I was scrutinizing my map of Japan earlier, and something troubled me. One side of it read: "Mysteries Within the Mist! Folklore Hanuda" in bold black lettering, featuring a lengthy article exposing a so-called "Hanuda Incident" that draws thousands of tourists daily in commute to the small village, equipped with Ouija boards and video cameras. It also diagrammed Hanuda in bite-sized portions, labeling tourist attractions in each section with red stars.
This is what I had used to determine Stephen's approximate location, and also to determine my own (Karuwari). But as I turned my attention to the other side of the map (on the opposite page), something became shockingly apparent to me. This one illustrated Japan as a whole, along with a smidgen of it closest neighbors- basically North and South Korea. Next to Japan, however, there was no small island- no Hanuda. At first I simply thought it had vanished into thin air, which wasn't at all hard to believe given all I'd experienced already. But as I skimmed through the geographical contents of Japan, I noticed a red star surrounded on all sides by triangles. A glance at the map legend was all it took for my jaw to drop. The triangles were mountains. The only words written by the red star in the key were: "see opposite side."
...Which is when I realized.
Hanuda is a mountain village. It didn't take long to retrieve a flashlight from the basement where I lay and open the door leading upstairs. I was baffled by the revelation I had made, and I needed to satisfy my swelling curiosity.
I'd been locked up in that wretched chapel for ages, it seemed. Dust danced quietly through the air. As I crept warily toward the last of the pews to the gothic-style door, my flashlight illuminated something suspicious on the floor beneath me. I bent down and brushed against what felt like paper; I had found a local news publication, remarkably dated August 3, 1976. The article described "torrential rain and landslides" and 33 reportedly missing individuals lost in the wake of the storm. The disaster area was referred to as the Mizumi District, most of which is comprised of Hanuda's northern region.
Confusion turned to rage as I plunged into the crimson-shaded darkness outside the chapel and proceeded to the back wall of the place, recalling a ladder embedded in the crumbling bricks. I climbed savagely, reaching toward a long slab of concrete on the roof that lead to a golden bell likely rung during services. I looked outward over Hanuda, desperation consuming me.
Red waters on all ends of the 'island.'
A barbaric howl ruptured the silence below. I looked over the edge where the ladder stood to see a hideous gray form staring up at me, blood gushing from its eyes like a puddle, settling near the cheeks. I knocked over the ladder, shrugged it off, and turned back to a most dire sunset portrait.
No element of shock was palpable.
A clear objective had materialized before me. My motions to slip away from the island had begun.
…And now to find Stephen.
