Paper Umbrella Ghost Story
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The rain was falling heavily, turning the dirt path into a treacherous river of mud. As the young merchant hurried home, a strange noise cut through the downpour. Clack, clack. It sounded like a single wooden sandal striking the stone steps. He stopped. The sound stopped. He took a breath, and a massive, wet tongue suddenly wrapped around his neck from the absolute darkness behind him.
It was the late hours of the night in the bustling city of Edo. Kenji, a young worker at a local fabric store, was making his way back to his quarters. He had stayed far too late at a tavern celebrating a successful sale. The lively energy of the tavern was now just a fading memory, replaced by the gloomy, relentless rain that soaked through his thin cloak. The narrow alleyways were empty, lit only by the occasional flicker of a dying lantern swaying in the harsh wind. He clutched his own paper umbrella tightly, grateful for its sturdy bamboo frame. The world seemed completely silent, save for the rhythmic patter of raindrops hitting the oiled paper above his head. He longed for his warm bed, quickening his pace as he navigated the labyrinth of dark streets, unaware that the shadows were watching him.
As Kenji turned a corner near an old, abandoned shrine, the atmosphere shifted. The air grew suddenly cold, carrying the faint smell of damp earth and ancient wood. Then, he heard it. Clack. Splash. Clack. Splash. It was a distinct sound, rhythmic yet oddly unbalanced. It sounded exactly like someone walking in a single wooden clog. Kenji paused, gripping his umbrella tighter. He glanced over his shoulder, but there was nothing but the rainy void. 'Just the wind,' he muttered to himself, trying to shake off the creeping unease. He started walking again, faster this time. The sound immediately followed him. Clack, clack, clack. It was getting closer, matching his frantic pace. Panic began to rise in his chest. He broke into a nervous jog, his heart pounding in his ears, but the solitary footstep remained right on his heels, a relentless pursuer in the storm.
Unable to bear the suspense any longer, Kenji skidded to a halt and spun around, brandishing his umbrella like a sword. 'Who is there?' he yelled, his voice trembling. For a second, there was absolute silence. Then, a lightning flash illuminated the alley. Standing less than three feet away was not a man, but an enormous, battered paper umbrella. It was balancing perfectly on a single, muscular leg clad in a high wooden sandal. Before Kenji could even process the absurdity of the sight, the canopy of the umbrella snapped open slightly. A single, gigantic eye, bloodshot and manic, glared down at him. The fabric ripped open, revealing a gaping maw. With a sickening slurp, a massive, thick red tongue shot out from the creature's mouth. It swiped directly across Kenji's pale face, leaving a trail of warm, foul-smelling slime. Kenji's eyes rolled back. He let out a piercing shriek that echoed through the empty city blocks, his legs giving way as he collapsed onto the muddy ground in sheer terror.
When Kenji finally regained consciousness, the rain had stopped. The pale light of dawn was beginning to creep into the alleyway. He was alone, covered in mud and a strange, sticky residue. He frantically looked around for the one-eyed monster, but there was no sign of the terrifying creature. The only thing lying near him on the wet cobblestones was an old, broken paper umbrella, entirely ordinary and motionless. It looked exactly like the one he had thrown away in this very alley a month ago when a single bamboo rib had snapped. Kenji scrambled to his feet, grabbed his unbroken umbrella, and ran the rest of the way home without looking back. He would never walk near that shrine at night again. But as he fled, the broken umbrella remained in the alley, waiting silently in the shadows. What compels a discarded object to rise up and seek out the living?