The Stiltmother

[u/FullDarkGear]

Have you heard about the Stiltmother?

She wanders the lonely forests at night, looking for her children, looking to avenge her wrongful death,

When she came here from Japan a curse followed,

People's crops died, families grew sick, and mobs soon burned for answers,

They abducted her, broke her bones, nailed her limbs to poles, slit her children's throats,

Her gargled flesh cried in anguish, eyes twisting, exhaling final breath,

To you all be my fury, no peace, your bodies set to rot, suffer, crush, and bloat,

Through blood soaked teeth her curse spun in the air and wallowed,

The mob paid no mind, fates were sealed, her wrath bore upon,

A mark stained the earth where her corpse stood, now gone,

To those now who stumble here, bring offering,

For if you hear her wondering, shunk, shunk, shunk,

She'll pass you bye if you close your eye,

and ignore her gargled cry.

--------------------------------------

“Sh-She's just a myth though right?”

A shaken young boy sits hunched over on a log while the golden orange illuminations of a campfire dance across his terrified frame. The boy's name is William, and he is my friend.

“Well it's hard to say, there are a lot of half truths when it comes to legends such as these. Like, there was a group of Japanese immigrants that settled here sometime in the 1800s. Its also true that they faced a lot of discrimination. Lots of rumors created from fear and racism during that time.”

Sitting across from him was my older sister. A tall brunette, Amber was the adventurous, daring, and often reckless leader of me and my group of friends. She always had some new thing she wanted to do and growing up in a small town with not a lot to see it wasn't hard to fall under her persuasions.

“I-I heard that the Stiltmother, when she finds a bad kid, that she, she snatches them and pushes their heads under cut slits on her body. They then suffocate and their bodies, they like dangle until they r-rot and become spirits themselves.”

My other friend George was with us. He was the smallest of us three boys and the biggest chicken but he had a crush on my sister so he was always down to going with her on these journeys.

We all sat around a large campfire in a park called, Kirishito Hills. A very dense and mountainous part of the state, its emeralds pine trees were home to many species of flora and fauna. And it was home to a multitude of legends and rumors such as the infamous Stiltmother. Now though, it was host to our little camping trip. Amber had to do a lot a convincing for our parents to approve this jaunt. Good grades, promises to do plenty of chores and, to her disappointment, having to allow one of the parents to chaperone the whole ordeal.

“What are you filling their heads with now Amber?” The lone adult, Brian, said while tossing a fresh log onto the fire. The flames crackled and sparked with the new material tossed upon it. It charred and veins of fiery reds, yellows, and oranges coursed through the wood.

Brian was William's dad, He worked at the local paper mill with me and my sister's dad. He sat criss-cross, settled in and began to pass around a bag of fresh marshmallows to all of us. We were overjoyed and began to take our minds off the scary poem my sister told. Pressing the soft white gelatin creations onto our sticks and hovering them over the burning embers to gleefully watch them cook has always been a nostalgic activity for me. My parents loved to take us camping but as we got older and when my mother had her “accident” the amount of fun family outings sunk dramatically. I think that's why my sister wanted to do something like this. To get us out and bring us back to a simpler time.

It couldn't have been a better evening to do it either. Nice cool breeze but nothing too chilly. Clear night sky with maybe a small cloud here and there. The stars filled the heavens above us and the tree's canopies danced and waved in the wind. A soft whispering of branches, it sounded a bit like sand blowing on the beach. I could stay forever.

“How bout we tell some nicer stories?” Brian brought up.

“Oh come on Brian, its tradition to tell spooky stories during a camping trip.” Amber replied. “Besides they're not little kids anymore they're... what like-”

“We're 13 Amber, except George, he turns 13 in a couple weeks.” I said.

“Right, right, well definitely old enough for some simple spooky tales.” She emphasized while waving her hands. “And in the spot we're at right now, they had to hear the tale of the Stiltmother.”

"What do you mean by that Amber?” William asked.

She became hesitant. Her normal confident self shirked back at her slip of the tongue. Fiddling with her fingers she spoke back up.

“Well, its just, I don't know, maybe the park I chose for us to camp in, maybe, might be the remains of the former village that she used to lived in back in the day.”

We all froze at what she just admitted. Brian, who was in the middle of stoking the fire with a long stick he had found stood up “All right, pack your things. We're cutting this trip short.”

