【Japanese Horror】The Hundred Horror Tales — Episode 30: The Two Days I Don’t Remember | Haunted Kaidan Tales
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Episode 30 — The Two Days I Don’t Remember
The thin trail of smoke
from the extinguished candle
still lingered in the air.
The room had grown darker—
just by one flame.
Miwa’s voice from moments ago
seemed to have sunk
to the bottom of the air,
and no one spoke right away.
Thirty minutes.
Time unseen.
The words still clung somewhere,
refusing to fade.
“…Time you can’t see, huh.”
Shūji muttered under his breath.
As if forcing himself back to normal,
he rolled his shoulders.
“Well… that kind of thing happens sometimes, right?
I’ve had something like that too.”
Aoi looked up.
“Even you, Uncle Shūji?”
“Back when I was younger.”
He let out a small laugh.
“A test of courage.
Deep in the mountains.”
Sōma said nothing—
only shifted his gaze slightly,
as if telling him to go on.
This was when I was still in my twenties.
I took two juniors with me
and drove into a mountain road
late at night.
We had heard
there was an old shrine up ahead.
There weren’t any streetlights.
It was a real mountain road—
pitch dark.
We parked the car
and walked in with only flashlights.
Back then,
it was just a game to us.
“This should be it, up ahead.”
One of them said, laughing.
“Don’t chicken out,”
I shot back lightly.
The sound of our footsteps on gravel
echoed louder than it should have.
Then—
the insects went silent.
Just for a moment.
But it was unmistakable.
Everything… stopped.
No one said a word about it.
We all just… pretended not to notice.
The path grew narrower.
Beyond the beam of our flashlights,
there was nothing but black.
For a second,
it felt like the branches moved—
even though there was no wind.
“…Something feels off.”
One of them lowered his voice.
“What do you mean?”
“The air…”
The air? What the hell does that even—
That’s when we heard it.
Clink.
A dry, metallic sound.
Not the wind.
Not leaves.
Then again—
Clink.
I laughed.
“Probably a bell on the shrine or something.”
But without realizing it,
my steps had already slowed.
Up ahead,
we saw a dark shape.
The shrine.
Small,
standing quietly among the trees.
Inside,
there was only darkness—
a black space the light couldn’t reach.
One of the flashlights trembled.
And with that trembling—
the shadow
seemed to move,
just slightly.
I stopped.
The laughter from before
had vanished without a trace.
“…There’s something there.”
Someone whispered.
In front of the shrine,
something was standing.
It looked human.
But it didn’t move.
Even without wind,
its outline wavered faintly.
There was no face.
I raised my light—
And in that moment—
The moment I raised my light—
the shadow
slid sideways.
Silently.
As if it had never been there to begin with.
“…It just moved, right?”
One of the juniors whispered,
his voice cracking.
“It’s the wind.”
I answered immediately.
But there was no wind.
Not a single leaf was moving.
Only the dirt in front of the shrine
looked slightly disturbed—
like something had stepped there.
I took a step forward.
Slowly,
I aimed the beam of my flashlight
into the shrine.
Old wooden boards.
A cracked roof.
No signs that anyone had been there recently.
But—
the inside was too dark.
The light didn’t reach.
It was like the darkness itself
was swallowing it.
Clink.
It rang again.
This time—from inside the shrine.
A dry, metallic sound.
“Let’s go.”
One of them said it clearly.
There was no trace of laughter anymore.
And I didn’t argue.
“Yeah. We’ve seen enough.”
I turned my back.
That’s when—
the sound of footsteps increased.
There were three of us.
But four sets of footsteps.
I heard it clearly.
Crunch. Crunch.
On the gravel.
I didn’t look back.
“Run.”
That’s all I said,
and I took off.
The flashlight beams shook wildly.
Tree trunks flashed past.
Ragged breathing behind me.
And right at my back—
something.
A presence.
The footsteps matched our pace perfectly.
Never getting closer.
Never falling behind.
Just keeping the same distance.
I ran straight back to the car.
Almost dropped the keys
as I fumbled the door open.
All three of us jumped inside.
The moment the doors slammed shut—
the footsteps stopped.
Silence.
I started the engine.
Turned the headlights forward.
Nothing.
No shrine.
No one there.
Just an ordinary mountain road.
I glanced at the rearview mirror.
The two juniors were in the back seat—
pale.
“…Did you see it?”
One of them asked, trembling.
“There was nothing.”
I said.
But at that moment—
at the edge of the mirror,
I thought I saw
something black.
Just for a second.
It vanished when I blinked.
“…Just my imagination.”
I pressed the accelerator.
No one spoke
until we got out of the mountains.
The insects were back.
Streetlights appeared.
It was like
nothing had ever happened.
But—
when we got out of the car,
one of them muttered,
“…There were three of us, right?”
I laughed.
“Of course.”
That’s what I said.
And yet—
for some reason,
I couldn’t answer immediately.
Back there—
when we were running—
those footsteps.
Were there really four?
Or did our footsteps
just overlap strangely?
I stopped thinking about it.
We split up there.
I drove home alone.
As I descended the mountain,
the lights of the town came into view.
The usual road.
Traffic lights.
Convenience stores.
Everything was normal.
Only then
did my breathing finally settle.
All that was left
was to go home.
That’s what I thought—
and I remember
gripping the steering wheel again.
Up to that point—
I remember it clearly.
