1 Murakami Kouta

I didn't really know how else to start this off. Introductions are too much of a pain.

Well, you're here, so let's start with the basics. My name is Murakami Kouta. I live in the Asakusa district of Tokyo, Japan.

I'm seventeen years old, a second year at Iwasaki High School.

I usually keep to myself, I only have two or three people that I'd call my 'friends', and I live alone.

Pretty boring right?

Asking why do I live alone?

Well you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you. After all, the police didn't. Neither did anyone at school. Ah, whatever. It couldn't hurt.

When I was fifteen, my mom, dad, and my little sister were killed by a ghost. I saw it myself. I was coming home from school. I'd stayed out a little later than usual to go hit the library since I had a test coming up that I needed to study for.

When I got home, it was already nightfall. I opened the front door to the house.

First thing I noticed was that all the lights were off. It was only around seven o'clock, so it would've been weird if my entire family was asleep. I walked into the living room to see my father on the floor, mauled to death. I was scared. Terrified would be an understatement. He had claw marks running all through his body. There was blood everywhere.

I ran to the kitchen to tell my mom, but she met the same fate, out on the kitchen floor, brutally murdered by something with a claw. So I ran up the stairs to my little sister's bedroom. I wanted her to be alive. I remember praying so hard for her to still be okay.

I swung open the door. And that's when I saw it.

A ghost.

It was huge. Its head was at the ceiling, and it was floating over the floor. I didn't see any legs. The ghost had some weird looking blue hannya mask on its face. Or maybe that was its face. But whatever it was, it killed everyone in the house.

A feeling of helplessness came over me as I stared at my little sister's corpse. I ran away from it as fast as I could. But I tripped over my own feet at the stairs and fell down. The ghost chased after me and cut the corner at the end of the hall. I thought I was gonna die.

When the ghost tried to slash me with its claw-like hands, its entire arm was suddenly torn off. Like some sort of magic trick. It burst into a bunch of small particles. It tried to hit me again but the same thing happened. That's when me, being the stupid idiot I am, ran at the ghost thinking I could somehow take it out.

Instead, I fused with it.

That's right. I, Murakami Kouta, am possessed by a ghost.

I felt perfectly fine after the ghost possessed me, but that didn't stop me from calling the cops. When they came, they questioned me and asked if I'd seen the killer.

I told them it was a ghost. Let me just say that I spent a good while in therapy because of that claim.

I spent the next few months freaking out, trying to get people to believe me. But they just saw me as the crazy kid who saw his family get murdered. I wanted trust, not pity.

Since then, I've kept everything mostly to myself. But that doesn't mean that my life's back to normal. When that ghost possessed me, something changed. Well, a lot of things changed. My hearing is crazy sensitive. I can hear a penny drop in the middle of a large crowd. My eyesight improved too. I have the nose of a bloodhound. And while the average person may think that what I've got is some blessing, no, it's not. Trust me. I just want to live a normal, average, easy life all to myself. But I can't. I hear things I shouldn't hear. See things I don't want to see. And the smells. God, the smells. And even if I didn't have all of that, I can't shake the fact that the killer of my family is living inside of my body. Honestly, it's all just one huge pain.

I miss my family. Even to this day.

I swear. I'm going to find out why my family was targeted that night. Why am I the one who was left alive? Am I just blessed? Or cursed? The feeling of dread wakes me up in the morning everyday. The very being that ruined my life lives somewhere inside of me. It's disgusting.

I'm going to take revenge. If it's the last thing I do.