"Shinchan: The Torment of the Cursed House"
It was supposed to be a new beginning for the Nohara family. The house they had moved into was far from town, old and covered in vines, with walls that creaked like a groaning creature. From the moment they stepped inside, a heavy atmosphere settled over them, as if the house itself was watching their every move.
Strange events began almost immediately. Doors slammed shut on their own. The temperature dropped drastically at night. Every time Misae looked out the window, she swore she saw dark figures standing in the distance, watching the house. Even Himawari, the innocent baby, would stare at the shadows on the wall, her eyes wide with fear.
One night, while everyone was asleep, Shinchan woke to a noise coming from the hallway. A soft, muffled sobbing echoed in the darkness. Curious, he crept out of his room, thinking it was Himawari. But when he stepped into the hall, he saw her crib was empty. Panicking, he rushed to find his parents, only to discover Misae standing in the middle of the living room, staring blankly at the ceiling, whispering incoherently. Her hands trembled, blood dripping from her fingers as she held a large shard of broken glass.
“Mama…?” Shinchan’s voice trembled.
Misae turned slowly, her face pale and her eyes wide with terror, but it wasn’t her anymore. The skin on her face seemed to twitch unnaturally, and her voice came out as a distorted growl, “He’s coming for you.”
Suddenly, she collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Hiroshi ran in, horrified by the sight of his wife lying motionless, clutching the glass. Shinchan and Hiroshi tried to wake her, but she remained in a deep, unresponsive state, muttering the same words over and over again, “He’s coming for you... He’s coming...”
Shaken and Hiroshi decided to explore the basement the next morning. Something was very wrong with this house, and he needed answers. As he dug through the dusty old boxes and rotting wood, he stumbled upon an ancient, weathered book hidden behind a loose brick in the wall. The pages were yellowed, the writing barely legible, but one entry stood out: “The blood of the past shall curse the blood of the future. His debt must be paid in flesh.”**
That night, as the wind howled outside and the house groaned under the pressure of an invisible force, the shadows on the walls seemed to come alive. The dark corners of the house rippled as if something malevolent was crawling out from the very fabric of the walls.
Suddenly, Himawari began to scream, a piercing cry that echoed throughout the house. Hiroshi and Shinchan rushed to her crib, but she was gone. Only her small blanket remained, soaked in blood. The walls of her room were covered in bloody handprints—tiny handprints, as if she had been dragged into the shadows.
Hiroshi began to tremble, realising the truth. The curse wasn't just an ancient tale; it was real, and it wanted them.
Shinchan, now filled with dread, saw something move out of the corner of his eye. A shadowy figure stood in the doorway, its hollow eyes glowing red. It was a twisted, demonic version of Hiroshi’s reflection, a grotesque and deformed figure that grinned with malice.
“I am the darkness you created,” it hissed, its voice a terrifying mix of Hiroshi's own and something ancient. "You owe me... blood."
Misae suddenly awoke, her body jerking violently as if possessed. Her deep and guttural voice bellowed, “It’s your fault! You killed them in your past life! And now, we all suffer!”
The truth hit Hiroshi like a blade. In his past life, he had been a murderer, a brutal man who slaughtered an innocent family in this very house, burning them alive. The curse was his punishment, but now it sought revenge through his current family.
Himawari’s cries echoed again, but this time they were coming from behind the walls, deep and desperate. Shinchan ran towards the noise, his heart pounding, but the walls seemed to close in on him, trapping him inside a nightmarish labyrinth. Blood dripped from the ceiling, soaking the floor as the house shook violently.
Suddenly, Misae’s body snapped into an unnatural position, her bones cracking audibly as the entity fully took over. Her eyes, now black voids, stared into Hiroshi’s soul. “You can’t save them. You can never save them.”
With a sudden, gruesome snap, Misae’s neck twisted, and her body dropped to the floor, lifeless. Hiroshi screamed in horror, but there was no time to grieve. The shadow figure lunged at Shinchan, grabbing him by the throat. The house rumbled violently, and the walls began to bleed even more.
Shinchan, gasping for breath, managed to choke out, “Please, don’t.”
The shadow leaned closer, its breath cold as ice, whispering, “Your father’s sins are your curse.”
In one swift motion, the shadow squeezed harder, and Shinchan’s small body went limp in its grip. The last thing Hiroshi saw before he passed out was his son’s lifeless eyes, staring at him, full of betrayal.
When Hiroshi finally awoke, the house was eerily silent. Misae’s broken body lay motionless, and Shinchan was nowhere to be found. The only trace of him was his favourite toy lying in a pool of blood.
Hiroshi staggered out of the house, broken and alone, haunted by the horrors of that night. The curse had claimed what it wanted, leaving him to live with the torment of knowing he was the cause of his family’s demise.
As he wandered aimlessly, his mind shattered; the last thing he heard was a faint, mocking whisper in the wind: “We’ll be waiting... for you.”
The End