Resort Job
Originally posted by: “Scary Story Submission: Horror Teller” Author: “Anonymous” Posted: August 4, 2009, 18:29
Let me start by saying this — this story is absurdly long.
And to make matters worse, it’s not even that great.
So unless you’re truly bored out of your mind, turn back now.
You’ve been warned. So here goes.
This happened when I was a third-year university student.
Summer break was just around the corner, and five of us from the same college group decided to take a trip to the beach.
While we were still in the planning stage, one of my friends said, “Hey, why not pick up a job there while we’re at it?”
I didn’t have any particular plans for the break anyway, so I said yes without thinking twice.
Two of the guys had something going on — some kind of seminar training camp, I think — so they were out for the job part.
In the end, three of us decided to work at the beach, while the remaining two would just come down as regular tourists and stay at the inn where we’d be working.
So, first things first—we needed to find a place to work.
The three of us split up and started looking around.
We searched online, and to our surprise, there were tons of places hiring.
Many of them even said “friends welcome”, which was perfect for us.
Eventually, we picked one inn to apply to.
Naturally, it was near a beach that was famous for being a major pick-up spot. We weren’t gonna miss that detail.
We called and applied for the job, and the whole thing went ridiculously smoothly.
Even when we asked if a couple of our friends could join us for two days in the middle of our shift,
the innkeeper just said, “Then you’ll just have to work extra hard to make up for it,” and agreed without hesitation.
With the plan mostly locked in, we were so hyped that, for some reason, we headed straight to a local sentō spa.
After that, we gathered at a friend’s apartment, fresh-faced and squeaky clean from the bath,
and started carefully planning out what moves to make if we actually succeeded in picking someone up.
And then the day came—the three of us (me included) set off for the inn.
It was our first time doing a resort job, so I was full of nerves, excitement, and a weird little buzz of anticipation.
When we arrived at the inn, we found it was a fairly spacious, two-story minshuku—a traditional Japanese guesthouse.
To put it simply, it felt like visiting your grandma’s house out in the countryside.
Sure, the sign said “○○ Ryokan,” but honestly, it felt more like a place that should’ve been called “○○-so.”[*]
We called out at the entrance, and a young woman came out from inside, smiling warmly to greet us.
My excitement shot up right then and there.
Inside, the layout was simple: four guest rooms, one large dining area where everyone ate together, and two staff rooms for live-in workers—seven rooms in total.
They had us wait in the common room at first.
After a short while, the young woman brought us some barley tea.
Her name was Misaki-chan. She’d grown up nearby and had that easygoing local vibe.
With her came the okami-san (innkeeper), a woman named Makiko.
She was big-hearted, full of laughter, and just radiated kindness. Honestly, if she were a bit younger, I might’ve fallen for her.
Her husband was there too, and the six of us—including the three of us from college—would be running this inn together.
After we finished introducing ourselves, the okami-san (the innkeeper) said:
“The guest rooms are down that hallway to the right, at the end—two on each side.
Your sleeping quarters are at the end of the left hallway.
I’ll explain more after you’ve settled in, so for now, go ahead and relax.”
Then one of my friends—let’s call them A and B—asked a question that had been bugging him.
A: “Aren’t the guest rooms upstairs?”
The innkeeper answered with a smile.
“Nope. We’re not using the second floor right now.”
We just figured it was because it wasn’t peak season yet or something.
Didn’t really think too hard about it. We assumed they’d open it up later when more guests came.
We brought our stuff to our room, looked out at the view, and just felt instantly at peace.
Sure, the job might get tough later—but if we got to spend a whole summer in a place like this, it’d be totally worth it.
Not gonna lie, I was also hoping for a little summer aventure romantique.
And with that, our life as summer resort workers began.
There were plenty of tough moments, sure—but everyone was so nice that it never really felt like a burden.
In the end, it’s all about the people you work with, right?
About a week in, one of my friends said:
A: “Man, we really scored with this job, didn’t we?”
B: “Yeah, and we’re getting paid a ton too.”
While they were chatting, I chimed in:
Me: “True. But isn’t the busy season starting soon? Things are gonna get hectic.”
A: “Hey, once peak season starts, are they gonna open up the second floor?”
B: “Nah, probably not. Isn’t that where the innkeeper and her husband live?”
Me and A (in unison): “Wait, really?”
