Scary Little Man

A small and scary horror

Photo by Andrea De Santis: https://www.pexels.com/photo/buddha-statues-in-the-shadow-17323770/

Link to other authors and stories for Small and Scary:

Mom said to never play behind the house unless she or dad were there. She got real mean once when I cried and begged to go chase the dragonflies out past the tall grass just outside the back gate.

Yelled at me and made me cry even more. Twisted the skin on my cheeks and that was the end of the world right there.

She didn’t understand. It was so boring staying inside all day, watching shopping TV with grandma, listening to dad talk to grandad about politics.

Why were we even there? Tokyo was so much more fun. People everywhere and stores full of any candy you wanted at any time. And daddy would get me anything I wanted. Anytime. Anywhere.

Ever since dad lost his job, I don’t even remember what he did, we had to move back in his with his parents. I know it’s not their fault, we have to, no money and all. But come on mom, let me go outside once in a while!

“It’s not safe Mari,” mom said as she was washing the same dish she started five minutes ago.

“Why not?” I asked.

Mom didn’t answer me. Furrowed her brow and really got at that plate. I thought she’d snap it in half. She had these funny droopy eyes and crooked smile. Dad told me it was because of some accident years before I was born.

“Whhhyyy nooooot!?” I made my mouth real big and tried to show her that I was a zombie now, done in by all this boredom, even let some drool dribble out of my mouth.

“Ugh!” mom rasped out. Put the plate down and it kicked up soap suds and they floated down like a light snow. “Honey, I just can’t right now. Go play in your room.”

“It’s stuffy and boring in there—”

“Now!”

I sighed loud enough to wake the dead. Pouted and walked back to my room with head held low. Didn’t even meet grandma’s eyes as she watched me walk past the living room. Walked past all the posters in the hall with Buddhas and dragons on them. Grandma loved to pray to them all the time.

Back then at least.

I tried to make my footfall as heavy as an elephant’s. Really shake up the house and show everyone how mad I was.

Nobody cared.

I sat on my futon and played with my stuffed rabbit. Wrung its scrawny little neck and threw it across the room.

It was hot in there. Like the air was heavy and wanted to crush me into the ground in a puddle of sweat and tears.

There was no TV in the room. No games. No Wi-Fi.

Nothing.

Just the stupid rabbit and the pale wallpaper that had been warped and curled by the humidity.

I think I even saw a centipede or a cockroach—something with way too many legs—race out from under my desk and dive into a crack in the wall.

That made me shiver even in the heat.

I sat on the window sill and looked outside.

Saw the wind blow through the tall grass just like it does with my hair. Making it sway wildly.

It looked cool outside. Not hot. Not boring.

The sun was still high up and I thought there’d be plenty of time to sneak out.

Forget mom. Go have some fun. No one would ever know. I lifted up the window. It stuck a bit and I had to push real hard but I got it open.

I climbed up and jumped outside.

---

The wind was cool. The grass was soft. The dragonflies zipped by like little jet planes.

Almost caught one with my bare hands.

I couldn’t understand why mom was so scared of this place. I don’t know what the accident was that made her face funny but I do know that it happened out here. But there were no wild animals like bears around, and there were hardly any people, so maybe she just fell into a ditch or something. I could be more careful than that.

I looked back at the house and could still see it. There were a few pine trees and the tall bushes on either side of the rusted gate, all of them kind of blocking my view of the house, but I could still see it.

So I was safe.

So I thought.

“Ow!” I yelled as I stubbed my toe against something hard. I had been wearing sandals. I bent down and grabbed my toes. Tears spilled out of eyes and my lips quivered.

Suddenly it wasn’t so fun.

I bent down further into the grass to check my toes.

And saw a face.

“Ah!”

I fell backwards and landed on my butt.

The face stared out at me through the grass.

It was a tiny statue of Buddha. I had seen hundreds of them before out in the countryside, lining roads, dotting shrines and temples. Dad told me they were supposed to watch over people and keep them safe.

I always thought they were creepy.

This one… moss covered its rounded face. Its lips were pursed like it was trying to smile but forgot what it was doing halfway. Its head cocked to the side like a dog listening to something.

A scary little man he was.

I knew it was a statue. Just like so many others I’d seen.

Dead. Dumb. Blind. Immobile.

But the way that it looked at me made me feel like it was about to blink.

I noticed a smudge of red on its forehead. Took me awhile to figure out what it was.

My blood.

I looked down at my right big toe and saw the blood dripping down onto the mud. I had smeared it on the statue’s head when I kicked it.

Shadows spilled down that rounded face. A shade of red splashed across its eyes and smile. Soon the face was black save for the reddish smudge of my blood. I realized the sun was setting and that’s what made it look like a monster. I shouldn’t have been scared, I knew what was happening—I was freakin’ ten years old c’mon I understood how the sun works—but still… every hair on my neck stood up like spikes and my blood went frosty.

