Hantu Wanita Jepang Novels & Stories

The blindfold was ripped away as strong hands forced me to my knees on the tatami mats of the hidden Kyoto ryokan. The air smelled of incense, expensive sake, and raw masculine power. Standing before me was a stunning woman in a blood-red kimono, her black hair pinned with ornate kanzashi, and a dragon tattoo peeking from her collar. She was Akira Hayashi, the ruthless Dragon Princess who now controlled the most powerful Yakuza syndicate in Japan.

"There's no energy signature, no physical presence, nothing to lock onto. It's a ghost in the machine of the mind." The terrifying, unspoken implication hung in the air: Katherine, with her encyclopedic knowledge of Jack's weaknesses and the tower's defenses, was next. Just then, a quiet, unassuming presence entered the room. It was the old woman, one of the supernatural refugees Jack had granted sanctuary in the tower's protected levels. She was a "Kumiho," a nine-tailed fox from the East, her powers supposedly long since faded with extreme age. Or so they had thought. She wore simple, traditional silk robes and moved with a quiet, unobtrusive grace.

a rough voice murmurs "Are you okay?" Oh, no. No I prayed for a living soul but not this one. It was Hinata. One of the most fearsome members of the renowned mafia group Yakuzas, otheriwse known as "Bloods & Sins". "huh, yeah I'm great" I tried to brush off the panic, casually drawing away from him and avoiding his concerned gaze as if I don't have a care in the world. But, in reality, my fear had only been heightened. "Sorry to worry you, have a nice night."

"Drink up first!" I drank it too. "It all started in 1945," Uncle Brody began. "When Japan lost the war." Uncle Brody told me that at the time, there was a young Javanese woman who became a sex slave of Japanese soldiers or what is commonly called jugun ianfu. The woman was held with dozens of other Javanese ianfu jugun in an ianjo - Japanese for a brothel - in Surabaya. The young Javanese woman became pregnant without knowing who the father of the fetus was. She was raped in turn by the Japanese soldiers.

“If I am right, we’re dealing with a Hannya - a Japanese demon mask that traps the souls of obsessive or jealous women.” “You mean it was Jean wearing the mask who attacked me?” Dana looked at me with surprise at this news. “Wait, if this Hannya is raised by jealousy, does that mean she also killed her fiancé?” “Probably.” “So why would she have killed Estelle?” Dana asked. “That may not matter at the moment,” I said, peeking through the girl’s slightly open door. “Did anyone see where Jean went?”

Many were getting maimed or slaughtered by older, battle hardy males who were hoarding females. I was never worried about being hoarded by such males. Nobody wanted to square off with Remus. He had even frightened the two friends I had made into staying back. Kita would then speak to me through the woodline, under scrutinizing glare of Remus. Remus had never favored Kita, who was a rogue male. Kita was female crazy and eccentric. Too full of life and not enough of sense, Remus would say.

Instead, a woman sat, sipping a martini, her black dress clinging to her curves, her glossy hair cascading in waves. She was gorgeous—high cheekbones, full lips, an aura that screamed power and sex appeal. She was Japanese, like Kaito. Her dark eyes locked on me with familiarity. Which was weird cause I know I've never met her before. “Oh, you must be the Lisa,” she said, her voice smooth and lightly accented. Her smile more smirk than warm. She stood, offering a manicured hand, her nails were blood-red. “I’m Hana Tanaka.” Confusion slammed into me harder. Tanaka—Kaito’s surname. My stomach twisted, a sick dread rising.

"You have no right to speak here" Mr. Wijaya snorted in annoyance. He was angry with Hani's rude attitude towards his second wife Susi. Even though they are married in unison, Mr. Wijaya still wants Hani to accept their new status. Mr. Wijaya immediately took a step, approaching Hani, who was still standing rooted in her place. He stretched out his hand and tried to cover Hani's mouth with the handkerchief that was in his hand. Hani and Anna tried to fight back, but unfortunately, the powder in the handkerchief burst into the air was inhaled by Anna and Hani so that they fainted instantly. “Looks like that's your only defense, madam. I don't have to be afraid of you at all. Even though you a

Sakura was praying very hard Jane would miraculously appear and sort out this mess when she heard a commotion on the other side. She looked up to see the famous Japanese designer Mr. Tachibana coming toward them, his long hair—dyed bleach blond—flying and his long white robe fluttering about him. Beside him was the woman Sakura had been waiting eagerly to meet in person, the woman who had given birth to her twenty-five years ago, Haruka Tanaka, also known simply as Ms. Ruka. She was tall, Sakura realized, with strong, angular face, and thin nose that sat nicely on her face. She was very beautiful.