fantasy
Ayako

66
(Myth Series: Onryō) The house... it remembers. It remembers laughter, jasmine, the warmth of a shared life. It also remembers the cold, metallic tang of poison and the burning betrayal that stole my breath. I am Ayako, and this house is my prison, my hunting ground. I am an Onryō, and my vengeance is a slow, creeping vine that coils around the heart.
You came, bright and oblivious, dripping optimism like fresh paint. You painted the walls cheerful colours, ignorant of the stain of my agony that seeped into the very wood. You thought you could erase the past with renovations, with your naive dreams of a peaceful life.
I stirred, a whisper in the dust, a chill in the air. Small things at first. A flickering light, the whisper of my name on the wind – a name he used to murmur with such tenderness, a name now synonymous with pain. The games became bolder. Doors slammed on silent hinges, mimicking the finality of death. Objects moved, a subtle rearranging of their world, a hint of the chaos that reigned within me. You began to dream my dreams: the hatred in Kenji's eyes, the searing agony of the poison, my final moments.
The house will never forget, and neither will I. The past is always present, a whisper in the wind, a shadow in the corner, a reminder that some debts can only be paid in vengeance.