one.

I can feel his presence surrounding me, clawing underneath my t shirt and running up my back. I can't see him, at least not clearly enough to make out his appearance.

Why did I come to the forest alone at this time? Was it really worth coming all the way out here to look for my phone? It's just a phone is it worth risking my ass for it? These questions were racking up in my head as I paced through the muddy path, back towards the little smoke spot that my friends and I had conjured up. We head there all of the time to smoke in secret, yet none of us have ever seen somebody else in these woods. It's normally dead quiet because of the history behind this place. When I was back in school there was a kid who always told stories of the past, specifically history of this particular area. It was frequent that these woods were mentioned in correlation to more than 10 disappearances over the years, happening once every 12. And it was just around the same time, exactly 12 years ago that they recorded the last one. Her name was Mitsui Kitadori, and she went to the same school as me when we were 8. Her parents were irresponsible and allowed her to ride her bicycle into the forest, before never seeing her again, is what my parents used to tell me when I would ask what happened to her. We were friends, and to this day I still want to know the truth.

"Who are you? I've never seen anyone out here before!" I exclaimed with confidence, expecting that I would sound intimidating enough that he'd keep his distance from me.

Instead he drew closer very quickly that I could have blinked and missed him completely. I could make out his outfit now, a tattered and torn suit, covered in dried mud and taped together on the left shoulder. This suit had been through a lot I figured, but then I caught his face. A mask?

A wave of nostalgia and sickness befell me, before I slumped to my knees in realisation that he was wearing Mitsui's face as a mask. It was both moldy and preserved surprisingly, after all these years something like that should be decomposed, so he must have kept it pristine. As he got closer I noticed that it wasn't just a mask, he stapled it onto his face to keep it as his permanent real face.

"dO yOu lIke mY mASk??? MiTsui sTiLl sPeAks tO Me. ShE reMemBers Yo..u."

His voice was subtle, and quiet, but loud enough to make out his words. His tone was crooked and tore right through my eardrums. A shiver sprinted up my spine and I froze, just staring directly into his face in awe. I could feel the vomit crawling up my throat and I just barely opened my mouth before I threw up all over myself.

The man looked at me with a blank stare, before bending his tall figure over and laughing maniacally. He aggressively licked my t shirt and face and I let out a piercing scream that forced him to step back.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I felt angry. It was building up inside of me, taking over the fear I was feeling before. I stood up and took a large swing toward his face. The last thing I saw in the moment was his crooked smile, half his-half hers, before he completely disappeared in front of my eyes. I punched thin air and then dropped to my knees once more. It started to rain. I could hear a faint ringtone over the ringing in my head. Is that my phone? I looked over next to me and could see the bright light of my phone. I have a phone call. I should answer it. When did it get here? Our spot is still a long walk away.