File:Mystery Tape.jpg
The message you are about to read is straight from a tape I had found while connecting a flight from Texas to Australia on a trip with my friends. We stopped in Japan for a few hours, and scoured the airport, picking up some Japanese and a few dirty looks. Although I don’t know if this is a prank, or true.

I was in Sapporo, Japan. I had recently started working there. I was hired to test the software and create prototypes for any new sound systems for Crypton. Moving from America to Japan was a big difference; I didn’t see as much water as in Maryland. It was extremely modern in clean in some parts, and the architecture was amazing. Although, I did see a few awkward places. The people were kind, some of them spoke English, other than that, I was an amateur in Japanese, and pretty much alone in the friends’ category.

My apartment was mostly white, but small. It had an oak door, pure white walls, and after I decorated, I had a twin bed right by the window, and a high-tech desktop horizontal from the bed. White couches, and an oak table, where I could sit and chat with my to-be friends, while a 30 inch flat screen TV hummed quietly. I was relatively wealthy in Japan after I converted my American money into yen.

I had recently turned 21, therefore they hired me for my software knowledge I had learned in college. On my second day of working at Crypton, Hiroyuki Ito, CEO of Crypton, had a meeting in his office. Since we were approaching 2009, we had to come up with new ideas for the company.

“What are your ideas, Sakura-Chan?” Hiroyuki asked me in perfect Japanese.

I blushed at the nickname he had given me on my first day.

“Well, since we are approaching 2009, I’d think we should focus on our Vocaloid content. Maybe create a few, and make their age range larger, to attract more of a crowd. Most likely our popularity rate will boost.”

“You have a good point.” He said wisely.

“What about a variation of KAITO or MEIKO?” the senior artist asked.

“Or, completely new.” A voice recorder added.

“Well, we’d like to make more male, since it’s outbalanced.” Another artist asked.

“I think we should go for younger vocaloids.” I said biting my lip.

“Well, we’re running out of voice providers.” Hiroyuki said finally.

“What do you mean? We can just hire more.” I said tensely.

“But-“he started, and then quieted.

“We might not have enough money.” He said after a pause.

Silence filled the room for at least a minute.

Nervous looks were thrown across the room. I glanced at the only other female intern in the meeting, and her eyes returned a sad look, while her face was quiet and normal. I raised my eyebrows at her. She rolled her eyes and pointed at Hiroyuki, then drew an imaginary knife across her neck. I stared. She shook her head, translating to “never mind”.

“Good talk. Off, now.” Hiroyuki insisted.

“Asha.” The girl asked.

“Yeah?” I answered, turning around.

She paused.

“There’s a meeting at 5 to review some songs. Be there, alright?”

“Sure. Wait, what’s your name again?” I asked her.


I never forgot the terrified look in her eyes.

5:25, Character Development Room, Crypton Future Media.

“We’ve come up with 2 at the moment. Luka, or Ruka Megurine, and Sonika.” Our senior art director said.

“Yu Asawaka for Luka, and we don’t yet have one for Sonika.” A voice director added.

“Okay, let’s hear it.” I said gnawing on the eraser of my pencil.

Amaya clicked play on the desktop, and immediately music quietly filled the room.

An eerie melody started up, immediately pricking up my senses. A PV was playing on the desktop, creepy, and extremely blurry. It showed a girl with long ragged teal pigtails, and a girl with long flowing pink hair. I stared at the screen.

I'm sorry Luka. I can't take it anymore.."

I saw the girl with the pink hair, smiling and laughing with KAITO. I assumed she was Luka. Then raggedy hair was in the shadows, holding a pair of sharp, long scissors, a maniacal look in her eyes. That wasn’t even the weirdest part. She was swearing as she sung. Of course, this was BEFORE the release of the Scissoroid song, making it even creepier. Perhaps it was a sublimal message.

A few more minutes into the song, it got to the weirdest point. “Have you previewed this, Amaya?” I asked her.

“No, actually.” She said. I watched as the quality got better with ever second.

By now, the quality was real life, and Luka was a pale skinned Japanese girl, and Miku was a maniacal girl,her jet black hair shiny with sweat. Miku cornered Luka, holding her scissors. Luka was crying now, viciously, pleading her to stop. Miku ripped open Luka’s stomach with the scissors, and began cutting away at the insides. Miku sung louder with every organ she ripped out. You could she Luka was still alive, but in severe pain as her eyes rolled into her head. Blood was splattering against the wall. Miku peeled the skin of the rib cage, and looked at the weakly beating heart.

Then she quietly started singing a melody as she cut away at the ribs. As Miku carved a circle with her scissors, she retrieved a sharp knife with a leather hold. When the heart was exposed, Miku lifted the knife and plunged it into her heart, making a little slip noise. Luka’s head went limp, as Miku pulled out her heart with her bare hands and held it in the air.

She threw it onto the ground, and slashed at Luka’s throat, ripping out her vocal chords and voice box, bloody saliva on it. Miku finished the song with a blood curdling scream, then the screen went black, and the desktop the disk was in sparked and exploded. I stood there, my mouth frozen. Amaya had already ran out of the room, sobbing. I looked at the senior editor. He gave me a blank look. I ran out of the room, after Amaya.

“AMAYA!” I screamed as I ran. She plunged into the recording studio, and the door flew open as her force let me get through the door without pushing it myself.

“Amaya, you knew about this didn’t you?!” I said breathing heavily.

She nodded, taking deep breaths as she cried.

“Look, who is the girl who was murdered?” I tried in my best Japanese.

“Akira.” She said stuttering as she wept.

“How did you know her?” I asked her.

She pointed through the glass of the recording room.

I almost threw up a little in my mouth.

I stared at the 12 men and women lined up on the wall, slumped against the wall, and dried blood splattered all over their clothes, their chest ripped open and their organs missing. They must’ve been in their early twenties. Although they were mangled, I recognized Luka from the video. Her mouth was open, and her throat slashed and ripped.

“Is this how..” I asked her quietly.

“Yes.. It is...the ones they put out for meetings are the clones they made from taking their DNA and recreating them.” She said trying to stop her tears. The sight was too vile, I turned around and retched. After 3 to 4 minutes of puking, I walked to Hiroyuki’s office and told him I was resigning.

Right now, as I leave this tape at the airport I’m at right now, I hope someone will never find it so they do not need to imagine these things.

Even as you are listening to this, I am sorry for the visual pain I caused you.


Asha Singh

The tape just stops there. I don’t know what to think of it.