"Another day to waste away," The woman spoke, her voice groggy and tired. Looking into the mirror, her hair was a mess.
She sighed and stepped away from the mirror, drifting out of the bathroom. Her apartment was small. It had a kitchen and a bathroom, and one big room for everything else.
She glanced at the piling trash, before crawling back onto her futon, turning on her TV.
The screen flickered across the dark room. A news reporter talking about the weather, how a criminal was caught after murdering someone, and going about local businesses.
A commercial aired, an anime, of a woman who lives with dragon girls.
The woman switched channels, not having a thought in her head. She curled up slightly.
"Exhausting…"
Just then there was a knock on her door. With a sigh, she got up, stumbling her way to the door. It was a police officer.
"Ma'am. We apologize for coming here, but one of your neighbors called. Wanted us to check on you."
"Right… Right, I'm fine. I appreciate the gesture."
As she spoke, she saw the policeman's gaze looking not at her face, but her body.
Well, I suppose this is what I get for wearing nothing but a shirt and some underwear.
Without another word, she closed the door. And soon after, she heard the conversation on the other side.
"Probably a hikikomori. But if she wants to waste her life, then—"
You're right. I am wasting my life. That's the point. The woman thought to herself, laying down once more.
After some time, the woman checked her phone. It was now 9:00pm, and she had one new message.
"If you need to talk, just remember I'm here for you."
The woman sighed indignantly, putting her phone down.
She doesn't really care. She's my landlord, and I'm costing her money. She thought bitterly to herself as she got up. She walked to the refrigerator, grabbing a couple slices of bread and a can of beer before going back to her futon and sitting down.
The woman grabbed the beer, and opened it, before sipping its bitter contents. Her other hand on the remote, she flipped through channels until she found an anime.
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"— waste away."
The woman stepped away from the mirror, her tone more bitter as she repeated her words from yesterday. She stumbled out of the bathroom, collapsing onto the futon, exhausted. She didn't bother with the TV today, it was too much noise for a day like this. She closed her eyes, wanting to sleep for the day.
Or rather, she didn't want to sleep. She didn't want to be awake, nor move, nor be still. She shifted to gaze at the bland ceiling, the light she never turned on, thinking about the past.
I've wasted my life. I had all the opportunity in the world, and now I'm just a pathetic shell. I can't even bring myself to talk to mom and dad, what would they think?
She quickly dismissed that thought, Just… Shut up. You're pathetic because you're pretending. You're a grown up, and yet you act like a fucking child.
She turned her head, looking at the TV despite it being off. A few moments went by before she decided to get up, shambling towards the bathroom. Stripping off her clothes, she looked at herself in the mirror. Skinny was one word to call her, but ghoulish would have fit better.
"... I'll probably have to talk to someone about my nightmares," the woman told herself.
On her body were various small scars. It wasn't every day, but she'd often have nightmares of various creatures from folklore, and her body often moved in her sleep. She adored her country's folklore, and before graduation, she learned so much about it.
The woman let out a dejected sigh before sluggishly entering the shower, letting nothing but static enter her mind.
"— waste away."
The woman stepped away from the mirror, laying in bed.
"— waste away."
The woman chugged a beer, avoiding the mirror.
"— waste."
The woman went into the kitchen, going to sleep.
"— waste."
The woman turned on the TV, looking into the mirror.
"... Stop."
The woman opened a beer.
"Stop it."
The woman peered into the mirror.
"Just STOP!!!"
The woman breathed heavily, looking at her disheveled appearance in the mirror. She felt herself unraveling, as she could barely remember the last two weeks. They blended together for her, fragments of what she did in no discernable order.
After grounding herself, the woman stepped out of the bathroom, and grabbed her wallet. She needed some fresh air, something to break the mundanity of her pitiful life.
As her feet hit the concrete, she took a deep breath, the sun was setting, painting a beautiful view amidst the towering buildings. How long had it been since she's gone outside, she didn't remember.
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"— and it'll be fun, I promise," a man said.
The man was tall and slender, with short hair dyed blonde. He had a piercing on his left ear, and it was clear to the woman he was nothing but trouble. She took a sip of her beer, but gave no response.
"C'mon babe, no need to be shy," the man sneered. His hand worked its way to her breast, her body jumping instinctively from the contact, her knees pressed together.
