Hello everyone! Here is the official sequel to Fatal Frame VI: Vengeance! I have other projects going on but I didn't want my fans to wait anymore. Although, because of school, I will be busy but I will do my best to post chapters whenever I can. Without further adieu, here is the prologue. Enjoy! :)

July 31, 1949

Hibiki-mura, a village a couple of miles outside of Tokyo

Crickets filled the night air with their summer chorus. Fireflies lit up the shadows under the trees and above the waters surface of the local lake, giving the area the endearing appearance of a peaceful and quaint countryside. Despite the chaos and despair that lingered four years after the country's surrender in World War II, the people here managed to do their best to rebuild their lives. But the way there was filled with great hardship and heartbreak. A fractured post-war economy made the Japanese yen next to worthless, food and fuel were hard to come by and countless civilians were unable to find work.

The glorious days of the divine God Emperor were gone forever now. Emperor Hirohito was no longer to be worshipped as the direct descendent of the great sun goddess Amaterasu, he was now to be seen as a down to earth, flesh and blood man. The great cities of Tokyo, Kyoto and Osaka, along with many others, were in the process of rebuilding, trying desperately to hide the scorched remnants and scars of the fire bombings caused by the American Air Force. But those were nothing compared to the awesome and bone chilling power of the two atomic bombs, "Little Boy" and "Fat Man…" Never before had such powerful weapons have been used and hopefully, for the sake of humanity, never, ever again.

Hiroshima and Nagasaki were obliterated; concrete structures were turned to dust, fires consumed older city districts, the morning sky turned to night from the ash and smoke, the smell of burning flesh became ingrained into the nostrils of shell-shocked survivors and the cries of agony and despair echoed down the devastated streets… The blasts had been so powerful, that the patterns of kimonos were scorched onto the flesh of the garments' wearer and the shadows of the less unfortunate who had been incinerated into nothingness were forever imprinted onto the walls and pavement of where they last stood or performed their final moments. As if to rub more salt into the open and seething wounds of Japan, the country surrendered to the Americans on September 2, 1945. It was all over. Everything that the great Imperial Japanese Army had done up to that point had been for nothing, every glorious sacrifice made by the patriotic young men of Japan had been meaningless in the end…

After the treaty was signed on the USS Missouri in Tokyo Bay, the American Army occupied Japan, and the world set about on rebuilding itself from the ashes of the Second World War. The United States and the Soviet Union were now the kings of the world and they did not hesitate to show it, especially the Americans. American Army bases were set up around Tokyo and in Okinawa. The American presence was seen and felt, even in little Hibiki-mura. GI's from the army bases in Tokyo would come with their girlfriends and "geisha girls"* to visit Kappa Lake to boat, fish and swim.

They would party, drink alcohol and dance with a curious and rambunctious choreography the likes the native Japanese had had never seen before. Most of the servicemen were obnoxious and they brought disrupted the natural tranquility of the area with their inconsiderate partying. However, the inhabitants of Hibiki-mura had to swallow their pride and cater to these men and their selfish behavior since they needed the money that they brought in. Besides, not all of the servicemen were self-serving drunkards with a grand sense of entitlement. Some were very respectful, especially the three Army nurses who came to work at the Okamoto Orphanage on the hill across from town and the lake.

All three were described as being wonderful women even though one of them was quite standoffish and reserved. They were wonderful with the children who lived in the orphanage and the sight of seeing the nurses, the orphanage matron and her niece leading a small army of children down from the hill towards the lake for a summer day of fun was a heartwarming sight. But this night, everything changed… It was a night that nobody in Hibiki-mura would ever forget. Especially for one miko and child…

That night, in front of the town shrine, the Hibiki-Tsukuyomi Shrine, a lone priestess was standing in front of the collection box. Despite it being in the midst of summer, a cool breeze from the lake flowing up the hill towards the shrine made the air feel as if it were early spring weather instead. Rubbing her shoulders, which were draped with a simple haori (kimono jacket), the priestess began to question why she was even at the shrine so late at night. Almost a half-hour ago, she was sound asleep in her bed in a small house close to the shrine. Her mind had become plagued by an incredibly eerie and realistic dream.

In it, a woman with her form mostly covered in shadow, appeared before her. Despite the darkness, the priestess saw that the woman was dressed in the ceremonial robes of a miko. She kept begging her fellow priestess to head to the shrine and that something had "failed again." She also kept saying that "somebody would be there." So far, the miko did not see anyone else arrive at the shrine.

All she could hear were the crickets and an occasional hoot from an owl. Despite the fact that her prophetic dream was apparently starting to turn out to be just that, a dream, the longer she waited, the miko nonetheless decided to stay longer. She could not ignore the context of that vision. It was too precise to be a figment of her sleeping imagination. A lake breeze blew gently upwards and the miko hugged herself to keep warm.

The sounds of forest shrubbery being trampled and pushed aside suddenly filled the night air. The miko turned to her left and she saw movement coming from the path in the forest that led up to the orphanage farther up the hill. A young girl then came bounding out of the woods. The minute the child saw the priestess, she began to cry out to her.