I got to my feet. Never taking my eyes off that little face. I turned to walk home. Calmly. Not to bring any attention to me.

I walked through the tall grass. Some fireflies were dancing in between the blades. Frogs were croaking and the crickets were singing.

I made it to the rusted gate and pushed it open.

Creeeak.

I saw the back door to the house lit up by the yellow light that hung over it. Some moths were circling around it.

Home. I was safe.

Swish swish swish.

I froze. The sound stopped. The wind was blowing so it was just the grass rubbing against each other right?

Or footsteps.

Swish swish swish.

I ran all the way back to the house and flew inside.

---

That night I lay in my futon while everyone else was asleep. Dinner was alright. Udon and grilled mackerel and some pickled radishes. I didn’t taste any of it. Mom asked me if I was alright.

“Yeah,” I said.

She narrowed her droopy eyes at me and slurped up a noodle.

She knew. I could tell in her eyes, she knew I went out there. But she didn’t say anything about it.

“As long as you’re safe, I’m happy,” mom said.

I sighed. That was such a weird thing to say.

Dad was oblivious to my mood and grandma and grandpa just watched TV. I did notice mom light up some incense by grandma’s Buddha altar in the kitchen after dinner and she prayed. She never did that before. Another point for weirdness.

I went to bed hours ago but couldn’t fall asleep.

I kept seeing that round face and pursed lips in my mind. With my blood all over its forehead.

My toe still throbbed but I put a bandage on it. Nobody noticed it.

I think I fell asleep once. Saw the statue sitting on my chest with the weight of the world. Staring at me in the dark. I woke up crying but nothing was there.

I dried my eyes with my blanket and stared at my window. The curtains were drawn and I could see that yellow light from the back door painting an electric edge to it.

The wood frame of the house groaned just like grandpa does when he tries to get out of his chair.

It’s okay Mari, it’s just a stupid statue. It’s not coming to get you. It didn’t taste your blood and it doesn’t want some more.

Or maybe it does.

Scratching on wood. Skittering across the floor.

I sucked in my breath and felt my lungs balloon.

Just the cockroach I saw earlier. I hated bugs but that thought made me feel better somehow.

My stuffed bunny sitting at the foot of my futon fell over.

I sat up with my back against the wall. Pulled the covers up to my face like it could protect me.

The room was too dark to see anything past the futon. The room was a lake of black and my bed was the life preserve floating above the abyss. All I could see was the dim yellow light by the window.

It was open now.

Something was standing on the sill.

I saw it out of the corner of my eye. I was shaking. Crying but no sound was coming out. My heart felt like it was going to crack my ribs. I couldn’t, just couldn’t, turn my head fully so I could see what it was.

But its head was round.

And it was small.

I saw it jump off the window into the outside.

I screamed.

Dad rushed it and flipped on my lights. Grandma and grandpa came in moments later. Dad scooped me up in his arms and I was still screaming.

“Hey it’s okay, what happened?” he asked as he parted my tear stained hair out of my face.

His voice made me feel safe. I promised myself then to never take that for granted.

Before I told him, I looked around the room.

Where was mom? Surely she would have come in right when dad did. Definitely before grandpa and grandma could.

Dad must have seen that question in my eyes.

He looked out into the dark hallway and said, “Honey—”

Her screams cut him short. Grandpa led the way, refused to let dad in front as he was still carrying me. Grandma handled her juzu beads and prayed fervently. Her eyes were wide and glassy.

Mom stopped screaming. We stood in front of her bedroom. Grandpa was in the way but I could mostly see what was happening. The door was open. There was a small shadow past him, it looked like it was breathing, or pulsing, maybe even growing.

“Stop,” grandpa commanded. He was standing just inside the dark bedroom.

Dad put me on the floor and grandma held my hand. Dad rushed into the room. And then he was screaming too.

---

They never found mom. They didn’t let me see what was in that bedroom and even now, all these years later, dad still won’t tell me.

All I know is that mom wasn’t in that room. But something else was. Why else did dad scream and grandpa slam that door shut? Banging on the walls, shouting, and furniture getting knocked over were what I heard.

But if mom wasn’t in there? Why were they acting like that? Like something was in there…

The next day a priest from the nearby shrine came and waved some branches around the house. Some monks too. They lit incense and chanted in mom’s room.

I don’t remember seeing any police in those first few days, though. My family said nothing to me. I cried constantly. Not loud enough for them to hear, but enough to not let me forget her.

I went back to the tall grass maybe five days after mom went missing. It had to be that scary little man that did it, I just know it. I searched for the spot where I kicked him but couldn’t find him.

Half of me was relieved but the other half came whispering in my ear, Then where’d he go?

I got on my hands and knees and brushed away the grass.

“Give her back to me! Give her back!”

My hand hit something hard and I felt a prick on my right thumb. Terror and hope lit up my heart. I moved the grass away from what I hit and let out a choked sob.

It was a little statue.

Not of the scary little man.

It was a woman.

With droopy eyes and a crooked smile.