Tokyo Exorcism Diary

After that prison visit, Takatsu Yu spent the rest of his afternoon operating the sewing machine, his mind restless and uneasy.

Japanese prisons are renowned for their generous treatment. It’s no wonder so many elderly individuals commit petty crimes and turn themselves in to spend their twilight years behind bars.

The end of the afternoon work shift in prison coincides roughly with the time high school students finish their classes. From then until dinner, inmates generally have free time to themselves.

Most of the other prisoners would gather to chat or play cards during this period. However, the isolated Takatsu Yu would usually remain in his room.

Indeed, the living conditions in Japanese prisons are high-quality. As long as you aren’t some heinous criminal, you might even be entitled to your own private room. Returning to his dorm-like cell, Takatsu Yu collapsed onto his bed, his body limp. His mind kept replaying that visit earlier in the afternoon, haunted by the fear that his sentence might be extended.

Just as he lay down, he noticed something fall out of the pocket of his prison-issue jacket.

Sitting up in confusion, he turned to look. It was an iPhone. He didn’t recognize the model, but it looked advanced—likely a newer release that came out after he was incarcerated.

Seeing this phone, which should not have been in his pocket, his first emotion wasn’t confusion but exhilaration.

A phone! Only God knows how bored and lonely he’d been over these past few years in prison! With a phone, he could go online, read manga, enjoy light novels, play games, or even—watch certain films.

Takatsu Yu didn’t bother to question how the phone got there. Like an addict spotting his drug of choice, he eagerly grabbed it, hoping it still had a charge and no lock screen password.

His hands trembled slightly as he found the power button and pressed it. The screen lit up.

But what greeted him made his heart skip a beat: the lock screen wallpaper was an eerie image of a ghostly woman. She wore a blood-red Lolita dress, her pale complexion as lifeless as a corpse, her head lowered.

Takatsu Yu cursed inwardly. What kind of twisted taste do people have these days? Who sets something so terrifying as their wallpaper?

He swiped at the screen, hoping to bypass the lock screen.

But nothing happened. There was no prompt for a password, either.

Thinking the screen might not have detected his touch, he stubbornly tried again, swiping in every possible direction. Yet still, the screen remained unresponsive… No, not entirely unresponsive.

Takatsu Yu suddenly noticed something chilling. The ghostly figure in the wallpaper had lifted her head.

Goosebumps spread across his arms as he unconsciously held his breath.

Cold sweat beaded on Takatsu Yu’s forehead as the ghost in the wallpaper fully raised her head. Her ghastly pale face was streaked with blood tears, and her crimson eyes brimmed with venomous hatred.

Though the face had changed dramatically from the vibrant one he once knew, Takatsu Yu recognized it instantly. Over the years, he had thought of that girl endlessly, her image etched deeply into his mind. He could never forget that face.

But now, confronted with her visage again, all he felt was an uncontrollable surge of terror.

“AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!”

The scream was a primal reflex, triggered when fear reaches its peak. It’s the body’s desperate attempt to release the pressure caused by a surge of adrenaline.

As soon as the scream left his throat, Takatsu Yu hurled the phone as hard as he could.

The device flew through the air, struck the wall, and fell to the ground.

Gasping for breath, Takatsu Yu tried to calm himself, convincing himself it was all just a coincidence. Perhaps it was just someone else with a similar face. Maybe the lock screen was a dynamic wallpaper, deliberately designed to be creepy. It could be a prank—those bastards in the prison might have planted this phone on him as a joke. Yes, that had to be it. A broken phone with a creepy wallpaper!

But all his self-reassuring thoughts were obliterated in the next moment.

From the phone lying on the floor, a pale, skeletal hand emerged, pressing against the ground. Slowly, a contorted figure began crawling out of the small screen.

Paralyzed by fear, Takatsu Yu scrambled backward on all fours, his mind completely blank as the twisted silhouette finally freed itself from the device.

Standing before him, the figure—Chi-chan—hung her head, her crimson eyes peering through her disheveled bangs at the utterly petrified man.

Takatsu Yu trembled uncontrollably, unable to utter a sound. His fear had robbed him of his voice and control over his own body. A damp warmth spread beneath him, and even his cheeks felt sticky and wet.

Still, he dared not move a muscle. In his blurry vision, a wave of crimson filled his sight, and his body went limp. Before his consciousness plunged into darkness, he glimpsed his own face reflected in the tarnished floor tiles.

Blood was streaming from his eyes and nose, completely covering his face.

With a dull thud, Takatsu Yu’s head hit the floor, his eyes still wide open, but his body utterly lifeless.

The room fell into dead silence. Chi-chan’s form dissolved into a cascade of static, vanishing back into the phone. Moments later, the talisman on the back of the phone ignited, flames engulfing the device. When the fire died down, the phone had turned to ashes, leaving no trace behind.

…

That evening, dinner at the Shimizu household was quite the feast. Shimizu Yuu’s father, Shimizu Yuuji, had invited a coworker over for a meal.

Her mother was busy in the kitchen, while two middle-aged men sat at the dining table, toasting and exchanging pleasantries. The table was full of delicious food, most of which ended up being consumed by Shimizu Yuu, who sat off to the side.

Just as Shimizu Yuu was eating with gusto, her mouth covered in oil and thoroughly enjoying herself, her father’s colleague’s phone suddenly rang.

It had nothing to do with Shimizu Yuu, of course. But after answering the call, when Shimizu Yuu’s father asked what it was about, the man’s reply caused Shimizu Yuu to drop the piece of crab meat she was holding.

“Over in Higashi-Ikebukuro, someone at Kurasu Prison died—an inmate. Apparently, his cardiovascular system ruptured. The medical report says he was scared to death.”

From that point on, Shimizu Yuu couldn’t hear a word her father and his coworker were saying. Mechanically, she placed her empty chopsticks in her mouth, her teeth clicking together as she chewed on air.

Her mind was blank except for one lingering question:

Was it that guy’s doing?