Hassyaku-sama is a legendary horror story that was posted on the "Sharekowa" (Let's gather scary stories that are not at all funny) section of 2chan in 2008.
The tale speaks of Hachishaku-sama, a being with a height of eight shaku (approximately 240cm), who emits a mysterious sound, "popopopo..." What happens if one becomes entranced by her remains a chilling mystery...
Even now, the undying terror of Hachishaku-sama continues to influence various works.
My father's family home is located about two hours away by car from our house. It's a farmhouse, and I've always loved its ambiance. Once I started riding a motorcycle in high school, I often visited alone during summer and winter breaks. My grandparents were always delighted to see me. However, I haven't been there for over ten years. It's not that I didn't want to go, but rather I couldn't, and here's why:
During the early days of spring break, I rode my bike to my grandparents' house on a fine day. Although it was still chilly, the veranda was warm and cozy. As I relaxed, I heard a strange sound:
"popo, popoppo, po, pop..."
It didn't sound mechanical but rather like a human voice. It was somewhere between a muffled and a semi-muffled sound. As I wondered about it, I noticed a hat moving above the garden hedge. It wasn't placed there; it was moving horizontally. As it reached a gap in the hedge, I saw a woman wearing the hat. She was dressed in a pale-colored dress.
However, the hedge was about two meters tall. How tall must this woman be to peer over it? As I stared in surprise, she moved out of sight, and the hat disappeared. The "popopopo" sound also vanished.
At that moment, I thought maybe a tall woman was wearing platform boots, or a tall man dressed as a woman was wearing high heels.
Later, while having tea in the living room, I told my grandparents about the tall woman I saw. They didn't react much until I mentioned her height and the strange "popopopo" sound. Suddenly, they froze.
My grandfather, with a stern face, bombarded me with questions about when and where I saw her. After answering, he made a phone call. My grandmother seemed to tremble.
After the call, my grandfather said, "Stay here tonight. You can't leave now." I wondered if I had done something terribly wrong.
He then told my grandmother to take care of things and left in his truck.
My grandmother, with a shaky voice, explained that I might have been enchanted by "Hassyaku-sama". She then shared the legend of Hassyaku-sama, a tall woman who emits a strange laugh and can appear differently to different people. She was said to have been sealed in this area by a deity and would kill anyone she enchanted within a few days.
I was then taken to a room with windows covered in newspaper and talismans. There were salt piles in each corner and a small Buddha statue. I was told to stay there until 7 am and not to leave no matter what.
That night, I heard a tapping sound on the window. Terrified, I turned up the TV volume and tried to distract myself.
At that moment, I heard my grandfather's voice. "Hey, are you okay? If you're scared, you don't have to push yourself." I instinctively approached the door, but immediately remembered my grandfather's words. Then, another voice echoed. "What's wrong? You can come here."
It sounded incredibly similar to my grandfather's voice, but I was certain it wasn't his. I couldn't explain why, but I felt it deep down, and goosebumps covered my entire body. Glancing at the corner, I noticed the salt had turned black.
I quickly sat in front of the Buddha statue, tightly gripping the talisman, and began praying desperately.
Then,
"Po-po-po, po, po-po..."
That eerie voice returned, and the window started tapping rhythmically. Although I knew the entity wasn't tall enough to reach the window, I couldn't shake the image of it stretching its arms from below. All I could do was pray to the Buddha statue.
The night felt endless, but eventually morning came. The TV, which had been left on, was now broadcasting the morning news. The time displayed was 7:13 AM. The tapping and the voice had ceased at some point. I must have fallen asleep or fainted. The salt had turned even blacker.
Checking my own watch confirmed the time, so I cautiously opened the door. My grandmother and Ms. K, looking worried, were waiting outside. My grandmother shed tears of relief.
Downstairs, my father had arrived. My grandfather, peeking from outside, urged, "Get in the car quickly." In the yard, there was a van, and several men were gathered.
The van seated nine. I was placed in the middle, with Ms. K in the passenger seat. The men from the yard filled the remaining seats, surrounding me.
"We're in a tight spot. Keep your eyes closed and look down. We might not see it, but you will. Don't open your eyes until I say so," said the man next to me.
The convoy, led by my grandfather's truck, followed by the van I was in, and then my father's car, moved out. We drove slowly, probably not exceeding 20 km/h.
Soon, Ms. K murmured, "This is the crucial moment," and began chanting.
"Po-po-po, po, po-po..."
That voice was back. I clutched the talisman Ms. K had given me, keeping my eyes shut and looking down. But I couldn't resist peeking slightly.
I saw a pale dress moving alongside the car. It was trying to keep pace. Its head was above the window, out of view. But it seemed to be trying to peer inside.
I gasped involuntarily. "Don't look!" the man beside me shouted.
I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the talisman even tighter.
Tap, tap, tap. The tapping on the glass resumed.
The men in the van made various noises of distress. Even if they couldn't see or hear the entity, they could hear the tapping. Ms. K's chanting grew more intense.
Eventually, the voice and tapping stopped. Ms. K exclaimed, "We've successfully evaded it." The men around me sighed in relief.
Soon, the convoy stopped. I was transferred to my father's car. As my father and grandfather thanked the other men, Ms. K approached and said, "Show me the talisman." It had turned black. She handed me a new one, saying, "Keep this with you, just in case."
On the way home, my father shared that he knew about the entity. One of his childhood friends had been ensnared by it and lost his life. He also knew others who had moved away because of it.
The men in the van were all related to my grandfather, however distantly. The convoy was arranged to distract the entity. If things went south, my grandfather or father was prepared to sacrifice themselves.
After explaining everything, they sternly warned me never to return there.
When I called my grandfather later, he denied calling out to me that night. The realization sent chills down my spine.
Most victims of the entity are young, especially children. In moments of extreme fear, if they hear a familiar voice, they might let their guard down.
A decade later, when I'd almost forgotten the incident, I received a disturbing epilogue.
"The statue sealing the entity was destroyed by someone. And it was the one on the path to your house," my grandmother informed me over the phone. (My grandfather had passed away two years prior, and I wasn't allowed to attend his funeral.)
Even now, I try to convince myself it's just superstition. But the thought of hearing that "po-po-po" voice again terrifies me.