horror town

Horror town story for all the horror town story lovers:

Have you ever wondered what true evil is? Probably not, because really bad things don’t happen that often in one person’s life, but when they happen the person memorizes them for the rest of his life.

But what if I told you that there is some place where evil things happen over and over and over again with the same persons. And usually, there are no malicious people involved. Usually, these are just coincidences, bad luck one could say, but I would say that it’s the true evil. The evil we don’t know anything about because no one really knows that this evil exists, only some special people like me. But who would listen to the crazy girl? I guess that is my own curse in here…

My name is Yoko and I live in the asylum of the… Hmm. Maybe it’s not such a good idea to tell where exactly. I’m afraid some people would be drawn by this and would want to come here, but they really shouldn’t. From now on I’ll call this place the Village of Nightmare.

It’s a small Japanese mountain village. The same kind of villages you can find all around Japan. It lays between mountains in a beautiful valley, and the village is beautiful itself too. You can find here small traditional Japanese houses which are well maintained from the ancient times. The grass here is full of small animals, skies of birds, but little ponds and canals of fish. One could think that this is the paradise on Earth, yet it is more like hell.

To not confuse you I’ll tell you right away that my asylum isn’t like any other. I’m not restrained at all because they say that my illness is not endangering the people around me in any way. And that’s true because I’m not really sick, I just remember things no one is able to remember and they just live their loop over and over again. Because of this, I can wander through the village all I want until the evening hour when everyone in the asylum is ought to go to sleep.

You may wonder why I don’t run away from here if I have so much freedom, but that is the story for some other time. At first, you have to know why I would want to run away in the first place.


Ichiro lived in the tenth house from the main road. If I wanted to buy something in the grocery store, I had to pass his house. He was just a small boy, six years old, and he liked to play on the sill with his toys.

The window was located on the second floor. You may think that this was dangerous, but it wasn’t because his parents had put the grate on the window so he couldn’t fall out.

So, I was passing by his home from time to time, until the evil events started to happen.

I’d noticed that some screws holding the grate had rusted and cut loose. I wanted to tell his parents about this, but they didn’t want to see or hear me. They were so irritated when I came over and slammed the door shut the moment they saw me. Remember, I was the crazy girl from the asylum.

No adults really want to speak with me. Some pretend to be nice, but when they see the chance of cutting the conversation they all do it. However, some are not holding back at all like Ichiro’s parents. They openly tell me that I’m the crazy girl and here in Japan it’s considered to be very rude because generally, people here are polite.

So, as I couldn’t do anything about the grate on the window I just hoped for the best. In the normal world, he would probably just fall out of the window some day and get a couple of bruises. The window wasn’t located very high. But I knew that this wouldn’t happen this way in this village… I started to go to the grocery store each day and was watching him closely as if it would save him somehow.

Two weeks passed by and nothing really happened. We got so accustomed to each other that he waved me every time I went by and I waved him back. In my thoughts, he was my friend. Someone who didn’t think I was the crazy girl.

Each Monday the garbage truck went to the Village of Nightmare to collect all the waste. It arrived here at approximately the same time when I went to the grocery store.

One of these Mondays the garbage truck was parked right below Ichiro’s window. He was playing on the sill as usual. Nothing special was happening. The same peaceful view of the countryside as usual.

I waved to Ichiro when I was approaching the house, but he didn’t notice me this time. He’d been playing with his toy soldiers, but some crow had seen the gleam of the toys, and it had taken one of them away while Ichiro wasn’t watching. Now the boy was stretching his arm through the grate in order to catch the bird, but it was already high in the sky.

Usually, the grate didn’t need to hold the pressure put on it, so it was standing in the place just fine, but this time was different. Ichiro’s arm was pushing it. The old screws popped out of their places, and the grate fell off. Ichiro lost his balance and fell too.

The opening of the garbage truck’s container was right below him so he fell inside. He didn’t get any injuries because of the garbage, but this was the point where things got their evil way.

The driver had already collected all the garbage and was sitting in the cabin. In this rural area, he was working alone. The driver turned on the garbage compressing device. Ichiro started to scream and tried to crawl out, but the driver couldn’t hear him from the cabin because the truck was pretty loud.

At that moment, I wasn’t right next to the house. I was some distance away and started to run as fast as I could to get to the garbage truck, but it was already too late.

Ichiro stretched his arm at the moment when the metal press was closing shut. The arm got cut between two metal edges and fell on the street while Ichiro was being pressed inside of the container. When I run beside the truck I could hear the bones breaking through device’s noise.