I… I should get him to stop.
"So, whaddya say? Just test the waters, I pay for drinks, and we have a little fun and see if you wanna head back to my place?" he asked, gripping slightly harder.
"S… Sure," She said hesitantly.
I shouldn't want this. This is a mistake. But… But maybe it'll break the mundanity.
The man soon became more aggressive with his touches. His lips pressed against hers, stifling whatever noise escaped her throat. Everything blurred—hands, heat, pressure, a rhythm she didn't start but didn't stop, his fingers violating her most intimate areas, and a scent lingered that felt almost familiar. To her, it was a haze. She vaguely remembered being at the bar, then clutching the sheets, the man looming over her, both of them sweating, then her back arching, her legs twitching uncontrollably. Then, the running shower, dressing herself again. She stepped out of the cold night air, shame looming over her, her clothes clinging to her damp skin.
"Well… Suppose this is better than nothing. At least I got outside…" she murmured to herself, trying to justify her actions to herself. Lost in thought, she wandered the labyrinth of the night.
And then—a short, sharp yip. She jolted back, looking where the sound came from, her eyes peering towards the grass to see a short orange creature. A fox, with a bird below it, the fox lowering its head to devour the bird.
The woman turned her head. It was a part of nature, a darker side of nature not many liked to talk about.
As she finally arrived back in the confines of her apartment, she collapsed on the futon, exhausted from trying. Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander into dreams.
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It was cold, and dark. The ground was damp, a thin layer of water clung to every step. She walked. And walked.
And walked.
And then—a wall, a wall with no texture. A light soon shone, the moon, illuminating the area. The woman was at a shrine, an inari shrine. The shrine looked abandoned, vines and moss constricted the building, plaguing the statues, and dripped over the torii. Something of a vermillion color caught her eye.
The woman walked to the vermillion object, grabbing it. It was an obi, soaked from the water below.
Then a shriek pierced the air, the woman's heart pulsating rapidly. And then, a ritualistic, ceremonious and haunting song filled the air.
The woman, paralyzed where she stood, looked away from the shrine, her eyes wandering to the empty field outside. where she spotted a wild kitsune, her kimono undone, eating. At first, she couldn't make it out, until the kitsune tore into something. It was a body, her body.
The woman frantically looked down, bite marks and bits of flesh were missing from her, her intestines spilling out, but she was soon drawn back to the fox woman with a yip.
"Ah, it feels so good, don't you feel loved, headless one?" The kitsune asked, her face and her body painted red.
Headless one?
The woman raised her hands to her head, or where it should have been. Instead, nothing was there, and her neck became itchy. So itchy. The woman began to scratch her neck, but it wasn't enough. Fingernails scraping on the bone, she scratched vigorously, hoping to relieve herself of such a curse.
The fox woman laughed, "Isn't it wonderful? We're becoming one. Your desire, to be intimate? We will soon be together, body and soul."
Scratching, itching, scraping, the woman couldn't stop, her fingernails broke off her fingers slowly, the friction of bone and the music and the laughter becoming louder, she felt a pounding sensation where her head should have been.
She began to run frantically, through a crowd of the fox people, all of whom cackled at her. The faster she ran, the louder the mocking laughter got, until suddenly, she fell over.
One of her legs, detached from her body, laid in the street, as a dozen of the fox folk darted to it, tearing into it with their sharp teeth.
She crawled, clawing the wet ground, further, further, into a building. The candlelight dimly illuminated the room, and on a pedestal, rested her head, smiling at her. She stared at the ceiling, until a familiar hand caressed her arm. The itchy sensation pricked her neck once more, and again, she began to scratch, more and more, as the fox woman loomed over her. Her gaze was sinister, alluring, lethal.
"Now, now. There's no need to run. I'm giving you what you want after all, a purpose in your pitiful life," the fox woman cooed, biting into her neck, her hand grasping the woman's body sensually, painfully. Until finally, her vision faded to nothing.
The woman woke up with a gasp, her back arched, her hands moving on their own, scratching her neck. It was painful for the brief moment her own body betrayed her. She took some time to collect her thoughts, before finally getting up and shambling her way to the bathroom, grabbing her first-aid kit. She had scratched her neck enough in her sleep to cause bleeding.
"... Maybe I'll see who I can talk to about these nightmares."