B: “I mean, I don’t know for sure. But haven’t you seen the okami-san bringing food upstairs a lot lately?”
A: “Nope.”
Me: “Can’t say I have.”
Apparently, B had the evening task of sweeping the front entrance,
and he often saw the okami-san carrying meals on a tray,
disappearing quickly up the stairs to the second floor.
We all just kind of nodded, like “Oh, huh,” and “Makes sense,”
without thinking much of it. No red flags. Nothing felt out of place.
A few days later, I was cleaning the hallway like usual…
when I saw something I wasn’t supposed to.
It was the okami-san—sneaking out of one of the guest rooms.
That might not sound strange at first, but here’s the thing:
the okami-san almost never did room cleaning.
That was entirely Misaki-chan’s job.
Which made it all the more suspicious.
At first, I thought I must’ve been seeing things.
But no—it was definitely her.
The whole day, the image stuck in my head, gnawing at me.
In the end, I couldn’t keep it to myself, so I told my friends.
And then A said:
A: “Dude, I’ve seen that too.”
Me: “Wait, are you serious? Why didn’t you say anything?!”
B: “Well, I haven’t seen it.”
Me: “Then shut up.”
A: “I just figured she had some reason for it.
Besides, I didn’t want to say anything and make things awkward between us.”
Me: “…Yeah, I get that.”
At that point, we still had almost a whole month left of our job.
So we sat down to talk:
Should we pretend we didn’t see anything?
Or should we try to figure out what was going on?
Then B came up with an idea:
B: “Why don’t we just follow her? See where she’s going.”
A: “Follow her? Dude, how? This place is tiny—she’s definitely gonna notice.”
B: “Yeah, well...”
Me: “Why’d you even bring it up then?”
All three of us: “...”
Even with the three of us thinking it over, we weren’t getting anywhere.
The two friends who weren’t working were supposed to come visit next week,
and honestly, we figured—if nothing weird happened, we’d probably just have a good time.
But still. We were guys. A trio.
That dumb little sense of adventure kicked in.
So we made a pact:
“If any of us sees something suspicious, we report it.”
And with that, we went to bed quietly that night.
B: “Yeah, well...”
Me: “Why’d you even bring it up then?”
All three of us: “...”
Even with the three of us thinking it over, we weren’t getting anywhere.
The two friends who weren’t working were supposed to come visit next week,
and honestly, we figured—if nothing weird happened, we’d probably just have a good time.
But still. We were guys. A trio.
That dumb little sense of adventure kicked in.
So we made a pact:
“If any of us sees something suspicious, we report it.”
And with that, we went to bed quietly that night.
The next night, B suddenly called the rest of us over in the most obviously fake way—
even though we were all already in the same room.
I remember thinking, Why don’t you just come here?
But whatever. We gathered around him.
B: “So, remember how I said the okami-san always goes upstairs?
Well, I watched her all the way this time.
I’d only ever seen her go up the stairs before,
but last night I waited until she came back down.
And get this—she came back down after just five minutes.”
A: “Okay… and?”
B: “She always eats with us, right?
So if she’s carrying a meal upstairs,
that must mean someone else is living up there, yeah?”
Me: “Yeah… that makes sense.”
B: “But none of us have ever seen anyone like that.
And no one’s ever even mentioned it.”
A: “It’s definitely weird, but… maybe it’s someone who’s sick or something?”
B: “Exactly. I thought of that too.
But who finishes a full meal in five minutes?
That’s gotta be someone pretty healthy, right?”
A: “I mean, I don’t know if that’s really enough to go on…”
B: “Still, it’s suspicious, right?
You guys said we should report anything weird—so I did.”
He had that smug little tone at the end,
which annoyed both me and A a bit—but we let it go.
Because, well… he had a point.
There was definitely something eerie about it.
What was on the second floor?
All of us had that thought stuck in our heads.
The next day, A and I finished up our usual chores early
and met up with B by the front entrance.
We waited for the okami-san to appear.
After a little while, she came out carrying a tray of food.
She opened the door leading to the stairs and disappeared toward the back.
Let me explain something here—
the stairs to the second floor weren’t inside the building.
They were outside, accessible only through a separate door near the entrance.
As far as we could tell, there were no stairs inside the inn that led to the second floor.