"Help! Please help me!"

The girl ran right into the arms of the priestess. The surprised woman looked over the young girl. She looked to be around eight or ten years old, she was wearing a white kimono that was stained with soot and the scent of smoke permeated the girl's being. Heat also wafted off of her body and sweat covered her skin. The young girl also had red, swollen eyes that were still leaking tears and she looked absolutely terrified and distraught.

"What happened?! What happened?!" the priestess asked, doing her best to comfort he girl.

She must have been one of the girls from the orphanage. The child stammered but she did manage to make her point across.

"The orphanage… it's on fire! My friends… the adults…"

The girl muttered a name that the miko could not hear. The priestess became frozen into place. With eyes widened with shock and alarm, she looked up towards the hill. Despite the thick summer foliage, the priestess could see a flickering orange mass of light at the top of the hill. Looking up into the sky, she could also clearly see a thick, black column of smoke rising up into the air.

"By the gods!"

Grabbing the kerosene lamp that she had brought with her during her trip to the shrine from the edge of the collection box, the miko then took the hand of the young girl and together they ran down to the village to get help.

"Come with me! Watch your step!" The priestess warned the young girl as they ran down the stairs that led to the shrine.

Since the town was mostly asleep at this time of night, the priestess went up to the fire-tower to awaken them. Climbing up the ladder, she grabbed the hammer beneath the old brass bell and she struck it twice as hard as she could, the two strikes** representing that a fire was near the town.

"Fire! Fire! There's a fire at the Okamoto Orphanage!" the priestess cried out.

Quickly the village was awakened by the sound and alarm. Soon the firefighters and volunteers were assembled and a fire truck drove up the winding driveway that led up to the orphanage and the firefighters began their efforts to put out the blaze. The inferno was fierce. Pulsing clouds of fire flowed out of the open windows as smoke poured out from the eaves and the burning roof of the orphanage. The aura of heat that surrounded the structure was so intense that the firefighters had to move the fire truck away from the building because the metal became too hot to touch.

Crowds of villagers waited anxiously down below praying for the salvation of the poor children and their caretakers who were still trapped inside their fiery prison. A few adventurous souls traveled up the hill to watch the firefighters combat the blaze. The priestess kept the poor girl close to her side as they listened to updates spread by a villager who shouted down what he was seeing during the debacle. When the call for more water was spread, some villagers instantly rounded up some long hoses and a water pump to get water from the lake. The combined efforts were still not enough and the fire continued to rage.

As one firefighter looked up into the hellish inferno, something caught his sweat and heat irritated eyes. In the raging blaze, the young man discerned what appeared to be a shadowy figure standing in front of a window on the second floor of the orphanage. Judging by the height and shape the figure appeared to be a woman and she just stood there looking out on the firefighters and volunteers as they did their best to calm the fire. The figure then slowly turned away and walked off from the window. The young man blinked and suddenly a high-pressure fire hose shot a powerful stream of water into the window, shattering the glass.

As the fight continued, the priestess and the young girl from the now burning orphanage waited down the hill for any possible news. The priestess kept her hands wrapped around the young girl, making her feel safe and secure. Despite this, the priestess could feel the girl shivering beneath her hands. Cold tears fell from the young girl's eyes but she could barely felt them. What she had seen within the burning orphanage… What had happened within those halls…

The images would not leave her head.

And they never would.

Even as some concerned villagers walked up to the girl and asked her if she saw anyone else escape from the fire, she would not answer. Terror had frozen her lips together; her gaze was pointed straight at the apex of the hill that now looked like the smoldering top of a volcano. The fight against the flames would continue for hours more until 6:30 in the morning. After waiting a little for the structure to cool, firefighters began their investigation and search for the bodies of any unfortunate soul who could not escape the blaze. They soon came upon a tragic reality.

No one else but the young girl had managed to escape.

There had been twenty-five people living in the orphanage at the time of the blaze, twenty of them being children. The ages of the children ranged from the oldest being twelve and the youngest being five. All nineteen of the remaining kids were still in their rooms, the doors were for some mysterious reason were locked and the firefighters had to kick them down. The children were all found to be huddled in the far corners of their rooms holding each other… The smoke and heat had claimed them.

The adults, all of them women and ages ranging from twenty-three to sixty-one. Three of them were the nurses from the United States Army who were there to help the matron, Sachiko Okamoto and her niece, Hiromi to take care of the orphans and to help foster amicable US and Japanese ties within the next generation. The nurses and the matron's niece were, somewhat unfortunately, not claimed by smoke inhalation. Their bodies were found scattered about the hallways of the orphanage, charred and some were barely recognizable. Undoubtedly, they were trying to save the children or find a way to combat the blaze.

Or so the authorities thought...

