【Japanese Horror】The Hundred Horror Tales — Episode 45: You’ll Live in Fear of Me | Haunted Kaidan Tales
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Episode 45 – “You’ll Live in Fear of Me| Haunted Kaidan Tales” (Full Text)
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Episode 45 You’ll Live in Fear of Me
White smoke slowly drifted toward the ceiling.
Another candle went out.
For a while, the room fell into silence. The remaining candlelight flickered softly, casting faint shadows across the walls. No one spoke at first.
Eventually, Shūji let out a quiet breath.
“A woman who takes her time… huh.”
He shrugged slightly.
“That’s not something you can laugh off.”
Aoi gave a small, uneasy smile.
“So… what was that, in the end?”
Seikichi shook his head.
“Who knows.”
“That’s what makes it frightening.”
Sōma crossed his arms.
“Still… sometimes people are scarier than the supernatural.”
At that, Shūji gave a short laugh.
“That’s true.”
“People can be far more twisted.”
Just then, Miwa let out a soft chuckle.
“I kind of get that.”
Shūji turned toward her.
“What, you’ve got a story too?”
Miwa kept her eyes on the candlelight as she spoke.
“It’s not exactly a ghost story.”
“It’s about a friend of mine.”
Aoi leaned forward slightly.
“A friend?”
“Yeah.”
Miwa nodded.
“Just an ordinary person. No special sensitivity or anything.”
“A housewife you’d see anywhere.”
She paused briefly.
“One day, a package arrived at her house.”
Shūji frowned.
“Online shopping?”
Miwa shook her head.
“No.”
“It was a package she never ordered.”
“There was no sender name, either.”
Sōma frowned.
“A delivery mistake?”
“That’s what she thought at first.”
Miwa continued.
“It was just a cardboard box. Nothing unusual about it. Completely ordinary.”
“But…”
“…her name was written directly on the box.”
Aoi whispered,
“…That’s creepy.”
“Yeah.”
Miwa nodded slightly.
“She said it honestly made her uncomfortable to even touch it.”
“But her own name was written on it, right?”
The candlelight flickered softly.
“So leaving it outside somehow felt even worse.”
“She brought it inside anyway.”
After a brief pause, Miwa continued.
“And then…”
“She got curious.”
“So she opened it.”
“And inside… was a notebook.”
Shūji frowned.
“A notebook?”
“Yeah.”
Miwa answered calmly.
“The kind students use. Plain cover, nothing written on it.”
“That was it.”
Sōma asked,
“That’s all?”
“Yeah. That’s all.”
She paused.
“But when she opened it…”
The candle flame wavered slightly.
“On the first page… her name was written there
No one laughed.
The air in the room grew heavier.
“And not just her name.”
“Her full name.”
“Her real name.”
Aoi whispered,
“…Who wrote it?”
Miwa shrugged slightly.
“No idea.”
“But that wasn’t all.”
Her voice dropped slightly.
“On the next page… her address was written.”
“The address of her house.”
Sōma let out a quiet breath.
“That’s creepy.”
“Right?”
Miwa kept her gaze on the candle.
“That’s when she realized this wasn’t a delivery mistake.”
Shūji asked,
“Why?”
Miwa paused briefly.
Then said—
“Because that box… didn’t have a shipping label on it.”
The air in the room tightened, ever so slightly.
“The box was properly sealed.”
“But there was no delivery slip.”
“No company sticker.”
“Nothing.”
Miwa spoke quietly.
“Which means…”
“No one knows who placed it there…”
“…or how it got to her door.”
The candlelight flickered softly.
“It was a package…”
“…with no explanation at all.”
The candlelight flickered softly.
Without taking her eyes off the flame, Miwa continued.
“So… during the day, she closed the notebook.”
She gave a small shrug.
“Creepy, right?”
“A notebook with your own name and address written inside it.”
No one laughed.
“So she put it back in the box…”
“…and decided to leave it alone for the time being.”
The candlelight wavered.
“But still…”
Miwa let out a quiet breath.
“You’d be curious, wouldn’t you?”
Shūji nodded slightly.
“Yeah… I would.”
Miwa continued.
“So that night…”
“After she finished everything at home…”
“…after things finally settled down…”
“…she looked at the notebook again.”
A brief silence followed.
The candle flame flickered.
“She went back to the pages she had already seen.”
“The page with her name.”
“Then the page with her address.”
“They were exactly the same as before.”
Miwa paused.
“But then…”
The candlelight trembled slightly.
“On the next page…”
“…she noticed something written there.”
Aoi spoke quietly.
“…She didn’t see it during the day?”
Miwa nodded.
“It seems she hadn’t flipped that far earlier.”
The candlelight flickered again.
“So…”
“She read it.”
Sōma asked,
“What did it say?”
Miwa lowered her voice slightly.
“It said…”
“‘You notice the package during the day.’”
The air in the room grew heavier.
“In that moment…”
“She felt something was off.”
Miwa kept her eyes on the flame.
“Because…”
“…it was exactly right.”
No one said anything.
“And then…”
Miwa continued.
“Under that line…”
“There was another sentence.”