You had to step out the front door,
walk along the outer wall,
turn a corner,
and there, on that wall, was a door.
Open that, and there were the stairs going up.
(Sorry if that’s a little hard to picture.)
Just like B said, about five minutes later the okami-san came back down.
The tray she was carrying was now empty.
She went back inside the inn without even noticing us.
B: “See? Told you—it’s fast, right?”
Me: “Yeah… that was pretty quick.”
A: “What do you think’s up there?”
B: “No idea. Wanna go find out?”
A: “Honestly, I’m, like, seriously freaked out right now.”
B: “Same here, actually.”
Me: “Let’s just check it out.”
So, the three of us headed over to the door that led to the stairs.
A: “Is it even unlocked?”
While A was still voicing his concern,
I grabbed the doorknob—and it turned without resistance.
Click.
The door opened just a few centimeters.
From where B was standing on the far left,
he could just barely peek inside when—
B: “Ugh—”
B scrunched up his face and pinched his nose.
A: “What’s wrong?”
B: “Don’t you smell that?”
Neither A nor I noticed anything unusual,
but B was clearly reacting to some kind of stench.
A: “Are you messing with us?”
He was already on edge,
so B’s sudden reaction must’ve ticked him off.
But B was dead serious.
B: “No, I’m serious. You really don’t smell it?
Open the door a bit more and you’ll see.”
I steeled myself—and pulled the door wide open.
A wave of warm air billowed out from inside,
stirring up a cloud of dust.
Me: “You mean this… musty, dusty smell?”
B: “Huh? Weird. It’s gone now.”
A: “Dude, don’t screw around like that.
I swear, if something goes down, I’m leaving you behind.
Just made up my mind.”
He was clearly freaked out, and it was coming out as snark.
B: “Okay, okay, sorry.
But seriously, there was a smell.
Like… rotten garbage or something.”
A: “Just drop it. You probably imagined it.”
While those two bickered,
I noticed something else.
The hallway ahead was incredibly narrow—
just wide enough for one person to walk through at a time.
There didn’t seem to be any kind of light switch.
The only illumination came from outside,
barely enough to see the top of the stairs.
At the end of the staircase, there was another door.
Me: “If we go up there, it’s gotta be one person at a time.”
A: “No no no—nobody’s going up there.”
B: “Wait, we’re not?”
A: “If you want to go, be my guest. I’m not.”
B: “Yeah, same. I’m out.”
A gave B a little shove.
Me: “So we’re just not doing it?
Fine. I’ll go.”
A & B: “You’re serious?!”
Me: “I’m the kind of guy who can’t sleep when something’s bugging me.
I’d end up sneaking back here alone at midnight.
And that is, like, the textbook horror movie death flag.
So better I just go now.”
It was a weird reason, yeah.
But knowing my own curiosity,
I figured it was better to check it out now while A and B were still around.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t scared, though.
I totally was.
So we made a deal:
If anything really bad happened, they wouldn’t leave me behind.
They’d run and get help immediately.
But if nothing happened,
they weren’t allowed to suddenly yell or make loud noises.
Because if they did,
well—my life wouldn’t be their responsibility anymore.
And so, I slowly began to climb the stairs alone.
The stairwell was dim, lit only faintly by the light coming in from outside.
I took each step carefully, one at a time.
That’s when I started hearing it:
Crack… crack…
I froze. What the hell was that?
I turned around, suddenly scared, and looked back at the other two.
They didn’t seem to hear anything.
They were just standing there, watching me,
both giving a thumbs-up.
“All clear.” That’s what it meant.
I gave them a slight nod, turned back toward the second floor,
and tried to convince myself:
It’s just the old wood creaking.
Happens all the time in places like this.
As I climbed higher—beyond where the light from the entrance reached—
the balance between my curiosity and fear started to tip.
I was really beginning to want to turn back.
And then I started seeing things.
In the darkness at the top of the stairs…
Was there something standing in front of the door?
Maybe.
That maybe thought started taking over—
all the possibilities your mind makes up in the dark.
Crack, crack, crack!
The sound got louder.
It even felt like I was stepping on something.
Bugs? I thought.
A shiver ran down my spine.
But nothing seemed to move.
Too dark to see.
I must’ve looked back half a dozen times.
At some point, maybe because of the backlight,
the two figures below started to blur into shadowy outlines.
