary, and of course my trusty diary.

At that point, had I really expected to find anything of the occult or paranormal nature? Absolutely not. Due to the watchful gaze of the elderly couple, the best that I could do was grab a book, any book, and book it out of there (pun totally intended).

Now that I had my illegally procured book, I scanned over the untitled cover. I originally believed the cover to be made of leather, hardened over time into brittleness. What I discovered instead was an aged wooden cover, with a traditionally carved illustration. I was immediately overjoyed.

The book had to be Kusazoshi ( 草双紙) for those unversed in Japanese literary history, Kusazoshi were books written during the Edo era mainly, with some written even before the Edo period. Kusazoshi isn’t exactly the pinnacle of Japanese literature, but are extremely difficult to find in this day and age. Actual Kusazoshi and not reprints are kept at museums or private collections, never second-hand book stores.

>>17007357

Kusazoshi are divided into different colors, which denotes themes. There are Blue, Red, Yellow, and Black books to name just a few. The book I was dealing with was a Kurohon ( 黒本), which translates directly into “Black Book.” Kurohon deals with mature themes, usually great myths or the demons, particularly those that were written during the early 1800′s.

The cover was rather unremarkable. I was not exactly able to guess which type of wood the cover was made of, but the book had suffered some damage. The corners were warped slightly, and the border facing the binding was cracked in a few places, but the engravings on the cover constituting the illustration was in marvelous condition.

The engraving was of a sleepy village nestled between two mountains, with thick bamboo groves surrounding it. For reasons unknown, the engraving produced goosebumps all over my arms.

When I flipped the wooden cover, I would be lying if I didn’t say I didn’t scream like a little girl. A yellowed slip of paper fell out of the book and into my lap. I have translated the note to the best of my ability, and unfortunately, I have not made a note of the original Japanese in my notes.

“This is the last remaining copy of the story known as Gozu, a tale of terror and desperation. It is a story with no morals, messages, or treasures to the reader. Its contents malicious, the writer unknown, and the owners lost, it offers nothing and takes everything.” -Showa 40 (1965).

>>17007365

Although now I have familiarized myself with Gozu, I could hardly take the note seriously. How could the Japanese equivalent of Bigfoot be found at a small second hand bookstore in Kobe? I would be more prone to believe a far-fetched conspiracy story of the Japanese government holding a vault of cursed relics.

While the story was written in Japanese that is far from its modern form, it was mostly written in Hiragana, which made the going easier than I had initially feared. With my limited knowledge of literature during that period, I still came across something that was not usually found within Kusazoshi. After the flyleaf, there seemed to be a record of what appeared to be the villagers concerning the story.

Now, this wasn’t particularly odd, Buddhist temples since the 1600′s in Japan used to keep detailed consensus records. Kusazoshi, particularly Kurohon were usually set in fiction, and the names listed within the consensus bore no relations with any particularly famous names or places throughout Japanese history.

After carefully scanning the consensus page, I took a deep breath (and opened another bag of chips), and settled in for a story of a lifetime.

>>17007385

Gozu began with the village depicted on the cover as the central setting, mainly going over the village’s internal economy and state of life. While for some historians this would be a treasure cove of information for cultural studies, Japan recorded its history early on since 900 A.D, so there was nothing within the immediate beginning that seemed to be a unique find.

The village (which simply called itself “village”) was surrounded by a thick grove of bamboos on to the east, west, and north with mountains to the south. This effectively made travel nigh impossible, as it took a strong man a day to traverse through the bamboo groves. The mountains would take a strong man three days, and would lead to nowhere but the coast and sea.

The people of the village followed their own version of the “Bakufu” system (a system modeled upon the shogunate), but since they were isolated from any direct contact with the high court, had to fend for itself. Being isolated meant that the village was unharmed during the slew of civil wars and uprisings that followed, but it was a catch-22. The isolation also meant that during times of famine or pestilence they could not rely on the central government for support.

>>17007392
The village subsided mainly on their small rice paddies on land they were able to clear of bamboo, and some small domesticated livestock. Many of the villagers were afraid to step too deep into the bamboo groves, as it was easy to lose track of oneself. Thus, small game and foraging for wild foodstuff was generally kept to a minimum.

The village carried on its peaceful tranquility, when during a rather rough summer the village was struck a crippling blow. Both their rice crops and livestock began to wither and die. While from the explanations it was quite obvious to the modern reader that the rice was hit with a bacterial blight and the livestock began to suffer from lung disease, the villagers jumped to the conclusion that the gods must not be pleased.

The village council decided that it was too rash to begin invoking any spirits or rites, and decided to try and tough out the remainder of time till the next harvest season.

When fall arrived and the harvest provided much more meager stocks than previously anticipated, many people in the village began to brave entering the bamboo groves to forage for wild mushrooms and tender bamboo shoots, as well as hunt and trap wild game. The village stockpiled their foraging together and it seemed that while the oncoming winter was not pleasant, no great famine would strike.