It was a terribly heartbreaking sight to see the bodies taken out in blanket covered stretchers, especially the children. Those poor orphans had already lost so much during the war and now, four years after its end, they lost their lives before they even had the chance to start anew. The people of Hibiki-mura found solace in the belief that the youngsters had been reunited with their families in the afterlife. However, they couldn't imagine the anguish the sole surviving child was going through though. She had been staying with the priestess at her cottage for the time being until a solution to her predicament could be found.

Nobody in the village could adopt her for financial reasons but they wanted to help her find a good home. The local newspaper published the story about the fire and young girl and a week later, a well-off family from Tokyo responded to the story expressing an interest in adopting the child. This news made the townspeople happy that the young girl was going have a family again and was going to leave the town where her recent trauma had taken place. After she was sent off with her new family, the people then began the process of trying to move on themselves from the tragedy. The priestess and the shrine kannushi began an appeasement ritual to try and soothe the souls of the dead children and nurses, hoping that they would be able to move on.

To the sound of the priestess ringing bells, the kannushi chanted and the townspeople that were present began to pray. A warm, sweet fragrance floated from an incense burner located on a small makeshift altar before the charred remains of the orphanage. As the miko continued the rhythmic ringing of the bells, a strange feeling came over her. It felt as if someone was staring at her. The priestess looked out into the crowd.

Most of the people had their heads bowed, their foreheads almost touching their extended fingertips as they prayed. Everyone else was watching the ceremony. The sensation of being stared at wasn't coming from the crowd. Now very curious, the miko turned her head up slowly to look at the second floor of the orphanage. A chill ran down her spine.

Standing in front of one of the soot stained windows was, what appeared to a child. From what the priestess could glean from the few clear spaces on the stained glass, it was a young child wearing a purple kimono and had paper white skin. Eerily enough, the miko thought she recognized the kimono. During Shinto festivals, Sachiko Okamoto would bring the children to the shrine to pray and celebrate and the miko could recall only one girl wearing a purple kimono.

But that was impossible.

That girl died in the fire just last week…

How could she be at the window right now?

A pale left hand touched the blackened windowpane and another chill crawled up the priestess's spine.

"Where did she go…?"

The faint, childlike voice carried over to the miko's ears. The suddenness of it all caused the priestess to drop her bell stick. The kannushi stopped chanting and he looked over at the miko with concern, as did the gathered townspeople. Feeling the eyes of everyone being cast upon her, the miko immediately picked up the bells and began to shake them again. The ritual recommenced as if nothing had happened.

As she continued ringing the bells, the priestess looked up towards the window again. The girl was gone.

However…

A small clear handprint was left on the soot stained glass pane.

After the ceremony was completed and everyone went back home, the girl reappeared at the window and watched the miko as she left for the shrine. The miko turned to look back at the orphanage but she could not see the ghost girl that was watching her intently. After the priestess had left, tears fell from the eyes of the poor purple clad girl. She looked out the window, both hands this time on the charred glass.

"She left me to burn…" she softly aloud to herself.

As the priestess made her way down the path following the kannushi who was carrying the makeshift altar; two helpful villagers carried the offertory boxes while the miko carried the incense burner, a bloodcurdling howl of anguish reached her ears. The scream was of an otherworldly nature and it caused goose bumps and chills to break out all over the priestess's body. Deeply alarmed, the miko swiftly turned around and ran back up to the orphanage. She looked into the windows once again, only to find nothing there. A cold aura had seemingly fallen over the orphanage and the miko shivered in the suddenly cold mid-afternoon summer air.

Everything was eerily quiet, no birds were singing, not even the sound a dead branch falling off a tree could be heard from the surrounding woods. Spooked even more now, the miko ran from the orphanage. When she finally reached the foot of the hill, everything came back to normal. The sounds of the village at work and the people going about their daily business comforted the miko. However, this also disturbed her as well.

"Is everything alright?" the kannushi asked her.

The miko saw that the kannushi and the two villagers were looking at her with concern. None of them had heard that scream. Not knowing what do, the woman told them that she thought that she had forgotten something important and ran back up to see if she did. The group accepted this answer and they began to walk back to the Hibiki-Tsukuyomi Shrine, the miko casting anxious glances towards the top of the hill as she followed them. To the villagers, the ceremony was a success but the miko knew better. Whatever had happened in the orphanage that night was still there… And it was now waiting, watching and hoping for someone to come into the orphanage.

So they could see nightmare that was now unfolding…

So what do you guys think? Creepy? Ominous? This story will bring to light the aftermath of World War II and how it has affected Japan in both the past and future. So this will be both a sad, horror and mystery story. Thank you for reading and please review! :)

*= A nickname for prostitutes in Japan given to them by American soldiers. That moniker also gave the misinterpretation to other Americans that actual geishas were also prostitutes themselves.

**= Learned this from a special website called "Dezomeshiki: Firefighting Japanese Style" when I was editing this. One ring meant that a fire was in the distance, two meant one was within the vicinity of the town/village and this allowed the firefighters and volunteers to group up and prepare and multiple rings meant that there was a fire in the town itself. Its a very interesting site.