in pieces, and then Hiroshi screamed.
The entire left side of Emi’s chest was crushed in, gaping and open like a bloodied mouth with shattered-rib teeth. Her intact skin was drawn tight over her ribs, so that even her remaining breast was little more than a thin slab of worm-white flesh. Her belly, grossly bloated to the point where it seemed she would burst, was bruised and thickly veined, and a finger could be seen poking out in a slice across her belly.
The group scattered like roaches, no sense or direction to them. It was everyone for themselves as Emi stood there, shoulders hunched with a contradictory swirl of pride and shame. One of them was heading straight towards the forest. Worry spiked through her; not only was that her hiding place, but it was dangerous to anyone who didn’t know the terrain. The rainy season had cut a wide, deep ravine through the ground not fifty feet past the tree line.
She would have headed out to stop him, but she realized that Rie - the one who had wanted to leave - was paralyzed with fear before her, her breaths coming in shuddering gasps and her eyes so wide, Emi thought they might just pop out of her head. Emi wasn’t comfortable with treating her like one of the troublemakers, so she took a conciliatory step back and swept one hand towards the gate. “Find yourself some new friends,” she said softly. “Go. Leave. I won’t hurt you.”
“What are you?” Rie whimpered, trying to take a step towards her exit but collapsing from fear.
Emi smiled bitterly. “I think I’m a jikininki.”
Rie’s eyes widened in understanding, and her trembling grew stronger. Attaching a name to the evils, it turned out, didn’t always make one feel safer. “And you promise not to hurt me?”
“Only if you promise not to get people to look for me.”
“Does the groundskeeper know you live here?”
“He does. He and I have an arrangement. Now, I’m not kidding - leave. I’m hungry, and I can’t eat until you guys are all gone.”
Rie looked like she was going to be sick, but she stood and scampered away, sobbing as she climbed over the fence, fell hard to the other side, and sprinted homeward. Emi swept her area quickly, making sure the others had left - not that she imagined they’d want to stick around - before heading towards the panting, crying boy who was clawing his way into the forest. He was only about thirty feet in, but that was far too deep for Emi’s liking. She caught a glimpse and realized it was Hiroshi. “Hiroshi! Stop!!” she called.
He groaned in terror and picked up his already-breakneck pace. “No! Leave me, just leave me, I swear I won’t come back!!”
“Hiroshi, you need to stop right now!” Emi howled after him.
Hiroshi began to answer, but his words were cut off with a scream. Emi stopped in her tracks and gasped, both hands flying up to her mouth. She knew, by the clattering of stone and the echo of his voice, that he had fallen down the ravine. She could hear him scrabbling to recover, but to no avail - ten feet down, and the wet squelch of blood and bone sounded from not so far away. Emi rushed over and looked down at him with horror. He’d landed directly on his head, right on top of the lowest edge of the rock she used to climb down into it. Blood leaked from the corner of his mouth, and his head hung loosely at an impossible angle.
Emi’s dismay froze her to the spot. She shook her head and buried her face in his hands. “No, no,” she whimpered. “I didn’t want you to die! I just wanted to scare you, that’s all!” She could feel tears welling up in her eyes. “Please, don’t be dead. Please.” She climbed down to check his pulse, though she knew it was a useless endeavor. No one survived their neck being broken, not like that. He was stone-still, his pulse mute in his veins. Emi shook her head again, then took a deep breath in through her nose to try to steady herself…
…and oh, hell, that smelled delicious.
Her mouth was watering almost before she even realized what it was that smelled so good. Her fear changed focus as her stomach roared at her. It was most definitely time to eat.
“No!” she shouted, even as her hands ripped his shirt upward, baring the soft flatness of his belly. She could feel herself moving; despite her most frantic efforts to turn away, her hunger drove her without mercy. The desperation took precedence over her reservation, and she was helpless to stop herself as she dug her nails into his stomach and tore off a chuck of flesh - still warm, still pink, still bloody. Emi sobbed helplessly, spattering blood all over her knees, as she took the first bite.
Goro’s graveyard was great in a pinch, but corpses didn’t come much fresher than this.
###
What is an jikininki?
According to Japanese Buddhism, jikininki (also known as shokujinki) are the spirits of greedy, arrogant, or selfish people who were cursed after death. They are punished for their negative traits by being compelled to eat the flesh of human corpses - the fresher, the better. Jikininki are a bit like zombies in some ways, but they retain their intelligence and will loot the corpses they eat, bribe people to leave them alone, and avoid contact with those who could harm them. Of course, this intelligence is a double-edged sword - they are aware they are being punished, and are disgusted and horrified by their own relentless cravings for human carrion.
###
Author’s Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000730778650
The Bestiary Tales Facebook Fan Page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Bestiary-Tales/281348285228246?skip_nax_wizard=true
Author’s DeviantArt: https://www.chubby-choco.deviantart.com
Allison Graham is a scriptwriter and dog-grooming student who lives in the middle of nowhere with a house full of pets and a love of the fantastically unbelievable. A longtime cryptozoology and mythology fan, she started The Bestiary Tales as a way to connect with fans and remind people of the long-forgotten creatures which so many of our ancestors feared, worshipped, or respected.
She loves anime and manga, singing, drawing, costuming, watching elimination-based television shows like Project Runway and Masterchef (she knows nothing about fashion, but fancies herself a pretty good cook), and, of course, studying up in her vast and baffling mythology library.
She would like to point out that anyone curious about her artwork, attempts at poetry, and costumes should visit her DeviantArt - she loves new watchers and friends! Anyone who wishes to talk about the Bestiary Tales, ask about her sources, and even suggest new creatures for upcoming stories is welcome to reach her via Facebook.
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends