お化け屋敷に光る目

Used to the iron door of my apartment, I find the light *kara kara* sound of the sliding door to have a fresh ring to it.

With a darkened wooden frame, and polished glass, it has quite an aged feel.

Regardless, a light *kara kara*... did someone come here to clean or maintain it?

That's strange. It was supposed to be left alone all this time------ wait a minute, wait.

I checked the knob, by force of habit, and I haven't unlocked the door yet.

............

I slowly peek into the entrance hall.

I cower back.

Without thinking, my palm opens.

The flashlight once held there falls, and casts its light in a wild direction.

Those screams you see in movies and dramas are all made up, after all. No loud voice is going to come out unless you've saved up a lot of air.

What's more, my body shriveled up. If anything, the air was sucked in, instead.

For some reason, I choke. Tears swell. There's something there, and this isn't helping at all!

I have to run... I have to run------

While my back rears up, my feet remain still.

But, I can hear the footsteps clearly.

No, that's not it. Calm down. Those aren't my footsteps.

In other words... there's really... something there?

The footsteps... already... so close------

Peeking out, looking young enough to call a child, the face of...... probably, a girl.

Cutting off the flashlight's beam, a long, white animal rushes to her feet.

......a cat...... maybe?

If those were the eyes shining before, then that's good enough for me.

There we go. As if there'd be anything like ghosts.

Somehow my strength floods out without warning, and I collapse in that very spot.

*furi furi* I wave my hands dismissively, a forced smile on my face.

This is what you call "seeing the ghost for the wilted Obana that it is." Aha, kidding! (TN: It's a phrase that generally means "once you know what's scaring you, it isn't scary anymore." Obana is actually the word for Japanese pampas grass.)