As the foraging carried on, the wild foodstuff growing closest to the village was the first to be depleted. The village quickly devised a system to forage deeper in the bamboo groves and minimizing the chances of getting lost. The women quickly wove a thin yet durable hemp rope, woven together so compactly that it was almost invisible to the naked eye unless the sunlight caught on it. They would tie it to the shrine at the center of the village, and holding the rest of the rope coiled in one hand, venture into the grove.

>>17007397

The women were able to produce three long ropes in total, each rope was long enough for a person to encircle the entire village seven times before running taut.

The system was a success, holding onto the coil, the foragers were able to carefully retrace their tracks even during the dead of night, while some complained of broken noses caused by accidentally walking into bamboo trees headfirst. You have to break a tamago to make an omurice.

This new system came to a screeching halt when one of the young women of the village, Aguri, entered the grove early one morning. Around midday, when the sun was the hottest, the men of the village were sitting together near the shade of the grove, cursing the blight and disease. Aguri came dashing out of the grove, her clothing in tatters, and her usually well-done hair in disarray. Although the men called out to her in surprise, she would not stop running until she prostrated herself at the end of the rope, at the foot of the shrine.

The village attempted for three days to nurse Aguri back to health. She would not stop mumbling about something in the woods that was trying to track her down. On the third day, she wailed so loudly that the families at the edge of the village heard her. Many rushed to Aguri’s house to see what the issue was, and found her aged mother, her only family member, kneeling on the front porch sobbing. Aguri had taken the hemp rope and hung herself.

After comforting the mother, the village council was finally able to procure an answer from Aguri’s mother. Aguri had found a small slope in the bamboo grove, and much to her surprise, found a large ginseng growing by a batch of light green bamboo shoots. The ginseng at that size would be potent enough to cure any disease or ailment, and the bamboo shoots of that color was highly prized, their taste akin to white rice. Aguri thanked the gods and took to harvesting, when she noticed something watching her.

>>17007404
Aguri had called it Gozu, and the mother was unsure where she had heard such a name. The mother never told any stories of the supernatural, as that invoked bad spirits. Aguri described it as a broad man, twice as broad as any man in the village, with great rippling muscles. However, his head was that of a cow.

Aguri had dropped all the bamboo shoots and even the ginseng, holding onto the hemp rope as tightly as she could while she ran. The Gozu began to run alongside her, and Aguri had stared into the cow’s eyes. Aguri noticed that the Gozu was not staring at her, but rather the hemp rope she was holding, then ran quicker than her, disappearing into the grove, his hand holding onto the hemp rope.

Aguri had committed suicide, not out of fear, but out of guilt. She knew that if she had cut the hemp rope before the Gozu had disappeared into the difference with her sharp trowel, the rope would of been impossible to find. Aguri had let fear control her mind, and hoped that she would be saved. She had led the Gozu back to the village.

The village council remained silent.

Awesome read!
Loved it! Story itself isn't too scary tho but the writng was beautiful.
Cheers to you

>>17007544

Thanks! But I'm not even finished yet. Don't worry, the creepy part is starting to come up. And aw shucks, I really think I suck at writing but its a hobby.
____________

Everyone in the village began to hotly debate the next course of action to take after Aguri’s demise. As much as the council tried to keep the incident that occurred in the grove a secret, the news spread throughout the entire village before nightfall.

When nightfall finally came, the men wore white hoods and carried brightly burning torches. In the midst of them was a corpse covered with a simple white shroud. Aguri’s body.

The council had deeply debated how to handle the situation at hand, and it was unanimously voted that her body was to be disposed of in the woods. The reason being twofold, she had committed a dishonorable suicide, she could find no repose in her family grave. The council also secretly hoped that disposing of Aguri in this manner would appease whatever creature lived in the woods.

The men held a simple rite for Aguri. She was a rather plain and honest girl, and there was not much to say. The men returned to the village before long, their hoods draped around their shoulders.

>>17007729

For a while the village returned to its old style of life. The groves were now forbidden to enter, and the council held sentry from the shrine. Two out of the three ropes had been coiled back from the bamboo forest, the one Aguri had taken with her on the fateful day remained out in the forest. The men were afraid of what they would find if they tried to recoil it.

The village had managed to supplement their meager harvest with the bounty of the groves, and it had seemed that peace had returned to the village. This all changed when Aguri stumbled back out of the grove and into the village.

_________________________________________

It was at this point in the book that I heard my doorbell chime. I nearly jumped out of my skin, the chips I had forgotten on my lap spilled all over the floor. I rushed to the door, feeling uneasy.

Checking through the peephole, I was relieved to see it was my friend Shouta. His family owned a temple in a nearby area, Amagasaki to be exact, and was a paranormal geek like myself. He was much more deeply versed in East Asian culture and folklore than I, and I saw him something akin to a mentor.

Shouta stepped into the room, ignoring the chips and stepping directly onto them. He was a rather hard friend to like.