But…
their thumbs were still firmly raised.
And finally—when I reached the landing at the top of the stairs,
a wave of stench slammed into my nose.
Me: “Ugh—”
It was the exact same reaction B had earlier.
The smell was awful.
Like rotting garbage mixed with sewage.
It hit me hard and fast.
What the hell? What is this?
I looked around, panicking.
And that’s when I saw it.
Piled high in the corner of the landing,
just beside the door,
was a huge heap of old food.
Rotting food.
Covered in buzzing flies.
That was the source of the smell—no doubt.
I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed it sooner.
It was everywhere.
And just as my brain was short-circuiting from the stench,
I noticed something else.
The door at the end of the hallway—
the one I’d been walking toward—
was sealed shut.
Wooden boards, like thin plywood, had been nailed across it in all directions.
Dozens of nails.
And over that, pasted all over the surface,
were paper talismans—ofuda.[*]
[*] Ofuda（お札）: Shinto or Buddhist paper charms or seals, usually used for protection or to seal off evil spirits. In horror stories, they often signify something is being locked in or kept out.
Not just that—
there were long, thin ropes wrapped around the nails,
crisscrossing the door like a spiderweb.
It was the first time in my life I’d seen real ofuda.
I can’t be 100% sure that’s what they were,
but they definitely weren’t stickers or posters.
No question—
whatever this was, it was meant to seal something in.
That was the moment I realized—
I had made a terrible mistake coming up here.
I turned to go.
My only thought was: Get the hell out of here.
And then—
from right behind me, I heard it.
Scritch scritch scritch scritch scritch scritch scritch scritch—
That horrible sound, again and again.
Something was clawing at the door from the other side.
Then came the breathing.
Hhhew… hh-hhew…
Uneven, raspy gasps.
At that moment, I truly thought my heart might stop.
Is someone there? Who? Who the hell is that?!
Looking back on it now,
I think my reaction went beyond anything you'd see from a side character in a horror movie.
I should’ve just walked away.
Just turned around and gone.
But no one actually does that—not in real life.
I didn’t have the courage to keep walking.
But I didn’t have the courage to turn around either.
So I just froze.
Totally paralyzed.
Only my eyes moved, darting around wildly.
Cold sweat soaked my back.
The sounds continued:
Scritch scritch scritch scritch scritch—
Hhhew… hh-hhew…
I tried desperately to force my legs to move—
to break out of that frozen panic.
And just then,
the sound stopped.
Complete silence.
It was only for a second—
less than the blink of an eye.
Then—
BANG!
A loud slam from behind me.
And right after—
Scritch scritch scritch scritch scritch—
It started all over again.
I couldn’t believe it—
but now the sound was coming from directly above me.
From the ceiling.
Just seconds ago, it had been on the other side of the door.
And now, somehow, it had moved straight overhead.
My legs started shaking uncontrollably.
I thought I was done for.
Inside, I was screaming—over and over—
Help me. Please, someone help me.
And then—
just for a split second—
something moved at the edge of my vision.
At that point, anything moving felt like a threat.
I hesitated hard.
Should I look? Should I not?
But I forced myself to turn my head.
It was A and B.
They were at the bottom of the stairs, yelling something and waving frantically.
Suddenly, I could hear them clearly.
A: “Hey! Get down here, NOW!!”
B: “Are you okay?!”
That was all it took.
The paralysis vanished, and I snapped back to myself.
I bolted—racing down the stairs as fast as I could.
Later, they told me I came down with my eyes closed the entire time,
skipping steps and practically flying.
I don’t remember much of that part.
They said I ran right past them without stopping,
straight back to our room—
like I was desperate just to reach somewhere, anywhere, safe.
That whole stretch is a blur for me.
Maybe because my mind was overflowing with fear.
That moment took up all the space.
A: “Hey… are you okay?”
B: “What happened up there? Did you see something?”
I couldn’t answer.
Or rather, I didn’t want to answer.
That sound… it was still echoing in my ears,
and just thinking about it made fear tighten in my chest.
Then A asked me something—
carefully, cautiously.
A: “What were you eating up there?”
I didn’t understand what he meant.
So I asked him to repeat it.
That’s when A said something that chilled me to the bone.
A: “When you got to the top, you crouched down, right?
B and I were squinting to see what you were doing…
and it looked like… you were eating something.