”Stop, stop, please stop,” I screamed at the driver and waved frantically.

With a confused look, the driver stopped the press and asked, ”What’s the matter?”

”The boy, Ichiro, he’s in the container,” I uttered.

I remember that the driver opened the press and found Ichiro’s body inside terribly distorted. The arms and legs had many open fractures, blood spilled on the garbage, but the most terrible was Ichiro’s head. It was flattened a bit and one of his eyes had popped out. It was impossible to hold the vomit inside. I puked on the street again and again. The driver puked too.

Then came the police and the ambulance. Ichiro’s parents cried and cried; their tears were unstoppable. A lot of people came to see what had happened; for them, it was unusual to see such events here, but not for me… I hardly remember the rest of the day, but when I woke up the next morning I just knew that the world had reset itself…

At first, I was afraid to go to Ichiro’s house, so I avoided going there, but for how long? I couldn’t avoid it forever. I came there a couple of days later.

When I passed by, the world really had reset itself. Ichiro was playing on the sill again as nothing had happened. I waved to him and he waved me back; nothing had changed except the look on my face which radiated sadness as I knew that he would die again the next Monday…

No one in the village remembered anything about the incident, and I didn’t bother to tell them anymore; it was pointless. This was the exact reason why I was in the asylum. You may think that I’m crazy for real, but I know it’s not true. I just have some special power to resist this place.

When Monday came, I woke up much earlier to try and stop the unlucky events. I thought that I could get to Ichiro’s house before the garbage truck.

When the house emerged behind the hill, my heart was starting to race. The damn garbage truck was already there and I found myself repeating the same event again. I was too late…

The grate, the crow, the toy soldier, the garbage truck’s press; everything the same… Then screams, cracking bones, spilled blood and distorted face of a little, innocent boy…

Each Monday it repeated the same way. I tried to come to the house even earlier, but the truck was always there. Of course, you may think that I could stay up the whole night, but it wasn’t possible for me. I was locked in the asylum during the night and when I got out the earliest time possible it was already too late for Ichiro.

Still, I wasn’t going to give up that easily. After a month, I tried a different thing. The grate covering the window had to be attached firmly. That would save poor Ichiro. So, as his parents wouldn’t listen to me normally, I decided to scare them. I came to their house on Tuesday.

”Go away, crazy girl!” Ichiro’s mother said when she saw that it was me who was knocking on the door. Then she slammed the door shut.

I knocked again. No results. I started to pound on the door. She didn’t open, but I heard her steps behind it. She probably was waiting for me to leave. Then I made my most menacing voice and started to speak through the door.

”Kobayashi-san, I know you’re there, I know you’re listening. Your boy is going to die, Kobayashi-san. He’ll fall out of the window and crack his skull. The grate is too old to hold him. Change the screws.”

Then I made a disgusting giggle to make this even more unsettling for Kobayashi-san.

When I went away, I felt exhausted. I didn’t like to be the crazy girl, but just now I’d pretended to be her. I knew that this would cause even more rumors about me, but I had to save Ichiro.

When I passed by Ichiro’s house the next day, I saw that there was a new grate covering the window. My plan had worked! A tide of joy run through my heart. But I had to be sure that the boy’s death wouldn’t happen again, so I waited till next Monday.

When the day came and Ichiro’s house appeared behind the hill, the garbage truck was also in its place. The crow took Ichiro’s toy soldier while he was watching something in his room. When Ichiro noticed the crow, he yelled at it, and it dropped the toy.

At that moment, something told me this wasn’t going to end well. Somehow I found myself even further away from the event than usual. I started to run.

The toy fell inside the garbage truck and the next thing I saw was Ichiro coming out through the parade door of his house.

”Ichiro! Stop, stop!” I yelled.

He noticed me but didn’t listen. The boy crawled into the garbage compartment to look for his toy. He got the toy, and I almost had reached the truck.

The driver had gathered the garbage already and was sitting in the cabin without a clue what was going on. He turned on the garbage compressing device. Right in front of my eyes, the mechanism turned and sucked Ichiro inside. Again I heard screams and bones cracking. The following just repeated the previous scenes. Nothing new, nothing changed…

This was how this world worked. Nothing could stop bad things from happening over and over and over again. These things were paced perfectly so nothing could disturb them. In a mere matter of seconds, the fate could have been changed, but it didn’t happen.