>>17007737

I cracked open a few beers while we discussed our day, I conveniently left out everything that had happened since the message earlier that morning. I gave a half-assed story about being locked in a porn coma for the majority of the day. He snorted.

We spoke of work, the shows we caught the night before, and sooner or later the topic drifted back to the paranormal. Shouta began to tell me of a trip he took earlier that week to Iwate, when I thought of the perfectly “safe” question to ask him regarding Gozu.

I asked him if there were any legends or particularly held superstitions regarding forests, groves, or nature (大自然). Shouta looked down at his beer for a moment to what appeared to be in deep thought. I have transcribed his answer as best as I can:

“Forests exist everywhere around the world. Well, most parts where people began to live in anyways. Every culture and people have their own superstition concerning ‘the woods.’ There are still some startling similarities that can be seen as a global phenomenon. I was reading a fascinating book about this topic last year, but I can’t recall any other than this one. Every culture or people in the world that had some kind of dense foliage near the birth of their civilization warn of following the call of your voice in the woods. Its odd, even us Japanese have a version of it. We believe that there are malicious foxes (kitsune) that call someone’s name, usually in the voice of a loved one, to bewitch them further and further away from a safe path. They lead the traveler to their demise, then assume their shape to wreak havoc.”

>>17007740

“The Malays on the other hand are even more careful than us Japanese, and their spirits even more malicious. Before a group of travelers embark onto a forest path, they give each other “code names,” and they are careful to never use the same code names in succession. Travelers, even tourist groups, are astounded when they hear their actual names being called throughout the forest, when no one knows their actual names.”

Shouta finished his beer, and began to get up. I walked with him back to my front door, wishing him a good night and thanking him for the information. It was not exactly an answer I was looking for in relation to what happened within Gozu, but it set even more gears clicking in my head.

I returned to the book.

>>17007352
Before the next post:

The conversation kind of petered out there, and I finished my coffee and cigarette. I returned to browsing the bookshelves, and noticed that for the first time, the old couple was watching me closely.

They were quite discrete about it. I doubt they thought that I would steal any books, but being a NYC native, I know when I’m being watched by store owners. Nonetheless, I slipped out of their view to the shelf that the message had told me about. I have never stolen anything in my life (except a bottle of Tabasco from my university’s dining hall once, but for $4,000 a semester for sub-par food I decided it wasn’t even stealing), yet for reasons unknown I quietly slipped a book from the bottom shelf into my bag.

After saying my farewells and stating that there was nothing that caught my eye today, the old couple seemed to return to their normal cheery selves. They waved me out the door and told me to stop by anytime for a coffee and chat. I promised that I would.

I decided to take the bus back to my apartment. The rain had increased to steady downpour and my umbrella felt heavy from the amount of endless water. It was only on the empty bus I took a look at what I had pilfered.

It was a book without a title.

______

This happened for some reason in the last thread too. Spoopy.

are you writing this as you go, op?

Hurry

>>17007790

Yeah, I keep a journal of ideas I usually have. My job requires me to drive around a lot (account manager) so whenever I'm doing something and get a sudden idea, I just jot it down and write the story when I'm back home. I usually finish writing it and just delete the file after.

>>17007796
I'm on it, another 4-5 posts coming in.

>>17007744
The village was in an uproar at the return of Aguri.

The priests of the shrine were baffled, the council was at a loss of words, and her mother was overjoyed. Aguri had stumbled on trembling legs from the bamboo groves she was cast into, the dark purple bruise of the rope evident on her neck.

Some wanted to burn Aguri, claiming that she was possessed of the evil spirits that cursed the groves. Others claimed that she had come for revenge and refused to leave the sacred grounds of the shrine.

Village life was once again disrupted, and snow began to fall.

Aguri’s mother had barricaded her home from the more violent villagers, claiming that her daughter simply had not been dead but unconscious. The council decided that there is currently not much they could do, and allowed the mother to care for her daughter.

A few weeks passed, and no news once again arose of Aguri. Many villagers had stopped visiting the pair, who were not particularly popular within the village, but still had their social circle. Only the men of the village would stop like clockwork to drop off firewood and food.

>>17007871

It was during the height of the snowing period that some of the villagers fell deathly sick. The book described the conditions of what could be guessed as pneumonia, but it seemed nothing paranormal.

The snow was particularly bad that year, falling up to a man’s chest in some spots. The medicine painstakingly acquired through travel to other distant towns and villages seemed to dry up overnight.

Yoshitsu, the village chief’s son, recalled one particularly somber evening Aguri speaking of finding a rather large ginseng, and he set his heart to find it. The council and his friends tried to dissuade him, calling it suicide. Besides, they had scoffed, how could he find it with so much snowfall?

Yoshitsu knew that the hemp rope had not been coiled (aside from it being used by Aguri to attempt suicide), and reasoned that the end of the rope would be more or less the location of the ginseng. She had not coiled it as she had been running. Yoshitsu then showed his daughter to his friends, her face had turned purple from the illness. No one again reasoned with Yoshitsu, nor offered to join him.