Like—really stuffing it into your mouth.”
B: “Yeah… and the thing is…”
They both turned their eyes toward my chest.
Confused, I looked down—
and froze.
My shirt was covered in filth.
Rotting sludge stuck to the fabric,
and from it came a stomach-turning stench—
like decayed food.
I bolted to the bathroom,
collapsed at the toilet,
and emptied everything in my stomach.
I had no idea what was happening to me.
I remembered what happened upstairs.
I remembered the fear—clearly.
At no point did I crouch down.
And there’s no way I would have put that rotting food anywhere near my mouth.
But still…
my clothes were stained with it.
And when I looked closer, there were traces of it on my hands—
as if I had grabbed it myself.
I felt like I was about to lose my mind.
A and B came to check on me, concern all over their faces.
A: “Please tell us what happened.
You’re… not okay right now.”
I was terrified.
But holding it all in alone felt worse.
So I told them—
step by step—everything I’d experienced at the top of the stairs.
A and B listened the whole way through,
nodding, taking me seriously,
even though what I described didn’t match what they had seen.
Not once did they laugh or interrupt.
They just listened.
That alone…
made me feel like I could finally breathe again.
I nearly cried from the relief.
As I started to calm down,
I noticed something strange—
my legs were stinging.
Confused, I looked down.
The soles of my feet and my knees were covered in tiny cuts.
Tons of them.
Looking closer, I realized something strange.
There were tiny fragments stuck to my skin—
like small pieces of plastic.
Some were red.
Some were a pale, off-white color with a dark tint.
As I stared at them, trying to figure out what they were,
B leaned over.
B: “What’s that?”
He picked one of the fragments up and looked at it in the light.
And then—
B: “Hh—!”
He flinched and threw it down immediately.
That startled both A and me.
We jerked back instinctively.
A: “What the hell, man?!”
B: “Look closer.”
A: “Just tell me! You’re freaking me out!”
B: “I… I think it’s a nail.
Like, a fingernail.”
In that instant, all three of us froze.
A, B, and Me: “…”
Right then—
right there—
as fear pressed down on me like a weight,
my brain, somehow, calmly replayed that sound from earlier.
That awful, scratching sound.
And it hit me.
It was nails.
Something was scratching that door with its nails…
I don’t know why that thought came to me so clearly.
But looking back, it all sort of… lined up.
As horrible as it was,
it made a terrible kind of sense.
That crack crack sound I heard while climbing the stairs…
That weird feeling of stepping on something…
Maybe it was the nails.
Maybe I’d been stepping on broken fingernails scattered all over the floor.
And maybe those nails belonged to whatever had been
clawing at the door from the other side of the wall.
That would explain the injuries too—
kneeling down in that mess of rotting food,
running down the stairs in blind panic—
I must’ve scraped myself up on the scattered nail shards.
But honestly…
at that point, none of that mattered anymore.
What mattered was this:
We couldn’t stay here.
I looked at A and B.
Me: “There’s no way I can keep working here.”
A: “Yeah. I know.”
B: “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
Me: “Tomorrow, we tell the okami-san we’re quitting.”
A: “You’re actually gonna tell her?”
Me: “We have to.
She took us in, fed us—we owe her that much, at least.
We should say something.”
B: “But she’s like the top suspect in all this, right?
You seriously wanna see her face when we say we went upstairs?”
Me: “Idiot. I’m not gonna tell her that.
We’ll just quit—normally.”
A: “Yeah… that’s probably the safest bet.”
So that was that.
That very night, we packed up our things.
I know it sounds pathetic—three guys and all—
but we were so freaked out, we pushed two futons together
and forced ourselves to sleep side by side.
Like a pack of sardines.
Not a single one of us snored.
Not a single breath sounded at ease.
We just… laid there.
Huddled in silence.
Waiting for morning to come.
The next morning came quietly.
None of us really said much—if anything at all.
In the stillness, my phone alarm suddenly went off.
It was the usual time we’d set to wake up.
B flinched hard, his whole body jolting.
You could tell he was still really shaken up.
The night before, B had said something to me—
because he’s just that kind of guy. Kind at his core.
B: “I’m sorry.
You definitely had it way worse than I did.
But even so, I freaked out.
I didn’t help you. I didn’t go up there.
I’m really sorry.”