Nothing I did would stop the Village of Nightmare, nothing… I just had to accept this order of things. All in all, I’m just a simple girl. I don’t know anything about why this place has such a curse. What can I possibly do?

But this isn’t the end of this story. The fate changed and not because the place grew tired of tormenting the boy. I changed it.

The case with the Ichiro was the one I got so worked up on that I decided to do anything to save the boy. Even to give my own life…


I knew that the garbage truck went to the neighboring village on Saturdays, so I decided to warn the driver to be more careful with the garbage when he comes to work on Monday.

The driver was collecting the bags when I came over.

”Hello Mister! Could I please speak to you?”

He looked at me and noticing that I wasn’t an important person answered, ”Yeah, what is it?”

”Please Mister, when you come to ……… on Monday be careful. In the tenth house from the main road, there lives a small boy. Sometimes he crawls into the garbage. Please double check the container before starting the press.”

”What are you talking about? My company has never had such an accident. Our services are perfectly safe,” he looked at me frustrated. Then some revelation came into his eyes, ”Hey, I know you. You’re that girl everyone talks about, the crazy one. Don’t pollute my mind with your ideas! I’ve got a work to do!”

That was it for me. I ran away from him trying to stop the tears, but I couldn’t. They trickled down my cheeks. I just ran down the road until my feet hurt and heart raced like crazy. Then I sat on the ground below some big tree. Bushes covered me from the sun and unneeded looks.

I wasn’t able to change the fate of Ichiro. No matter what I’d try it was always going to end the way it did.

The wind in treetops sighed, cicadas were singing like crazy, there were no clouds in the blue skies over the mountains and silence prevailed. Nothing indicated the approaching tragedy in this picturesque place, but I knew that it was coming.

Then I heard a noise from the distance. It was the damn garbage truck approaching this place. My mind wasn’t clear at that moment and I felt devastated. I hadn’t really thought about suicide before, but then it struck me that it could be the escape from here and also my last attempt to do something about Ichiro.

When the garbage truck was almost there, I just walked out from the bushes in the middle of the road. The driver would remember my last words about the small boy if he killed me.

The next thing that happened was brakes and tires squeaking in a fight with physical forces. But it was too late; the truck couldn’t stop that fast. I closed my eyes and waited for my death. Then I heard a terrible noise of metal bending and glass smashing.

The truck hadn’t hit me, instead, the driver had turned the wheel and crashed the truck into the tree below which I’d been sitting just a moment ago.

I hurried to the cabin to see if he was okay. The cabin wasn’t smashed all that much, because the speed hadn’t been that great, but when I saw him my eyes widened in a true shock.

What is the perimeter of the Village’s of Nightmare impact zone? I don’t know, but that was the time when I could tell that it wasn’t a normal crash, although I was out of the village’s borders.

The tree had one low and sturdy branch. This branch had smashed through the windshield and impaled the driver’s chest right where his heart was. Blood was dripping from the wound on his working uniform creating there a crimson stain. It was also trickling from his nose making two creeks around the mouth. The driver’s eyes were wide open as if he’d seen something terrible before the death, and his face had a terrible grimace from all the pain he’d endured.

I ran again, just away from the place. I’d killed him. Unintentionally but still… I’d acted very stupidly, not thinking about the consequences.

That day I went back to the asylum and laid all day in the bed crying in my pillow.

When Monday came, no garbage trucks entered the Village of Nightmare. Ichiro was playing on the sill and nothing bad happened.

The garbage was rotting in the bags left on the street in the hot summer day, bringing an unpleasant odor through the village for the whole following week. Big, fat flies were circling around these bags, but crows dragged their contents all around the town.

When next Monday came, a new garbage truck with a new driver entered the village. It was raining that day, and Ichiro’s window was closed; he wasn’t on the sill. After that, nothing happened with the boy anymore. The time had regained its normal flow for him. It had ended. I’d stopped it.

However, I wasn’t really happy about this because the poor driver of the garbage truck had died. I know that he wasn’t the most polite person calling me the crazy girl, but still… He didn’t deserve to die. Who was I to play with someone’s fate like some kind of God?

After this event, I didn’t try to interfere with the things happening here anymore. What if my doings would cause some bigger scale cataclysm? I can’t be sure about anything.

Now I just observe the nature of the true evil in this place. I try to find some clues, some parallels to stop the curse, to save everyone, but for now, I haven’t got anything. I just now that I’ll never give up.

Author: Sebastian Winter

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