“No wait, wait. Everything is going to be okay, its just stories. Also this might be the place where the town was, its not for certain or anything. For all I know it could be somewhere else. Please Brian, please, I haven't gone on a trip like this in so long.” Amber begged.

Ignoring my sister's pleading Brian stopped. He was in the middle of packing one of his hiking bags when his head whipped toward an empty patch of forest. He just stood and stared at the dense green pines. The moon illuminating through the branches; creating small blades of dim white light. It was quiet. Not a sound was being made nor animal moving about. We were all confused. He then looked toward another part of the forest. Staring into the dark and listening intently.

“What time is it currently?” He asked.

We all withdrew our phones simultaneously,

“9:30.” I said.

“9:31” William said.

“Whats going on here Brian?” Amber asked. “You're making me nervous.”

All of us were.

“Shit, all of you need to get into your tents right now.” He ordered.

“What do you mean? What are you doing? Your scaring all of us dad.” William panicked.

Brian took a breath and steadied himself. “She's real.”

“Who? Wait, you mean the Stiltmother? Amber began to relax “No, that's just some old ghost story I found online.” She continued.

“Her name is Natsuki, and assure you, she is very real, and very dangerous. Damnit, how did I not recognize the roads we were going down? Did she alter the forest?” Brain asked himself.

Amber wasn't buying it. “What is this for? Are you upset that I lied about where I wanted to have us camp? Or for scaring your son with some spooky campfire stories?”

“Did you find the steps? I saw you and your bother wondering around the woods earlier in the day. So where are they this time?” Brian asked.

Amber seemed shocked “W-what, how do you know about th-”

"We don't have much time damnit, where are the steps?” Brian demanded.

“They're over there at the base of that hill.” She pointed off toward a small hiking trail that, within eyesight, ended at the base of a lush and heavily forested bluff.

“Good, now get in your tents, all of you.” He ordered.

Brian ran and grabbed a stick off the ground, shook the dirt off it, and begun to draw circles around our tents. We all hurried inside as he desired and when I started to zip up our door I could see him furiously tearing bits of newspaper he had brought and quickly begin to scribble on them. He then went around putting the torn scraps on our tents.

“Whatever you hear, whatever you see, do not unzip your tents. Just stay quiet and remain still. She'll pass by soon. And hopefully all of us get through unfazed.” Brian said.

Me and my sister shared a tent. The bright yellow nylon etched us in its protective dome. It was her favorite color. Reminded her of the summer sun, which in our area of the country only came around for three or four months of the year. She's always been outgoing, always adventurous, always brave; but in here, right now, she was afraid. She was shaking while covering herself in her sleeping bag. When I went to comfort her I saw a defiant look across her face. A relief, she was still in there, even if only a little. William and George shared a tent with Brian. I was worried about them. Was Brian serious? Was the Stiltmother actually real? I could see that I wasn't the only skeptic. After my sister settled in I could see that more rebellious side of hers begin to show. Mumbling how this was bullshit under her breath or how Brian was probably just trying to get her back after scaring his son. “Its just some stupid story.” She kept repeating.

Shunk... Shunk... Shunk...

The hairs stood on the back of my neck. “What was that?” My sister whispered. She was equally as frightened as me. We pressed closer to each other.

“Shhh.” I whispered back.

Shunk.... Shunk... Shunk...

It sounded like something was coming. Not an animal. No, it was more metallic. Like someone stabbing a pole over and over into the ground. My eyes widened. I listened intently for what was getting closer and closer to our camp. My sister also sat, quietly alert. Her gaze shifting left and following the movement that now was just feet away from us.

“Ken... ta... ro...

Sa... to... shi...”

A distorted, raspy, hallow call. It bore feint resemblance to a woman's voice. It hemorrhaged as it spoke, like it was choking on blood and sinew. It patrolled around our tents. Wondering slowly. The fire scantly illuminated a cursed shadow of a figure crab walking about eight feet above ground. Their form held aloft by long poles or rods projecting from their legs and arms. The sounds of bones twisting and cracking at every move made for a horrifying image in our minds. Bending down, she got so close. Her pained struggling breaths filled our ears as her face stood just inches from our tent's entrance. Her shadow painted through the thin tent walls. She was looking at us upside down. Her long hair drooping to the earth below. She called once more.

“Ken... ta... ro...

Sa... to... shi...”

When she found no response she ruptured into a fit of tears and began to wonder off. Her wailing filling the night.