That alone…
was enough to make my chest tighten and my eyes burn.
But then a strange thought popped into my head:
“Worse than I did”?
I was the one who experienced it all.
A and B just watched from below.
So what exactly did he mean?
Was it the way I ran down the stairs?
Did I look that messed up?
Or was it just the story itself—what I told them later?
I thought about it for a moment…
and then I realized—
I was just drowning in fear.
Everything people said felt too sharp, too heavy.
I was reading too much into it.
So instead, I focused on something else—
something simple, something real:
Let’s just go home.
Let’s spend the rest of summer relaxing, all of us together.
That was all I wanted now.
But after that…
B's behavior got worse.
Way worse.
He flinched at every little sound we made.
He kept staring—fixated—at the cuts on my legs.
It was obvious something wasn’t right.
A noticed too.
Even though he was clearly a little scared himself, he was still worried.
A: “Hey, you okay?
Is your head messed up from not sleeping or something?”
He reached out and gently grabbed B’s shoulder.
And that’s when B suddenly snapped.
B: “Shut the hell up!!”
He shouted and violently shook off A’s hand.
Both A and I froze.
Me: “Whoa, what the hell was that?!”
A looked shocked—so much so that he couldn’t even speak.
B: “You’re asking if I’m okay?!
Do you really think I’m okay?!
Me and ○○ nearly died up there, man!
You don’t know shit, so don’t pretend like you care!!”
He was yelling—eyes locked on A in fury.
And I just…
didn’t understand.
What was he talking about?
B nearly died?
I was the one who went up the stairs.
B just listened to my story.
He was terrified by what he heard, wasn’t he?
A and B were always tight—
the closest pair in our group.
They’d joke around all the time.
A teased, and B always played along.
He never got mad.
I don’t think A had ever seen B like that.
And neither had I.
A was panicking—worse than I’d ever seen him.
I turned to B, something bothering me deep in my gut.
Me: “What do you mean, you ‘nearly died’?
You were down there the whole time.”
B: “Yeah.
I was.
I watched the whole thing from below.”
He paused.
Then looked down—
and said something that made my skin crawl.
B: “I’m still watching it now.”
Me: “…”
Now?
What do you mean now?
None of it made any sense.
The only thing I could think was—
maybe B had lost his mind.
Maybe something had gotten to him.
Possessed him, even.
But before I could say anything,
he started speaking again.
His voice was shaking,
but his words were clear—like he had to say them.
B: “I was down there the whole time, yeah.
But I was watching.
Watching everything.”
Me: “You mean… you were watching me go up, right?”
B: “That’s not it…
At first, yeah. That’s what I saw.
But once you reached the top…
I started seeing something else.”
Me: “…Right.”
Honestly, at that point,
most of me didn’t even want to hear it.
But B's expression…
he looked just like I had the night before.
Like he couldn’t hold it in anymore.
Like he needed someone else to carry this with him.
Back then—
when I had told A and B everything,
and they’d listened to me all the way to the end…
I couldn’t even begin to explain how much that had helped me.
How much it had saved me.
And now…
it felt like I owed B the same thing.
I had to hear him out.
Me: “What did you see?”
B: “…”
He went quiet again, just for a moment—
then spoke, like he’d made up his mind.
B: “A shadow.
I think it was a shadow.”
Me: “A shadow?”
B: “Yeah.
At first I thought it was just yours.
That made sense.
But even while you were crouched down… eating that food…
the shadow kept moving.
I saw your shadow shrink as you crouched—
and A and I had shadows at our feet too.
So whatever else I saw—
it wasn’t ours.
There were others.
Three… maybe four shadows.
Moving around.”
A wave of goosebumps exploded across my entire body.
God, please let him be joking.
But one look at B's face told me—
there was no way.
There was no humor there.
No exaggeration.
If I so much as suggested he was joking,
I honestly thought he might punch me in the face.
That’s how serious he looked.
Me: “I was the only one up there.”
B: “I know.”
Me: “And anyway, that space…
there’s no way four or five people could fit up there and move around.
The stairway’s barely wide enough for one person.”
B: “They weren’t people.
You get that, right?”
Me: “…”
B: “There’s no way they could’ve been human.”
He muttered it quietly.
Me: “What do you mean?”
B: “They were all stuck to the walls.”
Me: “…What?”
B: “Like spiders.