Yoshitsu had considered asking Aguri to join him, but traversing the snowy grove with someone who may as well be a possessed corpse could be only worse than falling into a deep snow pit or getting lost.

Yoshitsu packed a light meal of grilled rice wrapped in steaming bamboo leaves and a few strips of dried squirrel jerky. He set out at day break, the hemp rope guiding him through the grove.

>>17007872

He walked for most of the morning, marveling that Aguri was able to walk this far even during the summer. He took a break to build a small fire from some of the dry bamboo he had packed and using the now dry bamboo leaves from his lunch as kindling. He sat for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of a full stomach and the peaceful quiet of the grove. Saving a small leaf from the pile of kindling, he began to whistle a soft tune.

Yoshitsu jumped when a man’s voice hailed him from nearby, asking if it may join him by the fire. Yoshitsu’s mind began to race of stories from his youth, of beautiful women that were trapped in the snow that tried to drag young men to their deaths as well, of old men with no teeth that waited for young men to fall asleep to drink their blood.

Before Yoshitsu could respond, an old man with a wispy white beard, his body wrapped with a thick brown robe sat in the snow by Yoshitsu, warming his liver-spotted hands over the small fire. The old man gave Yoshitsu a genuinely kind smile, putting him at ease. The man’s bald head gave Yoshitsu further assurance, a traveling Buddhist Monk.
____________

I'm considering calling it a night. I should be able to update again tomorrow afternoon if anyone is still interested in the direction of the story. Have a great night, and once again thanks for the kind words and interest!

I'm not reading all of this shit. You can't write, go take a creative writing class or something.

>>17007876
Please continue. The story is interesting!

Hope the OP is alive to continue it tomo!

>>17007876
Continue

>>17007876
Please continue when you're able
This is probably the most /x/-related thread at the moment

OP, you should definatley make a book

Dude it's like noon in Japan get to posting already lazy fucking nip.

Sorry for the wait guys, there's another 10-15 posts tonight before I crash.

>>17011613
cool beans

>>17010169

Thank you to the people who are leaving this comment in my threads. It means a lot to me as a hobbyist! I doubt my writing is ever good enough to get published, and I can barely break 50 followers on my blog. Anyways, hope you enjoy the rest of the story!

_______________________________

Yoshitsu offered the Buddhist Monk the last grilled rice cake he had been saving for his return trip, which he graciously accepted. The old monk munched away happily at the rather plain meal, even going as far as licking the remnants of sauce off the bamboo leaves.

The monk burped, and carefully cast the now clean bamboo leaves into the fire, where it soon caught and began to disintegrate. Yoshitsu and the monk watched silently as the fire once again died down to embers.

The monk asked Yoshitsu his reason for being in the groves in such treacherous weather, and Yoshitsu began to confide everything to the monk. The monk listened sagely, and showed no surprise at what had befallen Aguri.

After Yoshitsu had concluded his story, and his reason for the sojourn into the woods, the monk spoke:

>>17011860

“The Gozu is a rather strange creature. He falls neither into the realm of Japanese Shinto nor is ever spoken about in the different Narakas (hells) within Buddhism. I have never encountered such a creature, but all I can offer is this talisman and of course, my prayers for your village.”

Yoshitsu accepted the small amulet, which was shaped like a small golden monocle. The glass of the monocle however, instead of being clear, was a deep red.

Yoshitsu and the monk both stood up, dusting stray snow off their clothes. Yoshitsu offered the monk the best of luck, and that sentiment was returned. They both parted ways again, the monk headed in the direction of Yoshitsu’s village and Yoshitsu following the hemp rope.

Yoshitsu walked a few steps, then remembered he never asked the monk on the use of the amulet. Buddhism had yet to fully reach his sleep little village, and did not know if they were used in the same way as Shinto amulets.

Yoshitsu turned around, and the monk had vanished. All he saw was a small fox scampering off deeper into the grove.

>>17011861

I put the book down thoughtfully, I had not even realized it was nearing four in the morning. I had been enraptured in the book, and did not eat or even use the bathroom. I had realized something terrifying, the book did not seem to diminish in content. I felt after all the pages that I had read, I had barely made a dent in overall passages.

I marked into my diary the estimated page of the book, as there were no page numbers anywhere. I had decided that both the story and the book was giving me the creeps, and called Shouta to come clean.

The phone rang for a while, I was worried that he was on an out-call to a neighboring temple, or worse yet, passed out in a drunk stupor. I listened intently, unsure if I should even leave a message. He picked up on the 15th ring.

He was pissed. Royally pissed. He was having a great dream that he was driving along the highway, and blasting demons with energy bolts leaning out the side of a truck. I wasn’t terribly sorry for waking him up.