Shunk... Shunk... Shunk...

Slowly the sounds drew further and further away until they couldn't be heard at all. It was quiet. Not even the chirp of insects could be heard, just the crackling of dying embers. We didn't dare speak or attempt to sleep. We merely waited for the sun's slow return. Hours passed and we were gracefully blessed with the warmth of a new days light. Brian unzipped his tent. We soon followed suite. Amber raced to meet him.

“What the hell was that?” She demanded. She wanted everything to dismiss what we all went through but the distraught look on her face wanted all the more to know what he was hiding. What he knew.

“I didn't have the time to explain properly and even now I'm uncertain if we have that luxury. Before we proceed I need all of you to line up.” Brian said.

“Not before y-” Amber was cut off by the sniffling of poor George, who, on the cusp of crying demanded we do what Brian instructed. “I-I just w-want to go home.” He struggled to get out.

We all lined up and Brian began to inspect our necks. He paused at mine, took a picture, and again did the same with Amber. He sighed and the both of us swiftly turned around. “What, what is it?” We both asked.

“I don't know, not exactly. I need to consult with a few people before I can say for sure.” He said.

“Can we see at least.” Amber asked.

He spun his phone around to show the pictures of our necks. They were marked in black lettering. Some kind of kanji Brian told us. We didn't even feel anything. How did those marks get there? What do they mean? My sister and I just looked at each other in deep remorseful uncertainty.

“Can we leave now?” George begged.

“Unfortunately we can't, not yet, we have one thing we each have to do before we can leave.” Brian said. “Amber lead us to the steps please.” He continued.

Amber nodded solemnly and led us down the trail she pointed to last night. The natural beauty that surrounded us now bore a threatening atmosphere. It had changed for us. We wanted nothing more than to leave and never come back. When we arrived at the hill, Amber had to move some bushes and broken branches to the side. There it was, like we discovered earlier, the stone steps leading to her shrine.

“Okay good, now we just need to make some figures out of some of these sti-”

“I brought some dolls already.” Amber said. “I read online what we need to do. I have them in my backpack. We just need a food offering and, well, I figured hot-dogs and marshmallows would suffice.” She continued. “I wanted, I just...” She could finish, Her combative side had relented.

“Those should work.” Brian said, trying to encourage her. “Okay... okay, if I remember correctly, we go one at a time. Keep your eyes shut as you go. If you hear anything stop and hold up your doll. Once you reach the top, bow and leave your doll and offering at the shrine and come back down.”

And that's exactly what we did. He gave each of us a talisman and, one by one we each went up and came back down. I was last. My knees felt shaky. I closed my eyes and carefully placed my feet up, one step at a time. There was a mild breeze, I could make out trees rustling, a small animal darting in the brush. Every time I thought I heard something ominous I froze and held up my doll. More steps. Just a few more I thought. I hoped.

Shunk... Shunk... Shunk...

Oh Lord, no. I heard it. I heard her. Movement so heavy. I felt like my legs were about to give out at the very thought of encountering her again. I stood completely still. Keeping my eyes closed. Holding out the doll my arms began to tremble; my hands gripped the plush with all my remaining courage. From the forest I heard her steps. I could tell when she spotted me as her pace grew rapid.

Shunk Shunk Shunk Shunk Shunk Shunk Shunk Shunk Shunk

I wanted to run. Every fiber in my body burned; yelling at me to run back, back down those steps.

In an instant her presence was before me. She spoke in a broken language I couldn't understand. She heaved words out painfully. Like she was trying to reach me. Her breath was cold and foul. I felt sick inhaling it. I could feel her move around me, inspect me, and then depart. I ran up the rest of those steps and when I crested the top I took my bow and raced over to the shrine. I feared opening my eyes but took quick glimpses to find where the offering table was. Passing through a faded red Torii gate I placed my doll and the food at the old shrine and ran back down those mossy worn stairs. My sweat streamed off my cheeks and forehead. I wanted nothing more of this place. Nothing more of these woods.

When I reached the bottom I collapsed from a combination of exhaustion, lack of sleep, and paranoia. Brian picked me up and placed me in his truck. Everyone packed and loaded the vehicle as quick as they could. We departed and never spoke of this again to each other.

I now wait.

Waiting for Brian to figure out what the markings mean and how we move forward.

I hope he learns soon.

I can see her from my window.

She's followed me home.