【Japanese Horror】The Hundred Horror Tales — Episode 12: The Face in the Sandbox | Haunted Kaidan Tales
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Episode 12 – “The Face in the Sandbox| Haunted Kaidan Tales” (Full Text)
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The Hundred Horror Tales –Episode 12The Face in the Sandbox
“…That one was kinda scary."
I mumbled without thinking, and Sōma gave a small smile.
But his eyes still looked like they were caught in the story he’d just told—
and that felt a little unfair.
“Okay, then… it’s my turn next!"
When I raised my hand, I saw someone flinch a little.
But it was too late.
With these kinds of things, timing is everything.
It happened on a Sunday, right at the start of summer break.
I played at a friend’s house in the morning, and on the way home, I stopped by a park.
Mom had told me, “Don’t make any detours, come straight home!” but… just a little detour.
The park was just a small open space near the station—
a couple of swings, some monkey bars, and a big sandbox.
It was kind of old and quiet.
But that day, no one else was there.
The sun was blazing, cicadas were screaming—
I should’ve just gone home.
Still, for some reason, I felt like going over to the sandbox.
…It felt weird.
Even though nobody was there,
the sand looked like someone had just been playing.
There was a spot where the sand was slightly mounded up,
like someone had started building something—and left it unfinished.
I crouched down and stared at it.
And then, even though there wasn’t any wind,
that little mound of sand started to crumble, softly—psh… psh…
“…Huh?"
It moved, like something was coming out from under the sand.
I couldn’t move.
The sand in front of me quietly gave way, falling apart—
and then, a face appeared.
Really, it was just a small face made of sand.
Its eyes were carved just a bit deeper than the rest… and the mouth was grinning.
“…No way."
Because—because I knew that face.
I’d seen it in a dream.
Just last night.
In the dream, I think that face was a lot bigger.
It was in a dark place, and I remember the sand scraping, shifting around…
Then it slowly started turning into a person.
…But when I woke up, I’d forgotten everything.
I only remembered it clearly when I saw that face in front of me.
“…Why…?”
My voice trembled, and my legs locked up.
Because it really did look exactly the same.
The shape of the eyes, the curve of the mouth—just like the scary face I saw in the dream.
I stood up in a hurry, but for some reason, I couldn’t look away.
That face… it was smiling.
A creepy, grinning smile—just like a real person.
I stood there frozen, until I heard a creak.
I looked up, and deep among the trees,
a swing was moving—slowly swaying back and forth.
Even though no one was there.
“…Nope. I’m going home.”
I walked away from the sandbox, careful not to look back.
I didn’t run.
It felt like… if I ran, something would start chasing me.
But… of course, it wasn’t over.
That night, after my bath, I went back to my room—
and there it was: a photo on my phone I didn’t recognize.
I was sure I had kept my phone in my bag that whole day.
And I didn’t use it at my friend’s house either.
But there it was, right at the top of the camera roll—
A photo of that sandbox.
And the “sand face” I’d seen?
It was right there in the photo, clear as day.
“…No way…”
I couldn’t speak.
No—more like, I was scared that if I did say something… it might hear me.
And that photo?
It’s been changing. Little by little.
At first, it was just the sand face.
But earlier, when I checked it again, there were tiny handprints around it.
As if something was crawling toward it.
…The next day, I asked some friends at school.
“Hey, is there a weird sandbox around here?"
One older kid said, “Maybe you’re talking about the one at ○○ Park?"
And then they started telling me stuff like,
“At night, a face appears,"
or, “If you stick your hand in, something grabs it from underneath…"
They said all kinds of things.
But none of it sounded like a joke.
I got really scared after that.
From then on, I made sure to stay far away from that park.
But then, a few days later… I passed by it again on my way home from school.
I was going to take the long way, but my feet just… kind of took me there.
Before I knew it, I was standing still in the middle of the sunset.
The monkey bars and swings were glowing red…
and the sandbox looked darker than anything else.
“…I shouldn’t have looked.”
That’s what I thought right away.
In the middle of the sandbox, that face was there again.
But this time… it wasn’t smiling.
It didn’t look angry, exactly—
more like it was saying, “Why did you come back?”
“…I’m sorry…”
The words slipped out before I even realized.
And just like that, a cold shiver ran down my back.
I turned and hurried away like I was running from something.
When I got home and checked my phone,
there it was again—another new photo.
This time, it was the angry face I’d just seen.
And the photo… it was kind of moving.
Not like a video, but like it was slowly changing.
The shadows around its eyes were getting darker and deeper,
and the corners of its mouth were starting to curl up into a slow, creepy grin.
“…Go away… Why won’t you go away…?”
I panicked and threw it in the trash folder, then deleted it for real.
…Or at least, I thought I did.
But the next morning, when I checked again—
the photo was back.
And this time, there wasn’t just one.
The first photo was the sandbox.
The second was the sand face.
And the third was… a shadowy figure standing beside the swing set.
And the moment I saw it—
my phone screen suddenly went pitch black.
I tapped the pitch-black phone screen over and over.
I pressed the power button too… but nothing happened.
“Come on… is it broken…?”
That’s when the screen lit up—just for a second.
And what it showed… was my room.
But it wasn’t just me. Someone else was standing there.
Behind the curtain.
Next to my desk.
And then—right behind me, holding the phone.
“—!!”
I spun around without thinking.
But no one was there.
Nothing at all.
The lights were on, the curtains were closed.
It was just me. Or… it was supposed to be.
…Something was wrong.
The phone screen was still on.
That thing… it was still there.
The thing on the screen was staring right at me, grinning.
And it looked like it had moved—just a little bit closer.
My hands were shaking so bad I nearly dropped the phone.
I couldn’t speak.
Couldn’t move.
Only my heartbeat kept pounding louder and louder.
Somewhere in my head, I thought,
“I hope this is just a dream…”
…But the more I wished it was,
the more real everything started to feel.
The screen went black—
and I think I blacked out too.
When I opened my eyes, it was morning.
My phone was lying at the foot of my bed.
The screen was normal, and the creepy photo was gone…
So I tried to tell myself it must’ve been a dream.
But I was still so scared.
I cried and cried, and told my dad—
“This phone has something scary in it! I don’t want it anymore! I really don’t!”
At first, he just laughed it off.
But when I wouldn’t stop crying,
he finally gave in and got me a new one.
All the photos, all the videos—everything was gone.
A completely clean slate.
I should’ve felt safe… but I didn’t.
A few days later, I opened my gallery for no reason—
and there it was.
One photo I didn’t remember taking.
The sandbox.
The sand face.
And that thing, standing beside the swing set.
“…No way…”
That’s the end of my story.
I gently blew out the candle in front of me.
Fffff…
And just as the flame went out,
I thought I heard the sound of someone’s phone—
click.
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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?
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• Twitter: @KaidanTales
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