When I got home,
it felt strangely quiet.
It should have been past one.
When I turned off the engine,
my heartbeat sounded unnaturally loud.
I opened the door.
The night air felt… warm.
Different from the cold in the mountains.
The keys in my pocket
felt heavier than they should.
I stepped inside.
The lights were off.
Of course they were.
It was that late.
As I took off my shoes,
something felt off.
There was no gravel
on the soles.
Even though I had just been running—
on a mountain road.
I stood there for a while,
staring at them.
Something wasn’t right.
But maybe I was just tired.
I decided to take a bath.
I turned on the light in the dressing room.
My reflection stared back at me.
A little pale.
Shadows under my eyes.
That was all.
It should have been.
And yet—
it felt like my reflection
blinked
just a fraction of a second
too late.
I looked away.
“…Don’t be stupid.”
I said it out loud.
It was my voice.
Perfectly normal.
I tried not to think about
what I saw in the mountains.
The water felt hotter than usual.
As I washed my hair,
those footsteps came back to me.
Four.
No—
that’s not right.
There were three of us.
I kept telling myself that.
When I got out of the bath,
I dried my hair with a towel
and walked past the living room.
In the darkness,
the black screen of the TV
looked like a window.
And for a split second—
it felt like
someone was standing
right behind me.
I turned around.
Nothing.
Just a quiet house.
I had to sleep.
That’s all I could think.
I lay down in bed
and stared at the ceiling.
The shrine.
The shadow.
The metallic sound.
The footsteps.
The more I tried not to think about it,
the clearer it became.
Then—
I heard something.
A faint sound.
Clink.
That same sound.
Not something
you should hear inside a house.
I sat up.
Listened.
Nothing.
Silence.
Only my own breathing.
“…I’m just tired.”
I muttered.
I lay back down
and closed my eyes.
I don’t know
if I fell asleep right away.
But—
everything after that
is gone.
The moment after I lay down—
it just… drops off.
As if someone
cut that part away.
Maybe I had a dream.
Maybe I was talking to someone.
But I can’t grasp any of it.
I should have woken up.
I should have changed clothes.
I should have seen someone.
And yet—
from that point on,
my memory is strangely thin.
What did I say?
Who did I look at?
What was I thinking?
Whenever I try to remember—
the darkness of that shrine
rises up instead.
That black shape
appears
at the edge of my vision.
I stopped thinking about it.
It didn’t matter.
By the next day,
I’d forget it anyway.
Up to that point—
When I came to,
I was sitting
on the sofa in my living room.
The TV was on.
A daytime talk show played,
its voices sounding strangely distant.
My head felt heavy.
It didn’t feel like
I had just dozed off.
Something was off.
I glanced at the clock.
A little past one in the afternoon.
Well… if it was my day off,
that wasn’t too strange.
Without thinking,
I picked up my phone.
The moment I saw the screen—
my fingers froze.
The date was wrong.
Not yesterday.
Not today.
It had advanced
two full days.
“…What the hell?”
I checked my history.
Missed calls.
Returned calls.
Messages sent.
The texts were mine.
Same casual tone.
Even the emojis.
I opened my photos.
Pictures from work.
Me, standing next to my coworkers.
The timestamp—yesterday.
I don’t remember that day.
I checked my schedule.
I had gone to work.
Marked as completed.
My call logs were normal.
Everything looked normal.
I had lived those two days.
From the mountain—
I came home.
Took a bath.
Went to bed.
That much,
I remember clearly.
But after that—
there’s nothing.
As if that part
had been cut away.
I went to the entrance.
My shoes were neatly placed.
The room was unchanged.
Nothing disturbed.
There was no sign
that I had been gone
for two days.
The opposite.
There were signs
that I had been there.
Used dishes.
Something washed.
Trash in the bag.
Everything—
ordinary.
Only I
don’t know those two days.
I try to remember.
After I got into bed—
I should have woken up.
Changed clothes.
Stepped outside.
I should be able to see it.
But I can’t.
Instead—
what comes back is
the darkness of that shrine.
That black figure.
The fourth set of footsteps.
The sound—
Clink.
I stopped thinking.
There’s only one fact.
I have no memory
of those two days.
Shūji shrugged.
“Well… nothing really happened, right?
No one made a big deal out of it.
Seems like I even went to work like normal.”
He gave a small laugh.
“Just because I don’t remember it
doesn’t mean anything strange happened.
I probably just lived those days like usual.”
Aoi spoke quietly.
“But… isn’t that scary?”
“Scary? Not really.”
Shūji let out an exaggerated sigh.
“You know how some people lose their memory when they drink too much?
Think of it as a longer version of that.”
He looked at the remaining candle.
The flame flickered—
thin and unsteady.
“Nothing happened.”
He continued calmly.
“No one got hurt.
I’m perfectly fine, as you can see.”
But his smile was just slightly stiff.
“So—
it’s probably nothing.”
No one responded.
Sōma silently watched the flame.
Miwa said nothing.
Seikichi narrowed his eyes slightly.
Aoi unconsciously pulled her legs closer.
Shūji gave a light laugh.
“So—who’s next?”
He leaned forward
and gently blew.
The flame swelled,
stretched thin—
and then—
it went out.
Darkness fell.
Only the presence of the room remained.
Someone quietly held their breath.
In the dark,
no one moved.
The fifth candle
had been extinguished.
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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
• YouTube: @HK_Tales
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