Sōma asked,
“What did it say?”
Miwa spoke slowly.
“‘At night… you open the notebook again.’”
The candlelight flickered—
just slightly.
The candlelight flickered softly.
Without taking her eyes off the flame, Miwa continued quietly.
“So…”
“She kept turning the pages.”
“What was written at first…”
“…were recent things.”
Sōma asked,
“Recent?”
“Yeah.”
Miwa nodded.
“The supermarket she often goes to.”
“The time she usually shops.”
“Picking up and dropping off her child.”
The candlelight wavered.
“The day she takes out the trash.”
“The nearby park.”
“It was all just… everyday life.”
Aoi murmured,
“…That’s creepy.”
“Right?”
Miwa said.
“She started to feel like someone was watching her.”
A brief silence followed.
“But then…”
“When she turned to the next page…”
“She felt something even more unsettling.”
Shūji asked,
“What was it?”
Miwa answered,
“It wasn’t just recent things anymore.”
The candlelight flickered quietly.
“There were things from a little while ago, too.”
Sōma frowned.
“For example?”
“Things she talked about with other moms.”
“Complaints she muttered at home.”
“Things she hadn’t told anyone.”
Aoi said quietly,
“…That’s… really scary.”
Miwa nodded.
“So she started to feel more and more uncomfortable.”
“She even thought about stopping.”
Another pause.
“But…”
“It kept going.”
The candlelight wavered.
“From there on…”
“…it went even further back.”
Shūji asked,
“Further back?”
Miwa spoke softly.
“Her school days.”
“Small incidents.”
“Things only she would remember.”
Aoi whispered,
“…Why would someone know that?”
Miwa gave a small shrug.
“She thought the same thing.”
The candlelight flickered faintly.
“And then…”
“When she reached a certain page…”
“…she finally realized it.”
Sōma asked,
“Realized what?”
Miwa spoke slowly.
“At the very end of that page…”
“There was a single line written.”
The candlelight wavered.
“It said…”
A brief pause.
“‘Do you understand now?’”
The air in the room grew heavy.
“At that moment…”
“She finally thought…”
Miwa said quietly,
“This…”
“…was written by someone…”
“…who knows everything about her.”
The candlelight continued to flicker—quietly.
The candlelight flickered softly.
After a brief pause, Miwa continued.
“So…”
“After closing the notebook…”
“She started thinking.”
The flame wavered gently.
“About her school days.”
“A friend who used to come over all the time.”
She paused.
“There was only one person…”
“…who came to mind.”
Aoi asked,
“Who?”
Miwa answered.
“Yoshikawa.”
The candlelight trembled faintly.
“So…”
“She picked up her phone…”
“…and called him.”
A brief silence followed.
“But…”
“He didn’t answer.”
Sōma said,
“Ignoring her?”
Miwa shook her head.
“No.”
“It rang…”
“…and then went straight to voicemail.”
The candlelight flickered again.
“And then…”
“She felt something was off.”
“So she opened the notebook again.”
Another pause.
“And when she did…”
Miwa said quietly,
“On the last page…”
“…there was something written.”
The candlelight flickered softly.
“It said—”
“‘Thank you for calling.’”
The candlelight flickered softly.
After a brief pause, Miwa continued.
“So…”
“The next day…”
“Yoshikawa came to her house.”
Shūji frowned.
“…He came?”
Miwa nodded.
“The doorbell rang.”
“When she opened the door…”
“…he was standing there.”
“Yoshikawa.”
The candlelight wavered.
“And then…”
“He started talking about the past.”
“Things from their school days.”
“Old memories.”
“He kept going on…”
“…with nothing but resentment.”
Aoi asked quietly,
“…And then?”
Miwa continued.
“At the end…”
“He said this.”
The candlelight trembled faintly.
“‘From now on…’”
“‘You’ll live in fear of my shadow.’”
“‘For the rest of your life.’”
She paused.
“And then…”
“He just left.”
The room fell silent.
“She was terrified.”
“So she went to the police.”
Sōma nodded.
“That makes sense.”
Miwa continued.
“But…”
The candlelight flickered.
“In the end…”
“They never caught him.”
Aoi asked,
“Why?”
Miwa gave a faint smile.
“Why do you think?”
A brief silence.
“Yoshikawa…”
“…was no longer in this world.”
No one spoke.
Miwa shrugged lightly.
“So…”
“You never really know…”
“…what might make someone resent you.”
She smiled faintly.
“Some people…”
“…enjoy watching you suffer…”
“…more than ending it.”
The candlelight wavered.
“…Scary, isn’t it?”
With that, she reached for the final candle.
She took a small breath.
—fuu.
The flame trembled—
and quietly went out.
In an instant,
the room was swallowed by darkness.
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The Hundred Horror Tales is an original Japanese horror anthology inspired by the tradition of Hyaku Monogatari.
Five storytellers gather around flickering candles to share chilling tales—urban legends, ghost stories, folklore, daily fears, and real encounters.
Can you endure until the last flame goes out?
Follow for more:
• Twitter: @KaidanTales
• YouTube: @HK_Tales
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