I told Shouta about everything, the story I had read so far, the fact I was indeed holding the last remaining copy of Gozu, and what had happened in the book so far. Shouta listened intently, and I heard the faint scribble of him taking notes.

He promised that he would get on the first bus to my place, and to under no circumstance open the book again. I agreed, and he said he will ask his father, as this was dealing with something he had no knowledge of. I cracked a joke about an ancient evil. Shouta shut me up quickly:

>>17011864

“There is no thing as an ancient evil. Evil existed in the heart of men before they were men. Think of the way that the universe works, everything is out intent on destroying each other. Evil caused the universe, hell, we can argue that evil created the universe. Men could not clamber toward enlightenment in peace. Look at the catholic religion, men become revered when they stand against great evil, or are taken by ancient evils. We understand the concept of beauty because we want to turn our heads away from evil. Yet, evil is sometimes more beautiful than anything. I can argue that the concept ‘ancient good’ is more correct than ancient evil. This book is not an ancient evil, it has always existed. Evil just takes forms and I believe it has existed before the beginning of anything. Anyways I’ll be there in an hour or so, so stay way from that fucking book.”

I reconfirmed my intentions to stay away from the book, and he hung up. I yawned, I felt the fatigue of spending the entire day reading pull down my eyelids as well as my shoulders. I decided to brew a cup of coffee.

All I recall was opening the packets for a quick cup of instant Joe (I’m a pleb) and setting the kettle on the stove. I remember adding my preference of sugar to the cup, and beginning to open the carton of milk. I closed my eyes for a second, a full bodied yawn fought its way up from my chest. I left my eyes closed a second, the coolness of the carton felt oddly comforting, and I smilked slightly. I opened my eyes.

The book was in my hands.

>>17011865
Oh shit please continue

>>17011865
Awesome naration! Please go on!!

>>17011865
Pls cont. You should also upload those in a blog or something.

>>17012026

I currently have a blog, but I don't want to self promote on /x/, as its in direct violation of board rules. Not that I particularly care that much about the board rules, but its generally frowned upon.

_______________________________
A soft disbelieving sigh escaped from my lips.

I looked down and was astounded at what I saw. The entire book so far had been densely packed with letters, the writer seemed intent to stuff as much information as possible.

Now, I noticed that the words were beautifully spaced, and the calligraphy had become much more even. The delicate brush strokes looked like a work of art.

There were now illustrations bordering the pages. I began to flip to the beginning of the book, and there were amazing detailed drawings throughout the margins and borders of the pages. There was an illustration of women weaving hemp rope, Yoshitsu navigating through the snow, and Aguri’s feet showing at the top border.

And there was a drawing of the Gozu.

I was shocked, the flyleaf I was certain that had previously been blank had a full scale drawing of the Gozu, its black bovine eyes staring directly out of the page and into my terrified eyes. I quickly found my place again within the book, which also confirmed my worst fears, I was still at the same place as I had started last night.

I had to continue reading. There must be an answer to this madness.

>>17012034

Yoshitsu trekked on deeper into the grove, and the going got slightly easier. The thicker bamboo at the heart of the grove had shielded some of the snowfall. It was not a huge difference, but now Yoshitsu was able to take off his snow shoes which greatly sped up his trek.

Snow began to fall again lightly. Yoshitsu tightly clutched the rope in one hand, pulling it slightly every now and then to pull it from under the heavy snow. He recalled that Aguri said that she found the ginseng and bamboo shoots at a slight slope. In the distance up ahead he saw the snow beginning to gradually incline. He slowed down and cautiously began to approach the slope.

As he neared the base of the slope, he noticed that the sounds of the forest had dimmed. The sound of the wind sighing softly among the bamboo, the calls of small birds, and even the crunch of his shoes on the soft top layer of snow seemed to gradually lessen.

With his heart pounding, he began to crouch, afraid of something that may be watching from his wood. He cursed himself silently for not wearing his winter hunting gear, which would blend him better with the snow. He was wearing his travel gear, which were bright and distinctive for search parties to locate him in the event that he lost his trail.

Yoshitsu began to worry, the rope was still taut, although he was sure that he was beginning to near Aguri’s final destination. It should have been slacking since Aguri had never mentioned mooring the rope to anything.

He arrived at the base of the slope, and taking a deep breath, pulled hard on the rope. A frozen decomposing hand shot out of the snow.

>>17012037

Also, happy turkey day everyone! I have to run out to store in an hour, but I should be able to update again today once I get the bird in the oven.

________

Someone pushed me from behind, causing me to drop the book, yell, and shit my pants all at the same time. I’m amazed in hindsight I didn’t have a brain aneurysm.

Shouta pushed me out of the way to shut my stove off. I had left the kettle on and it had boiled the last of the water and began to blacken. I began to cough at the intense amount of smoke in the kitchen. Shouta wet some paper towels and wrapped them around his mouth and nose. He took the kettle and left it in on my veranda. The kettle was still smoking.

Shouta opened every door in the house as well as the windows, and disabled my fire alarm. I had not even noticed for what I believe to be the last hour.

