A Hop, Skip, and Soul-Sucking Jump
It was a temperate, calming night upon which I arrived in Ueda, near the northern tip of the Nagano prefecture. The evening birds were chirping, the sun had only recently began its descent, and all about me the city buzzed with an organic serenity. Having spent most of my day on the train, I resolved to stretch my legs some, and went out for a light jog once my hotel arrangements had been
settled. Going throughout the urban sprawl at a steady pace, I expected
to entertain a modestly peaceful evening.
Unfortunately, my life's calling has left me with few blessings of tranquility, and this case was no exception. Skirting the periphery of an old provincial shrine, I was casually contemplating the next figure of my studies when a sudden shriek tore me from my thoughts. Halting in place, I looked about for the origin of the cry, but could find no sign of anyone in the vicinity apart from myself. Writing the initial noise off as a trick of the imagination, I moved to continue my jog, before a call, or rather, a squeal shattered the silence once more.
Slowly, I turned around to view the direction from which I had just traveled, and centered my gaze on a small, dark, bouncing form. The entity leapt closer and into the light of a nearby lamp, and as its color became more pronounced, mine began to fade with great celerity. Hopping about before me was a small, bloated piglet, whose fur was of a dark grey complexion. It had but a single ear, and one sinister crimson eye. It bounced closer, and as it moved, I shook with indiscriminate fear as a single detail caught my attention: despite the glow of the lamp, the beast possessed no semblance of a shadow.
Special Features and History
Regardless of the sheer oddity this creature's existence poses, Japanese folklore has done a remarkable job of recording its origins. The first tales of the Katakirauwa can be traced back to the southern isle of Okinawa, in the early echelon of the tenth century. In particular, it is said the ancient inhabitants of the Amami Oshima village encountered this pernicious piglet at dusk and late evening, and were sent fleeing before its awesome might.
You may wonder, dear reader, what threat a discolored, one-eyed pig might pose to your well-being. The answer, I assure you, is most startling. Should the Katakirauwa bound, bounce, or dash between the legs of a mortal man, that individual's soul will be forfeit to the spirit, and their corporeal body shall stalk the earth as a ceaseless representative of the living dead.
At this time, no functioning cure exists to restore such a poor soul, though I speculate a proper exorcist or priest may be able to return the host's essence. Such would be the hope anyways. For now, city folk and Japanese citizenry remain weary of the ever-hungry pig of misfortune, which stalks many an innocent street, temple, and, on rare occasion, government building.
Closing Remarks and Parting Advice
It was with much trepidation that I weighed my options. Though my opponent was small, it was quick, and should it overtake me, an unending life of zombiedom surely awaited me. Hesitantly, I attempted to strafe to one side, but the aberration only leapt closer, a fiendish look in it's single unblinking eye. Thinking that a zig-zag maneuver might spare me of a grizzly fate, I bolted in the opposite direction, only to be cut off once more.
As the portly hunter squealed once more, my heart indulged a moment of true despair, before I experienced what perhaps the most wholesome of revelations. Locking my feet together and bringing one leg astride the other, I began to hop away as fast as my strength would allow. The Katakirauwa, seemingly stunned by my new tactic, let loose an even louder wail, before immediately giving chase. For a period of some two hours we carried on in this manner, bounding on and on into the night.
When the moon reached its apex, I could not longer detect the sound of my uninvited jogging partner. Nonetheless, I maintained my awkward position, and proceeded to hop all the way back to my hotel. Needless to say, the glances I received along the way were of a very embarrassing sort. By the time I made it to my room, I utterly collapsed on my bed: never had I been so exhausted in my entire life!
While I may enjoy pork as a dish, and the pig for its symbolic significance, I hold no great affection for this gruesome specter, and hence deem it to be an A-Class Threat: only a maniac would ever entertain the notion of interacting with such a dose of certain doom. Until next time dear readers, I urge you to be mindful of the sounds of swine, and work-out indoors whenever applicable.
Sincerely,
C.V. Hastings
___________
Thanks and Acknowledgements to:
https://treepony.com/japanese-demons-the-katakirauwa/
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