The sound of the giant serpent slithering through the passages seemed to echo all around us. How was anyone supposed to know where the sound was coming from?
“It’s good that we managed to get away for now, but we have to find some way to get past that thing…”
“There must be something we can do…”
Miyaki and I glanced at each other and shook our heads. A wooden bucket sat at our feet, its rope still attached though cut midway. Glancing up, I could see wire mesh covering the ceiling, the gaps packed full of dirt. It was the demolished remains of what had once been a well.
“The god looked like a serpent. But serpent gods are usually connected to beliefs associated with water…”
Why had this monster chosen to inhabit this dried-up well system instead of the marshes? The serpent that was sometimes spotted in the marshlands was likely just a hallucination, transmitted by the villagers’ fears.
“Maybe it’s not a god,” Miyaki spat. “Maybe this is something less savory. The springs aboveground are supposed to be sacred, right? On the other hand, the underground wells are where they throw away impurities.”
An aqueous film clung to the ceiling. The drops of condensation trembled.
“You may be right, Miyaki.”
If this god was formed from impurity, maybe it loathed the sacred water above.
“It was just a random thought.”
“No, think about it. The god never showed itself while the sound of water could be heard. Its face, too. I thought it resembled a Noh mask, but it doesn’t only resemble one. There are actual Noh plays that use that exact mask.”
The protruding cheekbones. The hollow eyes. The lips, slack and parted, as if hungry for air. The damp hair that clung to the forehead.
“It’s a kawazu mask. They’re used to represent spirits that have drowned.”
“Well, that’s grotesque…”
I wasn’t interested in highbrow stuff like Noh and Kyougen, but I had kept Misaki company once while she wrote a paper for a class on traditional arts.
“Maybe the god of fear is afraid of water…”
I scanned the ceiling with my penlight. Where were the droplets coming from? A faint crack ran along a tract of darker earth. As we followed the crack, it grew deeper and wider. I pointed the light toward the ground. The pieces of the broken cell bars could probably be pried free with one hand.
I set the little girl down, entrusting her into Miyaki’s care, and placed my hand on the wooden frame of the cell. As expected, I was able to easily pull free a piece of wood that was about half my height in length.
“It’s a long shot, but it will have to do.”
As I pointed my light toward the ceiling again, another droplet, inky with shadow, fell from the ceiling.
We headed toward the marshlands again. The underground path seemed to meander endlessly, the monotonous dirt walls never changing. I felt like I was starting to go crazy. Without the little girl there to guide us, there was no way we would have been able to tell whether this was the same path we had just walked down. It was amazing to me that a child was able to bear being trapped down here for so long. The girl clung to Miyaki’s arm, suddenly behaving in a way that matched her age. I felt myself growing discouraged.
“How much time do you think has passed while we’ve been down here?”
I illuminated my watch. It had been two and a half hours since we had been tossed underground.
“Do you think someone would have come for us eventually if we had just stayed where we were?”
“I don’t know.”
“Not that I regret it! Who knows what that god might have done to us if we had stayed there? And if we hadn’t gone exploring, we would have never found the girl,” Miyaki said, glancing at the girl and quickly amending herself.
“We’re almost there. There’s a stairway over there where someone comes down to bring me food,” the girl said.
I could see a slightly larger crack in the ceiling where the girl was now pointing. I banged at the brittle earth with the tip of my piece of wood, and a shower of dirt rained down around us. Droplets of water trickled along the piece of wood, coiling around my wrist like a snake.
Shrrrpp.
The sound came out of nowhere. It was loud and very close, like a wad of cotton gauze had just been ripped out of my ear. There, at the far end of the path we had just come by, the shadows moved in coils. The tangled underside of the snake moved like a vortex, the drowned corpse’s face surfacing within.
“Miyaki, take the girl and go!”
I struck the ceiling with my piece of wood as hard as I could. The tip dug in, scattering some of the dirt. Slithering and sliding, the vortex drew closer. I could hear the skittering of countless insects, crawling from beneath the serpent’s underside. I struck the ceiling again. A large chunk of dirt broke off, and a sprinkle of water escaped, moistening the dust.
I could hear wings rubbing together now and the sounds of clammy little feet. The serpent drew nearer and nearer, undulating and overlapping like a misshapen flower as it moved. I beat the ceiling again and again with my flimsy piece of wood. The wood buckled, threatening to break. My panic was making me sweat, causing my hands to slip. The Noh mask seemed to be smiling. Right then, I realized that Miyaki was standing right next to me. I had told her to go ahead.