After doing all this, he helped himself to some milk in my fridge and a donut on the kitchen table. I noticed that the milk had been untouched, the carton still closed. I sat down on the kitchen floor and began to shiver.

Shouta watched me shivering and softly clicked his tongue.

>>17012041
Tell me a title of a post or something so i can search for ur blog

>>17012054

http://momojhsc.tumblr.com/

>tumblr

Unfortunately I just began to start posting my writing to even my own blog. I was actually in Japan and Korea for the past year and a halfish (since I last went inactive on my blog). Now that I have a stable job as well as being able to daydream freely during work, I will be updating much more frequently. If I ever break 10k-15k followers I plan on launching my own WP blog. Thank you for the interest!

I trust that someone is screen capping this?

>>17012105

I humbly request those who are following this thread to please refrain from making any screencaps. There's nothing I can do to stop anyone of course, but this is an unpolished work I had been entertaining for the past couple of weeks. I promise that I will produce screen caps directly lifted from my blog that will be a polished piece and posted onto one of the numerous creepypasta threads that we have. Will also post my previous stories as a polished screencap when I write my other stories. The other stories I currently have on my back burner are:

-Sickly sweet: The odd story of my grandfather who survived the Korean war as an orphan.

-Akita Bijin: My trip to Akita prefecture over the winter looking for the perfect Akita Bijin (beautiful person). Akita prefecture is famed for its naturally beautiful people.

-The heavenly gate cure: A "true" account of taking traditional Korean medicine during my stay in South Korea over this summer.

Stay tuned! I'm wrapping up at the store now so I will be able to hopefully wrap up Gozu entirely by tonight.

>>17012120
I was just worried that this awesome story wouldn't have the chance to spread. Keep it up OP

>>17012041
Cont?

>>17012077
Cool. And nothing wrong with Tumblr, it's just a shame that the feminazi's call it their home.

>>17012120
Can't wait for this to continue. Please hurry OP

>>17012213

I'm sorry, I came back from the store and was hoping to be down with the turkey, but my girlfriend grabbed a fucking ham instead of a turkey. I don't even fucking understand that. It wasn't one of those plastic wrapped deals either, the ham was in a fucking can. I kind of understand domestic violence now.

All jokes aside my day just became brutal, but I promise that the story will be completely finished by the end of tonight.

How many followers do you have OP

>>17012041

I couldn’t explain a single thing that was going on. It felt like the last two days of my life had been absolutely dominated by the book. I corrected myself. It didn’t “feel” like it, my life had been completely by the book.

I closed my eyes and tried to control my shivering. Shouta just continued eating my breakfast. The munching sound seemed to anchor me back to reality, but all I could still think about was the accursed book. I had to know what had happened.

I got up, my pants reeking. I wasn’t speaking metaphorically about soiling my pants. I steadied myself over the counter, where the book remained closed. I had to know what happened within the story.

Without turning around, I told Shouta I was going to clean myself, and I badly needed a shave. He grunted while destroying an entire dozen box of donuts. I quietly slipped the book into the front of my pants.

I began to leave the kitchen and head to the bathroom, when he lazily called my name. I turned around, and he beckoned for me to come closer. When I did, he suddenly reached into my pants, causing me to yelp in surprise. He had dug the book out of my pants.

With a weak chuckle, I went to the bathroom, throwing my pajama pants into the wash and decided to just chuck the underwear. The hot shower calmed me more than usual, and I sat soaking in the spray of water, wondering what was to befall Yoshitsu. Was the corpse Aguri’s? Was the Gozu a shapeshifter? The Japanese equivalent of a goatman?

>>17012267

I had to finish the story, there was no other way around it. I had to know the fate that befell the village. I finished up in the shower and quickly shaved, nicking myself in the process. I would be lying if I wasn’t rushing.

With a clean pair of underwear on, I stepped back into the kitchen. Shouta called from the living room, I sadly closed the now empty box of donuts and empty milk carton.

Upon entering the living room, I was astounded at what I saw. Shouta had set up a strange contraption using two mirrors that I kept for different purposes. He had laid Gozu directly in the middle, and two mirror of differing sizes and heights. He had taken my convex mirror and placed it directly in front of the opposite chair from where he was sitting, so that when I took a seat, it completely blocked me from looking at the book directly. A smaller mirror, about three inches in height with no base I had received as a gift was placed in an angle so that I could get a look at the reflection the convex cast. In short, I had no direct view of the book.

Shouta lit a cigarette, and blew a cloud of blue smoke. The smoke reminded me that I, a heavy pack a day smoker, had not had a cigarette in two days. I lit one of my own, I hadn’t slept in two days.

We smoked in silence until our cigarettes burned down to the filter. After we extinguished our cigarettes, Shouta wordlessly began to arrange everything on the table. I had closed my eyes while he did this, I felt that I would collapse at any moment. Suddenly, Shouta asked me what I saw.

