Kuchisake-onna, or the slit-mouthed woman.
A vicious spirit with her face covered with a mask. She stared back at young Shiro from
the book of Japanese folk tales and legends, and he wanted to know more. Who
was she? Why was she full of rage? And what was under the mask? Shiro’s mother Hina was a devout
woman who believed in the old ways, and she tried to pass them on to her son through
stories. A strong believer in the spirits, she always warned Shiro to tread carefully
if he encountered the supernatural. Shiro’s father Kenichi was another story.
He only believed in one spirit - sake. He would frequently come home drunk and insult
his wife, and he burst through the door just as Shiro asked his mother to tell him
the story of the slit-mouthed woman. “Are you filling that boy’s head
with those foolish stories again?” “They’re not foolish! They’re - “ As his father flung the book across the room, Shiro retreated to his bedroom. He knew what
it was like when his father was in a mood, and listened to the shouting between his parents
until he heard the telltale sound of a door slam. His father was no doubt out to get drunk at the
tavern again, and wouldn’t be back until late. He didn’t care what his father said - he knew the
spirits his mother warned him about were real, and he hoped his father wouldn’t encounter
any on his way to the watering hole. It was late and the moon was high in the sky
when Kenichi wandered back from the tavern. He knew it would be another argument as
soon as he got home, and he walked slowly, careful not to stumble. He’d had more than
his fill, and the forest path between the tavern and home looked more winding and
shadowy than normal. As he approached, he saw the faint outline of a woman
in the moonlight, blocking his path. “Hina? That you? Couldn’t even wait
till I got home to yell at me?” There was no response from the
woman as Kenichi walked forward, and through his Sake-blurred eyes he
could slowly see that this wasn’t his wife. It was a dark-haired woman, her face
covered with a mask, and she was holding what looked like an unusually long pair of
scissors. He couldn’t see her face clearly, but he bet she was beautiful under the mask,
and suddenly he was in no hurry to get home. “Am I beautiful?” The woman asked
softly as Kenichi walked closer. “Yes, you are.” He said with a
smirk. “Are you looking to - “ The woman slowly reached up, removing her mask, and Kenichi blanched in horror. Beneath
the cloth, her face was horribly mutilated, her moth split from ear to ear in
a twisted, unnaturally wide grin. “Am I beautiful?” Kenichi screamed in horror, turning
to run. But the slit-mouthed woman moved unnaturally fast. In a second, she
was on him, her scissors in her hand, stabbing him repeatedly. Kenichi’s
screams echoed through the forest, but no one was around to hear or see him
as the vengeful spirit dragged him away. Well, almost no one. Shiro had been watching from
the window, wondering when his father would come back. He saw him approach the end of the path,
his way blocked by a woman. He saw his father turn and run, the flash of large scissors in the
moonlight, and he knew his father would not be returning home. He tried to tell his mother what
had happened, but she brushed him off. Kenichi was notoriously unreliable, and she insisted
he would make his way home eventually. But as days went by with no sign of the man, their home
was soon filled with aunts and cousins offering their sympathies. Clearly Hina’s unreliable drunk
husband had run off and abandoned the family. Any time Shiro tried to bring up what he had seen,
he was told to be quiet and not upset his mother. But he knew. The slit-mouthed woman was out there, and she had taken his father away. And
Shiro was determined to solve the mystery. Years passed, and Shiro grew from a boy into
a young man. Although he was busy with school, he always made time to research the legend
of the creature that had taken his father. He never got any closer to finding out the
truth, but it was clear that he was far from the only person interested in the legend. It
was hard to distinguish real reports of the creature from all the people making up stories
about her. She had appeared in manga, anime, video games, and animated movies. There had
even been a series of horror movies about her, titled Carved: The Slit-Mouthed Woman.
But few people seemed to believe she was anything more than a scary story to be
told at summer camp or on internet forums. Shiro put out a post on the internet
asking for people who had encountered the spirit - and was shocked
when he got one response back. It was an old man, living about
an hour away. After school, he told his mother he was going to the
library to study, and instead took the bus to the old man’s town. He had been told to
meet him in the library, and when he arrived the librarian told him the man was waiting for
him in the quiet study room. The room was dark, and the old man was busy reading a book.