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
Miyaki didn’t answer; she just stared at the accursed poison god. The serpent came to a stop, as if suddenly intimidated. Whatever was happening, this was our last chance.
I swung the piece of wood into the air again. The tip exploded into splinters as a massive torrent of water exploded from the gash I had just made in the dirt. The god was lost from view in a rush of mud-colored water.
“Run!”
I shoved Miyaki forward by the shoulder, never stopping to look back. Guided by a beam of light from ahead, I soon discovered an old wooden staircase with the girl waiting on one of the steps, the flashlight still in her hands. I scooped her into my arms and quickly trampled up the wooden boards, which seemed ready to collapse beneath our feet. A set of hinged double doors rested above, embedded into the earth.
Just as I was about to try ramming my way through, the doors opened of their own accord. Cool air and expansive moonlight waited for us beyond.
The marshlands reflecting the night sky and the reeds bordering the water sprang into view. But there was no time for relief at finally being outside again. A human figure was standing in our way, ensconced among the weeds, which stood out in the light of the stars. It must have been whoever had opened the door. I could see the silhouette of a slender face and their white skin, pale in the twilight. One of the villagers. I set the girl down and snatched the flashlight from her hands, immediately brandishing it. I was just about to swing it downward, heavy, battery-side first, when a familiar voice greeted my ears.
“As if a disciplinary violation wasn’t enough. You’re not planning to commit assault, too, are you?”
I stopped a hair’s breadth before making contact and flipped the flashlight around. Rokuhara was standing there, holding up his hands to shield his face from the light. He looked annoyed.
“Rokuhara?!”
“Rokuhara?” the little girl said, repeating my words and clinging tighter to Miyaki’s side.
“Don’t worry. This Rokuhara won’t chase you around.”
“Are we being chased by Rokuharas now?” my brother-in-law said. He didn’t seem fazed at seeing us burst from a hole in the ground, covered in mud.
“What are you doing here…?”
Before Rokuhara could answer, the high-pitched sound of sirens filled the air. I spotted red police lights racing through the blackness of the marshes. Several police cars appeared, officers pouring out of the vehicles.
“Did you call them?”
“Of course I did. I had a feeling something was up when you stole that sealed letter that arrived for me. It didn’t take much investigation to uncover several missing-person cases and a slew of questionable circumstances. I also received a well-timed tip from the original sender of the letter,” Rokuhara said, pointing behind him.
An emaciated-looking child stared at us from in between the tall weeds. His eyes, which seemed ready to spill out of his head, were directed behind us.
“Shou,” the girl with us called out, but as she stumbled forward on shaky legs, she was swept up in the arms of one of the emergency workers who had arrived alongside the police cars.
“Get in the vehicle. We can leave the rest to the authorities.”
Miyaki and I were led to a white van parked at the edge of the marshlands. I was reluctant to enter, covered in mud as I was, but I didn’t really have a choice. I got into the passenger seat.
“I expect a full explanation later,” Rokuhara said, staring straight ahead as he buckled his seat belt. “What were you thinking, dragging a junior partner along on personal affairs…?”
Miyaki smiled uncomfortably from the back seat. The static on the radio and the gentle warmth from the heater finally restored a modicum of normalcy to my frayed nerves.
“Rokuhara, this village…”
“It’s a terrible place, isn’t it?”
The red lights began to speed off. I watched as several police cars cut across the grass, headed toward the small collection of homes.
“Should you really say that? This is your hometown, after all.”
“Your point?” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His face, with its tear-shaped mole, was visible in profile. “They were the ones who raised the kind of miscreant capable of destroying his own hometown without batting an eyelid. They only have themselves to blame.”
I sighed. The villagers and that accursed poison god may have been awful creatures, but if they were right about one thing, it was to fear the sort of people who did not fear the gods. I wondered how much of the truth I should share with Rokuhara.
“Your wife, though,” Miyaki muttered. “In the end…”
“We didn’t find any leads, no. But something had to be done about this place. So maybe things worked out in a sense.”
I stared out the window. The girl had already been placed upon a clean stretcher and was being wheeled into an ambulance. Her younger brother, Shou, was sitting in the back inside the harsh light, his knees drawn up to his chest. He nodded curtly, as if noticing my gaze. No, not a nod. He was bowing.
The girl, too, turned her gaze toward Miyaki and me. In the ambulance’s interior, which shone brilliant and white in the darkness of the night, the girl lifted her hand into the air and flashed us a peace sign in a move that seemed perfectly suited to her age.