>>17012256

Less than sixty.

Waiting.... Go on

>>17012267
>It didn’t “feel” like it, my life had been completely by the book.
completely *dominated* by the book

I'm on the edge of my seat waiting for the next part OP. This is great stuff!

Great story, OP. I think your prose needs a little more flavor, but the pacing is great and you do an awesome job cutting back and forth between narratives.

Also as an American expat in Asia I feel where you're coming from on this one. Looking forward to the rest.

>>17012269
Cont pls.

Bumps

Go on b0s

lol. OP is a wannabe writer and he just used /x/ as his/her test demographic. Nothing wrong with that per-se, but one really should not give anything away for free. If OP ever wants to adapt this for an actual novel, posting it here could come back to bite him/her in the ass.

>>17015806
I thought it was pretty good. Needs workshopping, but pretty good. I have read worse.

>>17015806
OP puts this stuff on their blog for free as well. This is one of the rare occasions where I bother to follow a thread on /x/. Some of the most interesting content I've seen in weeks

bump bump

>>17007342
bump

>>17007404
>You have to break a tamago to make an omurice.

Translators note: Tamago means AM I KAWAII ONICHAN DESU

Seriously, is leaving words untranslated that fucking necessary?

OP based on your trip, your writing style and the fact that your blog is hosted on tumblr I'm assuming you're a girl. Don't bother trying to convince me otherwise if this isn't true, the headcannon has been deeply ingrained now.

>tfw all that playful sexual tension with Shouta.

>>17015806

I don't ever plan on charging for my writing. Ever. Period. I have a steady job, and don't need any income from writing. The most I would ever do is publish e-books and grovel for donations. Whatever I would publish on my e-books would also be published onto my blog (which will always be free) or I will personally upload torrents. I would make it known that by buying my books you are in no way receiving anything more than what is in my blog. It would just be supporting me, the author directly. I don't ever think I will be good enough to charge money for my writing.

>>17015853

I write this as I go, I know its in need of some heavy polishing, but I just don't have the free time until now to really get cracking.

>>17016401

I'm a sexy Korean male, so maybe you can have /hm/ fantasies instead.

>>17016273

I just thought it was a cute joke. Noted.

>>17016731

My eyes began to focus in the hazy living room. Dawn had already broken and the room was bathed in light purple. I gasped when I noticed what Shouta had set up.

The reflection of the small mirror showed Gozu, or what I thought was Gozu. The materials of the book had not changed at all. The cracks and slight warping of the wood had remained the same, and the wood still lightly gleamed in the purple light.

The engraving had completely changed.

The engraving now showed three monks bowed in prayer, and they had the markings of sainthood radiating from their heads. I gripped the edge of the table, the room began to spin. Shouta snorted.

“Did you find anything in the book?”

I replied that I hadn’t then I recalled the yellowed slip of paper that had slipped out. I told him that it was now tucked securely in the back of the book. Shouta ignored me and flipped the cover to the flyleaf. The yellowed piece of paper was there.

Shouta read out loud:

“Entombed within is the only known completed copy of Jujushinron (Ten stages of the developed mind). It is penned by none other than the great Kobo-Daishi, or better known as Kukai. It is the holiest script known to man, and guarantees the end of human suffering and the ultimate path to enlightenment. Dated Kamakura Year 15 (1200 AD).”

I fell from my chair, unconscious, where I was plagued by uneasy dreams.

>>17016916

I awoke hours later, it was already evening. Shouta had not even bothered to drag me to my futon.

The entire right side of my body was sore beyond belief, and my stomach growled. I stumbled to the kitchen to find a mess and most of fridge gone. Shouta was sitting at the dining room table finishing the last of my ice cream.

I asked him where the book was.

He didn’t answer.

Before I could stop myself, or even really understand what was happening, my fist had connected with his lower jaw, smacking his temple into the wall. Blood welled into his right eye from the blow.

He unleashed the worst ass whooping I have ever received to date. I tell my friends now that I gave as much as I got, but in reality, I learned that day what it meant to get my ass beat.

When we were both left gasping for breath on the floor, with the last of my strength I muttered to him in English that he was a cheap Shaolin monk knock-off, he replied back to me “this is pen” and smacked my forehead.

>>17016920

He lit a cigarette and ashed it directly onto my floor. After smoking the cigarette halfway, while I was counting the bones that were left unbroken in my upper body, he began to speak.

“That book, if I can call it that, isn’t Gozu. Gozu doesn’t exist, its an urban legend told by morons on 2chan and other places on the internet. Its evil alright, but its far from being even an ‘ancient evil.’ Its a physical manifestation of desire. It simply wants to consume your soul and lead you to ruin. This isn’t a book, a book is a piece of an artist’s soul. No, no, this is a twisted parody of a book, it shows you only what you want to see.”

After that he smoked in silence. After the last two days, I was glad for the silence.

>>17016920

*most of the contents of my fridge gone.