He didn’t even turn around to greet Shiro. “You’re the boy looking into spirits?” “Yes, sir. The slit-mouthed woman.” Shiro could swear he saw the man shiver as
he began to talk. “You encountered her?” “No. My father did, and I think she killed him.” “Not surprised. She does that to most people who
say the wrong thing to her. I was barely older than you when I encountered her, and she asked
me the same question she asks everyone - Am I beautiful? She’s a horror under that mask,
and if you let her know you think that, there’s no getting away alive. Me, I’d heard the
stories. I knew what to say, or so I thought. I stared her right in her face, that horrible
grin, and I told her I thought she was beautiful.” “And you survived.” Shiro breathed a sigh
of relief. There was a way to escape. “Yes.” The old man said with a pause. “But she wanted to know if I meant it. So
she left me with a memory of our encounter.” The old man put his book down and
slowly turned around. On his cheeks were two long-healed scars marking
his face, splitting his cheeks from ear to ear. The slit-mouthed woman had
marked the old man just like her face. Shiro quickly thanked the old man for his time
and beat a hasty retreat from the library. Who was this woman and what did she want? Would
she just kill or maim anyone she encountered, no matter what they said? He needed the
answers, and he kept on researching. He needed to know her origin, but he soon found out
there wasn’t just one origin - there were many. Everyone seemed to think the slit-mouthed woman
was the spirit of a woman who had been horribly maimed in life and was seeking her revenge, but
no one could agree on what had happened to her. The old man confirmed that she had
been haunting Japan for decades, but there were legends dating back
to the Edo period - the 17th century! Some versions of the legend said she was the wife
or concubine of a cruel samurai who mutilated her when she had an affair. Others said she was
the victim of a dentist or doctor who botched a procedure on her face, or that she had been cut
by a romantic rival who was jealous of her beauty. Others said she wasn’t the spirit of a mutilated
woman at all. They said she was a Yokai, or supernatural creature, and that the slits
weren’t a cut. They were her natural mouth, and it was full of hundreds of sharp teeth that
she used to consume anyone who crossed her path. Years went on, and Shiro never found
the answers he was looking for. There were too many stories about the creature,
all different, and no one was sure how to survive an experience with her unscathed.
Some said you had to give her a gift, others said that even if she let someone
pass she would return and kill them later. Soon Shiro met a girl, Sakura, and they
married and had children of their own. Life was busy, and Shiro rarely had time to dwell
on those horrible memories from his childhood. With one exception - the anniversary
of his father’s death each year. As the day approached, he found himself
becoming increasingly obsessed with the slit-mouth woman. He would pore over the
books of folklore, looking for clues. His mother had told him to let the past go, to not
let the spirits haunt him, but he was obsessed. His children would come and ask their father
to play with them, but he would shoo them away, saying he was busy. Sakura came to try to pull
him out of his study, and they quarreled. Soon, he decided to take a walk to clear his head. Maybe
he would get a drink, just to take the edge off… The night was crisp and clear as
Shiro walked home from the tavern, and he was glad he had only had one drink. He
knew Sakura meant well, and he couldn’t wait to get home to talk things out with her. In fact, was
that her waiting for him at the end of the path? It wasn’t. Shiro’s blood ran cold as he recognized
the figure blocking his path home. It was the same woman he had seen all those
years earlier, waiting for his father. The same white dress. The same black hair. The same mask
over the face. The same scissors in the hand. And now, her eyes were fixed firmly on him. One way or another, he was about to
get the answers he was looking for. “Am I beautiful?” Shiro knew no one survived saying no to the
slit-mouthed woman, and he answered yes. He braced himself as she reached up and took
off her mask, revealing the horribly mutilated face underneath. He kept a steady face, not
reacting. The wrong reaction could spell death. “Am I beautiful?” She repeated in
the same haunted, dispassionate tone. “You look...fine? Average.” Shiro responded,
hoping this would have an impact. Maybe she didn’t want people to lie, but she didn’t
want them to acknowledge her deformity at all? The slit-faced woman didn’t respond, just
looked at him quizzically. This obviously wasn’t a response she was prepared for, but she
didn’t move. She was waiting for something more. Shiro reached into his pocket...and
barely contained a laugh. His favorite hard candies. His daughter must have slipped
them into his pocket before he stormed out, in case he was hungry. He took them out and put
the small sweets on the ground as an offering. The slit-faced woman tilted her head towards the
candy, then quickly moved forward and gathered them. That gave Shiro the opportunity
he needed to quickly move around her, towards the end of the path and into the
clearing. He heard rustling behind him, but he didn’t look back until he was safely to
his front door. When he finally turned around, the slit-faced woman was nowhere to be seen, and
he had a feeling he had seen the last of her. As Shiro entered his home and embraced his wife
and children, he made a promise. He would remember what his mother taught him. He would pass down
the stories of the spirits to his children, and make sure they knew how to escape them. After
all, the slit-faced woman was still out there. For another terrifying creature
that may be lurking in the woods, check out “Siren Head - EXPLAINED”,
or why not watch this video instead?
