Note: This story is based on the book Ring (1991), by Koji Suzuki. In this novel, Kazuyuki Asakawa is a journalist who is investigating some mysterious deaths. In the midst of his investigation, he discovers a tape with a curse - whoever watches it dies in seven days.

The Tape

Yoko Asakawa sipped her bitter coffee as her mind trailed off to the events of last month. Her father, Kazuyuki, had finally stabilized and was only two days away from going back home. Sure, he would need her help now, but it definitely beat the painstaking month he endured in the ICU. After spending the remainder of visiting hours chatting, Yoko kissed her father goodbye and left. The last month had been mind-numbing, but she finally felt hope again. And then came the night of the call.

Yoko woke up in a cold sweat, she could have sworn she heard her father calling her name. Her phone rang, the little hairs on the back of her neck stood: it was from the hospital. Her father had suffered a heart attack. When she finally got there, the look on his face burned a hole in her stomach. His hands grasped his head, as if he had been tearing at his hair. His expression was ghastly: terrified eyes and mouth wide open, as if in mid-scream. His voice echoed in her mind, a raspy call for help. Yoko. Yoko…

"Yoko!" Inspector Ueda slammed her desk. "I need you working a case. Take Nishihara with you".

xxx

Yoko waited for Satoru Nishihara in the car. They had been partners for almost three years now. Once he was in, she started the engine, heading eastbound towards the crime scene. As usual, they had to push through a small crowd to get to the bodies. CSI was already there.

"Two bodies, both male, eighteen. Takashi Sada and Owen Thorne, American." said one of the men. "They were found by the owner of the store across the street when he was opening up." he pointed to a small stationery shop.

"Well, let's see them." Satoru said, crouching down next to the bodies. As soon as the covers were lifted, Yoko felt a familiar whole in her stomach.

"What's with their faces?" asked Satoru.

"We're not sure, we would have to examine further. As of now, I can only tell you we haven't found any blood or wounds." said the investigator.

"Okay. Guess we'll talk to that shop owner then," Satoru turned to Yoko.

He interrogated the woman, while Yoko stood beside him trying to pay attention. Their expression… It's weird, why would it be the same as dad's? She only heard parts of the conversation, something about a homeless man. She wanted to dismiss this as a coincidence, but it didn't feel right.

"Alright, thank you for your time." Nishihara said, handing him a business card. "Call me if you remember anything else."

Back in the car, Yoko drove silently back to the station. Satoru glanced her way. He noticed something was troubling her, but didn't ask.

"Witness says there's a homeless man who wanders through that neighborhood quite often, goes by Mako. He is usually by that alley in the morning, the bakery next door gives him free food. He lives a few minutes away, want to check it out?"

xxx

"Wait, so you believe him?" Satoru and Yoko walked through the corridor leading up to the medical examiner's office.

"Well, it's the only clue we have so far. It's a little unusual but not impossible." she said, but she understood her partner's skepticism.

Yesterday during their encounter with Mako, he revealed that he had indeed seen the boys. He said they looked tired and sweaty, like they had been partying. Out of nowhere, both of them fell to the ground, hands pressed to their chest. Mako said they gasped for air and started pulling their own hair. They looked terrified. By the time he got to them, they were dead. He got scared and ran, leaving the bodies to be found by the shop owner.

"Maybe it's drug related," Yoko suggested, even though she didn't believe it herself. They reached the entrance and she pushed the door open.

"Dr. Shiroma," Nishihara started, "What can you tell us about the cause of death?"

"Both of them died from heart attacks." replied Shiroma. Yoko's body felt tense. Just like dad, she thought. Oblivious to this, Dr. Shiroma continued.

"Other than abrasions on the arms, probably from falling on the rough ground, there is nothing else on the bodies. Toxicology report showed small traces of alcohol in the blood, but nothing significant. And no sign of drug use."

"Our witness said they were pulling their own hair before dying, is that common during heart attacks?" Yoko asked, eager.

"Pulling their hair? No, that's not very common." Dr. Shiroma answered. "You know, I've had someone ask me this same question once. This man was investigating a similar case, oddly enough. But this was a good 20 years ago."

"Do you happen to remember his name?" Nishihara asked, notepad in hand.

"No, sorry. But if I do remember I'll make sure to give you a call."

xxx

Satoru went back to the station, planning to find out more about the victims, contact family, look for clues. Yoko took off early to deal with the task she had been putting off for the last week: figuring out what to do with her father's belongings.

There wasn't much to his name. Before his month-long stay in the hospital, he had sold his house and moved in with her, bringing only a few boxes with him. Most of them were old files and books, records from when he worked as a journalist. Yoko decided to keep those.

After putting his clothes in bags to be donated, Yoko sat in the middle of the empty bedroom, sobbing quietly. Her father had always been a busy man. He wasn't home much. The few months they lived together made up for all the time they had lost. It was the happiest she had felt in a long time.

She wiped her tears and stood, ready to go to bed, when out of the corner of her eye she noticed a journal on the nightstand. She picked it up and started to read. It was mostly about his work, the columns he wrote, research he did. There was a page marked with a paperclip. The first entry read:

September 8th, 1990

I've been curious about the deaths of those three teenagers. Shizu's niece, Tomoko, died in the exact same way they did. The official cause of death was heart attack, but all four of them died with a scared expression, clinging to their own hair.

Yoko froze. Could this be a coincidence? She kept reading.

I spoke to a doctor about this. Asked if it was a usual thing to happen to someone during a heart attack. His name was Shiroma.

Someone called her. Nishihara.

"Hey, Dr. Shiroma called. He remembered the name of that guy he was talking about" Satoru said on the phone. "You'll never guess who it was."

"Kazuyuki Asakawa." they said in unison.

xxx

Satoru sat in the armchair, rubbing his temples in an attempt to ease his headache. Yoko paced back and forth in her living room, files scattered on the coffee table and the ground.

"Yoko, are you sure about this?" Nishihara looked at her.

"I don't know what to think." she replied. "I know it seems weird, but look at the cause of death, the hair gripping. It has to be connected!"

After their discovery, Yoko continued to read her father's journal, but there were pages missing, sentences scribbled over, entire paragraphs covered by blotches of ink. The only thing that appeared consistently throughout the entries were two words: "the tape". She couldn't make sense of it. She called Satoru for help, and together they went through all of the files.

What they pieced together so far was that in 1990 four teenagers died under mysterious circumstances, all on the same day and time. All died from heart attacks, clutching their hair in their hands. Her father and Ryuji, an old friend, investigated these deaths for a week, before Ryuji passed in the same manner as the others. They gathered a few dates and names as well, but there was no context whatsoever.

"Wait, was this here before?" Yoko asked, picking up a parcel from the table that suddenly caught her attention.

"What it is?"

She ripped the paper and shivered. "The tape."

With trembling hands, she pushed the tape into the VCR. Yoko and Satoru sat, watching the images, confused. At the end, a message:

Those who have viewed these images are fated to die at this exact hour one week from now. If you do not wish to die, you must follow these instructions exactly…

And nothing. The tape ends. The phone rings.