Posting on phone never again.

Badump

>>17016924
Is that how this ends??
What next??

Pls. OP. Pls. Post more. I need to know the ending. Just like you needed to know what happened to Shinji or whatever his name was.

>>17007342
Looks like the rabbit of Caerbannog! Where is the Holy Hand Grenade?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QM9Bynjh2Lk

File: FB_IMG_1438022441540.jpg (9 KB, 480x360) Image search: [Google]

9 KB, 480x360

There's a draw to how you write, and I appreciate that you're working that into the tale of the Gozu.

You can tell by how many people want you to continue, and you're mirroring the tale exactly.

Can you post an email? I'd like to correspond with you. Better yet, send me a message. My email is in the name field.

OP is a Haruki Murakami knockoff

Read House of Leaves by Mark Z Danielewski

>>17021394
>You can tell by how many people want you to continue, and you're mirroring the tale exactly.

This. Please post more, OP.

>>17019789
>>17016929

Not the end. I've been on a bender this weekend. I know how I want to end it, but I was working on an addendum chapter to wrap the story of Yoshitsu, the "gozu" story within the story. Let me know if I should just wrap up the story or do it with the addendum.

>>17021394

I don't know what you want to correspond about. I'm confused.

>>17021444

I recommend house of leaves by Danielewski as well. Great book.

>>17022648
I really wanted to hear the rest of the actual Gozu story.

>>17022648
100% definitely do it with the addendum

>>>17021394
>I don't know what you want to correspond about. I'm confused.


I want to correspond about your writing. You're very talented, despite the naysayers.

Either way, it's up to you. I don't have a gun to your head, I just think it would be great to talk shop with you.

>>17022648

It’s been a few weeks since Shouta took the book with him home. I argued with him at first, and got desperate enough to say the whole “I found it first” spiel. He told me that it would be better if I didn’t know where it was kept. I guess it is all for the better.

I revisited Kinomiya a few days ago, things are the same as always. Both the store and the couple are still ancient, and I hope that those things will never change.

I came clean to the older couple about stealing the book, I had formally prepared 5,000 Yen in an unmarked envelope to attempt to display my grievances for what I had committed. They refused the money.

The ojisan knew what I had procured, knew it from the look in your eyes, he had told me.

I guess its cliche, but I guess staring into the abyss really does change a person. I still have uneasy dreams from time to time, I try not to dwell on the characters I read about, but its difficult. I swear sometimes I could draw Yoshitsu’s face from memory.

Last night, Shouta and I went to our favorite watering hole. We sat munching on plates of raw fish and grilled chicken, occasionally popping edamame beans into our mouth. We hadn’t talked much since the run-in with the book. We drank and ate in silence, and only opened our mouths to say our farewells at the station.

I still wonder what fate had befallen the villagers, had the book really spun them out of its own twisted imagination? There was a desperation I felt from the pit of my stomach, the willingness to know consumed me.

>>17024012
I began to write fervently, I don’t know about what or why, it felt like there was an invisible pressure building up inside me, and the only way to relieve it was to write.

For days at a time I locked myself in my apartment, the words coming unbidden from my fingertips. Whether I held a pen or poised my hands over a keyboard it didn’t matter. Hell, it didn’t even matter what language I wrote in, manuscripts in Korean, English, and Japanese began to fill up my room.

Shouta unexpectedly visited one day while I was in the depths of my writing, my health was deteriorating, he didn’t seem to care. He was worried that I had become possessed of something, but I barely heeded him. I continued my writing before it felt that my head was to catch on fire.

I would be amiss to say that my “possession” didn’t lead to some grand old adventures with Shouta. The discovery of “Gozu” had set larger plans into action, and I wish I could recount all of the wondrous, terrible things I was able to participate in alongside my mentor.
But that seems like a story for another time.

That marks the end of my first piece posted onto /x/, "Gozu," yay!

The addendum concluding the story of Yoshitsu and the village will be posted in a general creepypasta thread as a polished, edited, finalized .jpg.

Thank you very much for your support throughout this! It was a wild but fun ride, and I want to believe I got a little bit more confident about my writing.

As for future directions, I want to pursue the stories outlined in one of my posts, but I am torn between my traditional medicine story or adventures with Shouta. I guess I'll figure it out as I go along. As for posting stories on /x/, I guess I'll pop in when OC seems at an all time low.

>>17022795

I promise that I will send you an e-mail before the end of this week. Work has been crazy since its the holiday seasons, and its difficult to correspond with anyone, even family. I would love to talk shop and bounce ideas around.

>>17024029
Thanks man. Keep us updated.

>>17024029
Good job OP. Come up with some more horror stories on /x/, preferably real ones

>>17024029
Great story OP, Can't wait to see the finished product. I bookmarked your blog.

>>17024029
fuck you op that was fucking shit wtf who does that?

>>17024029
Not the best ending but it was a wonderfull story. Thanks OP

>>17027295
Could you link the blog?