Clinging to the side walls… and the ceiling.
Crawling.
Slow and twitchy, and—”
He broke off, breathing hard.
Just remembering it was messing him up.
Me: “Hey—breathe.
Come on. Deep breaths.
You’re okay. We’re all here.”
After a while, he started to calm down.
And then he kept going.
B: “They weren’t human.
I mean… they weren’t ever human.
And their shape… it wasn’t right.
No—it was shaped like a person, but it wasn’t a person.”
And somehow,
I understood what he meant.
I asked quietly—
Me: “So… it was something shaped like a human,
but it was clinging to the wall?”
B just nodded silently.
My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might explode from my chest.
In that instant, I realized—
what B saw probably wasn’t a shadow at all.
Shadows don’t crawl sideways on walls.
They don’t scuttle across ceilings.
And even if they were shadows—
something had to be casting them.
Even I could figure that much out.
Which meant…
There had been something crawling all around me.
Right next to me.
And I had no idea.
While I was down on the floor—
eating that pile of rotting leftovers like an animal—
they were all around me.
The sound…
That awful scratching noise—
It wasn’t coming from behind the door or wall.
It was right next to me.
So was the breathing.
The wheezing, unnatural breath…
It had been right there.
The realization made my head spin with fear.
And maybe sensing how far gone I was,
B turned to A, and quietly said—
B: “Hey… I’m sorry.
For before. I lost it.”
A: “No, it’s okay.
Really. I’m sorry too.”
He answered right away, without hesitation.
After that, things were kind of awkward.
No one really knew what to say.
I focused all my energy on staying calm,
taking deep breaths over and over—pointlessly, but I couldn’t stop.
Then A spoke.
A: “Hey… earlier, you said you were still seeing it…”
But B cut him off before he could finish.
B: “Oh—sorry.
That was just me being messed up.
I was kind of out of it, you know?
Haha… sorry.
I’m fine now.”
He smiled as he said it.
But it was completely fake.
That kind of forced smile that doesn’t reach the eyes—
and B's eyes weren’t even focused on us.
It was like he was looking somewhere else entirely.
This might sound like a weird thing to mention,
but I still remember it clear as day:
The muscle under B’s eye was twitching.
Just a little tic.
I know—it happens to people sometimes, right?
But when someone’s forcing a smile and their eye is twitching like that—
Man, it hits different.
It really hits different.
Anyway—
A and I didn’t ask anything more.
Call us cowards if you want.
But we just couldn’t.
Think about it—
after everything B had just told us,
if he still chose not to say something…
Then whatever it was,
it had to be the kind of thing that would break us.
If I heard it,
my heart might actually shatter.
I might lose my damn mind.
After a few seconds of silence,
we heard Misaki-chan calling from the dining hall.
It was time for breakfast.
Apparently, we’d been talking for quite a while.
None of us had any appetite, obviously.
But we didn’t want to draw attention.
We had no choice but to go.
I slowly stood up and said:
Me: “Sooner’s better, right?
Let’s tell her after breakfast.”
A: “Yeah.”
B: “I’ll pass on food.
Hey A, you brought your laptop, right?
Can I borrow it for a bit?”
A: “Sure, but… you should eat something.”
B: “There’s just something I want to look up.
Not much time left, and… sorry, but can you two go without me?”
Me: “Got it.
I’ll ask Misaki-chan to make you some rice balls or something.”
B: “Thanks, man.”
A: “The laptop’s in my bag.
Feel free to use it. Internet’s connected too.”
And with that, the two of us headed to the dining hall.
Looking back now,
it’s kind of ridiculous, right?
Eating breakfast the same day we were quitting?
If I saw someone else do that,
I’d absolutely call them out on it.
But there we were,
just… eating.
Like it was any other day.
When we got to the dining hall,
the okami-san looked up at us.
Then she looked down—
at my feet.
And with a bright, beaming smile, she said—
Okami: “Good morning.
Did you sleep well?”
She hadn’t said anything like that since the first day.
And after everything that happened yesterday,
those words felt deeply unsettling.
I froze on the spot, stiff as a board.
Then A answered—
A: “Yes. Sorry we’re late.”
As he spoke, he gave me a firm smack on the back.
That snap jolted me back into motion.
Honestly, I was shocked.
A had always been the most easily scared out of all of us,
and here he was—helping me get a grip.
