Disclaimer: This contains language that is potentially esoteric in nature.

The Recluse Edit

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I opened the cupboard in the decrepit shack to look for any tea leaves. As I rummaged through the old assortments I came to the conclusion that the tea was long gone. Someone could’ve quenched themselves, here in this now isolated shack on this god-forsaken mining town. But who, I haven’t touched this cupboard in three days and additionally there were tea leaves prior to this odd discovery. My goodness, don’t tell me I have a poltergeist lurking around my old shack. I chuckled at the very thought of an intangible foe or a parched pilferer trying to feed his hunger for wealth. For Hashima Island was abandoned for 35 years, everyone left after the old automobile company closed the mining facility.

Friends would always drop by sporadically, often giving me much needed provisions. Many people also visited the alienated mining town as tourists and ghost hunters. Aha! Perhaps it was one of those bloody tourists or gullible ghost buffoons! As if desecration wasn’t already enough, they are starting to take belongings of mine. Bah, I didn’t care a tick, for I had protection. Yes, for the friends and a handful passersby who wonder off alone, their pale yet immortal presence in a corporeal but feeble form would probably fend of these unwanted.

Of course, their bodies would gradually stink up the place and make it rather unpleasant. To top it all off, most of them grew rather tedious. Their voices are all but lost in oblivion after a while. Therefore I would dispose of them deep within the catacombs of the island. All of them will always be mourned to release their troubled souls closer to the divine excellence.

You might be wondering, what of nosy investigators who try to seek the souls of the wandering travelers? They’ve also been added to my arsenal but with much difficulty. You see, they would constantly instigate a difficult skirmish. And when such a skirmish ended in triumph on my side, they were then added to my magnificent collection. Not only did I utilize their bodies to defend myself, they also offered wonderful sustenance. To be frank, it was sourer than my acquaintances’ provisions, probably because no one bereaved them.

I wondered about the tea leaves once more while eating the flesh of the latest provider. My curiosity overwhelmed my sense of hesitation for I had to find out who the brilliant thief was. Having eluded me for this long is quite a record for an insect. With pickaxe at hand and a lantern on the other, I decided to survey the island, trying to locate and exterminate the annoying little parasite that clearly didn’t learn any manners from his or her parents. From the dilapidating buildings to the dried-out well, from east to west and north to south, there was nothing but decaying ruins.

After a moment, I came to a realization, the catacombs! With glee, I sprinted towards the cavern’s entrance. I held my lantern up high and walked in the caverns with apprehensive behavior. Although dusk follows, this would be the perfect moment for the culprit. Hiding in the darkened chambers when death is inevitable is quite commendable. I reached the end of the tunnels, where the blacksmiths and miners left off prior to desertion. Alas, I’ve found nothing but the skulls of my friends and leftover unrefined coal.

All of the sudden I turned and surprisingly I see a cadaver of an old acquaintance! However, the man had decaying flesh and missing limbs. To my astonishment, I question what tomfoolery is this? I tried to run away from the undead creature and reach to the entrance of the catacombs. With a quick glance backward at the entrance to the tunnel, the living corpse seemed to be nothing but a misapprehension. But as my trek seemed to conclude, there is suddenly a rather unpleasant display of rotting corpses in front of me. I fell to the ground and questioned their intentions.

A man with a blinding face stepped forth and said, “You have shown no mercy, therefore we shall do the same.”

The DiscoveryEdit

The fate of the deranged man was recorded by the Japanese Militants in attempts to clear the island.

My fellow soldier walked towards a deteriorating building that was filled with mummified husks of corpses which resembled that of scarecrows. We walked over to an abandoned shack to find a cupboard left open and a tea kettle on a makeshift stove. There was an abundance of bloodied pickaxes and knives which settled on one side of the room. On one side we found bones of what seemed to be human and a skull contained within a jar filled with alcohol. Subsequent to the grotesque discoveries, there were chambers where bodies were contained. A putrid stench was emanating from this island that most of my comrades vomited uncontrollably. We eventually located a live unfortunate, who looked as if he was attacked. My medical unit asked if he was alright and asked what happened.

The man questioned, “My tea leaves in my home, where could they have gone?”

I remembered something as the man gradually dies before my platoon. The cupboard within the threadbare shack had tea leaves situated on a noticeable position. I told this to the bewildered man and he became overwhelmed by such information. He died with his last words being, “And so, the hunter has become the hunted. An eye for an eye has been served and mercy has not been given at both sides.”

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