You and your four closest friends are on a school field trip to Japan. Despite the international nature of the trip, only about 50 students signed up, including you and your group. After a long seven-hour flight, you finally arrive and are greeted by ten locals offering snacks and drinks. One kind woman places a flower necklace around your neck, and you gladly wear it, excited by the experience, unlike most of your classmates. The vibrant streets are filled with cheerful people, and the vendors hand out small gifts. After hours of walking, you return to your hotel to relax.

That’s when your friends burst in, eager to tell you the eerie urban legend of The Phantom Ronin. She was once the greatest warrior of her time, but betrayal led to her wrath, which is said to haunt the living forever. Intrigued but nervous, your friends suggest an adventure to test the legend by visiting an abandoned location rumored to be haunted by her spirit. Reluctantly, you agree.

Twenty minutes later, your group arrives at the eerie site. The atmosphere is heavy and unsettling, with strange noises in the distance. Despite the tension, your group jokes around, dismissing the growing unease. But then, the silence is shattered—police officers storm the building, their urgent voices sounding serious, but you can’t understand them. Panic sets in, and you hide in a small room, your heart racing.

Then, the screaming starts—terrifying, raw cries of both your friends and the officers. It stops suddenly, leaving a suffocating silence. Trembling, you step out, flashlight in hand. The dim light reveals a gruesome scene—lifeless bodies scattered across the room, torn apart. A cold chill races down your spine.

Then you feel it.

An enormous hand, nearly the size of your head, presses down on your skull.