We explained that B wasn’t feeling well
and was resting in the room,
then asked Misaki-chan if she could make some rice balls for him.
Misaki: “Ah, sure.
But maybe B-kun should just stay in bed today…”
She looked genuinely worried.
A and I didn’t say much.
We just sat down.
We couldn’t exactly tell her, “We’re quitting today.”
As we ate,
the okami-san kept smiling.
And looking straight at me.
The whole time.
I could barely eat.
I’d lift my chopsticks every now and then,
but mostly I just… sat there, frozen.
And she just kept watching me, smiling.
Misaki-chan and the okami’s husband must’ve noticed.
They kept glancing at me, then at her,
clearly picking up on how weird the whole thing was.
And A…
he was just stone silent.
Totally paralyzed.
Feeling completely sick from the whole vibe,
we cut breakfast short.
And then we went to get B,
to finally tell them we were quitting.
On our way back to the room,
we heard B's voice.
He was talking to someone on the phone.
We didn’t want to interrupt,
so we quietly entered the room and sat down,
waiting for him to finish.
B: “Yes, today’s really the only day that works for me.
…Yes, thank you very much!
Okay, okay—I'll be there for sure.
Thank you again.”
He hung up.
Sounded like he had plans—
somewhere to go, right after we got back.
Neither A nor I asked.
We didn’t need to know.
And honestly, we didn’t want to.
We just stood up,
and the three of us headed back to the dining hall together.
When we got back to the dining hall,
Misaki-chan was clearing away the breakfast dishes.
The okami-san was nowhere in sight.
And then it hit me.
What if she’s up there right now?
I remembered the way she’d walked off with that tray of food,
disappearing up the stairs to the second floor.
That tray was probably added to the same pile of leftovers I saw—
just dumped right on top.
And she must’ve done that, day after day, over and over again,
until that whole mountain had formed.
But… why?
Why keep feeding whatever’s up there?
The question echoed in my mind.
But almost immediately,
I pushed it away.
Doesn’t matter.
I’m leaving today.
I’ll be done with this place.
I’ll forget.
I have to forget.
I kept telling myself that.
Then A asked Misaki-chan where the okami-san had gone.
A: “Do you know where the innkeeper is?”
Misaki: “She’s probably out watering the flowers.
She’ll be back soon.”
Then she turned to B and said,
with a smile—
Misaki: “B-kun, I’ll have those rice balls ready for you soon, okay?”
She ducked into the kitchen.
And in that moment, I thought—
Ah, Misaki-chan…
If only none of this had happened…
maybe we could’ve had a summer romance or something.
We waited.
For the okami-san to return.
After a little while,
the okami-san came back.
She looked at the three of us—
just sitting there, not working—
and asked, wide-eyed:
Okami: “What’s going on with you boys?”
I took a breath and made up my mind.
Me: “Okami-san,
we’d like to talk to you for a moment, if that’s okay.”
She looked surprised,
but sat down in front of us.
Okami: “What is it? You’ve got such serious faces.”
Me: “I know this is selfish of us,
but… we’d like to quit today.
All three of us.”
Right after me,
A and B lowered their heads and said:
A & B: “Please.”
The okami-san didn’t say anything at first.
No reaction.
No change in her expression.
Nothing.
That silence—
it was terrifying.
She didn’t even blink.
Didn’t raise an eyebrow.
It was like… she had been expecting this.
And then, after a pause,
she smiled and said—
Okami: “I see.
Alright, alright.
Honestly… you boys really are hopeless.”
She started talking right away—
about our pay,
cleaning up the room before we left,
and how to let her know when we were ready to go.
All matter-of-fact.
Just like that, it was done.
It was so easy,
so unexpectedly smooth,
that the three of us actually felt relieved.
But somewhere deep down—
I think all of us had this lingering feeling:
Something about this isn’t right.
Still, the decision had been made—
so we moved quickly.
We’d packed our bags the night before.
All that was left was cleaning the room.
Since we’d started the job,
we’d mostly been out—either playing at the beach after work
or passing out from exhaustion as soon as we got back.
So even with three guys sharing the space,
the room wasn’t all that messy.
After about an hour of cleaning,
it looked pretty good.
We were ready.
So we headed back to the dining hall
to say our goodbyes to the okami-san and the others.
